Their Hero Academia – Chapter 53: Aftermath Part 3
Eri was absolutely exhausted by the time she returned to U.A, with the sun setting. A long morning of using both her Quirk and her medical training on the civilians and Heroes brought to Mustafar General, then making her way deeper into Tokyo to check the Heroes, friends, and students there, had left her with a weariness she hadn't felt since cramming for her medical school exams. She'd spent the rest of the day there, pitching in where she could, even if she'd almost completely exhausted her Quirk.
She operated almost on autopilot as she entered the small on-campus apartment she shared with her husband, finding her way to the bedroom and collapsing on the bed in an instant, not even bothering to undress. Blissful darkness started to overtake her almost immediately. The stresses of the day slowly began to ebb away.
She didn't regret that she'd used up enough of her Quirk earlier, that she couldn't help Katsuki. Dad had taught her long ago that she could make herself crazy if she thought too much on those she couldn't help. When she'd announced that she'd wanted to be a Medical Hero and help people, he'd been firm in getting her to understand that she had limits and that she couldn't let doing that consume every moment of her life.
But some part of her still wondered if she couldn't be doing more. Every day out there, someone was getting injured, somewhere. She could heal that. And if she rested long enough…
No. Going down that route wasn't rational. Going down that route lay madness. She should just lay here and let the darkness take her.
"You know, you should probably change out of that costume. Not that I don't appreciate the way your ass looks in it…"
Eri's eyes snapped open and she turned her head to see her husband standing in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe. He smiled in that charming, boyish way he had, like every time he was seeing her for the very first time. She stretched out and threw a pillow at him, but he caught it. "You are the worst," she said, though she obviously didn't mean it.
The smile quickly gave way to a more somber tone. "I heard about Bakugo and the kids. And we've been watching the news. How bad did it really get out there?" He crossed the room and sat down on the bed next to her, rubbing her back in slow, lazy circles.
"Bad," she said, quietly. "We got lucky that as few people died as they did. As it is, a bunch of Heroes are going to be out of action for a while."
"And the kids?" Kota asked.
"I didn't see all of them… but I know Dad's going to recommend sessions with Hound Dog for anyone who saw any kind of action. Especially Shota and Katsumi. And Monoma, too, for that matter."
"Poor kids," he said, still rubbing her back. "Trauma like that doesn't fade easily."
"It doesn't," she agreed. She'd lost track of the number of times she'd woken up in the middle of the night, screaming. When she was little, Dad and Mom would come running into her room, holding her, telling her everything was going to be all right. Dad had sometimes had to activate his Quirk, but she was never frightened of him.
When attending U.A., it had been her friends, like Rinko and Hanako, rushing into her room and coming to her rescue. They'd comforted her and brought her tea and done everything they could to make her feel safe again, reminding her of her own strength. They weren't afraid of her Quirk, even though she was absolutely positive she took a month off of Rinko once.
Now, it was her husband. He had his own terrors and his own nightmares. And when they needed to, they held each other. He was strong and kind and gentle and she was never a monster in her eyes. He reminded her so much of Mirio and Deku, her first heroes. Now, he was her hero, each and every day.
She rolled over, so that she was looking up at him. "Tell me something good," she said. It was their ritual, whenever things got bad for either of them. They'd ask the other to tell them something good that had happened.
His hand moved to stroking her hair. "After we got the okay to stand down, I managed to get Himari's bed put together. Only took me three hours."
Hard to believe they'd be bringing that sweet little girl home in just a few days. They were going to get to be parents. They both had a lot of love to give, but Eri… she'd been so worried about passing on her Quirk. She believed she had done a lot of good with it, but it was a frighteningly dangerous one, especially in the hands of a child. And a frighteningly tempting one for those looking to use it for evil.
Eri knew how to protect herself. And she lived in one of the safest places in Japan. But she would not expose a child to that kind of risk.
So adoption it was.
She gave her husband a smile. Her first one in many, many hours. "Only three hours? Were you following the directions this time?"
He stuck his tongue out at her. "I'm not that bad."
"You're not," she agreed.
"I can follow directions."
"Then follow this one and just hold me."
