☤
May's pulse roared in her ears. She had texted Aizawa while she was drunk, presumably getting his number from Yamada at some point in the night. May started brushing her teeth vigorously out of stress, the glitter on her face sparkling in the bright bathroom light.
The remnants of her makeup were smeared all over her face. May looked down at her feet, seeing a single hot pink polished big toe. What even happened? Then, more questions flooded her brain.
What was she even going to say to him? That's three first impressions that went horrendously wrong. She was going to have to face both of them in a couple of days.
"So." Eiko had her arms crossed at the doorway, with May's other two friends close behind. She sighed, the toothbrush hanging in her mouth. "When were you going to tell us that you knew Present Mic? And how you know his first name? Like—"
She threw up her hands, her eyebrows were angled sharply upwards. That's how May knew Eiko was upset. There were only a couple of times that May had seen that look.
Once, in particular, was because May refused to wear Eiko's new shoes to a convention. The result of ignoring her friend's request meant three weeks of a cold Eiko, her nose upturned anytime May would emerge around a corner. The other time was when May tripped, Eiko's most expensive perfume shattering on the floor of their apartment.
The aloofness only lasted a day, comparatively. May was not in the right frame of mind to deal with the wrath of Eiko. She sighed and motioned her friends towards her bed, glitter still all over the place. It was the typical post-night recollection.
"It's a long story," May started.
It took about an hour for May to explain everything, but the more she led on, the more excited and interested they became. Sara was at the edge of her seat, her eyes sparkling as May went through each hero she met.
Of course, she didn't tell them everything. Which, internally, made May's stomach ache. She knew she was doing the right thing, however. When May got toward the end of her experience, she could feel emotion swelling up inside of her.
"It's so much." Sara put her hand on May as she could feel her lips trembling. "I—I went to medical school and I— I can't help but feel I'm disappointing everyone. I could be helping people, and I'm stuck. This isn't where I thought my life would go."
Before her friends could truly comfort her, May started wailing. Her friends always joked that the only time they would see her cry was after a gin and tonic. Post-alcohol emotions always ran high for her. It was an absolute mess of incoherent speech and blubbering.
"And my coworker saw me drunk in the club? And then, and then, I texted my other coworker who already hates me—"
May was swarmed by a group hug, her best friends circling around her and hugging her as she cried off the remainder of the drunk makeup. There wasn't much left anyway.
Then, as they all sat, still in their night out clothes, they devised a plan for May to make sure she didn't embarrass herself further, which wasn't easy to do with what they had.
"You could always just not respond," Niko said, shrugging her shoulders. "Get a new number?"
"No!" Eiko interjected, holding up a finger. "A lady does not put down her head in shame, especially for a drunk text! Proudly proclaim it's you and own up to it! Honesty— best policy."
May looked to Sara, sniffling as she held open her phone. Sara's bright blue eyes were comforting to May. "I think I agree with Eiko on this one, May. You should just own up to it."
"O-okay."
May reached for her phone. It buzzed within her hand without her prompting anything. May opened it frantically, almost dropping it. Her friends leaned over her shoulder. They sputtered, holding in giggles.
>> (1) NEW MESSAGE <<
Aizawa
➞ I know this is you, Dr. Kataoka. Yamada informed me. See you at work on Monday.
✓ read
>> <<
Fuck. May's friends squealed, laughing as her face glowed a hot red color. If Yamada told him about my number, did he know about my comments? What did I even say? May's mind raced, trying to put the pieces of her night together.
The rest of the time spent with her friends was just talking about her job and answering questions they had about pro-heroes.
"You know— you're the only one who's not a pro-hero that works there." Niko pointed out, her mouth full of noodles. "Isn't that a little strange?"
"That's what I thought," May replied, resting her hand on the table. "I don't even know if they were interested in my accomplishments. I think it's my quirk."
"Oh, stop, I know what you are thinking. Of course they saw your achievements, May. It's impressive, and they would be fools to overlook that," Eiko said, propping her elbow on the table. Her wrist went limp, facing upwards.
"Besides, your quirk is interesting. It's not that bad." Eiko's eyes drifting to the ceiling. She inhaled sharply. "It's just blood."
The other three girls blinked at Eiko.
She shrugged, a light smile resting on her face. Her tone was sing-song. "You could fulfill someone's vampire fantasy. It's trendy right now."
"I— I'm. That's not— What?" May blushed, barely able to form coherent words to Eiko's little pokes. Niko and Sara laughed to themselves.
May and her friends caught up about everyone's life after discussing heroes for several hours, picking up from the somewhat forgotten bathroom conversations.
Sara was busy with her three children. She pulled out her phone, swiping through millions of pictures. Eiko asserted that the children had taste because she would send Sara baby clothes for free. Niko broached the subject of children with her wife and explained to the others that they would put in adoption applications soon.
