"Midoriya," Reo murmurs softly, "Why'd you do it?"
The two friends find themselves at the top of an impossibly high building, looking out across Musutafu. Reo stares longing out across the city. April brings with it marginally warmer weather, but the nights retain the bite of winter, especially at this height.
Reo never turns to look at him. "I want to know why," he says, pulling himself onto the building's ledge. "I want to know if you felt the same."
Izuku feels desperation claw its way up his throat. He can't move, can't speak. "Midoriya, was it a lie? Or do you really think I won't be able to fly?"
Midoriya wakes up sobbing the boy's name. Chest heaving, body shuttering. A passing nurse slips into his room, crouching beside his bed. She gently tries getting his attention as he hunches in on himself, clutching at his chest.
He doesn't want to be seen like this.
Another person enters, talking briefly with the nurse. He doesn't want to be here.
Someone holds his hand gently and he cries harder. He doesn't want Reo to ever feel the way he feels now.
Izuku technically has two doctors. One for his physical wounds, the other for his mental ones. The only one he actually likes is Dr. Sui.
His new one asks too many pushy questions. The man's coffee eyes are cold, uncaring. They're eyes that have seen too much and now lack the ability to properly care for other people's problems. He puts on a bit of a show in front of his mother to keep her from making complaints, but never when Izuku faces him alone.
That's why Midoriya doesn't have a problem lying directly to his face when he comes in early the next morning.
"Are nightmares something you have frequently?" The man asks in a monotone voice.
"Not usually."
He doesn't need to give them any reasons to keep him longer than they already have either.
The doctor nods silently. "That's good then. If they become a problem let either me or one of the nurses know."
The looming form of Dr. Sui slips into the room just behind the man, ducking beneath the doorway so her horns don't catch. The much shorter form of his mother slips in just after her. A gentle smile lights up Dr. Sui's face as she sets her eyes on Midoriya. "How are you feeling?"
Izuku offers the women a wobbly smile. "Much better. Morning, Mom."
"Good morning, sweety."
The other doctor gives the two women a silent nod before disappearing out of the room. Sui's coal tar eyes narrow as she watches the man leave while Inko takes a seat in the empty chair beside the boy's bed.
"Did you sleep well?"
"Not particularly," he replies, scratching absentmindedly at the back of his neck.
"Well, hospital beds aren't known for being the most comfortable," Dr. Sui cuts in, "But, it's already almost time for you to leave us so hopefully it won't be a problem for much longer," she tells him with a kindly smile, her eyes tracking the movement of his hand. "Now that you're almost ready to leave I think it's important to talk about some of your options moving forward."
The two Midoriya's nod along quietly, mood shifting to something a little more serious as the conversation changes.
"From what I've been told you should only need one more session with Recovery Girl before you're fully recovered physically. Shuzenji-san is going to give you a few extra days of rest before she sees you again, which means your next session will be at UA. I mentioned this before, but I wanted to remind you to not get your hopes up unnecessarily about your scars. They'll fade somewhat, but most of your wounds are likely to remain scarred, especially around the nape of your neck. It was allowed to heal somewhat before you came to us so both it and your surgical scar are likely to remain noticeable. Recovery Girl's quirk is a miraculous one and speeds up the body's natural healing process, but scars are still a part of that process."
"Of course," Midoriya murmurs. What is another scar to a body like mine that is already littered with them?
"For you it is yet another mark of failure," the voice in his head answers jovially.
From the corner of his eye Izuku can see his mother tense somewhat. He gently bites down on his
tongue, keeping his thoughts from wandering too far.
"Your other doctor should have already discussed the necessity of therapy. If he hasn't yet I'd be happy to talk it over with you both." Midoriya feels himself tense, his still tender ribs protesting. When there's no answer from either of them Dr. Sui pushes on. "UA obviously has their own counselor, but not everyone finds that he's a good match for them."
Izuku will admit that the thought of having to go to therapy hadn't crossed his mind. That was a mistake on his part. A dangerous mistake. Because the only free therapist that the Midoriya's had any access to was UA's, and UA's therapist was none other than the man that they had likely used to try and track Piper's coppery scent after his escape. Inui Ryo, The Hunting Dog Hero: Hound Dog.
"From what I've seen of Midoriya-kun's personality my personal opinion would be to refer you to another office. Finding a good therapist is, for lack of a better example, similar to shopping for clothes. Not everyone that you try will be the right fit for you and it's important to remember that you need to feel comfortable with whoever you choose." She looks between the two of them. "Several of the local therapist offices see UA students and alumni at discounted prices. I can have a list made up if that's something that you would be interested in."
