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Amajiki stared at the wall....then his hands...then stared at the floor...then the wall again. Anywhere and everywhere...but the door.
It was the door to Hadou's room. They were waiting for her. Waiting for her to come out, or for them to be called in...whichever came first.
Mirio paced around the hallway, then stopped to lean against the wall, then started aggressively tapping his foot, then immediately went back to pacing again. Tamaki averted his eyes, feeling as if he were intruding by watching his friend like this. Mirio was always so bright, so sure of himself, that seeing him like this felt..wrong. It made Tamaki even more nervous, so nervous and stressed and tired and scared that he wanted nothing more than to swap Quirks with Mirio and sink through the floor. Since that was out of the question, he continued like he was, with the crown of his head pressed against the wall, his eyes staring blankly ahead of him, seeing nothing.
He was back in the city, whichever it was, he couldn't remember the name. All of the cities he had ever been to....no...all the cities in the world itself, seemed to have merged together into one continuous battlefield where one was never truly safe, only hiding. That's all they were doing. Hiding. Waiting. Sitting still as the villains closed in on them from every side, the people they had sworn to protect turning against them as they one by one failed to save them. A monster, that hideous, hideous, monster rose up from the mountain of corpses built by him and his minions and his enemies the heroes, his mouth cracked and gaping in a horrid open-mouthed smile as his icy hair whipped around his face and an unspeakable darkness flowed through him, a darkness that seemed to control him, consume him, more than he did it.
As if the darkness wasn't a power or a Quirk but...something more. A being. A force.
Controlled by the puppet strings of Fate and Fear, he stopped in his tracks, faltering for only a moment, but only a moment was all that Shigaraki Tomura needed. Just a flick of his finger, and Tamaki saw the world around him crumble to dust. Cities and buildings, reduced to rubble in seconds, mothers and children wailing as they were encased in a concrete tomb. Neji-no-Hadou, spiraled towards the enemy, her face streaked with blood, as a rope of fire flew at her, enveloping her within the blink of an eye. Tamaki screamed as loud as he could, louder than ever before, but no sound was heard, no sound was made, all sound and light and color sucked out of the world as a fallen fairy plummeted towards it-
"Tamaki, Tamaki!"
Someone was urgently shaking his shoulder. He looked up to see Mirio crouched down next to him, his deep blue marble-like eyes full of fear. Tamaki took a moment to reassess where he was.
He was sitting in the hospital hallway, crumpled against the wall with a wet face and a trembling lip. He reached to push himself up off the ground, only for his legs to shake violently. Mirio gently pulled him back down.
"Woah, woah, woah, there," he sung, thinly masking the pain in his voice. "Take it easy. It's okay, okay? You're still here, you're safe, it's okay."
Tamaki hesitated, then gave him a weak nod, knitting his fingers together. "How..." he gulped. "How long was I...out?"
"A couple of minutes." Mirio gave him an apologetic smile. "But maybe longer...I was so wrapped up in my own thoughts that I didn't see you struggling until I heard you crying."
That's right. Mirio's going through just as much pain as I am. He's certainly handling it better than me though. I shouldn't let myself get so worked up that he has to take care of me.
"Ah-Ah-Ah!" Mirio's bright voice chirped. "I know that look! You're blaming yourself." Mirio laid a hand on his shoulder, a comforting sparkle in his eyes. "Don't get down on yourself, Suneater. It's not your fault. We can't control or change what's happened. What we can control is whether or not we're going to let it control the rest of our lives. If we spend all out time worrying, we'll never go out and change things, or learn from our mistakes." He paused a moment, then an idea sparked inside of him, Tamaki could tell. "What would Nejire say?" Mirio prodded, a mischievous smile tugging on the corners of his mouth.
Tamaki flushed a little, tugging at his bangs a little in an effort to hide his face. "She would...she would probably say s-something about how I was being a chickenheart or something..." he murmured.
Mirio pinched him. Hard.
