DeathCat618 - Thank you for your comment. Don't worry; I've already planned out a couple of chapters. However, yes, this story is eventually coming to an end. I believe that a person's condition doesn't deteriorate suddenly; it takes time for the symptoms to worsen. Deku also carries medicine to alleviate the symptoms. While they don't fix the underlying problem, they do help in coping with the discomfort. Recovery will take a significant amount of time, and in my opinion, the recovery process can be more painful and frustrating than the original injury. It takes less time to get injured, but healing takes much longer. *even with quirks*
Chapter 34: Realization
The fluorescent lights overhead flickered with a harsh, unyielding intensity, casting stark shadows in the nearly empty hospital corridor. This building wasn't some bustling city hospital with staff ready to respond at a moment's notice; it was a small, deserted facility where people rarely visited unless they were teetering on the edge of death. Consequently, resources were scarce, and tonight, as we waited, I couldn't shake the feeling that every passing moment eroded our chances of a favorable outcome.
I stood next to the doors, panting heavily, my heart racing with the weight of worry. Beside me, Bakugou looked like a shadow of his usual self, slumped in a chair, his face streaked with dried blood and grime, his eyes haunted. His once spiky blonde hair, usually a wild crown, was plastered to his forehead with sweat and grime, the remnants of their harrowing ordeal. Blood splattered across his clothes, dark stains that told a tale of conflict and pain. His eyes, usually alight with fierce determination, now burned with a mix of panic and exhaustion, each flicker betraying the chaos of emotions surging within him.
I couldn't help but recall how all of this began, how in an instant, everything had spiraled into chaos. The burning flames I had seen from a distance on Kinnigan Hill were a sight I would never want to see again. They were grotesque and mesmerizing, an inferno that devoured everything in its path.
My heart sank deeper when I received the message on my satellite phone, its shrill ring jolting me from the trance of helplessness. Through the static, an officer's voice broke through: elephants rampaging in the village, and amongst them, two kids on a smaller elephant, one clutching the limp form of other, desperately shouting for help. I cursed my lack of speed as I sprinted towards them, shouting into the satellite phone for someone to guide the boys to the nearest hospital.
Suddenly, two nurses burst into view, each radiating a focus that was refreshing in this otherwise stagnant atmosphere. One rushed straight through the swinging doors into the unknown depths of the facility with Midoriya. The other approached Bakugou.
"Let me see your leg," she said firmly, kneeling down swiftly to begin removing his shoe. But Bakugou, still caught in the storm of adrenaline and panic, shot her a glare that could melt steel.
"Get the hell off me!" he bellowed.
"Let the nurse examine your leg, Bakugou," I urged, trying to bridge the gap between his stubbornness and the reality of his condition. Yet, he barely glanced in my direction, his focus entirely absorbed with the door that led to the surgery area.
"I said leave me the fuck alone! You really think I care about my stupid leg right now? Deku's the one back there, bleeding out! Deku's the priority! Do your damn job and focus on him instead of wasting time on me!"
The nurse recoiled slightly, taken aback - not just by his words, but by the raw desperation etched into his features. But she ignored his words and doubled down, gently but resolutely pulling at the laces of his shoe.
"The fuck. Are you deaf? You're already short on staff. Make some fucking use of yourself and go fix Deku" Bakugou yelled hoarsely. She looked torn between professional duty and the looming shouts of a distressed teenager. I turned to the nurse, her indecision clear on her face. "I'll handle him," I said flatly, and there was a brief flicker of relief on her face before she turned to leave. Bakugou's furious shout echoed back, urging her to hurry, a desperate plea wrapped in the usual bravado.
"This is going to be a long night," I muttered, resigned to the endless cycle of worry and dread that seemed to envelop the hospital like a cocoon. Maybe I should've felt more regret for the nurse, but all I could focus on was the boy in front of me—my students' lives hanging by a delicate thread.
"Rest, Bakugou," I said, controlling my voice enough for calming authority. "I'll let you know as soon as I hear anything about Deku."
