Trigger Warning:
- attempted rape
- mention of PTSD
- mention of depression
- physical beating
- blood
Today was the day.
Two months had passed since that walk at the beach.
Izuku did not think of Uraraka in a romantic sense anymore.
Katsuki had seen enough proof of that.
She insisted that their relationship remain platonic; Izuku was respectful of that. Two months was enough time for him to accept and move on from the rejection. Meeting Furukawa was part of that.
To anyone else, it would have seemed like he was treating her as a rebound. Even Katsuki thought that was Izuku's motives and was horrified. But that was not how Izuku saw her. She was a friend, and someone he was interested in romantically. He acknowledged that it was too soon to say that he was in love. But he liked Furukawa. He wished to date her, and if it worked out, maybe the liking would evolve into love.
When Katsuki learned of the many messages and phone calls that occurred between the two of them, he suggested to Izuku to confess. "Don't just tell her out of the blue. Set up a date, arrange a nice dinner, and make her feel more special than she already is." Izuku was reluctant to do so at first because he did not want to risk endangering their friendship. After being dumped, he and Uraraka barely talked to one another. It was simply too awkward.
However, Katsuki encouraged him. Although he would never admit it, he wished for his ally to find happiness.
Fighting so many wars and losing so many lives, he had seen the toll it had taken on Izuku. On them both. While Katsuki managed to find some modicum of joy in his hobbies, it was not the same for his dear comrade. Izuku was diagnosed with PTSD and depression. Initially, it was rough, watching someone close to him fight a battle with himself.
They say that in times of war, people can form the most unshakeable of bonds with each other. Katsuki believed in that statement to some extent. He never left Izuku to fend for himself. Being the only other person besides Izuku and All Might to have in-depth knowledge of One For All, he made time to listen to him. Even if Izuku's comments sometimes incited his own traumatic memories, he kept his mouth closed.
But there were some things that even he - a witness to his companion's past - could not bridge.
He hoped that this Furukawa girl could achieve what he could not do.
So here he was sitting on one of the stools in the mall's dressing room, convincing him to man up and communicate his feelings to her. Both of them were initially here to shop for professional wear, but somehow it turned into a fashion show, where Katsuki decided which outfit was the most date-worthy on Izuku.
"Oi! Tell me something. Were you this nervous when you confessed to Uraraka?" he exclaimed.
Izuku paused in his movements, his chartreuse shirt half-buttoned. Katsuki insisted he wear the shirt in front of him, so he could determine if it matched the coffee brown trousers. The trousers had to stay, said his fashion sense. Izuku seemed to consider the question. "I think I was more anxious, actually," he replied. "I failed to confess to her twice before."
Katsuki shook his head, a silent command to remove the shirt. Its brightness clashed with the subdued tone of the pants. Absolutely hideous, was his reasoning. He tossed a more pastel colored shirt to Izuku. Mint green. "That's funny," he remarked on his ally's anxiety. "Was it because you stammered utter nonsense? Anyway, if you were nervous then, then you should feel brave now."
"That's not how it works!"
Izuku threw the chartreuse article of clothing at Katsuki's face.
"You've already been turned down once! You pulled through. If Furukawa rejects you, too, you will survive."
"What if our friendship becomes strained?"
Katsuki huffed, "That's the part where you dig up your guts from wherever the hell they're buried inside you. I get that the confession may go either way, but if you're serious about her, you should be willing to take a risk." Then, he admired the new combination of clothes. The color was perfect. Considering the fact that Izuku remembered to tuck in the shirt hem, too, any girl would find it irresistible. "Keep the mint green one. It looks better."
Izuku let out an exasperated sigh. He relented at last. Tomorrow, after class - he decided - he would reveal his feelings to Furukawa.
As he removed the new shirt, he asked, "What should I do if she says yes?"
Katsuki took it from him and began folding it properly. "If she says yes, then hooray. Enjoy the date. All that overly sweet, disgusting couple stuff. When you get back, make sure you bring spicy takeout. If she says no, then boohoo. Still come back with the takeout."
"Of course. It's a win-win for you, and that's all you care about," Izuku muttered.
At that, Katsuki made a snarky grin. "It is my fee for helping you get a girlfriend."
Izuku rolled his eyes, but his laugh relayed his amusement.
Kamiko finally understood why girls were so giddy after being invited to something by their crush.
Because she had felt much of the same when Midoriya called her last night, with an invitation to catch up in person. It took everything inside her not to burst out a vigorous yes when he asked her if she was available. Get a hold of yourself, she reminded herself so many times she lost count. Control your mate bond.
