The fox-eyed girl was watching me.
Concrete hot against my legs, tar incensing the fragrance of summer.
The hands in my lap were small, etched with childish cuts and pencil lead, dirty around the popsicle stick dripping a silvery-blue onto my leg.
The movements were furtive, cautionary.
She spotted no predators.
On silent feet the fox-girl padded across the street to me.
Her hand was warmer than the afternoon sun on my arm, firm and pleading.
"Chiyo, why did you stop coming over to play?"
Someone had split my head open with a sledgehammer.
My teeth felt like someone had tried to take a mold of their shape and left the clay inside, melting into my gums, seeping between my teeth, each swallow a disgusting struggle.
"Chiyo? Ms. Tsutomi?"
My eyes felt caked shut, but trying to lift my arms to cleanse them seemed too exhausting an effort. Where am I? What happened?
"She's probably never been through so much trauma in her life. It might take her a little longer to recover."
Recover?
Recover from what?
"It's a miracle All Might arrived when he did."
The blood in my veins felt like syrup. Think, what was the last thing you remember? There was the field trip, the invasion. The horrible face with the ripped, flaking skin, and that...thing, with the beak, sitting on-
"Shota," My voice finally broke through, recollection hitting like an ocean wave against a sandcastle. Hands immediately grabbed my shoulders, pressing me back down.
"Easy, easy! It's going to be all right. Ms. Tsutomi, please, I need you to lie back-"
"No." I didn't recognize the man holding me down, but the elder woman heading out the door was striking a memory bell. I turned my attention to her retreating back, breath hissing through my teeth. "Where is he?"
He could have saved her.
He could've saved all of them, but had used too much energy earlier that day, leisurely resting in the lounge when his students- his friends- were attacked.
Relief had washed over every young face upon his arrival. The beacon of hope, here at last to save the day.
They were battered and bruised but for the most part unharmed- save, the instructors.
Each was a pile of broken bones, Chiyo Tsutomi just seconds away from having her body crushed under the great weight of the newest abomination from villainy. If he had been ten seconds later-
A soft paw patted Toshinori Yagi's bony hand, comforting.
"They're both going to be okay, All Might. The doctors said Mr. Aizawa is out of the woods, and Ms. Tsutomi only suffered a few broken bones- Recovery Girl made quick work of them." Principal Nezu assured with a kind smile. Toshinori tried a nod, still feeling a tantamount level of guilt.
"I should've been there."
"You can't be everywhere at once," Nezu said gently.
"Are you...Nezu? I'm Dr. Nao," A man in a stark white coat had appeared before them, brow knit in uncertainty as if unsure who- or what- he was addressing.
Come to think of it, All Might didn't know if Nezu had another formal name outside principal. The being in question didn't seem fazed by the word stumble. He stood up in the chair.
"Yes, I am! Has there been any changes?"
The doctor glanced at the chart in his hand. "All three have stabilized. It appears Eraserhead took the mightiest blows, but will make a full recovery."
"Thank goodness!" Nezu praised. Toshinori dug into his hair, the ragged edges of his nails catching on the dry fibers, stomach in knots.
"They were hurt because I wasn't there to protect them. Chiyo shouldn't have even been there; she has a medical condition, on top of the fact she refuses to use her quirk-"
"Oh?" Dr. Nao looked surprised. "There were no medical conditions listed in her charts-"
It was Toshinori's turn to look surprised.
"Chiyo Tsutomi? As a child she suffered from trauma which permanently impacted her neurologically. I've seen the tremors myself."
Dr. Nao's entire forehead wrinkled again, looking like a cartoon bulldog. He flipped through the paperwork as if to catch an error. His head slowly shook in disagreement.
"We ran several diagnostic tests to check for brain injuries, concussions, the like. All came back clear. Outside of fatigue from Recovery Girl's treatment and a few bruises, Chiyo Tsutomi is in perfect health."
This doesn't make any sense.
She had looked so fragile, sitting on his counter, pouring her heart out into his hands. He had seen the tremors himself. Why would she lie?
Chiyo Tsutomi had become his closest friend in the last few months; she was the smiling face offering him protein bars and "whey good milkshakes!" in the morning and stuffing him full of food and facts in the afternoon, bubbling over with bizarre information about everything from quirk mutations to pangolins and nagging like an overbearing mother when he didn't finish his lunch.