His head snapped toward me. "I'm not leaving! I'm not going anywhere until I know he's okay! So just sit the hell down and wait with me!"
I exhaled slowly. "What happened out there? I thought you were searching for your third clue on the Southern side of the hill. What brought you to the Western side?" I tried to distract him, to coax the tangled web of tension into something less suffocating.
"Why do you think we would still be stuck on third clue?" he shot back, his voice laced with frustration. "We found the certificates and we followed your instructions to trek down along the stream."
"But you were supposed to set a tree on fire to scare off the wolves. I left clear instructions in the shed. Did you not find it?" I asked, my heart racing with concern.
"What the hell are you talking about? There were no such instruc…" he began, but then he froze, his eyes widening in realization, the truth crashing over him like a wave. "Hmm. So you never entered the shed." The weight of that statement hung in the air, thick like smoke from a fire, filling the space between us with a palpable tension.
"Hey, Bakugou. It's okay." I continued gently as I watched him start to hyperventilate, his breath quickening and becoming jagged. "You both made it back…"
"Look at what my stupidity did!" he snapped, voice shaking as he hid his face in his hands, fists clenched tightly around the messy blonde strands of his hair. "It nearly got his arm chopped off"
I instinctively placed my hand on his shoulder, expecting the usual resistance, the fiery retort, but instead, he remained still. It was as if the fight had drained out of him entirely, leaving an exhausted shell behind. It spoke volumes on how drained he truly was.
I handed him a glass of water, watching as his fingers trembled slightly, the once forceful hands that could unleash explosions now faltering with basic tasks. I sat in silence, refraining from speaking, offering him the comfort of my presence.
"Put your feet on the chair," I commanded softly once he composed himself a bit, seeing how utterly drained he looked. With a long, resigned exhale, he relented, shifting forward with effort as he picked up his battered leg with trembling hands. He hissed as his feet made contact with the cold plastic chair, a grimace of pain crossing his face as he slumped back down.
"Just go slowly" he gritted through clenched teeth. I rolled up his pant leg to examine the damage, and my heart sank at the sight: his ankle was red and swollen, a stark contrast against the pale skin where dirt and sweat mixed. I lifted his leg to remove the shoe, but he tensed instantly, muscles coiling in response. I tugged at his heel gently, and he whimpered, the sound like a knife to the gut.
"Just a little more," I encouraged. I could feel the tension radiating from him, every inch of him screaming in protest. With firm determination, I gave it a hard tug, and he shot forward, screaming.
"Fuck. Just give me a second…" he muttered, voice breaking slightly, tears streaming down his face.
"I believe we need to cut away your shoe," I said, steadying my voice despite the surge of panic that threatened to bubble up. It's one thing to hear your students roar with exhilaration as they unleash their powers, each cry a testament to the growth you've fostered in them—guiding their strength, helping them channel it, and pushing them to master their abilities. But it's an entirely different experience to hear those same voices cry out in agony, knowing that you, as their mentor, are the reason for their pain.
His eyes widened, and he nodded, fresh tears spilling down his face as he tried to keep his composure, shoulders trembling under the weight of pain. After a few agonizing moments, he collapsed back into his seat, too exhausted to fight anymore. I pulled out my switchblade, the small knife glinting ominously under the harsh fluorescent lights, and began carefully cutting down the sides of his shoe.
It was a slow process, and every slight movement of his leg, even the smallest shift, made him gasp as if each jolt sent a fresh wave of agony coursing through him. I worked deliberately, my heart aching for him, each cry of pain twisting in my gut like a dagger. Eventually, the shoe gave way, and I pulled it off, only for him to scream again as I felt around his ankle.
"Just breathe," I encouraged softly, trying to coach him through the moment.
"You'll need an X-ray to confirm, but I think it's a fracture," I stated, trying to maintain a calm demeanor despite the turmoil roiling in my gut. "Recovery Girl can quickly fix this, but until then, you'll need to restore your energy and keep from moving your leg," I added, placing a firm hand on his knee to stabilize him. The sensation of his muscles flexing under my palm told me just how much pain he was trying to endure. "Recovery Girl is on her way but it will take her some time to get here; she's across the city dealing with another emergency."
