Chapter 16: Aftermath
For a few long seconds, neither spoke. The plaza finally quiet.
Because All Might didn't know what to say. The words that usually came so easily, suddenly felt too small for this moment.
So instead, he drew a slow breath, shoulders lifting with it. "Follow my lead," he said quietly. As he raised his fist toward the sky.
The movement made Fenton flinch, so subtle most wouldn't have noticed. But All Might did and even as the seconds passed the teen didn't move to mimic him. He only stood there, staring up at the man, confusion flickering across his tired expression.
For several long seconds, neither spoke. The plaza had gone still, the noise of the aftermath fading into distant echoes.
All Might held the pose for a moment longer before his arm lowered. His breathing slow, the weight of battle pressing against his ribs. Then, at last, he let the air leave him in a quiet exhale.
"You did well."
But even as the words left him, they didn't feel right. They didn't feel like enough.
Hell, the lump in his throat felt more grand.
It was strange, finding the right thing to say had long since become second nature. Encouragement, reassurance, resolve. But now, standing here, looking into the teen's eyes, eyes that weighed him back maybe even more than his own. Nothing truly seemed right.
And deep down, he knew that was his own fault.
Still, he pressed on. His voice gentler, steadier.
"You've done enough."
He didn't know what he expected. But after a moment, the teen's head dipped, hair falling to shadow his eyes.
"No."
The word was so quiet the hero almost missed it. Then, a breath later, softer still, "...I haven't."
It wasn't much. Wasn't anything, really. Just three simple words. Spoken in a way that he knew weren't really meant for him at all. But to All Might… it hit him. Hollowed him. Left him off-kilter. Spoke to the little piece of him that existed behind the smile.
Because in those words, he heard something achingly familiar.
But while All Might lingered in that realization, the teen simply exhaled, steady, tired. Then, after a moment, his gaze lifted.
And for the briefest second, a small, worn smile curved his lips.
"But… thank you."
Then he turned away, eyes drawn back toward the entrance without hesitation. And even though his shoulders still carried that unspeakable weight, his voice came steadier, louder this time.
"I have to go."
And without turning back, he was off. Still going, without pause.
Not even realizing the state he left the deflating hero in. Or the onlookers.
But to Danny, there was no time to stop. No time to breathe. Only to move.
Launching himself forward as air rushed past him. His flight was unsteady, wavering from fatigue, but he pushed through it until he reached the top of the staircase, boots hitting the ground harder, less gracefully than usual.
His eyes swept the immediate area. Searching. Scanning.
But he didn't see him.
A voice broke through somewhere on his right, one of the pros dressed like a cowboy stepping toward him. "Hey, kid, are you alright?"
Danny barely registered it. His steps carried him past, eyes still darting, head turning every which way.
Then more voices, familiar ones this time.
"Fenton!"
"What the hell was that—?"
"Are you okay?!"
He looked up for only a second, enough to see the faces of his classmates.
And although relief flickered within him, he didn't slow. He couldn't. Not until he found him. Made sure he wasn't—
His pace quickened, weaving through the chaos. The walkway was crowded now, heroes, medics, police, but somehow, he managed to not brush against any of them. Not once.
Questions and shouts trailed after him like static, fading as he slipped around one person after another.
Until finally, through the blur of motion and noise, he caught sight of a space suit standing near the wide-open doors. Posture tense as rescue teams rushed in and out around them.
"Thirteen!"
His voice cut through everything, loud and urgent.
The rescue hero turned just as Danny pushed closer, exhaustion and panic finally surfacing in his tone.
"Where is he? Where's Aizawa?"
Thirteen's visor shifted slightly as she took in the teen, reading the urgency in his voice. And without a word of delay, gave a firm nod.
"Follow me."
Danny moved without hesitation, following after her through the doors until sunlight hit his face.
Warm and gentle, it caught him off guard. His eyes squinted from the sudden brightness, the way sunlight should on any ordinary day. And for that single moment, he could almost believe it was one. That everything had been some strange, exhausting daydream. That if he just took another breath, it would all fade into nothing more than an afterthought.
But as his gaze shifted, the false illusion was the only thing to disappear.
The air outside buzzed with motion, police shouting orders, sirens blaring. While medics and heroes moved fast. The steady hum of ambulance engines filling what little quiet that remained. And the closer he stepped toward one of them, the clearer it became how real everything truly was.
When Thirteen stopped at the back of an ambulance, so did he. His body which had been mindlessly following the heroes every step coming to a sudden halt.
As his eyes darted past her and into the open space beyond. Where he could see tubes and wires. And someone moving with purpose and steady hands, over a motionless form. While the sharp, rhythmic beep of a monitor cut through everything else.
And then he saw it. A mess of black hair against white bandages.
It hit him all at once. Too fast. Too hard. His stomach twisted, and for a moment, he thought he might actually throw up.
A paramedic moved to close the doors, pausing just long enough to glance at them. "Is he family?"
Danny didn't answer. Couldn't. His throat refused to work, and the noise of the world pressed in from all sides.
In his place, Thirteen's visor tilted toward him. Her voice quiet and steady, "Do you want to go with him?"
His skin felt cold, clammy. Something that shouldn't even be possible. But he forced himself to swallow, pushing the lump in his throat down, and managed a single, small nod.
Thirteen turned back to the medic.
"He is."
The paramedic gave a quick nod, already moving. "Then get in, we have to go."
It wasn't said harshly, just firm and professional. The kind of voice that left no room for hesitation, only motion. Something that he needed at the moment, desperately clung to even.
