The beeping sounds were the first thing to register. Quiet at first, but the more he focussed on the noise, the louder it seemed to get. Danny winced. Something moved against his face and his eyes shot open. There was a hard, plastic, cone-thing covering his nose and mouth. He reached a hand up to pull it off, but his arm was stuck. He pulled, but his wrist was strapped tightly to the railing along the bed. His first instinct was to pull harder, but that turned out to be fruitless. The beeping sound sped up, ringing in his ears as he tried to break free. With a thought he made his arm intangible. It remained strapped to the bed. Danny froze. He reached out with his powers, as he'd become accustomed to, but his arm remained solid and bound.
How…?
Danny immediately raced through his thoughts, feeling for the icy core of his ghost half. The heart monitor's beeping seemed to quicken its pace further, but that was little more than an afterthought. Only now did he notice that his shoulder ached and his skin felt raw in some places. He also had a massive migraine that was quickly overwhelming the other feelings. That wasn't important right now, though. He tried to put the pulsing ache behind his eyes aside and dove into his core, feeling around blindly for something that was normally overwhelming and unmistakable. He couldn't find it. His core. His ghost half. It wasn't there.
No, wait!
There!
It was just a flicker, but Danny knew that icy chill instantly. It was distant and muted, as if it had been thrust under the ice of a frozen lake. He couldn't touch it. He couldn't access his ghost half at all. But it was there.
Why was it there?
A door opened and Danny's thoughts were thrust back to the room and his aching head and shoulder. His gaze fell upon a small crowd bustling into the room, one after another. Two nurses, a man who he recognized as one of the officers from the station, and a couple others who's status he couldn't guess based on their uniforms or lackthereof. He tried to flinch back as the nurses reached out to him, but the straps around his wrist kept him bound tight. Everyone was speaking in Japanese and regardless of his attempts, he couldn't get out of reach of the hands that came for him.
"Get back!" he hissed, the sound muffled by the mask-thing on his face. "Stop it! Let go of me!"
There were too many hands. Too many voices and people moving and hands on him. His heart was racing and the monitor was beeping and his head pulsed painfully. His thrashing hardly helped the matter. No one was even paying his demands any mind. He couldn't recall a time he'd ever wanted to phase out of a room more than he did in that moment. But that normally simple escape had clearly been taken from him. A hand reached out and pulled the mask off his face. He lunged forward and snapped at the too-close hand, gnashing his teeth despite himself. The nurse flinched back with a squeak of surprise. From the end of the bed, the officer surged forward, saying something as he moved, and put his hands on Danny's shoulders, forcing him back against the bed.
"Get off of me!" Danny growled. "Stop it! Let me go! Let me go!" Rage and fear and pain were overwhelming and all he could think about was how he was going to get out of this. He had to get out. He had to-
"Danny!"
Danny faltered. He knew that voice. He turned his head and caught sight of a tall man in a leather jacket and long, blonde hair. It took a moment for Danny to recognize him, with his hair down and the big bulky collar thing missing from around his neck, but the tiny mustache and colored shades registered after a moment. Present Mic. Danny blinked. He was only given a moment before the hands on him shifted and he immediately resumed his struggle.
"Woah woah, hey! Chill out, kid." Mic said, taking a few steps into the room. He said something quick to the officer and nurses, who paused in their efforts. One responded and Mic nodded before saying something else. Then the hands lifted off of him and everyone seemed to take a step back. All except Mic.
"Easy there, Danny." he said, lifting his hands like one would when approaching a wild animal. Danny figured he probably should have been insulted by that, but at the moment he really couldn't care less about what anyone thought of him. Mic didn't back up, but he didn't make any move to come closer either. "They're just trying to help, alright?"
"What's going on?" Danny asked, eyes flicking between Mic and the other occupants of the room.
"It's ok. You just spooked them." Mic said, his voice calm and clear. "Your heart rate went up too high too quickly. They're just trying to help you."
"Why am I strapped down? What's going on? Why can't I phase through these? What did you do to me?" The questions poured out of him before he could stop and suddenly the beeping returned and the voices grew frantic again.
"Danny, you need to calm down." Mic said, keeping his voice as calm as before. "I'll explain everything, but you have to get your heart rate back down first, okay?"
"I don't give a damn about my fucking heart rate!" Danny barked. "Why can't I go ghost? What did you people do to me?"
