Chương 99: The Boy Who Came

Midoriya woke up asking for Kota. Not his own arm. Not the pain. Not All Might. Not his mother. Kota. The first word came out broken and small, barely more than air dragged through a throat that had spent too long under medicine. Recovery Girl was standing beside the bed with a chart in one hand and anger in the other, while Inko Midoriya sat in a chair that had been pulled as close as the medical team allowed. Izuku's eyes opened halfway. They did not focus at first. Then they did, slowly, terribly, on the room.

White ceiling. Medical lights. His mother's face. Bandages. Splints. Tubes. The heavy wrongness of a body that had survived by turning itself into evidence. His lips moved.

"Kota?" Inko's hand flew to her mouth. Recovery Girl leaned over him before his mother could answer.

"Alive" Izuku's eyes shut. The sound that left him was not relief exactly. It was too weak for relief. Too exhausted. Too young. Recovery Girl's voice sharpened before he could try to move.

"Do not lift your head" Izuku froze. Good. Miracles did happen. His eyes opened again.

"Kacchan?"

"Alive" Recovery Girl said A tear slipped down Inko's face. Izuku's mouth trembled.

"Everyone?" Recovery Girl's answer took a fraction longer.

"All students are accounted for" The words sat in the room with the part they did not say. Izuku noticed. Even half-awake, even full of pain medicine, even with his body wrapped in consequences, he noticed. His eyes moved.

"Staff?" Inko closed her eyes. Recovery Girl's face did not soften.

"Ragdoll is missing" Izuku stared at her. The words reached him in pieces. Missing. Not dead. Not safe. Not here. His fingers twitched against the blanket. Inko caught the movement and made a sound. Recovery Girl snapped "No heroic twitching" Izuku stopped. He looked like stopping hurt worse than moving would have. That, Recovery Girl thought, was exactly the problem with the boy. Inko leaned closer.

"Izuku. Please. Just breathe" He tried. His breath shook.

"Mom""I'm here""I'm sorry" The room changed. Recovery Girl inhaled sharply. Inko's face collapsed.

"No" Izuku blinked. His eyes filled with panic.

"I—""No" Inko said again, not loud, but with every frightened hour behind it.

"Not first. Not before anything else. Not while you're like this" Izuku's mouth opened. No sound came out. Inko gripped the bed sheet because she could not grip him without disturbing something medical.

"You can be sorry later if you need to be. You can explain later. You can tell me everything later. But you do not wake up from nearly dying and give me sorry before I get my son back" Recovery Girl's mouth closed. She looked, for one brief second, deeply satisfied. Izuku cried then. Quietly. Not because he wanted to. Because his body had run out of ways to hold everything. Inko leaned forward until her forehead touched the edge of the blanket near his hand. Not his hand. Not yet. Near.

"I'm here" she whispered "You are here. That comes first" Izuku closed his eyes. This time, he listened. In the secured recovery suite, Ren heard about it from Recovery Girl two hours later. She came in after morning checks with her cane tapping once against the floor and her expression already daring him to ask the wrong thing. Ren was sitting at the bolted desk, the laminated photograph of Bentaro wearing Hana's scarf watching from the shelf with bureaucratic dignity. The room still had no small objects.

It still held him by the ribs. But the shelf had become stupid enough to make breathing easier. Recovery Girl checked his palms. Cool. She grunted.

"Midoriya woke" Ren's hands warmed before thought. He opened them on the desk. Recovery Girl saw. Of course she did. Ren asked "How is he?"

"Alive. Awake in fragments. In pain when the medication lets him know enough. Stupid, but that was preexisting" Ren breathed out.

"Kota?"

"First question" Ren closed his eyes. The relief hit hard enough to hurt. Recovery Girl waited. He opened them again.

"His mother?"

"Terrified. Angry. Correct" Ren nodded. That sounded right. Recovery Girl placed the secured tablet on the desk.

"Your message was delivered after his mother agreed. He heard it. He smiled at the Kota insult and then tried to apologize to the oxygen in the room. His mother stopped him" Ren looked at the tablet.

"Good""Yes""Did he understand?"

"Enough" The answer sat between them. Enough was the word of disasters. Recovery Girl leaned on her cane.

"He asked if he could see you" Ren's heart lurched. Recovery Girl pointed the cane at him before he could speak.

"No walking there""I did not say anything""You inhaled ambitiously" Ren's mouth closed. The old woman's eyes narrowed, but not unkindly.

