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Chapter Text

Midoriya Izuku was tired. He knew he should get up, try to call for help but he didn’t have the strength. His body ached. Burns, bruises, and cuts littered his skin. The cold metal cuffs dug into his wrists, fingertips staticky from them being too tight. It’s a miracle he’s still alive. Vaguely he could feel his heart growing sluggish. Each beat extending ever so slightly. Maybe that was just in his head. A hope that his fathers rage would end one way or another. Rescue or death, he didn’t care either way, he just needed something to happen.

His mind was foggy, it grew worse as time passed. His exhaustion made it hard to focus to begin with but the pain, god the pain, made it worse. Time had flown by, between his father’s visits to him and his time unconscious, he no longer knew what day it was. His phone was left behind in his bag, most likely still by the entrance. Was he supposed to be back at UA now? Was he class worried? He didn’t want them to be, he’s proven he wasn’t worth it. 

This was all his fault. If only he had kept his mouth shut and did as Hisashi asked he wouldn’t be laying on his bedroom floor. He just had to go and pretend to be a hero. It wasn’t even heroic, his father wanted him to do some analysis but wouldn’t say why or who. He wouldn’t hand over that information so freely, not when it could get people hurt. Izuku would much rather bear the weight of his father’s rage than hurt anyone. 

It didn’t stop the guilt from eating at him, for letting Hisashi do this to him and barely putting up a fight. He should have fought back more. He should have done anything to go back to UA, but if he left, would his mom be safe? He didn’t know. It was hard to pull his memories together, to think about what else he could have done. The little moments slipped through his fingers. 

His last clear memory was that of his mother greeting him at the door. Taking his bag from him as she spoke of a surprise in the kitchen. He remembers seeing his father seated at the table. The way he smiled, leaning back in his chair. Hisashi was comfortable but Izuku could see the rage that simmered beneath. Could see how taut his muscles were. A snake poised to attack, just waiting for the perfect moment to strike. 

It came hours later, when Inko left for her shift at the hospital. When Izuku had denied him.

Izuku doesn’t remember much after that. He knows he screamed, begged for Hisashi to stop and just leave him alone. It was all pain after the silver cuffs were wrapped around his wrists. The inside lined with needles that scrapped against bone. No matter how hard he called for One for All, wanted to feel the power race through his bones, nothing happened. His quirk was gone and he was facing a monster. One that haunted him, chased him through his dreams and twisted them to nightmares. 

His mind was drifting, it was a vain attempt to separate himself from the pain. He flowed through memories from when he was younger. There was a time he remembers waking up in a hospital. Auntie held his mom as she cried. Back then Izuku didn’t know how he ended up there. He laid in a bed as relief and sorrow poured off his mom in waves. She had held him so close as he tried his hardest to stay awake. Just a little longer. He had felt weak…drifty, and just so tired. She whispered how much she loved him, offered endless amounts of apologies and promised, promised, Hizashi would never return. 

“He won't hurt you again baby. I’m sorry. Oh I’m so sorry.” 

The hospital room never got dark enough for him to fear the night. He felt safe in that room, with his mom and auntie by his side.
It all changed when his mom tucked him in that first night home. He could still smell the heavy scent of burning fabric and skin. Almost gagging at the lingering smell of torched wood and blood in the air. The dark, looming shadows from the corners of his room were the final straw. All these things combined brought forth the memories of his father, of what he’d done.
He would wake in the middle of the night screaming for the pain to stop. He may not have remembered when he first woke in the hospital, but slowly and painfully the memories returned. From then on he was plagued with nightmares, unable to escape the burning grip of Hisashi. 

Izuku laid on the floor of his room, his blood soaked the carpet. It will hurt when Hisashi visits again. When the man will pull him up, ripping his skin from the mess. Surely, it would tear open wounds, the burns and cuts. His entire right side was singed. He felt as though the fire still licked his skin. It was hot and painful. Each breath had the rough carpet scraping against his chest. It hurt.  

