Secondhand
achieving elysium

chapter five

chapter five

Nana did not go with Sorahiko to the hospital the first night. He'd pulled a few strings and got them accomodations for at least two days, a small but secure hotel where they would stay. Midoriya would be in the hospital for a while yet. Sorahiko had business in Hosu now, for reasons he told her he'd explain. Nana would stay for both of them and to help where she could.

Sorahiko left her, and Nana tiredly trudged through the door to their shared room. She didn't have an extra set of clothes, though the hotel staff had been kind enough to provide her with some pajamas that Nana changed into. A too-big shirt and pants with elastic. She kept the bathroom lights off, relying only on the light streaming through the square window in the far corner. Nana did not want to see herself, and carefully showered, then cleaned the cut on her arm. She rewrapped it, and then felt the split skin on her palms as a small wound slowly opened at the base. She wrapped those, too.

When she was done, she didn't sleep, even though every part of her body was begging her to. There was too much happening for her to sleep. Nana knew Sorahiko would have scolded her for it, but she stood in front of the tall glass windows and paced. There was still smoke in the city. Flickering lights that continued, like a cry for help.

She had been to Hosu before several times; she'd never lived here, but it was only a short train ride away. This was not the Hosu she remembered, marked by a dark trickle of blood in a back alley.

This was not the world Nana remembered at all. For the first time it seemed to sink in that Nana was in a different time. It was not the electric shock every time she peered into Sorahiko's wrinkled face, or the muddled confusion of a new coffeeshop she had never seen before.

It was the helplessness. There was a storm brewing on the horizon that Nana was blind to; she could feel the warm wind but couldn't make out the clouds that were building against the sun. She didn't know what was happening. She was dead. She was dead. There were villains—stronger and stronger. There were cracks her healing would not ease. She was dead, she was dead.

Nana put her hand to the window. The glass was cool to the touch, and she pressed her palm to it even if it hurt to do so.

"Tadao," she said, for the first time, "Tadao, I don't know what to do..."

Nana had thought herself strong. She was. But it wasn't enough strength to stop an avalanche, enough to brace the world on her back.

The day before her wedding Tadao had told her, finger tracing the rim of the ring he'd given her, we will walk forward together.

What she'd seen tonight had only been scratching the surface. What were Toshinori's burdens were hers; Sorahiko's, and Midoriya's. She felt the back of her neck prickle.

There was a soft beep as a card was swiped, and Sorahiko came in. He didn't turn the lights on, mindful, but he did see her standing; she saw him in the glass reflection.

"Still awake," Sorahiko said, snorting. He jerked his head towards the single bed. "You take it. I'll sleep on the couch."

"You old man," Nana said. She crossed her arms. "I'm taking the couch."

They glared across the room at each other. Nana lifted her chin, stubborn. Sorahiko's mouth twitched. And Nana thought, how peculiar, of all the things to argue over.

Eventually they piled onto the bed together anyway, like they were kids sleeping over. There was something comforting about it. She'd been sleeping alone. It was reassuring to know she could reach over, and it would be Sorahiko there. Sorahiko who she could trust.

She slept for a very long time. Dreams followed her steadily, morphing into memory. She could hear Tadao's voice echoing but couldn't see his face; the city burned; in the thick smoke she heard the crying of a child and every time she ran to him she could not reach him. Her hands burned and blistered and bled, and behind her a shadow fell in the shape of a man.

Nana woke up mid-morning, her face wet with tears.

The bed was empty next to her, the only indication anyone had been there a slight depression and a scribbled note.

Nana—

Sorahiko's handwriting, quick and messy, not the blocky letters Tadao would have written her.

Cleanup in Hosu. Don't be stupid. Take your time. Sorry I couldn't stay - in enough trouble as it is.

Then he'd written down an address. Nana put it in her phone and saw it was closer than expected—not too far of a walk. She stretched, twisting her wrists and feeling the dull ache there. She'd overdone it, but Nana couldn't bring herself to regret that.

Sorahiko had the foresight to leave her with a set of clothes that wasn't her hero costume. He'd also left her breakfast, a cold half-sandwich with egg that Nana put in her mouth mechanically, not tasting it. She remembered what he'd told her the night before, about promises.

Nana followed directions to the address Sorahiko had written for her, then found herself outside a hospital. Surprised and faced with the front desk, she asked after Midoriya and was allowed to visit.