So thirty minutes before the agreed time, Kamiko was completely ready. She chose a honeydew yellow sundress and a daffodil headband for tonight. A perfect representation of her excitement. The moment was done adjusting the straps of her sandals, she grabbed her purse and was out the door.
Kamiko had already researched the location of the dinner. It was not far from her home. She could get there by foot. Its street was located near the one where she had once been attacked for being suspected as a villain. The idea of being so close to a place that scared her to this day disturbed her, but she took comfort in the fact that Midoriya would not do anything to invoke her fear. That it was unlikely she would be hurt that badly ever again. That the street on the address Midoriya gave was busy all hours of the day. Besides, she liked the future Symbol of Peace. She could certainly attempt to be brave. Yet it was not easy to do so.
Out the door and on her way, Kamiko took her time. She did get ready early, after all. Twilight had fallen. The roads she traversed were mostly empty at this time. No one would pass snide comments at her mutant quirk. No one would make her feel more anxious than she already was.
However, the closer she reached her destination, the more her nervousness rose. It meant that she was nearing that scary alley. Like all the other paths she had crossed, this one was devoid of life as well. So why did it feel so sinister?
If Kamiko turned around and chose another route, she would arrive late. Swallowing her fear and making the walk was her best option. So she did just that. With her head held high, she trudged on. Fake it till you make it, she chanted in her head. Terrified but will not show.
Internally, she counted the steps it took her to make it across.
One, two, three. Nothing happened.
Four, five, six. So far so good.
Seven, eight, nine. Getting there.
Ten, eleven, twelve. Halfway across now.
Thirteen, fo-
Out of nowhere, a bottle smashed into the back of her head, making her lose count.
Kamiko whipped around at the source of the noise. She regretted her choice almost immediately. A gang of masked men emerged from the shadows of the alley. They charged at her. Her eyes widened. Kamiko needed no further indication to know that she had to escape. She turned around and prepared to run.
Unfortunately, the impact of the bottle and sudden movement jarred her. Her vision distorted before she fell to her knees. She shook her head to regain awareness of her surroundings. The moment of weakness was long enough that the men covered the distance and grabbed her. She opened her mouth to shout for help.
One of them shoved a gag in her mouth.
The others bound her hands and feet with rope.
Slowly, they dragged her out of the diminishing light of day into the darkness of fear.
Izuku waited outside the destination for Furukawa.
She was running a little late, but he figured there was a plausible excuse for it.
In the meantime, he straightened the lapels of his coat. It was the same coffee brown as his pants, and Katsuki said that the coat combined with the shirt and pants was a far better ensemble than the one he wore at I-Expo. Was Katsuki ever going to let go of that? He assumed no.
It made him curious how his crude, brash, and prone to angry outbursts partner knew so much about romance. Katsuki never displayed remote interest in anyone during school, and he did not seem like the type who was seeing anyone now. If anything, discussion about anything related to love - especially, Izuku's love life - revolted him.
Izuku resolutely determined to ask him when he got the chance.
Speaking of which, he opened his phone to search for restaurants that offered takeout. It would be a way to pass the time while he waited for his date.
However, when he placed the orders and she still did not come, he grew a little worried.
Furukawa was a punctual person, so this behavior was very unlike her. He called her number. It rang and rang until it reached voicemail. He considered leaving a text but thought better of it.
Izuku chose to ask around. Although it was a weekday, plenty of people roamed up and down the street. He confronted one of them, asking about a tall, vixen girl. The person claimed to know nothing. He moved to another person. Same response.
Everyone recognized who he was and were receptive to his questions. But to hear the same thing and over and over again grated him. For the public's sake and his own, he maintained a cheerful smile.
This time he called once more. In the possibility she was nearby, he would follow the sound of her ringtone.
His journey took him out of the street-lit road onto the dark paths.
Fear is an intoxicant.
It has many avatars and manifests in everyone at some point in their lives.
Fear may take the form of wine. Accumulating little by little, the victim does not realize what kind of danger they are in until it is too late. Fear may materialize as a drug. The victim lives with it long enough for it to become unimaginable to live in a world without it. But these are all instances where fear has had plenty of time to slowly and subtly make its presence known.
For most people, fear manifested as an instantaneous surge. Cortisol, epinephrine, norepinephrine surged through the body, increasing heart rate, breathing, sweating, and trembling. The digestive system shut down to enhance the acuity of the ears and eyes. All thinking left the body, leaving only one thing in place: the desire to survive.
That was what was happening with Kamiko.
She had no idea who these masked men were. It was clear that they did not know either. All they cared about was her physical appearance and not getting caught. It was why her phone lay badly damaged.
"Fucking mutant ***!" one of them shouted before landing a kick to her stomach.
