Learning to Trust
"Love is selfless. It is prepared to sacrifice."
-Sadhu Vaswani
Chapter 14: Sacrifice
Toshinori had no idea what time it was when he jerked awake, his body bathed in a cold sweat, nor how long he'd been out. The room was dark and he felt the familiar needles and tubes denoting medical treatment. Was he still at UA or had he been shipped to a hospital? He strained his ears to listen, but other than the soft beep of what he suspected was a heart monitor, he heard no other sound, leading him to believe he was still at UA. He shifted in the bed, noticing that his sheets were soaked with his sweat and tangled around him. He tried to clear his throat, which he found to be raw and raspy. He attempted to inhale but recognized the familiar metallic flavor seconds before the coughing began. He clumsily swiped the oxygen mask off of his face, groping for a towel or some tissues to cough into, so he wouldn't mess up the sheets here. He'd caused Recovery Girl too much extra work as it was since he'd arrived. His fingers flicked the unexpected edge of a bowl on a nearby bedside table with just enough force to cause it, and its contents, to flip off of the table and onto the floor. The thick sounding slosh of its contents splashing against the floor as the light plastic bowl bounced a few times before falling silent announced that he'd made a worse mess than the one he'd been trying to avoid. He winced, coughing into his hand as best he could.
So much for making things easier for her, he thought, frustrated. He was certain now that he knew what had been in the bowl.
Vaguely, his slowly awakening mind remembered Recovery Girl hovering over him, speaking in uncharacteristically warm tones words that he hadn't been able to fully comprehend. There had been other voices, too, both male and female, but no one else had sounded clearly familiar- just an endless blur of voices and time. Then suddenly it sharply reminded him of another time he'd been hospitalized, hooked to numberless tubes and surrounded by alarmed doctors and nurses.
And with that he abruptly remembered the dream that had awakened him.
All for One standing over him, somehow back from the dead. Laughing at him. Mocking him. Shimura Nana lying face down, dead at his feet. All Might struggling to stand but finding it impossible to breathe. Looking down, and expecting to see that gaping hole torn into him, blood and entrails everywhere. But no. Instead he stood fragile and dying in his current rotting body.
A flash of light caught All Might's eye as he struggled to stand. He turned to look and saw Nighteye standing a distance away, adjusting his glasses and shaking his head solemnly. His old friend didn't speak, but All Might could hear his voice anyway, echoing coldly in his head as though from some great distance. "I told you it would come to this. And look at you now. Helpless. Useless."
All Might opened his mouth to respond. To call him back and apologize, but instead he began coughing, his chest heaving with the effort of just breathing. His entire body shaking from the exertion of simply existing. So pathetic...
And All for One laughed.
All Might dropped to one knee as rain began pelting him and the temperature began to plummet. His coughing having completely incapacitated him. His tattered hero suit hanging off of his emaciated frame as All Might continued hacking, desperately clutching his burning side.
When he finally managed to open his eyes again both Nighteye and All for One were gone. Toshinori left with no one but his dead mentor.
Still, he could distantly hear All for One's laughter, as well as Nighteye's disappointed voice whispering in his head, "You've failed. She died because you were too weak."
Was it Nighteye's voice? Or was it Toshinori's own?
Tears of pain and frustration burned in his eyes and ran down his hollow cheeks, mixing with the cold, driving rain as he reached gently for his master's cold form. He turned her over, hoping against hope that she would somehow still be breathing. Willing her to somehow still be alive.
She wasn't.
Toshinori was immediately sick.
The woman wasn't Shimura-sama after all.
It was Midnight.
Even after his fever broke and the nightmares slowed, Toshinori was forcibly kept in the hospital wing for nearly a week. As much as he wanted to argue his case that he was fully capable of getting up and taking care of himself, his body refused to help him out. For one, his lungs were still very weak after his fight with pneumonia, and he was forced to rely on Recovery Girl to help him gradually build up enough strength before he could last a day without needing supplemental oxygen. With the questionable oxygen levels, his heartbeat remained erratic, causing the old woman to worry that he'd have a heart attack.
