To Love a Soul

by Silent Azure

Eve never wanted to be a hero. That was her friend's dream, not her's. She was content to stay out of sight and out of mind until one night changed all that. She'll have to adapt to survive if she wants to save herself and get her friend back. But what happens to a person who doesn't want to be seen when she's forced into the world of heroes and the watchful eyes of Eraserhead?

25. Chapter 25 - Saying Goodbye

Chapter 25 - Saying Goodbye

I clutched the sheets beneath me, air rushing past my teeth in a whistling inhale. Something akin to liquid ice fell in a great glob against my back, and I swallowed back the bark of pain that came with it.

"Serves you right." Recovery Girl scolded above me as she dropped more of the gel down my spine. "You're lucky that these injuries aren't any worse. What were you thinking, child?! Using acid to remove that device?"

"I-" A new flash of pain tore its way across my bare back as she started to spread the salve, "-did what I had to do." I finished in a hiss.

Recovery Girl sighed deeply, the sound so heavy and resigning as she proceeded to apply a second layer of the cooling gel to my wounds. Though, this time she did so a bit gentler. "I suppose I shouldn't be scolding you too much considering what happened." She said. "But know that I do not approve of these methods. Surely there must have been a better way than dissolving that thing and taking half the skin off your back with it."

"I did what I had to do." I repeated the phrase over again like a broken record.

"Well-" Recovery Girl slapped down a sheet of gauze across my back, making me wince, "this is the best I can do for you." She pressed the sheet further into my tender skin, forcing a muffled groan from my lips. "I won't be able to heal you anymore than this."

I only nodded my head, burying it further into the pillow.

"You're just like that one," She reprimanded sharply, shooting her voice point blank beyond the privacy curtain. The thin, gaunt shadow that lay beyond jerked at the mention. "You both are in the same boat - using up all of your energy." Recovery Girl shook her head in disapproval. "There's nothing left for me to use to heal you with. You'll need to get your strength back and come visit me again."

Visit again? Didn't anyone tell her? The police were coming for me.

There was no possible way of hiding what I did. The very people who I saved were now witnesses to my crimes, to everything that I did. As soon as the police collected the kids' statements, cause they most certainly would, they would know how I got out. How I attacked the villains. How I used my quirk to cause destruction and harm. How I was a criminal worth seizing.

Of course, the kids would not know that they were now the instruments to my fall. All they knew was what they saw. Not the rules that were broken.

And when it came to the teachers, it's not like they could lie. Providing false information to the police was a crime too. No. No matter how I looked at it, the police were most certainly on their way. Which led even more to the mystery of why I was currently lying face down in the nurse's office back at UA and not in the back of a police car.

Recovery Girl patted my arm, directing me to sit up as she brought out several more rolls of gauze from the cart at her side.

Wincing with a stifled groan, I shifted towards the edge of bed, swinging my legs over its sides as my arms wrapped themselves firmly over my breasts, covering the bare skin from view. Recovery Girl tutted at my sudden flushed modesty, but mercifully said nothing as she started to work the rolls of bandages around my waist.

Keeping my hands tucked tightly over the mounds, I half watched as the older woman wound the bandages further up. Mina's acid had done more than just dissolve my back and collar. My clothes had also suffered greatly. The shirt that I had worn from Midnight's collection along with my own bra had been eaten beyond any hope of repair, barely hanging on by threads by the time I had been ushered into the nurse's office. Now they were completely destroyed, sheared off and discarded in the nearest wastebasket.

I shivered in the open air, feeling more exposed than I ever wanted to be in the presence of others. Yet, the wrinkled, worn hands that moved about my waist were small but deft, swiftly working the bandages higher to enshroud me. They reached the crest of my ribcage in short order and I was reluctantly forced to move my hands away. Blood flooded my face as Recovery Girl wrestled my breasts into submission, the bandages swallowing down the two troublesome mounds in a makeshift corset. Not exactly the protection or support I was looking for as every breath I took now felt like I had dawned a medieval piece of female confinement, but at least I was no longer on full display for everyone to see.

Tentatively, my hands dropped away to the sheets beneath me, gripping them between my fingers as Recovery Girl snaked the gauze further up and around my shoulders, climbing my neck before gently lifting the collar out of the way to finish tying the bandages off there. She leaned back, a look of satisfaction marking her face as she inspected her work before letting the collar fall back into place.

I felt the weight of the metal cord drop, even with the bandages swaddling my neck, and tried to swallow, feeling the hard roll of my throat encounter and struggle against the new tightness there. With effort I forced it down and past, noting that I had to take in smaller breaths or risk aggravating my wounds. But it was a small price to pay. In the grand scheme of things it could have been a lot worse. There was no nerve damage as far as I could tell, and the pain had ebbed significantly thanks to the elderly Hero's ministrations. And for that I was thankful.

With her job now complete, Recovery Girl took a little hop off the stool by the bed and turned, pulling out one of the school's hospital gowns from the cart of supplies.

"Here. Put this on." She said, handing over the bundle of cloth.

I didn't hesitate, eagerly accepting and shrugging on the thin blue garment as the sound of metal sliding across metal filled the tiny office, the privacy curtain opening back up.

The rest of the infirmary came into view, and with it All Might. Occupying the only other bed beside my own, the Hero lay bandaged and mummified much like me, his bare feet sticking awkwardly over the far edge. Gone was the chiseled, muscled form that I had seen battling the villains. What lay before me now was a man reduced to nothing more than a haggard skeleton.

With the draw of the curtain and Recovery Girl well on her way back to her desk, that skeleton stirred, lifting himself up with a soft groan to turn towards me. Blue irises met mine, swimming in concern.

"How are you feeling now?" All Might spoke softly. "Any better?"

My eyes dropped away to the speckled floor as I nodded once, shifting away to the window behind me while pulling the gown closer together. I could feel his gaze roam, finding the bandages peaking up past the upper hem of the gown and lingering on my neck. On where the new collar now lay.

I tugged the gown higher against his stare, shielding my neck from view with the help of my hair before fixing my gaze to the pane of glass. Beyond the large window the skies were burning in shades of red and orange, the distant sea shimmering in the waning light. The day was coming to a fast end. Night would soon be here.

It had been hours since I had arrived in this office. Hours. And in all that time I had been anxiously waiting.

Yet, neither the police or the HPSC had come.

It wasn't that I wanted to be taken, but more of the fact of waiting that I could not stand. My nerves were a tumbled mess, and every second, every minute that stretched on, my anxiety only grew. The pain that once flared across my back had been a convenient distraction, but now that whatever Recovery Girl had applied to my skin was working to soothe down the acid fires, my mind had begun to set itself on other horrors.

I needed to think so I could prepare. Prepare so I could plan. But it seemed that even thoughts took too much effort to form. Feelings, though, those needed no effort for me to sense.

I was raw and open to everything around me thanks to my jittering apprehension - open enough to feel All Might's cerulean eyes leave me as a tumble of emotions rolled out of him. I felt the thoughts, the thinking, the tension - the guilt. It didn't take much to figure out what was going through his head. All Might cared too much. But this wasn't his fault.

It was mine.

Him. Me. Everything. Everything was my fault.

I was willing to let him die while I watched on. I was the one who'd driven him to a state where he had to use every single last bit of his power to survive, to win. A power I could have saved if I had acted faster, taken care of things when I could have. It was because of me that he now sat here, wounded and weakened. Perhaps that was the greatest of all my crimes - weakening the Symbol of Peace.

I bit down painfully on the inside of my cheek, almost drawing blood.

All Might lifted his head again, and I could feel those shadowed eyes on the side of my face.

"I'm sorry that I didn't notice sooner," All Might murmured, "that you were in pain. When Thirteen told me that you had broken out from your collar," he paused on the word, a distaste lining his mouth, "I didn't realize what that truly meant. What you had to do to get it off so you could protect the students and Thirteen at the time. And then, when I found you, I scolded you."

I heard the soft ruffle of the sheets and I turned just enough to see All Might's hands clenching the white fabric in frustration. He bowed his head low, the sheets curling further into his fists.

"Please forgive me."

I stiffened. This wasn't right. What did he have to apologize to me for? A few simple words? Those were nothing - nothing compared to what I had to apologize for. But he would never know.

Gingerly I turned back to face him, seeing those bright blue irises shining like tiny flames in the black. I lowered my gaze, finding myself unable to stare into those lights for any longer than a second. Too afraid in case he could see the guilt ridden thoughts hidden in mine.

"There's nothing to forgive - not for something I did to myself." I said slowly. "You didn't notice anything because there was nothing. I didn't even know how bad my injuries were until I returned to my body. Usually I can feel whatever my body is feeling when I'm out of it, but for some strange reason I couldn't this time." I stared down at my hands, flexing them a bit as a frown formed on my lips. It was a mystery I had yet to analyze.

"You were probably suppressing the pain subconsciously - going beyond your limits." All Might suggested, a touch of familiarity in his tone.

"Those limits are there for a very good reason." Recovery Girl interjected loudly from her desk. "They're there so you don't wreck your body any more than it can handle." She gave All Might a pointed look, and he had the decency to look thoroughly chastised as he turned about, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly.

I glanced between them curiously, picking up on a long, unspoken history between the Hero and nurse.

"Still," All Might turned back to me, "I need to apologize. Because I wasn't there to begin with, you, Thirteen, and Aizawa were forced to handle things on your own. You're in this whole mess because of me."

This whole mess. Yes, indeed this was a mess to be sure, but I had also thrown myself willingly into it, muddying it further. But with the mention of Aizawa's name, all other thoughts were forced to the back of my mind. The image of him lying there on the ground, surrounded by his fellow teachers as they poured over him - it was the last memory I had of him before I was spirited away and back onto UA's main campus. The mental image twisted my stomach, causing my heart to pound erratically in worry. Where was he now? Was he being taken care of? Would he be alright?

Even if he was still unconscious, perhaps a memory of a goodbye would have been better after all. Some sort of closure. An end.

A light rapping came from the infirmary door before it slid open, a tall, dark haired man entering.

Immediately I stilled. There was no mistaking that aura - stone-faced and stiff-backed, unyielding and unforgiving as the law. Government.

It was time. They had come.

"Excuse me." The man announced himself, removing his hat and offering a surprisingly warm smile. "Hi, All Might. Been a while."

All Might lurched forward, blood spewing from his mouth. "What the hell?!" He shouted. "I didn't know that you were investigating."

The man's smile widened as he closed the door and walked inside. He took only a step and that smile faltered, dark steadfast eyes landing on my frame silhouetted by the burning sky outside. His stare absorbed the entirety of me, sweeping over every inch and curve with cold calculation.

I knew that stare. Felt the wary caution. Felt his tension. As if I was a serpent readying to strike at a moment's notice.

As if I was the most dangerous thing in this room. As if -

I was a villain.

The stare hovered a moment more before narrowing in on the black metal around my neck, a single dark ring against the white bandages, and I saw him relax. Slightly.

