Fools.

They were all ignorant, short-sighted fools.

When AFO's 'successor' had suggested a method to reset Zero if he wandered off course, Garaki had been eager to oblige. Sometimes, all it took was a hardwire reset and all was well. But that was all it was meant to be. A reset. A reminder.

Not a babysitter.

This state of suspended consciousness was not good for his near perfect creation. It was causing damage that even he could not undo.

They had asked for a Noumu capable of adapting, of thinking through scenarios, and independent problem solving but with the overuse of this 'Drop' they were creating a braindead puppet.

Yes, Zero's outburst was…moderately concerning but this was groundbreaking research! There were bound to be hiccups along the way. Recovering from the loss of his lab would be costly, and the other…lesser…specimens perished though they were a dime a dozen. But Zero.

Zero was something special.

He'd watched the footage of the attack. He'd watched the surveillance footage from Zero's cell. He'd listened to the audio feed. Somehow, to his utter bewilderment, fragments of the hapless young boy remained.

'Deku' Zero had said, as if speaking to someone. He'd held a conversation, and although most of it was unintelligible, memory recall and recognition were evident.

It was fascinating, the tenacity of empowered youth. It took a firm hand to mold it into something more useful but they were so close.

If only those fools would stop mucking up his results…

Garaki shook his head, a sigh gusting past his lips. The halls of the hospital were bustling in the lavender light of morning. The energy was palpable. Orderlies rushed here and there, attending to patients and ensuring all of their needs were met.

He was lucky, truly, to have such dedicated staff. It was rare to see a new face amidst their ranks which suited him just fine. His wing of the hospital was composed mostly of veterans of the medical world whom he could trust. It made his job that much easier.

He nodded and smiled politely as many tossed enthusiastic greetings his way. This was his sanctuary. A place where his methods and treatments went mostly unquestioned. Only the occasional hero posed any real threat to his routine, and they had been annoyingly present as of late.

"Good morning, Lucia. It's wonderful to see you back so soon! How's your son?" He listened intently to her yammering as he checked over the patient records for any changes in condition overnight. "Good, good," he replied once she had finished telling him all about her son's most recent volleyball victory.

She beamed at him as he gathered what he needed for his first patient of the day.

To his immense joy, the morning was rather quiet. No overnight mishaps, no emergencies, nothing that required even an iota of brainpower. Mostly pleasantries and encouragement to those still recovering.

The breakfast crew was making their rounds by the time he came to his last patient. He pulled the clipboard from the back of the door and gave it a once over. The chair beside the door was unusually empty but he paid it no mind. If nothing else, the lack of restraint and tip-toeing around the boy's trauma promised a meaningful visit.

Garaki tucked the clipboard under his arm and pressed in.

The boy was sitting up in bed, staring blankly out the window, ignoring the tray of food in front of him entirely. He was skeletal with sallow skin mottled with innumerable scars. He was perfect, his sanity so fragile and left teetering dangerously close to an edge. One good nudge and it would shatter. He hoped to be the one to provide said assistance.

It had been months and, though his body was healed, his mind could not escape the darkness it had all but succumb to. Anxiety. Depression. Chronic dissociation. PTSD. The list went on and on.

So many gave him sympathy.

But what he needed was a solution. One Garaki was exceptionally eager to give.

"Good Morning Mr. Midoriya," Garaki greeted cheerfully. The boy jolted violently, knocking over the cup of water sitting precariously on the edge of his breakfast tray. He spluttered, no doubt resurfacing from whatever self deprecating thoughts that were swirling around inside his head to the feeling of cold water seeping into his clothes.

"I- oh no, I- I'm so sorry…" he stammered, scrambling to pick up the cup with shaking hands, but the damage was already done. Garaki gave him a knowing smile, not that he saw, then allowed the boy to fret for a few moments before stepping in.

"Oh, it's quite alright, son. Happens all the time." Garaki approached, setting the clipboard aside. "We'll get this all cleaned up in no time." He slid the rolling tray away from Midoriya who looked close to tears, bless him.

"Still not eating, I see," he continued, watching the boy discard his blanket and move to the side of the hospital bed.

The patient just shook his head, not meeting Garaki's eyes.

"It's only a matter of time before we will have to remove the feeding tube. It was never meant as a long term solution."

"I- I know. I'm sorry I just…" Midoriya swallowed, tracing where the tube was taped to his cheek idly as he spoke. "I want to eat…but every time I put food in my mouth…I- I just can't do it."