Kamiko struggled to cough with the gag closing her mouth. She had managed to push some of it out; but there was still a good portion left in her mouth.
Another man approached her with an iron crowbar. She scrambled back until her back hit the wall. He hit her leg.
A jolt of lightning-quick pain was sent up her spine. The scream came out strangled. Not the tears, though. He hit her leg again. She heard the bone crack. He had rendered unable to run. She was full on crying now.
The same man pulled her by her broken leg until she was lying flat on her back. Everyone from the gang - she did not count how many - began pummeling her with punches and kicks. They spewed insults about her fox features.
"Monsters! You lot are all fucking monsters!" said the same one who called her a ***.
Another punch finally got the cloth out of her mouth.
She screamed at them to stop. Pleading that she was not what they thought she was. "I swear - squeak - I am not a villain! Squeak!"
They paid her no heed. These were people so convicted to their anti-mutant ideology. Nothing would convince them to let her go. However, they did stop. A new person barked an order for them to pause.
She did not dare to think that her words had finally reached them.
This person was the gang's leader. And the way he was approaching her was far more terrifying than any beating.
All this time, her stress levels had been rising. To the point that her human side was fading. Call it fight versus flight, self-defense mechanism, or inner fox, her instincts guided her to bare her teeth and snarl. Kamiko thrashed against her bindings, itching to unleash her claws and swipe at her assailants' faces. Give them a taste of their own intimidation.
Her pupils dilated until there was only blackness. Her nostrils flared, taking in the scent of the scene. Metallic blood oozing from her body; dampness of the alley; sweat of her assailants. They smelled of rot and decay. One attacker was standing too close to her. She bit into his ankle hard and did not let go, in spite of his howl. She held on tight, wanting to tear deeper into the muscle. Right down to the bone. When he used all his might to pull away from her, she made sure to tear a chunk of flesh. He limped away.
Baring her bloodstained teeth at the remaining attackers, she challenged them to approach her.
"You'll regret this, mutant," the leader said as he picked up the gag.
And the entire gang took it as an invitation.
Izuku had called fourteen times.
He had heard nothing.
At this point, there was no doubt that something was very much wrong. Years of hero training taught him to rely on his gut feeling because instinct was more often than not right. He could not find Furukawa by himself. He scrolled through his contact list, this time to contact Katsuki instead of her. Izuku was going to arrange a search team.
It was then when he heard something. So faint, he could almost believe it was his imagination.
Almost.
It could be nothing. Some creaky floorboard or a critter scouring through the trash. Countless inane possibilities. But Izuku did not want to take a chance. Although unlikely, if it was a clue, he wanted to know. He went in the direction of the sound. Left of where he was navigating.
Traversing the alley, he waited to hear another noise. There. It was coming from the left again. It sounded like … a muffle. Like someone whose mouth has been forcibly shut trying to catch attention. He followed the source again, waiting for another clue. Dial button ready, he pressed it. Two buzzes later, Katsuki picked up.
"Get a group of heroes and police here," Izuku whispered immediately.
Katsuki was quiet for a moment before leaping to action. "Got it. Keep the call connected, so we can trace it."
"Yeah."
Another squeal emanated. Louder. From the right this time. It sounded much like Furukawa, but more painful than embarrassed. Izuku's pace quickened.
He unleashed his quirk, letting him race through the streets at lightning speed.
Whoever had the audacity to hurt her was about to regret their entire existence.
Broken bones were one thing.
What was happening to her was incomparable.
Time slowed down. Kamiko felt unknown hands shove her down. They restrained her arms and legs physically when the ropes had loosened. She tried to scratch and kick. It was reciprocated with a knife through the palms. She screeched.
The leader seized this chance to shut her mouth with the cloth. For extra measure, he tied a rope around her snout. Although, she could not see his face, it was obvious that he took delight from her pain. He took so much delight that he shifted down to straddle her hips.
"You are inhuman," he said menacingly. "An animal parading as a human. And animals have no sense of right and wrong. So what we are about do to you is not wrong, it's justice."
Kamiko's sundress was torn and bloody from the beating. He reached for the skirt hem and pushed it up her hips so roughly, the seams ripped to the point of being indecent. But the person who was responsible for this indecency did not seem to think so. He had no idea how wrong he was. Animal or human, both were capable of emotion. And both species had enough morality to realize that there was no excuse for rape.
Then again, here this man was. His face was concealed with a mask, but within that mask she saw the people who tried to hurt her all those years ago. She could not help but flashback to that traumatic event. Had Midoriya Izuku not saved her in time, was this what would have happened to her? Would she have been subjected to such brutal treatment? Would they have raped her, too?