As despite every instinct telling him not to, every memory that made his chest tighten at the smell of antiseptic and the sterile shine of metal. Danny stepped forward. One boot, then the next, until he was in.
Once sat, in the seat the medic had wordlessly directed him towards. The doors shut with two damning thuds, and the world somehow narrowed impossibly closer.
But at least the noise outside dulled, replaced by the low hum of the ambulance and the beeping of the monitors.
And for better or worse, he could see him better.
Aizawa lying motionless under the bright cabin light, his face half-hidden beneath gauze and oxygen tubing. The steady rise and fall of his chest was faint, uneven. But it was still there.
Danny's hands curled together on his lap, thumb rubbing over the other in a quickening rhythm. He felt so small.
He wanted to say something to the medic. Ask if he would be okay, but he couldn't.
So instead, he stayed silent.
Even as the ride stretched on, feeling close to endless. Each turn, each bump in the road, stretching the seconds thinner and thinner.
Then, all at once, everything sped up once again.
The moment they stopped, the doors burst open. Voices overlapped, orders, questions, the screech of wheels as the stretcher was pulled out.
Danny moved on instinct, following after them, as they rushed through sliding glass doors. The smell hit him instantly. And while he'd thought the ambulance was bad before, this was worse. Nauseating.
Then the blur of uniforms, scrubs, flashing lights.
It was too much. He couldn't keep up.
He barely noticed the looks he got as he passed, some confused, some even wary. Whispers followed him down the hall. Not the stares, not the murmurs. Not the fact that his skin still glowed faintly, that he was still transformed.
All he could focus on was the stretcher ahead.
And just when he thought the Nomu had been fast, it was nothing compared to this.
Before he knew it, someone told him he couldn't go any further. But the words didn't even register until two doors swung shut right in front of him.
He took a quick step back. Reading the sign above, 'Surgery'.
For a long moment, he just stood there, frozen, staring at the word. Then, slowly, his body remembered how to move.
He turned and walked until he found himself in a waiting room. Fluorescent lights humming above him. As a clock ticked somewhere nearby.
And he sat down in the nearest chair and hugged himself.
Line Break -
Back at the USJ, almost everyone in Class 1A was finally together once again. Gathered outside in the sun, dust and dirt clinging to their uniforms. Clustered where they had been told to stay for the time being.
Besides, of course, two very notable exceptions.
For now, though, no one mentioned them.
"Guys, you should've seen Ojiro!" Hagakure's voice chimed from the group, bright despite the faint tremor in it. "He's such a good fighter! I mean, I always knew you were strong, but wow!"
Ojiro blinked, tail twitching awkwardly. "Uh… thanks?"
Yaoyorozu glanced between them, brows slightly furrowed. "So, you two were together then?"
"Yeah!" Hagakure nodded, her gloves gesturing wildly in the air. "We got sent to the fire zone, it was so scary! There was smoke everywhere and it was so hot, but Ojiro totally kept his cool!"
Kirishima grinned, clapping Ojiro on the back. "Good job, man! Way to stay unbreakable."
Ashido nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, honestly, I didn't think you were that strong, since you don't talk much. Plus during combat training, but then again you were up against, ah—"
She froze mid-sentence, the name she'd been about to say hanging heavy in the air.
There was a half-second of silence before she forced a laugh. "...But I always knew you had it in you!"
Kaminari jumped in almost instantly, acting out a karate punch. "Yeah, Ojiro's got those secret martial arts moves, man. Totally underestimated."
"Yeah, totally," Sero added with a lopsided grin. "He's like, the quiet powerhouse type."
"I wouldn't go that far," Ojiro said quickly, rubbing the back of his neck. "But where were you sent?"
"Oh, me and Sato lucked out," Sero said, leaning back slightly. "We ended up in the windstorm area with Tokoyami."
Kaminari groaned dramatically. "Aw, man, that sounds way better! You got the cool, mysterious bird guy on your team."
Jiro smirked, crossing her arms. "Yeah, must've been nice being with someone capable."
Kaminari glared at her, "Wow, okay, low blow!" He said in mock offense, as he placed a hand over his heart.
That earned a few weak laughs, the kind that came too easily but died too fast.
Tokoyami, standing a bit off to the side, simply shook his head. "It was nothing notable. The villains we encountered were disorganized, small-time thugs at best."
"See?" Mineta piped up, his voice a little too high. "That's exactly what someone strong would say!"
Sero snorted. "Wait, where were you, anyway? Did you even get warped?"
"He was," Shoji said, his voice calm but tired. "But a few of us didn't get warped away. Me, Uraraka, Ashido, Iida, and well... we stayed at the entrance."
Kaminari perked up slightly. "Oh yeah, and we picked up Aoyama on the way back! Dude was just standing there posing when we found him." He grinned, shaking his head. "No villains anywhere near him."
Aoyama straightened his posture, brushing imaginary dust off his shoulder. After a brief, awkward pause, he gave a small smile. "But of course. I am simply too très chic to be attacked."
That earned a few tired giggles, real ones this time.
"Still," Uraraka said softly, her eyes flicking toward the ground, "I'm just glad we all made it out."
Iida nodded beside her, his tone steady but subdued. "Indeed. It's thanks to everyone working together that we're even standing here now."
Kirishima grinned, his usual energy flickering back for just a second. "That's only because you ran and got help, man. Don't sell yourself short."
Iida froze, straightening in alarm. "W…what? No, I simply…! That is to say—" He waved his hands rapidly, eyes darting between his classmates. Then, quieter, almost to himself, "That's only because he… got me to go."
