Watch the World Burn

Bonding? Maybe.

Coming to is always difficult for Izuku. It does not matter how used to he gets to passing out from injuries and having to wake up later in the day or the next. It always comes very difficult to him, almost like his subconscious never wants him to wake up and face the cruel world that only brings him more pain. Usually when he comes to after injuries, he is always at his "home" with his father's employees, or his cousin, but this time, he isn't there. He is on a bed and handcuffed to the railings. The smell of cleaning supplies and the beeping of a heart monitor machine gives him all he needs to know. Izuku is in a hospital. Why? He knows the answer but he wishes for it to have been a dream and that he never ever met that godforsaken underground hero and had been dragged to U.A. That's what he hopes. But he never gets his wishes granted. He peers down at his own body, finding the hospital gown and he can feel the tight bindings of the bandages around his sternum.

He looks at both of his hands. They're both handcuffed and immobile. The one thing that catches his attention is the bandages on his arms. When did my arms get hurt? He shakes his head and looks to the side. "Dammit, my wishes never get granted, I don't see why I ever even hope this anymore." He watches the rise and fall of the detective's chest, taking in the relaxed and calm sleeping face of the adult. This is how Izuku spends his five minutes back into the land of the living before having to break the peace and silence. "Sorry, you may be peaceful, but really, this needs to be answered," he murmurs and takes a breath. "Tsukauchi. Detective Tsukauchi!"

His green gaze meets the adult's black and tired gaze. "M'dor'ya 'Zu'u?" Naomasa's words are slurred as he tries to regain his surroundings. "Your awake. How are you feel—?" He cuts himself off seeing the look of anger and the glances to the handcuffs. "Yes, I know. Those are just precautions." That isn't the best thing to say. Midoriya huffs a breath and rolls his eyes, muttering something under his breath that he doesn't catch. Tsukauchi himself didn't like the idea of cuffing him after everything. Midoriya did protect the students and the heroes, he tried to get them to leave, but it didn't seem to matter to anyone else. Apparently, all they know is that he has worked with the villains and that is all they need to hear, pinning the boy a villain. Some of the heroes can't believe that Nedzu would have a villain as a student. That just angered All Might and him. Recovery Girl just gave a harsh glare to the heroes and defended the boy saying that if he wasn't there then who knows how else the entire thing would've gone. He had stalled long enough for Iida Tenya to get by. She left then afterwards. "Midoriya, I have to ask a few questions but I need you to know that your father—"

"You told him?"

"Um, yes?"

"Did you personally speak with him or did someone else? I just need to know because if you did you know where everything is wrong in having told him."

Naomasa sees the panic and he knows why. He was the one who called him. "Yes, I did. I am sort of terrified of him at the moment. He had told me to gather a few of the heroes in front of the cell of villains and put him on speaker. I was confused but I complied—he threatened both the villains and heroes, calling heroes pathetic, and then saying how proud he was of you for showing up the heroes. The villains seemed to have been relieved that all they got was a tongue lashing." He chuckles as he sees the boy smile softly. He realizes this is the first time where he is smiling without it being the edge of a sharp dagger that's ready to cut through a person. This is the first smile that he has seen where it is actual emotion and not that of a deadly snake or it being fake or forced. That is a sad thought, he comes to realization.

The expression doesn't last long. "Can you let go of one of my hands? I don't think I can do much in the condition I'm in." His voice is level, almost dead. Midoriya doesn't seem to be in any mood to even want to talk to him any more. "I mean, come on, I know you all don't trust me and I am not asking for you to trust me. I just really feel uncomfortable like this and I want out of here as soon as possible. I hate being in hospitals," he admits. "The stench, the lights, the constant stream of people. It's overbearing. Can you see if I'm allowed to be discharged?"