Work Text:
Fuma was patient. Calculated.
His hideout, deep within the broken shell of a once-forgotten underground lab, hummed with old tech. When the boy was thrown at his feet, bound and bruised, he barely blinked.
“This is him?” Fuma asked, brow raised.
“Sidekick to that self-righteous hero,” Nicholas confirmed, cracking his knuckles. “Euijoo, right?”
Fuma knelt down to meet the boy’s half-lidded gaze. “You’re smaller than I expected.”
Euijoo didn’t respond. His eyes, dull but defiant, refused to flinch.
Good, Fuma thought. Weak powers or not, there was a spirit behind that silence. He could work with that.
“Lock him up,” Fuma ordered, standing. “The heroes will come for him.”
But the heroes never did.
<><><><>
Fuma waited. They all did. His team, calculating and cold Yudai, tech genius Yuma, infiltration experts Jo and Harua, the youngest chaos experts Taki and Maki, and Nicholas, their best fighter. All of them prepared traps, reinforced the hideout, and intercepted every frequency.
But not a single transmission came.
“Maybe they’re playing it smart,” Harua offered, lounging upside down on the couch.
“Maybe they just don’t care,” Nicholas muttered, tossing a stress ball at the wall. “He didn’t even struggle when we took him.”
Fuma glanced toward the holding room, where Euijoo sat curled on a cot, not even trying to escape. The bruises hadn’t faded. The cuffs were no longer necessary, but no one had thought to remove them.
Fuma frowned.
<><><><>
“You’re wasting your time,” Euijoo said softly, as Fuma brought him food himself.
Fuma didn’t respond right away. He set the tray down.
“No one’s coming for me,” Euijoo continued, staring at the cold wall. “They probably already replaced me.”
Fuma scoffed. “You’re being dramatic.”
“I was their liability.” Euijoo looked up at him. “A sidekick with a glorified first-aid kit. Why would they come for me?”
That night, Fuma stared at the security feed longer than he should’ve. He watched Euijoo pick at the bread, curl up tighter than any prisoner should have to, and flinch whenever the lights flickered.
<><><><>
He let Euijoo out.
Everyone questioned it.
“You’re trusting the hostage?” Yuma blinked.
“He’s not going anywhere,” Fuma said, tone clipped.
They all waited for him to escape. But Euijoo just… stayed. He ate quietly and helped Taki organize medical supplies. He even offered to help Harua wrap an injury after a mission.
There were no powers, no threats.
No escape attempts.
And no one came.
<><><><>
“You were really going to use me as bait?” Euijoo asked one evening, sitting across from Fuma in the makeshift lounge, sipping instant ramen like it was fine cuisine.
“Yes.”
Euijoo didn’t look hurt. He just nodded.
“Good plan,” he said with a humorless chuckle. “But I told you. I wasn’t worth it.”
Fuma leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “Why do you say that so easily?”
Euijoo stared at him. Really stared.
And Fuma saw it. He saw how sunken Euijoo’s eyes were, how the scar on his cheek looked poorly healed, and how his ribs still peeked through too much skin.
“They used me until I wasn’t useful. You kidnapped a pawn, not a player.”
<><><><>
The others started warming up to Euijoo too.
Taki and Maki dragged him into their pranks. Jo taught him card games. Yuma gave him a commlink “just in case.” Even Nicholas grunted a sort of approval when Euijoo mended a deep gash in his arm.
Euijoo’s healing was simple. Touch, focus, and calm. Skin mended. Bruises faded. But it left him tired.
“It’s not much,” he’d say.
But it was enough for Fuma to watch him longer. Closer.
And he saw more than healing. He saw patience. He saw a kind soul, one still stitched together from a hundred little betrayals.
He saw something no one had ever really protected.
And Fuma wanted to.
<><><><>
“They’re coming,” Yudai said grimly, monitoring incoming signals. “The hero and his crew.”
“Let them,” Fuma muttered, cracking his knuckles. “We’ll show them what happens when you mess with us.”
But when the fighting broke out, when the explosions rattled the walls and the air choked with smoke, it was Euijoo who threw himself in front of Fuma.
“Get back!” Euijoo shouted, standing between Fuma and blast of kinetic force.
His eyes glowed gold.
Power surged. His hand touched the villain who’d fallen beside him. Jo, bleeding from the chest, was healed in an instant.
Then something shifted.
The hero who’d struck Jo, the one with Euijoo’s hand still on his chest, took a single step forward and collapsed. Dead.
Fuma stared at Euijoo, who stared at his hands, shaking. The light in his eyes flickered.
“I didn’t mean to-- I just wanted to--” His voice cracked. “What did I do?”
Fuma stepped forward, gently taking his wrists. “You didn’t know.”
“I didn’t think I could kill--”
“You were protecting us.”
“I wasn’t supposed to--” Euijoo’s knees buckled. “I’m not strong enough. I’m not--”
Fuma pulled him into his arms.
“You’re more than enough.”
<><><><>
The hero team retreated, broken and leaderless. Their faith shattered when their “disposable” sidekick ended the fight in one act of raw, unchecked power.
Euijoo hadn’t spoken much since. He spent his time in the med bay, healing those who needed it, but always hesitating, always pulling back.
Fuma watched him, stood beside him, and waited.
Until one night, one the rooftop above the hideout, Euijoo finally asked, “Why do you care?”
Fuma didn’t blink. “I may be a villain, Euijoo, but I’m not a monster. You wormed your way into our lives somehow, and I wouldn’t stop caring about you for something you can’t control.”
Euijoo turned, his eyes filled with unshed tears. “You saw what I did--”
“I saw someone trying to protect their family.”
“I killed someone--”
“You protected me.”
It was silent for a moment.
“You don’t have to stay,” Fuma whispered, voice low. “You’re free. You always were.”
Euijoo took a step closer. “I don’t want to leave.”
And when he kissed Fuma, gentle, uncertain, but real, Fuma didn’t pull away.
<><><><>
They rebuilt the hideout together.
Fuma’s team became Euijoo’s, too. They trained together. They healed together. They laughed again.
Euijoo discovered more about his power, about himself. It frightened him sometimes, how strong he really was. But now, when his hands glowed, there were always seven others ready to catch him if he fell.
And one who always stood at his side.
<><><><>
“You saved us,” Fuma once said.
Euijoo smiled softly.
“No,” he replied. “You saved me first.”