hi guys 😇 another update !!
LOOOK AT THIS FANART FROM @KiraZophis SHES SO BEAUTIFULLLLLL AGH LOOK AT THE SHADING aghhhh im in loveeee thank u so muchhh
AND LOOK AT THIS DRAWING OF MC IN HER HERO COSTUME FROM @ZERO-WILL-TO-LIVE !! SO CUTEEE THE HANDS ARE SO GOOD AND THE WINGS LOOK SO GOOD THANK UUU
i might be forgetting some fanarts just lmk !!!
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summary - woah family drama
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You've been feeling so much better since Rumi visited you. Her visit left you energetic and looking forward to getting out of the hospital, out of these four white walls, out of this stupid medical gown. There wasn't much to do at the hospital. It was quite boring, and you mostly scrolled through WikWok and facetimed Aina, who was so relieved to see that you were fine.
Your antennae twitched atop your head. You sniffled, looking up from your phone. A new smell. Usually, you could smell medicine and antiseptics, but this was different – it was warm and familiar. Your antennae twitched again, swiveled southeast, towards the entrance of the hospital. Instinctively, you stood up. Your body moved as if your antennae were dragging you across the room, to the door of your room. You could smell them. You could smell him.
You flung the door open and tentatively stepped past the door frame. Pointing your nose towards the familiar fragrance, you stepped into the hallway, supporting yourself with a hand on the wall. You quickly made your way (though, it was a semi-hobble) towards the lobby of the hospital, following the scent your antennae were picking up. You pulled your IV stand along with you.
It took about five minutes to reach the lobby, and when you saw him, your heart skipped a beat. He came to see you. A large grin made its way onto your lips, stretching your face.
You took a deep inhale; you could feel his warm scent, the one you've missed so badly, engorge your lungs. Your chest felt full as you stared at him. He looked so nervous. He was nervous. You could feel the quick thumps of his heartbeat from where you lurked.
You breathed out his name. "Zucchan." The way it escaped your lips was so satisfying. You stepped out from behind the wall. You met his eyes, his big green eyes. They seemed to grow larger as he stared at you in disbelief. His scarred hands, which were previously fumbling with each other as Natsuo spoke to the receptionist, fell to his sides. They were steady.
Then – you're unsure of who moved first – but your bodies had met halfway. His strong arms wrapped around your waist, under your wings, pulling your body flush against his. He buried his face into your neck, your papery hospital gown. You didn't smell like yourself. You smelled like the hospital and he hated it. It reminded him of everything, all the pain you've gone through. A pit formed in his chest. A pit only you could fill. He pushed his face further into you hoping to find some of your remaining saccharine scent.
"[nickname]."
You breathed in the scent of his hair. It was salty and slightly damp from sweat, and you laughed. He must've come straight from training. Just to see you. You wanted to say something. Something lighthearted about how he stunk (even though he didn't really), but there was something lodged in your throat. The collar of your gown had become wet, and you realized that Izuku was crying. You hugged him closer to your chest.
"Izuku. Izuku. Oh, Izuku, I–"
"I missed you," he whined.
You tangled five fingers through his messy green hair. "Missed you too, Zucchan."
"How are you?" he asked. He noticed that you had grown again. It seems that every time he sees you, you grow taller. Do you grow every time something bad happens to you? He worried that one day you would shoot up and hit the ceiling.
"I can't fly for a while," you said.
"I'm sorry," he said.
"For what?"
"I promised I would– I promised I would protect you. With my quirk."
His voice was a whisper, inaudible to the two onlooking Todorokis.
"It's okay." You rubbed a hand up and down his shoulder blades. "I'm fine, Zucchan. Everything's okay. I can fly when my wings fully heal."
"It's not." He pulled away, but you didn't let go of him. His eyes were so glossy; so full of pity. "It's not. You don't have to pretend like it is."
Your bottom lip quivered, and you could feel the tears gathering on your black eyes. You pulled him back into a hug, desperately. "Don't turn into a villain on me," you pleaded into his hair. "Don't."
