Chapter 24: Activities To Help Kids Learn About F̴̟͙̺̒͝ẻ̴͍̞̝̤͙͚́͆̎e̸̢̼̩̦̤̙͈̩̙̰̓͊̒̽͛́́̂ĺ̸̛̩̤̳͓̘̍̈́̚͝ĩ̴̧̠͖̩̝͖̦͒̐̾̾͋̏́̕n̴̜̿́̐̇̍̕͠g̶̨̣̥̫̞̤̓͐̔̉̚̚s̷̠̅͛͌̆̓̾̇̾̑
Yamada noticed the boy's reclusiveness the minute he laid eyes on him, but nothing he said did anything to help the situation. In fact, nothing he said even earned a response, their walk home drowned in an eerie sense of silence, even more so than the first time the hero had taken the boy back to his home. At least then, he managed to get him rambling about his hobby of quirk analysis. But no matter what angle he tried this time, none of them seemed to give him any leeway.
The second he unlocked the front door, Midoriya practically squirmed past him to get inside, ditching his red sneakers on the mat. He immediately beelined for the guest room, and before the pro could utter out a word, the door had already been slammed shut. Yamada stood there silently, before letting out a miserable sigh, laced with an undertone of hopelessness. He shut the front door softly behind him and slipped off his own shoes, then moved to rest on the couch.
Once he sank into the cushions, his head collapsed into his hands, not having the energy to hold it up anymore. He wasn't sure what had happened with Midoriya, but witnessing him so unwilling to interact was tearing him apart inside. It had been a literal mess of a day, and while the hero most certainly didn't blame the student for the current anguish he was feeling, it obviously didn't help in any way.
His partner was still undergoing surgery, and though he never got to see his condition, word of mouth truly didn't pull any punches. It was so difficult to remove the guilt of not having arrived fast enough, especially knowing that two of the people he cared about most in his world had been fighting for their lives.
He wasn't sure when he had gotten so attached to the teen currently residing in the guest bedroom, but he couldn't deny it now. Seeing Midoriya lying bloody and motionless on the plaza ground sparked something utterly desolate in the pits of his soul. He found his subconscious wanting to keep him safe and happy, and before he knew it, he had been pacing outside of Recovery Girl's office desperately waiting on an update.
But now, even though the boy was home and safe, it didn't feel that way. The hero sat empty in the silent air, and though the silence never bothered him before, he was beginning to hate it now. His spirit was so alone, filled with unending anxiousness, and he felt so helpless in his efforts to stop it.
He kept telling himself that it was merely the stress and loneliness getting to him, but that did nothing to convince the tears to stop.
Yamada wanted to remain brave, keep up his unfaltering facade as a hero, someone who could be turned to in a time of need. But damn, he was a normal person first. And he could hear his instincts telling him to stop, to collect himself because it was pathetic, but he didn't want to. He was miserable, isolated, and afraid, and dammit, sometimes heroes needed a hero of their own. It had been a brutal transition to add another person to their lives, especially someone his heroic values desperately wanted to help but found themselves less than able to, and it all just seemed to culminate today. Was it wrong that he wanted someone to hug him right now, to reassure him everything would end up alright?
But right now, there was no one to be his hero. So until there was, he needed to remain strong for everyone else.
He stood up, wiping his wet eyes with the end of his long sleeve shirt. His face wasn't all too red, but he figured he should do something to distract himself from it anyway. He needed a distraction overall, because worrying himself over Aizawa's condition or Midoriya's sudden lack of emotion wasn't going to end well for his tired and stressed conscience.
He was still dressed in his hero costume, as he ended up waiting outside the nurse's office the entire time after carrying the injured boy into the ambulance. And though he had made a quick pit stop to release his hair from its usual updo before getting to see Midoriya, he figured now was a good time to change completely into something more comforting.
So he made his way to the bedroom, passing by the shut door of the guest room on his way. It concerned him that absolutely no sound came from beyond the door, but he pushed himself not to stop and knock. If anything, he could do so after he changed, but right now, he needed to prioritize himself, even if that sounded selfish when there was someone so clearly in need just beyond a closed door.
There were a nice pair of jeans laying on the end of the bed that he remembered setting out this morning, so he reached for those to pull on. Moving to the closet, he instinctively grabbed his burgundy long sleeved shirt, his favorite, which was easy to tell by the slight worn texture to the fabric. He smoothed out the edge of the shirt, noticing his actions becoming a little antsy. He wanted to take his mind off of everything that plagued it, but that was easier said than done. He found himself unusually cold and distracted, like he was floating through the vacuum of space without a suit, but at a loss for how to change it.
He sat down on the edge of the bed, resting his hands on his knees. He found himself at a loss for how to change a lot of things, and it was really starting to get to him. But the whole reason he changed clothes was because he was trying to unwind, and that's what he was determined to do.
It was typical for the two to keep a healthy stockpile of instant hot chocolate in the house. It started as Yamada's comfort drink on cold days, but he easily managed to rope it into his partner's routine. And though Aizawa would never admit it, he remembered more than enough times where he caught him boiling the water with the packet beside. It was a practice both of them enjoyed, and the hero held some warm memories of them enjoying the drink together in front of the TV.
And with that, he sat up eagerly from the bed. Reliving the comforting memories put him in the mood to remake them. And now that he let his hair loose and changed into something more soothing, it was the perfect finale. Inspired, he left the room in a hurry, making a break down the hall for the kitchen, right past the guest bedroom door.
The blond set the kettle out to boil on the stovetop as he scoured the cabinet for the instant packets. He wasn't trying to be loud as he shoved and pushed around the rest of the mess inside, but he was certain the hot chocolate was here somewhere. Finally pulling out the box, he settled down off his toes and slid it onto the counter beside the stove. There were more than enough packets inside for multiple cups if need be, and that encouraged the pro to grab two extra mugs when getting his own.
Yamada was convinced hot chocolate could heal the soul, or at least, warm it. So what better way to kickstart the healing than to drink it, even if they weren't together? He wasn't sure if Midoriya liked hot chocolate in the first place, but he figured it wouldn't hurt to make him a cup anyway. And he was definitely sure that Aizawa would appreciate a good cup of cocoa when he got home.
And so, with a new pep in his step, he separated out a packet of hot chocolate for each mug, then putting the entire box back in the cabinet. It would be a heartwarming surprise for each of them, himself included, and he found his mind far from the stress that had leeched onto it earlier.
That was, until he felt his back pocket where he had slipped in his phone buzz. And since the kettle hadn't begun whistling yet, he was more than free to check it.
There was a voicemail notification on the screen, and at closer inspection, it was from Recovery Girl. His brows furrowed in confusion before it clicked in his head, finally ending the long period of stress he had been attempting to distract himself from.
His heart cramped in his chest as he opened up the voicemail, not entirely sure what he wanted to hear at this point. His finger hovered over the play button, before he mentally chastised himself and hit it.
"Hello Yamada-san." The nurse's voice played out of his phone's microphone, no distinguishably somber tone to it, which definitely eased some of his worries. "Hopefully I'm not catching you at a bad time."
Well, it wasn't technically a bad time, as he was by no means busy. But Yamada figured any time the older woman was to call wouldn't exactly be good, at least, in the eyes of his anxious conscience.
"Just wanted to tell you that Aizawa-san is out of surgery and free to leave, though you need to come and pick him up because quite honestly, I don't trust him to walk home in his condition, even if it is stable."
His partner was finally out of surgery, and free to come home? He nearly dropped his phone to the floor in shock. Forgetting about the kettle or the hot chocolate, he raced to the front door, slipping his jacket on and reaching for a pair of shoes.