The cuffs hissed as he moved. A chill raced through his veins, trailing up his arms. His vision darkened around the edges. He knew whatever was being pumped into his system suppressed his quirk, but as his breaths slowed, he wondered what else it was. What was it doing to him? Distantly he could hear the floorboards creak as heavy steps climbed them. Izuku had memorized the sound of his father climbing up the stairs. 

A sharp squeak filled the room when the door was pushed open. Dull thud echoing as the doorknob hit the wall. He wanted to shirk back, to distance himself from the man. Do something to keep away, but his body wouldn’t move. He couldn’t force himself to do anything. Too weak from the drugs pumping through his veins to defend himself.

Hisashi knelt over him. His eyes wouldn’t focus enough to make out any details, all he could tell was the shape of his father. Warm hands firmly grabbed his own. Izuku gasped as Hisashi wrenched his arms up. His skin tore from the floor, dried blood flaking away from his ruined skin. It hurt.  

“You’re more of a problem than you're worth.” Hisashi sneered as two pods replaced the now empty ones in the cuffs. Poison once again being funnelled into his wrists as the cuffs hissed their release. 

Hisashi dropped his hands. The metal dug into his wrists as they landed harshly on the floor. Izuku’s chest ached with the additional dose. How long ago was the last one? Was it too soon? Thinking hurts, his mind was too much of a muddled mess. He felt his thoughts drift away as soon as they came. A heavy silence crept into his mind, it pushed down on brain. 

His lungs felt hollow. They struggled to work, only able to keep the bare minimum air. His heart this… thing that bounced between far too fast and too slow. Each breath hammered against his ribs, vibrations coursed along the bruised and broken bones. 

His eyes drifted shut. It’s not like he could see anyways. It had been far too long since he had seen anything clearly, beyond the blur of shapes and colors. His muscles twitched and jumped beneath his skin. He couldn’t stop it and couldn’t understand why it happened. It ached something fierce. He burned, nerves lit aflame from pain he couldn’t escape.

Noise erupted through the house, jolting Izuku awake. The cuffs hissed again as he moved, the sound buried beneath his own pained moans. His heartbeat was loud and arrhythmic in his ears. He had to calm down, moving only made the cuffs activate. It’s not like he could move if he really wanted to. His body felt as if it weighed a ton. Pulling his throbbing limbs deeper into the carpet and floor beneath. The carpet wasn’t sticky anymore but the dried blood pulled at his skin, made it feel tight. His wounds still burned. 

A shiver ran through him. He was so cold. Why was it so cold? It should be mid summer but it felt as though fall was creeping in. Stealing all the warmth and sunlight. 

The noise around him quieted until he could only hear one voice stand out.

“Find him!” It sounded so familiar, warm. He couldn’t pinpoint where he had heard it before. He tried to sift through memories, to pick just one that stood out. Anything that he could place. The harder he thought, the more his head pounded. A jackhammer beating against his skull. He was so tired of the pain. He just-

The door slammed open. He didn’t hear the footsteps on the stairs, was Hisashi back? It felt too soon. Or maybe it wasn’t, maybe he was just losing more time. How much more would he lose before it all stopped? How much longer did he have to wait? 

“Izuku!” The shout tethered him. The faint pop, pop, BANG! pulled him out of his head. His eyes slowly drifted to the doorway, it held blurry figures. Colors blending together. He blinked, tried to force his vision to focus but it only made things worse. Izuku whimpered, such a short pitiful sound. 

He grew dizzy as the figures rushed towards him. He closed his eyes as soft thuds landed around him. For a moment all was still. At least he thinks it was. 

The cuffs hissed, ice raced up his wrists again. It traveled up his arms and across his collarbones. It was so cold. He gasped as ice froze his lungs and made it that much harder to breathe.