She took his hand and smiled at him like there was no place she'd rather be.
No, he realized. She wouldn't lie about something like this.
"What the-"
The doctor's mutter brought Toshinori out of his shell. The pager attached to Dr. Nao's belt was flashing a bright, incessant white. He fumbled to slide the notifier out, looking more alarmed than a doctor in front of patients ever should. Toshinori and Nezu glanced at each other.
"Dr. Nao, is everything-"
"Ma'am, you need to calm down-"
"We need to get you back to bed- you have to rest-"
"Where is he? Where is Shota Aizawa?"
A fury of commotion abruptly congested the hallway, women and men in nurse's uniforms surrounding a staggering, frantic form struggling to push its way down the hall. Hair, wild and loose, clung to saliva trailing from an open mouth, breath quick and panicked. One arm was bound by a sling against a chest draped in a blue hospital gown, the fingers of the other clenched around an IV pole that seemed to be impersonating a walking stick.
Two great, wide eyes, glassy as marbles, fell on him. Toshinori jumped to his feet and rushed towards her, Nezu hot on his heels.
Chiyo Tsutomi swept past them without so much as a second glance.
A wave cut through Toshinori's chest.
She hadn't even registered him.
Dr. Nao joined the fray of medical staff, attempting to coax the petite woman back to her room with promises of updates and a planned visitation. Curiously, whenever a nurse went to touch Chiyo their hand bounced away suddenly, as if in a spasm.
A short figure emerged from a room down the hall, brows raising at the crowd heading her direction. Chiyo was on her in moments, stopping for the first time since she'd rampaged into the hallway.
With a moment's study, taking in Chiyo's bruised, weary-eyed face as she had earlier, the greyed head of Recovery Girl bobbed to the left, admitting the woman into the room. Dr. Nao had proved as deft as Toshinori, heading the group to a halt as the old woman took position back in front of the door.
"Ma'am, Ms. Tsutomi really shouldn't-"
"Let her be." Came her calm refute.
"With all due respect, Ms. Shuzenji, she-"
"She's been through enough, don't you think?"
It wasn't a question. Dr. Nao's lips tightened but he took a step back nonetheless, giving a slight bow to his elder. Recovery Girl gave a soft chortle and balanced her walking syringe in front of her, as if to assert her point. The nurses dispersed, looking rather relieved to be done with the whole ordeal. Toshinori remained rooted to the spot. The weight of Principal Nezu climbing onto his shoulder was the only feeling that grounded this moment in reality.
She didn't even see me.
"I left the curtain drawn, to monitor any changes or needs," Recovery Girl commented as she strolled away. "If you notice anything, please alert a nurse."
Toshinori stood only inches from the door; he could be within view of the window in a single step.
Her glances out the door, hidden by her turned laughter, the third lunch she never took out of her bag.
The way her eyes had lit last night, body molded to the curvatures of his, aligned perfectly.
Deep down, Toshinori had already known.
"All Might?" Nezu's voice was gentle, as if aware of his swirling thoughts. A dandelion head startled. With one slow breath he took the final step. The hinges and knob were still fully visible on either side as the two peered through the single pane of glass.
A body, chest forming a shallow incline with each breath, was lightly wrapped in a bed sheet, the limbs poking out encased in casts and bandages, face masked by layers of gauze and tape and coban wrap.
Chiyo Tsutomi was bent in a chair, head against Shota Aizawa's right hand, spine shaking as she cried.
Her cheeks had been hollowed by the moon, the bones of her face sharpening the corners to form wide, smooth planes beneath each eye. I pulled my arm away, confused.
"I don't know you,"
The fox's face slid in front of mine, pained. Could foxes cry?
"I'm sorry you got in trouble; I didn't know you weren't allowed to do it,"
There was a dark cloud moving across the sky; with it, the humanness of the fox began to fade. Her fingers turned to leathery pads, encased in incendiary fur.
"Please, remember me,"
"I don't know who you are!"
Her ears were elongating, the tip of her nose darkening to a point far from her eyes.
