Morse looked absolutely terrified and Izuku wished his first contact with her could be calmer, friendlier. Softer, even. But the alarm was still blaring and they were running out of time, leaving them with very little chance for formalities.
"Morse, is it safe to step inside your cell?" Izuku asked authoritatively—Midoriya Izuku being anything but a puppy with a girl he just met, who would have guessed—because he wasn't dumb enough to just rush into a cell that was clearly different and higher security than the others.
Morse was still squinting, clearly not a fan of the light, but she nodded her head as she furiously tapped at the restraint around her neck.
"What's the thing around your neck?" Hara asked, lagging behind Izuku as the teen stepped into the small space. He glanced at the chain connecting her to the wall and swallowed.
"Do you know what this does? How to take it off?" Izuku asked hurriedly. Morse shook her head, murmuring a string of 'no's that sounded confused and childish. She tugged at her restraint weakly but Izuku doubted even full strength would do much against metal encrusted in concrete. Hara cursed again, his footsteps echoing down the hall and towards the white room.
"Move your hair back," Izuku instructed, wincing at how much worse this poor girl looked up close. Her skin was paper-thin and her hair was matted to the point where it was clumped into large units that seemed inseparable. His ears burned red under his hair, his youngest side feeling very ashamed at noting the negative aspects of a girl's appearance. Somewhere far away, he could feel Stain rolling his eyes.
He shook his head violently, attempting to get a look at the contraption. It seemed simple enough, perhaps even a little too simple for his liking; there were no visible wires, screws, or switches of any kind. Just those two mocking lights at the front and two very thin, long indentations on each side of the collar, probably where the whole thing could be taken apart. But with what? There was no apparent hole where anything resembling a key to unlock it. Unless…
"Shit…"
This wasn't designed to come off. But why?
Think, think. She's been here for a long time and her cell is more secure than the rest. She's valuable enough to keep but not enough to take with? Or maybe she's only valuable here. But why? Why this one cell in particular?
Green eyes scanned the cell once more, tiny details about Morse's day to day barely registering in the back of his mind, more like items in a list rather than pieces of narrative; pieces of cloth in a corner topped by a ball of worn colorful thread, a pile of little stones in another, scribbling all over the walls in what seemed like small clusters of words. The electric lock still hanging from the door, the chain, and then–
Izuku felt his stomach both lurching up his throat and sinking to his feet.
A microphone is secured to the roof like a lightbulb would be, a protecting casing covered in felt for sound quality encasing it.
Green eyes traveled down and met with frantic pink ones, Morse's knowing gaze sending shivers down his spine.
"Morse, what does your quirk do?" Izuku asked with an audible crack in his voice. She looked at Izuku with nothing short of anguish and she covered her mouth with both hands.
A plastic container crashed on the floor at their feet, making them both jump in surprise. Multiple tools and appliances, most metal, came stumbling out and Morse had to actively move her foot so that a scalpel wouldn't poke her. Hara kneeled on the floor, frantic.
"We gotta cut her free, right now."
Izuku wanted nothing more than that, but–
"We can't just cut what might be a live wire!"
"What the fuck do you suggest we do, then?!" Hara bit, shoving useless instruments aside in a desperate search to find something useful amongst some of the very things that were used to torture them both.
Izuku only hesitated for a fraction of a second. Ideas sparked and died in his mind at the speed of light and, had he not been so pressed for time, he might have allowed himself to mutter them all out. Cutting the power was the safest bet, but Izuku had taken the stairs that led down here three times now and he'd seen no fuse box anywhere. Their only option was to break, cut, or snap one of the things keeping Morse captured. The wall was concrete and they had no idea how far the cable or the chain went on, even if Izuku suspected that they were connected to whatever had those two lights by the floor. Cutting the wire could get them all killed by electrocution, even if the protective gear was available to them, which it wasn't. Snapping the chain left them with the wire regardless. Their only viable option was snapping the collar. There were thousands of risks, most of which landed solely on Morse, but–
Just then the alarm told them that they had a minute—a singular fucking minute—left before the mysterious protocol activated. Morse gripped Izuku's wrist and his entire being snapped into overdrive.
"Morse, we're gonna have to shoot the collar, okay?"
Hara's eyes closed momentarily in a wince, fists closing so hard that the place where his right ring finger used to be started bleeding. Morse's other hand flew to her neck on instinct, entire body shaking. She somehow looked paler than before and Izuku had to fight back the urge to comfort her fully, tell her that they'll find a safer way, that nothing will happen to her. But it was obvious that she knew there was no time for such comforts, her eyes darting to the little lights that, by this point, have started blinking on the wall. The bulbs on her collar also flashed, faster with every passing second, and Izuku swallowed hard. Hara stood, gun in hand, and Morse whimpered. She tugged at the chain in one last-ditch attempt at breaking herself free and Izuku felt his heart shatter.
