? Point of View- Monday Night
It's another typical Monday. I woke up at the butt crack of dawn, dragged myself out of bed and took a piss while chanting, "four more days after today, just four more days until the weekend." The night before, I forwent preparing my lunch in favor of an early bedtime. I make that choice almost every night, and every morning I regret it. This morning was no exception.
Though I sincerely wish our clinic opened just a little later because I absolutely despise mornings, I love my job, I love the people I work with, and most of all, I love all the wagging tails, and whiskered snoots that greet me each morning. Life as a veterinary technician is exactly what I wanted. I get to work with animals every day but without the overwhelming responsibilities of the veterinarian himself. After I put in a full day at the clinic, I spend the rest of my evening helping at a local animal rescue center.
Today was a difficult day for the rescue world. We were tipped off to a small apartment that reportedly reeked terribly, and one neighbor even reported seeing a dead cat lying on the floor in front of the door. When we went to investigate, it turned out to be the home of a hoarder, with piles upon piles of junk lining every surface, stretching floor to ceiling in height. The place smells heavily of cat urine and trash and it was so cluttered with refuse, we could barely make our way through it. Even my colleague with years of experience and who has seen pretty much everything, was taken aback by the sheer filth plaguing the apartment.
"Jesus, Ang. How does someone even live like this?" He asked as he inspected the worn cushion of a torn up armchair.
"I don't know. Mental disability a guess? It's so sad that these poor animals had to suffer because of it." Our exchange was muffled by the bandanas we wore around our faces. They were supposed to filter out some of the stench, but the piece of cotton was no match for this stink.
It was incredibly difficult to rummage through all the roach infested crap, searching tirelessly for as many live animals as we could find. In the end, we found the decaying bodies of ten cats and were able to actually rescue a little over a dozen. Every cat rescued is a victory, one less animal to be subjected to abuse, but still my heart aches for all the animals we can't save. They are the ones that keep me up at night.
By the time I got out of there and made it back home, I felt both emotionally and physically drained, wanting nothing more than to eat my dinner and watch TV.
The wooden door swings open to my empty apartment, its rusty hinges squeaking obnoxiously in protest. For perhaps the twentieth time this month, I make a mental note to remember to grease those hinges, so I don't have to hear that god awful noise again. The apartment is mostly obscured in darkness, only a little light manages to seep in from the single window resting above the two-person breakfast table. After flicking the lights on, I strip out of my scrubs as I walk the few short steps needed to get to the kitchen. My stomach rumbles while I sift through my cabinets, eventually settling on a cup of instant ramen.
While it cooks in the microwave I go over to my bedroom, toss my dirty scrubs in the hamper and shrug on a pair of sweatpants. The feeling of unclasping my bra and whipping the thing off is heavenly. I sigh happily as I pull my maroon tank over my head, finally in a state worthy of relaxation. I know I should shower, especially after sifting through that gross house, but I'm just too tired. Instead, I grab my ramen, cozy up on the couch and flick the television on. It's already just after 9pm which means my favorite late-night talk show should be in full swing by now.
I cheer loudly the moment I see the familiar fiery red hair and cute dimples of the talk show host. It looks like he's invited a guest, a teenage boy with dark green curls and a smattering of freckles. There's something familiar about him, though I can't quite place my finger on it.
"Thank you so much, Denji for showing me that squirrel who can surf. He's much better at it than I'd ever be!" While the audience cackles in the background, the camera pans in for a closeup, the host turning his head to address the camera while leaning forward with his hands on his desk. "Folks, I hate to do this to you, but I've got to get serious for a minute. Our next guest is a young student from UA who's got a little bit of a problem and he's hoping we can help him out." God this is driving me crazy. He looks so familiar. Who is this kid?
"We have with us, new up and coming hero, Midoriya, Izuku."
Suddenly, my stomach drops, the chopsticks I was holding slip from my hand and I'm sputtering hot broth all over the place. This is bad. This is very bad. No wonder he looks so familiar, he looks just like him.
"You might recognize him from the last two sports festivals at UA- he's hoping we can help him find somebody." Izuku looks around uncomfortably, obviously shy and unaccustomed to being placed on a pedestal, offering a small wave to the audience. My lower lip trembles as I cover my mouth with both hands. I thought I'd moved past this, the one big mistake of my youth.
"Years ago, when he was a toddler a young woman used her quirk to make him sick. Over the past 14 years it has gotten worse and is now fatal." He turns to Izuku then. "Is that correct, son?"
"Y-yes sir."
Wait what? A quirk that makes him sick… My quirk shouldn't have- Oh my god, he said fatal! Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god- is this my fault?
"A quirk that makes someone sick is very rare and there won't be a lot of people with a quirk like that. We're looking for someone in her mid-thirties, with dark purple hair and fair skin. We believe the name she used at the time was an alias and won't be of much help."
"That's me" I whisper in utter shock. They're all going to be looking for me. But wait, that's not what my quirk does. No one will know it was me if I don't come forward.