"You do know me," Claws pulled at my skin, urgent. "We're the daring duo, Chiya-"
I gasped, spasming away from the touch. Recovery Girl pulled her hand away, looking unbothered. The wrinkled, papery skin of her face pulled with a smile.
"You were muttering in your sleep, dear."
I rubbed my chin with the heel of my hand, knowing a snail trail had probably manifested in my slumber. My back groaned in protest as I sat up and glanced around. The sun was a melting disc on the horizon. How long had I been here?
"Is- Has there been any changes?" My voice scratched out. In an instant a cup was before me, held in the wise hands of UA's medic. My own trembled around the glass; I was hungry, too.
"He's unconscious still, but Eraser Head will make a full recovery." She patted my hand. "He's going to be okay, Chiyo."
I busied myself with the glass, hiding my relief in a long swallow of water. Recovery Girl gave a knowing hmph. As if anyone could pull anything over her.
The memories had played like a reel of home movies, each moment displayed in an out-of-body experience. In a surge the fear and fury stormed through my blood, pulling me from the sheets and into the hall.
"What happened?"
"All Might arrived, just in the nick of time by the looks of it. The assailants- the League of Villains, as they referred to themselves- were able to escape via the warpgate user. The creature which took down Mr. Aizawa and yourself was defeated by All Might and taken into custody,"
My face relayed the panic coiling in my organs. Recovery Girl lifted her hands to pacify the fear. "Every precaution was taken. The police have dealt with extremely volatile villains before; it cannot escape."
I watched the barely breathing body hidden in bandages.
"If it's okay, I'd like to stay in here."
She was already nodding before I finished the sentence, shuffling towards the door. As soon as she turned the knob two men hurried in, carrying a cushioned chair covered in an upholstery right out of the seventies. A nurse followed in after with a covered tray.
"I figured you would say something like that."
My legs were shaky upon standing, moving out of the way to allow the men to replace my chair. With subtlety, they moved it a few inches closer to the bed. I gave them a grateful smile and one winked in return.
My lungs still felt swollen as I lowered myself into the new, far comfier chair. The elder lady rolled the tray over to me with a flick of her cane.
"Make sure to eat all of that," Recovery Girl said pointedly. I nodded; she was already allowing me more freedom than any other nurse or doctor would have. The least I could do was meet her requests.
"All Might said he found you under the Nomu, unconscious. Do you know why he was targeting you?"
"I had stopped him by limiting his blood flow." I struggled to pull the lid off a pudding cup. "I...I used to not use my quirk, so I wasn't ready for how powerful that thing was. It was able to crawl over to me anyway."
Recovery Girl looked pensive. I waited, imploring her to share.
"It took quite a bit for All Might to defeat it."
"I only held it for ten seconds, tops, and then passed out. Nothing I did was impressive."
"I disagree."
The right side of my face felt like one giant bruise. I abused it with a grimace anyway. The medic laughed.
"I'll let it go. But, just so you know, those ten seconds made a world of difference. Tsuyu Asui is completely unharmed, because of you. Izuku Midoriya would be, too, if he would stop obliterating his own damn limbs. He'll be fine, of course," She waved off my alarmed expression.
"Thirteen is going to be okay, too?"
"Everyone is going to be perfectly okay, Chiyo. Don't worry yourself sick."
I stirred the steaming mug of broth.
"I just stood there," I said quietly. "I was frozen in place and couldn't help anyone. He told me to protect the students. Shota- Mr. Aizawa is in that bed and nearly died, trying to protect me, because I was too weak to do so myself."
"Do you think he regrets it?"
I was taken off guard by her question and the way she spoke it so simply. The elder woman's face pleated, looking almost smug, as she hopped off the swiveling stool, taking my tray in one hand and cane in the other.
"If you need anything, press the button to the left of the bed," She called before slipping out the door.
The room was filled only with the monitoring of Shota Aizawa's heart and our breathing, light dim as the sun finally sank into the earth.
As careful as the healing hero herself I tugged free the bandages from Shota's hand, matching our fingers together, bleeding into him.
The monitor slowed, just by a fraction, and his breath drew in deeply.
As he exhaled, I could've sworn he breathed my name.