"A screened call may be possible later. Five minutes. His mother present. Staff present. You in this room. He in medical. No heavy debrief. No guilt trading" Ren absorbed the conditions. A call. Not a visit. Not touch. Not even the same air. Still a route.

"Yes" Recovery Girl watched him.

"Do not turn five minutes into a court trial""I will try""That means you are planning speeches" Ren looked away. She tapped the cane once.

"Try shorter" He looked back.

"I want him to know both lines""He knows too many lines already""He will blame himself""Yes""He saved Kota""Yes""He hurt himself""Yes""He needs both" Recovery Girl's expression shifted.

"You are not wrong. But you are not the only person allowed to tell him true things" Ren looked toward Bentaro on the shelf. The umbrella looked ridiculous. Deeply unhelpful. Strangely steady.

"I know""Good. Then five minutes means five minutes" After she left, Ren tried to write what he would say. The first version was terrible. Midoriya. Your action preserved Kota's life but produced severe self-damage and route destabilization— He crossed it out so hard the soft pen almost tore the paper. The second version was worse. You did what you always do, and that is both why you are heroic and why everyone is terrified— Crossed out. The third became an essay.

He stopped after two paragraphs and put his head down on the desk. The desk was bolted. The room was locked. The shelf had an umbrella photograph. The boy he wanted to see was down the hall and impossible. A soft knock sounded on the glass. Ren lifted his head. Shinso stood outside holding nothing, because holding things was now a legal debate. His hair looked like sleep had attacked and lost.

He had a medical mask under his chin and the kind of expression that suggested he had been sent by either Kurose, Hana, or soup. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. The door opened after the usual checks. Shinso stepped in. He glanced at the crossed-out pages.

"Writing your way into emotional jail?" Ren pushed the paper aside.

"Trying not to""Looks like losing""Yes" Shinso sat in the removable chair, which had been allowed in because apparently it was too large to become villain technology unless the villains became very committed to furniture.

"Midoriya woke up?"

"Yes""Good""Yes""Are you about to tell him twelve paragraphs about moral complexity?" Ren stared. Shinso leaned back.

"Please don't""I know""Do you?" Ren looked at the crossed-out page.

"No""At least you're honest" Ren sighed.

"What should I say?" Shinso gave him a look.

"I'm not a greeting card""Clearly""Good. Then listen. Midoriya doesn't need you to build a shrine to both truths. He needs you to not lie to him and not drown him" Ren looked at him. Shinso's voice was rough but less guarded than usual.

"He knows he saved Kota. He knows he broke himself. He's Midoriya. His brain probably woke up and started writing apologies with the unbroken bones" Ren almost smiled. Shinso continued "Say the thing he can hold while sedated. Not the thing that makes you feel like you did enough" That one landed. Ren looked down.

"The thing he can hold""Yes""What is that?" Shinso shrugged.

"I don't know. Maybe Kota is alive and you are not allowed to disappear into sorry before you heal. Something like that. Less poetic. Less you" Ren sat with that. Less him. Probably better.

"Thank you" Shinso grimaced.

"I hate being useful emotionally""You were the one who said food is not a contract""That was defensive philosophy""It helped""Unfortunately" The call was approved at 14: 00. Ren sat at the bolted desk with the secured tablet propped against a fixed stand. Kurose stood near the door. Recovery Girl remained visible on Ren's side of the screen and somehow also present on Midoriya's side through pure authority. Inko Midoriya sat beside Izuku's bed, one hand resting on the blanket near his fingers.

Izuku looked smaller than Ren expected. Not physically. His hair was still green and impossible. His eyes were still too large for his face. His freckles still made him look younger when he was tired. But the bed made him small. The bandages made him small. The splints and lines and machines made the room insist that he was a child before he was a hero, and Ren felt something inside him twist painfully at the sight. Izuku's eyes focused on the screen.

"Akiyama" His voice was thin. Ren kept his hands visible on the desk because it had become habit and because hiding them felt wrong.

"Midoriya" Izuku's mouth tried to smile. It failed halfway.

"You're okay?" Ren could hear everyone in both rooms almost react. He answered anyway.

"No major injury. Still under protection" Izuku closed his eyes briefly.

"Good" Ren leaned slightly closer.

"You?" Izuku looked down at himself with a faint, terrible embarrassment.