It was bittersweet to listen to their musings about beginning families and taking the next steps in life.
May felt behind, even though she was only twenty-seven. It wasn't their fault, so she kept her feelings down. The way her life shaped itself was due to her choices.
Ugly sobbing and group hugs ensued when it was time for the group of friends to part ways. May didn't know the next time she would see them all together.
Times like these were rare, as adult life became more and more complicated.
Before she knew it, it was Monday. May hadn't responded to any of the messages she had received. Instead, she spent the day sulking in her pajamas and eating leftovers. She didn't want to face her coworkers after her stupid decision making.
May made sure to make it to her office early on Monday. She dove headfirst into her work, researching her blood, and beginning to organize medications for students.
The school year was nearing, and the thought of having people's children in her sole care was a little terrifying. Not that it was different than a hospital setting, even though it was. Being responsible for anyone's wellbeing was never easy, especially when all she had was a team of robots.
Speaking of the robots, May called Cementoss into her office to show off what she had crafted. They addressed her as Dr. Kataoka and could maneuver around her office.
She beamed, excited to share her small achievement with him, explaining the different procedures she added into their memory base. All he did was nod along to her excessive talk about memory storage and intricate medical processes. He stuck around in her office to share another cup of tea and then left shortly after.
Alone with her thoughts, May logged into the computer. It was an absolute mess. Recovery Girl wasn't tech-savvy, May concluded. Every folder was a symbol on the computer or under a strange name she wouldn't understand.
But all of the information was invaluable. It took May at least an hour to organize the desktop. How did anyone ever function with it like this? When she opened the documents folder, her face became ghostly. It was going to take her ages to decipher Recovery Girl's method to her madness.
She had to take a break from the computer after several hours. To make herself feel better, she changed the wallpaper to a fluffy white cat. All of the folders on the desktop had proper labels.
However, May barely made a dent in all of the records. She flopped back in her desk chair, her arms hanging off the side. It was mind-numbingly tedious.
May was deep in thought about organization, getting up to write another label on a pill bottle. She needed to do something tactile to give her eyes a break from the bright screen. Her thoughts drifted. Maybe no one would come by, leaving her unscathed.
Technology had already bested her. That is until she heard a knock at her door. She jumped. The pill bottle in her hand flew across the room. Oh, no! Way to go, May! She slowly turned around, her hair standing on edge. Not this guy! Come on!
"Aizawa! I— what can I do for you?" May asked. She got on her hands and knees, starting to search for fallen pills.
Her brain acted involuntarily, continuing to complete the task it had set out to do, even if she looked dumb. Her mind hummed with the realization that she would have to send in a new order to the pharmacy, which increased the intensity of her incoming headache.
"Am I interrupting anything?"
"No! No! Not at all!"
May was fruitlessly grabbing at the floor, not knowing where she was even searching. The tone of his voice was not friendly. May's face burned pink.
Why am I on the floor doing this? When she realized it wasn't a figment of her imagination, she got back to her feet, stumbling a little bit. Dusting off her pencil skirt, May faced the slumped man. He did not look amused in the slightest.
She knew what was coming. Aizawa was going to ask her about her messages. Shame her in the empty room, complete with an audience of two robots.
Mentally preparing herself, she sighed, ready to apologize profusely.
"I wanted to talk to you about the upcoming school year."
He's completely ignoring the fact I drunk texted him?
May stood speechless. Her brain stalled, then she kicked herself into hyperdrive.
"Yes, of course! What would you like to discuss?" She asked, placing the empty pill bottle on a side tray.
"We have extremely powerful quirks within the first years. So, I expect you to be busy," Aizawa started, his dead gaze reaching hers.
"I want to know what your quirk is and how it works. When my students are injured, I need to know what happens."
"It's blood," she blurted.
May tightened her lips. Why can't I speak around him? What the hell is wrong with me? Aizawa watched her fidget before responding to her ambiguous statement.
"Blood?"
"My blood." May pushed up her glasses, moving toward the fridge. "It has rapid healing and reconstructive abilities, but you have to ingest it, wipe it on, or intravenously transfuse it."
"Okay," he said. The deafening silence of awkward encounters reigned across the room.
His hands were in his pockets, not making any sudden movements or indications of another response. May didn't know what else to say, so she opened the fridge in the corner.
She held out her palm like she was a floor model for a car company, presenting her life source like a product.
"I have a stockpile! I was planning on drawing for next week as well."
His expression to her, at least, remained unchanged. His shoes were much quieter against the tile floor. Aizawa searched through the brightly colored fridge. Bags upon bags filled with May's blood were all categorized and filed appropriately.
She examined him, leaning over the fridge door.