Izuku sighed as the metal finally let go of his wrists. Fingers brushed against tender skin, he couldn’t stop the whimper from escaping at the gentle contact. It felt foreign now.

“Keep him awake.” The voice nearly shouted. It was loud and firm but not scary. Not like Hisashi’s voice was. 

“Izuku?” Another asked, smooth like honey. He couldn’t find the strength to answer. “Izuku, can you answer me?” He would much rather listen to them talk. The voice wrapped around him like a blanket, warm and safe. 

The voice kept calling him, the words lost to the haze of comfort. The chill still clung to his bones but they were a soothing warmth. The more they talked, the more he drifted off. Breaths evening out just before succumbing to inviting darkness.

Chapter Text

Shinsou Hitoshi knew this was a horrible idea. His dads and Katsuki both said that he should stay home and wait. Now, standing outside Izuku’s house, he thinks he should have listened. The house itself was quiet, like so many of his own homes. It was the monsters that lurked inside that rattled him to his core. He could feel the cold metal on his face, his scars lighting up with old pains. 

“Stay with me.” Bakugo reached out, hand squeezing his own as he spoke. Hitoshi looked towards him, eyes finally peeling away from the house. Katsuki’s eyes were full of worry but anger burned brightly over it. “Remember the plan.”

Right, they would get in as soon as they could and find Izuku. Aizawa would deal with everything else. They just had to make sure Izuku was okay.
Something had gone wrong over the weekend. The lack of answers from Izuku and later his mom had worried them all. When it was time to return to classes and he still hadn’t shown… well they feared the worse. 

“Psyren.” Katsuki hissed. He could see the way the blond looked him over, how his gaze caught on his hands that were definitely not shaking. 

“I’m good.” He made the words as firm as possible. Trying to ground himself while reassuring Katsuki that he was okay. He could do this. He needed to do this. Izuku had saved him, it was time to return the favor. 

With a nod Katsuki turned away. They both followed Aizawa, slowly approaching the house. He watched as his teacher raised a fist, knuckles knocked against the wood. On the other side of the door they could hear something crash followed by a slew of mumbled curses. The door was ripped open moments later. 

A man stood over Aizawa, taller by a head. Hitoshi could see the resemblance between him and Izuku. Dark curly hair, freckles dotting his checks, the same square jaw. His eyes were a scorching red entirely different from Izuku and built. Hitoshi stepped back ever so slightly, unknowingly.
Fucking villain.
Someone ought to chain you up before-
“Who are you?” The man asked, a spark of anger burning at the back of his throat. 

“”I’m here to check on Midoriya. He hasn’t been responding. As I’m sure you're aware we’ve-”

“The brat’s fine.” He interrupted, words slurring together. Hitoshi watched Aizawa’s hand reach for the capture weapon, tension rising along his shoulders and the slight widening of his stance. 

“I just need to talk to him.” Aizawa pushed, tone sharper. 

Katsuki stepped in front of him. Hitoshi hated that he was letting this affect him. He was past the shit homes, why was this bringing up so many memories? He couldn’t get lost in them now, he needed his stupid brain to work like a normal fucking person for once.

“No.” The man’s hand tightened on the door, wood creaking before it began to close. Eraserhead stuck his foot out, blocking the attempt. 

“I’m afraid it wasn’t a choice.” Eraser forced the door open. Katsuki pulled him to the side, warm palms on his arms as fire bursted from the doorway.

“Fucking bastard.” Katsuki cursed, already moving into the house once the flames died down. His knees shook as he followed behind the blond. He could do this, he was going to be a hero dammit and that started here. 

A loud bang sounded from the living room, cracking wood and grunts of pain followed. Hitoshi quickly stepped into the room. Eraserhead stood over the man, hair floating and red gaze trained down. He stared as the man tried to break free, shouts and curses filled the air as he laid on a broken chair. 