"You guys have done amazing things in the past, helping other people in sticky situations. Now I need us to come together again as a community and help Izuku find this woman. If you know anybody who fits this description, please don't hesitate to call our hotline. We're not trying to get anybody in trouble here, we're just trying to get Izuku healthy so he can go back to hero training with his classmates."
This just doesn't make sense. My quirk shouldn't have made him sick but how can I tell them that without turning myself in? Then again, maybe there's some kind of side effect to it that made him like that. I always assumed if I don't reverse my quirk the effects would wear off in a couple years tops, but I've never not reversed it except that one time.
I should turn myself in. Maybe I can still fix this, fix him…
No, no, I can't do that. I'll be prosecuted for sure.
It would be the right thing to do though, and if they said it's fatal if I do nothing he'll die, and it'll be my fault.
But I don't want to go to jail.
What should I do?
XXX
Izuku's Point of View- Monday
Two weeks after my interview and we still haven't heard anything. I haven't lost hope though, I believe someone will find her and then all of this will be nothing more than a bad dream. In the meantime, I've returned to school under strict restrictions. I can attend all of my classes as usual, but my training time has been cut in half, and I'm not supposed to participate in any of the more rigorous field experience sessions. Principal Nezu was kind enough to offer me alternative work in its place- I watch everyone else while they get to have all the fun and then I write a detailed report on what I saw. It's basically hero analysis, which is right up my ally, but it pales in comparison to the adrenaline rush of thinking on my feet and finding new ways to utilize my quirk in different situations.
As for sparing, Todoroki, Kacchan, and Iida are the only three who still give it their all. Everyone else goes easy on me, apparently too afraid of breaking me like I'm some porcelain doll. It's not like I can't take a hit, I do have OFA after all. Eventually, my kidney failure will likely lead to loss in bone density and when that happens I won't be able to train at all so I don't think it's so wrong for me to want my classmates to give me a challenge while I'm still able to fight back. I do wonder about stuff like that though. Like, if we find her and she removes her quirk, will I still retain the damage that occurred afterwards? Will my kidneys heal, or would I be put on a donor list? If I develop heart disease, which is likely, will that go away or will it linger, tainting my body and leaving me with a permanent, lifelong condition? Then again, maybe when she takes her quirk back someone else with a healing quirk will actually be effective and at least somewhat fix the damage her quirk caused.
Kacchan seems to think the damage will stay even after she removes her quirk. We argue about it most nights. He's adamant that there's no reason I can't take one of his kidneys if my body is no longer attacking itself and I'm adamant in my refusal. Our fights have gotten so heated already that I've gone back to my own room to sleep, too frustrated to be in the same room as him. The few times that did happen, Kacchan would show up in the middle of the night, let himself into my room and crawl in bed with me after I've gone to sleep. He knows I won't push him out when I'm half asleep.
The stress of waiting and everything else weighed me down a lot, but there have been some nice moments to help balance it. Since I was still in the hospital during the Hero Con, Kirishima and Kaminari took our tickets and went in our place. They wore video cameras so Kacchan and I could watch everything happening from my hospital room. For the most part, they did everything I wanted to do myself. They hit up all the major panels- my favorites aside from All Might were Fat Gum, The Wild, Wild Pussycats, and Gunhead and they sat through the brand new remastered Hero documentary featuring six minutes of never before seen footage of heroes in everyday life. It was SO awesome!
Eventually the duo went a little off kilter- Kirishima spent a loooong time ogling the Red Riot exhibit and Kaminari spent an unhealthy amount of time watching Mount Lady lead a yoga session. He didn't even do any yoga. He just sat there and watched, commenting about her pretzel stretches under his breath in a way that reminded me a lot of Mineta. They did make it to the final event at least, which was of All Might delivering a speech highlighting this year's fledgling heroes and the importance of uniting against the League of Villains. It was inspiring and I'm not ashamed to admit it brought a tear to my eye.
Another happy moment came when I returned to the dorms that Sunday night. My classmates threw me a small welcome back party, complete with pizza and games, and the event even had Iida's stamp of approval. I got to tell them all about our adventures in Oshima and Ochaco had all my pictures printed out for me, so we went through those together too.
Fear of her never showing up grows with each passing day, regardless of the small niceties that everyone tries to distract me with. Even now, as I'm filling out my annoying food log that Dr. Kaneko insisted I continue, there's an overwhelming feeling of trepidation that I just can't seem to shake.
"Hey Deku," Ochaco begins over a mouthful of cashews, "don't forget you didn't finish your yogurt this morning." She presses her finger to my notebook, noting that it says, "1 yogurt cup." "You can't mark it as a whole if you only ate some of it."
And that's another thing. Everyone has decided to jump on the "Feed Izuku" bandwagon, turning my personal ordeal into a full-blown spectacle. It's probably the only part of my old life that I missed before Kacchan got involved. I was able to eat OR not eat in peace. "Oh yeah… would you look at that. Thanks for pointing that out for me." I don't think she caught on to my sarcasm because she responded with a sincere "of course!" while watching as I corrected it to a "partial yogurt."