One of the nurses said something and then the three from before rushed forward again. Once more Danny was held down. His head pulsed. His shoulder screamed. In the background he could hear Mic's voice telling him that everything was fine and that he just needed to relax. Then there was something sharp on- no, in his arm. And then everything seemed to fade. He'd been drugged and tranqued enough times to realize what was happening, but it never stopped being unsettling. His body relaxed against his will, falling limp and still against the sheets. The infernal beeping seemed to slow and the world around him blinked back to black. The voices faded out soon after that.
This time, when consciousness returned to him, his memories raced to settle into his mind before he could even think to move. He let them come, keeping his breathing steady as he sorted through what he could recall.
He was in a hospital room… again. It'd be really nice if that didn't become a habit.
The beeping sound off to the right told him that he was still hooked up to a heart monitor. Good to know. Whatever breathing mask he'd had the first time he'd woken up had been removed, so at least he didn't have to deal with that. He turned his arms ever so slightly, only to find the straps from before still firmly in place. Actually, he was pretty sure his pinkie fingers had long since fallen asleep. The familiar pins-and-needles sensation lingered if he tried to move his hands too much. He wasn't really surprised.
He recalled struggling and trying to fight off the nurses and officer from before. If he'd cared a bit more he might have been embarrassed at his own behavior, but at the moment it did little more than to explain why the restraints were deemed necessary in the first place. He had tried to bite one of them. He couldn't really blame them for wanting to keep him restrained.
His thoughts drifted to his ghost half and he quickly found himself reaching out for it once more. Just as before, he found it only barely noticeable behind some kind of barrier. If he hadn't known where to look for it, he likely wouldn't have noticed it at all. The thought sent a chill down his spine. He'd become so accustomed to feeling that part of himself, lingering on the edge of his mind. Never more than a stray impulse out of reach. It was his other half. And now he had to seriously search just to find the slightest shadow of it, hidden and out of reach.
But it wasn't gone. It wasn't even weakened. That much he could tell for sure. Ghost powers or not, he'd been surrounded by ghost energy for long enough to recognize the feel of it. His ghostly core was no different. It writhed and ebbed beyond the barrier, just as strong and ready to react as ever. It pulsed and stretched, as if reaching out for him to reclaim it.
And he so desperately wanted to.
It never really occurred to him how safe he felt, knowing that he could easily turn intangible to escape a trap or avoid an attack. Even in day-to-day instances, being able to hide in plain sight invisibly or sense when a ghost was about to attack, was a major part of his existence that he'd been taking for granted. Of course, that last one hardly seemed as relevant in Japan as it had in Amity Park, but regardless. The sense of security his powers provided only really made itself known in their absence.
Beyond that, he didn't feel like himself without his ghost half. It was like a piece of him had been cut out and put in a jar on top of a shelf he couldn't reach.
Ugh.
He wasn't sure who would get more of a kick out of that mental image, the Guys in White or his clueless parents.
His eyes snapped open.
The room was dark. The lights, which had been so bright before, were considerably dimmer now. No doubt a setting for nighttime to soothe sleeping patients. There were no nurses or officers in the room this time around. The only sound was the steady beep of the monitor to the right of the bed.
None of this really registered in Danny's mind though. No, instead another memory forced its way to the front of his thoughts and demanded his full attention. Images flickered behind his eyes. The break-in at the station. His escape attempt. Getting past Aizawa. Fixing the portal gun. Trying to fly out of the city. The fire guy. Fire. Fire everywhere. Flames licking at his skin. Flames engulfing the portal gun. The melted gun. The gun was melted. His way home was destroyed. His only way home… was…
"Danny?"
Danny turned his head and locked eyes with Present Mic. The older man was sitting in a chair off to the left of the bed, nearly hidden in the shadows of the room. He leaned forward, casually resting his elbows on his knees and setting his chin on his folded hands. Danny blinked at him. Mic's eyes flicked up to look at something over Danny's shoulder. Danny turned his head and saw the monitor and only then noticed that the damn beeping had sped up.
"You alright, kid?" Mic asked.
Danny forced his eyes closed and made himself take a few deep breaths. The last thing he wanted was another wave of people rushing in and grabbing him again. His mind didn't want to let up though, insisting on throwing images of the fight back at him. What was worse, memories of his home started to flit in and out of his thoughts between the flames. He could feel the back of his throat tightening up. No. Nononononono. He was not about to fall apart, bound to a stupid hospital bed, in front of someone he barely knew. What was left of his intent latched onto his still aching shoulder. The one that had been so badly burned. Now that he thought about it, he could feel the uncomfortable heat of it. The throb under his skin and the stinging warmth under the bandages. He focussed on that. He tried to pull all his thoughts towards feeling that physical pain.