"I'd suggest heading over quickly, since he's a bit cranky and it's starting to get on my nerves. For my sake, I hope to see you soon."
The recording ended just as he reached for his set of keys. As he began turning the knob on the front door, he remembered that there was another person in the house, and he swiveled around to face the hallway.
"I'm going to pick up Shouta!" he yelled out loudly, making careful effort not to activate his quirk on accident, "I'll be back soon!!"
He hoped that was enough of a heads up without having to go knock on his door, but his anxiety was getting the better of him. So to avoid getting any more antsy than he currently was, he swung open the front door and flew outside, towards the car.
His conscience wished he could have talked with Midoriya before he left, but his morals were torn between two people right now, one who was asking for him and one who wasn't. So he repeated that sentiment over and over in his head until he was sure he convinced his conscience that it was true, before turning the key in the ignition.
He just hoped to the universe and above that he wasn't making the wrong choice.
Gami had been beyond worried ever since his successor finished his talk with Recovery Girl, but nothing he said seemed to get through his robotic exterior. He wasn't really sure anything he said even made it to his ears in the first place. Not only was he failing to get a response, he was failing to get acknowledgement, which only added exponentially to his nervousness.
He had listened silently when the two had their discussion, and he was currently cursing himself for doing so. He was sure the boy was distraught over finding out the true state of his condition, and honestly, so was he. It absolutely terrified him to know that without his immortality, his successor wouldn't have made it out alive. And by the boy's blank expression, it was clear he was upset over the news as well. He should have said something sooner, while they were both receiving the news. Maybe then his emotional state wouldn't have been so… empty.
In the time that they arrived home, Midoriya had spent all of it isolated in the guest room. In the time that they arrived home, the teen hadn't been able to sit still, switching from sitting at his desk, to sitting on his bed, to pacing around, to sitting on the floor even. And the entire time, he didn't utter a sound, which made his actions all the more unnerving.
Currently, the boy was curled up on the floor, leaning against the side of the bed. His hands were holding his knees to his chest, fingers twitching sporadically. Gami had found himself floating awkwardly, unsure of what to do or say. The only noises in the room were Midoriya's labored breathing, his constant shuffling, and the occasional meowing coming from the corner of the room courtesy of Links.
Then, the dull silence was interrupted by a yell from Yamada, something about leaving to pick up Aizawa. Whatever it was, the ghost really wasn't paying too much attention, and neither was Midoriya. But upon hearing the front door slam violently shut, he was graced with the opportunity to finally get the boy out of the room, even for just a moment.
And so he lowered his floating form to come closer to the catatonic teen, kneeling in front of him to hopefully catch his attention. "Izu, why not leave the room for some time? There is no one there to see you."
There was no response or movement, just the seemingly never ending void of silence. Gami frowned, though it couldn't be seen, and tried again from a different angle.
"Recovery Girl did recommend you hydrate upon arriving back. Why not grab a glass of water?"
This time, he was lucky enough to get a subtle shake of the head, but nothing more. Gami couldn't lie, he was beginning to grow impatient, but he knew this was a sensitive situation, one that was necessary to handle with care. He scooted closer, reaching one of his hands out in an effort to get his successor to react. But after no movement for a few seconds, he lowered it.
"Please, Izuku," the ghost couldn't stop his worry from climbing up his throat, its audible wetness clashing against the painfully dry silence, "You have not said a word since Recovery Girl spoke with you. You cannot fault me for growing concerned!"
Gami didn't mean for the outburst, but he found himself exploding with guilt at seeing his successor flinch away from him. All of his anxiety from this entire ordeal was culminating into one hot mess, and he could only scramble to try and hold the pieces together. He wanted to help, he was trying to help, but he wasn't sure how to, or if what he was doing was ultimately detrimental to the boy's condition overall. And the feeling of uselessness made him extremely anguished, to say the least, almost like he hated the very soul that housed his being.
Then, he noticed the teen raise his head up to make eye contact, slow and robotic. The space around his eyes were red and puffy, and despite no tears actually falling, his eyes were obviously overtaken by a glossy coating. His lip quivered softly, though no other part of his face moved. The spirit witnessed what looked to be a few attempts to speak, based on his mouth parting opened slightly once or twice, but it seemed to never really get there. So in one last ditch attempt to get him to open up, he placed his hand gently on the boy's knee, wishing his cold chills could be something warm instead.
"Please, just talk to me."
He watched his gloved fingers curl into the fabric of his gym uniform pants, like he was trying to strangle the clothing into submission. Midoriya hugged himself closer, trying to keep warm with the tattered rags that still dressed his body. He hadn't even bothered to change out of the bloody uniform, and that was just another reason on top of the many which had Gami so preoccupied with restoring his mood to stability
.
"I… I should've d… died." He didn't bother maintaining the eye contact he had gone through the trouble of creating. "I should've died…"
The transparent man understood that fact, that his immortality as Death was the only thing that kept him alive in that situation. But he found himself unable to discern why it was upsetting him to the extent in which it was. And that bothered him: to feel inadequate in the few scenarios where he truly needed to step up.
"I do not understand," he admitted openly, unsure of how to continue when he found himself so lacking, "Your immortality prevented you from perishing during combat. Is that not good?"
Once he finished, he watched the teen shake his head a multitude of times, only to exhale roughly. He could hear his breathing becoming more staggered, like he couldn't control his actions anymore. He raised a pained hand to his forehead, before suddenly shooting upward to his feet, his body rigid like a set of porcupine spines. He began to pace by the side of the bed, muttering inaudibles under his breath.
"What if I wasn't immortal?" His tiny voice shuddered in his throat, like a timid animal peeking around the bushes for predators. "What if I wasn't able to get back up?"
Midoriya could feel his emotions beginning to peak in ways he wasn't familiar with. He was an emotional wreck, a swirling spiral of insecurities he had no clue how to deal with. And the last thing he wanted to do was project them all onto his mentor, but he needed them gone. He craved release, like a dying man would water, and it all was beginning to spill out of him like a cracked dam finally bursting.
It also didn't help that Gami obviously didn't understand where he was coming from.
"I knew I couldn't do anything! I knew the Nomu was way out of my league!" he bellowed out from his lungs, "But I tried anyway, and if I was normal, I would've been dead…!"
From the corner came a small cry of distress, but neither of them noticed it as the boy collapsed again to his knees. Somewhere between his distraught screaming, the sobbing had kicked up as well, and now was the only thing that could be heard as he bawled his eyes out angrily. His chest heaved, desperately trying to fill with air to counteract the suffocating feeling of anguish. His heart was thumping right through his chest, and yet he couldn't feel it beating.
"Aizawa could have died, Tsu could have died. The Nomu could have gone off to hurt Iida or Uraraka or Shouto…" He wasn't sure who he was trying to convince at this point, but his voice was growing steadily meeker as wet acceptance replaced his anger. "I have to be better, I have to last longer. I wasn't good enough this time, I can't let that happen again."
The was a vast wave of emptiness that enveloped the room afterwards. Midoriya's tears crashed onto the hardwood floor like raindrops against the window pane, except the sound was far from soothing. He held his gloved hands up to his eyes, desperately trying to stop the flow, but the tears managed to seep out of every crack that went uncovered, spilling out like a rocky waterfall.
"Izuku, please tell me you do not think that as so…"
The pained breathing hitched suddenly, getting caught in his throat like a lodged, foreign object. It only broke the old ghost's heart further, his worst fears being confirmed as true. He floated closer, placing his hands reassuringly on his shoulders in an attempt to ground him.