His foster father bound tightly in the grey fibers, foster mother crying beside him. “We had no choice! He’s dangerous!”
The weapon tightened.
“He’s a child! You swore an oath of care and protection!” Eraserhead snarled in their faces. Present Mic stepped in front of him, blocking his view. He flinched, pushing himself back into the wall as large hands filled his vision. He couldn’t breathe. His lungs tightened as Mrs. Nishimura continued to defend, to beg for understanding. He-

“Go! Find him!” Eraser shouted, snapping him out of his memories. Katsuki’s quirk popped once, twice, then: “Let’s go Psyren.”

Psyren. Be a hero, not a weak crybaby. 

“Right.” Hitoshi would deny how his voice shook, barely audible. 

He followed behind Katsuki as they raced up the stairs. He knew before this that Katsuki was familiar with the Midoriya house. There had been whispers, later confirmed, that he and Izuku were childhood friends. It really only settled in now how true that was as he easily navigated through the house. On the second floor, he didn’t bother to open any doors except one. They paused outside the far door on the right hand side. Nothing marked it. He almost expected there to be an All Might plaque like the dorms, maybe it originally belonged here and was moved. 

“You don’t have to do this.” Katsuki spoke and maybe he was right. There was no telling what lay behind that door. Izuku could already be dead for all they know or he could just be a little bruised. No sounds escaped the room, he couldn’t even guess.

This trip was already bringing up memories, he could feel the metal across his face. He fought every urge to reach up and touch the scars. Would Izuku have more scars after this? How deep would they run?

Hitoshi shook his head. Focus, you have to focus. Shoving it all away, he rolled his shoulders back and nodded. Katsuki looked him over, then turned back to the door. Whatever he was searching for he must have found.

The door flew open, the loud band drew his shoulders up. They paused just inside the doorway gaze locked onto Izuku. Fuck. Fuck! It was so much worse than he could have expected. Curled up against the wall, Izuku laid in a pool of his own blood. It coated his skin, where he was bruised, blistered, or cut open. 

Hitoshis’ heart thumped in his chest, rabbit fast at the sight. Hands weakly clutching at the fabric of his shirt. 

“Izuku!” Katsuki shouted, quirk flaring to life as he shot forward.

A small, pitiful whimper escaped his friend. It was the small push he needed. 

He moved. Hands shaking as they dropped from the fabric. His knees thudded against the carpet as he fell beside Katsuki, kneeled in Izuku’s dried blood.

They sat in silence. He couldn’t figure out where to start, what to do. What do you even do in a situation like this? His friend was broken. Completely and utterly broken and he had no idea how to help.

Up close the injuries looked so much worse. The burns were swelling with pus, the edges where healthy skin met ruined skin were bright red and swollen. He’s never seen burns this bad before, he didn’t know what this meant for Izuku. The cuts on Izuku’s arms still sluggish oozed blood. Reopened maybe? Others along his torso and legs were no longer blending. The closer he looked the more confused he became, he just didn’t know how to help. It was frustrating and god it hurt, because Izuku would know what to do if it was him. 

Hitoshi heard a hiss before Izuku whined, followed by his breaths stuttering. What-
Katsuki’s hands were already at Izuku’s wrists. He removed thick metal cuffs before tossing them to the side.

Izuku’s skin was ruined there too. Bands of deep purple wrapped around his wrists, dotted with holes. The purple spread to his fingertips in thin wispy tendrils. The marks were thick and dark on his forearms becoming a painful gradient as they thinned and faded slightly as they climbed his arm but they were still visible. Traced veins and muscles as they disappeared under the remains of his shirt, but Hitoshi could see the tendrils along his collarbones. 

“What is that?” The words left his mouth before he could stop them. Stop the question. His hands flew to his face, caging over his mouth. He wasn’t supposed to-

“Not fucking now eyebags!” Katsuki’s fist met the back of his head. “Get a fucking grip.” He continued to shout. 

Right, right, how many times was he going to do this? How useless could he be?

