"His condition is stable now. Thankfully, Yuuei responded quickly and the blood pack was able to be administered tonight. [L/n]-san will have no problem recovering."
Despite the smile, the Doctor doesn't have all that friendly face. If anything, her gaze is as cold and uninterested as her plain white coat.
Still, Aizawa sighed in relieve. His beating heart finally calmed down.
The doctor tapped her pencil against her thighs, contrasting her serious gaze that seems to scrutinize Shota. "If I have to be honest, Sir Eraserhead. [L/n]-san does not need a transfusion. Although he lost a lot of blood, it is not a dangerous amount to be fatal. And with a week of rest, he could recover."
Aizawa frowned, wanting to refute but was quickly beaten to it.
"[L/n]-san lost about twenty-percent of blood. Normally, this would be hemorrhage or some shorts, but [L/n]-san's mutation allows him to survive with as little as half his blood left. Not advisable, though." She spoke calmly, gazing back at the peacefully sleeping [H/c]. She seems ten years younger than both Shota and [M/n], but her lack of enthusiasm suits an old man better.
"Then why did you do it if it's not needed." Shota frowned deeper, looking back at [M/n] again. The [H/c] laid in bed, a strange pipe attached to his arm, connecting to a secured metal tank that is strictly kept inside a glass coating. That is [M/n]'s blood bag, completely different from a normal person's plastic matte bag.
Not only that, he is kept confined behind a glass parting. Its edges tightly sealed with rubber making it air tight. A room specially built for him and him only, with sufficient vents and a fume hood on top. It looks more like a lab than a patient's room.
"Well, we have enough blood reserve to fill seven and a half [L/n]-san's. And it will still help recovery nevertheless." She shrugged, stuffing her pen inside her coat pocket.
Shota stayed silent, suspiciously glaring at the girl in front of him. "You don't act like a doctor." He finally said what had been bugging his mind.
"I'm not. I am in chemical engineering. The only doctor knowledge I have is from high school biology. I got Eighty-five percent for my endterm." That's really a mediocre score, even Yuuei's minimum passing grade is Eighty-three percent.
As if his frown could get even deeper, Shota lowers his head thinking. "Is his usual doctor also a chemist?"
"Yes, Sensei is also a chemist. He is my professor in college and he directly choose me to continue this job. Since the pay is ass, I also took another job in this research facility. So Eraserhead-san, if you have anything, you may contact me here. Here's my unofficial business card- Here's my number, here's my curriculum vitae, here's my student profile..."
Shota would like to refuse the barrage of papers and carton cards, but just this night he fumbled anxiously to death because he doesn't know [M/n]'s doctor, thus he accepted. Looking at the student profile, the woman is in her early-twenties, studying chemical engineering in the best university Japan had. Shota felt slightly assured. Ah, and her name seems to be Chieko.
Once she's done, Chieko straightened her back, looking directly at Shota. "Will sir Eraserhead be the one to take care of [L/n]-San?"
"Yes," what a firm and immediate answer...
"Well, I have a few ground rules that you preferably follow." Chieko pulled out some paper again, this time seems to be a hand-written note. "First in case of injuries, Use no AC, turn on the vents in [L/n]-San's house, open the windows, and it is recommended to wear a mask."
Sounds reasonable enough, Shota nodded, following along.
"Next, do not touch [L/n]-San without gloves. Regardless if the area touched is bloody or not. We can only take one patient and it's [L/n]-San." Seeing Aizawa attentively listening, Chieko continues. But before she starts, she coughed awkwardly. "And please refrain from being intimate. Especially during blood loss."
Taken aback, shocked, embarrassed, Shota was like an open book. And his gape mouth only makes him look ever so guilty.
"My coworker said that when [L/n]-san was brought in, his blood is concentrated in the crotch area. Not sure how he's able to do that when I reckon he's in extreme dizziness. But if it's Aizawa-san I guess it makes sense."
What does that mean? Was the scream Aizawa's expression said. And if he's in 'extreme dizziness' again, how is he turned on. Aizawa didn't think his little talk earlier would cause that.
"Professor said [L/n]-san is madly in love with you,"
Right of course. Of course the [H/c] would rat himself out. "That's still not biologically possible." Shota tried to defend himself and the last bit of dignity he has.
"You really do not want to debate biology with me. I do not know my stuff and will be stubborn. It is more frustrating to debate with stupid people." Well, at the very least Chieko seems to be aware of her weakness.
"Maybe it's gravity," Shota suggested. At this point anything, anything that will make him less guilty.