All Might wiped the blood from his mouth, noticing the man's sudden interest on me but somehow not the chill that had descended in the room. "Oh, right," He spoke up excitedly, "I suppose introductions are in order. Eve," he turned towards me, smiling brightly, "this is Naomasa Tsukauchi, my best friend on the police force. He's-" He suddenly stopped, noticing me frozen, my hands clenching the bed beneath me with enough force that my knuckles had gone white.

"Ah." His shadowed eyes widened, the pieces clicking into place. All Might quickly shifted back to Tsukauchi, all pleasantries vanishing. "Are you here to-"

"No." Tsukauchi shook his head. "Not yet."

Yet?

My attention snapped at the word and I studied the officer a little harder. He had a pleasant enough face with soft rounded eyes that I could see assuaging the general public and little old grannies, but it was his large beige overcoat that I couldn't see past. The thing swallowed up the larger part of his body, hiding it and - I had every reason to believe - weapons from view. It was tactical, purposefully chosen, not revealing anything about his physique or to the weapons he carried. A regular cop would have his tools of the trade on display, so the fact that this Tsukauchi didn't told me at least one thing:

Tsukauchi was no ordinary police officer.

Tsukauchi sensed me scrutinizing him, and turned his darkened eyes back upon me. The coldness hadn't gone anywhere, but there was something new in them that looked vaguely like guarded concern.

All Might. Friend. Secrets.

Weakness.

Fuck. We were all in the same room and All Might was not in his powered-form. Tsukauchi had in fact recognized All Might immediately upon entering despite All Might being a scarecrow. He knew. He was yet another person All Might had shared his secret with - a secret I knew too.

And that was a dangerous thing for a criminal like me to know. No wonder why Tsukauchi was looking at me as if he was judging a potential threat.

All Might cleared his throat, wryly recapturing Tsukauchi's attention. "So then you're here to-"

"Get your statement." Tsukauchi finished, the smile popping back into place a little too quickly as he stopped by the edge of All Might's bed. "We could really use any information you might have."

"Hold on. Before all that." All Might quickly raised his hands. "Tell me all the students are okay. And Aizawa - er, Eraserhead."

My heart skipped, my limbs going still as I waited for an answer.

Tsukauchi noted the change and lifted his brows a fraction, a small, gauging thought flying behind his expression before he spoke.

"Not counting the boy who's currently hiding out in the hall, the only student injuries were scrapes." Tsukauchi replied, returning his focus back down to All Might.

Recovery Girl clicked her tongue in disapproval. "I told that boy to go home and get some rest. I healed his hand hours ago, but still he sticks around." She spun heatedly in her chair back to her desk, shuffling the papers about on it as if they had angered her grievously.

Discreetly, I slid my eyes to the room's far corner, piercing beyond its walls and sure enough finding Midoriya loitering outside. He was standing halfway down the corridor, his attention fixated on this room as colors of worry swirled about in his soul.

He, like All Might and I, had been whisked back here to Recovery Girl's office. In fact we had all been shoved into the same vehicle and driven back at top speeds. The trip had been, to say the least, one of awkwardness and discovery.

It was no secret now. Midoriya definitely knew about All Might's condition, and now he knew that I knew as well. And considering All Might did not try to hide his emaciated form from Midoriya in the car like he had tried with me days ago, I could only assume that he had included Midoriya in on his secret. The only questions now were why and when?

Honestly it was none of my business when or why they knew each other like good old acquaintances. It did explain, though, why Midoriya had been so concerned about All Might during the entire incident, and why he was so concerned now.

When we had arrived, Midoriya had been the first person Recovery Girl had healed before he was promptly booted from the room and told to go home. His concern, almost bordering on obsession for All Might, was what was keeping him here. He wanted to know if the Hero was alright, to see it for himself.

I could hardly blame him. He was like me, but my concern was for another.

With that thought Midoriya's soul faded from my sight as the room and its four solid walls swam back into view. Refocusing my attention back on the policeman, I lowered my gaze to a single point - a tan button on his coat that had been sewn on with mismatching threads. For a man so meticulous, it stuck out to me, but quickly I put it aside, opening my ears back to the conversation.

"And as for Eraserhead," Tsukauchi's voice filtered back in, "he's in stable condition right now. You can relax."

Together All Might and I released a heavy, relieved sigh, the tension leaving our bodies all at once.

"That's good to hear." All Might breathed with a small smile as he turned to look back at me.

My face betrayed me and I couldn't help but return the smile. Aizawa was going to be alright.

The kids were fine. Aizawa would be fine. Everything was fine.

The door to the infirmary slammed open with a bang.

"Eve!"

I jumped, my heart sputtering out in my chest as Tsukauchi and All Might turned towards the newcomer.

There in the doorway, braced between it, was Mic. His breathing was ragged, his chest heaving down great gulps of air as if he had run all the way here. He was completely soaked, water dripping off of his black leathers and down the bridge of his nose onto the floor below to create a puddle where he stood. Sunset glasses threatened to slip off his face as vivid green eyes traveled around the room wildly, searching, searching. Until they landed on me.

Mic took a step into the room. A step towards me.

"Don't you know how to knock?" Recovery Girl snapped, her syringe cane whacking hard into Mic's legs.

Mic jerked at the attack, the daze clearing from his eyes as he looked to his left, finding Recovery Girl scowling up at him fiercely.

"Whoops. My bad." He offered an apologetic smile down to the tiny woman.

Recovery Girl continued to leer as Mic straightened back up and turned away. The chastened smile fell a fraction as those searching eyes found me again before they dropped further to the trembling hands clutching at my chest. Thought and emotion flashed behind his face too fast for me to understand before he slid further inside, his attention swiftly moving to the two men.

Behind him the door stayed open to reveal the hall beyond. At least there would be no more surprises should the police end up arriving. I would be able to hear them coming before I even saw them. It was my only consolation as I worked on getting my heart beating again.

Mic held up a hand in greeting, water dripping down his arm and leaving a trail as he went. "Yo! All Might! How ya feelin'? Ah, Mr. Tsukauchi - just the man I was looking for." He came to a stop by Tsukauchi's side, a wide, easy grin spreading across his lips that was so at odds with his previous, sudden entrance.

"You're looking for me?" Tsukauchi repeated, his brows knitting tightly in worry. "Did something happen at the USJ?"

"Nah. Nothing like that." Mic waved away Tsukauchi's concern. "I just came from there and the police are still combing over the place for evidence. They seemed to have everything in hand so I was going to make my way over to the hospital now to see Eraser, but wanted to stop by here first."

"I see." Tsukauchi relaxed. "As I was just telling All Might and…Ms. Eve," He hesitated on my name, as if he didn't know how to address me, "Eraserhead is in stable condition. He's expected to pull through."

"I got the update from the doc too." Mic said. "But that's not why I'm here. I want to take Eve with me to go see Aizawa. Principal Nezu already gave the green light on his end, and I just need yours as the Commission's temp-on-site-rep since Aizawa is currently down."

I froze, replaying the words in my mind. Was it possible? Could I - could I go?

"You want to take her out?" Tsukauchi repeated in similar disbelief. "Outside of the school's boundaries?" His attention turned sharply on the Hero as if Mic was insane for even asking.

"Just to the hospital Aizawa's at and back." Mic assured him with a grin.

Tsukauchi frowned, his expression hardening. "Absolutely not. She's currently under investigation. Even if no orders have come in for her arrest, I can't just let you-"

"It'll be fine, Tsukauchi." All Might interrupted. "Please allow Present Mic to take Eve. She deserves it after everything she's done. You've had a chance to talk to the students, right? You must know by now that without her things could have been a lot worse. She saved Aizawa's life as well as many of the students. Let her go and see him. Please."

My head swiveled to All Might so fast that the room spun dangerously for a moment. The tone he had used could only be described as imploring. Soft. Passionate even. Far too passionate with a dash of forlornness thrown in. Why? Why was he so insistent for me to reunite with Aizawa? He was making it sound like he believed Aizawa and I were - oh.

The rush of memories from hours past bubbled into my mind unbidden, every scene that held Aizawa in them that All Might bore witness to. But this time from All Might's perspective. In them I saw a girl, a girl clutching onto Aizawa's bleeding form desperately, protectively - even as she offered him up to the Hero to take, it was clear that she did not want to let him go. Could not let him go.

I killed the visions as heat rushed to my face. Shifting away to the opposite blank wall, I forced my mind to focus on anything else but the insinuation of All Might's tone. Tsukauchi's voice striking sharply back was just the ticket.

"You know full well it's because of the things she's done that I can't let her go." Tsukauchi retorted as he pinched the bridge of his brow in aggravation. "She broke her collar off, All Might. Made another student do it, and then proceeded to go on a wild rampage. I still have villains unconscious because of her."

Inwardly, I grimaced.

"That's a bit harsh." Mic muttered, the lines of his lips curling down into a frown. "It was less of a wild rampage and more of putting the villains down for beddy-bye time. I would know since it was me who found them all taking a nap in the Squall Zone." He said, lifting a sopping wet arm and shaking it out, sending water splattering to the floor much to Recovery Girl's displeasure. "But you want to know what I also found?" He turned to Tsukauchi, waving his hand in the air. "No dead kids. So what if you've got a few sleeping villains? They're not hurt. They'll wake up eventually - right?" Mic's gaze suddenly slid to me.

I nodded quickly, keeping my gaze trained on the unassuming wall.

"See?" He gestured at me. "There you have it. No harm, no foul."

"Yes foul." Tsukauchi argued back. Immediately he pulled a face, hearing his own tone, the less than professional words, and quickly coughed into his hand before deepening his voice back to that flat, no-nonsense lilt. "Acting without a license is still an offense." He rephrased, pinning his gaze on Mic and All Might each in turn. "She's dangerous - something you Heroes seem to be forgetting. She stays right here until-"

"Tsukauchi," All Might spoke suddenly, his voice reminiscent to a distant roll of thunder. I turned at the sound as the officer paused, hardened eyes widening in slight surprise.

All Might sat straighter, his head rising to stare up at the man at his side. "I can assure you that Eve is not the criminal that they're making her out to be." He said firmly. "You have my word on that."

Tsukauchi's mouth opened and closed as he stared back, meeting All Might's unflinching blue irises. Something twisted under that hardened, stern face, a crack breaking in its foundation. It took me a moment to understand what it was - admiration. Admiration for his friend, for the Number One Hero, for the Symbol of Peace, but that reverence was clashing against something equally powerful - commitment. Tsukauchi's need to keep a criminal like me contained.

I watched warily as the two forces fought for dominance, watching as that crack of admiration began to close.

All Might's face softened a fraction, his voice a desperate plea. "Please, Tsukauchi."

Tsukauchi closed his eyes, releasing a long defeated sigh.

"You trust far too easily, All Might." He breathed, shaking his head and opening his eyes back to the Hero. Despite the words spoken, their tone was far from disparaging.