Eventually, Kota had convinced her to get out of her costume and they'd fallen asleep in each other's arms. Unfortunately, it didn't last long. Someone pounding on their door woke them with a jolt.
"Ugh…" Kota groaned. "What the hell?"
Eri tried to cover her head with a pillow. "Think they'll just give up and go away?"
The pounding increased. "Doesn't sound like it," Kota told her.
She sighed. All she'd wanted was to sleep through to the next morning. The clock told her it was a little past midnight. Not quite the same thing. She'd been well taught, both by Dad and by her medical schooling, to catch sleep when she could, under some of the most stressful of circumstances. But that didn't mean she lamented its loss any less.
"We're coming!" she shouted in the general direction of the door as she tied on a bathrobe. If they were trying to wake her up in the middle of the night, it probably meant a medical emergency, a student or one of the staff. She was the staff doctor after all. She really ought to ask about putting in for an actual nurse. Maybe Katsuma wanted a part-time job?
She opened the door and found Midnight standing outside the door. "Aunt Nemuri?" she asked. She looked tired, wearing a fluffy bathrobe and fuzzy slippers, which wasn't surprising, given the time and the stress they'd all been under today. As much as the woman claimed to still be a party girl at heart, she also professed a great need for her beauty sleep. "What's going on? Is one of the students hurt…?"
Midnight shook her head. "It's Nezu," she said. "He was exchanging messages with me about plans going forward after the attacks today and…"
She held up her phone, it showed what looked like a normal exchange of messages, until it descended into gibberish on Nezu's end. It was less than five minutes ago. It was entirely possible he had dropped his phone or perhaps spilled tea on it, but then he would have let her know what was going on some other way.
Eri took a breath, then nodded. "Give me three minutes to get dressed and grab my medical bag."
She managed it in one and a half.
The living arrangements of the teaching staff at U.A. varied. Mister Yagi lived off-campus, with Izuku's mother. Dad had an on-campus residence in the teacher's dorms, as did Battle Fist, but both also lived off campus with their spouses when time allowed (Battle Fist was, in fact, currently off campus with her husband and daughter.). Super Ball, Hawkeye, Skyline, Hopper, FireFox, and Figure Sk8 lived in the teachers' dorms full time, as did many of the second and third year teachers. Rikido had an off-campus apartment and Power Loader had one off the main workshop. While Aunt Nemuri did have a place with Uncle Hizashi, she also spent the majority of the week in the smaller subset of apartments offered to teachers. She had one, Principal Nezu had one, Hound Dog had one as he… was not especially suited to long-term close cohabitation, Recovery Girl had the one next to theirs, and as a married couple, she and Kota had one.
Nezu's door was only two down from their own. Kota and Aunt Nemuri behind her, she pounded heavily on it. "Principal Nezu! Principal Nezu!"
There was no answer and Eri felt a growing sense of dread. Fortunately, as the school physician, with the potential need to access any building or room, she had a key which could unlock any door on campus. She quickly stuck it in the keyhole in Nezu's door and… it did not turn.
"Him and his paranoia," Aunt Nemuri growled. She looked at Kota. "Can you break it down? Fire hose it or something?"
"Only if you want it to go flying off its hinges," he replied. "I can get Hound Dog. He can probably kick it down."
Eri just held out her hand. "Give me your hairpins, Aunt Nemuri."
To her credit, Aunt Nemuri didn't protest or complain. She pulled the hairpins holding her hair up and handed them over, shaking her long, dark hair loose. Eri supposed there were some things she just couldn't turn off. Regardless of the demonstration, it didn't take long for Eri to defeat the lock. She hadn't had to use that particular set of skills in a long while, but they were on the long list of things Dad had insisted she learn how to do and keep in practice on. It actually wasn't a complicated lock. True, it rendered the lock inoperable and broke the hairpins, but that could be dealt with later.
Of course, knowing Nezu, she suspected that if anyone wanted undue access to his home, he'd already accounted for it and made plans accordingly. She wouldn't be surprised if he'd always intended for her to get in this way. Carefully, she opened the door and they slipped inside. "Principal Nezu?" she called out again. "It's me, Eri! I'm got Kota and Nemuri with me."
