Two weeks after their meeting with Kacchan, while he sleeps, Izuku receives a text.
I have to go dark for a while.
Message you when it's safe.
He tries texting Syo when he wakes a couple of hours later.
The number is no longer in service.
The summer heat fades, replaced by the crunch of fallen leaves as Izuku jogs down the streets of Musutafu. Dawn breaks later now, so he relies on the street lamps to light his way. Few people are around this early, and the chill keeps most from visiting Takoba Beach, despite Izuku's progress exposing expanses of sand and a beautiful view of the ocean. He still has far to go, but it's encouraging to see how far he's come; every time he comes to Takoba now, he likes to take a moment to survey all he's done.
He isn't working out today (All Might has made it clear Izuku must rest,) but he's come to Takoba Beach every day since Syo stopped texting him two months ago, just in case.
Just like every other day, Syo isn't there.
Izuku didn't expect him to be. Once they exchanged numbers, Syo always let Izuku know when he'd be at the beach, even on the days Izuku wasn't planning on going. He's certain Syo will text him to meet at Takoba when it is safe for him to do so. The concerning part of this is that obviously it isn't safe for Syo right now.
From the few hints Syo has let slip, Izuku knows he isn't in a stable situation: they're around the same age, but Syo doesn't go to school. His only family is an older brother who frequently travels across the country. He's had vigorous Quirk and combat training, with no plans to enter a Hero school. In fact, he seems to have a great dislike -or at least distrust- of most Heroes.
And Kacchan once knew him by a different name.
Izuku still doesn't know how they met or when, or why Syo found it so impactful. Kacchan makes it hard to gather any new intel from him; the few times Izuku gathered the courage to tell him Syo was missing, Kacchan immediately shut him down.
"I don't want to hear shit about that freak, Deku," he said, more or less verbatim.
The Monday after Syo's message, Izuku left Jurassic Park on Kacchan's desk. He would've -should've- gotten it to him sooner, but they'd gone back to avoiding each other; he was sure Kacchan preferred they continue to do so.
Apparently, he was wrong.
After school, Kacchan waited for him by the gate with the book clutched close to his chest. Simmering rage brimmed off him like a pot of water about to boil over. Neither of them spoke as Kacchan jerked his head towards the offbeat path leading away from the school. He walked away without turning back to see if Izuku followed..
He expected Kacchan to yell as soon as they were out of earshot of others, but he didn't. They walked with only the sound of traffic and crows between them until they reached the playground they used to frequent as children.
Izuku found himself on a pair of swings for the second time in as many weeks; these were in much better condition, with chains that didn't squeak and shiny red canvas seats. Kacchan slumped on the one beside him -unmoving- glaring at the book in his lap.
"Why the hell did you give this to me, Deku?" Kacchan asked, finally breaking the silence.
For as long as Izuku has known him, Kacchan has been loud, as if it were a side effect of his Quirk. But his voice was quiet then- raspy and dull, like he'd lost all the anger he usually directed at the world, and Izuku in particular.
After a moment of trying to calculate what answer he wanted, Izuku shrugged.
"Syo-kun asked me to return it to you," he said, digging his feet in the sand to keep himself steady.
Kacchan scoffed.
"You do whatever he asks you to? Missed being my lackey so much, you had to find someone else to give you orders, Deku?"
Izuku gripped the chains of the swing, feeling the metal bite into his palms.
"I'm just doing a favor for a friend."
Kacchan exploded in mocking laughter, beginning to sound more like his usual self.
"So you're 'friends' now?" He asked. "Weren't you saying just last week that you barely knew the guy?"
"... Do you need to know everything about a person to be their friend?"
"Do you know anything about him, Deku?" Kacchan sprang from his swing, gripping the chains of Izuku's with one hand and baring his teeth in a wolf's grin. "Did he ever give you his surname? Or tell you how old he was? What school he goes to? Where he lives? Have you even seen his face , Deku? How much do you want to bet 'Syo' isn't his REAL FUCKING NAME?"
Izuku closed his eyes as Kacchan shook his swing, cowering in the face of his yell. He had no rebuttal to Kacchan's claims.