"Ow-ww-ow!" He rubbed his new wound gingerly. "What was that for?" he mumbled, his gaze dragging across the floor.
"Tamaki." His eyes shot up to meet Mirio, who looked very serious. "I don't think you realize this, but when you talk like that about yourself, it really hurts you. It keeps you from working at your fullest, and from believing that you can. Not only that, it hurts me and Nejire. We don't like seeing our best friend talking bad about himself, okay? I've already told you how much I believe in you, and how much I know you can do. And I know that Nejire feels the same way. You may not believe me, but she really cares about you, y'know?"
Tamaki blinked. "Hadou...cares about me?"
Mirio made a face and shook his head. He pitched up his voice in imitation of their friend. "'Mirio, is Amajiki coming today?' 'I'm really worried about Amajiki. He's been so negative about himself, and I don't know how to cheer him up!' 'Mirio, you always know just what to say to make Amajiki feel better. Do you think you could talk to him for me?'" He paused, lifting a finger to preemptively silence Tamaki. "And perhaps the most incriminating evidence of all," he said with a flourish. "'Mirio, does Amajiki not like me?'"
"Wh-what?" Tamaki sputtered. "'Not like her?' I-I..."
"I know," Mirio said with a bemused sigh, turning himself to sit against the wall beside him. "But the thing is, you rarely vocalize how you're feeling. I've known you longer than she has, so I'm used to it, but Nejire's actually really sensitive to it. Her teasing you...it's kind of like her way of trying to spur you to be more confident, and to get you to reciprocate when she interacts with you. Since you've given her the biggest reaction when she teases you, it's really the only way she knows how to get you to talk to her."
Tamaki picked at the floor. It was very interesting at the moment. "She...told you all of this?" But he already knew the answer. Looking back on it, it actually kind of made sense. When they had first met, Hadou had been so bright and friendly and peppy that he quickly became overwhelmed. Factor in how pretty and talented she was, and Tamaki couldn't help but become a stumbling, stuttering mess. Even more so than he usually was, he meant. It took a lot of effort to try and not worry about her too much, so much so that he decided it was best to not talk to her at all, unless it was really necessary. This was even more difficult considering how good of friends she was with Mirio, and even more so when she had begun teasing him for being so shy. He couldn't really say anything back; she was right, after all. But he never considered why she would tease him so much. He always just assumed it was because she didn't like him.
It wasn't that he didn't like her, it's just that she was so playful and carefree and beautiful, that it didn't make sense for her to actually care about him or what he thought of her, that she was just engaging him out of spite or obligation, so he kept her at arm's length. If he reciprocated, then he would really become an obligation, someone she now had to talk to out of fear of hurting his feelings since he would be talking back. He involuntarily winced at the thought of Mirio pinching his arm again for having such thoughts. But weren't they true...?
"Amajiki? Toogata?" the pinched voice of a nurse called from down the hall, snapping him out of his reverie.
The two boys shot up and rushed towards her. Her mouth was an unreadable tight line.
"How is she?" Mirio hurriedly asked.
"Better." The nurse beckoned them inside. "You may come in to see her now."
"Thank you," Mirio nodded, slipping through the door. Tamaki mumbled a similar phrase and followed him inside.
"Mirio! Amajiki!"
She was laying in a hospital bed, bruised and bandaged and wearing an odd sort of hairnet but otherwise looking unharmed. She attempted to sit up straight, only for the nurse to hurry over and push her down again. Hadou gave a huff and pouted slightly, an absolutely adorable gesture in Tamaki's book. She stretched her arms out like a small child for a hug, to which Mirio gently obliged, bending down to meet her. Tamaki awkwardly shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Hadou opened her mouth like she was about to say something, then stopped herself, neatly folding her hands in her lap and looking pensive. But the cloud over the sun passed, and she was back to smiling brightly again.
"How are you guys?" she chirped. "I've been worried about you!"