It was better than the mental pain that seemed so eager to dig into him at the moment.
"Shoulder hurts." he hissed, hoping that the crack in his voice was more convincing than revealing.
Mic nodded. "You want me to get a nurse for ya? They've already got you on a few pain meds, but since no one's really sure how your healing factor reacts with medication, they've been airing on the side of caution."
Danny nodded, not trusting his voice a second time. Mic stood and went to the door. When he opened it, Danny caught a glimpse of an officer standing outside. Clearly he wasn't about to get any privacy anytime soon.
He wasn't going home anytime soon either.
The too tight feeling in his throat tried to rear back up and he could feel his eyes start to water.
No. No! The shoulder. Focus on the shoulder. Pain and burning and warmth and stinging skin. He twisted his arms in the straps and flexed his legs.
There!
His right ankle was burned too. Actually, the more he focussed on it, the more he began to realize that this burn was even worse than the shoulder. How had he not noticed that one sooner? Of course, now that he had noticed it, he couldn't go back to ignoring it.
Wasn't that the whole point of this train of thought though? Focusing on physical pain to help ignore the mental shit? He was starting to wish he'd stayed oblivious to his wounds for at least a little while longer.
Mic stepped back into the room, followed by a stern-faced, bespectacled nurse. The woman strode forward with purpose and began tending to the monitor and checking notes on some sort of holographic pad she was carrying. After a few, short moments she turned her cold, piercing gaze to Danny.
"Hello, Mr. Fenton." she said, her english heavily accented. But at least it was English. "You need more pain medication, yes?"
Danny nodded. "My shoulder, and my leg." he hissed.
She nodded, as if expecting the description, and tapped the screen a few more times. Then she reached out and pulled an IV-bag-stand-thing from the corner of the room. She quickly and efficiently went about attaching a bag and uncapping a needle at the end of a long tube. Once satisfied with her work, she turned back to Danny and paused, holding the needle in one hand where he could see it.
"This is IV." she explained. "It will help with pain. Do not fight."
Danny nodded and kept as still as he could. He made himself focus on a dark spec on the ceiling, instead of the needle. A quick pinch was soon replaced by an uncomfortable feeling of something foreign sticking out of his skin. At first he felt nothing. Maybe something slight, but nothing even remotely close enough to distract from the too-hot skin and stinging. He winced and the woman adjusted a little device attached to the bottom of the bag. She continued to glance between Danny and the device, making little adjustments after a few moments, then waiting, then fiddling with it again. Then, slowly Danny started to feel a pleasant numbness creep through his body. Well, not numbness exactly. He could still feel the straps around his wrists and the warmth of the burns, but the pain was fading, finally. As the pain faded out, a fog seemed to roll over his thoughts. He found that focussing on anything was quickly becoming a chore. Instinctively he hated that. He hated feeling at all out-of-control of himself… and yet… his mind was just barely dipping across the thoughts he was trying to avoid and then he was thinking about that spec on the ceiling again. Never enough to feel more than a basic sadness and then with a turn of his head he latched onto something else to think about.
That was… a relief…
The nurse left. Had she said anything? Danny didn't remember. Oh well. Probably wasn't important anyways.
"Feeling better?"
Danny lolled his head around and found Mic, sitting back in his seat, watching Danny from afar.
Danny nodded. "Much better."
"Good." Mic said. "You shouldn't have to be miserable while you heal."
Danny frowned. "Can't feel my powers. Don't know if I will heal. Not like normal. Well… normal for me."
Mic made a sound, almost like a laugh. "Two minutes in and you're already high as a kite, huh?" He sighed. "Yeah. The police managed to find a quirk repressing cuff that seems to work on your super special powers. They put it on your ankle there." He said, pointing to the end of the bed.
Danny lifted his head. "That why my ankle hurts?" he asked, tentatively wiggling his right leg.
"No, that's from the burn." Mic explained. "The cuff is on the other leg."
Curious, Danny wiggled his left leg. He felt something hugging at his ankle, but it wasn't necessarily uncomfortable. Just unusual. "Okay."
Mic lifted a brow at him. "Glad to see you're taking house arrest so well."
Danny turned to look at the other man, his brows furrowing. "I'm not going to prison?"
