Chapter Text
I did everything I could. My everything wasn’t good enough. I should have kept going. I should have acted more quickly, instead of stuttering over every decision. Maybe if I hadn’t doubted myself we could have made it in time.
*** *** ***
“What happened?” The lights hurt my eyes so I kept them closed. “Where is he?”
“You’re safe now, just lie still.” The voice was calm but stern. I tried to shake my head - he didn’t understand - but it felt full of lead. The movement shot pain between my temples and down my neck. I groaned, gritting my teeth against a wave of vertigo.
“But…” My throat was fighting back against my voice, dragging, scraping.
“Calm down,” the voice said again. “It’s over now.”
*** *** ***
I woke up in a hospital room. Bright white. Chemical clean. My room was empty, quiet. I could hear voices coming from the hallway, softer than the steady hum of the electronics in the various monitors around me. I looked down at my body - IV in the back of a bandaged hand - the rest was covered in a stiff blanket. I didn’t have the energy to check if everything was still intact beneath it.
My eyes were heavy. They must have me on something. To make me this slow. To make the thoughts fill in the blanks so lazily. Memories that should’ve sent me into a panic. My failure.
I still don’t know where you are. Probably gone.
The spot behind the crease in my eyelids ached so I let them fall - or one of them. I thought it was both but one I couldn’t open at all.
The next time I opened my eyes - eye -, it was dark. The muscles in my back were itching to move but when I shifted, I gasped and clenched my jaw against the pain. I could feel it then. Bandages wrapped tightly around my torso. A burning pain and an all over ache.
Hopeless.
Worthless.
I failed.
A shadow of foreboding started in the back of my mind. It grew slowly. Stretching to all my shallow corners.
You’re gone. I doubted myself for too long. You put faith in the wrong person - no - I just should’ve listened to you sooner. Believed in myself the way you told me to. Then maybe.
But I wasn’t strong enough to do that. I ruined everything…
Time passed slowly. Or quickly. I couldn’t tell. All I had to go off of was the growing ache inside me and the gnawing uncertainty of my thoughts. He couldn’t be gone. But logically he would be. But he defies most logic, so there’s really no saying.
Better to not get my hopes up.
Best to expect the worst.
I will keep my composure when I am debriefed.
I will know it’s my fault, as most others will too, but we won’t call attention to it.
My bones hurt. Every breath sharp in my lungs. The sky outside my window looked lighter than before. But it was probably my imagination. My head hurt. Everything hurt but my head was demanding the most attention. I could feel the swelling pushing against the bandages. Hot. Throbbing. Both sharp and dull.
How long have I been here?
Where are you?
*** *** ***
They told me you were alive. But you weren’t the same. They told me I wasn’t allowed to see you yet. That it would be best to wait. You’d had a long day and you know I’m fine. Yes, it would be best to wait.
When I was alone, I cried. It was strange to cry while one eye was bandaged shut. Strange and painful. My skin twisted beneath the wrap, my eye stung, it was hot, and made my persistent headache worse. The roof of my mouth hurt, my throat tight from trying to hold it in.
I wiped the back of my hand across my good eye and the edge of the sheet across my nose.
They’d taken the IV out and unhooked all the monitors. I’d probably go home in a couple days. I needed a few more healing sessions to make sure my vision returned to normal. My entire body still hurt. Not as bad as before but I still felt every movement.
That evening, I stared out my window and watched the sky fade. The sun was setting on the other side of the building so I couldn’t watch the colors change. It just went dark.
I hadn’t bothered turning my room lights on, when the hallway switched to the dimmer night shift lighting, my room was dark. People had stopped walking back and forth hours before. It was quiet for a longtime. I assumed only a small night staff remained.
I pushed myself up and turned to let my feet hang off the side of the bed. My head spun and felt achy and heavy on my neck. Standing was almost enough to sit me back down. But after the initial darkening of my vision and blood rushing in my ears I felt steady. Tired and stiff, but not pathetic enough that I wouldn’t be able to walk.
Pathetic. I failed. I have to tell him.
I opened my door and stepped into the hallway. It was long and empty. I took a steadying breath and decided to go left.
The room next to mine had a file hanging on the door so I picked it up to check the name, Kirishima. He was worse off than me from what I’d heard.
So I walked to the next door. I didn’t recognize the name, so I checked the next. And the next.