"Does it remind you of something?" Garaki watched as the boy's eyes went glassy. He covered his mouth as if to stifle a sob, but no such sound escaped past his crooked fingers. Again he shook his head, struggling to form words past the troublesome wall of trauma. "I will have to speak to your guardians about this. The prolonged use of an NG tube is strictly against procedure. Especially without explicit medical need. We will need to remove it very soon."

He didn't wait for the boy to reply, just went about peeling him out of his soaked sweatshirt. The boy flinched at every touch, breath hitching dramatically. As air hit the moisture on Midoriya's exposed skin, gooseflesh bloomed and a shiver ran through him. He looked miserable but Garaki didn't bother getting a new shirt, not yet. Those scars deserved to be out in the open, not hidden. Shigaraki's treatment of the boy had been barbaric, but the mosaic he'd left behind was inspiring.

Garaki tsked, displeased as the boy curled in on himself, hugging his knees to his chest. "It really is a shame…You had such potential." Midoriya whimpered at his words. "If only I'd gotten to you sooner. You could have been #01."

Keeping this boy here was such a waste. As he was, Midoriya had nothing to offer society. But just as with Zero, the sky was the limit with just a bit of finely-tuned intervention. Hadn't that been the plan all along? Had the League truly decided to just let this one go? Yes, they had Zero, but why stop there?

It was difficult to miss the threat of tears building at the corners of his eyes. If only he mourned for the same outcome as the doctor.

"Your physicians are at a loss, your teachers are exhausted, even your closest friend suffers while you stagnate in this hospital room. You're so caught up in your own trauma that you're blind to everyone else's..."

Inwardly, Garaki smirked as Midoriya crumbled further, fat tears dripping down his gaunt cheeks. The boy was predictable, his insecurities easy to poke at. And if he wasn't permitted to mend the boy's cracks with gold, he'd settle for reducing him to dust. No loose ends after all. "Not very heroic if you ask me. Do you even want to recover, Midoriya, or is this your way of giving up?"

"No, I'm- I'm not giving up! I'm trying…I don't- I don't want to be like this-"

Just then, the door to Midoriya's hospital room opened. "Oh no," the orderly cooed, softly. She entered, pushing a small cart in ahead of herself. She wore a sad smile that looked motherly in every way. "Are we having another rough morning?"

"I just want to get better," Midoriya whined, keeping his head buried in his knees. "I want to go home…"

"I know, honey, we want that too. You don't have to worry though, after some breakfast I'm sure you'll feel much better." Her smile was as saccharin as her words though she didn't linger, her attention shifting to the doctor. "Good morning, Doctor Garaki!" She parked the cart by the boy's bedside and slid out a drawer. Inside were two large syringes of the nutrient-dense mush destined for Midoriya's stomach. One was slightly darker in color, the consistency was also thicker but the boy would never know.

"Ah, thank you Korinne, this will definitely help. I can take it from here." Garaki stepped a little closer, leaning in though spoke loud enough for the boy to hear. "Thank you for being so patient with him. Taking the time out of your busy schedule to prepare this for him really makes such a difference."

"Oh, oh…It's not a problem! I'm just looking forward to seeing that smile everyone talks about! Let's do our best!"

As if the boy could oblige. He was so stuck in his head he probably didn't notice Korrine leave. Garaki took the large syringe, noting the meal replacement had been warmed, and went to Midoriya's other side. It slipped into the adapter with ease. Slowly, he depressed the plunger, allowing the liquid to slide through the feeding tube and almost immediately the boy sighed.

"Sit back for me, son. If you're determined to eat this way, it should at least be done properly."

Midoriya sniffed, not meeting the doctor's eyes and straightened. He placed a hand over his stomach, feeling his hunger satisfied and warmth spread from within. With every milliliter he took, his breathing calmed and the tears finally abated. Garaki couldn't stand crying and that's all this boy seemed good at.

"That's a good lad, nice and easy." Garaki said, once the first syringe was empty. The silence stretched as he began administering the second.

Midoriya's eyelids drooped, gaze fixed on the bed sheet he was absently working through his fingers. He slurred something about being 'full', that Garaki was going 'too fast', which he probably was, but Midoriya'd take what he was given, regardless.

"You don't want me to waste all of this do you?"