Suddenly, Kacchan clicked his tongue and let go of the chains. Instead, he used his foot to tilt Izuku's swing back, spilling him from the seat.
Izuku's head smacked into the sand. The impact knocked the air from his lungs. Dust clouded around him. He wheezed and coughed, struggling to catch his breath.
"Stay the hell away from Toru, Deku. If you can't manage that, then at least stay the hell away from me."
Above him, disgust twisted Kacchan's features, like the sight of Izuku's weakness was of personal offense to him.
"T-toru?" Izuku gasped, the only part his addled brain could focus on.
Kacchan froze and swore, like he hadn't meant to let the name slip.
He kicked sand at Izuku.
Spit on the ground.
Then left.
(It wasn't until Izuku returned home and checked his back for bruises that he realized Kacchan never once tried to make him take the book back.)
Kacchan was right that day; Izuku knew next to nothing about Syo.
He still doesn't.
The past few weeks, he's scoured through their past messages for glimpses of the truth, carefully transferring the data to a new notebook. A herculean task, as the other boy guards any traceable information like a dragon guards its gold, but bit by bit, he's pieced together a picture of Syo:
A boy who likes cold soba, who takes pictures of stray cats whenever he sees them, but only from a distance.
A boy that dyes his hair black to match his brother, despite his apparent dislike of the maintenance and hassle.
A boy that received kindness from Kacchan once, and never forgot it.
A boy who kept a book like a promise for years.
A boy Izuku wants to know better.
And they are friends, he decides.
When Syo texts him back -if he ever does- he'd like to solidify it.
Izuku waits at the beach for about an hour, knowing if he stays any longer, he'll be late for class. He's still in his tracksuit and needs to jog home to shower and change. He unlocks his phone, intending to check the time, when he notices he has a message from an unknown number.
It says:
Takoba Beach.
He texts back, heart pounding:
Syo?! Is that you? Are you alright?
All he receives in reply is an address.
Without hesitation, he plugs it into his phone and runs.
Izuku doesn't expect to be taken back to the city, weaving through the familiar streets of his home. With the sun properly out, there are more people commuting to work or school. If he wants to be on time, he should head home to get ready for school himself, but the map directs him to the train station.
His phone pings. It's his mom, wondering where he is and if he wants breakfast.
Izuku tells her he has already left for school.
As he steps on the train, he texts Syo.
I'll be there in thirty minutes.
When the crowded train finally pulls to a stop, Izuku jumps onto the platform, quickly apologizing to the businessman he almost knocks over. He jogs through the city, hoping he doesn't look like he's skipping school, even in his tracksuit. It's still early. If he can verify that Syo is okay and get back on the train, he can make it home in time to change and only miss his first class. He'll have to sneak in, since he lied to his mom (why did he do that? Stupid stupid stupid), but if he's quiet, he can walk in through the front and then climb out his window.
The GPS directs Izuku to the front of a cat cafe. The lights are off and the door locked. A quick search online shows it doesn't open until 11. He opens his messages to check if the address is correct, and receives another text.
To your left.
In the alley.
Izuku freezes and does his best not to look like a deer caught in the headlights; the timing of the messages means he's being watched. What if the person messaging him isn't Syo? What if he's walked into some kind of trap?
But what if Syo is in trouble?
Gripping his phone like a lifeline, after a quick glance to check he's alone, Izuku slips into the alley.
It's dark and empty, except for a large dumpster and some discarded cat furniture.
"Syo?" He calls.
A boy with purple hair sticks his head out from behind the dumpster.
"Shh," he says, motioning for Izuku to come closer.
Izuku's never seen Syo's face, but he knows this other boy isn't him: from his disheveled hair, to his tired violet eyes, and the way he holds himself. This boy is a stranger, and he doesn't wait for Izuku's response before ducking back out of sight.
Despite his better judgment, Izuku approaches him.
On the ground, propped against the wall, is who Izuku knows immediately is Syo. He's not wearing his full face cover, just a disposable mask and an eye patch (Izuku notes his eye is gray), but Izuku can still tell it's him. His voice only confirms his identity.
"Thank you for coming, Midoriya," Syo says. "I'm sorry to bother you on a school day."
"Shut up and reserve your strength, idiot. I'll explain it to him."