Black pupils cut to me then, or more accurately to the metal encased around my neck. Tsukauchi sighed again, a weariness sinking deep before he dragged his gaze over to Mic under heavy lids. "You got a remote?" He asked.

"Got it right here." Mic's right hand disappeared inside a pocket at his waist and quickly withdrew, holding up a red metallic remote for Tsukauchi to see.

Red. Not silver.

Aizawa's had been silver.

My mind floundered before it painfully started to turn, creaking along like a rusty waterwheel. Of course a new collar came with a new remote. How could it not? There was no point of having a collar if there was no way to dull out punishment - electric shock and all.

But then another thought struck. Tsukauchi had said a remote, not the remote.

There was more than one.

The realization barely cemented before Tsukauchi spoke to no one in particular, "She's not going to run, is she?"

The change in the room was swift and striking, a cold seeping in that sent goosebumps skittering over my exposed arms. My senses were ringing out in warning, searching for the nameless danger that had entered before they descended wholly on Mic.

Every fiber of the Hero's being had gone rigid, tension bracketing his mouth as his amber tinted glasses turned strangely opaque. The skin between his brows creased and a breath entered him, filling his chest and drawing him up to his full height. A height, I noticed, that exceeded Tsukauchi's own tall frame.

"Eve and I are going to see a friend," Mic stated slowly, carefully. "A friend who would not be alive right now if Eve had chosen to up and split when she had the chance. I think that speaks enough about her proclivity for running, don't you?"

Tsukauchi's attention narrowed on Mic, hearing the quiet snarl hiding just beneath the surface of the Hero's voice. As to why it was there, I hadn't a clue. Tsukauchi, for all of his concerns, his question was warranted. Mic had to see that. I was captured and a criminal - it made sense to what I would do next if given the chance.

A hollow quiet settled like a thick blanket of snow as Tsukauchi continued to stare at Mic, as if weighing out the value of the Hero's words against all he knew, all he believed me to be. His black eyes danced from the remote still in Mic's hands to my collar and back again to the Hero. In those calculating orbs I could see the gears of his mind whirring, sizing up all the potential risks against the Hero's known power.

Whatever conclusion he came to it must have been not enough as he whipped out his phone, his fingers tapping out across the screen.

"I'll assign three squad cars to act as your escort and backup."

Mic's lips twitched. "Say what?"

Tsukauchi continued to type away, sparing Mic only a glance. "I meant no offense. The officers will need to be at the hospital anyways to take Eraserhead's statement when he wakes up. This is just an insurance policy in case anything goes wrong. The Safety Commission will have my badge if they find out I authorized her outing with only one Hero acting as a guard after what happened today at the USJ."

"I think I got this, yo." Mic stated, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm sure I would be able to handle it if anything were to go down."

"And in the event something does go down, you'll have the full support of the police force right there with you." Tsukauchi said in a tone that left no room for debate. "Just keep her away from any corrosive substances, please." He finished typing out his message, tucking the phone back into his pocket before looking at me sharply. "You there!"

I jerked upright, tensing.

"Y-yes?" I replied, finding my voice.

Tsukauchi stared hard into my face. "Don't give me any reason to regret this. I don't know why these Heroes have put so much faith into you, but make sure that faith isn't misplaced. Are we clear?"

"Yes, sir."

Those stern eyes became steel once more, searing into me like a brand as if they were searching for something. I didn't dare blink, frozen in his gaze until he finally relented, looking away. "Then you can go."

All Might bowed his head. "Thank you, Tsukauchi."

"Yah. Thanks, man." Mic chipped out, his body tense. But then he turned towards me, his gaze softening as he unfurled his arms and inclined his head towards the open door. "Come on, Eve. Let's go."

With Tsukauchi eying every movement, I slipped off the bed, my own weight crashing onto my feet as I steadied - and steadied fast. Exhaustion would not be the thing to keep me from Aizawa. Once I was sure that I would not fall flat on my face with the first step, I followed after Mic, passing by Tsukauchi quickly before offering a sincere bow in the doorway to the remaining two occupants. Tsukauchi and I would never see eye to eye, but Recovery Girl and All Might - I didn't know when I would see them again - if I would see them again.

Mic waited for me beyond the door, closing it securely behind me when I finally stepped out. The nurse's office vanished and we were suddenly alone.

"This way." He motioned, his voice sounding oddly distant.

I nodded and followed as Mic led me down the eerily silent, darkening hallway - the direction opposite to where I knew Midoriya was hiding. I had half a mind to turn around to see if I could find the teen, to flash him some sort of sign that All Might was okay. But I doubted that would be enough. Sometimes what a person needed the most was to see the proof with their own two eyes. After all, that's why I was out here too - to see the proof with my own two eyes that Aizawa would be okay.

So I didn't turn, didn't stop, keeping my gaze trained on the hall ahead.

Streams of warm gold sunlight filtered through the large floor to ceiling windows on our right, slowly slipping down the doors of the empty classrooms that lay on the other side. The dying light swept over my body in a gentle caress, but I scarcely noticed. Each of Mic's strides were long and hurried, forcing me to keep a frantic pace beside him with my shorter stature.

Out of the corner of my eye I caught a flash of red before it disappeared out of sight, Mic's hands roughly shoving into the pockets of his pants. My collar's remote, I realized.

"I got here as soon as I could." Mic spoke softly, his voice rising in that empty hall and drawing my attention away.

My gaze flicked up to his face as our footsteps echoed against the hard tile. In that moment a few strands of flaxen hair shook loose and slipped past the band of his headphones, falling in front of his eyes. With a hand he reached up, absentmindedly slicking them back into place even as water continued to drip down the sides of his face, trailing down to disappear underneath the speakers around his neck.

"When I heard Tsukauchi had left and was on his way here," Mic continued, face set firmly on the hall before us as that hand buried back into his pocket, "I wondered what you would think if you thought he was here for you. If no one was…here with you. Didn't want you to feel alone in case things changed." In case the order for my arrest came in.

Something inside of me cracked just a little bit. At the sheer kindness.

But for some reason I said instead, "Recovery Girl took care of me and All Might was here too. I wasn't alone."

Mic's pupils darted down to their far corners, landing on the front vee portion of my shift and the exposed bandages there.

"Recovery Girl wasn't able to fix you up?"

I shook my head, the movement causing a small stab of pain to sweep across my expression as the skin pulled under the bindings. "No energy left for her to use." I explained. "Used up everything I had back at the USJ. Doubt I could use my quirk even if I wanted to." I let out a rough laugh. "Probably would pass out if I tried."

No doubt Tsukauchi would prefer that actually - a load off his mind if I keeled over right now. An unconscious villain, after all, could not run.

Mic's stare shifted, observing the ashen color of my face, my sluggish but determined movements as I tried to match each of his strides. I was tired, but I could keep going. I had to keep going.

Suddenly he slowed his pace to a crawl and I shot him by.

I slowed down, peering back in confusion. Mic didn't look at me, choosing someplace between me and the floor as he came to a full stop.

"I can carry you."

I wheeled, stumbling as my heart did a weird little lurch.

Did I mishear that? For a moment I could have sworn that Mic had offered to -

"If you feel like you can't make it," he said, lifting his face to meet mine as I steadied myself, "I can carry you."

No. There was definitely no mistaking that. Nor was there mistaking the look on his face.

The smile that had so frequently graced his cheerful face was gone. Concentric apple-green irises stared back, now subdued and so vulnerable. But underneath that they were also weary and full of worry. Some of it I recognized was for me, but most of it had to be for Aizawa. His friend. His gravely injured friend. That's what I had to be reading in his eyes. With no one else around, the mask was finally off and his true feelings were coming through. Mic was only offering to carry me so we could reach Aizawa faster.

That's the explanation I fed myself as a small smile raised itself on my lips.

"No, I'm okay. I promise. I can make it." I murmured back. The truth.

He studied me carefully, his head tipping down to peer at me over his orange tinted shades. "You sure?"

"I am. Thank you, though." I turned back to the empty hall.

Mic was a Hero - yes, and I knew that fact came with certain physical requirements. But I was by no means lightweight and the mere thought of being carried again sent strange shivers rolling through my body. To be touched. Held.

It occurred to me then that of all the ways to be carried, which one had been on Mic's mind?

I shook myself of the thought before I dove down that dangerous rabbit hole. As long as I could walk, there would be no more carrying today. I had my dignity even if I had nothing else left. Plus, it wasn't like my twinging back would even entertain any form of contact right now.

But as I returned to the far stretching hall I felt the sway of my own body, the slight shift to my balance threatening to tip, the heaviness of my own limbs. All signs of exhaustion creeping in. Perhaps -

I half twisted back, finding Mic still standing there, eyes staring unseeing at some part of me.

"But-" virescent eyes snapped up to meet mine, "-if it looks like I'm going to pass out, could I ask you to catch me?" I asked, softly rubbing the bandage on my forehead. "I kinda hit my head once already today and I would really like to not do that again."

The corners of Mic's mouth quipped up as something slipped back over his face. He straightened.

"Like you even need to ask." He grinned at me, taking a step forward.

He reached my side in less than two strides, staring down at me like I had always known him - bright, cheerful, full of life.

"Let's go see Aizawa. Yeah?" He said, eyes glittering in the warm light.

I nodded with a half smile.

"Lead the way."

---

We reached the hospital in record time. Whether it was due to Mic's fast driving, or the police escort clearing the way, I didn't know, probably a combination of both, but we had arrived at the hospital just as the sun's last rays were diving below the horizon.

Once Mic parked the car - a sleek, roaring antique mustang - we headed inside, the customary hermetic hiss of the hospital's glass doors opening and closing behind us. The place was brightly lit with few people waiting idly in the lobby, their low murmurs and passive chatter barely rising above a single octave. Soft tranquil colors decorated the high walls, giving the space a welcoming presence while a few large, leafy plants were placed strategically about. No doubt in effort to give the occupants some connection to the outside world during their stay while also providing a peaceful atmosphere.

As if this place was anything but peaceful.

I hung back as Mic approached the front desk, confirming Aizawa's room number with a friendly smile at the receptionist. The woman's face flushed to a shade of pink as she returned the smile, perhaps a little too enthusiastically, seemingly star-struck to be in the Hero's presence.

Behind me I heard the large sliding doors open and close again with a soft whir, and turned around, seeing our promised police escort enter as a single unit. There were six of them in all, drawing immediate attention from everyone as they entered. Perhaps it was the heightened alert expressions they wore, or the fact that they were standing awkwardly about, but they successfully took an already quiet space to a whole new level of silence with their arrival.

Their collective gazes quickly scanned the lobby, honing first on Mic's turned back before skipping the short distance over to me. I held their gazes for a moment and spun around, dismissing them. Two officers would have been fine. Six was just plain overkill. A waste of resources when surely they had better things to do.

It was only a moment more when Mic wrapped up his conversation with the overly friendly receptionist and returned to me.