Midoriya shook his head, grimacing. He sat a little straighter, trying to get some relief from the uncomfortable stretch in his stomach, but Garaki knew it wouldn't help. He tried to sit quietly, to endure what was expected, just as he was taught, but he groaned as the last milliliter slipped through the tube. In his emaciated state, it was easy to see how distended his stomach was.

With another knowing grin, Garaki tousled the boy's hair. Midoriya leaned away from his touch, looking dazed. In spite of the warm food taking up residence in his stomach, an intense shiver racked his body.

Garaki chuckled, thrilled with how quickly the drugs were working. A light, rosy pink dusted across the boy's cheeks and to the side, the increase in heart rate was seen on the monitor. "Your recovery is not going to be an easy one, nor will it be comfortable. You must take these things in stride. Everything we do is to help you. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes…" Midoriya whined, but the nausea was starting to churn in the pit of his stomach. It was minor, not enough to make him waste the meal, but enough to make him miserable. Keeping him in a constant state of withdrawal was torture on his system, but it was such a simple way to keep him on that glorious edge. How long could he balance the line before taking a tumble? And of course, Garaki would have the front row seat.

"I could make it all go away, you know." Garaki replaced the syringes to the cart and took a seat beside Midoriya in the chair. "All the pain, the fear. All this trauma that's crippling you. It's a very simple procedure. I did the same for Bakugou."

"Kacchan?" The boy whispered the name almost reverently, brows furrowed in confusion.

"Yes, with my help, your dear Kacchan is doing so much better. If you're not careful he'll leave you behind."

"No no, he- Kacchan wouldn't do that." It was easy to see Midoriya didn't fully believe his own words.

"What, leave you? Son, when was the last time your Kacchan even came to visit?"

"Sensei- Sensei said that he's been busy."

"For four months? Midoriya, not even I am that busy."

At this, Midoriya's hands went still. He tucked his chin to his chest, his mop of hair obscuring his eyes. "I want to see Kacchan…will you tell him-"

"I'm sorry, Midoriya. As much as I'd like to, I simply can't do that to him. He's made so much progress. I hate to say it, but he can't stand to see what you're doing to yourself. He told me not to tell you… but he's so upset with you."

From his chair, Garaki could see the absolute horror contorting Midoriya's features. "He…he what?"

"He says you're being weak," Garaki said matter of factly, as if each word wasn't a knife in the boy's heart. He was shaking, at a loss for words, staring down at his hands. It was a wonderful look and he regretted not getting to enjoy it for longer. There was a faint buzzing in his pocket that required his attention.

He pulled the monitor free and checked the vitals displayed on the screen. Most were holding steady, though the heart rate was shockingly elevated. That wasn't the most startling change however. The brain activity was low, practically in stasis, with one exception. The amygdala. Zero was afraid.

How very strange…

He couldn't check the surveillance from here though. Interest thoroughly peaked, Garaki stood and made his way to the small closet where Midoriya's few temporary possessions were kept. He pulled out a blood orange sweatshirt and headed back to the boy's bedside. "This'll do nicely. Can you manage this on your own? I have another patient who requires my attention."

Midoriya looked up, but didn't otherwise respond. Garaki set the sweatshirt beside him then gave him a pat on the shoulder. "Keep what I said in mind. It's time to move forward from this, one way, or another. You just need to make a choice and I'll do the rest."

The door clicked closed behind him and no doubt the boy was still staring blankly after him. Perhaps he'd stay like that until someone came for him, lost inside a mind that didn't want him. It really was a pity, but if Garaki played his cards right, perhaps he could get the consent he needed to make some adjustments.

The more he thought about it, the more it seemed like the only plausible course of action. The League had started this whole ordeal with Midoriya with one goal in mind. Turn a promising student from 1A against the heroes and use their knowledge of the school and All Might against them. Not that Garaki particularly cared…but nevertheless, an opportunity had presented itself in the form of not one, but two subjects worthy of extensive research.

The progress he'd made with Zero alone was astounding, even with the troublesome meddling he had to endure. Could these results be replicated or even improved upon?

With a whistle on his lips Garaki made his way back down the hall toward the elevator. After pressing his thumb to the display and imputing an eight digit code, the doors slid shut and his descent began. As the elevator approached then passed the ground level, Garaki folded Midoriya's discarded sweatshirt and tucked it under his arm.

Perhaps it was time to teach Zero his next trick.

Fetch.