Izuku was confused. So confused. But he hugged you back anyway. He only knew that he missed your four-armed hugs. He pulled away again, held you by your elbows and looked up at you. There was a gleam of determination shining in his emerald eyes. It was a different look, more intense than any look of conviction you've seen before.
"I'm gonna be a hero," he proclaimed. His eyes were watery, his voice shaky. "For you."
You paused, opened your mouth. Looking away, you decided to say nothing.
He puffed his cheeks out, and they turned a shade of red as he continued to stare at you. 'I'm not gonna let you outta my sight,' he told himself. 'I'm not gonna let you get hurt again.' But he felt too shy to actually say it out loud in front of the Todorokis.
Your eyes trailed from Izuku's curly hair to the two others. Your eyes met Shouto's first, then Natsuo's. You felt your stomach drop when you saw Natsuo. It was guilt. Raw and sharp, jutting through the delicate pink lining of your stomach. Though, you're not quite sure why. It didn't feel right. Something felt amiss. Something important. Something you're forgetting.
There were words, words that wanted to spill from the tip of your tongue, but all of the sudden, your tongue inflated, and it scratched the room of your mouth like sandpaper; you were left speechless. You didn't know what you were trying to say. Not at all.
Izuku had left your arms, and Natsuo's scorching body had replaced it. He hugged you even tighter than Izuku had, but you couldn't return it. Whatever you were forgetting was bothering you so deeply, that you only wanted to think. Your mind was elsewhere.
"[first name]?" Natsuo pulled away for a moment. He looked at your eyes, but he couldn't tell where you were looking, what you were thinking. Though wherever it was, it wasn't at him. He searched your eyes, which were glossed over. Why aren't you hugging back? Did he do something wrong? No way. He hasn't seen you in weeks. Natsuo's tight grip held you flush against him. He pulled your head to the crook of his neck, whispered into your [hair color] hair: "[first name], please." His voice trembled slightly. Please, hug me back.
"Touya."
You whispered. You remembered.
Natsuo's blood ran cold at the name.
"What? No, [first name], it's me." His voice was unsteady. So were his hands. You could feel them shaking on your back through the thin hospital gown. "It's me, Natsuo," he cried, pulling away from the embrace. Shock was clear in his voice. "It's me. Natsuo, your best friend?"
You could feel his body shake, the vibrations rippling through the air. You could feel the way his heart skipped several beats when you said the name. "You're playin' a joke on me, right, [first name]? Come on, you know it's me. This isn't funny–"
Did you forget him? Is your amnesia acting up? Fuck this shit. Why does it have to be you? Why does all of this shit have to happen to you? He hated the fact that he couldn't help you. Why are you acting like this? Like you've forgotten his name?
"I'm not Touya. Touya's dead," he forcefully said. "Remember? He died eight years ago. He's gone. It's me, Natsuo."
Finally, your eyes met his. His words had brought you back to reality. Touya's dead. His desperate gray eyes were squinted at you, trying to determine your state. They were watery, but he didn't want to cry in front of Shouto and Midoriya. His eyebrows were raised in worry, dread, wrinkling his forehead.
You hugged him, finally, nearly clawing his back with your nails. "I know it's you, Natsuo. I know it's you." You buried your face into his neck. Your lips moved against his skin. It tickled. His arms wrapped around you. He breathed you in, felt your chest rise against his. Thank God. Thank fucking God.
"Don't joke like that. That's cruel, [first name]." He wiped away his tears. "Shit, I thought you forgot who I was."
"I'm sorry. I... I need– I could never forget you, Natsuo," you quickly said. You pulled away, trailed your hands up to his broad shoulders. You felt horrible. "I need to tell you something. Something important."
He tilted his head slightly. "What? It better not be another joke like that."
You glanced towards Shouto. Your eyes lingered on him. On his singular, vibrant blue iris. He returned your heavy gaze, confusion clear in his expression. Why are you looking at him like that? Like you're scared? Are you scared of him? No, you can't be...
You pressed your lips together. Do you tell him? Should you? He's young, should he be burdened with such knowledge? But he has the right to know. It's his brother after all. His blood.
No, you decided, it's too soon for him.
Your eyes finally left Shouto's. They quickly glanced over Izuku, who looked extremely concerned, and found Natsuo's again. "Alone."