No answer. That wasn't good. Worry began to creep further into her brain, as Eri desperately tried to recall what she knew about Nezu's biology. She'd reviewed his medical records before—all staff were required to submit to an annual physical, even if not one administered by her—but she'd often suspected there was much those were leaving out. All she knew was that every year, the paperwork turned up. Whether he was fabricating them or had his own medical specialist, she did not know.
Nezu's apartment was much like him, tidy and neat. The carpets were plush, the furniture a dark wood. Tasteful art decorated the walls and somewhere, Eri could hear a grandfather clock ticking away. There were several bookshelves, each of them filled with books. Many looked old and leatherbound, and many looked to be in foreign languages.
"Nezu!" Aunt Nemuri shouted. "Nezu! Where are you, you damn rodent?!"
Again, no answer followed.
Kota walked through a doorway into what looked like a small office. "Eri…"
She quickly followed. It was a miniature replica of his office at the school, with a big desk covered in paperwork. There was even a cup of tea, still slightly steaming. His desktop computer was still on. It looked like he'd been working. There was an oversized, leather chair, its padding thick. It had been pushed back from the desk awkwardly, up against the wall.
Carefully, she moved around the desk. There, on the ground, limbs spread out awkwardly, was Nezu, clad in pinstriped pajamas, a long cap on the ground near his head, a cellphone near his outstretched hand. His beady black eyes were still open, staring at nothing. Eri placed a hand on his neck, checking for a pulse.
Nothing.
Carefully, she opened her bag and slid the small mirror there from it, placing it in front of his face. If he was still breathing, it would fog.
Nothing.
Finally, she pulled the portable heart rate monitor from the bag, pulled up his tiny pajama top, and attached the leads. Switching on the device, a steady, high pitched tone filled the room.
She switched it off.
One of Eri's hands went to her horn. It had grown a little since she'd slept. How much could she turn back? Maybe a ten minutes? How long did brain activity persist…?
No. She'd never used her power on someone who wasn't still living. She didn't want to think about what might happen if she tried.
"I'm sorry," she said. She turned to look at Kota and Aunt Nemuri.
"He's dead."
A part of Eri wished she'd hadn't sent Kimiko Ojiro home with her family. The girl's Quirk would have been infinitely more useful and accurate than the limited imaging technology the medical building had. But Eri made do. She didn't have the facilities to do an autopsy and her she was out of practice with pathology anyway, but she could at least get an idea of what had happened.
Dad, Kota, and Midnight filled the waiting room. The other teachers had been roused and were patrolling campus, just in case this had been part of an invasion or attack. After the way today had gone, she wouldn't have been surprised.
Still, she appreciated the presence of family. Nezu had meant quite a lot to her. He'd understood what it was like to be thought of an as nothing more than an object for experimentation. He'd known what it was like to be helpless and tortured, without anyone you could trust. He'd known what it was like to be offered hope, to thirst for kindness even if you didn't understand the word.
Dad inclined his head slightly. "Eri?" he prompted, kindly.
"I can't do an actual autopsy, of course," she began, "but with the examination I was able to do, my opinion is natural causes, a heart attack. Probably brought upon by extreme stress and exasperated by his age."
No one had ever actually been sure how old Nezu was, not even Nezu himself. And no one had been quite sure what his lifespan was. Most people hadn't even been sure what he was. But he had had been at U.A. in some form or another for more than thirty-five years and had been a friend of Mister Yagi's for even longer than that. Nezu had certainly begun to slow down more in recent years, his fur no longer quite so lustrous, dependent upon a cane to get around.
"He started working when the news broke about the Nomu attacks," Aunt Nemuri said. "And was still working at midnight. I'm not sure he stopped all day. Every time I checked in on him, he was thinking and planning. I think he wanted to be sure we could weather whatever was to come."
She clenched a fist. "Dammit. I should have known he was pushing himself too hard. I should have made him take a break." Her shoulders started to shake tears began to roll down her face, forcing her to remove her glasses to wipe her eyes.