Izuku whimpered again as Katuski brushed his fingers over his wrists, trying to see if the coloring hid anything broken. He was so quiet in his distress. Izuku always seemed larger than life, bold and willing to go all out for anyone. Now he looked so small. It scared him.

“Keep him awake.” Katsuki wasn’t shouting anymore now that Hitsohi wasn’t actively spiralling, but was loud enough to be heard and followed. 

He sucked in a breath, let it out, and steady his own racing heart. It was minimal but would have to do. “Izuku?” He softened his voice and infused it with his quirk. The world did its little shift, faint strings appearing that grew physical when someone responded. Izuku’s thread drifted, tethered to only Izuku’s fading form. “Izuku, can you answer me?” He needed to make a connection. There was no guarantee his quirk would work for this. It’s not like he had a chance to test it but he still needed to try. 

To his horror Izuku relaxed. Shoulders settling and breaths evening out. His eyes remained shut. “Izuku, c’mon. Don’t do that. I need you to answer me. Please?” His voice began to shake. With each word he spoke, his friend relaxed just a little more. 

He opened his mouth to ask Izuku to answer him but he only let out a faint breath. It was small, more of a sigh.
Then he stopped moving.

Hitoshi held his own breath. Watching for any sign that Izuku’s lungs would take in air again. Nothing happened. 

“Aizawa!” Katsuki shouted so loud his ears ached. “C’mon fucking nerd.” 

Hitoshi scrambled back. Away from the loud noises and his too still friend. He could only watch as Katsuki ripped him away from the wall. He covered his mouth at the sound of Izuku’s skin tearing away from the floor. His stomach churned, heartbeat echoing in his ears as he choked back a sob. He heard the sharp crack of bone as Katuski began to do chest compressions.
Izuku’s heart had stopped.
They were too late. 

Chapter Text

He wasn’t sure how he got here. Everything felt far away. His gaze was fixed on his hands. They felt wrong, not his. The edges of his vision was hazy and out of focus. The only thing he could think about was how they weren’t his. 

There was so much rattling in his head. He couldn’t focus on his own thoughts, they all blended together. He wanted it all to stop but couldn’t find the energy to help himself out of it. His hands looked wrong. Why did they not not feel right?

A hand slid into one of his own. He felt just a little of the warmth but it still felt far away. There was something trailing up and down his spine. A slow pattern but he knew that touch, somewhere in his memories he felt warm. Reassured. It was grounding. Pulled him closer to himself. It was enough to hear the gentle murmur beside him. 

“You’re safe ‘Toshi. I’m right here.” 

He focused on the warmth in his hand, the gentle pressure. It was slow, time tickled by but the hand kept trailing his spine, gentle murmurs in his ear, tight squeezes on his hand. He leaned on the person, who he now realized was Katsuki. His arm moved from his back, resting along his shoulders and pulled him firmly into his side. Katsuki shifted closer, adjusting to be comfortable but still supporting Hitoshi.

He felt guilty for being such a burden at this time.

“Back with me?” Katsuki asked, hand slightly squeezing his shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” He muttered, the words bitter. It had been so long and he was doing so well and now he was back to the start. Dissociating and spiralling down. 

“No apologies. We’re at the hospital. Aizawa is just getting water. Izuku is still in surgery but should be out soon.” Hitoshi shuddered, all the memories coming back to him.

He could hear the sharp snap of bone. Katsukis’ yells filled the room before he fell silent and focused. Counting before tilting Izuku’s head back. Aizawa's hurried footsteps. The hero cursed as he entered the room. Phone already in hand as he knelt beside Izuku and Katsuki. Hitoshi just watched as his own heart pounded, breathing harsh and fast. 

“We were too late.” He whispered, still seeing Katsuki hovering over Izuku.

“No. Another minute would have been too late. We got there in time to get him out. He’ll be okay.” Katsuki’s voice was firm and he pulled Hitoshi impossibly closer. 