No one commented, but the name that went unspoken hung there, the meaning understood. The group fell silent again, not from discomfort this time, but out of quiet acknowledgment.
Then Shoji went on quietly, "Mineta and Asui came later. They carried… him back."
He stopped. Another name hanging in the unspoken.
Asui blinked, then filled the silence softly. "We were sent to the shipwreck zone."
"Yeah," Mineta barked, far louder than needed, "and I almost died because of how reckless Midoriya was!"
"Mineta!" Asui's voice was sharp as she clamped a hand over his mouth, but the damage was already done.
The sound of that name, one of the three they'd all been carefully avoiding. Hit like a dropped weight. Making the conversations stop cold.
For a few seconds, no one spoke. No one even looked at each other.
Then, as if trying to shake it off, Sero forced out a laugh, the creases around his eyes not matching the smile. "Well, guess that just leaves Kirishima and those two."
He gestured vaguely toward Todoroki and Bakugo, who stood apart from the rest, both staring down at the ground.
But at the mention of his name, Bakugo's head snapped up. "Hey! That's none of your damn business!"
Several students sighed, a few even chuckled. From the sense of normalcy the teens' anger brought.
"Yeah, yeah, calm down, man," Kirishima said, waving a hand at him. Which only seemed to make the blond bristle more. "We ended up together. Got dropped in the same spot."
Sato nodded, arms crossed. "Makes sense. You two were the first to get warped."
Another hush fell. The comment seemed harmless enough, but the reminder of the first fight hit hard.
Kirishima's grin faltered just slightly before he made his tone lighter again. "Yeah, well… after that, we made our way to the central plaza. To help where we could." The boy knew he was skipping over quite a few things, but, well that was for the best.
And just like that, the tension eased, if only a little. A few murmurs of agreement followed, a few jokes traded, their voices overlapping again, filling the uneasy space.
Not far from them, a man in a tan trench coat stood, quietly speaking with a police officer who had the head of a cat. Many of the students watched them from the corner of their eyes, waiting, half for answers, half for permission to stop pretending everything was fine.
"Perimeter's fully secured now," Officer Tamagawa reported, his voice slightly muffled behind the white dust mask he hadn't yet taken off. "Heroes are sweeping the area but it seems that the attack was purely isolated to this facility. And all the villains that remain have been detained."
Tsukauchi gave a short nod, his gaze drifting briefly towards the USJ's dome, and the villains being placed into police cars. "Still, we can't let our guard down. Not when the main threats got away."
"Agreed, sir." Tamagawa flipped through a small notepad. "As for the injured. Eraser Head was in critical condition but has been transported. And it seems one of the students went with him."
Tsukauchi couldn't help but close his eyes. Already knowing exactly who that student must be without even needing to ask.
"The other injury reported was another student," Tamagawa continued, scanning his notes, "but nothing severe. He's been taken to the nurse's office to be treated by Recovery Girl."
Yet again the detective nodded, a tired sound escaping him, half a sigh, half a hum of acknowledgment. From the information he already knew. Recalling how he had to escort All Might and that student out without anyone seeing.
He pushed the thought aside and straightened. "What about the students still here?"
"They're shaken, but safe," Tamagawa replied. "Medical's cleared them and one of UA's buses is on its way now."
"Good." Tsukauchi's eyes lingered again on the small crowd of teens, their nervous laughter, the forced smiles. Children trying not to look like they'd just seen death up close. "They've been through enough for one day."
The detective adjusted his coat, glancing back toward the dome one last time. "Once the buses leave, keep the perimeter locked. No one in or out without clearance. And I want full statements from each and every villain as soon as possible."
"Yes, sir." Tamagawa nodded, before he seemed to deliberate for a moment. "...And what do we do about… that? " His head turned to a large armored police car that was being heavily guarded.
Even with how vague the question was, Tsukauchi knew who, or what he was referring to. The only major villain they had been able to capture. And from what All Might had told him, it was called Nomu.
When he'd first arrived, the state of the massive, mutated creature had been shocking. Its body breaking down and then knitting itself back together all over again. But after sometime, the effects on whatever quirk had been used on it wore off. Leaving it to fully heal, without even a scratch on it. The heroes had braced themselves, expecting it to attack. But it hadn't so much as twitched since.
And from what he understood, it wouldn't. Not until it was ordered to.
"It's to be transported to a secure facility for examination," Tsukauchi said at last, his voice low and even. "High-priority containment. Make sure no one touches it more than necessary, and no one gets close without proper clearance."
Tamagawa gave a curt nod, already reaching for his radio, but hesitated. "Hard to believe, isn't it? That a teenager managed to fight that thing. Even with All Might's help."
Tsukauchi's brow furrowed slightly, his expression unreadable. He didn't respond right away. Just looked at the armored car. As a quiet thought rose at the back of his mind, 'I wonder… who exactly helped who'.
He exhaled through his nose, the faintest sign of fatigue slipping through before he turned away.
As a faint rumble grew louder in the distance. Moments later, a dark-blue bus came into view, sunlight glinting off the gold UA emblem painted on its side.
He watched in silence as it slowed to a stop, engine humming in the heavy silence that followed. The scattered conversations among the students tapering off.
And when Tsukauchi shifted his gaze to the sky, he caught sight of dark clouds gathering on the horizon. Slowly creeping in, blotting out the last traces of sunlight.
But the man squared his shoulders, smoothing the edge of fatigue from his face as he started toward the group. By the time he reached them, the corners of his mouth had settled into a reassuring smile.