Dad gave her a look. Not completely unkind, as he gently patted her shoulder, but still within the realm of looks he usually handed out. "Were any of us ever able to get him to change his mind? He thinks—thought—in ways and circles us mere humans couldn't possibly understand."
She could tell by the way his eyes were twitching that he too, was fighting back tears.
"I know I always felt dumber just being in the same room with him," Kota added.
Aunt Nemuri just shook her head. "Somehow, I always thought he'd be here forever. I don't know what we'll do without him."
"We'll need to think of something, at least in the short term," Dad said. "Until we can get a new principal, you'll have to be in charge, Nemui."
She gave him a look like he'd just sworn at her or, worse, brought up her age. When he didn't flinch, her gaze relaxed. "I suppose I should have expected that. Comes with the Vice-Principal job."
"Think you'll get put in charge permanently?" Kota asked.
"Over my dead body," Aunt Nemuri said. "I'm good with people. It's why I took the job when Nezu offered it to me. To help be a bridge between the teachers, administration, and students. I couldn't possibly think big enough to do what he did."
That and, Eri reflected, she'd confessed she'd been getting too old to continue to operate in her usual Hero attire.
"That can be settled another time," Dad said. "We'll all have enough on our plates. The students will be returning tonight. Many of them will need therapy sessions. The staff who are off campus will need to be briefed. And we'll need to make funeral arrangements for Nezu."
"Did he have any family we should contact?" Kota asked. "I know he was friends with All Might…"
"The school was his family," Aunt Nemuri said. "It was his life."
Eri looked at the time. No use going back to bed now. It was going to be a long day.
His grandchildren were all sleeping under his roof, while his son stayed overnight with their mother in the hospital, where she was well on her way to a full recovery. His wife was still sleeping when he rose and he'd been reluctant to leave her warm embrace, but he had always been an early riser and continued to be so even now.
Thoughts of his students still weighed heavily on his mind. So many of them had been caught up in the action of the previous day. He could only hope he could find the right words to comfort them and give them the strength to move forward. They were strong kids, good kids, most of them brought up by some of the finest Heroes he had ever known. But they were children all the same, even as Hero students. They did not deserve what they had been thrust into.
The ringing of his cell phone, his son's voice announcing "I am here!", broke the silence of the kitchen. The news on the other end of the call was not good.
"Yes, thank you for telling me, Aizawa. Please let me know if I can be of service."
Toshinori Yagi was familiar with the concept of loss. As a very young and very Quirkless boy, he had lost his family all too soon. As an all-too young man, he had lost the closest thing to a mother he had ever really had. As an adult, he had made peace with his own impending death. He lived with the knowledge of those he could not save, of the times he was too slow or too late. As an older man, he had stood by the boy who had become like a son to him, while he buried his father. And as an old man, he had said good bye to his own mentor.
Now, he could only stare dumbly at the phone in his hand, his mind still reeling from the news Aizawa had given him.
"Everything all right, Toshi?" asked a voice from the kitchen doorway. There, Inko stood, yawning.
Every time he saw her, Toshinori was aware of just how lucky a man he was. For almost all of his life, he'd thought the things of a normal man's life were forever beyond him. He had so many blessings these days. A wife, a son, three beautiful grandchildren. There were so many reasons he should not have had them, so many reasons why he should never have made it to be an old man.
To say that all these years later, he was still head over heels in love was not an exaggeration.
"No," he said, softly. "That was Aizawa. Nezu… Nezu passed away during the night. A heart attack, they said."
Tears began to well up in his wife's eyes. Like their son, she cried easily, felt others' pain easily. "Oh… oh no…" She crossed the kitchen and put her arms around him. Had it not been so serious, the disparity in their sizes would have made it almost comical looking. "I'm so sorry, Toshi."
He wrapped his arms around her. "I'd told him he needed to take it easier, but he always insisted he knew what he was doing! I should have tried harder, should have convinced him to take a break…"
Inko broke the hold, giving him a stern look. She jabbed a finger into his chest. "Now you listen to me, Toshi. None of this is your fault. Any choices Nezu made are on him, not you."
"But.." he began.