"Got Aizawa's room number." He stated quickly, sparing our newly arrived entourage a momentary glance and added, "They currently have him over in the intensive care ward. It's this way."

He swept out a long arm and he ushered me in front of him with a light touch down one of the halls that fed off from the lobby. He was careful not to put too much pressure on my back, ever mindful of the bandages that covered my torso and neck. I doubted though I would have felt anything even if he had pressed harder. I was suddenly much more aware of everything external than internal.

A violent shiver crashed over me the moment we stepped beyond the double doors that marked the divide between the lobby and the ICU. There was no distinctive change between the two spaces. The colors of the walls were still the same soft hue, but somehow, as the double doors swished shut behind us, everything became more ashen - more grim. Hollowed muteness swallowed the long hall in a bleak emptiness that no sound would ever chase away. There was so much pain here, so much suffering. So much death.

I swallowed hard, and clutched myself, not daring to let my eyes flash and reveal what I already knew in my soul was there.

Mic glanced at me. "You cold?"

I shook my head and trudged forwards, past him. Even if I told Mic what I was feeling, what I was sensing, there was nothing he could do about it. This was something he was simply better off not knowing.

People didn't generally respond well when they found out about the existence of my namesake.

Mic's gaze sharpened for a moment before he fell in step beside me. A beat of silence passed. "I hate hospitals too." He murmured. "Never a good time when you have to visit one."

The corner of my mouth kicked upwards just as the swinging doors swished open again behind us. The sound of six pairs of tactical soles hitting the hard tile floor was enough of an indicator to know who they were, but even so I tilted my head, looking back. Hard, stern faces met my gaze, the dark glint of their weapons and badges catching the fluorescent lights sharply. The officers shifted, tensing as they noticed me watching them. More than a few quickly glanced to Present Mic for direction - for reassurance. They were, after all, only there as back up.

"Mr. Tsukauchi went way overboard on this one." Mic ground out bitterly, feeling the nervous energy of the police poised on his back. He didn't bother to turn around even to ease the six men's fears with a smile or a calm word. Their presence stalking behind us was, I could only assume in his mind, a nuisance - unnecessary. An insult.

Mic's irked expression faded as he tilted his head towards me. "Sorry about them and what happened back there…at the school. Mr. Tsukauchi, he's -" Mic's gaze trailed away as he thought, "he's a good guy and a good cop. One of the best, but-" his mouth firmed into a hard line, "he's kinda one-note when it comes to justice, if ya catch my drift."

My head snapped in his direction, wondering if Mic should be saying such things aloud, especially if everything that was said and seen here would undoubtedly be drawn up in a report for said officer to read through later. The police force had more authority than any single Hero. If they wanted to they could blacklist any Hero who voiced their opinions a little too loudly. Like what Mic was presently doing.

I rushed to placate the air, hoping the police would mark it.

"It's okay." I replied. I tugged my arms harder around my body as a cold wind brushed by my side. "At least he allowed me to come here."

Mic straightened, frowning a bit. "Sure, but he didn't have to talk about you like some dangerous animal after everything you did."

Okay. Seemed like Mic did want his opinion to be on public record.

I sighed in defeat. "I think he's more concerned that if I could escape once, then I could do it again."

"But you didn't escape. You didn't go anywhere. What you did was extreme, but it was a matter of life and death for both you and everyone else. And because of what you did, lives were saved. Principal Nezu's working on explaining that to the folks over at the Commission right now."

My mind perked up at the info.

So that's what Nezu was doing. Would also further explain why my arrest had yet to happen if he was currently occupying their attention. But what power did one high school principal have against the authority of the Commission?

I didn't have an answer to that - just like the multitude of other things that were slowly creeping up to the surface tonight. Like the existence of multiple remotes I was beginning to suspect that existed long before now. Or Mic's strangely protective behavior when Tsukauchi had asked a reasonable question. Or Nezu's priority to defend me when there were much more important matters to attend to right now.

It was too much. Too much thinking. Too much searching for answers. Soon my head was pounding trying to make sense of it all as a wave of exhaustion crashed into my limbs.

I wobbled, unsteady and dizzy, a hand whipping out for the nearest wall.

Something long snapped around my waist, a pair of shoulders distinctly not my own diving under my other arm and hoisting me up before I could fall.

"Hey. I got you." Mic's voice was a soft pant, his breath whispering over the shell of my ear.

In the spinning storm of my mind I could feel him beside me, the length of his body pressing into my side and setting every sense ablaze. His body heat immediately enveloped me, reminding me of warm, sunny days, and chasing the chill of the hall away. I wanted more, to curl up into that warmth and just rest. But it seems I was to be denied even that.

Pain reared its ugly head, clawing its way across my back in a searing reminder of where Mic's arm was now stretched. I latched onto the agony, allowing it to ground me and bring me back to my senses as I gathered my feet under me once more.

I tilted my head to the side, heart hammering more than was probably considered okay as I nodded in a wince to Mic. "Thanks."

Despite my earlier rejection, he kept his promise. He didn't let me fall.

"Anytime." Mic smiled. "But," the smile faltered as I disengaged from his side, "are you sure you want to go on? You don't look so hot there, Ghosty. We could head back and try-"

"No." I said almost too quickly. I twisted to Mic, ignoring the blatant stares of our entourage who lingered behind. "We've come this far and I-" I dropped my gaze to the polished floor, speaking quietly, "I would like to see Aizawa." To say goodbye.

Going back to UA now would only sound out the final end as I sat and waited in the dark and empty school for the Commission to finally claim me. Despite Mic's and everyone's inherent beliefs that things would turn out for the best, I had to plan for the worst. It was my head on the chopping block. Not theirs.

And as for the other matter - if I was going to collapse, what better place than at a hospital?

"Alright."

My gaze flicked up as Mic's fingerless gloved hand landed lightly on my shoulder. He stepped up, his expression unreadable before he bobbed his chin to the corridor at my back. "Aizawa isn't too far now. Just up ahead."

I had nothing else to say so we moved, walking down the seemingly endless cold hall. Door after door we passed, some with names of the occupants inside, some without. But the ones with names scrawled on the placards by their sides far outweighed those without. How many of those names were Heroes? How many were innocents whose only misfortune was to be caught up in a villain's rampage?

Their pain and suffering, past and present, continued to permeate the air, kissing my senses in a chill like a dreary mist. I focused instead on putting one foot in front of another, promising myself that each step was taking me someplace I wanted to be.

Up ahead a door slid open, allowing the tall figure of a man to step out into the hall. His white coat swished about his legs as he turned, closing the door behind him. Under the flowing white I saw the hospital's identifying pale blue surgical scrubs.

"That's Aizawa's room." Mic murmured.

Sure enough, my eyes found the placard jutting out by the door, reading the name there.

The doctor took no notice of us and turned, plodding away further down the hall.

Mic suddenly called out, catching the doctor's attention. "What's the word, doc? How's he doing?"

The man paused and twisted back languidly at the sound, dark shadowed eyes roving over us as Mic and I hurried to a stop in front of him. "And you are?" He inquired.

"Present Mic. We spoke on the phone earlier about Aizawa." Mic said, lifting a hand in greeting.

A brief look of recognition crossed the man's face before it dissolved back into dull listlessness.

"Ah, the concerned friend."

Bleary eyes under a tangled mess of darkened curls drifted then in my direction, sweeping over my own blue shift and the bandages surrounding me up to my chin. It occurred to me then that I must have looked like one of the hospital's patients, but considering I was up and walking and not bleeding out before him, the worn weary doctor decidedly moved onto the six officers clustered awkwardly behind us, taking all of us in.

We were undoubtedly a strange sight in that hallway, worthy of some sort of interest or comment, but the man showed not the slightest bit of curiosity. In a hall filled with the gravely injured, I got the impression that we were not the most pressing, or the most diverting thing for him to ponder over.

The doctor returned his gaze to Mic and drew a sigh. "I just checked on him, and Eraserhead is still unconscious at the moment. His injuries were severe, but we've managed to set his broken arms and take care of his multiple skull fractures. Considering the blunt force trauma he sustained to his head, we won't know the extent of the damage in regards to his eyes or quirk until he wakes up. Beyond that he needed a skin graft for his right elbow, which took with no issue. He also has some internal bruising along his upper torso, but with proper rest and rehabilitation he's expected to make a full recovery. You can go in and see him, but I can't promise that you'll be able to hold a conversation."

"That's fine. We just needed to be here for him, you know?" Mic replied.

The doctor's gaze flashed briefly towards me at the we. "I see." He muttered. Another heavy sigh left his lips. "Just keep your visit down so you don't disturb my other patients. Press the button above the headboard if he does wake up or if it looks like he needs more pain meds. A nurse or me will come by to help. Now, if you'll excuse me…" He began to turn away.

Mic clapped him on his shoulder before he could get too far. "Thanks for everything, doc. I mean it. I owe you one."

The man only nodded, shuffling off and down the corridor before disappearing into another room.

Mic let out a low breath, eying the space the doctor had vanished to. "Sheesh. That is one person in desperate need of a vacation."

Whether or not I agreed with that sentiment, it didn't matter. My hand was already reaching for the handle on the door, pulling it aside. It was half way open when I finally saw the figure on the bed.

I didn't know what I honestly expected to find. I had heard every injury as the doctor listed them off, both the known and unknown, but seeing Aizawa lying there motionless on the bed with tubes and wires strung from his body brought it firmly into the realm of reality. And with it all the warmth gone from my blood.

He was so still. Every inch of him that was exposed to the light was covered in white bandages, and the morbid resemblance to a death shroud shot through my mind. I didn't know what was worse; the memory of Aizawa broken and bleeding on the ground, or this; the vision of him mummified in white, still and silent.

My chest tightened painfully. For a moment my brain refused to believe that this person was Aizawa, and that I had somehow entered the wrong person's room. Every identifiable feature was covered, except - there was no mistaking those lengthy raven locks tumbling across the pillow. In my soul I knew. That was Aizawa. It was him.

The monitor next to his bed was giving out a rhythmic beep every second or so, a single green line steadily rising and falling across the screen with the electronic sound. It was the only sign that any life existed within that room. That Aizawa was indeed alive.

My hand buried into the doorframe for support as my knees suddenly threatened to give out beneath me for a second time. I couldn't go in there. I couldn't - I didn't belong. Who was I? I was not a close friend or even a colleague who knew him for years. I had no right to be here.

I struggled to get down a single breath, my lungs filling with the sharp antiseptic scent of the room. It was wrong. This was wrong.

I had come to see Aizawa - well, mission fucking accomplished.

I retreated a step and hit something hard, the back of my head colliding against a jangle of metal.

Before I could even see what I had hit, weight landed on my shoulder, familiar warmth spreading down my back.

"Eve."

The sound came from above, stirring the top of my head, so close, so quiet, yet I felt the tremor within it, the slight hitch in the chest I had backed into as if the person who had spoken my name was on the verge of breaking too. Brutal awareness struck me down like lightning at my own sheer arrogance. I was blocking the way for Mic to reach Aizawa. His friend. Not mine. I - I didn't know what I was anymore.