"You cannot possibly believe that this burden falls on your shoulders alone, simply due to the premise that you cannot die."
He then moved his bony hands down, cupping the boy's gloved hands in his own, tearing them away from his crying eyes. Midoriya didn't look up, keeping his puffy eyes downcast, but Gami still pressed forward, hoping he was headed in the right direction.
"There is nothing wrong with utilizing these abilities to the fullest, as long as they assist you in reaching your goal. But that cannot be an excuse to put yourself in harm's way, simply because you can."
That stirred something in his successor and he looked up abruptly, shaking his head. "But that's not fair! I was lucky enough to inherit these powers, so I have to do something worthwhile with them. No one else gets to fight with the security of knowing they'll be fine no matter what. It's not about me! I have to get better for their sake!!"
For some odd reason, Gami felt a rush of discomfort and even the slightest hints of anger at hearing Midoriya refer to his powers as lucky, but he couldn't place why. He knew for sure it wasn't jealousy, nor envy, that he was feeling. Just a strange, unplaceable rush of anger, like the teen didn't know what he was talking about. But then again, neither did he, as all he knew was the emotion, not the reason behind it.
But he pushed whatever he was feeling to the side and focused himself again on the task at hand. He reconnected the eye contact with the boy, even though he was sure it wouldn't be noticeable, gripping his gloved hands tightly to make sure he could feel it.
"It has to be about you, not only for yourself, but for everyone who holds you close in their hearts."
Midoriya was silent, unable to conjure up a response right away. Gami just didn't get it. He had failed in every sense of the word. Constant scenarios flooded his guilty conscience in waves as he imagined everything that could have possibly gone wrong. He couldn't help but imagine what would've happened if his powers hadn't been enough. He almost failed at the one thing he was good for, and that was enough to completely betray the trust Aizawa put in him to protect. He wasn't good enough, he needed to get stronger.
He wasn't sure how much longer he could bear these feelings of inadequacy.
His mouth opened to try and say something, but he hesitated, letting out a shaky exhale instead. And that seemed to be all the universe needed to interrupt the moment, as a shrill whistle came loudly from just beyond the room.
The noise was sudden enough to startle them both, with the teen wincing into his skin. The duo shared a look, unsure of what to do next or how to follow the situation. But the sound was starting to grow annoying, and he finally sucked in his breath and turned towards his door.
The spirit didn't say anything, afraid he might discourage him from leaving, but couldn't help his excitement at his successor finally leaving the room. Whether it was divine intervention from the universe itself or simply a coincidence and nothing more, he certainly was grateful nonetheless.
Midoriya moved to click open the doorknob, when a small cry came form beside his feet. Surprised he even heard it over the loud shrieking coming from beyond the door, he looked down anxiously, only to see a familiarly small ball of grey fluff standing nervously just beside him. He jumped from his skin unconsciously, before calming down enough to breathe. The whistling was only getting louder and more annoying, so instead of worrying about how close the kitten was to his leg, he turned away and opened the door as intended, feeling surprisingly more at ease than he expected.
Gami had to hold in his snickers at seeing the small cat follow his successor down the hallway like a baby duckling, waddling happily in his wake. Though, the sudden friendliness was a bit odd to the specter. Wasn't the young kitten uncomfortable in social situations, because it certainly didn't seem so now. And the teen certainly wasn't comfortable in the cat's company either, so why did his personality seemingly shift so drastically? Links obviously wasn't trying to hide the fact he was following behind, his soft steps echoing on the hardwood, but Midoriya didn't seem to mind. It was definitely unusual, and stuck out in the ghost's head, but he wasn't going to point that out now and risk killing the strangely serene mood.
The three strolled carefully from the hallway and into the open living room and kitchen. The whistling was much louder now and was distinguishably coming from the kitchen, as well as a whirling stream of steam. He turned to see a kettle screeching from atop the stove, vibrating slightly over the hot blue flame.
The boy was unsure of what to do with it, but the sound was growing to be more than an annoyance with each passing second. So he shuffled to the stove, Links and Gami close behind, and carefully wormed his arm to the burner dial, flicking it off. He moved it onto a new burner, the blaring whistling ceasing almost instantly, along with his irritation.
"Hot chocolate?"
Confused, Midoriya swiveled around. "What?"
Gami pointed gently at the island counter, towards a set of mugs that lay on top. Beside each, was a packet of instant cocoa, purposely set out and designated to its own mug. He counted three cups, all waiting to be filled with hot water and mixed powder, to waft the sweet smell of chocolate through the tense air.
"It seems as if Present Mic was preparing drinks for three individuals, likely you, Aizawa, and himself," the ghost commented, making a failed attempt to grab one.
The teen furrowed his brows. That made sense, but how did Yamada know he liked hot cocoa? He had only made that apparent to Aizawa, and he certainly wasn't here now. Did the underground hero share that information? Or was the voice hero just that intuitive? Either way, it wasn't too big of a deal, just something that nagged uncomfortably at the edges of his mind. Reminiscent of how the wisps of shrieked whistling echos around those same spots.
Turning back around to the stove, he listened as the kettle still heaved out its last cries of life. Its shining exterior began to grow cold, likely the same with its contents. He could always turn the burner back on, but that would start up the infuriating screeching again. But letting the hot water and those soothing cups of hot chocolate go to waste would be a crime.
He could pour out the water himself and set up the drinks for the eventual return of Yamada and possibly Aizawa, but would that be too much? Would Yamada be upset that he interfered? Would Yamada be upset if he let the water go cold? He was probably thinking too hard about this, but it was so easy to overanalyze everything. All the "what ifs" constantly sloshed around in his conscience and he couldn't help but consider each one, no matter the possibility. What was he to do, when every option felt like the worst one? It was a rush of unwanted stress and anxiety that all seemed to pile up on his shoulders at the worst possible momen-
A small purr came from just beside his ankle, catching his attention before he could disassociate. His head turned snappily, yet his eyes held this air of fogginess that completely contradicted his movement. But Links didn't seem to mind, as he was the one to meet his spacey gaze. The kitten looked up at him, his comically big head adorably unnatural upon his petite sitting form. He cocked it to the side, like he was confused at the boy's worry.
Midoriya was more than puzzled. Was the cat smiling at him? Could felines even do that to begin with? He hadn't noticed that Gami now followed his same trail of vision, nor that the ghost was just as confused as he was. It was odd, but slightly comfortable, which was even more strange to admit. But he could definitely admit he felt calmer, like the tense air was finally lifted from his lungs. It was some unnatural wave of serenity that washed over him. He looked away from Links and towards the set of mugs, thinking he was having some sort of emotional reaction, which would have been pathetic to admit but still possible, but even looking away he could still feel the strange warmth in his heart.
He stared intently at the three ceramic mugs set out on the island counter, almost like they would give him the answers to his unrelenting questions. The calm warmth still flooded his veins, making him float aimlessly in the tranquility.
You know what? He should just set up the hot chocolate. Letting the hot water cool down would defeat the purpose of Yamada setting it out to boil in the first place. Besides, he wouldn't mind a nice, relaxing cup of cocoa right about now. What was the worst that could happen?
So he carefully grabbed the handle and moved the kettle towards the island where the mugs had been set out. Popping the lid on the spout, he did his best to even out the portions into each cup, noting the wave of hot air released against the bits of his skin that were uncovered. He still hadn't changed out of his grimey gym uniform, and a good portion of his arms were exposed since his undershirt had to be cut off of him. He should really change into something else, just to get these rags off of him, but he mentally promised to do it later. After all, if he left now, the water would sit and get cold.