"No buts," she told him. "This is not your responsibility. You still carry enough on your shoulders as it is."
"You know, you're really quite forceful when you want to be. But no, you're right… It's just…"
Inko simply looked into his eyes, giving him time to gather his thoughts.
"There was a time when I did not have many friends. There was Naomasa, of course, but very few who I could let close to me. Nezu was one of those few. I think I've known him longer than anyone. It seemed like he'd always be with us."
His mind raced back to the first time he had met Nezu, newly escaped from his tormentors, scavenging for scraps in a city park. He hadn't believed his eyes at first, the strange creature seemingly beyond even the variations Quirks had wrought on the human form. But he'd offered him food and tried engaging him in conversation. Nezu had been distrustful and fearful, but had taken the food and spoken two simple words. "Thank you."
Later, when Nezu had walked into a police station and applied for asylum, Toshinori had been his one phone call. How he had managed to associate a random stranger with the Number One Hero, he wasn't sure, but he put little past his old friend's intelligence. He had put all his political capital behind the petition for Nezu to gain rights and citizenship. Combined with Nezu's own stunning legal arguments, it had been enough.
First working with the police and then with Heroes, Nezu's intelligence and commitment to justice had proven itself time and time again. He proved himself to be a true friend and one of the few people to have earned Toshinori's complete trust. When he'd entered the field of education, becoming first a teacher at and then the principal of U.A., Toshinori had been surprised, but he'd long learned by that point not to question Nezu's decisions. Nezu operated… had operated on a level few could understand or keep up with.
The world would be lesser for his loss.
She nodded, reaching up to stroke his cheek. He obligingly bent down so she wouldn't have to stretch. "He was a good man. He's going to be missed by a lot of people. Do they need you at the school?"
Toshinori shook his head. "No. Nemuri and Aizawa are taking charge for today."
"Good. Then you'll come with us when we go to see Ochaco today?"
He nodded. "I will. They're supposed to be sending her home today, right?"
"They are. Izuku said she'd have to take it easy for a while, but she's going to be fine."
She took his hands in hers and gave them a squeeze. "You know I'm here for you, Toshi, no matter what. You lost a friend today. I know that hurts. But you can lean on me all you want."
Toshinori allowed himself the smallest of smiles. The world was a little emptier, but there was still so much in it he was thankful for.
Enji Todoroki, the disgraced former Number One Hero known as Endeavor, walked into the hospital, doing his best to avoid coming into contact with anyone. He didn't really go out much these days. Not since the horrible things that he'd done to his family back in his younger days had come to life, forcing him into retirement to avoid bringing further shame to his family.
In the end, Enji had seen it as the right thing to do. He had been horrible to his family, treating them more like a minor nuisance than being a proper husband and father. He'd driven Toya to become the villain Dabi, ignored Fuyumi and Natsuo and written them off as useless, pushed Shota to hate him, and laid hands on his wife, Rei, and pushed her over the edge. He had tried to be better once he became the Number One Hero officially, to be someone that his family could be proud of and make up for the horrible things he had done, but the damage had been done. When his crimes came to life, he stepped down. He might have not wanted to, but he knew it was the right thing to do.
He didn't speak to his family much after that. Well, they didn't really want much to do with him. Fuyumi was the only one who really talked him, though her husband, the former Ingenium, made it very clear that he absolutely detested his father-in-law. Enji took it. He didn't blame his son-in-law for disliking him. Natsuo had told him very colorfully where he thought his father could go when Enji reached out to try and make amends with him. And as for Shoto….
After his mistakes with Toya, he should be thankful that Shoto didn't end up the same. Yes, his youngest son had made quite the name for himself. As the Number Three Hero, Enji couldn't help but feel overwhelming pride for his son. After everything he'd been through, after what Enji had put his son through, Shoto had succeeded and put his childhood behind him. Though he hadn't spoken to him since his granddaughter, Izumi, was a toddler.
To Enji's effort, he'd tried to repair his damaged relationship with Shoto. Shoto's wife, Momo had been helpful in that. Then Izumi was born, after an extremely rough pregnancy. Izumi was born into the world frail and premature. No one was sure if she would make it past the first few weeks of infancy. In a misguided attempt to comfort his son, Enji had said that Shoto and Momo could try again.
