Chapter Text
Since he had attacked his mother no one had been able to get a rise out of Noumu. He was once again a hard shell, emotions muted, glowing eyes dead. He happily talked about everything they wanted to know, although it quickly became clear that he knew nothing worthwhile.
.
“How did it make you feel?” One of the endless doctors asked him.
“It didn’t.”
.
He hadn’t been ordered to do anything yet. He was tested constantly, a treatment that he was used to and helpfully made easy, but each time he was examined the doctors looked more confused. Then the heroes would come looking angry and demand to know who did this to him.
“The doctors did this to me. I was their first success. If you don’t believe me then I can prove it! Just give me an order.”
Then his mother came in with tears and apologies, begging him for his forgiveness.
He didn’t understand.
“Mom, it’s been weeks and they just want me to stay here. What am I supposed to do? I must have done something wrong but I’m usually reprimanded sooner than this. I don’t understand.”
She just held him and sobbed.
.
“Why don’t you feel anything, Mido-”
“I am Noumu, ma'am.”
.
Kacchan had come too. His eye had been healed but his vision had not, and the red has a strangely glossy sheen. Noumu watched it while Kacchan stared at him.
“What happened to you?” He eventually asked.
“I don’t understand, Bakugou. Please clarify.”
“THAT! What is that!? What are you?”
“I am a Noumu.”
“That’s NOT what I mean!”
“I’m afraid I do not understand. May I ask for clarification?”
Kacchan left and didn’t come back.
.
“… Noumu. What do you mean by ‘removed’?”
“All aspects deemed unnecessary were removed. The ability to experience complex emotions in the long term was removed before physical alterations could begin.”
.
The detective was the only one to treat him the way he should have.
He was leaned over Noumu, screaming himself red in the face as the veins in his neck bulged. Noumu watched impassively, unsure if he was meant to fear the threats being spat at him. He had been designed not to fear, he had said that many times. “Well!?” The man bellowed, finally fed up.
“I agree, sir.”
“What!?”
“I should be put down. I heard you say that earlier, outside. You want me dead, don’t you? I want me dead too. Will you please?” Noumu sat up and leaned closer to the man, fighting his bonds with every movement. “Please, I know you carry a weapon. I didn’t damage Eraserhead’s skull, he can get rid of my quirk and then it would be easy!”
“… I order you to tell me what happened to you.” He looked pale. The heroes looked sick.
.
“I don’t think that’s true.”
“What?”
“You do feel. You feel things very strongly. That’s why it’s so important to you that you’re called Noumu, isn’t it?”
“… that’s …”
“You’ve expressed deep self loathing and suicidal ideation on numerous occasions. You might not feel good, Izuku, but you do feel and I want to help you feel better.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Why is that?”
“You keep treating me like I’m a human. All of you do. But I’m not. You know that right? You have to. I’m an amalgamation of quirks and my biology and psychology has been remodelled to mechanical perfection. I am no longer capable of having original thoughts. You’re a doctor, aren’t you? You should be able to tell at a glance.”
“I’m not that kind of doctor, Izuku.”
“…Then why are you here?”
“To help.”
“You can’t.”
“Humor me.”
“I can’t.”
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