I made a move to step to the side, out of the way, when Mic's other arm came down on the door, blocking me. Immediately my body reversed directions, seeking an out, but the hand on my shoulder gripped me tighter, pinning me in place.

Panic crept in and my heart started to climb.

Mic moved quickly, his head snapping to the side. "Say fellas," he flashed a wide grin at the six officers, no hint of the tremor in his voice, "mind stayin' out here? Hope you understand, but this here is a private affair."

The officers shifted nervously in response, glancing warily at each other. Letting me out of sight was probably something they were told strictly not to do. But cramming all eight of us into a single room also probably went against hospital policy.

A thought struck me. I could stay out here. With them. I would still be within range of Mic's remote while he visited Aizawa, and I wouldn't have to enter that room. A win-win for everyone.

My body pulled to the left, trying to worm out from under Mic's hand, but it held firm, locking me down.

Behind me I heard the footsteps of one of the officers approach, his presence nearing until I could make out his unique breaths. There was a pause, the officer peering past Mic's shoulder and inside the stark, silent room. No doubt checking for windows or any signs of possible escape routes.

There was nothing of the sort. Nothing but four solid white walls and the single door that both Mic and I were standing in. If I was going to escape, it wouldn't be from here. Not when there were six guards and one Hero to get past.

Apparently coming to the same conclusion, the officer stepped back, an inhale marking the beginning of words.

Mic beat him to it. "Thanks, man. We'll let you know if Eraserhead wakes up so you can get his statement." My heart skipped and before I knew what was happening, I was maneuvered over the threshold and inside the room. Mic stepped in after me, quickly shutting the door behind.

No. No. No. No.

The word clanged out repeatedly in my mind, even as I felt the pressure move from my shoulder to my lower back, guiding me further into the room, closer to Aizawa. My legs - my traitorous legs - obeyed, each step bringing me closer to the bed until I was right beside it, staring down.

There Aizawa lay, a sea of white threatening to swallow him whole from the sheets tucked up to his neck, to the bandages covering his face, to the pillow where strands of his black hair splashed across.

In a cart beyond lay his things, his capture weapon tattered beyond repair and dyed red with his blood. The machine beside it continued to beep out the steady rhythm of Aizawa's heart, a far slower tempo than the one that was pulsing through my own veins.

I didn't know where to look, what to feel, what to do. There had been a few times when I had been an invisible spectator to events similar to this, hired by the families in a desperate plea to have their loved ones awakened when all other medical avenues failed. Sometimes I was successful in guiding the wayward souls back into their bodies, sometimes there was nothing I could do. But the desperation - that I understood. Now that I was on the other side, knowing that there was nothing I could do, but willing to make whatever bargain necessary just to have Aizawa open his eyes.

Somewhere in the recesses of my oblivion, I faintly heard a metallic sound then footsteps before something lightly brushed the back of my legs.

I flinched, twisting and finding Mic's figure straightening back up.

"Sit." He pointed down to the stool he had placed.

I watched him for a moment as he strode to find another before finally taking the offered seat. Mic dug out a second stool from some far corner before setting it beside mine, taking up the position by Aizawa's head.

For several long moments neither of us said anything, simply staring at the bed, the monitor of Aizawa's vitals striking against the silence and marking the passing seconds. Beneath the crisp white sheets, Aizawa's chest rose imperceptibly and fell again just as softly. He took another breath, then another - each one a miracle, and yet having the appearance as though he was simply in a deep, peaceful sleep.

The sight stirred something within and I remembered the last time I had seen him sleeping so soundly. He had fallen asleep on the couch beside me, the notepad he had been using to mark the kids' progress through their combat training lying forgotten in his lap, the pen slipping from his fingers. His face, once so guarded and drained, had a blissfulness to it that only sleep could ever bring.

A second vision followed the first, the scene switching to that fateful night when I had discovered him fast asleep in the breakroom at the Commission's headquarters. He had looked tired even then, a worn rawness that resonated out and touched my soul. That felt like so long ago, and so much had happened since then. So much that I had never planned on happening. A connection. A place. A home.

"There's a smile." Mic murmured softly beside me.

I turned to him, confused by the statement. Piercing green eyes stared back and in that moment I realized he was referring to me.

The muscles in my face crashed down, my heart a thundering beat against my ribs. This was not the time or place to be smiling. Not when Aizawa was literally in front of us unconscious on a hospital bed.

Immediately, I shied away from that gaze, my fingers fumbling with the ends of my blue gown as I scrounged for the right words to say.

"Hey, hey." Mic reached out to me. I froze at his touch, feeling the heat of his fingertips brush against the skin of my arm. "Tell me-" I turned, finding the softest of smiles waiting for me, "-what you were thinking just now. It looked like a good memory."

His hand lingered for a moment more before withdrawing, taking the warmth with it as I swallowed down the sterile air. "I-I was just remembering the last time I saw him sleeping." I confessed.

"Oh? And which weird place did Aizawa choose to nap this time?"

"Nowhere. This was back at home." I answered quickly. Somehow I didn't think telling Mic of my silent voyeurism back at the Commission's breakroom counted as a 'good memory'.

An sly grin curled at one corner.

"In bed?" He asked.

His tone was casual but beneath it I detected something else.

My brow crinkled at the else. "No. The couch. We were going through the footage of the kids' battle training and he fell asleep."

The smile became wistful as Mic leaned backwards. He held onto the stool's edge, his neck craning back as he stared absently up at the ceiling. "That's a pretty tame place for him to pick." He muttered. "I half expected you to say something like the stairs or the kitchen counter. He has a habit of choosing the strangest of places. Once I found him on top of the bookcases in the library."

I couldn't help the snort that blew past my nostrils at the mental image. "Was he in his cocoon?"

Mic lowered his gaze to me, brows rising high. "Cocoon?"

My fingers twirled in the air, drawing out the shape. "Oh, you know - that giant sleeping bag he seems to pull out from nowhere."

"You noticed that too, huh?" Mic cracked a grin. "Strange to call it a cocoon though, but now that you've said it, I can't unsee it." A small shiver ran down his spine.

"Well, doesn't it look like one? Especially when he's in it?"

"You got a point." Mic let out a laugh, shaking his head. "Shame though that our boy here is forever fated to remain a gloomy caterpillar and never a social butterfly."

My gaze slipped down to Aizawa's face, the soft smile returning. "That's fine." Aizawa didn't need to change. He was perfect just the way he was, rough edges and all.

Mic went quiet, but I felt his eyes linger on my face, watching me. "I heard from Thirteen what you said to Aizawa." My breath caught in my chest, a tightness seizing me. "And I had a chance to skim through the report collected from the kids on how you swooped in and saved him from those villains." A careful pause. "You really care for him, don't you?"

My mouth fell open. "I-"

How do I even respond to that? These unfamiliar feelings were so new and so much had happened that I hadn't had time to process any of it. Did I care for Aizawa? Yes. I had declared it in front of everyone. Loudly. I couldn't deny any of that. But were those feelings something more?

I was still figuring that part out.

"Sorry. You don't have to answer that." Mic mumbled quickly as he hunched forward on his elbows, his body sagging. "He's my buddy, you know?" He looked at the figure before him, tender worry filling his face. "I've looked out for him for a long time, so I wanted to make sure. But I've also seen how different he is with you. You've brought out a side of him I haven't seen in a long time," His gaze shifted to mine. "So thank you, Eve. Thank you for saving my best friend. For caring for him. For bringing my buddy back to me."

"Mic, I-"

"Hizashi."

I blinked, confused.

"Call me Hizashi." Mic clarified, his lips tipping up in a soft smile. "You're my friend too now, and after everything that's happened today, I think we can call each other by our first names."

I-I didn't know what to say.

"Of course," Mic went on, picking up on my hesitation and dropping his eyes back to his restless hands, "you can call me Yamada too if my first name is too much right now. I would be happy with either one."

Friends? Is that what we were? Friends cared for each other, and Mic had been the one who brought me here. Rushed to the nurse's office to make sure that I was alright. Caught me when I was about to fall. Then there were all the other times we had been together and not once had he shown me suspicion or contempt. Those were the actions of a truly kind soul - a friend. And, in this moment, I desperately needed one.

For the next few hours at least we could be just that. Friends. No expectations. No promises. Just friends.

"Thank you, Hizashi." I breathed. "For everything."

The smile grew on Mic's face, a glimmer like dawn brightening behind his eyes as he continued to stare down at his hands. The tightness eased out of his shoulders and he sat up a little straighter, his gaze rising again to Aizawa's sleeping figure.

"Aizawa and Principal Nezu told us before you came that you're looking for someone - a long lost friend. That's how you ended up here at UA with us."

A kind way to say that I got caught stealing information, but I nodded. "Natsu."

"Your friend?"

Another nod. "We grew up together in the same orphanage. He and I -" I paused, wondering how much to say. Yet, Mic had laid himself bare, so I would do the same.

I took a breath, letting the words fall freely. "We were inseparable, though it was mostly one-sided." I loosed chuckle under my breath. "Ever since I can remember Natsu was always by my side. There were lots of other kids at the orphanage, but for some reason all he wanted was to follow me around. Stuck to me like glue and claimed that we were partners." The memory of cool night air and the creek of a rusty merry-go-round floated into my mind along with the sweet taste of cookies filling my mouth. I swallowed, a tightness settling into my throat. "He was my only friend. My family. My support. My protector. And I was his. We were all each other had." My face suddenly soured. "But," I grumbled, my nose wrinkling, "as we grew older I was upgraded from his partner to his sidekick."

"Wanted to be a Hero, did he?" Mic smirked.

I snorted, shooting Mic a sideways glance. "Natsu was far too reckless for his own good to become a Hero. But, yah, that was his dream. Once we got out of that place we were going to apply to UA to become Heroes, because that's where the best Heroes came from according to him."

"Well, he wasn't wrong about that." The grin became smug for a moment before it turned curious. Mic tilted his head to the side, virescent eyes sliding over the rim of golden shades and intently into mine. "You said that was his dream to become a Hero. What about you? Was that your dream too?"

I shrugged, turning away back to the end of the bed in front of me. "Someone had to keep an eye on him and make sure he didn't get into too much trouble - or cause it. If Natsu wanted to become a Hero, then I guess I would have been one too."

Not really an answer, but also not a lie. All this talk of dreams and Heroes - it made me aware that I didn't really have a dream of my own. Beyond finding Natsu there was nothing else. Once I found him I could focus on such luxuries like dreams.

Mic followed my gaze back to Aizawa.

"Aizawa and Principal Nezu also mentioned what happened to you both." Mic said, his voice darkening as a muscle ticked along his jaw. His hands clenched together in a single fist. "Quirk trafficking. And using kids no less." Fury crashed across his face, silent and threatening before I was forced to blink and it was gone. A different emotion took its place, contorting the Hero's mouth through a series of interesting shapes as words tried and failed to make their way onto his tongue.