The three boys were sharing a room, and in the light they looked a lot better, bandaged and cared for. Nana smiled shyly when she ducked in, and Midoriya broke off mid-conversation to beam at her. His face lit up in genuine happiness to see her.

"Nana!" He grinned, and the bright boy seemed ages away from the one she'd held last night. "Good morning."

The pain eased.

"Good morning," she greeted, tipping her head, "will you introduce me?"

Next to Midoriya was Todoroki, the son of Endeavor. An evenly-split fire and ice Quirk, she noted, but what caught Nana's heart was the quiet way he conducted himself. A sort of melancholy Nana saw and felt for.

Iida was well-mannered and direct. He lifted his arms several times to gesture as he spoke but winced—the bandaging around his hands and arms seemed to suggest why. Nana would have offered to lessen the pain, at least, but she was sure Sorahiko would have strangled her for it. Like Midoriya, like Todoroki, he too seemed to carry a pain; she could see it pressing down on his shoulders, digging into his back like something unreachable. And clearer still, to Nana who had buried her husband and given away her son, he was grieving for someone.

She did not say anything about it. It wasn't Nana's right to, and not for the kids she hardly knew, but she did draw up a chair and talk. Nana wondered if there was anything she could do for them, and wished she could take each of them in her arms and say, it'll be alright.

In-between conversations, Midoriya subtly wove in an explanation of what happened. Iida had gone after the Hero Killer. Midoriya had gone after Iida. Todoroki had gone after Midoriya.

Officially, for the record—Endeavor had defeated Stain, the Hero Killer. It had really been the teamwork of the three of them that had brought down the villain that had been murdering heroes, a thought that sent chills down her spine. She hadn't been there until after the Hero Killer had been defeated... she couldn't protect them from what they'd seen.

Midoriya scratched the back at his neck and looked at her sheepishly.

"Gran Torino's been, er— stripped of his teaching license, though," he mumbled. "I feel bad- I, I mean, I had to go, but I'm sorry he lost it because of me."

She knocked her knuckles against his shoulder. "He's not going to have to put up with a bunch of students for a while. I'm sure he's beyond excited for peace and quiet."

Midoriya smiled, which meant Nana had succeeded.

She paused, then continued sternly. "You shouldn't have run off like that, though, Midoriya."

He looked down. "I know."

"That was— dangerous."

Dangerous was one word to describe it. Reckless. Idiotic, even. She couldn't deny that Iida would have been killed had Midoriya not been there, and couldn't fault his desire to save his friend, but in the clear morning light Nana was beginning to learn something about Midoriya.

"I know," Midoriya said again, stronger. She caught his gaze. He did know; he understood, at least a little bit.

"Let yourself lean on someone a bit," Nana murmured to him, flicking her eyes towards the others in the room. Iida and Todoroki had fallen into a steady conversation again, having recognized now that Nana was speaking more privately to Midoriya. "Back— Sora and I always had each other's backs."

Midoriya perked up.

"Were you guys partners?" He flushed. "I mean, as heroes..."

She ran her tongue over her teeth. "Not officially."

Every movement Nana made as a hero, every decision—it had to be careful, a little calculated.

"We were concerned about painting a target on each other's backs," Nana told him, "so officially, no, we weren't. But we didn't have to be."

Midoriya drummed his fingers against his leg. "It just never occurred to me. Erm, Gran Torino doesn't seem like the type to, well, he's just, well. Alone?"

"He has a good heart," Nana said firmly. "He might not seem like he's got a good head on his shoulders, but he's just messing with you."

Midoriya frowned.

"We fight well together," she told him, "and we— you have to understand someone to put your life in each other's hands the way we would have. He knows me in a certain way that no one else has. Or will. I trust him with that."

"I think I understand that," he said quietly. "I wish I could…"

"Maybe one day," Nana offered. He looked sad.

"Maybe," Midoriya repeated. He was thinking of someone, she thought. Then he said, "But… what made you scared enough that you needed to hide it?"

Shinroku had said, we must keep you a secret as much as possible… All For One will never hear your name from me nor mine from you.

But Midoriya had asked her. Like he didn't know.

"Midoriya," she said quietly, lowering her voice. She flicked her eyes to the room's other occupants. "Do you know the- the scar that Toshinori has. Do you know who gave it to him?"

"No- no…" Midoriya's brows drew together, thinking hard. He was fitting the pieces together. "But what does that have to do with… I mean, you, but… the- the same villain that…?"

Killed me, Nana thought, and she read the words in his drawn face.

"Yes."