“My quirk- I hurt -” 

“He was already fading. That wasn’t your fault.” Katuski interrupted. It didn’t stop the guilt from building. Feeling his chest tighten. If he had kept his mouth shut, didn’t try to use his quirk, Izuku would have been fine. It was his fault, he shouldn't have tried to be a hero. His quirk was a curse, he knew that , so why? Why did he try to use it? Nothing good even comes from–

“C’mon ‘Toshi out of that head. You’re okay. Izuku will be okay. We’re all good.” He nodded, trying to breath and focus on anything else.

“Bakugou.” Hitoshi looked up. Aizawa stood in front of him, a bottle of water outstretched to Katsuki. “Shinsou.” His name was a relieved sigh, another bottle held out to him. He let go of Katsuki’s hand, taking the water with shaky hands. 

He didn’t bother to open it. Just held the cold bottle for a moment before closing his eyes again. Hitoshi tried to breathe evenly, to keep calm. He kept seeing Izuku bloody and broken against the wall. Kept remembering the way he sighed his final breath. The relief on his friend’s face. It hurt. It really fucking hurt.

Izuku had gotten him out of his shitty foster house and now, when Izuku needed to be saved, Hitoshi had left him. Had betrayed his friend in the worst way possible and left him there to die. How could he have done that? Why didn’t he fight harder to see Izuku? He should have begged his dads sooner. Should have–

Well, there were a million things he should have done. Instead he let Izuku get hurt, let him die . He– 

“C’mon ‘Toshi-” He startled at the voice. Jumping as he faced Katsuki. Oh, he had gotten lost in his head again. Red eyes scanned him, full of worry and concern. He had no right to feel sorry for himself. Not when Katsuki broke Izuku’s bones trying to get him to breathe again after his fuck up. 

God, why was he like this? He couldn’t stop getting lost in his head. He was broken and useless. Why was Katsuki still beside him? Still trying to help him?

“They're taking us to his room now.” Katuski interrupted his thoughts yet again. His warm hands taking his own and guiding him to his feet. For a moment they stood together, Katsuki’s gaze meeting his own. “Be honest. Can you do this?” He nodded. It was a lie, they both knew it, but he needed to see that Izuku was still breathing. That he hadn’t completely ruined his friend by leaving him in that house. 

With a nod, they started walking. They followed behind Aizawa and the doctor. Katsuki never let go of his hand as they wandered the too white halls. 

Dread built in his chest with each step. His grip tightening on Katsuki’s hand the further they walked. For a moment he watched the doctor and Aizawa talk ahead of them. A short distance between them to give the illusion of privacy. The doctor sharing Izuku’s condition and not wanting them to overhear. Hitoshi’s gaze fell to the floor. That was fine, Aizawa would share anyways, they would see. 

Hitoshi braced himself for the sight. Bandages and bruises. Izuku laying in a bed with a thin blanket over him. Would he look at peace again? Would he still be asleep? It was hard to think that after everything Izuku would be awake. There was so much damage done to his friend, damage he helped, how was Izuku supposed to bounce back from that? 

A darker thought of he won’t crept in the back of his mind. Hitoshi had a hard time not believing it. 

“‘Toshi.” Katsuki squeezed his hand. Right, focus. Hitoshi looked up, at the door they now stood in front of. 

“Visiting hours end at nine.” Hitoshi watched as the doctor quickly walked away. Aizawa scoffed before placing a hand on the door. 

“If you need to leave, do so.” The hero muttered before sliding the door open. 

Hitoshi let go of Katsuki’s hand, walking in behind Aizawa. Katsuki a step behind him, he heard the door slide shut behind him. His steps came to a halt, barely within the room, the moment he saw the bed. He couldn’t force himself to look away.

Izuku had his eyes closed, face blank and empty. A thin blanket lay on top of him. What wasn’t covered by the blanket was with bandages. There wasn’t a clear spot on his body that was spared from the abuse. Between all the white he could see the purple marks. The drugs left a permanent stamp on his body. 