A few of the names were familiar, most I didn’t know. A lot of rooms were empty.
After making two more turns I started thinking about giving up. Honestly, I’d started thinking about giving up before I even left my room. That side’s argument was growing stronger. I was going to end up lost in the hospital in the middle of the night. Humiliating. The thought of it made my stomach squirm.
I’ll check the rest of this hallway. Then I’ll turn back.
First door - no. What am I even doing anyway?
Second door - empty. They said I could see him tomorrow.
Third door - no. It’s dramatic and pathetic to go talk to him this late.
Fourth door - no. Unnecessary.
Fifth door - no. I’ll probably just annoy him, showing up like this.
Sixth door - no. Well I’m not going to find his room anyway. This place is huge.
Seventh door - empty. It’s for the best. He’s probably asleep.
Eight door - Mirio Togata. Great…
I paused, staring at the name on the medical chart. Seriously, what am I doing? I came out here in the middle of the dark. Just to apologize. On the chance that we won’t be alone tomorrow and I’ll puss out.
Thinking about being in a room full of people and trying to apologize for being a failure made anxiety crawl across my skin. I leaned my forehead against the door. The pressure hurt my head but the coolness of the metal felt good, and it made me feel less exposed. I took a deep breath and held it, ignoring the sharp pain in my rib. Intent on knocking, I lifted my hand but then let it fall with my exhale. I squeezed my eye shut and bit my lip.
Just do it.
My shaking hand formed a fist and with a rush of adrenaline, I knocked twice and grabbed the door handle. I was instantly screaming at myself for going through with it. How could I be so stupid? What was I thinking? This isn’t something people just do! It’s the middle of the night, I’m such a creep.
I let go of the door handle. I couldn’t do it. I’ll just go back to my room. I’ll see him tomorrow and. This didn’t happen. I took a deep breath to steady my nerves before turning to head back.
But there was a click, my stomach dropped, and the door opened.
“Tamaki?”
I felt myself blushing immediately. “Ah, I’m sorry. I’m just going - didn’t mean -” I was stammering and took a step back, looking towards the direction I’d come from.
“Wait, Tamaki.” Mirio pulled the door open further. One of his legs was wrapped and he wasn’t putting any weight on it. “Come on.” He nodded his head, inviting me inside. “I couldn’t sleep either.”
“Wha- Oh… yeah.” I walked past him, head down. He closed the door and started hopping back towards his bed. I offered him a hand and he shrugged it away.
“It’s nothin’. Just sore cause I was up too much today.” He sat down at the foot of his bed, leaving enough space for me so I sat beside him.
“Mirio.” It was a whisper. I didn’t mean it to be, my voice just never cooperates. He turned his attention to me but I couldn’t continue. Being in his hospital room was overwhelming. I was perched on the edge of the bed like my body was prepared to run.
We’d sat beside each other in our rooms countless times before, but it was always more comfortably, never broken.
I wanted to leave. He knew it was my fault. I could feel it.
Disappointment.
Pathetic.
Failure.
I felt a light pressure on the bandages on my face. I glanced up and saw Mirio, his face blank, staring at the injured side of my head. He was tracing the lines of the wrap with his fingers, soft and careful.
“You’ll heal completely, right?” His hand was inching closer towards my hair.
“It should.” I swallowed. He brushed my hair to the side, sending a rush down my spine, and traced the wrap back to my ear before letting his hand fall.
“Good!” He smiled. “You can keep doing your best. I heard about what you did,” he nudged my arm with his elbow, “three villains at once, all by yourself.” His voice was upbeat as always, but it held something else too. Something that twisted in my chest till it hurt.
“Mirio.” I managed it louder this time and he stopped talking. I cleared my throat and swallowed. When did my mouth get so dry? “I. I’m sorry.”
“Sorry? Don’t be sorry, it’s-”
“It’s my fault.” He stared at me, his mouth still slightly open mid-sentence. “I wasn’t fast enough - I wasn’t - strong enough.”
“Of course you were!” He shifted so his body was turned to me. One leg up on the bed, the injured one still hanging off the side. His knee was pressing against my thigh - the hospital beds were short. “You were great.”
“I couldn’t get to you.”