Setting the kettle back down on the stove, he ripped open the first instant packet and emptied its contents into one of the mugs. But as he did, the powder settled right on the water's surface, making him huff. In annoyance, he reached for a drawer off to the side to grab a spoon, a piece of the bandage around his arm getting caught in the process. He really needed to take that off too, and he stretched to rip it off and get it over with, when Gami grabbed his wrist to stop him.
"Maybe you should wait until Present Mic gets home," he advised, "Recovery Girl did suggest to have others with you."
Well, the ghost did have a point. Maybe it was best for him to wait a little while. Though, the bandages were beginning to get in the way, as well as becoming a nuisance. He was itching to get them off his skin, but decided on carefully freeing them from where they were caught and taking the spoon as intended. Stirring together the contents of the first cup, it all mixed together quite evenly, so he continued that same process for the other two mugs.
Though Midoriya didn't usually add milk to his cocoa, something done more out of a conservation of money than much else, when he had enjoyed that one glass with Aizawa the other day, he couldn't believe what he was missing out on. So he hastily chucked the ripped packets into the trash and dashed to the refrigerator, yanking out the half gallon ever so carefully that nothing else fell over. There was just enough space in each mug to add a splash of milk, which would bring the water levels right to the top, but it was a necessary sacrifice.
He could see his mentory looking at the barely spilling cups very concerningly, but he just waved him off jokingly as he carefully remixed all of the drinks. He found himself oddly content in the current situation, a smile blooming on his face from origins he could not place. The warmth from before still remained, though not as intense, and if he was paying attention, he would have seen Links raise his cheeks reminiscent of a smile. It was a really pleasant atmosphere, and after all that had gone down in the past few hours, it was something more necessary than both he or the spirit truly realized.
The front door then slammed open, the sudden sound making him leap out of his skin as if he were transparent like his mentor. He nearly dropped the spoon he was using, but fumbled around and managed to catch it in midair before it could clatter to the floor. His heart rate skyrocketed in an instant, like he was right back in the center of the USJ all over again. His head lurched up, followed by Gami, the warm comfort being quickly replaced by startled panic. The kitten once beside him let out a pained screech of distress that tore his heartstrings to nothing but shreds and scurried off to solitude.
He wanted to run off and go check on him, a thought he never imagined he would actively think, but his eyes remained glued to the door, waiting for whoever was coming in, to which his subconscious positively knew was Yamada for obvious reasons.
"I can always make more," the blond sighed as he walked in completely distracted, holding the door for someone else, "It doesn't matter if all the water evaporated by now or not."
That's when the person Yamada was holding the door open for walked inside, shifting both their attention over to the boy awkwardly standing in the kitchen. The three locked eyes for a split second, but that was more than enough for everyone to figure out the situation.
There, right in front of the door, stood a mummy impression far better than his own back in Recovery Girl's office. But even under all those bandages, he knew exactly who was standing before him. The matted black hair, the signature tired eyes, the slouched posture, how could he not?
The spoon Midoriya was holding clattered to the floor.
"Problem Child?"
Aizawa stumbled towards him, much to Present Mic's dismay, but the hero couldn't stop him as he was still holding the door open. Midoriya too was drawn away from the island counter and to the start of the living room, compelled by the same wave of emotion that swept over the entire room. He stopped a few feet from his homeroom teacher, unsure of what to do other than stare in a concoction of disbelief and relief. His hands were unconsciously trembling, and even if he realized it, there was no way he would be able to explain it to himself.
He couldn't help but recall how the hero looked on the battlefield: battered, bloodied, and on the edge of death. The memory of the broken rise and fall of his chest almost began etching itself into him, to the point where he had trouble breathing on his own. Red seemed to seep into everywhere he looked, dripping through cracks in his conscience. His tired, raspy voice as he exhausted the last of his energy to make sure he didn't do anything stupid. And by his own standards, and the report on his condition, he hadn't been able to honor that. He was certain Aizawa knew that already, as he would have been more surprised if he didn't, but part of him was still afraid he'd let him down. Part of him was afraid that despite being face to face with the pro at the moment, he would feel farther away from him than previously thought possible. Part of him was just waiting for the teacher to rip into him, to go on about all the things he could have done better. Even now, with all his bandages wrapped around him, he still looked so much stronger than Midoriya could've ever been on the field. Was he really that inadequate? Did he really have that much farther to go before he could feel confident in his ability to protect others?
And then, a pair of arms wrapped around him and embraced him close, a feeling almost alien to him. Don't get him wrong, Gami had given him hugs before, but those had a cold chill to them, which was more comforting than it sounded. But this time was different. It was warm and reassuring, and before he realized it, he'd raised his arms back, clutching a mix of a ripped black jumpsuit and bandages. Before he realized it, there was a soft trail of tears dribbling down his cheeks.
The hug went uninterrupted for what seemed like forever, but it couldn't have been that long, as the teen heard Yamada close the front door in the background. Neither bothered to say a word, knowing the moment didn't call for that. Midoriya didn't think either of them were close enough for a moment like this to require words in the first place. But, they were close enough that a moment like this was more than necessary.
And though the boy wasn't in a position to see it, Gami, who was off to the side, got a clear view of Eraserhead's relieved expression. The ghost's own heart softened considerably. It was hard to think of the stern man that was Aizawa and imagine him in a vulnerable situation, but here it was, right in front of him. And who could really blame him? After everything that had gone down at the USJ, Gami too needed a moment to relieve his own stress. Though, whether that was with his successor or by himself was a different story.
"I hate to interrupt," a familiarly cheery voice came from behind them, "but there are things to be done."
True.
Midoriya detached his arms and dropped them to his sides, backing away from Aizawa quickly. He looked around, searching for the origin of the voice. Yamada seeing him like that, that was ok. He felt comfortable enough around the voice hero, but the last thing he needed was for the principal to see him so vulnerable.
Unfortunately, It was both Nezu and Tsukauchi who got to see him like that.
He could feel his soul slither back into the corners of his spine and the discomfort settled in instead. Tsukauchi stood by the front door awkwardly, his hat clutched to his chest, while Nezu stood in front of him, a cheeky grin plastered on his face. Yamada moved from the front door over to stand in the free space of the living room. He was doing his best to hide his proud smile, but he obviously wasn't doing a good job.
"Sorry if this startled you, little listener," Yamada apologized, "I wasn't really expecting you to leave your room, not that that's a bad thing…"
True.
To be honest, Midoriya wasn't really expecting to leave his room either, but things just sort of happened and here he was. But he gave a bit of an uncomfortable smile to try and show that it was alright. Gami had now moved to float beside his successor, standing warily in preparation for whatever Nezu might want, because there was no way he didn't want something.
"Again, I apologize for cutting the reunion so short, especially to you Midoriya," Nezu continued, "But Tsukauchi-san and I are here to take the last of the statements for the USJ incident."
True.
That's right, the detective wanted to take those back in Recovery Girl's office, but decided against it. He must have taken All Might's already, since this stop was his last for the statements. And what about Aizawa? Were they here for his insight too? It was doubtful that the hero had a free moment other than this, since he was still wrapped completely in bandages.
But the underground hero just shrugged. "You mind if I change first? I don't exactly want to stay in this."
True.
"Of course!" The rodent gave a curt nod as the pro left before turning to the still stricken boy. "Tsukauchi-san needs your statement too Midoriya, so if you'd like to get started…"
True.
"Can I do something first?" he rebutled back, briefly eyeing the hallway behind him.
"Sure!" Nezu chirped, almost like he was giving out free hall passes.
True.