"So, have you thought about what you're going to do…this…summer….?" Her voice trails off as she talks, starting with full momentum until it just kind of dies out into an awkward mess. Clearly worried, she waves her hands in front of her, back pedaling a bit. "Oh gosh! That was so insensitive of me, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to imply… well, it's just… I guess you'll be taking care of your health! I was just thinking about training camp and, I just- I'm sorry, Deku."
"It's okay, I don't mind talking about my summer plans." I offer her a small smile in an attempt to show her I'm not upset. "I'll be spending a lot of time at the hospital, keeping tabs on hero news, stuff like that. Unless something big changes, I can't go to training camp this summer, but Mr. Aizawa has offered me an alternative assignment so that's good I guess."
She relaxes once she realizes I'm willing to talk about it and she didn't trigger some kind of profound depression. "What kind of assignment? I'm sure whatever it is, it'll be fun for you. You love writing about heroes and tactical stuff."
Laughing, I reply, "That's true! But actually, since the camp is supposed to help us hone in on our quirks, he wants me to write about the specific shortcomings of my quirk and what I can do to overcome them."
"Ugh! That sounds like a pain." After taking a minute to eat more cashews and think about the assignment she adds, " I guess if I were writing it I'd start with my quirk's side effects but I don't think I could write a full paper about it."
If only I could say the same. I could write a whole thesis paper on why my body isn't compatible with my quirk and all the things I've had to do so far just to overcome that. But now, despite my hard work, it seems it might all be for naught. I don't tell her that though. Instead I just shrug my shoulders indifferently. "I'm sure I'll think of something. I have plenty of time to think about it."
"Think about what?" The familiar, gravely voice that could only resonate from Kacchan has me looking over to the side, while he approaches our table with his usual swagger and cocksure grin.
Sitting next to me, he rests his arm over my shoulders, pulling me in for a quick kiss before picking up his sandwich from his tray to take a big bite. I look up to him from beneath my lashes, feeling much more at ease with him here with me. I don't remember when I became so dependent on this explosive blond, but I guess there are worse things.
"Hey Kacchan! I was just telling Ochaco about the paper Mr. Aizawa assigned me."
"Better do a good fucking job on it, Deku. You're not allowed to slip behind me, you're still my rival after all." This is Kacchan talk for, "I wish you could come to training camp too. We were supposed to challenge each other and grow stronger together." I slip my hand under the table, searching until I feel the smooth fabric of his linen trousers just beneath my touch and give his thigh a light squeeze to let him know I understand. His hand squeezes my left shoulder in response, our nonverbal way of offering support comforting when surrounded by so many people.
Iida, who is seated on Ochaco's other side, chooses now to add his two cents. "I'm certain Midoriya will be able to write an exemplary paper that will be nothing short of Plus Ultra."
"Thanks, you guys. I'm sure it'll be fine. It's not as good as practical experience but I guess these alternative assignments are better than redoing the end of second year." I'd still much rather be on the field with everyone else but beggars can't be choosers.
Just then, the announcement speaker sounded overheard, startling all of us. "Midoriya, Izuku to the principal's office, Midoriya, Izuku to the principal's office."
"I wonder what that's about?" I question while cleaning up my place at the table and moving to throw out my trash.
Kacchan stands next to me, stuffing the remainder of his sandwich in his mouth while nodding in the direction of the exit. He chews quickly and swallows before taking a swig from his water bottle. "Let's go, Deku. Hurry the fuck up."
"I'm pretty sure they just asked for Midoriya-"
With a scowl on his face, Kacchan cuts Mineta off while yelling, "We're a package deal. Fuck off, Grape nuts." His outburst earns him a disapproving glare from Iida while the rest of the table snickers under their breaths. I can't tell if they're laughing because of his reaction to Mineta or because we've been glued at the hip lately.
We walked quickly and silently to Nezu's office, the wide hallways lined with lockers relatively empty while most students were either in class or at lunch. I knock on his door twice before slowly opening it, finding him standing inside next to Aizawa.
"Last I checked, there was only one Midoriya. Go back to lunch problem child" Mr. Aizawa drawled while pointedly staring at Kacchan with his bloodshot eyes.
We both know he's just picking on Kacchan and for maybe the first time ever, Kacchan doesn't bite. Instead he asks, "What's this all about?" while gesturing at the two with his hands.
Nezu slowly sips from his teacup before setting it on his desk, pausing dramatically and drawing out the suspense before finally answering. By the time he does, Kacchan's right brow is twitching, his hands anxiously clenching and unclenching at his sides. "I have important information to share with you, which came directly from Detective Tsukauchi." He stops again, beady eyes darting between us until Kacchan can't hold it in anymore.
"AND?! What does he want with Deku? Spit it out already!"
Aizawa groans at his outbursts, rubbing his eyes with his hand while Nezu seems to be amused. "He wants you to head over to the police station immediately. They found her."