"I've been better" Inko made a sound that was almost a laugh and almost not. Recovery Girl said from Midoriya's side "A breathtaking understatement from the boy who used his skeleton as negotiation material" Izuku flushed weakly.

"Sorry" Inko's hand tightened on the blanket. Izuku saw it and stopped.

"Not first" he whispered Inko nodded. Ren felt his chest loosen by one thread. Good. Izuku looked back at the screen.

"Kota?" Ren said "He told Uraraka to tell you you're stupid when you wake up" Izuku's eyes widened. Then, against medical advice written across every line of the room, he smiled. A real one. Small. Shaking. There.

"He did?"

"Yes""He's okay?" Ren chose the answer carefully.

"He is alive. He saw you breathing. He is angry. I think angry is better than empty" Inko covered her mouth. Izuku's eyes shone.

"Good" For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then Izuku's face changed. The apology came before the word did. Ren saw it. So did Inko. So did Recovery Girl. Ren got there first.

"Do not" Izuku froze. Ren's voice stayed quiet.

"Not yet" Izuku's eyes filled.

"I left the route""Yes" Inko looked sharply at Ren, but he continued before the sentence could become condemnation.

"You also reached Kota" Izuku swallowed. His throat moved painfully. Ren said "Both lines stay. Not as punishment. As map" Izuku stared at him. Ren wondered if that was too much. Then Izuku whispered "Both lines""Yes""I saved him""Yes""I scared everyone""Yes""I hurt myself""Yes" Inko's tears fell silently. Ren's hands stayed cool.

"You are alive too" Ren said "That line matters because we are not finished being angry at you" Izuku blinked. Then made a small broken laugh that turned into a wince. Recovery Girl snapped "Do not laugh with broken everything" Izuku whispered "Sorry" Inko said "Izuku" He stopped. Then corrected, barely audible.

"Not first" Ren looked at him.

"That may take practice" Izuku gave the smallest nod. The screen crackled once. Ren's heart jumped. Kurose stepped closer. Nothing happened. No object. No signal breach. Just hospital technology being ordinary. Ren exhaled. Izuku saw it. His expression changed.

"You're scared" Ren almost gave the safe answer. Then remembered Mina. Questions that leave the person larger than the answer.

"Yes" Izuku's eyes moved to Ren's hands.

"Because of what happened in the shelter?"

"Yes""You don't have to tell me" The sentence was immediate. That mattered. Ren nodded.

"I cannot tell you everything""That's okay" It was not. But Izuku meant it. Ren believed that too. Izuku's eyelids drooped. Recovery Girl looked at the timer.

"One minute" Izuku forced his eyes open.

"Ragdoll?" The name was soft. The room became heavy. Ren did not look away.

"Still missing" Izuku's face crumpled.

"I didn't even know""You were unconscious""I should have—""No" Inko said This time, her voice was firm enough to stop him. Izuku looked at her. She was crying, but her eyes had gone fierce.

"You do not get to apologize for being unconscious" Ren thought Hana would like her. Recovery Girl looked like she did too, though she would probably deny it. The timer beeped softly. Ren hated it. Five minutes. A world measured by adults trying to keep boys alive. Izuku looked at the screen.

"Akiyama""Yes""Are you here?" The question was childish and not childish at all. Ren answered without thinking.

"Here" Izuku's eyes closed halfway.

"Good" The call ended. Ren sat very still after the screen went dark. Kurose did not ask him to speak. Recovery Girl checked his hands. Cool. She looked satisfied and sad.

"Better than twelve paragraphs" Ren looked at Shinso, visible through the glass outside. He had clearly lingered where he was not technically visiting. Ren said "Yes" Shinso gave him a small nod through the glass, then walked away before anyone could accuse him of caring. On Midoriya's side of the medical wing, Izuku slept for twenty minutes after the call. Inko stayed beside him. She watched his chest rise and fall and tried not to imagine all the ways it might have stopped. Recovery Girl came in and out.

Nurses adjusted lines. All Might appeared once at the doorway in hero form, too large, too careful, too late and still desperately necessary. Inko saw him and stood.

"Toshinori" He froze. Only for a moment. Recovery Girl looked at them both with the expression of someone who had no patience left for secrets but still respected the shape of this one. All Might stepped inside.

"Inko" The Symbol's voice had softened around her name. She looked back at Izuku.

"He woke up asking about Kota" All Might's eyes closed.

"Yes""He tried to apologize" A shadow crossed his face.

