Chapter Text
"What are we going to do about the kid? Sure, he's a healer, but kids have... needs," Dabi asks.
They all knew that; Izuku knew that. He was a child, and he needed more of... everything!
"Um... I'm quiet," Izuku points at himself. "Quiet, uh—no noise, no... needs," he motions to seal his lips.
Yeah, he needs a lot of things. A bath being one of them.
A warm hug and good food being most of it.
"Look at that, he can't even speak properly... those people messed him up!" Twice scratched the back of his mask.
"Exactly, that's why we need to keep him. He knows what those heroes do; he can have revenge, and we can have fast healing right at our fingertips," Shigaraki said, handing Izuku to the Nomu with so much ease.
The boy couldn't process revenge; he hated heroes, but in a weird, twisted way, he still liked them. The memory of cards and posters on the wall flashed every time he tried to say he hated one.
Strange, he was at the hand of the worst people in Japan, the ones who were supposed to save him.
The same people turned a blind eye when he showed up in shackles, underfed, and took him from his normal life, harming others in the process. Maybe he hadn't hated them because he hadn't had a chance to; he was more focused on not dying of hunger by rationing.
He's just a kid, right?
"Do you hate heroes, kid? After what they've done to you?" Toga asked, putting the knife near his face, but Izuku had seen worse.
He does. He hates heroes. Not even All Might came to rescue him! But...
"Not Kacchan," Izuku said, and she removed the knife. "Kacchan? Is that your friend or something?"
Izuku tilted his head.
/Have a chance to be a kid/, he remembered the pro hero saying.
"Yes!" He smiled, even if some teeth were missing or rotten. His smile was genuine and cute.
The Nomu holding him chirped and crooned back like a bird. Even if its eyes were staring into nothing, its actions seemed to have changed to match Izuku’s.
"First time I've seen them do that," Dabi muttered, shrugging. "We have to go now; the heroes are bound to join us," Twice says.
They didn't need to be told twice as a portal appeared.
Izuku took a big breath as they went in. It was going to be a new adventure.
To hate heroes! And have revenge.
Not Kacchan, though. Kacchan’s a good hero–
They were the last to go through. The portal was small, after all.
Click.
Izuku turned back to see a cop aiming at them. Before he could react, the man shot the Nomu's leg.
It let out a screech that made Izuku cover his ears, but before the other could shoot again, they went through, flopping to the ground (making sure it didn't hurt the kid) and panting as he bled.
The portal quickly closed.
"Shit!" Dabi hissed, already going to get the first aid kit. "Why don't we use the kid?" Toga asked. "So he can pass out and die on us? Don't you see his state?" Shigaraki answered back.
As everyone seemed to pace, trying to find ways to stop the bleeding, Izuku crawled to it.
"I'll make the pain go away... pain, pain, go away," Izuku mumbled before taking a big breath.
The cooling sensation on his hands came back as he healed the leg. Luckily, there was no bullet inside.
The Nomu stared at his leg, having no more trail of pain left, raised his hand. Izuku flinched, only for it to scratch his hair.
Izuku smiled again, weakly this time, before he flopped to the ground, hearing yelling that sounded so far away
It was fine; he was happy. The heroes would've used him, no doubt about it. Yet, the villains were willing to use a first aid kit (except Toga) because they knew the poor state he was in.
“...doctor…bath..medicine,” he heard words come and go.
“..vaccine..needle.”
That made Izuku force an eye open and visibly whine.
“No..needle.”
That made Tomura laugh, finding it amusing. Maybe, in a way, he was happy that Izuku still had his child-like characteristics, something the commission couldn't take away. He was still angry that one reason Izuku hated needles was because of the abuse and experimentation.
He decided to take part in it, not yelling or screaming, no hits or bruises. He will take part in the childishness of Izuku; he deserves it.
“Too bad, kid,” he says. Izuku’s eyes widened, expecting to be harshly dropped to the floor for saying no. He was treated like a child, and a small smile appeared. That's when the others remembered to also book an appointment at a backstreet dentist they could trust not to mess things up.
“Be brave, ya’?” Twice asked, ruffling Izuku's hair. “It won't be now anyway; he lives far. Prepare yourself at least,” Dabi sighs, opening the door of the fridge to fetch some milk.
“I can make light food even underfed kids can eat without their stomach acting up,” Kurogiri says, golden eyes staring at the poor child, underfed, in rags, skin filled with bruises and needle shots, probably the only thing they tried to do to keep him alive. He would never judge him for being scared of them.
Shigaraki places him on a tall chair, and he sits on another one, a perfect height to reach the high counter. “Milk and cereal? Oh! Chocolate!”
Izuku’s eye perked up…wait..why couldn't he open his other eye? “Hmm.” The child raised his eyelid, and the others noticed it.
“Maybe the more he uses his quirk, the fewer body functions he has?” Toga asks.
“The shitheads would've probably forced him until he stopped breathing,” Dabi shrugs. “Heroes indeed,” Shigaraki shrugs, staring as Izuku fidgeted with his bruised hands, fingernails growing out uneven and raspy.
He could relate to that. Weirdly, he could relate to the poor child more than he admitted.
You'd think with a quirk like his, he would've been treated like royalty. No. He was deemed trash by them, and so he suffered the consequences for it, just like everyone here.
Kurogiri places a small plate with a few cut-up strawberries in front of Izuku. He cleaned up Izuku's hand with a simple wash before letting him continue. The boy ignored the fork and placed a handful in his mouth. Everyone smiled (some showing more than others) when he squealed and stimmed with his.
He placed his very small free hand on Shigaraki's palm and tapped it as he ate, humming and smiling, even with his closed eyelid that looked as if he was punched.
The door rang four codes all in their respective timing, making it clear it was the doctor, Daruma Ujiko.
“I've come in a hurry,” the older man says, pushing his glasses back as he hugged his large bag with everything he needed. “It's a child; we rescued him from the commission,” the blue fire villain spoke.
“Yeah! He's so skinny and has so many bruises; he was probably stabbed a lot with medicine too!” Toga nodded.
“Injections,” Kurogiri corrected.
“Oh? A child, huh. I'm good at dealing with them. It's better if we check the blood samples if he has anything in his system. Say, where is this child?”
That's when Shigaraki noticed the weight in his hand disappeared, and he looked down to find him gone.
“...What?”
TBC