With that, the teen scurried off like a little mouse, down the hallway behind him. He vaguely heard Yamada say something about helping Aizawa with his bandages before leaving the open concept in favor of the small hall. But he paid little attention to that, arriving at the door to his room. He had left it slightly ajar, but upon seeing it again, realized it was a bit more open than he had recalled leaving it. Though, that's exactly what he was expecting as he raised one of his hands to knock gently.
"Hey, it's just me… err Izuku," he announced softly, taking a moment to pause, "I came to check up on you."
Gami looked at him confusedly. "You came to check on the cat?"
"Well, yeah," he explained a bit defensively, looking up at his mentor, "I mean, he did seem pretty afraid when everyone walked in."
"I did not mean anything by it," the spirit shook his hands in front of him, "It's just… unlike you is all."
But before he could respond back, a small cry came from inside the room. It didn't sound distressed or angry, so Midoriya assumed it was one of acceptance and pushed open the door.
The room was untouched from how he left it, which wasn't a surprise either. Everything was in place: his desk was just as messy as it always was, his plants neatly arranged on their bookshelf, the covers on his bed folded up to the pillows. Though, there was one difference, and that was the tiny, grey kitten peeking out from behind the side of his bed frame.
He walked further inside, pushing the door closed behind him. Once only a few feet away from the other party, he slowly crouched down onto the balls of his toes, resting his arms on his knees. He made soft eye contact, careful not to startle the feline back into hiding.
"I… I just came to check on you," he admitted, keeping his voice low, "You seemed pretty stressed out just now."
And though he swore it was his imagination, he could almost feel an air of agreement flood the room, like Links was reaffirming his statement as true.
"I really can't stay though." He pointed his thumb over his shoulder, right behind him where he knew the closed door was. "Nezu and Tsukauchi-san are waiting on me…"
The cat took a few more cautious steps forward, letting out a cry of what sounded like disappointment to his head, though he was sure that couldn't be. Getting a little nervous, he hopped back up to his feet in an attempt to put a little distance between them. But, he didn't run off, feeling unusually calm, just enough to stay a little bit longer.
"You can come with me if you want…" The words just kind of blurted out of his mouth, coming from seemingly nowhere. "You can leave whenever…"
Gami, who had been minding his own business, snapped his attention towards his successor at hearing that. "Are you sure? This seems extremely unlike you."
But Midoriya found himself scratching his head at his recent actions too. He knew how uncomfortable he got when around animals, Links included, and yet, he didn't find himself stressed at all about inviting the cat to come back with him. In fact, the idea seemed almost pleasant to his subconscious, which made absolutely no sense to his rationality. He knew something was definitely off, but he couldn't place it among the mass of swirling tranquility in his stomach. Were these emotions even his own? It was like the bewilderment he was experiencing never actually made it to his brain.
"Little listener? You coming?"
Yamada's voice echoed from beyond his door, though much too quiet for the hero to be standing directly behind it. It was likely that the teacher was calling from the living room area, which meant that Aizawa was probably there too. Realizing they were most certainly waiting on him, he scrambled to the door and swung it open, completely ignoring his closet filled with clothes much more comfortable than the dirty rags he was in.
He skidded into the open concept area that was the living room and kitchen, braking to a stop right at seeing everyone gathered together by the couches. Yamada and Aizawa sat together on a large cough, with the blond leaning into the armrest and the underground hero beside him in the middle. Separated by a small coffee table sat Tsukauchi across from them, on a slightly smaller couch, a recorder rested on his knee and a notepad in his hand. And Nezu sat off to the side on an armchair to himself, comically disproportionate.
"Oh? You didn't change?" Nezu wondered aloud, making him look down at his clothes awkwardly, "Well, I guess that's still fine. Come sit; make yourself comfortable."
True.
He didn't move from his spot though, furrowing his brows. "Like… sit together?"
Tsukauchi jumped in, nodding his head in confirmation. "Yeah, I'll be taking your statement and Aizawa's together, since he asked specifically for that."
Even more confused, he turned to the two heroes sitting side by side on the couch looking for reaffirmation, to which Aizawa nodded as well. He beckoned the boy to come sit with them on the large couch with a flick of his newly bandaged hand. Actually, now that he realized it, most of the bandages covering his homeroom teacher looked much newer than how he walked in. Yamada must have helped change them while they were together.
"I figured it'd be easier to do this together," the black haired man explained, "Of course, if you want that, Problem Child."
True.
Easier? Was he worried about him? He pondered both sides briefly in his head. He could probably manage the interrogation on his own, but it would be a lot of stress on his shoulders. Besides, everyone was already set up to do this together. But, could he handle that stress? Retelling everything he could remember: all those grueling details, his utter panic, his relentless fear, but with Aizawa and Yamada next to him. Could he be that vulnerable in front of them? Did he want to? Was it wrong for him to hate both options, and the sickening feeling that squirmed in his gut? He couldn't help but feel shaky and dizzy, his throat drying up faster than he could realize. Was he overreacting? Was this genuine? His emotions felt so… everywhere, and he couldn't pinpoint which were valid and which weren't.
And then, it was all gone, replaced by that strange sense of peacefulness that seemed to fill his lungs, like heavy liquor. He could breathe easier than before, and yet the air felt so sweet it was suffocating. It was best if he just sat down and got this over with, and he and Aizawa were in this together. Especially with Yamada, it would be nothing but support. He would give both Nezu and the detective the information they needed to know, hopefully provide them with the insight they were looking for, and then he'd be back to his room along with a warm cup of cocoa if he was lucky. Why was he even stressed about this in the first place?
He took a small step forward, unknowingly brushing against something soft and furry by his ankle. "No, that's fine… it makes sense."
True.
Gami floated out from behind him, stopping in between him and the empty spot on the couch. He held out one of his arms, the long sleeve draping down and covering his skeletal hand completely. And yet, even in the absence of words, his message was clear. After all, he knew his mentor couldn't do as much as his ghostly heart desired. And he also knew that it was the little things that made him feel all the more useful in his transparent state.
So he grabbed the rugged, yet comforting fabric that was the end of his sleeve, and allowed the spirit to lead him to the empty spot waiting for him. Sure, it was a little babyish, but he couldn't help the warm smile that fell upon his face. And he was certain Gami felt the same, if his slightly bubbly movements told him anything.
Aizawa scooted closer to Yamada, giving the boy more room between him and the armrest. He settled down, shifting into the side of the armrest, leaving ample room between him and the underground hero. Gami flew over to the free space beside the couch, standing offset from his successor, who had his hands clasped in his lap patiently.
Yamada, who had been sitting up tensely, leaned up further to make eye contact with the teen, his pointer finger stretching towards something off to the side. "Uh little listener, it seems you… invited a friend?"
Confused, he turned his attention over to where the blond was directing, along with everyone else in the living room. To his immediate bewilderment, even more so than he already was, Links carefully made his way from the hallway where he was just standing to his spot on the couch. Midoriya shared a quick glance with the ghost standing beside him, and then focused back on the small cat strolling towards him. To everyone's surprise, the grey ball of fluff stopped right at his feet and curled up, resting comfortably beside his ankle.
Midoriya swore his heart pierced through his chest at that, unnaturally starting up like a race car engine. But before he could shift uncomfortably and try to move away, that odd wave of calmness washed over him for what was too often to be coincidence. What was happening? The drastic change in emotions was getting to be too much on his conscience, and he was starting to question if what he was feeling was even him anymore. His heart rate slowed considerably, so much that he almost believed he was having a heart attack.
But after a shaky exhale, all that remained was a pleasant state of serenity. He was fine. He was ok. Why was he even worried anyway?