Looking back, he knew that he did not take the most tactful approach, and fully deserved the punch in the face that Shoto had given him when he'd said that. In truth, Enji had been worried for his granddaughter's life. He was often at the hospital, though he tried to take different shifts from Shoto. But Izumi pulled through, and her parents took her home.
Enji doted on his granddaughter, and she became the apple of his eye. He and Shoto started to repair things, slowly, for Izumi. He talked to Rei, and felt that he was making up for the horrible things that he did to her with each conversation that they had. His life was getting better. Slowly, he felt like he was earning forgiveness that he knew he truly didn't deserve. He spent as much time with Izumi as his good, his face lighting up every time she beamed at him with her little smile and rushed towards his calling out "Grandpa!"
Then Izumi had gotten sick when she turned four, and she nearly died. It was Enji's fault. There was no getting around that. The Villain who was responsible for getting her illness knew that he would do anything for his granddaughter. They offered him two things: the cure for his granddaughter if Endeavor came clean about his abuse and mistreatment of his family, or they would go public about the worse things he did with his Hero career. Though at the time, Enji had not seen himself ready to retire, he'd felt like he had no other choice. He came clean about his past, and retired. He'd tried to tell himself he'd been nearly ready for it anyway, having steadily declined in the rankings, feeling the age in his bones more and more.
The thing worse than retiring though, was losing his relationship with Izumi forever. His past misdeeds, beyond even what he had done to his family, had made his granddaughter a target, a bargaining chip of a desperate man. After he came out publically, it had brought old feelings to the surface, old memories. Shoto snapped, and Enji had the worst argument with his son he could possibly ever have. And even though Enji didn't want to lose his granddaughter, he was willing to respect his son, no matter how much it pained him.
Enji allowed himself to fade from public life after that. He cut all ties with almost everyone. Hawks occasionally stopped by to visit, but he always turned him away. He saw Fuyumi once in a while, and she had allowed him to see her daughter Kukio, but for the most part, he very rarely left his home. Natsuo did not allow him to see his children. And he hadn't ever seen Toya's daughter with that vile Toga woman.
It was better for everyone that he stayed away, stayed out of public life. It was better for his family. Enji was a shell of his former self, and truly a broken man. And he deserved every part of it.
He did try to keep up with Izumi where he could. When he heard that she had made it to UA, he watched the Sports Festival for the first time since Kukio had been a student. He couldn't have been prouder when, despite all of her previous limitations, she made it as far in the Sports Festival as she did. His granddaughter, the apple of his eye, was going to make a fine Hero someday.
He caught word of the Nomu attack when he turned on the news. He watched footage of Shoto, Momo, and Izumi fighting in different areas. And then Enji did something he never did. Making sure to cover himself up so no one would recognize him, he left the house, heading for the hospital that his family had been admitted to.
Shoto was fine, but being checked for Quirk Exhaustion. His daughter-in-law, Momo, had suffered some injuries, but would be fine. It was Izumi he was concerned about. Though she had not been injured, she had over extended herself, and was being treated for Quirk Exhaustion, as well.
Izumi was sleeping when Enji arrived at her room. That was good. He didn't want her awake to see him. If she saw him, she'd have questions, and he would have to tell her not to tell Shoto. He didn't want her keeping secrets from her father.
Enji hadn't seen Izumi since she'd gotten sick as a child. She looked so much like Rei. He smiled softly. She truly was becoming a strong young woman, overcoming every obstacle set in front of her. He couldn't be prouder. Enji gently reached down, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. He wished he could talk to her, but he knew he couldn't.
Enji set down a stuffed rabbit down on the table next to her. He didn't leave a card or anything. But he'd gotten her a very similar looking toy when she was younger, and it had been her favorite thing. Even though she was a teenager now, he hoped she still liked stuffed animals.
Izumi started to stir, and Enji knew it was his time to leave. He'd check on Shoto, and then leave. They wouldn't know that he had been there, but just knowing that his family was safe, would give him some small comfort.
It was more then he deserved.