"It's the only way," Izuku said, guilt flooding his brain. Is he being honest or is he pushing her to make a choice? Is he actually giving her any type of choice when Hara is already looking set on the idea? Morse's tears seemed to tell him otherwise but the girl nodded regardless, trust and terror swirling in her eyes.
They moved in panicked quickness. Morse pulled her matted hair away from her neck, using it to hide her face as she let out a tiny sob. Izuku gave the restraint one final look, frustrated that there was no clear point to really snap the collar open. Not only that, not being able to shoot the cable without risking electrocuting them all, they're left with only one place to maybe—fucking maybe—get the thing off without killing the poor girl in the process.
"I'll point away from your face, okay? You're gonna be fine," Hara offered, and, to his credit, he sounded amazingly confident. The only thing that betrayed him was the look he gave Izuku when Morse nodded wordlessly.
"There's no lock to shoot, is there?" Hara whispered and Izuku trembled out of anxiety. But he swallowed it, already moving.
"It connects on the sides, so it's a two-piece thing. If you aim downwards, front to back, and she turns the other way then you minimize the chance of… You won't hit anything, that way." Izuku ended. He wanted to correct himself out of habit, wanted to add that he wasn't actually sure, but the lights by Morse's neck were blinking on and off at an absurd speed and the minute was probably already almost over and there's no time anymore just do it. Thankfully Hara didn't have to be told twice and steadied his breath. Izuku grabbed Morse by the shoulders, begging her to either sit or kneel so that Hara would have an easier time with it and the girl's legs all but give way. He wrapped his arm around her head and pulled her in as much as he could, letting her hide her face in his shoulder as he took over holding her hair. When Hara took aim, hands steady as a rock, the back end of the gun ended up harshly pressed against Morse's jaw so that the barrel is aimed as far away from her neck as possible. Izuku covered her ears with his hands, nodded at Hara, and then held his breath. His eyes closed right before the shot rang out and it's all he could do to keep himself from jumping.
Morse flinched, pushing against Izuku with all her might, but the young man managed to keep them both in place. The back piece of the collar bent away from Morse's skin and Izuku's hand was moving to pry the whole thing off in an instant. The metal was hot from the explosion and Morse was screaming. The back piece all but ripped apart and Izuku chucked the whole thing away from them. It slammed against the wall almost as loud as the gunshot itself and Hara pulled them both towards the other side of the cell, all three landing on a pile on the floor. Izuku's disoriented, the ear that had gotten back to normal ringing violently once again. He was thankfully not deaf, Morse's violent wailing and the sound of the alarm still going, breaking through the pain. His vision was still spinning when their 60 seconds ran out, their only heads up being the change in the alarm's pitch—from doomsday-like to high pitched. There was a fraction of a second of silence afterward, the calm before the storm, and Izuku braced for impact by holding onto the other two people with him, two hands holding onto his clothes.
Then there was a tiny clicking noise somewhere under him, followed by an electric buzzing not far away.
The feeling took over him immediately. It's the same sensation you get when you're at a concert or a club when the speakers get your whole chest vibrating to the beat of the music. His back straightened uncomfortably and both his eyes watered, gasping breaths shaking his whole ribcage and muscles in his arms and legs tensing as if he was getting electrocuted. He tried to understand, tried to figure out what exactly was happening, but his mind was still reeling from the gunshot going off next to his head. Morse was trembling beneath him, Hara even more so, and Izuku pushed himself into a sitting position. There was a light inside the cell flashing at an errant speed and everything looked like it's in slow-motion.
"Hara?!" He screamed out over Morse's pained crying. He reached for the other man, tugging at his shirt when he got no response. Hara was convulsing, eyes rolled into the back of his head, and muscles rigid to the point of shaking. Morse let out another heartwrenching, all-encompassing cry, and Izuku's jaw tensed so suddenly that he bit his tongue. He's amazed by how loud her crying is, the sound almost too much for him even though he was mostly deaf at the moment. And then it clicked, his mind and sight fully settling.
He grabbed Morse's shoulder, words caught behind his locked jaw, but that only got her to cry even more hysterically. Even when she's bravely covering her mouth with her hands, the sound echoes over the speakers and Izuku's vision flashes white. She pushed herself away and his hand is left not only covered in blood but also clenching part of the quirk restraining vest that used to be secured around her. She was having a full-blown panic attack, there's no way she was gonna listen to him.
He never had the fortune of learning how to control a messy quirk. He'd heard things, superficially saw his classmates deal with such distress back when he was a child, but he had no real way of understanding. Quirks had always been such wonderful gifts in his eyes that the very idea that they could bring misfortune was alien to him a few years back. Toga and Dabi had given him a very sobering look at reality, but this?