"Anyway…" Tsukauchi called, bringing all the attention back to him, "Ready to start?"
Aizawa gave an indifferent nod, though not without an air of seriousness. And with Midoriya's surprisingly straightforward nod, the detective switched his recorder on.
"Alright, this is Detective Tsukauchi Naomasa, speaking with Aizawa Shouta and Midoriya Izuku…"
"So you're saying that after Aizawa left to fight in the center plaza, you were warped away?"
Midoriya shuffled in his place, raising up a finger to scratch his cheek. "Well, most of the class was… unfortunately. It all happened so fast, none of us were really prepared for it…"
True.
Tsukauchi scribbled something down into the notepad he was holding. It had felt like ages since he'd sat down and started talking, and even despite that, they had barely made any leeway, with the detective stopping at every detail. And while he understood that was his job, it didn't make the process any less painful.
"And where were you warped?" he continued, pressing for more details.
"To the flood zone, with Mineta and Tsu… I mean Asui," the teen corrected himself, noticing Aizawa listening in carefully. The hero didn't need to turn his head for him to know, however. But it made sense, after all, this was the part where their paths broke apart.
True.
Yamada had been listening quietly since the start of the interview. He was there as moral support, as he had already given his statement before Midoriya had awoken in Recovery Girl's office. Still, this was hard information to swallow: the accounts of the entire USJ ordeal from the two people who had arguably suffered the most. He still didn't even have a solid picture of the entire invasion, and this account being his first images didn't make things any easier.
The detective pressed on as necessary. "Can you elaborate?"
"Well, I was dropped from above, into the waters of the flood zone," Midoriya resumed, pausing to take a slow breath, "I was almost attacked by a villain, but Asui saved me and hauled me onto the ship along with Mineta."
True.
Tsukauchi proceeded to ask about the details of the villain he encountered, to which he released as many as he could remember: his wide mouth, jagged teeth, and those marble-like eyes that glared right through him. And the detective soaked it all up like a greedy sponge, taking in every detail like it was the last drop of water he'd ever get.
"We tried to discuss strategy, but before we could finish, at least a dozen other villains surrounded the ship," he added, starting to feel a bit solemn at realizing how sour the situation turned so quickly. But before he could fall down that rabbit hole, a soft rub against his leg snapped him out of it, reminding him that Links was still here during all this.
True.
"Can you describe them? Anything that sticks out can be helpful." Tsukauchi pulled him back to the task at hand.
"Well, most of them had water themed quirks, which I'm sure wasn't a coincidence," the boy pondered, slipping into analysis, "I mean, they were at the immediate advantage. The only reason Mineta and I stood a chance was because we were lucky enough to have Asui warped with us."
True.
It was true. Asui's frog-like quirk excelled in the flood zone just as she said it would. And that was a miracle in itself, because without her, he had no idea how he would have been able to escape with Mineta. She was extremely skilled and he hadn't realized how versatile her quirk really was.
But he knew the real information he should have been focusing on. But could he really bring himself to talk about the villain with the finger rocket quirk, and what he actively considered doing to him? He had to obviously, especially after expressing interest in him back at the nurse's office. But he could leave out his harrowing thoughts about him, right? It wasn't like anyone knew about them, right? That was, other than Asui and Mineta, and he really didn't want to think about that right now. If Tsukauchi asked about his thoughts, then he'd cross that bridge when he got there.
"There was one villain," Midoriya started slowly, choosing his next words very carefully, "He had… some sort of finger rocketing quirk, which ended up splitting the boat into pieces."
True.
He could see the detective's eyes specifically narrow at that detail, but didn't write anything down in his notepad. Instead, he rested one of his elbows down on his knees, leaning forward.
"Thank you for that," he broke off, "Can you pick up where the boat was split apart?"
He was skipping the villain in its entirety? Well, it wasn't like he was complaining by any means. The less he had to talk about that, the better it was on his conscience. He could only hope that Mineta and Asui hadn't said anything about it either, because goodness, that was something he didn't want to talk about.
"Well… we managed to escape by using our quirks. Mineta's pop off quirk stuck all the villains together after I made a whirlpool that sucked them all in. Then Asui hauled us both off the ship towards the plaza."
True.
"And that's where you met up with Aizawa-san," Tsukauchi interrupted, to which the teen nodded.
"I was engaged in combat with a handful of villains at that time." The hero masterfully took over the conversation, likely due to his vast experience. "Maybe like 8 or 9, I'm not too sure."
True.
The detective nodded his head, signaling that his uncertainty was alright, but didn't interject, leaving his thoughts to be scribbled down on the notepad he was holding instead.
"That's about when I engaged with the blue haired villain with the decay quirk-"
"Shigaraki Tomura," Midoriya instinctively filled in.
True.
That made everyone turn their heads, all focusing in on him. The boy realized what he had done and flinched into the back of his skull, feeling the walls close in on him.
"You know his name?" the underground pro questioned, and though his voice held no sense of malice, its rough edges left much to be desired.
"A-ah… well, that's just what his partner referred to him as…" he rushed to explain.
True.
"Partner?"
"We'll get there in due time," Tsukauchi interrupted, calming everyone down. This was why he had advised against conducting this interview together. Not only was it frowned upon in police protocol, but there was a reason for that. It was easy to get sidetracked, witnesses could unknowingly tamper with each other statements, and there was even the risk of witness intimidation. Not that he thought Aizawa would do any of that, but they were all active risks that came with these kinds of group talks. But, the detective trusted the hero and his decisions. After all, they worked together on underground cases on an everyday basis. Even if he couldn't pick up on the man's thought process, he knew there was always a rational reason behind it. "Thank you Midoriya, the name is certainly helpful. Now, can you start right where you left off, Aizawa-san?"
The hero huffed through his bandages, "Well… Shigaraki certainly seemed more intelligent than he led on. He counted down the seconds between the activations of my quirk, and used that baseline to predict when I'd retreat after my next hit."
True.
He then lifted up one of his arms, holding the bandaged elbow in the air. Though it would have been difficult for someone to understand what he was alluding to without context, since the entirety of his arm was wrapped, Midoriya knew exactly what he was referring to.
"That's how he ended up disintegrating my elbow. Knowing that, he's probably our mystery intruder from yesterday."
True.
He recalled back to seeing his teacher skin flake off into the wind. It was a grisly sight, making him shudder at even just the memory. Gami placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, a gesture that never got old, letting his cold chill seep into his shoulder blade.
"I managed to get away and fought off the last of the loose villains hanging around the plaza," he finished while Midoriya played back those last moments in his head, "That's when I was attacked by the Nomu thing…"
True.
Tsukauchi looked up from his notepad. "Ah yes, the creature I've been hearing so much about. Please, describe it to the best of your ability."
"Well, I didn't engage much with it after it broke my arm and smashed my face in." The sarcasm dripped obviously off his tongue, but no one could really blame him for it. "But I know Midoriya could give you better information."
True.
And just like that, all eyes turned back towards the boy, who wanted nothing more than to shrink into the couch and have it swallow him whole. Not only was the attention bothering him, but he couldn't remember the last time Aizawa had called him by his real name. It was so odd and slightly uncomfortable to hear him refer to him as Midoriya instead of Problem Child.
But he shook his head, almost like shaking the thought from his mind. That was definitely not what required his attention at the moment.
"Well, Shigaraki said it has more than one quirk. I noted enhanced strength, speed, shock absorption, and hyper regeneration… but I'm not sure if it had any more."
True.
Tsukauchi bobbed his head, continuing to add to his notes.