He wasn't suited for drawn-out combat- anyone who had heard of him knew that, but the scum brought to the USJ wasn't anything he couldn't handle with a little stamina.
A bunch of gutter punks looking for a fight they never had a chance of winning- he would make certain of it.
But the stolidness of his persona was off kilter from the get-go.
Why, of all days, did there have to be an attack when she was here?
His blows hit a fraction more violently than usual, adrenaline seeping into his bones.
He'd promised her it would be safe, that danger was non-existent for both the students and herself.
And then promptly turned around and told her to keep the students safe as a hundred villains walked in not even fifty yards away.
It was his duty to protect them, not hers.
It was his responsibility to focus on keeping them all safe.
And then her body fell from a misting cloud, landing at the feet of the deadliest man there.
All he could see was her, immobilized by fear.
Pain stitched across the bones of his cheeks, burning like salt in an open wound.
Chiyo's face appeared before his- but not the one he wanted.
"You took some mighty hits, Mr. Aizawa," Chiyo Shuzenji whispered, not unkindly. He struggled to discern her silhouette in the dim lighting; one eye was swollen nearly completely shut and had the dull pain of an old bruise. Aizawa tried to speak, only to have a straw inserted between his lips.
"She's been here for hours; it'd be a crime to waste your first words on me," Recovery Girl admonished, wiping the dribble from his mouth when he finished. Aizawa tried to furrow his brow- apparently, even his eyebrows were sore. The old medic gave a sort-of chuckle, moving out of his line of vision.
A head of messy, greasy hair tumbled over the arm of a chair around a yellow-green face. Slobber pooled on the upholstery near her open mouth and she breathed in light, wheezing snores. Two curved legs rested on the sheet near his, one abnormally pale hand inches from his own.
Chiyo Tsutomi looked terrible, truly.
And yet every ounce of oxygen left Shota Aizawa at the sight of her.
"I had to remove her hold on you for a moment," Recovery Girl explained. She'd scuffled to the woman in question's side, picking up the wrist lying on the bed and observing her watch. "I figured you'd regain consciousness about now, but her quirk could knock the most extreme ADHD sufferer comatose," She smiled in his direction. "You never stood a chance."
"What-"
"I told you, save it for her," Shuzenji smoothed the hair from the younger woman's temple. In a few deft movements she'd separated three large clumps, gnarled hands braiding it down the side of Chiyo's bruised face.
"After you went down All Might's apprentice used One for All against the Nomu, which proved ineffective. Before the creature could break his body like a twig, Chiyo stopped him."
His expression relayed confusion well enough since the woman nodded. "She immobilized them through her quirk. She thinks the power of the Nomu was too great and that's why she failed."
Recovery Girl fetched a ribbon out of her pocket- probably meant for younger patients- and tied the end of Chiyo's braid with a thoughtful expression.
"A number of accounts from the students are forming a larger picture," Her eyes fixed on his behind a violet visor. "Apparently, many students facing assailants noted a sudden freezing in their movement, if only briefly. It allowed three individuals to take cover before being attacked."
She had wielded her quirk with that great a caliber?
He hazily watched her breathe. The greyed medic had wiped at her mouth, but already a silvery pool was forming again. Even just momentarily, that's an outstanding feat.
"She's a good girl. Maybe a little confused, and absurdly infatuated with you, but good. Strong," Recovery Girl chuckled. Aizawa discounted the heat in his face as related to his injuries.
"If you need anything, press the button to your right."
The wise old medic had replaced Chiyo's small hand on the bed, inches from his.
Carefully, quietly, Shota Aizawa took it in his once more.
The hallway was ghostly at night, not a soul around save the pleasant-looking nurse sitting behind the burgundy-countered desk, reading what appeared to be a cheesy romance novel.
I had staggered down this hallway hours earlier via blind ambition. In that action I hadn't thought of what I was wearing, or how cold the glass-tiled floor would be under my bare feet later.
Someone had taken the liberty of placing new clothes on my re-made bed. The ones I had arrived in, bloody and torn, had probably been disposed of. Whatever attempt they'd made to clean me off was valiant, but the smell coming from my hair would be enough to vanquish a villain all on its own. I picked up the clothes and moved towards the attached bathroom, rubbing the back of my right hand. Recovery Girl must've removed the IV in my sleep.