The purple-haired boy has his hands pressed to bandages soaked through with blood on Syo's left side. Izuku gasps, kneeling beside him.
"What happened? You need a doctor! Have you called someone?"
"Don't you think we would have called someone else by now if we could?" The purple-haired boy asks.
Izuku opens his mouth to speak, but Syo stops him with a tight grip on Izuku's wrist.
"Don't, Shinsou." Syo's voice is like ice, his gaze as sharp as an icicle. "Not on him."
The boy -Shinsou- rolls his eyes.
"It'd be faster. You need all the time we can buy." Syo doesn't budge. Shinsou sighs, then turns to Izuku. "Long story short, Sora got shot. He can get the bullet out, and I can stitch him up, but we need some supplies. And a private bathroom, preferably. He said we could count on you."
There's a lot to unpack in there. Izuku doesn't know where to start. He pulls out his phone, but Syo (Sora?) tightens his grip.
"Don't… If I go to the hospital, they'll call the police."
"But you're dying!"
"I'm not. It looks worse than it is."
"There's so much blood! You're going to need a transfusion! And stitches! What if you become septic? Or go into shock while removing the bullet? Oh my god, there's a bullet in you, Syo! Why were you shot? What kind of buulet was it? Shrapnel's a thing, right? There's no way you can get all the little pieces out yourself, Syo, what are we going to-"
A hand, sturdy and warm, grips his shoulder.
Izuku tears his gaze away from Syo's bloody side to meet Shinsou's.
"Kid-" he starts.
"Midoriya." Syo corrects.
"...Midoriya. Just take us someplace safe for now." His face is surprisingly calm, considering the circumstance, but his violet eyes are sharp. Alert despite the heavy dark circles beneath them. "We can work on the rest when we're not hiding behind a dumpster in a filthy alley."
He's no longer applying pressure to Syo's wound either, so maybe things aren't as bad as Izuku initially thought.
"It's actually quite clean here, considering-"
"Midoriya."
"Right. Sorry." Izuku takes off his tracksuit jacket. "Can you walk? We need to get to the station. We can go to my place."
With Shinsou's help, Syo gets to his feet, bandage still pressed against his bloody side. Izuku ties his jacket around Syo's waist to hide the wound. It looks silly, turned awkwardly to the side, but most people won't question it, hopefully.
Shinsou tries to drape Syo's arm over his shoulders, but Syo just shakes his head. He takes three deep breaths, winces, and forces himself to stand straight. He walks forward, a little slow, but otherwise normal.
"How long can you keep that up?" Shinsou asks.
"At least to the station," Syo says. "As long as we don't stop."
Shinsou nods, keeping close to Syo's injured side without touching him. Izuku bookends Syo's other side.
They make it on the train without incident.
Syo refuses to sit, even though Izuku can see his legs are shaking. Shinsou stands with him, his gaze bouncing between Syo and the other passengers deceivingly slow. He reminds Izuku of a cat feigning disinterest in its prey. They both insist Izuku sit, and they crowd close to him. Shinsou's legs are warm where they press against Izuku's, though he tries to ignore it. It is easier to whisper and be heard this way, he supposes, especially when they bend towards him.
"It's a twenty-minute ride to Musutafu," Izuku says, though he's sure Shinsou and Syo already know this. "My apartment is a fifteen-minute walk, if we're quick." His eyes widen as he suddenly remembers something. "The elevator wasn't working when I left. We might need to take the stairs."
"What floor do you live on?" Shinsou asks.
"The fourth."
"Is there anywhere else we can go?"
"I can make it," Syo interrupts before Izuku can answer.
"Shut up," Shinsou says. "You're almost at your limit, as is. Stairs might actually kill you."
"I can make it." Syo repeats, though a little quieter. Sweat beads along his hairline and Syo's breathing is shallow and quick, like a dog locked in a car on a summer day.
Izuku thinks. There is somewhere else they can try, though it might end up just being a waste of effort if their timing is off. Even if it's not, they're likely to have the door slammed in their faces. He checks the time on his phone. They might barely make it.
Izuku looks up at Syo, whose eye has gone cloudy and distant, and decides immediately.
"Kacchan's house is near the station."