But no matter how discounted, therapy costs money, money that his mother doesn't have. Izuku can feel his panic rising. Being in close proximity with Hound Dog was dangerous enough, let alone an onslaught of therapy sessions with him. Midoriya's done too much to keep his lie intact to have it all end with the hero recognizing his scent.
"That would be wonderful, thank you," Inko murmurs, squeezing his hand gently. "If you don't believe he'd be a good match then we'll definitely need suggestions."
Izuku looks at his mother with wide eyes. But... the cost...
The two women talk a bit more before Dr. Sui slips out of the room. Leaving them alone.
He realizes then that he'd underestimated Inko again. She had gone to unimaginable lengths to give him a good environment to grow up in a single parent household like theirs and she certainly wouldn't be giving up now. Therapy was a necessity, and she would not skimp on any costs in relation to it just as she hadn't when he'd asked for dojo lessons.
"Mom," he starts quietly, "I-I can quit the dojo..." The words are acid in his throat. "You're already having to work late a lot so w–"
Inko cuts him off. "I won't have you worrying about money, Midoriya Izuku," she scolds.
His heart sinks further in his chest, shaking hands with the acid there. "But–"
"Your father may have run off, but he's still legally obligated to pay child support." She squeezes his hand. "As far as I'm concerned it's just as important for you to continue at that dojo as it is for you to start therapy. I haven't touched any of the money that man's sent us in the last ten years out of pure stubbornness, but I'm not going to let something as petty as that keep you from getting the help that you need.
Izuku feels something in his chest clench painfully. He bites onto his lip, chin trembling as he pushes back tears. He looks down quickly, not daring to make eye contact with the woman.
"Surely you didn't think it would ever cross my mind to take away something so precious to you, honey."
He squeezes her hand back without replying.
"You're allowed to be a little selfish. You're allowed to put yourself first when it comes to the things you really care about." She gently guides him into an awkwardly positioned hug. "You're a kind boy," she murmurs into his hair, "Always so willing to sacrifice the things you love for the convenience of others. But, you don't have to do that with me. You shouldn't have to do that for anyone."
Izuku blames his unruly emotions on the hospital, blames it on the atmosphere of the psych ward. He can't seem to ever keep them in check here.
He's always crying these days.
He'd be lying if he said he hadn't been scared at his own suggestion. Even if he'd seemingly learned all that he could at the dojo, that place was still his second home. He didn't want to give it up. Rather than gaining anything from his vigilantism, it seems that lately he's only been losing things because of it. He didn't want to lose anything else to it. That's why I—
"Besides," Inko murmurs with a soft laugh, breaking him out of his thoughts, "I doubt Chee-san would allow you to leave so easy."
Izuku's eyes drift closed softly, relaxing in his mother's hold. Her chest hums gently as she talks, lulling him into a quiet place where all of his worries seem so very far.
That's why I have to kill Piper.
Shinsouhno ⟩
Today 10:39 am vlad king is a horrible pe teacher i think im going to collapse
i swear he alm
Glad I'm not there for it
... Almost what DID YOU GET CAUGHT TEXTING ME SHINSOU NO AKSJFDSJF
[Video: A black screen is shown, a loud rustling noise breaks through the speaker before a deep, muffled voice cuts through, "–f you can find time to text during PE then you can find time to do two more laps around the gym bef–!"]
Midoriya smothers a laugh. His mother had taken her leave shortly before and the nurse that is
checking his chart glances up at the boy, a smile on her face. "Something funny?" she teases. Midoriya flushes. "My classmate got caught texting me in class."
"Oh? A friend of yours?"
He smiles back at her sheepishly. "Hopefully."
Izuku plays the video again, eyes sparkling with star dust. He listens to it over and over again, pressing the speaker to his ear with a dopey grin just so he can hear it better. But, eventually the dopamine begins to wear thin, he tries to listen to it again, tries to keep the smile on his face. He tries so desperately to keep his thoughts from drifting to Reo.
In the end his efforts are futile.
Izuku hadn't heard from the teen since he'd last shown up in his hospital room muttering his last name like a curse.
Another text arrives from Shinsou, but he's nowhere near as lively as he had been before.
Why did it take his mother's tears to bring him back to reality? Why did it take Reo's cold fury for
him to realize his mistakes? Why do I hurt the people I love most?
The nurse studies his falling smile carefully from the corner of her eye.