He remained silent for a moment, staring at the floor as if the tiles would suddenly reveal all the answers to his pain. Then, looking back to meet my gaze, he murmured, "Tell her… to hurry up. D-deku needs her." I nodded.
Suddenly, my satellite phone buzzed to life, jolting me from my thoughts. Officer Nakahara's urgent voice sliced through my thoughts like a knife. "Eraserhead, we have a situation. We need you here." I completely forgot about him. But I don't want to deal with this shadow guy at this moment. I have more pressing things on my mind.
"Not now, Nakahara," I snapped, irritation flashing through my veins. Did he not understand the magnitude of my responsibilities here?
"Eraserhead," he insisted, his voice growing more desperate. "This is really important. Some vendors are reporting thefts. They say their things were stolen when they were distracted by the sound of elephants. And when they looked back, there were strange wisps of smoke disappearing around that place. We think Hideo is nearby, trying to blend in with the villagers. We need you here to cancel his quirk."
"Damn it," I muttered under my breath.
Beside me, Bakugou groaned, his frustration mingling with his pain. "The fuck! He followed us here?"
"What do you mean he followed you?" I shot back, my heart racing.
"He was up there on the damn mountain, attacking Deku!" Bakugou spat, his voice low and strained, trembling with a mix of fury and pain. "Tried to slice me in half like I'm some damn piece of paper! I wanted to teach that bastard a lesson he wouldn't forget. I wanted to show him what real power feels like, but then he went and pulled that stupid darkness quirk. Everything went pitch black—I couldn't see a damn thing! And then he just ran off like a coward, escaping like the pathetic worm he is!"
"Tried to cut you? Is he carrying a weapon?" The fear surged through me again. If this man was armed, the risk became exponentially greater.
"No. It's his quirk," Bakugou exclaimed, voice rising in frustration. "He slashes his hands in the air and unleashes practically a wave of that darkness! Deku pushed me out of the way just then, even when he could barely stand!" A tremor rippled through his body as he recalled the encounter, his fists clenching instinctively. Fresh tears streamed down his cheeks, his raw vulnerability cutting deeper than any injury. My heart ached at the sight of my strongest student reduced to this state.
"Did you hear all that, Nakahara?" I pressed, the urgency of the moment sharpening my voice.
"Yeah, I did," Nakahara replied, sounding even more strained. "This confirms your suspicion. Hideo Asari is our man. The thief and the murderer."
"Exactly. Tell the officers to calm down the villagers, keep them indoors, and patrol the area. I want two officers stationed near his house. We can't let him slip away."
"On it," Nakahara replied, but I sensed the unease clinging to him. "But even if we find him, he could evade us with his quirk. We really need you here before he does any more damage."
I could feel the pressure weighing on my chest, a war of priorities waging inside me, pulling me under. "Can't you wait? I just need a little more time. Until I know they're okay."
"Hey, I'm fine," Bakugou interjected, forcing strength through his pain. "Just say that our assignment is complete and go catch that bastard."
A part of me wanted to refuse, to stay by their side and protect them. The other part, the pragmatic teacher, recognized the urgency of the situation. I looked into Bakugou's fierce, pain-filled eyes and felt the overwhelming need to ensure his safety, and Midoriya's as well. But the dark threat of Hideo loomed larger in my mind, a monster hiding in the shadows.
"Just go and catch that scumbag," Bakugou said, the devilish smirk momentarily breaking through the pain and fear. "Promise me you'll let me have first dibs on him when you catch him."
"Fine. I'm coming. Send someone here with another satellite phone. I am leaving this one with Bakugou" I finally relented, the choice made. The weight of my decision hung heavily, but I had to trust my instincts. My heart pounded as I turned toward the door, torn between my duty to protect my students and the need to face the lurking threat of Hideo Asari.
As I turned to leave the hospital, I grasped onto my resolve. For now, my focus had to shift to capturing Hideo Asari, ensuring my students stay safe.
"I'll be back in no time" I silently vowed to both of them.