Natsuo nodded. The two of you turned around the corner.
Shouto stared at the direction you and his brother had walked in. There was a deep scowl on his face, his eyebrows furrowed, and his upper lip lifted in a slight sneer.
Izuku glanced at the boy and did a double-take at his clearly upset demeanor. "T- Todoroki-kun!" he gasped. Why the hell did he look so angry!? "Are you okay!?"
"I..." Shouto stared at his rough hands. "She didn't hug me, Midoriya."
"Oh." Izuku raised his thin eyebrows. He almost laughed. He wanted to. "Well, she looked like she wanted to."
"She glared at me."
"That wasn't a glare."
"It was."
Izuku knew your face, your niche expressions, and he knew that that was not a look of contempt. "That was her thinking face."
Shouto crossed his arms. He let out a sound that sounded almost like a harrumph.
"Todoroki-kun..."
Shouto shook his head. He must've been seeing things. "Did you hear her?"
Izuku slightly frowned. "Huh?"
"Touya. [first name] said Touya." Shouto slightly shivered, feeling cold all of the sudden. The name tumbled down his tongue, like his tongue was a finicky cobblestone road, and his older brother was an old horse buggy. It was unfamiliar in his tongue, and he couldn't recall the last time he had uttered it.
Izuku cocked his head to the side. He was confused. "Who's Touya?" The name sounded the slightest bit familiar, but he couldn't put his finger on it. He realized that he's probably heard the name come outta your mouth before.
Shouto let out a deep sigh, from the very bottom of his lungs. He shut his eyes for just a moment, collecting his thoughts. "Touya is–" He paused, looked up at the white tiles in the ceiling before looking back down at Izuku with a straight back. "–Touya was my older brother. My oldest brother..."
Natsuo crossed his thick forearms across his sturdy chest. "What is it?" he asked, a certain restlessness in his tone. "Why were you calling me Touya?"
"I wasn't. You're gonna call me crazy for this," you steadily said, "but listen to me."
Natsuo nodded. He was curious as to what you had to say to him. What was so secretive that it couldn't be said in front of Midoriya or Shouto? His heart thrummed against his chest, and you could totally feel it; he was nervous. "I'm listening, [first name]."
You held up your arm, the one without a hand. Natsuo stared at the bandages, the nub at where your wrist was supposed to be was tinted a dark shade of burgundy. He cringed at the sight. Shouto was quiet about the day you were taken, so he didn't know much of the details, and he certainly didn't know the extent of your injuries.
With a shocked gasp, he took your wrist in his hands. How did he not notice that when he was hugging you!? You winced. The skin was still tender from being singed, though the darkened skin had begun to scab over, starting the healing process. Seeing that it caused you pain, he dropped your wrist. You pulled it to your chest, lightly rubbed your forearm to ease yourself.
"What happened?" he interrogated. "Your whole- Your whole hand...!"
You stared at your bandaged wrist. "That's the thing – I need to tell you who did it. Or who burned it. But–"
"Someone burned it!? Scorched your whole fucking hand off!" Natsuo's mind immediately jumped to his father; his powerful red flames. As someone who has seen first-hand the seething, vermillion plumes of his father's Hellflame, Natsuo could vouch that those flames were more than capable of burning someone's hand off. Additionally, he has also seen first-hand the glaring looks Endeavor would give you all those years ago.
Like when you showed up at Touya's funeral.
To Natsuo, the thought of Enji burning your hand off wasn't implausible.
"That old bastard!" Natsuo roared, stomping his left foot. His face was fuming with indignation.
You jolted at his sudden shout. "Natsuo!" you slightly scolded, swiveling your head around to see if his loud shout alerted anyone. You quickly caught on. You've noticed that both Natsuo and Shouto prefer to call their father Old Bastard rather than Father. "No, it wasn't Endeavor," you clarified. "And it was cut off and then burned."
Natsuo looked befuddled. Like that last part mattered! There was another flame-wielder? One capable of injuring you so severely? "Who?" he asked, quieter than before.
You hesitated, seeing his reaction. You knew it would be even worse.
"Come on, who is it? I'll find them."