Neither of them mentioned his psychological state-the nightmares and occasional lapses into paranoia that had plagued him during the worst of his illness-but Toshinori noticed that she had pulled out his PTSD medications and kept them at the ready. She'd wanted to keep him under observation until those subsided as well, but relented on that one when he'd quietly, but firmly pointed out that they wouldn't.
By the time he was given a clean enough bill of health to leave the nurse's station, with the promise that he'd come see her for daily checkups for the next week at least and weekly checkups after that, he was going stir crazy.
What had happened to the citizens of Japan while he'd been gone? Was everyone okay? Had his office tried to contact him? Recovery Girl had powered down his phone and held it hostage while he'd been recovering-motivation for him to follow her directions.
His mind drifted back to his nightmares.
Was Midnight okay?
He had a fuzzy memory of a conversation he thought they'd had shortly after the attack, but by now reality and his dreams had become a bit blurred, and he was concerned. Recovery Girl had simply smiled tightly at him when he'd asked her-more than once-if Kayama had made it out all right, and had repeatedly told him that she was fine, and that he needed to worry more about his own health rather than everyone else's. He wouldn't put it past her, though, to just tell him that to keep him in bed. Until he actually saw Kayama with his own eyes, he couldn't be sure that she hadn't died in the fight with Floodgate as she had in his dreams.
That was why as soon as he was out from under Recovery Girl's sharp eye, he found himself stopping at his office quickly to drop off his box of medications and then making his way as quickly as his body could manage to the staff workroom. He was out of breath by the time he got there, wheezing and trying to ignore the searing pain in his fragile lung, although that was nothing new. He stood a moment at the entrance to the room in order to catch his breath and compose himself before pulling the door open and poking his head in.
It was empty.
He glanced at the clock. Eight o'clock. Of course it was. Every teacher was either in first period or still at home. No one came to school just to sit in the teacher's work room. Idiot, he chided himself, shaking his head, and slipping the rest of the way into the room. He shut the door behind him and walked over to one of the sterile tables and dropped into one of the stiff blue office chairs, not wanting to admit to himself that he was already worn out. It wasn't even the fight, he told himself. Fights he could still handle. But his body took a harder hit every time he got sick.
His brow furrowed and he sighed deeply. This was his living nightmare.
If I fight too hard or too long, I risk losing my grip on One for All. If I get too sick I'm going to lose control of my body. What am I supposed to do? Actually take an office job? He snorted. Not likely. In that case I'll just lose my mind.
He tugged his phone out of his pocket and powered it on for the first time in a week, hoping he hadn't missed anything from his agency. Recovery Girl had assured him that Nezu was checking in with Might Tower for him, their prearranged plan if something were to happen to him.
I just need to fight smart for a year or two, he reminded himself. Find a successor. Doesn't matter what happens to me after that.
Of course he hadn't told Recovery Girl that. She'd have killed him, herself.
A small smile twitched at his lips. Wouldn't Nighteye be surprised if that was how All Might went down? No gruesome death at the hands of a crazed villain. Just beaten to death by an angry old nurse.
The phone finally powered on showing several missed messages. A number were connected to the alerts that had gone out a week ago when Floodgate had attacked. A handful of others were boring business emails sent to all personnel of Might Tower updating him on some dress down Friday potluck that he wasn't going to be there for.
He checked the missed calls.
Six. All from the Minato Police Force.
Tsukauchi had been trying to get in touch with him.
Shit.
There was only one voicemail from the detective, stating nothing more than that Toshi needed to give him a call as soon as he could. That message was from three days ago.
He quickly hit redial. After punching in his friend's extension and listening to some terrible hold music, he was finally patched through to Tsukauchi's office. After three rings, he was told to leave a message.