"I hate to ask this," Mic finally said, glancing at me unsure, "but you're talking as if your friend can still be found. It's been…fifteen years. How do you know that he's not…" His voice trailed off.

"Dead?" I finished for him. Truthfully, the thought had more than once terrorized my mind and been a source of my nightmares over the years.

A grim expression crossed Mic's face in confirmation.

I raised a hand over my heart. "It's because of this." I said as my senses dove inwards, feeling the thin string that lay within. "I have this connection with him that tells me that he's still alive somewhere out there. It's similar to the connection I get when I'm using my quirk to track someone down, but for some reason I can't follow this thread back to him. I've tried. No matter where I go the connection doesn't get stronger or weaker. All it tells me is that he is alive, and that's good enough for me. As long as this feeling exists, I'll keep looking. I won't give up."

Mic's gaze remained on the spot long after I had dropped my hand away.

"We'll find him." He said softly.

Surprise sprang across my face.

"If you say that he's still alive," Mic's eyes lifted to mine, "then that's good enough for me too. He's a victim, just like you. He deserves to be found and brought home. And perhaps, when we find him, we can bring the bastards who did this to justice. Yeah?"

My heart twisted. He had said we, not you, not I, not someone else. But we. Like I was a part of them now. Still a part of them.

A hopeful fantasy, but I appreciated the gesture nonetheless so I said, "Yeah. I'd like that."

Warmth filled in behind Mic's eyes before he turned away. He took a breath and his long arms swung up, his fingers intertwining and cracking the joints high above his head in a satisfying groan. The movement caused his jacket to lift, exposing a form fitting white undershirt beneath while the leather creaked out in protest.

My eyes lingered for a microsecond on that white sliver before wisely choosing somewhere else to look.

"How's your energy level now?" Mic asked, blissfully ignorant of my ogling as he released his arms back down to his sides along with an exhale. He rolled his neck side to side. "We can stay here all night if you want," he offered, "but I think a bed would do you more good than-"

A soft groan whispered out.

"H-Hizashi?"

The voice was hoarse and dry, sounding so much deeper and rougher than I had ever heard it. But heard it we had.

Together, Mic and I froze, our heads jerking towards Aizawa's form as it weakly began to stir back to life under the sheets.

Mic was on his feet, the stool scraping back before I could even suck in a sharp, wavering breath. Quickly he laid a hand on Aizawa's shoulder, letting the weight register in Aizawa's mind that he was not alone as a relieved smile warm as sunshine spread across his face.

"I'm here, buddy." He answered gently.

Something deep within me wrenched painfully at the tender interaction, the thought making itself known once again that I did not deserve to be here.

"The kids?" Aizawa croaked.

"They're fine. Everyone is fine. Just scrapes and bruises. The only serious injuries among them was Midoriya's broken fingers, but that's it."

"Thirteen?"

"She's fine too."

"And...Eve?"

My heart stuttered. Aizawa had spoken my name so softly, almost in a cautious whisper, and in the next instant I was transported back to hours prior where I had practically proclaimed my feelings for him and all to hear. I remembered his response, not in words cause there had been none, but the way his hand had faintly squeezed mine before he leapt down those fateful stairs. That small gesture had been both a confirmation and affirmation that that would not be the end between us. That we would speak again.

But not like this. It couldn't be like this. Not when I was on my way out. If there was no discussion between us, if no discussion took place, then that's where Aizawa and I ended - back there on the steps of the USJ. It was the most painless thing I could think of considering the situation.

This was my silent goodbye. Emphasis on the silent.

Mic glanced at me out of the corner of his eye when I did not immediately make myself known. Aizawa could not see us, and as long as I stayed quiet, he would never know that I was here.

Quickly, I shook my head at Mic, keeping my lips firmly pressed shut. Mic frowned, brows scrunching in confusion as to why I had suddenly gone mute.

"She's…okay." He responded after a moment.

"Hizashi." Aizawa said sharply, finding his voice though it sounded like it was filled with cotton. "What aren't you telling me? What happened to her?"

"She's fine!" Mic quickly assured him, turning back. "A bit banged up, but she'll be good to go in no time. Her injuries are only second to yours."

"Considering how I'm currently feeling, that is not very reassuring." Aizawa lifted one of his arms experimentally under the sheets and immediately released a pained groan, the limb plopping back down onto the mattress.

"How are you feeling?" Mic pressed in, his concern escalating. "Any pain? Do you need me to call the doc? How's your eyes? The doctor said that you might-" His right hand started to move towards the call button above Aizawa's head.

"Yamada."

Mic froze, his finger poised inches away.

"Tell me. Now." Aizawa demanded icily. "What happened to Eve? I'm pretty sure I saw her towards the end before I passed out. Heard her too."

Immediately, the memory bubbled up, heat rising in my face as Mic made another glance at me, encouraging me to speak up.

I turned my chin, my gaze landing to the end of the bed directly in front of me as if I had never seen his pointed stare. Even if it ultimately made me a coward, I was determined to keep my silence.

I felt the side of my face burn hotter with Mic's gaze before I heard his weight hit the chair, a tight breath swishing out. "You can ask her yourself. She's here too."

My head whipped towards Mic, so fast and so hard that it was a wince instead of glare that shot across my face. Pain roiled through my neck and down my spine in a spasm that had me hunching over like a crone. My hands dug into the ends of my knees as I held in my groan, fire licking its way down my wounds. Mic had sold me out, but there was no time to figure out why - the monitor relaying Aizawa's vitals suddenly skipped, Aizawa's body becoming still as death under the sheets.

A measure of silence passed before the lilt of Aizawa's voice, cautious and cool, rose above the noise of the devices surrounding him. "Eve?"

Whatever resolve I had to stay silent, it shattered right then and there. I couldn't deny that tone, so searching, so reaching. Couldn't deny him.

The spasm stampeding through my muscles eased, the pain and betrayal a forgotten memory as I lifted my face to that starched bandaged mask. I bit my lip, focusing all of my strength on keeping my voice from trembling.

"Hi, Aizawa." I said quietly.

The monitor jumped…

"You're here." He murmured in quiet disbelief.

…and then it started to race.

Aizawa snapped his head to the side, strands of his black hair tumbling over the pillow. "Hizashi. Explain yourself."

"Eh? Whaddaya mean?" Mic sputtered, reeling back.

"Why is she here?" Aizawa's voice steadily rose, a dangerous chill lying in it.

"I brought her here."

"Why?"

Mic gritted his teeth, rising to his feet. "What do you mean why?" He shot back furiously. "She's concerned about you just like the rest of us. Do you have any idea just how close you were this time?"

My attention snagged. This time?

Mic's fists furled, anger leaking from him like a sieve. "Sometimes I swear that you purposely go leaping into danger, never giving a thought to what it does to the rest of us. Why must you always do things by yourself?"

Aizawa turned his head away to the far wall as if it would shield him from Mic's verbal lashing. "I didn't have a choice this time. We were under attack."

"Like hell you didn't!" Mic snapped. "Getting the kids out of there should have been your first priority, not taking on more villains than you could handle! What were you thinking, man!"

"What I was thinking," Aizawa murmured back flatly, "was that the villains could attack again. If I couldn't stop them there, then I could at least slow them down. I had to give Thirteen and everyone enough time to get away."

"And what about you?! Did you ever consider what kind of effect you would have on the kids if you had died? You have a duty to them and-"

Mic's hand had barely started to sweep towards me when Aizawa cut him off, "Enough, Yamada. You've made your point."

The look on Mic's face was definitely one that read that he was anything but done, his lips twitching and ready with more points. After a moment though, he swallowed them back, a scowl darkening his face. Dropping back down onto the stool with an irritated huff, he crossed his arms, his knee starting an aggressive bounce that was matched only by his drumming finger.

Aizawa turned his head back to the ceiling, the sheets rising softly with his chest as he took in long, even breaths.

"Just tell me this, Hizashi," Aizawa started again, softer, calmer, "that you went through the proper channels in bringing Eve here."

"Tch! What do you take me for? Of course I did!" Mic scoffed, the leg and finger coming to a sudden halt. "Principal Nezu and the Commission gave the green light for this little outing."

"That is rather surprising."

"Really?! Have a little faith in me, will ya?"

"It's not that." Aizawa shook his head lightly, speaking up to the air above. "I'm just surprised that you were able to convince the Safety Commission to allow Eve to leave school grounds. You know their position on the matter after what happened yesterday."

Mic's irritation evaporated as he bent forward over his knees, his hands interlocking together as his expression turned serious. "All Might managed to convince Mr. Tsukauchi to let Eve come - ah, he's their temporary representative since he's the one investigating the attack." He explained, glancing up at Aizawa's face as though Aizawa could see him. "There shouldn't be a problem with Eve being out as long as I bring her back. You should have seen the police escort we arrived with. They're waiting outside to take your statement once you're up to it."

"Hmm." Aizawa drew silent, thinking before speaking again. "You mentioned All Might - I assume then that he showed up at some point?"

"Yeah, he got there before we did, though Eve is probably a better person to ask about that since she was actually there for the whole thing."

My heart jolted at the mention. If I didn't know any better, I could have sworn that Mic was trying to draw me into the conversation - whether I wanted it or not.

To my further horror Aizawa made an acknowledging sound and began to shift, several muffled pained groans passing from under the bandages as he struggled to sit up.

Mic rose quickly, an arm diving behind Aizawa's shoulders and supporting him.

"Do you really think you should be moving around so suddenly?" Mic protested as he tried to convince Aizawa to lie back down.

"I'm fine. This is nothing." Aizawa grumbled, continuing to rise into a seated position. The increased shrill beeps of the monitor spoke a different truth however, and I eyed the call button on the wall. The split thought of pressing it and sending for the doctor flashed through my mind. It was an easy way out. If the doctor came, this conversation, whatever was about to happen, would end right here. Aizawa could find out everything later when I was well and truly gone, but - Mic's body moved, blocking the button from view as he helped Aizawa to rise, repositioning the pillows behind his back and head as Aizawa settled against them. The sheets fell into a pool in his lap, revealing a hospital gown loosely covering his torso.

I stared, my thoughts immediately finding their way back to the last memory of him at the USJ bare chested and lying on the hard ground, his colleagues pouring over him in a tight circle. The emotions that existed then rose again, spearing through me.

My eyes dropped to the casts surrounding his arms as I chewed on my lower lip, an odd swirling, prickling sensation edging into the space between my heart and stomach.

Aizawa motioned to Mic, jerking his chin to the offending screen next to his head whose blaring chimes were now assaulting directly into his ear. "Turn that thing off, will you?"

"I don't think we-"

"Just do it."

A series of incoherent grumbles rushed out under Mic's breath as he reached across and pressed the button on the side of the screen. The device blipped into blackness, dying with one final cry and falling silent.