"Well, to be honest, the courts are going to have to figure out the details long term, but for right now, no. You're not going to prison." he shifted in his seat. "But you are in a heap of trouble."
Danny nodded, his head wobbling a bit more than it really needed to. "That makes sense. I did break into the police place."
"And stole evidence. And resisted arrest." Mic said, sitting back and holding up a hand as he counted off the list of Danny's apparent crimes. "Not to mention the fight with another pro in public and the resulting collateral damage."
Danny frowned. Collateral damage. He knew what that meant. "I didn't... I didn't hurt anyone... did I?"
Mic sighed. "There's a couple of civilians who got some minor cuts and bruises, but nothing major. The buildings around the park and the park itself are another matter entirely."
"Hey, the fire dude did more damage than I did for that bit." Danny hastily slurred.
"Endeavor is already facing reprimands for allowing the fight to grow as out of hand as it did and is prepared to put a hefty personal donation towards repairs."
"Well… good." Danny said, nodding as if pleased by that answer. He moved to cross his arms, but the straps held them steadily to the bed railing. Danny rolled his eyes. "The stealing thing is stupid though. The portal gun was mine in the first place. My property. If anything the police stole it from me and I was just taking it back."
Mic laughed, but there was an edge to it. "Somehow I doubt the courts are going to see it that way. But, maybe your representative will get you a good lawyer. If it even goes that far."
"Repra- repersen- titive?"
"Representative, kid." Mic said. "A social worker, to be specific. They've been assigned your case and are in charge of making sure your being taken care of properly for as long as you are without a legal guardian."
"Oh…" Danny mumbled. His thoughts lingered over that topic for a moment. He didn't have a legal guardian in this world. He didn't have anyone, really. No family. No friends. He might have had Aizawa, but given that the man wasn't in the room with him at the moment, he figured he'd successfully burned that bridge beyond repair.
"I fucked up." Danny mumbled, feeling his eyes grow wet once more. "Made the wrong choice. Again... " he huffed, turning his head to try and press his face into the pillow. This was the Nasty Burger thing all over again. Except this time, he doubted Clockwork would be able to come to his rescue.
On the up side though, at least Vlad wasn't here. So Dark Danny couldn't be a thing in this universe. Right?
He decided to just run with that logic. It made enough sense for now, though it did little to make him actually feel any better.
"He hates me, doesn't he?" Danny mumbled.
Mic's brow furrowed. "Who?"
"Aizawa."
Mic sighed. "Kid, I'm not gonna lie, he's pretty damn pissed, but that's not why you're getting a social worker. You were supposed to get one from the start, but given that your situation was so unique and we didn't expect you to be here for an extended period of time, the rules were bent for you." Mic explained.
"Why isn't he here then?" Danny mumbled, noting that he sounded like a spoiled kid who wasn't getting his way. He could be embarrassed about that later though.
"He was when they put the cuff on." Mic said. "Wanted to make sure you weren't going to have any adverse reactions, ya know? Once we knew that you weren't gonna keel over, he had to get back to his actual job. The training camp got delayed a whole day already and I doubt he'd be willing to push it back any further." Mic leveled a look at him. "You're not the only rebellious teenager he's got to take care of after all."
"Rebellious… heh. Never us'ta be…" Danny mumbled, feeling his eyelids droop as he spoke. Knowing that Aizawa probably didn't hate him made him feel marginally better, though he still felt like shit. The exhaustion was starting to pull him back under again. He welcomed the feeling this time, not wanting to say too much with the drugs making it hard to filter his words. "'M gonna go back t'sleep now." Danny slurred. "Sorry…"
"That's alright, kid." Mic's voice drifted over to him. "I'll be here when you wake up again."
Hizashi remained true to his word.
He had planned to just stay until the social worker got there, but that had been before Danny had woken up. The kid had been out cold for almost a full day after the battle and when he finally roused, he had hardly been the same, non-confrontational teen that Hizashi had gotten to know. Not that he really knew him well at all to begin with. Still, it unsettled him to see the kid so distressed and upset. Even more so, once he'd really started to wake up and got to talking. If he'd thought Danny was a ticking time bomb of emotions a few days ago, the kid in front of him now was a volcano, ready to burst.
It didn't feel right to just up and leave him with a bunch of strangers, when he was in such a fragile state. And, since the school was on Summer Break already, he didn't exactly have anything else that he needed to do.