This made him thankful to be quirkless.
He attempted to get her to look at him, to stop panicking, but she's past all reason. She was in pain and scared and God knows what else and her attempts at quieting herself were failing regardless of how kind her intentions were.
"I'm sorry," He grunted past clenched teeth, grabbing Morse's shirt firmly, pulling her towards him with all his strength, and landing a punch on her stomach. Her crying jarringly morphed into a choked gasp, all air completely leaving her. Her eyes were wide and confused, and Izuku gave her the most apologetic look he could. He threw himself past her to grab one of the pieces of cloth in the corner of the cell while Morse coughed and sputtered. He felt absolutely horrid hearing her wheeze, but the moment she managed to inhale a large mouthful of oxygen, Izuku shoved a bundled piece of fabric into her mouth.
"Morse, you're fine," He gasped, blood in his mouth. "You're okay, everything's fine, just calm down."
He knew he was lying. Her neck was bleeding and the smell of burnt flesh and hair was thick in the air but he had nothing else he could say. Her eyes were closed tight and Hara was still on the ground, unmoving now.
"Look at me, just look me in the eye, okay?" She places both her hands over Izuku's, trying to tear him off, and her tears are running over his hands. Izuku feels like the scum of the Earth. "Morse, look at me, please, please–"
She slapped him, freeing herself from his grasp for a moment. Hot panic surged in him, but Morse quickly replaces his hands with her own before curling in on herself.
"Morse," He was scared that he's hurt her too badly, but he's too guilt-ridden to properly check on her. He felt tears stinging his eyes. "Morse?"
"It's the lights," Hara sounded 50 years older and he looks even worse. "She hates them."
He didn't need to be told twice. Even when he felt like he was gonna pass out at any second, he took a metal tube with a rubber handle out of the things on the ground, got up, and smashed the strips of LEDs surrounding the microphone in the ceiling. He also whacked the microphone a few times for good measure, though he doubted he actually broke it past its little barrier.
Hara ripped off the curtain at the door and used it to cover Morse, her hand firmly grasping his.
"It's okay, you're okay. We're all alive." The gentle murmurs weren't aimed at him but Izuku still found comfort in the voice. If he closed his eyes, he could pretend like they were all still in their cells, eating and unharmed. Or, well, less harmed. But also prisoners.
The last few weeks have been rough, okay?
He slid down the wall, watching as Hara tended to Morse's neck carefully. The gunshot clearly burnt her and there was blood all over her shirt, but she's alive and no longer bound to the wall. Hara was gentle both in demeanor and speed, a soft side that Izuku doubted most people in his line of work get to see. He couldn't do anything other than tap the floor with his foot. The one thing he wanted right then was a shower and a hug. Morse whimpered behind her gag and Izuku forced his eyes away, landing on his own cell, a dark little cubicle that looked somewhat surreal from across the hall. He'd grown used to the size and layout of the thing with time but from the outside, the empty space looked too small to even consider it storage space. How long was he in there? Did he really have enough space to lay down? Is he that short? It's hard to tell, maybe his eyes were playing tricks on him. Maybe the dark shadow in the corner was taking too much space now, finally able to extend to its full size without Izuku there.
Maybe he's gone absolutely insane, he considers as the shadow tilts its head and Izuku mimics like a child.
"You…" A shiver ran up his spine and he had to make absolutely sure that he was not speaking above a whisper. "You can come with us. Get out of here, if you'd like,"
No response, as per usual, though he interpreted it as a polite decline to the offer. Very respectable.
It could have been a minute or an hour before Hara actually spoke to him.
"You good?"
"I wouldn't use that word, no," There wasn't even an ounce of humor in his voice. "You?"
"Been better," Hara coughed as if to reiterate the point. He spat on the ground and wiped his mouth and Izuku realized that there was puke all over Hara's shirt. Izuku wouldn't consider himself a believer at this point in his life, but he still thanked the heavens that the yakuza man hadn't choked and died while seizing. He hadn't moved very far from where he'd initially fallen though, all three of them pretty much in the same pile as before.
"I…" Izuku bit his lip, "I'm sorry."
Hara just kinda narrowed his eyes in confusion and Izuku's eyes flicked towards Morse. The restraining vest was back around her chest and she was holding the curtain around herself tightly as if the improvised cape is the only thing keeping her safe. In her hands in the colorful knot of thread and fabric that used to be in the corner.
"You're so soft," Hara teased, though he sounded just as humorless as Izuku. "We did what we had to,"
When Izuku didn't really respond, Hara mustered up all of his strength to point his chin at the chain on the ground.