I glanced in the bathroom mirror after turning on the shower, steeling myself for the damage. My face wasn't as frightening as expected- yellowed in the hollow of one cheek and ombreing into a honeyed brown near my mouth, but still in one piece. I tentatively touched the place Tomura Shigaraki's fingernail had grazed.
Something had murked across his eyes when he looked at me, as if I was a species he couldn't quite place.
The feeling had been mutual.
As a kid, somewhere near the Manami incident, I had grown an affinity for using my quirk, always in absolute secret to avoid danger- Mom or otherwise. Simple, stupid things, like making tsunamis in the bathtub or drying out my tongue to make it stick to my lip. I once tried to clean the dishes with just my quirk, resulting in three broken bowls and the shiniest pots and pans anyone's ever seen. Somewhere along that line the first nightmare occurred, ripping me from bed and wailing to Mom's, a lilted voice still spider-walking across my brain.
I never saw the full face, the sounds always distorted, but it was him, all the same. How?
The water was burning ecstasy on my tired limbs. I nearly moaned at the feeling, washing away remnants of filth from a morning that already felt centuries ago. Every finger, toe, and joint worked just as well as before, reacting to the neurons fired down their routes. There was still a gauze bandage just above the inside of my knee, matching the one taped around my right forearm. The skin beneath each carved inward- I could feel the clotted blood.
What would he look like, after all the bandages come off?
Whoever brought the clothes hadn't considered undergarments, and I crossed my arms self-consciously across my vulnerable-feeling chest. The shirt and pants were loose enough to hide my figure from unobservant eyes, and the slippers which had magically appeared were a great deal warmer than the icicle tile.
All Might was their clear and obvious goal. If all had gone according to plan, he would've been there from the get-go. If that had been the case, how would this have unfolded?
"Chiyo!"
Toshinori was paler than normal, body built of twigs and string. I startled, glancing at the clock by the nurse's station.
"Toshi? It's late- what are you doing here?"
"I've told him repeatedly visiting hours will resume later at 9 AM," The nurse attendant curtly interjected. Toshinori winced as if she'd thrown something at him. I noted the styrofoam coffee cups littered around a chair in the lobby, filled with crumpled foil bags of junk food. I slowly turned.
"Toshi...Have you been here the whole time?" A fleeting image of buttery hair flashed in the periphery of my mind's eye. Oh. "You were...in the lobby, earlier. When I-"
"Yeah," He saved me the trouble of finishing that sentence, rubbing his neck. "I came as soon as I could. I'm so sorry, Chiyo."
What did he have to be sorry for? I brushed past him to pick up his litter. At least he ate something, I guess.
"Don't be. Everyone is going to make a full recovery. Just be thankful your friend arrived in time."
Toshinori stumbled over, quickly picking up the remainder of his dinner/midnight snacks. We worked in quiet unison for a few moments, like two actors rehearsed in different plays.
I had walked right past him in my fearful rage to find Shota. I hadn't even noticed him. Sure, the last time I'd seen the two of them one was safely elsewhere and the other a broken, tattered mess, but I still felt like there was a pretty clear message- signed, sealed, and delivered. I balanced on the palms of my feet, feeling like a contemporary Hester Pryne.
"Toshi, I'm sorry, I didn't even- When I woke up, I didn't-"
"I didn't leave because Kayama spiked my drink, Chiyo."
Toshinori was standing by the garbage bin when he chuckled. "I mean, she did pour something into my cup, but I could've handled it. That's not why I left."
"What do you mean?" My voice asked, cautious. Toshinori was smiling in an unreadable way, reaching out to help me stand. Pain arced up my right thigh, radioing out from underneath the bandage. His hands felt calloused around my fingers.
I had been out on the town with Toshinori Yagi just last night, charading dramatic scenarios of him breaking up with me, laughing at his jittery reaction.
Neither one of us seemed festive now.
"Toshinori, it isn't like that. He was hurt trying to protect me- when I woke up, that's all I could remember-"
"You've never looked at me the way you looked at him last night, Chiyo," Toshinori refuted, voice gentle as a caress.
I realized that the unreadable smile had been painted with a morose inflection; something I'd never witnessed from my sunny companion. His grip tightened- my silence was answer enough.
