Sorry, this isn't the finale chapter! Just a short transition. Next chapter though…. Next one for sure….
There are blood stains on the floor of the bathroom. It started as only one, but they keep increasing the longer he spends locked away in there. Every time Chizome comes home, he lets him out, and they train and they train and they train until Izuku can't stand anymore. Sharp rocks hidden in the grass cut the bare soles of his feet and the weapons he wields make his hands bleed after so long spent clutching and swinging and throwing and missing and trying again and again until he perfects it. Before he goes back to town, Chizome opens a fresh wound on his arm or his leg, fills his flask, and then leaves Izuku to rot again. It feels like he's always bleeding these days.
Izuku has spent so much time staring at the bloodstains. They won't come out, no matter how hard he scrubs at them, but Nikko likes to curl up beside him while he's cleaning so he keeps trying anyway. He feels dizzy now, staring at the one a few centimeters from his nose as he lays crumpled on the floor, trying to remind his lungs and his throat to keep breathing as he waits for Chizome's quirk to wear off.
He only really uses it now when he's coming back or leaving. It's as good a gauge as any to know when Chizome is on his way to the cabin, Izuku supposes. A bright side, if he's really determined to find one.
The door bursts open at almost the same time that Izuku's muscles release from their painful freeze. He gasps for breath and curls into a ball, shuddering as his body fights to regain control of its motor functions. He'd bitten his lip when he'd collapsed. The taste of blood fills his mouth and he swallows a few times, not yet strong enough to stand and spit it into the sink.
"Get up," Chizome says, and though his voice is rough and tinged with something that scares Izuku, his hands are gentle as he grabs him and hoists him to his feet. "Gather your things and start cleaning. We're leaving. Tonight."
Izuku fights to focus his dry eyes, and Chizome's face finally comes into view. His eyes are burning, the red irises almost glowing from within the sunken hollows of his sockets. Izuku swallows hard, heart hammering away inside his chest as Chizome stares at him with a frightening intensity.
"Okay," Izuku rasps once he realizes that Chizome is waiting for a response. "What happened?"
Chizome releases him and steps back, running a hand through his hair and heaving a sigh. He's jittery. His eyes sweep the cabin restlessly, pupils shrunk to pinpricks, tongue darting out again and again to wet his lips. Izuku's heart is beating so fast it's making him feel a little dizzy.
"Someone's on to us," he says at last. Izuku bristles at how vague he's being, but at least the panic in Chizome's eyes makes more sense now. "They've been trying to follow me back here. I thought they'd give up after a while, but the bastard's persistent. It's only a matter of time before they succeed."
"Who?" Izuku demands, trying to keep his tone firm and confident despite the way the word breaks on its way out of his dry throat. Chizome doesn't answer, having already turned away to begin gathering anything within easy reach.
Izuku watches him silently. Exhaustion drags at his limbs, making each bone feel like it weighs a few hundred pounds. He wants to sleep in a bed. He wishes he could remember what kind of sheets his mama used to put on his bed when he was little. He wishes his All Might quilt hadn't gone up in flames when Chizome had burned their old apartment to ashes.
"I'm going to sleep in the car," he warns as he walks past Chizome to the kitchen. His legs feel a little shaky, but he does his best to push through it. Chizome's head turns to follow him, his gaze feeling like needles boring into his skin, but Izuku pretends not to notice. "I don't want to be all tied up this time. I'll hide under the blanket if you want me to, but I want to be comfy so I can take a nap."
"Okay," Chizome says easily. Izuku breathes a silent sigh of relief as he kneels to search beneath the sink, pulling out every cleaning tool, rubber glove, and spare sponge tucked away beneath it. Nikko sticks her head into the cabinet, nose twitching curiously and ears partially pinned back. Izuku shoos her away.
"We're out of bleach," he announces, trying to ignore the prickling along his spine that tells him that Chizome is still watching him like a hawk after a bunny. His body is aching and he feels the muscles in his legs trembling as he rises from his crouch. He hopes it isn't too obvious; Chizome's been so unpredictable, and the last thing he needs is for him to decide that it's a sign of weakness that needs to be trained out of him right this moment. Or worse, think that Izuku is scared of being found and start babying him. That would probably just mean whoever's coming after them winds up dead and Izuku gets put back in solitary confinement with nothing to do. "I can just use a rag and dish soap, I guess."
Chizome sighs, long and deep and controlled, like he does when Izuku has said some fundamentally wrong but ultimately inconsequential thing. The rag he's holding is wrung between trembling hands, tighter and tighter until the scrape of rough material against his blisters and scabs becomes too much. The blue of the rag is stained with dark streaks of blood now, and Izuku worries at his lower lip and hopes that Chizome won't notice. It's no big deal. They've got plenty of rags. It's fine.