"It… didn't seem sentient either," he added, shivering at its blank stare that popped into his memory, "It always just… stood around and didn't do anything unless Shigaraki ordered it to."
True.
He waited as the living room was filled with the quiet sound of scribbling, which only seemed louder in the heavy silence. He was beginning to get antsy in his spot, shuffling around slightly in an attempt to ease his anxiety. Gami rubbed softly into his shoulder, trying to calm him.
Aizawa picked up pace, not waiting for Tsukauchi to reassert himself. "It was then that I, as well as Shigaraki, realized Midoriya, Asui, and Mineta were hiding by the edge of the plaza."
True.
That reminder sent an uncomfortable shiver right through his nerves, making the very tips of his fingers tremble. As each memory and moment was resurfaced, along with it came the emotions that correlated, mainly being fear. He couldn't stop his mouth from drying up or his heart from instinctively racing. His hands grew clammy even under their many layers and goosebumps slithered up his skin. He just kept telling himself that he'd made it out alright, and so did everyone else. It all ended ok.
In another world, it might not have. But this time, it did.
"Midoriya?"
His head snapped back into focus. "I-I'm sorry, did you say something?"
The detective smiled warmly. "You're fine, I was just wondering if you could explain why you and the others stayed by the plaza edge instead of moving for the stairs. You can take it slow, you know?"
Yeah. Take it slow. He could do that. Swallowing down the bile that hissed its way up his throat, he took a heavy breath in. He didn't notice Gami shuffled nervously off to the side, wondering if he should interject with anything. But the ghost stayed silent out of hesitation, and so Midoriya spoke.
"We were going to… I mean, both Asui and I weren't comfortable being that close to… well… everything," the boy admitted, beginning to pick at his gloves, "But we… we just didn't move. I… I don't know why."
True.
Then, there was a gentle stop to one of his now bouncing legs, settling him and his frenzy down. He looked over, but it wasn't the chilling touch he was used to. Instead, Aizawa met his glance and gave him a slow, bandaged nod of understanding.
"You did the best you could, Midoriya." His voice held this warm air of reassurance he heard so rarely, he was almost sure his head was making it up. "That's all we could ever ask for in a situation like that."
True.
But had he? Now that it was over, there were so many things he could have done differently. He couldn't help but dwell on every little thing that nagged at him: his destructive priorities on the sinking boat, his failure to get Asui and Mineta away from danger as soon as he could, the slip up in his facade that nearly got Aizawa killed. It all seemed monumental, and it all made him want to shut down and stop talking.
"What happened next?" Tsukauchi asked.
He didn't speak at first, thinking the question was towards the man next to him, but when said man turned to him instead, his realization sputtered out like a leaky pipe. "Shigaraki lunged at Asui, but Aizawa-sensei erased his quirk before he could do anything. I made a follow up attack at Shigaraki, b-but only to try and get him away… but he called the Nomu to take the hit for him."
True.
The officer hummed, likely just to let him know he was still listening, and continued writing away. Midoriya wondered if he could get to look at those notes, see what kind of information the detective was picking up, or even his analytical process, but he doubted that would ever get to be.
"The Nomu grabbed me and threw me into the plaza." He didn't know why he was rambling at this point, maybe just to fill the incessant emptiness of his head. "It basically threw me around like a ragdoll like 1 or 2 more times and it… hurt."
True…
A short squeeze game from where the ghost was latched onto him, and he shrugged his shoulders, if only to respond back. He could admit, in the moment, he really didn't notice the pain all too much. Maybe it was the rush of adrenaline? He'd like to say it was out of his unwavering desire to make sure everyone remained safe, but he knew even that wouldn't have carried him as far as he made it. But he could certainly say, now that he knew just how badly he was injured in those moments, the pain hurt so much more, even if it was just phantom remnants. Hurt couldn't even begin to describe it.
Midoriya dear, you would have died.
His heart skipped a beat.
"Asui jumped in while I… was busy and managed to get Aizawa-sensei off the field, as well as Mineta. The three of them stayed on the sidelines for a little while longer before I convinced Asui to take Sensei up to the entrance so he could get help."
True.
But Tsukauchi interjected before he could continue any father. "You stayed behind?"
Midoriya scratched a bit at his bandaged wrist, still itching to take them off. "Yeah… I figured Shigaraki wasn't just going to let us all leave. And I stood a better chance out of all of them since I interested him."
True.
That made everyone do a double take, but thankfully this time Aizawa didn't burst in, leaving that to Tsukauchi. "Interested him?"
The teen took a heavy gulp, the discomfort from the memory crawling back under his skin. "Cause of our similar quirks. He didn't understand why I was trying to be a hero and… tried to get me to join his league…"
True.
He could almost hear a pin drop in that room, the silence eating away at the little confidence he had left. He noticed Nezu sit up from the armchair he was relaxing in, adamantly curious at the new information.
He grew ever more uncomfortable under the intense attention and felt his confidence breaking. "I-I said no…! But he really didn't like that…"
True.
The boy shrunk in on himself, wanting the universe to just erase him from existence right then and there. It was so silent, he swore it hurt arguably more than his injuries. His thumping heartbeat was louder than any voice, echoing so violently he was afraid it could be heard as easily as the ticking wall clock. Just please, please someone say something.
Then, a hand plopped itself down into his messy hair, still laced with dried sweat and dust. Fingers ruffled their way through his green locks, but they didn't have that cold chill to them as they usually did. He looked to the side in surprise, only to be met with a comforting stare from Aizawa. Well, as comforting as his mummy expression could be in the moment.
"Problem Child, you of all people should know your quirk doesn't define what you can and can't be," the hero reassured in a way that didn't really sound like him at all, "I know you'll be a great hero someday… you've got the heart for it after all."
True?
Yamada then leaned out to send his own warm smile, completely different from those announcer grins he was so used to giving out. And Gami too held him just a little bit tighter. And you know what? The contact felt strangely nice, he wasn't at all bothered by it. It felt warm to his soul, who had been starving for it unknowingly for so many years. So he smiled, feeling more content with himself than he usually did on a daily basis, which was way more than he could ever ask for.
Links, who he had completely forgotten about, gave a small nudge to his leg.
"Sorry to ruin the nice moment," the detective coughed, bringing everyone back to him, "But I'm almost done."
And the mood was just gone. It disappeared so quickly, it was like it had never existed in the first place. It was so odd, like all the blood from his body was suddenly drained away. He could notably tell something was missing, something was there before and now it wasn't. But could an emotion have filled that space so fully, to the point where he could tell it was gone?
What was wrong with him today?
"Anyway…" Tsukauchi tried to start, but it seemed the awkward mood was getting to everyone, "What happened after Asui and Mineta left with Aizawa-san?"
Midoriya looked downcast, breaking eye contact. He shuffled slightly in his spot, running his hands up and down his arms, trying to warm the ice in his blood. With each stroke, the bandages wrapping his right arm fell more and more out of place.
"That's… when Shigaraki asked me to join him…" The words came out slower this time, as if he was also processing them for the first time. "Right after I declined, his partner, Kurogiri, showed up."
True.
"Kurogiri?" Tsukauchi interrupted, "The portal one?"
"Yeah… sorry." It was easy to forget not everyone had the same insight as him, but the detective thankfully just waved him off.
True.
"He warped me closer, as per Shigaraki's request." He pressed his fists together, his nails almost piercing the polyester. "I tried to get away, but it was three against one…"
True.
His hands instinctively returned to fumbling with the bandages on his right forearm, something that didn't go unnoticed by the room's other occupants.