You slightly chuckled, but it lacked your usual luster. "Don't tell anyone," you said. Your voice trembled, deviating by just the slightest octave. The words about to come outta your mouth were so crazy even you wouldn't believe them if you were Natsuo. You reflexively flexed your wings a bit, as if readying yourself for flight, to fly away from this conversation. "It's... I don't know – Just... Just believe me. Please?"
Natsuo graciously nodded. He was wholly unsuspecting of what you would reveal. The heaping pit grew in your stomach. How will he live with what you are gonna tell him?
"I always will."
With one pair of arms, you clutched the fabric of your pale blue hospital gown, your knuckles nearly bone-white. You stared at his small, white eyebrows instead of his eyes, as looking at his puppy-like gray eyes would be much too painful for you. You took a deep breath, felt the cold, disinfectant-scented hospital air invade your lungs, stretching your chest, winding up your voice.
"D'you remember that time," you began, your voice much meeker than you intended it to be, "when we were studying for midterms and you were at mine? When we got hungry, but there was no food in my fridge?"
You took another breath. It was shuddery and shallow. Natsuo nodded, his eyebrows knitted together as he recalled the day. You had slept together that night. You continued, slightly louder this time.
"D'you remember that guy that bumped into you and made you drop your wallet? With the blue eyes and black mask?"
"Him?" Natsuo nearly shouted. His eyes looked crazed, his face red, like an enraged bull. "Of fucking course he was a villain!" The man who was speaking about you so lecherously! The man who was speaking about you like you were a fucking blow-up doll! That man...! Natsuo's thick fingers curled into tight fists; he remembered how good it felt to punch that creep. Although, he was pretty sure he cut his knuckle on a staple.
Seeing the absolute hatred in his eyes, you took another breath. Deep, and grimy, and painful. Your throat felt tight, like it was closing in on itself. Another breath. Just as obstructed as the last. Your two antennae shivered with every exhale.
"Natsuo, do you know who that was?" Your hands were shaking. All three of them.
You sensed that he was about to move, and for a split-second, you thought he would punch something, but instead, he put his hands on your shoulders. His hands were big, and warm, and so, so gentle, and you allowed yourself to relax for a moment. Just a moment, before you remembered what you had to tell him.
"[first name]," he fiercely said, "you'll never have to deal with that guy again, I'll make sure of it."
"Natsuo," you murmured. You searched his eyes for something. He leaned in closer. You drew back into yourself, your antennae pointed towards him before wilting lethargically against your forehead. He placed his forehead against yours. Your skin, like usual, was cold and clammy. He stared into your big black eyes, mesmerized by the hexagonal pattern akin to that of a bug's eyes.
His hand reached up towards your face. He swiped his rough thumb underneath your left eye. You hadn't realized that you were crying.
"Nevermind. I don't wanna tell you," you weeped, a sense of remorse enveloping you. You never should have considered telling him.
"Tell me what?"
"It'll ruin you. I know it."
"Tell me."
He demanded. He needed to know.
Recoiling from his head against yours, you shook your head, tightened your lips together and shut your black eyes.
His grip on your shoulders tightened. "You know me, [first name]. You know I can handle it, I can handle anything you throw at me."
His heart sped up. You were making him nervous. Was it that bad?
"I know I know you, and that's why I know you won't be able to handle it," you countered. You looked down at his collar this time.
"I can," he said. "I'm not gonna cry like some- some–" He broke off, unsure of what to even say. He dipped his head, interrupting your gaze on his collarbones and forcing you to meet his eager gray eyes.
"I need you to trust me too."
"I do trust you. So much. But–" You wiped your eyes with the back of your hand. "–God, I don't even wanna say it."
Natsuo waited for you to speak.
Finally, you revealed the shocking truth.
"Touya's alive."
When you returned to the lobby about twenty minutes after you had left, you saw Izuku and Shouto sitting on the lumpy hospital chairs, which you have been sitting on for the last week and a half. Natsuo's eyes were red and puffy, as were yours. Izuku noticed the distance between the two of you and wondered what happened, looking between you two curiously (but mostly at you).