“Tamaki, without you, no one would have.” He was smiling again. With an intensity I was familiar with. He was trying to build me up. It wasn’t working. I didn’t believe him, his words made my heart sink lower. I wanted to pull his blanket over my face and disappear - just will myself back to my own room.
Some of what I was feeling must’ve shown on my face because Mirio changed the subject. “But let’s, talk about something else. This is why neither of us could sleep, right? Maybe we can distract ourselves.” He looked like he was having trouble keeping the smile on his face, and it disappeared sooner than it usually does. Because of me.
I felt the corners of my mouth twitch downward. My hands were wringing together in my lap. I shouldn’t have come here. Maybe I’ll leave. I inhaled, preparing to tell Mirio that I was going to head back but he spoke first.
“Look,” he said, his voice completely even, not giving away any emotion. And I did. His eyebrows were pushed together, eyes fixed on his hands - palms pressed flat against the bed in front of him. At first I was unsure what to make of it, but I understood just as he started to speak again. “I keep trying… it’s really gone.”
I squeezed my hands into fists to try and stop them from shaking. My heart beat louder, harder against my chest and my throat. I was overwhelmed by helplessness. A stark reminder of how pathetic I was. I should be where he is. He didn’t deserve this.
Mirio kept his hands on the bed. The blanket creasing around them like cracks in glass. He was digging his fingertips in, like maybe this would be the time he made it through. My stomach was in knots, tying and untying and retying itself over and over. My legs started to shake. I couldn’t take it. Anxiety driven blood built up to a rush in my ears.
“Stop.” I unclenched my fists and put my hands over his. “Stop.” I picked them up and squeezed his hands as tight as I could. “Please.” I had shifted and we were facing each other, hands clasped between us. Mirio had tears forming in his eyes. I’d never seen him look so defeated. It made my chest tight.
Before I could react, our hands were apart and Mirio leaned forward, wrapping his arms around me, his face buried in my shoulder, and I found myself holding him up.
I wasn’t used to it, having to be strong for him. But I tried. I put my arms around him as his body was racked with sobs. It made my pain seem petty. He’d lost so much more. He lost everything. His mentor. His quirk. And, in his eyes, his very identity.
And I could barely handle the pain of my empathy... I’m too weak.
So it was the least I could do - sit with him while he cried through my hospital gown. At first I held him tightly, as if I could keep him together but he was so much bigger than me it felt like I couldn’t gather enough of him up at once. Then, I rubbed up and down his back. Over the highs and lows of his muscles, down the dip of his spine to the waistband of his pants and all the way back up to the hairline at the top of his neck. Slowly. Deliberately. Trying to calm my breathing as much as I was his.
Up. Down. Hair. Pants.
He was warm and smelled familiar in a nostalgic way that made me want to stay with him. I wanted to sit there for years, breathing him in until the world around us moved enough to take away the pain of the past few days.
Eventually, his breathing relaxed. He sniffed thickly and took a stuttering breath.
“M’sorry.” He spoke into my shoulder and I squeezed him tightly before he pulled back. When he sat up, I looked away. I fidgeted with my fingers, squeezing my nails, trying to look distracted, unbothered. I felt like I was intruding. Part of me knew I wasn’t, but that was a small and very quiet corner of my mind.
“Don’t be sorry.” My voice was an involuntary whisper. I tapped my finger against the palm of the opposite hand. “I don’t mind.” That came out wrong. “You can be sad. I would be… I am.”
He grabbed my hand. His fingers laced through mine. Neither of us moved or said anything for what felt like an hour.
“Do you think you’ll sleep?” I asked. I could feel my head getting heavy, but didn’t want to leave Mirio alone with everything. Even though I really had no choice. He let go of my hand and shrugged while he stretched his arms over his head.
“I’ll be fine.” He attempted a smile but it didn’t erase the unease that had etched itself into his features. “You should get back.”
I nodded and stood up.
“Thanks for coming to see me, Tamaki.” He started to get up and I waved my hands at him to sit back down.
“Don’t, don’t, your leg. I’ll get the door myself.” I suddenly felt self conscious and wanted to leave.
“Okay, okay. Have a good night.” I looked at him and attempted a smile but my facial muscles didn’t seem to want to let go of how awkward I was feeling and it can’t have turned out well. It caused a heat of embarrassment to crawl up my neck so I bailed. I turned and left without saying goodbye, and rushed back to my room with my head down.