Midoriya blinked at her. His mouth trembled, and then he said, "I'm sorry."

She lifted her shoulders in a shrug and spread her hands. "There's not much to be done about it now. The villain— well, he's… And this," she paused, gesturing between them, "is my second chance. A taste of a life that I might not have gotten to see."

She frowned. Toshinori had said something, the first time he'd seen her… I couldn't do it… I couldn't defeat him. All For One was still out there, waiting.

Midoriya reached up to rub at his eyes. "Doesn't that make you sad?"

"It makes me grateful."

"I guess," Midoriya said, and when he still looked unhappy she asked him about it.

"Well— I'm glad I got to meet you," he told her, tugging his lip between his teeth, "but before I… hardly even knew who you were. All, er, To- Toshinori never mentioned you. Or that there was a villain that you, um, fought."

"No one told you?"

Midoriya winced, and she saw the other boys glance over sharply. Nana smiled apologetically; she hadn't meant to say it like that.

"I'm sorry," she said quickly, "but there.. You don't know."

He shook his head slowly, eyes widening a fraction. Nana felt her mouth draw into a frown.

He didn't know. About All For One. He didn't know.

"I'm going to—"

Nana floundered. She didn't know what she was going to do. It'd been hard enough to drag herself out of bed. To Midoriya, she was a ghost from the past, a stranger. He hadn't ever heard her name before they'd met.

"Are you mad?"

"Not at you," she reassured, then, "I don't— this is something you should- you should know."

Toshinori should have told him. Toshinori should have told him even before - or, at the very least, shortly after passing on the Quirk, like Nana had done to him, like Shinroku had done to her, back and back.

And though Nana had said nothing, Hosu had reminded her… there were always villains waiting in the shadows.

"Will you tell me then?"

She shook her head, and Midoriya gaped for a second before snapping his mouth shut.

"It's not my place," she told him. And it wasn't. "You need to know. And you need to talk to Toshinori about it… but he's your mentor, not me."

"But he—"

Midoriya clamped his mouth shut. He dropped his gaze, fiddling with his hands. Some sort of wall was rising between them, a painful part of him he was hiding away because he didn't want her to see. And Nana didn't know him well enough to tell what it was.

"The next time you see him alone," Nana said, pulling back into something more formal, professional, "please ask him about it. It is important that you know… even if he is no longer a threat."

"Alright," Midoriya said, blinking rapidly. "I will."

It was like speaking of him summoned Toshinori. He appeared suddenly in the doorway, loitering awkwardly. Midoriya lit up; Nana felt herself smile, too. The feeling was ruined by the still-remaining thought of All for One.

"Nana," Toshinori said in surprise. She reached to clasp his arm. Then he moved next to the bed, on the opposite side, to gaze down at Midoriya. "Hello, my boy."

Midoriya flushed. "Hi."

Toshinori raised a brow. He was smiling, but it felt a bit forced. "Looks like you got yourself into a bit of trouble."

Midoriya shrugged. "It was a— group effort."

There was a distant snort; they all turned to look at Todoroki, who glanced away. Toshinori turned back to Midoriya, a soft look in his eyes.

"Excuse me," Nana said, standing abruptly.

She nodded to everyone, then swept from the room. In the hallway, she straightened her back and strode away. A few people shifted out of her way.

There was no particular direction she was heading. Just— away. She scrubbed at her face roughly as she left the hospital and stood for a moment, staring out at the streets. Daylight really changed it.

Nana started walking. Keep going. Kept walking. Keep going. Just keep going. If you stop, you won't be brave enough to start again.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Nana reached for it, thinking to ignore the call—it would have to be Sorahiko. She didn't want to talk to him, not now.

But it wasn't. The number wasn't one she recognized. Nana hovered over her phone, stopping where she was, then picked up.

"Hello?"

There was a pause on the other end.

"Hello," came a voice. She didn't recognize it either; deep, calm, and quiet. "Am I speaking to Shimura Nana?"

Nana's blood ran cold. There was only a handful of people who knew she existed right now. Sorahiko. Toshinori. Midoriya. She hadn't given out her name anywhere, and she'd been careful, though not careful enough, it seemed. Nana hesitated.

She couldn't confirm it. Maybe someone had seen. Maybe someone she knew. Or maybe— no.

"Who's asking?"

"Ah, my apologies, Shimura. I got your number from All Might." A pause. "My name is Detective Tsukauchi. I'm investigating a… particular villain, and I think you might be of some help."