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He feels numb. Disconnect and seemingly lost in a haze.
He gazes through half-lidded eyes, moving his head slowly and sluggishly to understand what is happening. But in his clogged mind, he barely registers the presence of a man standing a few feet away, fixated on something atop a hard surface that Izuku assumes is a table. The dim light casts eerie shadows, adding to his disorientation and sense of unease.
“Interesting,” The man turns to face Izuku, the teenager tries to move but his efforts prove futile. His limbs feel as if they are melting into the reclining chair, almost fusing with the surface beneath him. He’s strapped down, a fact his jumbled mind manages to grasp, but with how disconnected his limbs feel, it almost seems counterinitiative to keep him restrained like this.
Soon, in the fuzziness of his vision, he notices a syringe in the man’s hand. He fills it with what looks to be a blue substance. He carefully removes the air bubbles with a flick, the sound of glass echoing through the sterile room. He approaches him. Panic rises inside Izuku. He attempts to speak, but all that comes out are a series of incoherent whimpers and grunts. He wants to get away, gain distance from the ever-approaching needle. But he can’t, the sharp metal plunges into his skin, the contents inside disappearing and going inside his body.
“I will be back my little experiment,” Izuku hears the man as the needle is removed. He hears footsteps and then locks locking; the man has left.
Alone in this hospital-like room, Izuku tries to pull forth One for All but nothing, not even a spec of his power comes forward. Again, he looks around, his vision blurring dangerously. He has no memory of how he ended up here, but an ominous feeling tells him that something sinister is at play. The stark white walls and harsh fluorescent lights create an unsettling atmosphere, making it clear that Izuku is at the epicenter of a madman’s scheme.
Unconsciousness grips his mind, tantalizing him to sleep. The drugs pull him deeper, caressing his awareness and whispering to him to give in. But he can’t, he won’t. He needs to remain awake so he can find a way out of this situation he landed himself in. If he passes out, there is no knowing what the guy will do or worse…where he will take him.
He will remain afloat, he will not sink in. He will not give in.
“S—stay ‘float…” Izuku whispers to himself, his words slurring exponentially.
When his eyes want to flutter shut, he opens them back up, repeating the same motion over and over again.
Stay afloat.
Don’t give in.
Again, he tries to move but his muscles—his limbs they feel non-existent. They might as well not be there. Slowly and weakly, he clutches and extends his fingers in delicate, almost melodic movements, feeling the numbness that envelops them. The growing haze threatens to consume him, but he can’t let it spread. He will resist the encroaching fog.
He will stay afloat.
He needs to.
He doesn’t know how long he remains in this state, but soon, to his relief, he can feel his mind clearing and the smallest embers of his quirk coming back. Just as hope starts to bloom, the man returns. With his sense sharpening, Izuku acts. He moves to sit, ready to pounce on his kidnapper, not caring for the cuffs wrapped around his wrist and ankles attempting to push him back. The guy, however, notices his struggle. He walks over to the struggling teenager and gently but firmly pushes him back down, his head and back sinking into the padded material of the dentist-like chair.
“Nah ah ah, we can’t have that can we?”
Izuku needs to fight, especially now when he doesn’t feel as sluggish and restrictive as before.
“No…let—me—go.” Izuku orders, trying to push himself forward, begging that a miracle will happen. That maybe the familiar sparks of One for All will emerge, giving him a chance to escape this hell.
“Shush,” The man pulls something from his pocket, Izuku’s eyes widen in fear, it’s a syringe with the same blue substance.
“No…” Izuku fights. He fights and fights, “No…please…”
Don’t give in.
Fight.
Stay afloat.
But the cuffs, his disorientation, the blinding lights, and the looming man…he can’t do anything. The guy approaches him and plunges the needle into his arm. Soon, his fighting stops as the drugs overwhelm his senses.
Stay afloat.
“That’s better,” He hears the man. His voice sounds muffled in Izuku's ears as if he were hearing him from underwater. “Let’s begin then.”