So, Hizashi stayed. He watched over the kid while he slept, translated for him when he needed things and introduced him to the social worker once she arrived. All the while, Danny seemed to shut down further and further as time dragged on. Whether it was the feeling of being cut off from his powers, or the loss that the kid was certainly starting to feel, he couldn't be sure. Hizashi decided not to press the issue and told the social worker just as much. She seemed to agree, though she made a point to say that Danny should start seeing a grief counselor once he got out of the hospital and settled into a more stable living situation. Her main focus, of course was handling all the legal jargon and in trying to keep Danny out of prison.
While Endeavor's legal team had unanimously agreed to put forth funds to repair damages caused by the fight, the debate over who to blame the incident on was still raging. Facing the number two hero's agency in court was no laughing matter. Even so, the social worker seemed convinced that neither Danny nor Endeavor would end up spending time in a courtroom. Hizashi doubted that very much, though he was hardly an expert in that kind of stuff. He had his own legal team who worried about such things for him, not that they had actually spent any time on him since he started at UA.
Danny ended up spending another night in the hospital while the worst of his injuries were tended to. His healing factor had been reduced significantly from what Hizashi understood, but he was doing better than expected, considering the severity of the burns. The nurses seemed pleased with his progress, though Danny was still being prescribed pain killers for the next few days. Once the nurses and doctors were convinced that he was healing well enough, they discharged him.
The social worker set everything up so that Danny could stay with Hizashi temporarily, while they arranged a more permanent living situation for the kid. It seemed like everyone had very different opinions on where Danny should be kept long term. For now though, Hizashi had the space, the resources, the status as a pro and a decent camaraderie with the kid. He was the best option they had for now.
Danny was unsteady on his feet at first, having to cope with the heavily bandaged right leg and clearly trying not to put too much weight on it as he moved. It was suggested he use crutches for at least the first week. Hizashi fully expected Danny to object to the idea, as any teenager in his case likely would, but he didn't. Danny just nodded and accepted the offer with the same blank look that he'd been wearing since he'd woken up, plastered onto his face. The sight didn't sit well with Hizashi.
When it was all said and done, papers signed, custody overturned, contact information traded and instructions given, Danny and Hizashi didn't make it out of the hospital until well past sunset. Danny didn't speak on the car ride home. Hizashi didn't expect him to. He just stared out the window and sat, still and silent. It was more than a little unsettling. He had hoped the kid would make a comment about the size of the house as they pulled up, though he wasn't surprised when Danny hardly reacted at all.
"I set up the guest room on the second floor for you." HIzashi said, as he led Danny into the foyer. "Feel free to explore if you want. My room's down that hall on the left if you need me." He explained, pointing down one hall as they passed it by. Hizashi led them up the stairs and continued explain where notable rooms were, kitchen, bathrooms, theater room, etc. Danny hobbled up the stairs behind him, offering no commentary as he looked where Hizashi pointed.
They came to the guest room and Hizashi opened the door. Inside was a simple queen bed, a desk and drawers that fit into part of the wall to allow for more floor space. Off in one corner were a few shopping bags. Some were from his and Danny's first trip to the mall, still filled with the clothes he'd bought for the kid. Others were new.
"Took the liberty of getting you a few more clothes." Hizashi said, watching Danny take in the room with that same blank expression on his face. "There's also a few other things in there. Sudoku book. Music card. A few things to decorate with. Nothing to paint the walls or anything, just knick knacks, mostly. I know the room's pretty bland. Figured you'd want to… make it less bland, I guess?"
The silence that lingered in the air between them felt all at once deathly still and charged with unspoken tension.
"Okay then!" Hizashi pushed off of the door frame. "You know where to find me if you need me." He turned to leave and then paused. He really didn't want to add anything else onto Danny's plate, but it was best that he found out now, rather than later. "Oh, one more thing. Figured you should know, given your history with running off on your own." he pointed at Danny's foot. The one that had the ankle monitor. "If you try to leave my property without permission, the police will be dispatched to come and track you down. And… well, to put it bluntly, this is the last time you're getting any breaks, kid... Sorry."
Danny nodded, setting his crutches against one of the walls and pointedly not looking in Hizashi's direction.
"I wish things were different, kid. Really…" He didn't know what else to say and Danny certainly wasn't giving him anything else to go on. Seeing that the kid wasn't going to respond, Hizashi sighed and closed the door behind him as he left.