He tucks the soiled rag behind his back, out of sight.
"We probably don't have enough hydrogen peroxide to clean the mess in the bathroom, right?" Chizome asks, eyes squeezing shut, mouth going terse with what Izuku can guess is an oncoming headache. He seems fractured today, like the stress of the situation is too much for him to think straight around. Izuku's stomach hurts.
"No. We ran out last week. No bleach, baking soda, or lemon juice either."
"Right. Okay. Unless we want to burn this place down, I guess I'd better go to the store."
"I think burning it down would just draw more attention," Izuku mumbles, trying not to let how much he wants to roll his eyes be too apparent in his tone. Or how much the mere suggestion makes him sick.
"Yeah, kid. You're right." Chizome's voice is soft, and as he passes behind Izuku the hand that ruffles his hair is gentle. It takes everything he has not to flinch away from the touch.
.
Tatsui is not a patient man, which means that the last three weeks of staking this asshole's apartment out have been just short of torturous. He was boring in his predictability, and extremely frustrating in how he always managed to lose Tatsui's company-issued vehicle during his days off of work. It's an unmarked model. Nothing fancy, but maybe a bit better maintained than most vehicles seen around town. It's nothing that should draw any attention, which of course makes it even more suspicious that Yamada's managed to lose him every time. That was what had finally clued him in to the fact that the asshole definitely knew he was being followed at this point, and recognized the car.
Luckily he has a friend who had agreed to loan him his old piece of shit car in exchange for borrowing his nicer company vehicle. Tatsui's ass will be on the line if his boss ever finds out, but it was worth it, because he's finally gotten close enough to find where his suspect's hideout is.
He grins as he watches the familiar car turn onto a small dirt driveway tucked away in the countryside a few kilometers outside town, the entrance almost hidden by overgrowth. Tatsui passes by and parks on the side of the road a ways ahead, waiting fifteen minutes before turning back around to find the driveway again. He follows it until he finds the small, piece of shit cabin tucked into a clearing at the end of the drive. Yamada's equally shitty car is parked close by.
Tatsui grins to himself as he pulls his car off the dirt drive and into the surrounding trees, hidden away from any wandering eyes but still able to keep the front door and the car in view. From there, it's only a matter of time. Once that asshole leaves again for his next shift, he'll be free to search the hideout for any evidence he might need to make his case against him.
As it turns out, though, he doesn't have to wait very long at all. Tatsui curses under his breath and slinks further down into his seat as the slam of the front door echoes through the trees. He can feel his blood pounding in his head, and his heart racing as he considers how much could go wrong if he's caught. If his theory is wrong and he's caught spying on a civilian, his job will be on the line. On the other hand, if he's right about this guy being the villain who took down Ingenium, it will mean a fight. If he's spotted now, he's screwed either way.
He watches Yamada as he strides to his car. In the perceived privacy of the forest, the man moves like a predator: graceful, strong, and confident. It's strange to see him in an environment where he doesn't know he's being observed. He seems like a completely different person than the quiet, fumbling idiot that he presents himself as in town. The difference only further cements in Tatsui's mind that he's onto something big.
Yamada pauses for only one brief moment as he gets to the car. His eyes sweep the treeline, and Tatsui holds his breath, waiting for the man to see him and come storming over. The thought of him pulling a cell phone to report Tatsui to the police or his superior is almost more frightening than the threat of him pulling a knife. At least with a weapon, Tatsui's suspicions would have merit and his quirk would be useful.
In the end, he's able to relax a little bit as his douchebag suspect climbs into his car and drives away. What he could have on his agenda so soon after getting to his hideout, Tatsui has no idea. He doesn't care, either. He's found the cabin, and its occupant is gone; he's not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. This is his chance to search the house for evidence, and he refuses to squander it.
Sorry for the long long wait. This part was giving me so much writer's block, so I decided that after almost seven months of staring daggers at it, I should just post it as its own chapter to rid myself of it. So here, have this most hated of chapter. Tell me in the comments how much you hate it.
(i'll admit it also took me so long bc I got sucked into ROTTMNT hyperfixation hell, so if you like turtle mutants who are also teens and ninjas, I wrote like…a dozen stories for them you might like….)
Thank you, as always, to the wonderful and amazing and spectacular and endlessly patient Shae, who is the main reason this hiatus wasn't significantly longer.
And another special shoutout to everyone who's left comments. You guys are the main reason this story is continuing at all. Give it up for six years!