"You've all done very well," he said, voice steady and gentle. "You're safe now. The situation's under control. And this bus will take you back to the main campus. From there, you'll each be escorted home for the evening, just as a precaution."
He paused, scanning the young faces that had turned toward him. But as no response came, he continued, further emphasizing what he'd said. "You've been through a lot today. But you're safe, and that's what matters. There's nothing more to worry about, alright?"
The words hung in the air, and still no real response came.
Some of the students shifted, glancing between one another, but no one spoke. As a faint breeze blew around them.
Tsukauchi hadn't expected them to cheer or relax, not after what they'd just been through, but he'd hoped for… something. A nod. A sigh. Some small sign of relief.
Instead, the quiet stretched, heavy and uncertain.
Finally, one student moved. A tall boy with blue hair stepped forward, hands tightening into fists at his sides before he spoke in a careful, measured way that wavered faintly at the edges.
"Sir," he said, his eyes searching the detective's face. "What happened to Mr. Aizawa, Midoriya, and Fenton, are they okay?"
Tsukauchi took a moment before answering, his gaze moving over the boy and the rest of the class standing close behind. All of them so young, and already burdened by something they shouldn't have had to face. But the past couldn''t be changed.
He exhaled slowly, the faintest sign of weariness slipping through before he spoke.
"Midoriya is alright. He was injured, but he's been taken to Recovery Girl. Her quirk should be all the treatment he needs. In fact he's with All Might right now."
The collective breath that followed was almost audible. Shoulders eased. Uraraka pressed a hand to her chest and murmured, "That's a relief…" A few quiet agreements followed, the tension loosening slightly.
Even as a light scoff came from the back from Bakugo, the only one still looking away.
But the slight comfort didn't last.
Tsukauchi's tone shifted, the warmth still there, but now it carried something heavier. "As for Eraser Head… he was taken to the hospital for immediate treatment."
The implication made the air thicken, a few mouths parting. Several students already opening their mouths to ask questions.
But the detective lifted a hand, before any could speak. Smile not faltering, even as his brows lowered slightly. "He's receiving the best care possible. He's in safe hands."
That seemed to settle them. If only because it was clear he wouldn't say more, in regards to their teacher.
For a moment, silence lingered. Then—
"...And what about Fenton?" A boy with red hair asked.
Surprisingly, the question made many of the students perk up in attention, more so than they already were.
Tsukauchi blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift. "Ah… well, that's… kind of hard to explain—"
But the same teen cut him off, stepping forward, his voice gaining strength with every word. "Sir, Fenton… he fought for us. Fought to keep us safe. And if he's in trouble now, we want to be there to help him. Please."
The raw sincerity in his tone struck something in the others. As heads nodded. Backs straightened. That shared uncertainty turned into something akin to quiet resolve.
And Tsukauchi found himself pausing, something flickering behind his composed expression. Because no matter how he looked at it, these first-years were truly remarkable. In the span of a single afternoon, they had learned what it truly meant to be heroes. And he couldn't help but think that, to some small degree, that boy was partially responsible.
When he finally spoke, his smile returned, softer this time, genuine. "Fenton's okay," he said, the words carrying real warmth. "He's not in any sort of trouble. He's already been taken home, safe and sound."
He knew it wasn't the truth, but he also knew that the real answer and the circumstances around it wasn't for him to share.
Relief rippled through the group, though a few brows furrowed faintly. Clearly his answer not quite sitting right with all of them. Still, no one pressed.
So Tsukauchi clapped his hands softly, gesturing toward the waiting bus. "Alright then. It's been more than just a long day for all of you. Let's get you home."
And one by one, they started filing in, the low murmur of voices rising again. Tired and uncertain, but moving forward all the same.
Tsukauchi watched as the bus pulled away. Only then did his lingering smile slip away. As he turned on his heels, scanning the area for the only person he could think of to help with what came next.
To find out if what he said was really true. To see for himself if Fenton was truly fine. Even if he already had a guess.
It didn't take long to spot the man he needed. Bright yellow hair, headphones resting around his neck, and that unmistakable energy. Made the hero more than easy to find.
"Present Mic!" Tsukauchi called, lifting a hand as he approached.
The hero turned, the edge of weariness clear even through his large grin. "Tsukauchi, hey! Didn't expect to see you this fast."
"Didn't have much choice," the detective replied. "I'm heading to the hospital. To check on Eraser Head and the student who went with him."
Mic's grin faded. He didn't ask who. He already knew.
"Yeah," he said quietly, adjusting his popped collar. "Yeah, I'll come with you."
No convincing needed.
The two men started toward the waiting vehicle. Overhead, clouds thickened, dimming what little light remained, just before the first raindrops finally began to fall.
Line Break -
Danny had been sitting in the same chair for what felt like forever. Over time, the ticking of a clock became the only sound that didn't change, a steady, constant reminder that kept him awake. While people came and went, murmuring in low voices.
His eyes stayed fixed on the floor, on the white tiles that blurred together the longer he stared. He didn't know how long he'd been like this, minutes, hours maybe. He didn't have it in him to keep track anymore as his mind drifted through fragments of the fight, the chaos, and the things the villains had said.
Then, finally, a pair of shoes stopped in front of him.
It took a full second for his brain to catch up before he finally lifted his gaze. He did quite know who he expected. He knew who he wanted it to be. But that was also the only person he knew for certain it couldn't be. So instead, the small part of him still present at least wished for someone familiar.