"Now," Aizawa started, turning his head towards me as Mic took his seat again. "I think it would be best if I'm brought up to speed with everything going on before I talk with the police."

I shifted my weight uneasily on the stool, my heart thundering so loudly that I could have sworn it had replaced the beeping monitor. Rationality told me that Aizawa could not see, not with those bandages covering his face and eyes. And yet, I had the unnerving impression that he could.

"So Eve-" My heart stilled, "-why don't you give me a rundown of what happened after I left?"

I swallowed thickly. His voice had gone back to its usual monotone evenness, not divulging anything and making it impossible to navigate the path ahead. But, Aizawa had posed the question so that I would have to begin after…that. But that was the problem. That was when everything went wrong. When everything ended.

My hands tensed in my lap as I tried to take in a steadying breath, but it was like all the air had gone out of the room.

"After you left," I began hesitantly, "we were attacked by a villain with a warp quirk. He caught us off guard and blocked our way out before we could even reach the doors and get outside. He used his quirk and took most of the kids before Thirteen had a chance to do anything."

"He must have been the one that got away." Aizawa murmured, his voice lost in thought.

Something about it caught my attention and I paused.

Aizawa shook his head lightly. "Never mind. Please continue."

I glanced at Mic and he offered an encouraging nod.

Regathering my breath, I started again. "After the villain took the kids, only Thirteen, Soji, Sero, Sato, Iida, Mina, Uraraka, and I were left behind. Thirteen tasked Iida with the goal to contact the school, and then she immediately engaged with the villain as a distraction to give Iida a chance to escape. But she was outmatched. So that's when I-" I stopped, my voice suddenly giving out as my throat constricted.

My breath failed me, my chest heaving as if I had just run a mile. A small twitch in my lap caught my attention, and, glancing down, I noticed that my hands were trembling.

I was afraid.

This was it - the point of no return. Once I said the next words, Aizawa would know. He was the final tie to a fantasy that had died hours ago. Once he knew, I would no longer be the Eve that he had left on the stairs. No, I would be Eve, the reinstated criminal. And, in the bright and shining land of Heroes where the law trumped all, there would no longer be a place for someone like me.

I forced myself to take another breath, my vision glazing over as I stared at a single spot on the bed. My mouth opened and I began to speak, the words tumbling out mechanically. "And that's when I had Mina melt my collar off so I could use my quirk to attack the villain." No sugarcoating. No mincing of words. There was no point when Mic had already read the reports and would know instantly if I was lying.

I waited for a response, yet still silence was my only reply. I waited for a thundering heartbeat more and when Aizawa's voice did not rise, I went on, taking it as a bid to continue. My mind stepped through the memories as I recited everything that had happened - everything that others would report seeing - right up until the arrival of the teachers. By the time I ended my recount my throat had become parched, a heaviness settling deep into my bones that made me cry out for sleep. My vision refocused and unfocused, coming to rest on the soft bed directly before me. Soft. So soft and inviting. The thought of planting my face straight into that comfy surface slipped effortlessly into the front of my mind.

I started to lean.

I slammed my eyes close, shutting off the temptation as I scavenged whatever energy I could find within and straightened, looking to the two Heroes beside me. Mic's gaze met mine. A small, gentle smile lifted up the corners of his mouth, though a somber weight now rested behind his expression. Maybe after hearing the entirety of the attack straight from my own mouth, he could finally see that there was no possible way of saving me. I had done too much. Broken too many laws.

Wherever Nezu was, whatever he was trying to do to convince the HPSC - it was an exercise in futility.

My focus slid to Aizawa next, waiting. He had gone quiet - still, his head bent to stare halfway down the bed.

A small eternity ticked by before his voice struck against the silence. "Is this some sort of game to you? Treating your life so casually?"

I knew what he was talking about, referencing the time when I had forced him to save me moments away from splattering against the ground during my quirk assessment test. That, and now coupled with this latest instance of purposefully throwing myself into harm's way, I could see how he would think that I didn't value my own life. Yet, Aizawa chastising me for acting recklessly was like the pot calling the kettle black. He was the one who had a penchant for getting hurt if Mic's earlier insinuations were to be believed.

I blew out a dry laugh. "If my life was a game, it would be called 'Trouble'."

"So glad you find this amusing." Aizawa drawled, his voice rough like sandpaper.

"Hey now." Mic barked. "Eve is fully aware of her actions. No need to go-"

"No." Aizawa interrupted. "She isn't."

Mic made a sound. "Whaddya mean?"

A quiet pause.

"She doesn't know, Mic."

Deep twin creases formed along Mic's brow, his gaze sweeping from Aizawa to me and back again. "Doesn't know? Doesn't know about what? The Commission's condition if she ever activated her quirk on her own? But you explained that to her though when she arrived. The Commission may be gung ho to ship her off, but Tartarus is a little much if you ask me-"

I shot to my feet, my chair clattering behind as I stumbled back.

I couldn't breathe. The room was suddenly too tight, too small. My bindings shrunk against my wounds, my collar strangling each breath like a noose as I took a step away from the bed.

Tartarus. The name alone clanged through me as clear and as violent as any punch to the stomach. I knew it - the infamous offshore prison that housed the most dangerous villains that society had to offer. Murders. Rapists. Fanatics. Anything and everything that pure and utter evil had to offer. And I was about to be sent there; locked in with them.

Locked in like them.

I stopped seeing the soft painted walls, the polished floor tiles, or the medical devices with their instruments and blinking lights. Darkness inched in, devouring and crushing, metal paneling replacing the surrounding walls and floor that offered no warmth, no kindness. No humanity. Cause that's what Tartarus was - a place built for people who weren't human anymore.

Pressure built in my chest. Had Aizawa mentioned that at all?

My weary mind limped, stumbling through the hazy memories from the first day or any day after.

No.

Aizawa had definitely not told me about Tartarus.

The pressure in my chest became a crushing weight, my lips struggling to deliver precious air to my lungs.

Mic cursed, starting after me. "Eve? Eve - hey, calm down." He bent low, his arms opening as if he was approaching a frightened animal. "We're not going to let that happen to you. Principal Nezu won't-" He stretched out a hand.

My body moved on its own, taking two quick steps back as the hospital and reality reformed in front of me. Tension laced my muscles, ready to fight even as pain surged down my back.

Ringed green eyes widened, something flashing that I could only call confusion before I blinked and my gaze shifted down, settling on the hand outstretched. It hung between us, reaching, ready to help, yet every sense of mine vehemently refused.

I had to remind myself that I was not the helpless child that I was on that night so many years ago. I had grown. I had become stronger. But in that moment none of it mattered. I had been rendered powerless, and a hand extended could do so much - it could give or it could take.

And life had shown me enough of the latter to know to not risk either.

So I drew out of reach of that hand, beginning to pace the room as Mic watched on. I needed to move, but there was nowhere else to go. No space that I could walk to without arrest. I was trapped.

But that was nothing new. From one cage to another I had allowed myself to be restrained, tempered myself out of necessity - because Ivan had said that these people were friends. So the bars of my cage became that - switching from thick glass shields to kind, warm smiles.

My hand came up, twisting the tight metal ring back and forth around my neck. No matter how bright the smiles, a cage was still a cage.

I didn't question. Stupid. I should have known. The collar's presence alone should have clued me in to how precarious my position was. If my incarcerators were willing to go to these lengths to keep me contained even when I was surrounded by multitudes of Heroes, how did I ever think that a regular prison was what awaited me?

My stomach curled inwards, an acidic taste rising in the back of my mouth. But I couldn't panic, even as it threatened to swell within. What I needed now more than anything was answers - answers that would paint a clearer picture to what I was up against. And to prepare for what was to come.

I drew in a deep, measured breath and turned back. Mic stood between us, lines of concern carving at the corners of his face as he looked at me.

I ignored his gaze, directing my voice past him. "Why wasn't I told about this?" I asked.

Mic turned slowly, taking a step to the side as his attention slid to his friend.

On the bed Aizawa froze. How he had managed to move at all without notice, I didn't know. A single leg hung over the bed's edge, his bare foot brushing against the hard ground with the rest of him poised to follow suit. The tubes and wires that fed into his body were stretched out behind him, quivering in the air with the strain of holding him back and threatening to disconnect.

Sensing the expectant silence, the mask of white linen flashed towards me before it reverted back to the floor.

"You didn't need to know." Aizawa responded curtly as he struggled to draw the other leg out.

All I could do was stare, those words echoing over and over again in my head. The way he said them, so casual and certain. Like he knew what was best for me. Like I was his. Like a child to a parent. Or a pet to an owner.

I blinked. There - there was no way that that was true. Aizawa, he - he was different. Kind. Gentle. Attentive.

A Hero.

A Hero whose job it was to keep watch over me - my warden.

My captor.

My master.

Somewhere along the way I had forgotten that. Or maybe I had allowed myself to be distracted. Any sane person in my situation would at least show some measure of resistance against their captor, but I - I went ahead and developed feelings for mine. Cared for him. Saved him. Loved him -

No sooner had those two words formed in my head when an eerie cold settled into my core, my blood stilling in my veins. I knew what this was. Why I was feeling this way. Why I had chosen to care when I should have been indifferent. There was even a term for it, a pleasant little condition that explained my attachment for my captor-

Stockholm syndrome.

These feelings. They weren't real. They were a coping mechanism. A way to survive.

The little entrenched voice of denial rose again before the thoughts and memories turned over in my mind like evidence in a case file. Aizawa never cared for me. Not in that way. He was doing his job as a Hero tasked to keep careful watch over a criminal. And he had done it beautifully. I could see his plan as if it was laid out before me. Make Eve feel like she belongs so she'll want to stay. Show her compassion so she won't put up a fight. Give her a home so she'll always be close.

Because there was no greater method of control than the guise of kindness to a person starved for affection. And for a man whose life centered around simple efficiency, there was nothing easier to ensure that I behaved.

"I didn't need to know?" I repeated slowly. At some point Mic had gone to Aizawa, forcing him back onto the bed, but at the sound of my voice both of them tensed, as if sensing a new creature rising in my skin. I didn't care. Didn't care that it was late or that my voice would no doubt carry out to the hall beyond. Everything and nothing faded into the background as I took a step forward.

"And what about now?" I cried out. "Do you think I need to know now?! Just when I'm about to be shipped off to Hell on Earth? It's my life, Aizawa! My life! And ever since you entered it I've been cornered, captured, and coerced. I've had no say in anything since I've been here, but even so I've cooperated with you because I trusted you. I believed that you Heroes were different. That you were different," Aizawa's head lifted a fraction, "but I see that I was wrong." I went on, retaking that step back. "I may have put this collar on, but that doesn't give you the right to make decisions for me. Or to keep secrets from me."

Aizawa pushed Mic away, sitting up straight and facing me.

"Can you honestly say that you're the only one not keeping secrets?" He responded, his voice as flat and frigid as that interrogation room he had questioned me in.