Toshinori sighed, nervously running his fingers through his messy blond hair. He's probably in the field. He hung up and called his friend's cell phone. He went straight to voicemail. Worried now, he left a terse message. "Naomasa, I'm here. Call me when you get a chance. I'll answer."
He hung up and turned the volume up on his usually silenced ringer to be sure he heard when the detective returned his call, and dropped the phone on the table in front of him.
Something was wrong.
Tsukauchi didn't generally call multiple times like that. Toshi slumped backwards in his chair, crossing his arms thoughtfully. I hope he's all right… He probably just has a lead. Still… usually he leaves more of a message. And usually he answers when I call his cell phone…
He didn't know how long he sat there tapping his fingers restlessly and trying to ignore the temptation to grab his phone again and begin scrolling news stories to see how many attacks he had missed while he'd been hospitalized. How many innocent people had been hurt or afraid because he'd failed to protect them.
"You've failed. She died because you were too weak…"
He gritted his teeth, trying to block out the stubborn remnant from his dream. Holding his head, he pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes. You're losing it, old man. Naomasa's fine. Midnight's fine. Someone would have told you if they weren't. Nezu at least. Probably.
But the truth was that no one would have told him. Nezu and Recovery Girl both knew him too well to risk it. And the rest of them… Well, as far as they were concerned, Yagi was just some office worker from out of town interfering with their work, wasn't he? Why would they tell him anything? And Midnight… Well, he'd as good as lied to her. She had no reason to come to talk with him. He'd probably just dreamed that bizarre karaoke conversation.
He heard the staff door open and then quietly click shut. Quiet footsteps walked partway across the room and then stopped.
Toshinori dropped his hands to his lap and turned to look at the impassive expression of the man standing near the door. It was Aizawa, scrutinizing him silently before finally approaching.
"Yagi. I see you're alive."
Toshinori smiled faintly in response. "More or less." His eyes flicked to his phone. Still nothing. "How's Midnight?"
"She's fine. Angry as a wet cat when she got back, but no lasting damage."
Toshinori let out a deep sigh of relief, and murmured, "That's good," which triggered an interested quirk of Aizawa's eyebrow. Honestly, Toshi couldn't bring himself to care what the man was thinking at the moment. At least that was one fewer person he'd failed.
Aizawa pulled out a chair across from Toshinori and dropped down into it. Rubbing his own eyes tiredly, he studied Toshinori for a moment with an intensity that actually managed to make him squirm a bit. Finally, Aizawa asked, "Have you eaten anything?"
Toshinori groaned. "I'm a grown man, Aizawa. I know how to take care of myself." He flashed a grin at the younger man to soften the comment.
Aizawa's expression didn't change, however. "I somehow doubt that," he replied, tugging a paper out of his pocket and dropping it on the table between them.
Toshinori glanced down at it and then back up at the other man. He didn't need to read it. He knew which doctor used yellow legal pads for everything he wrote, including formal letters of chastisement. "You went through my things," he commented quietly.
Aizawa leaned back, rubbing his red eyes tiredly. The man looked like he hadn't slept in a week. "Not by choice," he finally responded. "Recovery Girl sent me to your apartment to get your medications, so she didn't kill you by accident. You had a pile of medical records and paperwork sitting out. Seemed logical to see what else she might need." He glanced away and scratched at the stubble on his chin, the only sign that he wasn't entirely comfortable in this conversation. "I tried to only read enough to figure out what Recovery Girl could use." He motioned at the paper between them. "This one got to the point pretty quick though," he added. He glanced back at Toshinori, who still sat silent. "You've had arrhythmia for awhile now, I take it."
"Yes."
"And now you have congestive heart failure."
"It's really not important."
Aizawa raised his eyebrow. "Why?"
Toshinori smiled gently at the other man. "It's a long story."
Aizawa's expression didn't change except for a slight narrowing of his eyes. His hands rested on the table in front of him, fingers interlocked. In a low, flat voice, he responded, "Lucky for us my kids are working with Thirteen today. I've got a couple hours to kill. Take all the time you need."