But instead, a woman stood there, speaking to him. A nurse, his mind eventually pieced together.
He heard words, but they didn't all make sense, his thoughts lagging, half-listening, half-floating. He nodded whenever she paused, not even sure what he was agreeing to.
Until she said something that finally broke through the haze.
"Follow me."
He blinked, frowning, "Follow you where?" he blurted out, louder than he meant.
Heads turned. Conversations faltered. But he ignored it.
The nurse, however, stopped and glanced back with a questioning look. Her tone slightly sharper now, like she'd already said it once.
"To Shota Aizawa's room," she replied. Then, with a tilt of her head, "You are family, correct?"
The words hit like a shock to his system. He stood abruptly, the chair that he honestly thought was fixed in place hitting the wall behind him with a loud thud.
"Yeah," he said, way too fast, but he didn't care. "I am! Is… is he okay?"
"Yes," the nurse replied, a hint of impatience slipping through. "I already said I'm taking you to him now."
She didn't wait for him to answer again, just turned and started walking. Danny followed, his legs stiff, like his body had forgotten how to move until just now.
The hallways stretched endlessly before him, lined with doors and pale lights that buzzed faintly overhead. Every sound felt too loud. From the squeak of shoes against tile, to the rustle of fabric, and the distant beeps and murmurs that slipped through half-open doors.
And after a few too many turns, he was completely disoriented. As he trailed a few steps behind.
They turned yet another corner. Someone pushed a cart past them. A nurse laughed somewhere down the hall.
It was strange. He'd faced villains, monsters, ghosts, things that screamed and clawed and refused to ever give up. But somehow this… this quiet, endless white-walled place felt so much worse.
Maybe because here, there was nothing to punch. No one to fight, besides himself.
When they stopped at a door, Danny's core buzzed loudly in his chest. As he rubbed his hands together, not even realizing they were still gloved.
The nurse glanced back. "He's still asleep, so try to keep your voice down."
Then the door opened and he could see the end of a hospital bed and the rise of a body covered in a light blue blanket. The faint hum of machines grew louder, and that sterile smell he could never get used to now clung to the back of his throat.
Suddenly, he wasn't sure if he could take another step.
"Well?" the nurse said after a moment, still waiting for him to go in.
And for all his strength, for every single power he had. Danny turned and walked away. Legs quickly carrying him, each step getting faster than the last.
He heard the nurse call after him, but he didn't stop.
Not until the noises quieted down. Just enough for him to think.
When he finally stopped, his hand found the wall. Palm pressing flat against the cool surface.
For a while, he just stood there, forcing air he didn't even need in and out, until the ache in his chest dulled into something almost manageable. And when it did, when he finally started to feel like himself again, his head followed his hand to rest against the wall.
That's when the guilt started creeping in. The type that was impossible to ignore.
He sighed, shoulders sinking as his weight leaned fully into the wall. His hand dragged down his face, fingers pressing at his eyes, then his temples, like maybe he could press the thoughts away.
"Real smooth, Danny," he muttered under his breath, voice low and tired. "Walk out on the guy who literally almost died because of you. Yeah, that's a great look."
He huffed a half-laugh, but it sounded more broken than anything. "Ten outta ten hero material right there."
Another longer sigh escaped him, eyes shutting, as he forced his shoulders to finally relax. "Okay, just… go back. You can still fix this. You don't even have to say anything. Just… stand there. Breathe. Don't freak out."
A beat passed. His lips twitched, but the humor fell flat. "Right. Because that's gone so well so far."
He pushed off the wall, but before he could even move the sound of footsteps stopped him.
"Fenton?"
Line Break -
Within Recovery Girl's office, Midoriya's eyes opened, his head rolling to the side with a groan. As the faint patter of rain grew louder.
For a moment, all he could do was stare at the sky, or what little of it he could see. It was a pale, cloud-heavy blue, the kind that made everything feel distant and muffled. His mind felt the same, foggy, slow to catch up.
He blinked, trying to focus, when a voice suddenly broke through the quiet.
"Ah, it's good to see you're finally awake."
He slowly turned his head the other way, the movement sluggish.
Recovery Girl stood beside his bed, her hands folded over her cane. As a small, knowing smile rested on her face. But past her, sitting up on his own twin-sized bed, was another all too familiar figure.
"...All Might? Recovery Girl?… How long was I out?"
In an instant a wide grin broke across the shriveled man's face. "Ha! Not long, young Midoriya. Only about an hour."
"That's what happens when you push yourself too hard and end up needing my care," Recovery Girl continued pointedly, "Although… I suppose this time, I can't entirely blame either of you."
Midoriya blinked a few more times, the haze in his thoughts slowly clearing as he sat up. His limbs still felt heavy, but almost all the pain was gone. Except for a dull ache that strangely came from his hands.
"An hour?" he mumbled, his voice embarrassingly rough. "It… feels longer."
All Might chuckled, not the booming laugh the world knew, but the tired, genuine kind that came from the man, not the symbol. "Yes, well, time tends to stretch a bit after you've saved the day, doesn't it?"
Midoriya couldn't help but look at him, confusion flickering across his face before he managed a faint, sheepish smile. "I… didn't really do anything though, All Might. Honestly all I managed to do was get myself hurt and get in the way."
He looked down at his lap, "If anyone deserves the praise… it's him." But as his own words caught up to him, he quickly looked back to the hero. "Oh! And you, of course."
All Might seemed to contemplate something for a moment, his grin unnoticeable lessening. As he raised a hand to stop the teen from diving into a tangent. "You're right. But that doesn't take away from what you did, even if it was reckless."