My spine snapped stiffer than a board. I could only think of two secrets I was keeping - my ability to shut down quirks and Ivan's name. But- "If I am keeping secrets," I said carefully as Mic tossed the sheets roughly back over Aizawa's legs, "they only affect me. Not you. They're not going to land you in Tartarus because you didn't know beforehand, so tell me the truth, Aizawa." My voice drew into a low growl. "Why didn't you tell me about this on the first day along with all those other threats? That was the perfect time to explain everything to me then considering you were laying everything else on me."

Mic went completely still.

"I-" Aizawa started hesitantly, as though aware of the quiet, bristling danger standing by his side, "I was concerned that if you knew that it would tip you over the edge and give you reason to distrust our intentions. You had only just arrived and having the threat of Tartarus hanging over your head would have been detrimental to your acclimatization here."

"Concerned?" I scoffed at the word. "And so what was shocking me with the collar then? A love tap? A gentle reminder to the tune of two thousand volts coursing through my system?"

Mic whirled to Aizawa, hissing. "You. Did. What? "

"Oh? He didn't tell you?" I cocked a brow at Mic, blazing on. "Aizawa made it clear what would happen if I didn't obey the rules or did anything out of line. Showed me exactly what this collar could do." I thumbed the metal ring around my neck. "Twice."

Mic had only begun to turn to me, his face paling and eyes widening in horror when Aizawa spoke behind him, "I said and did those things because I thought they would be enough without having to go any further. I didn't imagine that you would ever need to know, but I see now that I was wrong."

"Well, congratulations!" I threw my hands into the air. "Hindsight is twenty-twenty and I still get to be the one to go to Tartarus."

My breathing became ragged breaths, a quiet, raging sound in the silence that descended between us. As if on cue, the vents above gave a click, the gentle whoosh of cold air pumping into the room as the AC turned on. But the chill air did nothing for me. Inside I was imploding. Or was I exploding? I couldn't tell. Everything touching me - my bindings, my clothes, the collar - they were all too hot. Too tight. My skin was prickling with a thousand little touches, wanting to tear it all off and be free.

I had to calm down. Get myself under control. I was burning through what little energy I had left. Falling asleep here would most likely mean waking up in Tartarus, and for the sake of any future plans I needed to stay conscious till then.

I dragged my fingers through the messy tangles of my hair, pulling on the long, loose strands. It was a soothing feeling, and I twisted the strands up and off the nape of my neck into a tight fist, relishing the tension that danced across my scalp.

Mic's gaze was on me, watching the movement in trepidation.

I shut my eyes, blocking him and the room out while I willed breath into my lungs. The darkness that greeted me there behind my lids was an old familiar friend, but I couldn't stay in its welcoming embrace for long. Even in the darkness I felt the world beginning to spin out inside my head, exhaustion threatening to take me. I sucked in a breath, holding it as I heard the deep baritone of Aizawa's voice softly rise.

"Would it have mattered?" He asked quietly. "If you had known?" If I had known before I took off the collar? Before I had made the decision to save the kids and him at the expense of my own freedom? At least that was an answer I had. I may have gone insane, but my morals were still intact.

I opened my eyes, settling them on him.

"No." I breathed out, some of my anger going out with it. I released my hair, letting it fall around my face. "It wouldn't have mattered. I would have still chosen to save everyone." Including you went unsaid.

But my eyes were opened now - figuratively and literally. I couldn't trust anyone, not even myself or these feelings inside. Perhaps, in some twisted way, it was fortunate that I learned about Tartarus now - needed the shock of it to wake me up and see things for what they truly were. To see just how screwed up my thoughts and emotions had become.

Just because these Heroes were friends, didn't mean that they were anything more. Only I believed that. That was on me. I had made it that way. I had latched onto the first sign of kindness, the first sign of warmth and twisted it into something that I wanted. But I had forgotten. How could I ever have affections for a Hero who held the other end of my leash, or who could dole out punishment on a whim? Or for that matter - Heroes - people who were really just more wardens to keep me in check?

My eyes flashed to the pocket on Mic's jeans that I knew held the remote to my collar, as if I could see the faint outline of it there through the black leather.

"Look, I'm not defending him, but-" Mic started, lifting his hands cautiously and I jerked my gaze up, eyeing the distance between us. The hands stayed in the air, face down and non threatening as Mic continued, "we only found out about the Tartarus condition the morning you showed up. The Commission guys tacked it on at the last minute." A low, dark rumble made its way into his voice before it became an exasperated sigh. "That's why Aizawa wasn't there to greet you that morning. He was with Principal Nezu on the phone with them, trying to convince them to change their minds."

"So what?! I don't even get the courtesy of a trial now? Don't I have any rights? Send Eve straight off to Tartarus the moment she breaks the law? Is that what this all boils down to? Why am I so special?!" I lashed out.

"The Commission is afraid." Aizawa answered in a low, subdued voice. "Afraid of what you could do. Of what you did."

"All I did," I snapped back, "was steal information from their mainframe, and it wasn't even for evil intentions."

"You did more than that." Aizawa said, something about his tone snagging my attention. "You infiltrated a highly secure location, possessed the Commission's president, hacked into their servers, and then walked out of there without raising any alarms or leaving witnesses. You were too good."

"Obviously not good enough since you caught me." I growled as I crossed my arms over my chest.

"Nonetheless," Aizawa continued, "the Commission wants to bury you and the incident entirely. Very few people know what happened, and the Commission wants to keep it that way. Your infiltration, if made public, would expose the Commission to potential attack as well as shake the public's confidence in them. And, by extension, Hero society." He took a hard breath. "There is no playbook to deal with someone with your abilities. For better or for worse, you scared them, Eve."

A shiver coursed through me as he said my name, like a caress against my very soul. I crushed it down, but not the next word that slipped from my lips. "Why?"

Why was the Commission so afraid? Sure, I was guilty of all those things Aizawa had said, but there were far more dangerous criminals out there than me. One's with actual body counts.

Aizawa didn't answer for a long moment, his head hanging low. "Someone with your abilities," he murmured, "is virtually unstoppable. Your only weakness is your body, and that's only if it can be found in time. Until then, there's no way to prevent you from entering secure locations or possessing world leaders or even other Heroes. You may lack the raw destructive power to level cities, but it would be rather simple for you to manipulate others to do it for you and the world would be none the wiser."

I frowned. "You're making it sound like I have plans for world-domination."

"Whether or not you do is not the point here. The point is you attacked, and you caught the Commission wholly unprepared. Tartarus is the place the Commission dumps their problems into when they don't know what to do."

Problem? Is that what I had been reduced to? I was barely existing two weeks ago, but now I was a problem.

"So this is it then?" I whispered, my arms wrapping themselves tighter about me as my heart started to hammer away again. "I'm going to be thrown away. To be locked up and forgotten. That's what you're saying. Because that's the only solution to deal with someone like me." It was a fate worse than death.

"That's not going to happen." Mic stated firmly, taking a tentative step towards me and coming within arm's reach. I stared up at him unsure. "You're a part of UA now," he said, "and we're not going to hand you over without a fight."

"Mic-" Aizawa started.

"You agree with me, right?!" Mic shot angrily over his shoulder at Aizawa, his words rising sharply in volume. I winced, each word accompanying a searing stab behind my temples.

I clutched at my head, and beyond the twinging pain came Aizawa's too quiet reply. "We need to be realistic here."

Mic spun back, throwing out his hands. "I don't wanna hear it! Nothing is going to happen to Eve. They're not going to take her cause all she did was defend and protect, including your sorry, ungrateful ass." He pointed a sharp finger at Aizawa.

Enough. I had enough. There was nothing more to say. Nothing more to learn. Aizawa's words had been a cruel truth, a cold voice of reason parallel to my own. And yet, all I could feel was the bitter sting of abandonment.

But what did I expect? For him to tell me that everything would be alright? For him to save me as I had him? What could he do when he sat over there and I stood over here? Distance wasn't the only thing that separated us now.

In the end the only person I could ever count on to save me was me.

Resignation settled into me like a sinking stone. I needed to go, and I set my gaze on the wall of Mic's turned back. Between the police or him, he was the gentler way out.

I took a step, my hand reaching out to get his attention, and the room began to blur, my weight crashing into my limbs. I pitched forward, narrowly catching myself against my knees.

In front of me Mic continued to vent his rage, his words brimming with anger.

"Hizashi." I muttered weakly, using the name he had given me barely half an hour ago.

Mic's head whipped back to me at the quiet call, his voice fading away. Maybe eventually I would feel repentance for using our friendship to get what I wanted, for playing on his sympathies, but not right now. Not if it got me out of here.

I rose slowly, drawing out the effort as I met Mic's anxious stare. His body twisted around so fast, hands darting out to help, but stopped. They hovered awkwardly in the space between us, unsure where to touch. If they could touch.

"He's right. Aizawa's right, but it's okay." I panted, staggering back onto my feet as Mic's pupils shot wide. "I knew what I was giving up when I acted, so it's okay. I may not have known it was Tartarus that I was going to end up in at the time, but I'm ready. I'll be okay." Cause I would have to be until Ivan could get to me and do his thing. Just because I had submitted, didn't mean I had surrendered. Tartarus would not be my end.

But first I needed to leave.

Mic's face guttered. "Eve-"

I inclined my head towards the door. "Take me back?"

Mic hesitated, his eyes flying to the closed door and back to me. His gaze swept across my face, examining the deepening shadows lining under my eyes before rising higher. I saw myself in the glass of his shades. The face reflected there had the same silver hair, the same deep violet eyes, but it was a shell that stared back. A ghost, hollow and empty.

A look of panic shot across the Hero's face, seeing the same thing I was. His lips parted before they ultimately closed. Desperately he twisted back to Aizawa, looking to him as if expecting him to say something. But there was nothing. Aizawa didn't move. Didn't argue. Didn't fight. Didn't even try. He sat there, his torso slumped over his lap as his hair fell in a curtain about his face, obscuring it from view. It was the confirmation I needed to know that I was right. That what I thought was between us never existed at all.

Long seconds ticked by, Aizawa's clear silence ringing out as answer to Mic's silent plea before Mic gritted his teeth and spun back, remeeting my gaze. Finally, he nodded.

The corners of my mouth kicked up in an empty motion and fell just as quickly a second later as I turned away. I reached the door in a few short steps, hand on the handle, Mic following quietly behind when I paused. My stomach was tumbling, a knot lodging itself deep in my chest as I felt a chasm splinter me there on the threshold. I knew that chasm all too well. Could give it a name - loss.

For a short time I thought I had found something - something beautiful and warm. Something that had filled the hollow ache within. And even if it hadn't been real, even if it had been for the briefest moment, it had made me happy. I had been happy.

I turned my head, the faint outline of Aizawa's form filling my peripheral as I spoke into the cold silence. "Take care, Aizawa." I murmured quietly.

I turned back to the door, opening it and stepping out.

"Thank you, and goodbye."