 He looked so small underneath it all. 

For a second Hitoshi thinks of Izuku’s fluffy green back in the dorms. He loved to wrap it around himself, bury his face in the soft fluff. The pleased hum when Todoroki would sit beside him, wrapping his arm around Izuku and pulling him into his warm side. 

Maybe Todoroki should be here too. From the little things Hitoshi caught, the comments about Endeavor. Izuku’s outright hatred for the hero. The half and half teen would be able to help Izuku through this better than any of them. 

He wanted to beg someone, anyone, to explain why a father would hurt their kid this way. His own horrible past bubbled up, memories filled his mind of his own father before being dumped in the system. He had always been awful, his quirk ensured he would never be good. Izuku was full of kindness and light, he didn’t deserve this!

“The doctor told me his condition.” His gaze snapped to Aizawa. The man settled in a chair beside Izuku. 

“And?” Katsuki prompted, stepping further into the room and hovering beside the bed. Hitoshi stayed where he was. 

Aizawa let out a heavy sigh before beginning to speak. “The CPR saved his life. Well done Bakugou.” He watched his partner's shoulders drop ever so slightly, before nodding. 

“All his burns and bruises were treated. It’s the drugs that’s unknown. They can’t figure out what was used or dosage amounts. We won’t know the damage until Midoriya wakes up.” Aizawa’s gaze flicked between them. Sorrow buried deep in onyx eyes. 

“I’m sorry boys but he might not wake up.”

He may not wake up.

The memory of Izuku, small and broken on the floor, filled his mind again. The relaxed sigh of his final breath filled his ears, drowning out Aizawa words. He had caused that final sigh. Had he doomed Izuku? 

What had he done?

Hitoshi fell to his knees, the sharp crack of bone meeting hard floors filled the air. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe. He couldn’t stop the tide of emotions from pulling him under. Guilt, sorrow, regret, all swirled together and made his chest ache. It hurt, his ribs squeezing his lungs as he fought for air.

Hands squeezed his own as they forced him to let go of his hair. A hum filled the air, slow and soothing in its melody. It pulled him back to the room.
“Back with me kid?” Aizawa knelt in front of him. Hitoshi met his gaze, seeing the exhaustion and concern in his eyes. He nodded. 

“Mic’s taking you and Bakugou back to the dorms. You need a break.” His heart skipped a beat. He couldn't go back! Izuku was right there, barely away from death!

“No. No, I-” His voice was rough, cracking and breaking as he tried to gather his thoughts. 

“You need a break.” Aizawa was firm. “I’ll stay with him but you need to rest Hitoshi. This has been a lot for you.” 

“Please ‘Toshi.” Katsuki spoke quietly beside him. His palm was resting on his spine again. 

He just nodded. 

There was nothing else he could do. Nothing to fix what he had done. Whatever strength he had quickly left as Yamada entered the room. His slender fingers guiding Hitoshi to his feet. 

Hitoshi let himself drift again. Too overwhelmed to be present. He wanted to have faith that Izuku would wake up, but hope was hard to find. 

He may not wake up.

Hours later Hitoshi found himself in Katsuki’s arms. The room was cold and dark. His chest ached from the overwhelming day. There were a few short moments that he basked in Katsuki’s warmth before it all tumbled down on him. 

Hitoshi felt tears trail down his cheeks before the grief became a tsunami. Ripping him under and demanding he drown his own tears. He begged Katsuki to make it stop. His partner only held him tighter. Hitoshi’s first friend lay in a hospital bed, wires and machines forced his heart to keep beating, while he sat here and cried. 

There was nothing to be done. They just had to wait and see. It was all up to Izuku now. His choice if he wanted to fight or not.
Hitoshi hoped he would fight to come back.

He really wanted to apologize and fix what he had broken.