Midoriya knew what the hero was trying to do, but it didn't make him feel any better. Especially since All Might didn't even know about everything that had happened before he arrived. How he'd practically dragged his classmates toward the danger. Before almost getting hit by that villain.
The memory twisted in his chest. "If Fenton hadn't been there…" he muttered, barely above a whisper, "I don't think we would've made it."
All Might didn't respond, he couldn't. As his head turned, gaze lowering to his own lap. He already knew how differently things could have gone if Fenton hadn't been there, and not just for the students.
Unconsciously, his hand pressed against his side, right over the fresh bandages.
Recovery Girl's sigh broke the silence. "Oh, you two," she said, shaking her head. "So concerned with hypotheticals that you forget what really matters."
They both looked at her, drawn from their thoughts.
"You're both going to be alright," she said gently, "and so is everyone else." She paused, her expression flickering with something more sorrowful before adding, "...At least in the ways that count the most."
It was a small shift, but Midoriya's brows furrowed. "All Might… what does she mean?"
The hero sighed, he really didn't want to bring this up, not now, not after everything that had happened.
"It's nothing you need to worry about," he said at last, his smile brightening even as his voice dropped an octave. "But I'm fairly certain my time limit's shortened again."
Midoriya's eyes widened. "What? …All Might, I… I'm so sorry—"
"Hey now," the man cut in quickly, still smiling, though there was a hint of strain behind it. "Didn't I just say not to worry? Besides, I'm not out of the race yet."
In a puff of smoke, muscle rippled across his frame. His grin widened as he struck a familiar pose, flexing his arm despite the bandages coming apart thread by thread.
"See? Still got plenty of power left in me!"
But just as quickly as he inflated, he deflated. As blood spewed from his mouth, but the hero just laughed it off, wiping it away as if it were nothing.
Midoriya's concern deepened as he watched him. He could've sworn he heard Recovery Girl mutter something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like 'idiot' as she hurried across the room to grab more bandages.
But he couldn't bring himself to say anything, because in that moment, as he looked at the man forcing a smile, laughing through something so clearly painful… all he could see was his classmate.
"All right, that's enough out of you," Recovery Girl snapped, glaring at the deflated hero. "I just finished patching you up. Try not to undo my work in under a minute."
Then her gaze shifted to Midoriya, still sitting frozen on the bed. Her tone softened slightly. "And you, young man, you should start getting ready to head home. It'll be dark soon."
But Midoriya could only half-heartedly nod, his gaze dropping to his hands. To the ache, as he couldn't help but stare at the big pink blotches of new scars littering his palms and wrists.
Line Break -
Danny's head snapped up, startled.
Although to his disbelief, his ears weren't wrong.
Detective Tsukauchi stood a few feet away, calm but watching him closely. Beside him, Yamada hovered, worry clearly etched into his usually smiling face.
'Oh, great'
Danny straightened almost too fast, like his body was trying to pretend it hadn't just been halfway melting into the wall. He forced a grin, one that felt stiff and a little too wide.
"Hey, Detective. Yamada," he greeted, voice light, too light. "You guys uh… patrol all the way out here now? Because if so, I definitely missed that memo."
Yamada's brows furrowed.
Danny rubbed the back of his neck, his laugh coming out thin. "Right. I probably look like I just lost a fight with gravity or something. Promise I'm fine… just, y'know, catching my breath. Hospital air's heavy."
He gestured vaguely at the hall, as if that explained anything, before forcing his hands to still as their faces only continued to morph with varying degrees of concern.
"Kid, are you alright?"
Danny blinked, his smile faltering for half a second before snapping back into place. "Me? Yeah, totally. Picture of health. Five stars, would recommend."
Yamada tilted his head, unconvinced. "You sure? Cause you don't look so good. Also why are you still in that form?"
"What?" Danny questioned, as he quickly looked down at himself. Finally noticing the familiar black and white suit. "...Oh"
For a moment, no one spoke. Tsukauchi's eyes stayed on him, steady, patient, weighing something carefully. Then, before Yamada could fill the silence, the detective finally spoke.
"Danny."
The way he said it, like he could see right through him, made him freeze. It was the first time in what felt like forever someone had called him by his first name, not 'kid' or 'Fenton'. Just Danny.
It made him lift his head automatically, eyes meeting Tsukauchi's. While whatever half-strung excuses he'd been pulling together became lost to him.
"It's okay if you're not fine. No one expects you to be. Not after everything that's happened."
His brows lowered and his smile fell. For a moment, all he could do was stare, gaze flickering over the man's face. Before he had to look away.
He just needed a moment and surprisingly he got it.
"I am fine, really. It's just this place is a bit much." He waved a hand vaguely at the sterile white walls. "Kinda has that 'haunted by bad life choices' vibe, y'know? Real cozy."
Yamada huffed a short laugh through his nose, but Tsukauchi didn't take the bait. Just kept watching him with that unreadable look that made Danny feel like every word was being quietly measured.
The grin faltered again, thinner this time. Danny's shoulders sank as he rubbed the back of his neck, eyes darting to the floor. "...Sorry," he mumbled, softer now. "Guess jokes aren't really helping."
Silence lingered for a beat before he finally sighed, his voice small. "How's everyone else? The others… are they okay?"
Tsukauchi's tone softened immediately. "They're fine," he said. "Thanks to you."
"What?!"