Shouto stared at you. Stared hard. You looked away, down at the tiled floor of the hospital. Shame and grief flowed through your veins, gushing out of your pores like dark ooze and cloying the room. You wondered if they could feel it. "I think you should go," you told the three boys.
Natsuo nodded. Unexpectedly, he pulled you into a side hug, and placed a small peck beside your eye. "Thanks for telling me, [first name]," he said, his voice clearly pained. "I'll wait in the car."
You smiled somberly at him. "Bye, Natsuo."
Even though he wanted to stay longer (he was even hoping that you would let him stay with you in the hospital), Izuku nodded in understanding. "You must be tired," he said. "Do you know when you'll be discharged?"
There was a hopeful twinkle in his eyes, one that told he was really asking when he'd see you at UA again. You bit your inner cheek. "Next week probably, but..." Your jaw tightened nervously before loosening again. "I think I'm gonna take a break from UA. Just for a while," you instantly added, praying it would please him, that he wouldn't berate your decision.
You knew Izuku wasn't one to do something like that, of course. Still...
"If you leave UA, I leave UA."
Izuku's eyes widened drastically. He looked shocked, but robotically nodded. He didn't know why he was surprised; he expected this. In fact, he was prepared for you to say you were leaving UA entirely. He trusted the academy, their staff, but... they've failed you. Your handless arm was striking evidence of that.
Again, Izuku nodded, and he knew what he would say. He gave a comforting – albeit, shaky – smile. "Okay. If that's your final decision, I'll support you. I think you should stay home for a while, too. Recover and just... heal."
"I'll be at my parents'."
"How long?"
"Few weeks."
You didn't know why you were beginning to tear up again. Maybe it was because you wouldn't be seeing him for a few weeks, you wouldn't be able to hug him, to touch him. You don't wanna distance yourself anymore. You don't want to lose the good things you have in life.
Izuku pulled you into his arms again. "Alright. Just– Remember to call me alright? Let me know how you're doing, how you're feeling."
"I will."
You pulled away from his hug, giving him a big, fat smile.
"[first name]."
Your antennae attentively swiveled towards Shouto, your head turning shortly after. You had nearly forgotten he was here. He was so quiet. You hummed, saying his name.
Shouto closed in on you, and Izuku had moved out of the way, already suspecting what his friend would do. You waited for what Shouto would do. You could sense his nerves, his rapid heart; as he stared at you with his bicolored irises, you could see how intent he was. He opened his arms slightly, awkwardly, and tilted his torso to the left a few degrees, as if calculating the angle at which he had to hold his arms out to fit your body against his.
Is this how she did it, he asked himself, when she first hugged me? It felt unnatural to hold his arms out like this. He waited. For what? For you to do something? He himself didn't really know what to do. It looked so natural when you hugged Natsuo and Midoriya. Why couldn't he replicate it?
You stared at him, an incredulous look on your face. A laugh spurted through your lips, his awkward nature instantly lightening your mood. You stepped forward, into his arms. Looping two arms around his waist and the other two under his pit, you brought his body flush against yours. A hand went up to the back of his neck, pulling his scarred cheek against yours. His body was so stiff.
"Like this," you whispered into his warm ear. "Just relax, Shouto."
Yes, this felt right. This is how you're supposed to do it. "Thank you."
His arms slowly reached around your waist, under your mottled gray-brown wings. One of his hands was hot and the other was cold as they slid across the thin fabric of the hospital gown. He rested his chin on your shoulder, shut his eyes, and you could feel his body go limp in your arms. You chuckled in his ear.
"Did'ya miss me?"
Shouto only hummed.
Behind your back, Izuku sent Shouto an encouraging thumbs up.
Shouto's such a cat.
...
A few days – and many visits from your friends – later, you were visited by someone who you never would have suspected to come see you. He stood there, in the doorframe, in his lanky glory; his head was tilted downwards, so that his neon green hair covered his eyes. You stared at him, confused. Why the fuck is he just standing there?
He looked up, scowled, glared at you with his slanted eyes. The sharp blades protruding from his green cheeks glistened under the glaringly white light of the hospital room. "Fuck are you staring at me like that for?"