Toshinori shook his head, baffled by this man's insistence. "Fine," he sighed. "The simple answer? I have lots of doctors... lots of people predicting my lifespan. This one says I have five to ten years."
"Only if you take care of yourself. I don't think she'd agree that running out to fight a villain during a storm constitutes taking care of yourself," Aizawa spat out in his annoyance.
Toshinori didn't respond to that, simply learning forward and stating, "Well, I have a more reliable source that says I don't have five years. I have two years at best, and taking care of myself won't make any difference unless I retire completely, and even then it probably won't help much." He began tapping his fingers lightly on the table again in his agitation. Talking about himself really wasn't his strong point.
Aizawa's dark eyes locked with Toshinori's. "Then retire, Yagi. At least you'll give yourself a fighting chance. If you know that fighting is going to kill you, why push yourself? It's irrational."
"I'm a hero, Aizawa, or I was. Do you honestly think I should have let Midnight jump into that fight on her own when it took both Thirteen and Ectoplasm to take Floodgate down last time? I'm in Musutafu for a reason. You of all people know that."
Aizawa scowled at that. "Don't be an ass, Yagi," he snapped. "As much of an idiot as your boss is, he was at least smart enough to mostly relegate you to an office job. He probably sent you to Musutafu because if your villain showed up, we could take care of it. You don't have to kill yourself. Especially not against every lowlife you stumble upon in the streets. You should have left it to us. We were coming."
Toshinori's eyes again drifted to his silent phone, and he said nothing.
"Yagi?"
"And I was already there. Are you saying I should have left a fellow hero to die in a fight that couldn't be won alone? Is that what you would have done?"
Aizawa stood abruptly at those words, a strange look in his eye, startling Toshinori. "I'm done here. Do what you want, Yagi. Just don't get yourself killed on my watch, got it? It was bad enough having to haul medications to Recovery Girl. I don't need to be hauling out your corpse next time."
Before Toshinori could properly answer, his phone suddenly lit up between them, the ringtone loudly announcing, "I AM HERE! I AM HERE!" Toshi grabbed at it in a panic,coughing and trying to cover his mouth while frantically trying to turn off the sound.
The expression on Aizawa's face in that moment was priceless. All of the anger seemed to drain out of him as he just rolled his eyes upward and shook his head. "Of course that's your ringtone," he muttered. "Little old to be a fanboy, aren't you?"
Toshinori ignored that comment. "I'm sorry, Aizawa. I have to take this."
The other man just shook his head, muttering, "Whatever. I give up," before stomping off to the far side of the room to make copies.
Toshinori sighed with relief. As soon as Aizawa was far enough away to be out of earshot, Toshi answered the call.
"Tsukauchi. I'm glad to hear from you. I was worried when you didn't answer."
There was a short pause on the other end of the line before his friend replied in a slightly bemused voice, "You were worried about me? You're the one who didn't answer his phone for a week. You want to tell me what that was about?"
"Later. I promise. But first, why were you calling?"
"Right." Suddenly his friend faded into the background as the skilled detective took the floor. "We have reason to think that your Shifter villain is in the Musutafu area."
Bingo. This was what he'd been expecting since he saw the missed calls. "No activity on your end, Tsukauchi?"
"Nothing. No one going missing. No more bizarre phenomena. But from what I've gathered, three or four people are MIA in the Naruhata area. They disappeared about a week ago. Two more vanished in the past couple of days near UA. It has to be him."
So people were hurt while I was out of commission. Shit.
"Yeah," Toshi murmured absently, his mind skipping several steps ahead. If we want to catch this guy and save the victims, we need to get him into checkmate quick. "Naomasa, I need you to do me a favor."
"Anything… as long as it's legal."
Toshinori had to chuckle at that. "Of course… When have I ever done anything illegal?"