Everything happens in a blur. He can feel cuts, but he can’t do anything. More things poke on him, but he does not react. He just stares ahead, blinking blearily, his half-lidded and clouded eyes enveloped in a drugged haze.
“ ‘floa…” An inaudible whisper escapes Izuku’s mouth, his tongue dead weight in his mouth.
Time passes: he doesn’t know how much. The guy leaves and then comes back and with him comes more pokes.
Every time Izuku tries to resist, but the periods of his next dose become less and less spread out, not allowing Izuku time to come back to his senses or revert back to his clear head. Every time he feels more clouded and clouded, his thoughts numbed and subdued by the substances injected into his system.
Stay afloat.
He repeats.
Stay afloat.
He continuously tells himself.
He won’t pass out.
He won’t give in.
He will STAY afloat.
But how long can he keep this up? Every fiber of his being aches for sleep; his body is essentially forcing him into it. He hasn’t slept in who knows how long…but he doesn’t want to. He can’t. However, the pull is so strong. His eyelids grow heavier with each passing moment. He fights against the relentless tide of fatigue threatening to drown him, but no matter how hard he tries, he can feel the fight ending towards his loss.
“Stay…a—float.” He reminds himself, “Pl—ease.”
He can’t let this guy win. If he does…he can’t phantom what will happen next.
“I c—can’t,” But he is so tired, “I w—won’t,” He can’t keep fighting.
“I—”
Suddenly, he hears a loud bang. The noise rattling the room and straining his sensitive ears.
“What—”
More bangs and more booms, each one louder and closer than the last. Screams and shouts follow, a cacophony of panic and chaos. Izuku wants desperately to cover his ears, to shut out the overwhelming noise, but he can't.
Suddenly, a sharp crack is followed by a thunderous crash that reverberates through the room as the door to his confinement is reduced to rumble.
“Shit…he is over here!” Someone screams.
That voice. He recognizes it.
The owner of the voice quickly approaches him, his face initially a blurry silhouette. Izuku squints, straining to focus on the features of his new visitor.
“Goddammit, Deku.”
Then it clicks, it’s Kacchan.
“Ka—cchan?” Izuku whispers, his unseeing eyes gazing at the young hero.
“Bakugo! Did you—oh god—”
“Get your ass over here and destroy these dam restraints!” Katsuki shouts.
Then somebody else approaches, he knows him too. It’s Kirishima.
“Of course!” Before he knows it, the metal cuffs are off.
“Tell Mr. Aizawa we got him,” Katsuki orders.
“Yup!” Eijiro runs out and leaves Katsuki to handle Izuku.
“K-Kacchan,” Izuku can see him, he is here. But is he here? What if this is a hallucination created by the cocktail of drugs he has been receiving, “No…’float…must stay ‘float.”
Katsuki simply looks at him, his fear evident, “It’s okay, nerd,” He guides him into sitting before grabbing him into a cradle, “I’ve got you.”
“No…I can’t give up…I can’t give in,” Izuku utters, tears beginning to form, “I must—stay—afloat.”
“Izuku…” He gazes at the green-haired teenager as he makes his way out of the soulless place, “It’s okay. You're saved. You can relax now. You fought, now let us take care of this.”
Izuku stares back at him, his sluggish mind trying to comprehend his words.
“You can relax, okay, nerd,” Katsuki concluded.
He can relax.
This is real.
He is being saved.
“Okay…” Izuku simply says. Relieved, he closes his eyes.
He doesn’t have to keep swimming, he can relax.
“You stayed afloat long enough for us to get you…good job,” Katsuki explains.
A faint, weary smile tugs at the corners of Izuku's mouth, “Yeah…”
Soon, sleep envelops him. He lets himself fall into the depths of unconsciousness, knowing that he is safe. That he is out of ocean and no longer has to remain afloat; no longer has to fight to prevent himself from sinking into the abyss of the fearsome unknown.