"Please, don't worry. Your friendship has meant so much to me these past weeks that I would have never made a move anyway, out of fear of ruining what we already have."
"That's terrible logic to live by," I cut blatantly. His laugh echoed the empty halls.
"It's hard for me to get close to people, so when I do, I try to do everything in my power to keep the relationships as pristine as possible." Came his foolhardy answer. I shook my head, incredulous.
"I'm not dating Shota Aizawa-"
"Not yet," He corrected. Heat slid into my veins and I looked away, awkward. He laughed again, this time earning a swift glare from the nurse's station. Skinny shoulders jumped up, hands held in surrender. A weight, cold and smooth, still rested in my chest.
"You asked me before, about All Might fading, and what that would mean for the world,"
His attention caught swiftly. I thought about the teeth of the Nomu, its bone-crushing hands circling my leg and reverting it to dust. I stared up at Toshinori, face hardened.
"The world needs him right now, maybe more than ever. If he hadn't arrived when he did, I wouldn't be here. Neither would Aizawa, or Asui and Midoriya. He has to hold out until we become stronger." Was I including myself in that?
"I know," Toshinori seemed to stand a little taller, hands clenched at his sides. "He will."
Fatigue was eating away at my senses. I hid a yawn with a duck of my head, leaning against the closest chair to balance my weight.
My human sunflower softened, ushering with his hands, "You should go back to bed! Your body needs rest."
Another yawn prodded my senses before I agreed, moving closer and resting my head against his chest. I could feel the birdcage of his ribs just beneath the skin.
"You have better gained at least ten pounds before the next time I'm at school-"
"Always with the nagging, huh?" He laughed all the same, two arms encasing me in a gentle embrace.
Always with the fragility, huh? I thought wryly. I'm in the hospital though, so this one's a freebie.
He waited until I made it to Shota's room, waving all the while, before turning to leave. The nurse gave a relieved sigh.
I'd lost my drinking date as easily as I'd gained him, but was still walking away with a lunch partner and close friend. My biggest regret was not dragging him to karaoke when I had the chance. I climbed into the cushioned club chair, grunting at the effort.
My arm was beginning to ache as the wound near my knee had earlier. I picked at gauze before realizing that, if there was even the slightest amount of pus or ooze, I'd either vomit or pass out. I decidedly left my arm alone.
The evolutionary, logical part of my brain- the part that had just dissuaded me from picking at my own wounds- clearly checked out as I inched onto the bed to get a better look at its occupant's. Whoever removed my IV must've taken the bandages from Shota's face, leaving it bare minus a taped-in-place bandage, bent like a crescent moon around his right eye. His hair was matted and pulled haphazardly away from his face, greasy from the diagnostic tests they'd probably run on him earlier. I marveled at how he was able to sleep, lips perfectly sealed, not a drop of slobber in sight.
Shota Aizawa looked terrible, really.
And yet every ounce of oxygen blew out of my body just looking at him, knowing he was safe.
"Chiyo, I swear to God, if you don't stop staring at me, I'm going to shave your idiot head."
His breath was putrid, grouchy and filled with exhaustion, but I'd never heard more beautiful words.
"Oh, dear. Did nobody tell you? I beat you to the punchline by shaving yours instead. Took all that pencilly facial scruff, too."
"Damn, now I'll never get a date for prom."
The charcoal of his irises slowly appeared, widening in alarm when they caught sight of me. Giant, ridiculous tears flooded down my face on their own accord, no matter how I held my breath or used my quirk to stop them.
Shota's head shook, exasperated, but a smile was quietly turning his face crooked. I dug my fingers into both eye sockets and a great, hideous sob erased all the suavity I had left.
"I'm just glad- you're okay- I was- so worried," Hiccups disrupted every breath like I was skinned-knee seven-year-old again. Hadn't I'd gotten through all the tears hours ago? This new swell felt like it would be able to fill an Olympic swimming pool.
In the midst of this, Shota Aizawa chuckled. Even my hiccups paused to admire the sound. With obvious effort he raised the bed, gently taking my arm to pull me towards him.