"It could have been a lot worse for everyone,"
Izuku's functional ear was still ringing and so he had to really focus to realize that the soft electric humming he'd heard right before all hell broke loose was still going off. It was coming from the base of the metal collar, a part that hadn't been blown off by the gunshot, and Izuku tentatively poked the metal; sure enough, the thing shocked him badly.
He felt so angry, that a small surge of energy came back to him. He remembered Hara telling him that Morse had been there for much, much longer than anyone else, how viscerally upset she would get whenever one other prisoner died, how much she worried about them being alive and safe. And all that time she'd just been down here kept as a fucking failsafe in case something didn't go according to plan. As an object that would serve a function and nothing else, all because of her quirk.
"This place is a fucking farce," He said through gritted teeth. Morse sniffled loudly and Izuku had to forcefully calm down so that he wouldn't upset her any more than she already was. He only allowed himself the momentary pleasure of starting his own personal list of future targets before he tried to focus his attention on something else.
He came back to the scribbles littered all across the cell walls, something he hadn't had time to properly assess before. At first glance, they looked like gibberish, just kanji everywhere in all types of sizes and directions. For a long moment, he only managed to read each kanji on its own, just separate noises and syllables that didn't quite seem to fit with one another, but then…
He read the first word without even realizing that it was a name, but he went back with a frown and actually sounded it out aloud.
Hara Yukio.
"What?" Hara asked and Izuku exhaled brokenly. At that point, he just wanted to cry like a kid because there were enough scribbles to maybe write out another 50 names, his own amongst them no doubt. But the tears just wouldn't come out, his eyes didn't even water, and he was just left with a broken feeling in his chest. He looked down at Morse's covered figure and noticed that she was peeking at him from under her protective cloak. She looked scared, though it didn't seem to be aimed at him. She deserved so much more than this retched world had given her and he wanted to scream, but he settled for smiling at her.
He knew something was off before he heard the echo of steps coming down the metal stairs because Hara tensed next to him. It was just a faint sound, too faint for Izuku to really discern in his condition, but it was clearly coming closer to them. His jaw trembled and his arms shook, but he hesitated. Hara was giving him a solemn, desperate look and Izuku had to swallow a whimper.
The alarm had stopped and he'd managed to silence Morse, so the speakers had been completely mute for a long time by now. They had to know that something had gone wrong with their security protocol, of course, they'd send someone to check out what had happened. Why hadn't they moved? Why hadn't they stumbled out into the parking lot or the lobby together just like they'd said they would? Hara shook his head miserably and Izuku was forced to face the reality that they just couldn't have done any of that. No matter how optimistic he was, how much he tried to come up with solutions for all their problems, it just didn't take away the fact that they were too spent to even do anything else.
Izuku let out a choked laugh while Morse hid her face. Hara nodded at him with a bittersweet expression, no words escaping his parted lips. Izuku cracked at the sight. It wasn't a sacrifice of any type, he wasn't giving them an opening that they could use in their state, but he still wanted to at least try. And so, as the steps grew louder and louder, Izuku grabbed a scalpel from the floor and used all of his strength to push his miserable body off the ground. His knees gave way almost immediately and his face slammed against the wall, but he didn't go down. His feet were surrounded by a crazy array of metal instruments that hadn't been used in Morse's release, but he was too tired to fully accomplish a stealthy approach. He was too tired to do most things other than breath, to be fair.
The steps stopped at the door and Izuku's frame tensed. It was all subconscious, the way he widened his stance and straightened his back to prepare for a surprise attack, all as natural as rain. He looked just like Stain, a truth that no one could properly witness at the moment. It still happened, though.
The door was pushed open and someone made their way inside. Izuku inhaled slowly and made eye contact with the shadow across the hall. It seemed to push him forward, giving him an extra ounce of strength. The moment someone came into view, Izuku lunged. He grabbed the person's wrist and pulled, striking with his empty hand. The hit got redirected to the side but Izuku struck the lower abdomen with his knee. Upon contact, he curled in on himself and brought down the scalpel upon his foe's shoulder with all his might. The blade dug into flesh just as he got pushed against the wall with a dry thud. The universe went from spinning to frozen in time and Izuku's breathing came out in a ragged gasp. No more than three seconds had passed in total and Izuku knew that if he stopped then he wouldn't be able to move again, so he tried to strike again. His wrist got caught immediately and the scalpel fell out of his hand and he knew that he was done for.
"Not bad, kid."
The voice had been imaginary not an hour before that. It'd been a coping mechanism to keep himself moving and trying to survive. He'd made it all up, in his cell and in the elevator because it was all just too much for him and he didn't know what else to do. It was fake. But he couldn't make up the hand firmly grabbing his wrist, the black eyes looking at him with genuine pride, the shaky smile, and voice, or the hug he was pulled into.
And suddenly Izuku didn't need to pretend anymore.