TRIGGER WARNING(S): Mentioned suicide attempt
The hospital smelled just like it always did - sickly and nauseating.
If he was being honest, he didn't even know why he'd agreed to come.
Tapping his foot irritably against the spotless tile floor, he caught his reflection in a nearby window. His chin rested in his hand, a scowl twisting his face. After a moment, he turned away. The churning in his stomach was so great he couldn't even stand to look at himself.
His father was still speaking with the receptionist, and his mother was sitting, hunched over, in the chair beside him. There was a vacant stare on her face, only a slight furrowing of her brows that belied the troubled thoughts inside, one that unnerved the fifteen-year-old horribly.
The emergency call at four in the morning was not what any of them were expecting - his father had immediately gotten up and hadn't bothered to explain what was happening to Katsuki, just insisted - with uncharacteristic seriousness - that he should get dressed and come to the hospital.
The sober look on his mother's face, and the horror on his father's, were enough to make him shut his mouth and obey. He'd never seen him look so afraid.
He stifled another yawn into the palm of his hand, checking his watch with a quiet growl that rippled deep in his throat. It was only eight after five.
How much longer were they going to wait here? What were they waiting for?
Finally, his father gestured to the both of them, and his mother nudged his arm as she moved to stand.
He stretched out his arms, yawning wider into the crook of his arm. Following silently behind his mother, he could barely hear them speaking in hushed tones ahead of him. Every few words his mother would chime in with a tone of stunned disbelief, and his father would reply in such a sad voice that for a moment, he thought they'd been called to the hospital because of someone's death.
A nagging thought tugged at the back of his brain, yet he forcefully shoved it back down. Deku's hopeless, vacant stare and the downturn of his mouth entered his mind's eye, but he steadfastly ignored it.
Deku wouldn't dare. He's a coward. He wouldn't even hurt a fly, much less himself.
The elevator ride up to the eighth floor seemed to be the longest ten seconds of his life.
Katsuki folded his arms across his chest, the chill of the hospital corridors making him shiver despite himself. I should've brought a thicker coat.
January was a cruel month indeed, and it seemed ever crueler in the dead of night. The sky was only beginning to color with warmth, the moon hanging low in the sky as the stars seemed to fizzle out into nothingness.
Now his parents had fallen silent. His mother gripped his father's hand tightly, and he seemed to reciprocate with just as much intensity. The troubled stare he held had only deepened as he gazed up at the passing numbers on the screen above.
He almost contemplated asking him which one of their relatives had died.
But then their eyes locked for the briefest of seconds, and for a moment, he swore he saw something even more troubled flicker by.
His father looked away, his shoulders hunched, and Katsuki couldn't help but feel as if he'd done something wrong.
The elevator let out a pleasant chime and the doors opened, revealing a bland hallway the exact same as every other one before it.
It was quiet, almost unnervingly so as the little family of three shuffled out of the space and into the wider white hall.
The board near the elevator read Trauma Intensive Care Unit. A shiver went down his spine once more, though it wasn't from the cold. Who had been hurt?
As they passed room after room, he found himself wondering again who they were meant to see. He glanced into each window, finding nothing but a white privacy curtain blocking his view of the occupants within.
His father murmured to himself, glancing down at the card he'd been given. His mother rubbed his knuckles with her thumb, something she'd always done when the man was upset and she couldn't comfort him.
Finally, his father stopped short at the end of the hall. He looked up at the doorplate of the room beside them, then back to the card. Then he said, "This is the one."
Finally. An answer.
He followed his parents in, not expecting what to find.
The inside of room 838 was awash with activity. Beeping from the many machines beside the bed greeted his ears as they entered, followed by the steady pffff, pffff of another. The room itself was quiet save for the noise, and the very first face to greet them was that of a short, stout woman in a bedside chair, her face splotchy and her stance exhausted.
Mrs. Midoriya looked a mess. Her hair was unruly and greasy, her eyes, usually so wide and sweet, were now weighed down with bags and dark circles, and her full cheeks were red with tear stains.
Katsuki stopped cold in his tracks.
The person in the bed next to her was almost unrecognizable. Had it not been for the freckles dotting his face, as well as the short stature of the figure, he never would have believed his own eyes.
His father immediately went to the little woman, and as she raised her free arm he wrapped his around her middle, resting his chin on the back of her neck. His mother reached out to hold her hand, her crimson eyes soft with worry.
Mrs. Midoriya's bottom lip trembled, and as she blinked fresh tears gathered in the corners of her weary eyes.
"I didn't know who else to call," she quietly explained, voice wobbling and cracking with emotion as she pet her son's unresponsive hand. "Hisashi's... he's in America right now, and my parents live on the other side of the country..."
"I'm glad you called," his father replied, squeezing her for a second before letting go.
Katsuki couldn't drag his eyes away from the frail figure in the bed, his broken body mercifully covered with a sheet. From what he could see of his face, there was a growing bruise around one side. His head was bandaged tight; no hint of irritating green curls could be seen.
What had happened to Deku?
"I just... I didn't... know what else to do," she continued to stutter, looking away from the couple as she took a shuddering breath. "He wasn't breathing when I found him, and I'm... my quirk isn't strong enough to..."
"It's okay, Inko," his mother spoke up next, and as her husband moved away she took the smaller woman's hand tight in her own. Her slender fingers curled around Mrs. Midoriya's, enveloping it almost entirely. "I'm sorry."
"I don't ever want to have to see my baby like that again," she finished, and as her words hung in the room she leaned over the bed and began to sob.
His father locked eyes with him over her hunched-over figure, and all at once he seemed to understand.
Katsuki's heart panged in his chest, and as he looked from his father to his mother, back to the body in the bed, he knew.
Deku actually did it.
He jumped.