Her survival instincts had only one message for her: escape, even if it means to kill.
Despite it, she recognized that this was the true face of the discrimination toward mutants. Protection laws restricted the violence to racist insults on the internet and hushed slurs in the public. But in places like this, where the only law was that dictated by hate-driven mobsters, bigoted opinions were expressed without restraint.
This night would be etched into her mind forevermore.
What Izuku witnessed made him lose all rationality.
He forgot the team; he forgot hero boundaries; he forgot proper conduct toward criminals.
His mind was blank.
All he saw was a disgusting piece of human trash about to commit the most horrific crimes in existence. And like hell he would let that happen.
His body moved before he could think.
Izuku flicked his finger at the horde of trash, generating a massive shock wave that rattled through the concrete of the alley. Weighing nothing more than feathers, they flew away from Furukawa, crashing into the walls and road. Some of them were knocked out instantly; others slowly raised themselves to their feet. Izuku heard Katsuki shouting from the other end of the phone call, but he did not bother to listen. He could take care of this himself.
He would take care of this himself.
Before any of them got a chance to reciprocate his attack, Izuku let the power of One for All course through him. Red vein-like lines manifested on his body. The only warning of the volley of punches subsequently aimed at his opponents. They tried to gang up on him. He made sure each one of them clutched their stomachs and rolled their eyes into the back of their heads.
Only one was left when he was done. The garbage that attempted rape on Furukawa. Izuku turned toward him. Seeing the carnage wrought, the vile being scrambled on his hands and knees, begging for mercy.
Unfortunately, he would find none here. Not after what he had tried to do.
Izuku built up his tank of power to one-hundred percent, raising the air pressure. It was released with a devastating kick to the face. The impact tossed the trash out of the alley. He was unconscious upon impact.
Izuku was out of breath.
Now that the threat was over, his senses returned little by little. Katsuki screamed that the team was almost there.
"Got it," Izuku panted.
He looked at Furukawa.
He called out her name.
She hissed.
Kamiko had shut her eyes to the inevitable trauma that she was about to experience, when all of a sudden, her assaulter had been vigorously thrown aside. She had slid across the gravel surface from the impact, too.
She watched a stranger boy stand at the entrance of the shadowy alley. Her heightened night vision allowed her to pinpoint a dark green mess of hair and a muscular build beneath a clean suit. She watched this boy batter the attackers to pulp. She watched him defeat the last of them.
But she did not believe that she was safe.
Her inner fox told her that he was here for the same purpose that the men were. That he would hurt her more than the men did.
The boy spoke her name.
How he knew her, she did not know. But she was determined to fend him off. Scooting back just enough so her back rested against the wall, she gritted her teeth and snapped at him. A threat to stay away from her.
The boy did not move away. Rather, he raised both hands and slowly bent to her level.
"It's me," the boy said. "Midoriya Izuku. Your friend. You're safe now. No one is going to hurt you." She was not convinced. The boy continued to speak. He described their first encounter at the beach. The dates they went to, afterward. The texts, calls, and gifts they shared. He apologized profusely for not coming sooner. Kamiko did not notice when she ceased snarling and started listening to him.
His posture had not changed, but his words became gentler.
He was not a threat.
Her nostrils stopped flaring, and her tail slumped down. Still, she could smell him. He did not smell of danger. No. It was the fragrance of pine trees after rainfall. Soothing, comforting, and refreshing. The boy reminded her of a forest, vivacious and alive. Her pupils returned to normal size.
Kamiko whimpered.
Midoriya, she finally recognized. He had come to rescue her. She cried again, but this time out of relief.
"May I?" he asked, tentatively, as he reached for the rope around her snout. When she nodded, he undid the knot. Kamiko coughed out the gag, completely free to cry now. She heard the sirens of ambulances and police cars approach the scene. Midoriya shook off his jacket and put it around her shoulders. "Come on," he whispered kindly. "Let's get you treated."
Now that the adrenaline had faded, the physical pain of her injuries screamed into her brain. Her body was sore with bruises and cuts. The most severe of them were the knives still embedded in her hands. Midoriya stared at them with an inscrutable expression before assisting Kamiko to her feet.
The heroes gathered all the criminals.
The police bound them in handcuffs and sent the most wounded of them in ambulances.
She saw Pro-Hero Dynamite managing the operation. He and Midoriya met eyes, and a silent conversation occurred between them. It was finished with a mutual nod.
Midoriya helped Kamiko into an ambulance of her own. "I'll see you at the hospital," he said before releasing her hand.
Kamiko reached out for his and snagged his wrist.
"Please," she begged. "Stay with me."
"Okay," he murmured.
And he climbed into the ambulance as well.