Hizashi made his way back down the stairs and into the kitchen, flicking on the living room's tv as he passed by to fill the too-quiet air. The hospital food was hardly edible, much less appetizing, so he hadn't exactly been eating full meals while he had been staying with Danny. Now that he was back in his own home though, he was eager to stir up some actual food and put his growling stomach at ease. Before long the blonde was humming to himself as he cooked, letting some of the tension from earlier ease from his shoulders. By the time he'd finished preparing something that actually looked enticing, Hizashi felt better. Not great, but more like himself for sure.
He'd just started scooping servings into bowls, when a crash echoed down from the second floor. Hizashi dropped the bowl he'd been holding and raced up the stairs. A heavy thud and a frustrated shout met his ears as he neared the guest room.
"Danny?" he shouted, rounding the corner. "What's going-" he paused. Had to remember to speak in english. "Danny, what's- ?" His words caught in his throat as he threw the door open.
The bedside lamp lay shattered near the door, a dent carved into the drywall above it. The desk was overturned, its few contents spilled across the floor. All around the room shreds of cloth were strewn about. Pieces of shirts that had yet to be worn, torn and ripped and ravaged.
These broken objects were not what gave Hizashi pause.
Standing, hunched and shaking amidst the chaos, was Danny. His mask of neutrality was nowhere in sight, replaced with a whirlwind of emotions. Rage. Sorrow. Frustration. He growled, a guttural, animalistic sound that had no place coming from a human teenager, and hefted a ceramic bowl at the wall he was facing. It shattered upon impact, leaving another dent in the drywall.
"Hey!" Hizashi shouted.
Danny whipped his head around, noticing the other man for the first time. His red-rimmed eyes flickered green for a fraction of a second before sputtering back to blue. Fury, laced with pain, seemed to swirl behind his eyes. Tear tracks lined his cheeks and every muscle from his jaw to his hands were wound up and shuddering.
"What!" Danny shouted, his hands balling into fists as he glared at Hizashi. "What do you want? What else could you possibly want from me?" His voice broke as he screamed. "In case you haven't noticed, I've got nothing left to give! You people have taken everything from me! Everything! My home. My family. My friends. My powers. My free fucking will!" His eyes squeezed shut, sending more tears streaming down his cheeks. When he opened them next he turned and grabbed something off the ground. A plastic rocket Hizashi had found online. He'd thought the kid might like it. Might make him feel more at-home. He hurled it at the wall and Hizashi watched it break apart.
"I don't want your gifts!" Danny started. "I don't want any of this crap! I never did! I never wanted to be here! I never wanted to come to this stupid world and have everything I cared about stolen from me! You- you stole it! You took it all… all of it… all of it…" The last words caught on a sob and the heat and fury seemed to be seeping out of him. His shoulders shook and he dug his hands into his dark hair, pulling it harshly as he began to curl in on himself.
"Danny." Hizashi said, his voice quiet in a room filled with heavy breathing and broken sobs. He took a step into the room and Danny's head shot up, catching Hizashi with another glare.
"Dont. Don't you dare take another step closer!" He hissed.
Hizashi stopped and held his hands up. "I'm sorry, kid."
Danny barked out a laugh that sounded all too hollow. "Yeah, I bet you are." he said in a mocking tone. His lip twitched and his head turned down so that Hizashi couldn't see his face. "Get out."
"Danny-"
"Just leave me alone!" He shouted, locking eyes with Hizashi again and taking a bold step forward. "Or is privacy just one more thing I no longer have anymore? One more thing you bastards want to take from me."
Hizashi wilted at that.
The kid was hurting. Obviously. The dam had broken and this was the result. Even if the kid wasn't cut off from his powers, Hizashi doubted he'd have the will to impose on his grieving.
He let his hands fall to his sides and stepped back towards the door. Danny watched him go. Hizashi paused, his hand on the door handle, eyes downcast.
"I'll be downstairs if you need me." Hizashi said, his voice quiet and steady.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw some of the rage melt off of Danny's shoulders before he closed the door. He forced himself to take deliberate steps down the hall, away from the mess of a kid left in the room. As he reached the top of the stairs he heard the wrecked and unrestrained sobs, only slightly muffled by the door and walls.
His heart broke at the sound.
He forced himself down the stairs and back into the kitchen to retrieve his forgotten dinner. Robotically, he scraped the food into containers and stuck them in the fridge. His appetite was long gone and his mind was still back in that room, with the crying boy who'd lost everything.