"People can't live without hurting others," the voice in his head informs him jovially, "But you... you're special. You only ever hurt the people that care about you."
The woman's eye twitches and she quickly turns to him, mouth opening as if to speak before she pauses. She looks pensive. "It's true that..." she starts carefully, "That people can't live without hurting others."
Midoriya's head snaps towards her, surprised and borderline fearful of the woman's words. His mind races, a quirk? He tenses, uncertain about just how much she can hear of his thoughts, but she doesn't show anymore signs that she can hear what he's thinking as she pushes on.
"It's part of life. There's no way to avoid it, you know? And the people we love most are often the ones who end up feeling that hurt the most," she explains. She's looking away from him now, face twisted up in a way that tells him she's uncertain about whether she should have said anything to him at all. "You're not alone in that. Even when we don't want to, even when we try not to. It's so easy to hurt the people who care about you, but that's because they care, you know? When you hurt they too will hurt. That's normal. And you're by no means the only person who struggles with it." The uncertainty on her face clears and she turns back to him, resolve hardening. She looks sure in herself now, but some of that certainty slips away when they lock eyes.
He doesn't know what she sees when she looks at him. Does he look sad? Depressed? Suicidal?
He wonders if his eyes look close to weeping.
He doesn't know what expression he's wearing. He murmurs a barely there 'thank you' because while he doesn't know how to feel about what the woman had said, he can feel just how terribly those words mangle his heart. He can feel how they wage war against the voices in his head saying otherwise. The resolve slips back into her eyes, more apparent now than ever.
"My quirk lets me hear people's worst thoughts," she explains. "The darker they are the louder I hear them. When I first got my quirk I didn't realize what I was hearing. I assumed the thoughts I heard were the only one's people had. I thought the world was nothing but a corrupt and lonely place," the woman tells him quietly. She glances at the room's door, watching as someone passes down the hall. "It took me years to realize what my quirk actually was, and that the thoughts I'd been hearing didn't decide what kind of person someone was." She turns back to him. "The nicest people... They always seem to have some of the worst ones. That's why... yours... please don't listen to them."
Midoriya isn't sure how to respond to the woman's mini monologue. He's not sure she even expects him to, not with the way she glances at the door.
"I need to go check on another patient," she tells him softly. "But, please... don't forget what I said."
Izuku doesn't even know her name.
He thinks a lot about the woman's words, a bit of hope flaring every time a nurse comes to check on him. But she does not return. He doesn't even know what he'd say if he saw her again. That seems to be a recurring theme in his life recently, not knowing how to respond to people anymore.
He takes a walk around the hospital by himself to clear his mind. A few of the nurses give him wary looks and one tries to be stealthy about following him until peeling away when he reaches the courtyard he'd visited with his mother before.
It was hard to do anything when you were in a glass box like this.
He originally had plans of sitting on the bench they'd used last time, but instead finds a scarily familiar head of heterochromatic hair already occupying his spot. He feels his heart leap into his throat. He only needs to see the back of the boy's head to recognize him as none other than Endeavor's son donning one of UA's uniforms.
He curses under his breath, slipping behind a nearby tree to hide. There's nowhere to really hide in a glass courtyard like this one, but it keeps him out of sight of the boy.
Midoriya shakes himself out of it, peeking around the tree to check the boy's wrist for a hospital bracelet. He finds none.
He must be here to see someone else then.
Midoriya hasn't seen the boy since... Izuku tenses, shivering as he recalls the icy rapture of the USJ moments before he— before he—. Midoriya sucks in a deep breath, holding his side in phantom pain.
Thoughts like those would lead him nowhere good.
He peeks around the tree again. He doesn't want to leave just yet, he'd come here for a reason after all, and the Todoroki boy hadn't moved since Midoriya had come in... Really there was no reason for him to leave. He won't recognize him.
Izuku creeps around the tree quietly, taking a seat at the base of the trunk where he's able to watch
the red and white haired teen. This was their third encounter with one another, though it was the first time he's seen him whilst dressed as a civilian. Midoriya doubts he would even appear on the boy's radar. Right now he's nothing more than another quirkless teen confined in a psych ward. There were plenty of kids like him locked up in places like these, suffering more than he's suffered, struggling more than he is, with uncaring doctors and nurses and parents.
Midoriya studies Todoroki carefully from his spot. The boy looks anxious in a way, like the last place he wants to be is here. Which, in hindsight, is understandable. Izuku doesn't know many people who would willingly want to be in this place.