"Please, take your time, Midoriya," the officer reminded, shifting his grip on his notepad.
"I'm… I'm fine," he doubled down on, unwavering.
False.
He breathed deeply trying to get the bravery to filter from his lungs to his head. It was over, it was done. Just because he was going through the memories didn't mean he had somehow traveled back in time. He was better than this.
Right?
Right.
"I was restrained by the Nomu, and in that time Shigaraki was able to use his quirk on my right arm. I managed to escape, and a few moments after is when All Might arrived."
True.
It came out easier than he thought it would, and surprisingly, it was relieving to finally get off his chest, even if it hadn't been sitting there long. Though, the information was news to everyone else, and boy was the first bite much harder to take.
Aizawa gripped his scalp with one of his pained hands. "I should have been there…"
True.
And it was clear everyone in the room was sharing that sentiment in some way, all feeling their efforts were inadequate if this level of horrific injury was still allowed to happen. Yamada and Aizawa both looked down to the bandaged limb the teen kept prodding at, whether out of physical or emotional discomfort. What was under there? Did Midoriya even know?
"Well," Nezu suddenly spoke, for the first time since starting the recording, "I think it would be best to have a police record of the injury."
True.
Everyone turned to look at the principal, some out of shock, some out of confusion, and some most certainly out of anger. Though Midoriya was the last one to turn his head, processing what was said at a much slower pace. Was Nezu asking for him to take off the bandages here? No, of course he was. What kind of stupid question was that? Of course that's exactly what the rodent was asking. Though, was it out of some sadistic satisfaction or was there something more behind it? He could never tell when it came to Nezu.
"Well, I can always get a medical chart from Recovery Girl after this," Tsukauchi reasoned, "I don't want to subject Midoriya to this if he's not comfortable with it."
It was thoughtful for the detective to consider his feelings about this, even though he didn't really know him all too well. But still, something didn't sit right with him as he continued to stare at the mammal in the oversized armchair.
"Ah, but we wouldn't want you going out of your way," Nezu insisted, "Especially if you can get the information you need right here."
True…
Information… Wait, what information exactly was on his medical chart? Would Recovery Girl have put down something about his strange power set there? Or something about his real condition? Based on Tsukauchi's current reaction, he doubted the detective knew the true details of his injuries. Would he be obligated to include them, or something similar in his report?
Nezu was trying to stop Tsukauchi from seeing Recovery Girl. Nezu was trying to help keep his secret. How he obtained knowledge of that secret he had no idea, but he was the principal, so it wasn't farfetched to assume the nurse told him some time in private.
He turned snappily to face the police officer. This option was much more favorable than having Tsukauchi roaming through his medical report.
"I'm… fine unwrapping the bandages right here," Midoriya assured, "If that's more convenient for you, sir."
True.
Neither hero was expecting that reaction from him, to which was a fair assessment. Nezu, on the other hand, smiled even larger, clasping his paws together while still keeping eye contact with the detective.
Said man scratched the back of his neck. "Well, I guess if you're fine with it. It would be easier for me…"
He couldn't lie, he was a bit nervous about seeing what laid underneath those wrappings. Thinking back, the pain was excruciating, and the gore certainly didn't pull any punches. Recovery Girl did say it was completely healed, but what kind of scar remained? He unconsciously thought about the burn scar that painted his right shoulder, almost making him huff at the irony of the situation.
But, this was for the best. And that was the mindset that got him to grasp the end of the bandage in his hand and pull it apart, much to the curiosity of the rest of the room, whether they wanted to admit it or not.
Rested on his wrist, was a slightly darker patch of skin, shaped into five messy fingers that made up the form of a hand. Even now, he could still see the grip it had on him, and it slightly unnerved him. The boy slowly turned his arm around to see the back, and relievingly, there wasn't much there. Most of the damage was focused on the front side of his forearm, which he guessed was manageable enough.
"I don't understand."
Tsukauchi moved the recorder up to his mouth and said something into it, likely recording details of the injury he observed, but he was too zoned out to truly know. It was just so… obvious and attention grabbing. He shouldn't have expected anything different, but there was a small part of him holding out for a better outcome. A small part of him that died upon unraveling those bandages.
"I don't understand you!"
Gami moved his supportive hand from its place on his shoulder, down to the newly revealed scar, resting its chill comfortingly on top. His long sleeve managed to cover his bony hand entirely, as well as the scar it was atop of, shielding it all from view. He looked up blankly, not sure what to feel.
"You will get through this… and I'm right here if you need me."
"Why do you keep going when no one is here to save you?!"
A smile pulled at his cheeks, but he wasn't sure if he was feeling it right now.
"Alright, thank you MIdoriya," the detective concluded, recapturing all the attention once more, "And unless you have anything more to say, that's all I really need."
"Um…" he had to muster up his voice once again, but there was one more thing that pulled at his conscience, "Shigaraki did mention someone called Sensei…"
True.
That was certainly new information, based on the way Tsukauchi's eyes widened. "Can you explain?"
"I don't know much. Shigaraki only mentioned him maybe once." He pressed his head for more. "He wanted to take me to him. It sounded like he admired him a lot."
True.
That was definitely one of the more unnerving possibilities from the fight. Being forced to a hostile land with hostile people, it was definitely way out of his comfort zone, and that was putting it lightly. Landing in what he assumed would have been the villains' lair, it was like something out of a video game, except this time it was real and terrifying. Speaking of lairs, that ran familiar in his head. Didn't Shigaraki also say something about that?
"Shigaraki also said something about a bar," he added, the pieces coming back to him as he went down the storyline, "That he didn't want to warp me conscious because I could tear the bar apart. Something like that, I think."
True.
Tsukauchi nodded, hastily scribbling down the last of his personal notes. "Alright, thank you again Midoriya. And you too, Aizawa-san. Both of you. For all your assistance and cooperation."
He then clicked off the recording device and his shoulders collapsed from their tense position. He allowed the notepad he was holding to collapse onto his knees, along with his arms.
"Off protocol, I really do want to thank you guys. I'm so glad both of you made it out alright," he sighed, "I won't take up any more of your time."
"It's no problem, Tsuka," Aizawa huffed, "You're just doing your job."
True.
The underground hero leaned back into the couch, finally getting to rest his eyes. Yamada did the opposite, standing up slowly from his spot and looking back to smile at the other two.
"How about I make some new hot cocoa?" he asked, "Since I'm pretty sure the ones on the counter went cold by now."
True.
"Sounds good," the black haired man groaned, not moving from his spot.
True.
Midoriya nodded eagerly, now craving the sweet drink after hearing its name. Yamada chuckled lightly under his breath and strolled off towards the stove to make a new batch of boiling water.
Nezu then pushed himself off the armchair, falling to his feet with a surprising amount of grace. His quick action encouraged Tsukauchi to get up from his spot as well, taking his recorder and notepad with him.
The two walked towards the front door and regathered their coats. The detective pulled his hat from the stand and placed it back over his short, black hair. He reached for his bag to put away his other belongings, when he remembered something important, taking the item off the hook and walking back towards the couch.
The teen only watched in confusion as he made his way back to him, now standing right across from him. He reached past the open clasp and pulled out a new, manila folder with nothing written on the outside. It was only as he was handing it to him that it clicked on what it was.
"It's not exactly with protocol," Tsukauchi started, "But here's the information you requested."
Both Aizawa and Yamada had their eyes on the exchange, their gazes not unlike suspicious parents. Gami cocked his head curiously, having forgotten about the request in its entirety until now. And Nezu, well, he stood right by the front door, head facing away but still a smile plastered on his face.
"I hope it helps."