You deadpanned at the boy. "Bitch, you're the one that came to visit."
He grumbled under his breath. "Did you know?" he questioned out of the blue. His voice sounded like he was accusing you, and you were suddenly scared of what he knew. You averted your eyes, trying to think if you've had any slip-ups around the boy. Have you mentioned anything to him alluding to your quirkless past, your connection with various villains?
"Whaddaya mean, Kamakiri-kun?" you returned, trying to seem as innocent as possible, giving him those irresistible big, black bug eyes.
He crossed his long arms over his chest. You could see that his fists were clenched. "That your mom is my mom's cousin," he boldly revealed.
You thought for a moment. Your mom has never mentioned having any cousins, and although you haven't seen any of your cousins in years, you were sure none of them were Kamakiri Togaru.
It took you a few moments to realize that he was most likely talking about your biological mother, the one that left you in the orphanage for a reason you couldn't remember. By now, you'd forgotten her name, her voice, her face. Hell, you couldn't even remember her quirk – or if she even had one in the first place.
"Are you fucking with me?"
Kamakiri knew you wouldn't believe him. There was no reason to. If you told him what he was telling you, he probably would've yelled at you, or something. But he was shocked, too. He only found out a few days ago. He was scared.
"No."
"Whaddafak."
"Yeah."
You stared at him, wide-eyed. Questions rushed through your mind, so many questions that they all tried to topple outta your mouth at the same time. This resulted in a weird, gurgled sound coming outta you. Your antennae were pointing straight up, shocked. "How d'you know that?" you asked the first question of many.
Kamakiri walked into your room, shut (more like slammed) the door behind him, and stood by the one window in your hospital room. Since it was summer, the sun was still shining brightly at 6:30 PM. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded paper, throwing it haphazardly onto the blanket splayed across your lap.
Cautiously, you unfolded the paper, reading the contents.
"You lost a lot of blood," he slowly said as you read the official document. Your eyes scanned the black text over and over, the disbelief melting away, only to be replaced with this strange, sober feeling. "You needed a blood transfusion, but it's hard to find blood donors with fucking cold blood – even more so when you have to take account of the different blood types. The quickest way to find someone compatible was to take a DNA test–"
You stared at the paper then at him. You met his dark green, almost black, eyes. "And you came up? You gave me your blood?"
Kamakiri sighed. He looked angry all of a sudden. "I couldn't. We have different blood types."
"So who...?" You gasped, realization wracking through your body. You stared at the paper again, rereading the text. You flipped it over, revealing a family tree. You spotted your name, with a last name that wasn't your own. There was a face above your name, indicating she was your biological mother, a woman who looked eerily familiar. It felt like deja vu.
Kamakiri nodded.
"My..." It felt wrong to say mom, the word was suddenly foreign on your tongue, so you didn't. That woman, the one who had given birth to you, hasn't been your mother since she decided she didn't want you anymore. She hasn't been your mother for fourteen years.
"Why are you telling me this?" you pondered.
"Do you wanna meet her?"
You stared at him, dumbfounded.
"What'd you say?"
Kamakiri turned to fully face you. There was a strange look in his eyes, one you couldn't pinpoint. You could feel that his heartbeat was steady – you couldn't say the same about yours though. You felt like your heart was ripped out of your chest cavity and rolled down a jagged mountainside.
"Do you wanna meet your mother?"
You stared at him like he was stupid; like he had just said the most idiotic thing ever, in the world of idiotic things to say. "Are you serious? Why the fuck would I wanna meet her after she- after she–" Your bottom lip quivered, as did your voice. It felt dry, and you didn't wanna speak anymore. Your voice sounded hoarse and ugly as it ripped from your throat.
It's been nearly fourteen years, and now you know the identity of your birth mother.
"Habuko [mother name]," you scornfully muttered. In another world, one where your mother loved you, you could've been known as Habuko [first name]. "Fuck her."
"Yeah, fuck her," Kamakiri agreed. "Total bitch."
...
wc - 4,846 words
bye this is so poopy ugh i like pushed myself into a corner w my writing but whatever !!!!!!!!! this is like the shortest chapter ive put out in a long while but yayyy !!