To the untrained eye there's no blatant sign of the anxiety that Izuku senses. But, Midoriya has surely dealt with his own enough to be able to sense it in the in between moments. The older teen watches the koi pond quietly, hands folded neatly in his lap. Izuku can't see the boy's face, but he can make a good assumption that its wrought with signs of deep thought.
"Shouto?"
Izuku startles at the name, glancing towards the entrance of the courtyard where the voice had come from. Snowy hair that's been streaked with red greets him. The young woman looks nothing like Endeavor, but it's obvious that she's related to the boy in some way, possibly one of his siblings. Todoroki Shouto turns to look at her before standing.
"Fuyumi."
Midoriya is easily overlooked by the woman, but as the two siblings meet in the middle Todoroki's eyes find him effortlessly.
Midoriya is quick to avert his gaze. Todoroki's heterochromatic eyes flicker towards the hospital band around his wrist and Izuku feels a sudden rush of discomfort. Embarrassment and shame mingle uneasily in his stomach.
He plucks at some of the grass beside him.
When the boy's eyes finally leave him he's able to breathe again.
He relaxes somewhat, leaning further back into the tree behind him, letting his eyes fall closed.
Midoriya was used to being ignored.
That's why he knew neither Todoroki nor his sister would look towards him again.
"You're here," Fuyumi says quietly, low, but just loud enough for Izuku to hear.
"Yes."
Midoriya doesn't dare open his eyes. Doing so would feel like an intrusion of some sort. He shouldn't be here. But, leaving would only draw more attention to himself.
"Are you...?" she starts tentatively. "I don't know."
There's a heavy silence that hovers between them before Fuyumi speaks again, ever so softly, "She'd love to see you, Shouto."
Midoriya twitches uncomfortably in his spot.
There's another moment of silence between the two that tells Midoriya all he needs to know about what the other boy thinks about the words. It means he doesn't believe it.
He can feel heterochromatic eyes on him once again but he doesn't dare to even crack his own and catch the teen in the act.
"You don't have to see her if... if you— But you're here and..." she trails off quietly, the hope in her voice losing momentum, "and that's got to count for something, right? Come on," she says gently, almost begging, "Natsuo's here too. You can wait outside the room if you decide you really don't want to see her and then the three of us can all go eat together somewhere afterwards. There's a good soba place nearby, you know?"
The Todoroki boy doesn't say anything more, but Izuku can hear their footsteps start up, moving towards one of the exits. One set sounds more reluctant than the other.
Midoriya cracks his eyes open the moment he hears the door to the courtyard shut. The moment he confirms the two are actually gone he deflates, slouching in his spot with a sigh of relief. He looks up through tree leaves above him, clouds drifting through what small piece of the sky he can see.
April was starting to warm up, but it was still a little too cool in the shade for Izuku to be able to call it comfortable.
"He didn't recognize me, right?" Izuku murmurs as he pushes himself up from the ground, dusting his pants off. He glances towards where he'd heard the two disappear before shaking his head.
He fiddles with the hospital band around his wrist anxiously, not looking at it.
Suddenly feeling like a fraud for being here.
"Was it really a lie though?" the ghost of Reo's voice hisses in his ear. "After what you did? "
His memories of escaping from the USJ are hazy at best, but he doesn't think he'd ever be able to forget the face Reo had made after seeing him in the woods. He'd hid it well given the scenario, but the fear in his eyes had been unmistakable.
" ...people can't live without hurting others. "
Midoriya sighs tiredly, walking towards the small koi pond. He pauses in front of it, watching as a
black koi swims along the surface.
It might be true, but... but I want to avoid it if at all possible, at least for him and mom and— He bites his lip. —and the list goes on for far longer than he had expected it to nowadays. Once upon a time it'd only been his mother.
He has more people to protect now.
The next day Midoriya wakes up with the sun, watching as it paints the sky in brilliant shades of red. The same nurse from yesterday comes to check on him, surprised to see that he's awake already.
He smiles at her, softly, sadly.
He's done a lot of thinking on account of her.
This is his last day of observation. As soon as Inko arrives he'll be leaving. If all goes to plan he will never see any of the people he's met here again, neither Dr. Sui or this unnamed nurse.
"Did you sleep well?"
He only hums in response from his spot by the window, watching as the sun slips through the breaks between towering buildings.
In the end the decision was an easy one.
After all, it's the same option that Bakugou had been trying to shove down his throat for the last eleven years.
How hard could it be to say yes to him for once?