"I am working on a dehydrated version, so it's less scary for everyone."
"Okay."
May shut her fridge door. She stared at him as he seemed to be studying her, which was even stranger. May averted her gaze, looking around the room, then landing back on him. Nothing changed.
Her hands held themselves together. May shifted from one foot to another. She spoke again, unable to handle the heaviness of the awkward one-sided staring contest and stillness of the room.
"Are— do you need anything else?" May asked, fumbling with the sleeves of her lab coat.
Aizawa moved toward the center of the room. She had strange patients before; it wasn't anything new. It was hard to take her gaze away. Do your best to be accommodating, May!
"I have a headache."
"Oh! I can help with that." May went straight for the medicine cabinet, relieved she wouldn't have to interrupt the silence again herself. "Let me get you some, acetaminophen and ice. I can darken the room, too—"
"No," Aizawa said, still standing in the middle of the room. "Use your quirk."
She stopped surveying the cabinet at his first statement. She widened her eyes at the second one. May turned back around, pointing her finger at herself. "You want me to—?"
"Yes."
May sighed. It was going to happen sooner rather than later. She thought in her head about the best way to give her blood. Intravenously would be stupid, and it wasn't a topical wound, so she couldn't just rub blood all over his face.
He was going to have to consume it, as her pills weren't perfected yet. What is he getting at?
"When did it start?" May asked as she started getting supplies ready. She looked in her fridge for a bag with a medium-potency batch of blood, grabbing the gelatinous object.
"Now."
While he was just talking to me? This guy is so freaky.
May continued through her questioning, gathering a white Styrofoam cup and an opaque black straw. "Do you feel faint, dizzy? How about your chest?"
"I feel fine everywhere else."
May spun around, studying him this time. "Can you hold your arms straight out like this?"
She held out her arms straight in front of her. Aizawa did as she asked, no arm drift present. Not that she expected to see anything. May started working again after making mental notes.
She poured the blood into the cup she had gathered, only a couple of ounces. May added some sugar to make it a little bit easier.
Would that even help? I don't know!
She capped the thick liquid and stared at it. The blood didn't break out into song and dance. May hoped it would, signaling a dream. It was foreign to her.
May never had to rely on her quirk for anything. Staring into the scarlet coloring wasn't easing any of her concerns about the future. How was she going to help students through their injuries? If Recovery Girl's notes were correct, everything would be so intense.
"Here," May said, giving it to him.
He grabbed the cup. Aizawa's head glanced down, the mop of hair her only indication of movement. He wiggled the straw, inspecting every aspect of what she had given him. May observed, sweat gathering on her forehead. Then, he went for it.
She couldn't believe what she was seeing, never in a million years guessing that pro-heroes would be consuming her blood. Or anyone at all, for that matter. Aizawa paused after taking a couple of sips.
His eyes, from what she could see, looked noticeably brighter and less exhausted. May couldn't see much past his shaggy black hair, so it made it difficult for her to gather a larger picture. Waiting for a response from Eraserhead, her eyebrows raised.
"This doesn't taste like blood," he said, casually holding the cup.
"I know, I think it's part of my quirk. It's so it's easier to ingest? I—" May stopped rambling, watching him take more sips.
It was bizarre, no scratch that, exceptionally so. May grit her teeth, her eyebrows smudged together. Her body was rigid, and her hands clutched in tight fists at her side.
"You can't look at students like you're poisoning them."
"Right! Sorry, I'm not used to this," May said, actively relaxing and pointing at him in response.
She began to clean up the little mess she made. Aizawa continued drinking. The straw made a sucking sound as he finished it off.
"How are you feeling?"
"Better." Aizawa then tossed the cup in the trash.
He made headway for the door. May noticed his gait improved marginally. It was less of an exhausted shuffle and more of a slow walk, which was a win in her eyes. May exhaled, her shoulders slumping as she draped herself over her office chair. She thought he had left, but he stopped at the doorway.
"By the way, when you text someone at three in the morning," He paused, May shooting up from her position against the chair. "Make it something important. Some of us sleep, Dr. Kataoka."
May felt her soul leave her body for the second time. Her mouth gaped, her face an explosion of cherry red against the bright white of the coat. "I-I'm s-so sorry, I- don't even remember."
"I know."
Then, he left. May didn't even try to chase after him. Her entire body paralyzed in a state of shock and embarrassment. She was moritifed. With her hands close to her side, she immediately went to her chair. Her head slammed into her desk.
He hates me. He thinks I am the worst. May's thoughts spiraled into a whirlwind of despair, the ridges of the keyboard pressing into the side of her cheek. She wasn't ready for the new school year like she thought.
Even after years of training, nothing could've prepared her for the chaos of teenagers with powerful quirks and icy instructors.