"Shota, you shouldn't-"
"Oh, be quiet," His muttered breath was hot in my hair as he readjusted, fitting me against his side, head in the soft valley between his shoulder and chest. I tried to sit up; somehow, he had enough strength to hold me down, rubbing a gentle beat against my heaving back.
"Just let it all out."
So I did.
Soaking bandages, the sheets, his shirt. Fingers caressed my spine all the while, unbothered.
"I thought you were-"
"Mhm."
"I was so scared-"
"I know. I'm sorry."
I sat up, needing to see him. His face, usually a passive slate of boredom, was steeled with emotion. "I promised it'd be safe. I had no way of knowing this would happen, but I should've taken precautions-"
"I don't mean I was scared of them." I had been, obviously. But nothing I'd faced compared to waking up in a hospital bed with the person I'd been with nowhere in sight- just the memory of a body broken like a shipwrecked mast in mind. I could barely put into words the feeling I'd felt. I tried anyway.
"I watched him melt your arm like sugar in water. Then I woke up to that- thing, Nomu, on top of you. I thought-" I took a shaking breath, unable to finish. The waterworks had just begun to slow- if they went into production again, we'd need a new bed altogether. Instead I focused on the kernel of anger I'd left on the back burner, finally letting it cook.
"You promised not to save me," I said quietly.
"In the end you saved me though, right?" He leaned back on his pillows. "So I guess we're even."
"No, we're not. You nearly died."
"I would do it again, Chiyo. And again. And again," His chest rose and fell close enough to feel, eyes never leaving mine. His voice was soft. "Nothing you say will change that."
"I should've been stronger. If I had fought back, you wouldn't have been hit, and then I wouldn't have been knocked out, and-"
His hand was in my hair, fingers sliding up the nape of my neck, cradling my head. My oxygen intake suddenly went from 100 psi to none at all, caught in the way he was looking at me.
"The what ifs don't matter. I didn't die, and you're safe. Let me enjoy it."
My ribs were bending, making way for the helium-filled balloons rising from my stomach and floating through my lungs, taking residence in my head. Shota gently tugged at my hair, pulling me back to his chest.
"These sheets are scratchy."
"Hm."
"Your shirt is probably covered in slobber and snot."
"I've dealt with worse."
I thought about this for a moment, his hand shifting through my hair.
"I was with Toshinori, when you texted him about going out last night."
What?
He scoffed at the dumbfounded face looking up at him, leaving a boyish smile in its place.
"Kayama had mentioned taking you to a bar before. There was no guarantee you would choose the same one, but I took my chances."
If he slipped off his heart monitor, stuck it on my finger, nurses from the next district over would be rushing to get to this room. That smile cracked a little larger across his face at my dubious expression.
"You…"
"It was a date, right? I'd been wondering if you dressed as ridiculously for them as you do for school."
If he was expecting a smart return, I wasn't able to provide one.
He wanted to see me.
I shook my head, mouth opening and closing like a sheep with cud before words even semi-intelligent came to mind.
"Why were you thinking about me on a date?"
The legs pressed against mine shifted, uncomfortable. I looked up again, feeling unduly self-satisfied. A twitch moved his unswollen, suddenly closed eye. So that's how he was going to play it. I fell back into the crook of his arm, enjoying both the warmth of his body and that of my smugness.
"I guess you'll just have to take me on a date to get the full effect."
The monitor to the side of the bed increased a few pulses per minute, quirking my mouth.
Because he'd suffered a long, exhausting day, I relinquished the banter, submersing us in a liquid state of lethargy. His breathing deepened, words sluggishly tumbling over one another.
"No...karaoke."
Author's Note Hello! Hello hello! Thank you so much for every favorite, follow, and review! The reviews are always my favorite, and spur me back to the computer with a new burst of inspiration. I love your reviews (because I'm weak, and human, and always craving approval, probably).
What are these bizarre dreams of a fox? Will Chiyo and Aizawa actually go on a date? How will Hannei Tsutomi react to all this? So many questions.
There's a fun little slip-up on Aizawa's part in Chapter Eighteen that Chiyo didn't pick up on- did you? In the heat of his anger (and I'd argue jealousy), he accidentally reveals a little more than he meant to. I never know where to put these little blurbs, so I thought I'd add that fun tidbit here.