"Danny, what you did today…" Tsukauchi began, the words careful but sincere. "You put yourself between them and something no one that age should ever have had to face, including you. You—"
"—Got lucky," Danny cut in, forcing out a short laugh that didn't sound right. He shook his head, gaze falling again."That's all it was. Luck. If anything, they almost died because of me."
"Hey," Yamada started, "that's not true. Besides, your classmates are a lot tougher than you think. Honestly, a lot of them saved themselves."
"And that's the point!" Danny's voice cracked, rising before he caught himself. "They shouldn't've had to! I should've kept them safe, kept everyone safe." He stared down at his own hands, watching them tremble. "I should've done more… been better… been smarter. If I'd just—"
"Danny." Tsukauchi's voice cut through, steady but firm enough to stop him.
He froze.
"None of what happened today was your fault. The people who attacked, the ones who hurt your classmates, they're the ones responsible. Not you."
For a long moment, Danny didn't move. His mouth opened like he might argue, but no sound came. Slowly, his shoulders sank, some of the fight bleeding out of him.
He let out a shaky breath, eyes fixed on the floor. "Yeah, I… I know that, but…" he muttered, though it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself.
Yamada sighed, crossing his arms, the usual grin gone. "Kid, you gotta cut yourself some slack. After all… you're only human."
Danny's breath hitched, every muscle in his body tightening back up.
Tsukauchi noticed the change immediately. The way the boy's shoulders went rigid, the faint flicker of something unreadable crossing his face before it vanished just as quickly.
"Danny?" the detective asked softly, taking a step closer.
But before his hand could land on the teen's shoulder, Danny moved, just a small shift, as he pulled his shoulder back. His head snapping up, eyes wide before he took another step back, putting space between them.
"Hey, it's okay," Tsukauchi said, trying to figure out what had caused this sudden reaction.
"I'm fine," Danny said, too fast. He raised a hand like a barrier, forcing a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Really, I'm fine. I just…" His gaze darted away, breath coming unevenly. "I just need to… check on something. Yeah. There's something I have to—"
"Fenton," Yamada started, brows raised.
But before either of them could move, he was already turning, "It's fine, I'll be fine, I just need to—yeah—sorry—"
"Danny!" Tsukauchi's voice cut through the hall, but the kid was already gone, footsteps fading fast.
Yamada exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "…That didn't seem fine."
Tsukauchi's eyes stayed fixed on the corridor Danny had disappeared down, his jaw tight. "No," he said quietly. "It didn't."
Danny didn't remember moving. Only that he needed to get away.
Feet carried him down vaguely familiar halls, turning corners without thought. He didn't know where he was going. He just needed to move, to get away.
He swore he could feel his core pulsing unevenly, like it was trying to burst right out of his chest.
Another corner. Something about it tugged at his memory, but he didn't stop long enough to figure out why.
Voices. Ahead. Laughter. He couldn't—
His breath hitched as he spun, finding the first door he could, and slipping through it. The door clicked shut behind him, too loud, but he didn't care.
He leaned back against it, chest heaving, one trembling hand clutching at his core as if he could force it to steady. The pressure burned, and his breaths came in uneven bursts that barely reached his lungs.
A dim light flickered faintly off the wall and door. It took him a second to recognize the pale, unsteady glow that was coming from his own body.
He squeezed his eyes shut, pressing the heel of his palm hard against his forehead until spots danced behind his lids. The trembling wouldn't stop. His chest still felt like it was caving in.
"Stupid," he hissed under his breath. "You're so stupid—"
When he finally reopened his eyes he looked across the blessedly dark room.
Only the dim city light filtering through tall windows vaguely illuminated the room. As raindrops ran down the glass in silver threads, each one catching the glow from the streetlights below. The faint rhythm of the rain was grounding, almost.
Under it, he swore he could still hear machines beeping. The ghostly sound of a heart monitor, ringing in his ears.
Danny squeezed his eyes shut, trying to match his breathing to that rhythm. In. Out. In. Still too fast and too loud.
He tried to remind himself he didn't even need air. That he was fine. But it didn't help, he felt like he was collapsing from the inside out.
'Just calm down. You're fine. You're fine. You're—'
"...Who's there?"
Danny froze.
That voice, low and rough, was unmistakable.
His stomach dropped. 'No, no, no, no', of all the rooms he could've stumbled into.
His eyes darted toward the vague silhouette at the far end of the room, the outline of a bed, someone slowly shifting.
He tried to will himself still, quiet. To not get caught, not right now, not when he was like this. But his body wasn't listening.
Too shaky and too loud in the silence. His fingers twitched against the door, but he couldn't make himself move in a way that wouldn't betray him.
Then, the voice again. Gentler this time, more awake.
"...Kid? Is that you?"
Danny's eyes widened. His hand flew up to cover his mouth. But his breathing wouldn't stop shaking, no matter how hard he pressed his palm against his lips. The sound of it still slipped through, ragged and uneven.
"...Come here."
He didn't move. For a few long seconds, he just stood there, torn between bolting again and doing what he was told. But he was so tired and deep down he knew he didn't have it in him to keep running.
So he took a step that felt too loud against the tile, then the next. His body leading him further into the room. As his vision swam a little as the dim light from the monitors grew brighter. Until he stopped beside the bed, the chair there waiting like it had been expecting him.
He sat down slowly, quietly. His arms folding around his torso, holding himself together as he tried not to look. But the longer he sat, the more his eyes adjusted.
The faint blue glow from the monitors painted Aizawa in fragments. The rise and fall of his chest under a thin sheet, the bandages that covered most of his head, even over his eyes. Wires trailed across the bed, disappearing into machines that beeped softly, steady and unbothered.