"Do you really want me to answer that? Because the Songbird case immediately comes to mind. I'm still cleaning up after that."
The older man groaned. "Don't bring that up again. It was the right thing to do."
"The right thing to do isn't always legal, Toshi."
The blond grinned at that, some of the tension finally releasing from his shoulders. "All right. All right. Point taken. And for the record, I am sorry I almost got you into trouble."
"You did get me in trouble, Toshi. What you almost got was both of us killed." The detective sighed. "Anyway, it's fine. You're right. It was the right thing to do. So tell me, what do you need this time, Toshi?"
"Can you pull some strings and get me a little information from the Musutafu City police? I have my own reasons to think Shifter is here, too, but there are a few details I need before I can act on it. And they're not going to give one of All Might's office workers access to that information, no matter how high up the chain I am."
"Toshi, you are the chain. You are literally the entire chain at Might Tower. Just… suit up and ask them."
"I can't," Toshinori replied quietly, wincing at the inevitable response this was going to bring. "I probably won't be able to for a few more days, and I'm afraid to wait that long. Who knows how many more people could be hurt by then."
There was a long pause. "Toshinori, what happened? Are you all right?"
"Nothing. It all worked out fine. I'm just a little worn out. Nothing to worry about."
"I'm already worried."
Toshinori smiled gently. "Naomasa, you've got more important things to worry about than me. I promise I'll be fine. I always am. Can you do that for me, though? I just need some intel on a guy that some heroes were fighting near Endeavor's Agency about a week ago."
"What do you need to know?"
"Anything you can get me on him. Every detail. He went by the name Floodgate."
"Floodgate? What makes you think this guy is relevant to the case?"
"Because I also fought Floodgate five miles away at the same time."
"You think the guy they were fighting was the Shifter?"
"One of them was. I just need to figure out which one…"
"Right. I'm on it."
"Thank you, Tsukauchi."
"Sure. Of course... And Toshi?"
"Yeah?"
The professional detective dropped again, leaving only Toshinori's friend. In a soft voice, he said gently, "Take care of yourself, okay? You're at UA. There are other heroes who can take care of this. I don't know what put you out of commission so bad that you couldn't answer your phone for a week, but you need to be careful. No one wants to see you die."
"That isn't true and you know it, Tsukauchi."
"You know what I mean, Toshi. Your life's worth as much as theirs."
Toshinori just sighed. "I've got to go. Thanks again, Naomasa."
"Any time."
Naomasa hung up the phone and stared at the small framed photograph on his desk. It was the only picture he had of Toshinori. Sure, he had several of All Might. All Might had been his favorite hero for years before Naomasa had actually met the man in the flesh. But this picture was of his friend. Quiet, frail, awkward… and impossibly heroic, even now. Even as he was.
He wouldn't admit it to Toshi, because that idiot would take it wrong, but honestly Naomasa had been genuinely afraid when he couldn't reach All Might for a week. Toshi always returned his calls.
And for the first time Naomasa had been forced to realize that one day, Toshi's health might just fail. Or a villain might actually succeed in killing him.
He picked up the photo. Both men were laughing about something. Naomasa's sister Makoto had taken the shot, since she'd joined them that one day before he'd had to drive her to the airport. The best part of the picture had been how genuine Toshi's smile had been. He'd seemed to actually be enjoying the moment for once instead of worrying about everyone else. He'd let himself go that day… just that once.
Naomasa sighed, finally setting the picture down and looking up the number to the Musutafu City Police Force. Toshi, you idiot. You mean more to us alive than dead. Just slow down and take care of yourself. You've sacrificed enough.
Author's Note: A huge thank you to lolo popoki for putting up with the beta work on this one. Not only did she have to listen to me complain about the very rough early versions of this chapter, but she also had to deal with me re-editing it every five minutes for an hour before posting! Thank you so much!
Also, thanks to all of you for reading! I appreciate all of your comments and support.
Sincerely,
Sirius:)