"No way, isn't that what the heart is here for? To combat this whole gravity thing and pump more blood to the head. It's not 'cause of gravity, Aizawa-san." Just accept it, was the underlying tone Chieko spoke. "We've also considered nerve damage, but it is proven to be normal, thus..."
Not long after Chieko spoke again, preventing Shota from refuting anything. "Well, Eraserhead-san. At first I wasn't sure if you played a part, a delirious dizzy person could think of anything, and erotic fantasies aren't uncommon. Although rare, It's not the first time we've seen this kind of case." You ratted yourself with your guilty act, sir.
Aizawa visibly stiffens, damn he was played.
"Now that you know, please do not get intimate with someone injured." Chieko spoke with her hands on her hips, looking a little too smug. "I may not be good at biology, but when you think about it, someone with blood loss suddenly getting on, wouldn't their last bit of blood flowed down? That would be fatal for the brain so please Eraserhead-san. At first, [L/n]-San doesn't need a transfusion, if it's like that then no wonder he pas—"
"I get it. That's enough." Shota's face has a frown worth sixty-years of his life. In the end, he has to admit what he did is inappropriate. But still he rubs his forehead trying to soothe the mysterious headache. Shota ended up wondering if he too needs a transfusion.
"Alright, then I'll leave you be. Consider this a normal hospital. Here's the button to call for the nurse, the nurses here are actual clinical nurse so do feel at ease. The bathroom is there, the TV remote is there, please do not enter the fume hood— or [L/n]-san's room in this case unless the nurse is here. The emergency exit is right up the hallway to the left, we haven't bought the sign yet but there's a written paper taped to it that says exit, though it might be a little easy to miss. Next, the stand-by nurse is eating donuts near the receptionist, if you prefer walking there instead of ringing the bell for whatever reason, he is Nurse Lays like the chips. My office is just up ahead, if there's anything you'd like to consult..."
My god do this woman talk a lot. Sadly it was all necessary information thus Shota had to listen. He nodded with each sentence, hoping it would magically make the conversation end faster. Like Shota, she doesn't seem to be fond of talking either, but unlike Shota, she can't seem to control her mouth.
After another minute passes, Chieko finally excused herself, disappearing behind the thick door of the patient ward.
Shot sighed deeply, throwing himself to the couch while his eyes linger to the window overseeing [M/n].
Everyone knows that a quirk brings both weakness and strength.
But Shota felt heavy whenever [M/n] uses his quirk. Although he knows it is the path of a hero to sacrifice oneself, it felt much harder when the one who should be sacrificed is the one you love. Shota knew this long before, which is one of the reason he is hesitant to love [M/n]. He intended to just let is pass, hoping the feeling would go away after a certain time.
It certainly didn't.
[M/n]'s quirk is a mutation type, where he is born with a special blood that is highly combustible and corrosive to organic matter. His animal traits are but a false look, serving nothing but another physical appearance he inherited from his mother. His real power lies in his blood.
He rarely relies on his blood, after all, it is built for death. If one inhales it, it could shred the lungs. If one comes into contact with it, it could melt the skin. So much so that the safest one could be in front of [M/n]'s blood is to burn it. Let it explode and hope for the best. Thus [M/n] prefers to weaponize his blood by splattering small amounts and flicking small fires into it, acting as a small explosion. That is where his hero suit came to serve.
But it could also be dangerous to him if he is not careful. A small fire could detonate it, and if he isn't prudent enough, he could detonate his whole body. Setting off an explosion that traveled from inside out. Thankfully [M/n] has mastered the craft of not having a freak accident, seeing as he is still here.
Such information was kept confidential for safety purpose. If the villains were to know a little fire could kill the [H/c], perhaps he wouldn't be as successful as he is now.
But recently, the [H/c] had risen in popularity.
That is not supposed to happen. [M/n]'s shift was at night like Shota, and it is even more supported by the fact that [M/n] always rushes his job to finish quickly so he could get a full eight-hour sleep. Barely anyone ever recognize him in action these past ten years, he was too fast at his work. Then what happened for it to suddenly change?
A simple video on the internet couldn't explain everything. Sure, he caught a whole lot of attention because of his good looks, but it is really nothing special. It shouldn't garner Japan's whole attention just like that. And now everyone knew of him. Everyone.
It is simply unheard of for a mere hero to be known by everyone, unless one is the top of the top like All Might and Endeavor.
Not to mention [M/n] is no ordinary hero. His identity is critical, and his anonymity is needed.
The more Shota thought about it, the more he frowned. Sinking deeper on the couch as his eyes kept glaring at the glass parting between him and [M/n]. Through his brief questioning he came to one conclusion.
[M/n] is being targeted.