Danny swallowed hard, guilt crawling up his throat like something alive. He dropped his gaze to the shadowed silhouette of the side of the bed, hands gripping into his sides.
"You're breathing too fast," Aizawa said, voice low but steady. It wasn't a question. "Count it out."
Danny blinked, the sound of his own pulse, or whatever passed for it roaring in his ears.
"Five in," Aizawa continued quietly, like he'd done this before. "Hold for two. Seven out."
Danny hesitated, unsure if he could even do that right now or why he should even bother. But something in that voice, grounded, calm, unshaken, cut through the noise.
He inhaled, slow but shaky. One, two, three—
"Keep going," Aizawa murmured. "Don't think. Just breathe."
Four, five. He held it. One, two.
Then let go.
It came out uneven, but it was quieter.
"Again."
He did. This time the air didn't catch so sharply in his throat.
"Good," Aizawa said after a moment. "That's it. Keep your focus there. Not on what happened. Not on what you think you should've done. Just… breathe."
Danny's grip on himself loosened. His next exhale came easier, even if it trembled at the end.
For a moment, neither of them said anything. The rain against the window filled the silence, steady and soft.
Then Aizawa spoke again, quieter. "You did good today."
Danny's head tilted slightly, but he didn't look up. He didn't trust himself to.
"...You almost died." The sound of his own voice, wet and awful, made him flinch. He hadn't meant for it to sound like that.
But without missing a beat, Aizawa replied, "So did you."
Danny blinked, caught off guard. His head lifted just enough for his eyes to find the faint outline of the man on the bed. "What? That's… that's not the same," he stammered, shaking his head. "I… I always get back up."
The words slipped out before he could think, and the second they did, his stomach twisted. While the quiet that followed felt different.
Aizawa didn't move, but his tone didn't waver either. "Why's that?"
Danny froze. His mouth opened, but nothing came out. He wanted to laugh it off, make some kind of joke, but it caught in his throat. Because Aizawa didn't sound accusing. He sounded curious. Like he genuinely wanted to know.
And that made it worse.
"I… I just do. I always do. No matter what happens, I get back up," Danny murmured, his voice thin, uneven. His gaze flickered to the wires, the machines, the bandages that covered half of Aizawa's face. "While everyone else, they…" He swallowed hard. "They end up hurt."
He could feel it again, the static under his skin, the tremors starting in his fingers.
"Good."
Danny's head snapped up, startled. "What?"
"I'm glad you get back up," Aizawa continued, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Because if you didn't… a lot more people would've gotten hurt today."
"You don't even know what fully happened."
"No. But the fact that I'm here tells me enough."
Danny huffed out a sound that wasn't quite a laugh. "That's… a pretty low bar. You do realize you're hooked up to like five different machines?"
Aizawa's mouth twitched, just barely, but enough to be there. "Still breathing, aren't I?"
Danny blinked, caught between a laugh and disbelief. "That's your standard for 'fine'?"
"Better than the alternative."
Danny huffed again, this time a real laugh, quiet but raw around the edges. "You really don't know how to make someone feel better, do you?"
"Not my job," Aizawa murmured. "I leave that to Yamada and All Might."
Danny's lips twitched, the smallest smile threatening to form. "Yeah, I can tell. You'd rather terrify your students into emotional stability."
"That's one way to describe teaching."
A laugh slipped out before Danny could stop it, small, almost disbelieving, but real. The sound hung between them, cutting through the steady hum of machines.
When it faded, the silence that followed didn't feel so heavy anymore.
And after a while, the man spoke again, "So kid? Does this mean you'll finally stop avoiding me?"
"What?" Danny quietly squawked at the sudden, unexpected question.
Aizawa's tone didn't change, but there was the faintest hint of amusement buried under the roughness. "You really think I haven't noticed you only coming out of your room when I'm not home?"
Danny's mouth opened, then closed. "...Thats not completely true."
"Really?"
"Hey," Danny said quickly, straightening a little. "It's not my fault you always get home at, like, midnight. Some of us have functioning sleep schedules."
Aizawa hummed, unimpressed. "You?"
Danny frowned. "Okay, fair. But still. You make it sound like I'm avoiding you or something."
"That's because you are."
Danny froze, then sighed, realizing arguing was pointless. "Fine," he muttered. "I'll stop… avoiding you. But only if you stop being such a jerk at school."
The silence that followed stretched just long enough for Danny to start second-guessing his boldness, until he heard the faintest huff, the kind that might've been a laugh.
"It's like you said," Aizawa murmured, the edges of his voice warm with humor. "It's my teaching style."
Danny rolled his eyes, but the smile tugging at his mouth gave him away. "Your 'teaching style' involves way too much of singling me out."
"You're right."
Danny brows wrinkled, caught off guard by the lack of sarcasm.
"So how about this," Aizawa continued, "I'll try to ease up on you a little. And when you're ready…" his tone softened, just barely, "you can come to me and tell me more about yourself."
He wanted to question what he meant but deep down he already knew.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Then Danny exhaled, slow and steady, "Yeah," he murmured, a faint, tired smile flickering across his face. "...Alright."
Aizawa's head turned slightly on the pillow, the faintest ghost of approval in the motion. "Good. Now get some rest, kid. That's an order."
Danny huffed a soft laugh, half a sigh. "Yes, sir."
He leaned back in the chair, the tension finally bleeding from his shoulders. Outside, the rain kept falling, steady and calm and for the first time in a long time, so did he.