"I'm okay," Mirio said, rubbing the back of his neck. Tamaki felt his eyes on him. "Tamaki?"
"I'm...okay," he muttered.
"Okay?" Hadou knit her brow. "No major injuries or anything?"
"A couple of scratches..." Mirio nodded in affirmation of this statement.
"Oh, thank goodness." She pressed a hand to her heart. Her eyes drooped in sadness. "How...how have the first-years been?"
Mirio and Tamaki exchanged glances.
"What...what?" Hadou asked, looking frantic.
They said nothing.
"What happened?" she asked again, tugging on Mirio's sleeve. "Who's hurt? Who's missing? Who's..." She didn't finish that sentence.
"No one," Mirio said firmly. Yet. "But...Todoroki and Bakugou are in pretty bad shape. They're awake, however."
"Then...who...isn't awake?" Hadou asked, her voice trembling.
"Midoriya..." Tamaki said in little more than a whisper.
Hadou's hands flew to her mouth. "Is...is he?..."
"We don't know yet."
Hadou chewed her lip, tears brimming in her eyes. Mirio reached out and grasped her shoulder, looking her in the eye.
"Hey..." he said in a quiet voice. "It's going to be alright. Midoriya's a fighter, a real trooper. He'll be okay."
"We'll be alright," he said, after a pause.
Hadou leaned back, giving a little halfhearted nod as she wiped her eyes. "Y-you're right. He'll be okay. We'll be okay."
I wish that were true, Tamaki thought helplessly.
Mirio cleared his throat awkwardly. "So, uh...what's the hairnet for?"
Hadou suddenly turned away from them, looking very self-conscious, which was a very un-Hadou-ish thing to do.
"Hadou...?" Tamaki asked, uncertain.
She turned back to them, her eyes now overflowing. In one swift movement, she tore off the cap and cast it aside.
Tamaki's eyes widened.
Her long, flowing hair, hair so long she could comfortably sit on it, periwinkle blue and remarkably soft, had been reduced to a charred chop of hair, the longest of the ragged wisps just tickling her chin.
Hadou's eyes anxiously searched their faces for a reaction. Tamaki willed himself to look as unaffected as possible. But it was hard to so when she looked so-
Hadou's face crumpled, and she buried her face in her pillow with a sob.
"Nejire!" Mirio cried, shaking her a little. "Nejire!"
Hadou only wailed louder. His heart positively cracked at the sound. He willed himself to speak.
"...H-Hadou..." he pleaded. "It...it doesn't look bad..."
The cries subdued themselves into spastic hiccups.
"Are..hic..y-you-hic-sure?"
As Mirio worked to console their friend, Tamaki stayed silent. Only three words were on his mind.
Fairy.
Safe.
Pure.
Fairy.
Safe.
Pure.
She was all of those things.
And she always would be.
Another word swam to the surface of his mind.
"Beautiful."
He said it more to himself than anything, as a way to relieve the pressure building inside his chest at the realization that she was indeed, beautiful. He'd always known as much, but actually saying it made it seem more real. It made her seem more real.
This was real.
She was alright.
They were alright.
"Tamaki..." Hadou whispered.
He glanced up at her, shocked to hear her use his given name. She was once again in tears. Mirio stood next to her, the brightest smile he'd ever seen on his face.
"Do...do you really think I'm beautiful, Tamaki?" she whispered, more tears leaking out of her eyes.
He dropped his gaze. Had he made her sad? Oh, please, gosh no, please don't be sad because of me...
"Tamaki?"
He gulped.
Mustering up his courage, he raised his head to look her in the eye. It took a great deal of effort not to melt on the spot when he saw the tender look she was giving him.
"You've always been beautiful, Nejire," he said softly. "Always."
She smiled, her puffy eyes crinkling with happiness. She opened her hands out to him for a hug. He bent down to meet her. She wrapped her arms around her neck; he held her gently by the waist.
"Thank you, Tamaki..." she whispered.
"Thank you."