"I am sorry" Inko turned on him so quickly Recovery Girl's eyebrows rose.

"No" All Might opened his eyes. Inko's hands shook at her sides.

"I cannot stop Izuku from apologizing to the room if you do it too" All Might looked as though she had struck him. She continued, quieter.

"I know you blame yourself. I know enough to see that even if you stand there like a billboard. But not first. Not in front of him. Not when he is trying to learn how to stay alive without turning every breath into debt" All Might's shoulders lowered. Not dramatically. Enough. Recovery Girl murmured "Good" Inko wiped her face.

"I'm angry at you too. I don't know how much yet. I don't know where to put it. But I need my son to wake up in a room where adults are not teaching him to apologize for surviving" All Might bowed his head. A deep bow. Not Symbol to citizen. Man to mother.

"You are right" Inko's breath shook.

"I hate that sentence today""I do too" Izuku slept through it. That was probably mercy. Kota was allowed to see Midoriya breathe again at 16: 00. Not enter. Not touch. Glass only. Mandalay brought him to the window outside the medical room. Kota stood with his hands shoved into his pockets until a nurse gently reminded him that pockets had to stay visible in this area. He yanked them out with a glare and crossed his arms instead. Midoriya slept. His face was pale.

His hair looked even messier than usual against the pillow. One arm was heavily immobilized. The other was worse. Machines marked his breathing with soft lights. Kota stared.

"He looks stupid" Mandalay, standing behind him, swallowed.

"Yes" Kota's jaw trembled.

"He looks like he lost" Mandalay crouched beside him.

"Do you think he did?" Kota glared at the glass.

"No""Then what does he look like?" Kota did not answer for a long time. His eyes stayed on Midoriya's chest. Up. Down. Up. Down. Finally he said "Like it cost something" Mandalay closed her eyes.

"Yes" Kota's fists tightened.

"I hate that""So do I""He told me heroes save people" Mandalay did not know what to say. Kota looked at her.

"Do heroes always look like that after?"

"No" His eyes narrowed.

"Don't lie""I am not. Not always""Too much?" Mandalay's face twisted.

"Yes. Too much" Kota looked back at Midoriya.

"I used my water""You did""It was small""It mattered" He sniffed angrily.

"Everybody keeps saying small things matter now. It's annoying" Mandalay almost laughed. It came out broken.

"I know" Kota leaned closer to the glass.

"You're still stupid" he said to the sleeping boy "But if you wake up, I'll tell you properly" Midoriya did not wake. His chest rose. Fell. Kota stayed until the ten seconds ended. Then he asked for five more. Mandalay looked at the nurse. The nurse gave them five. That was how recovery looked sometimes. Not miracles. Not speeches. Five more seconds at a window. Ren heard about Kota later from Uraraka. Her message came through the screened tablet, shorter than usual. Kota saw him.

He said Midoriya looks like it cost something. I think that's the best description. I don't know what to do with it yet. Ren recorded back. Maybe we do not do anything with it yet. Maybe we keep it from becoming either victory or failure too quickly. He nearly added more. Stopped. Then added only: Tell him the message was accurate. Kurose approved it.

"Shorter" she said Ren looked at her.

"Better?"

"Usually" He thought of Shinso. Less you. Maybe better. Dinner arrived with a complication. The complication was Bakugo. He did not come into Ren's room. Target spacing still held. But his text arrived through screened channels, which meant an adult somewhere had read it and decided it was acceptable or given up. It said: Did Green wake up? Ren answered: Yes. A minute later: He stupid? Ren looked at the message for a while. Then typed: Very. The response came almost instantly. Good.

Then, after another minute: Don't tell him I asked. Ren typed: He will infer. Bakugo's reply: Then tell him wrong. Ren smiled. He sent: You can tell him yourself when allowed. No answer came for five minutes. Then: Tch. That was probably yes. The evening call with Hana and Daichi came after dinner. They were in guardian housing, and Bentaro had been placed behind Daichi in frame like a decorated war veteran. Hana noticed Ren looking and said "He insisted" Daichi said "Rank must be visible" Ren smiled.

Hana's eyes sharpened immediately.

"You saw Midoriya?"

"Screened call""How was he?"

"Alive. Hurt. Himself" Hana nodded slowly.

"That sounds like the boy" Ren looked at her.

"You met him once""I am a mother. We recognize certain disasters" Daichi asked "Did seeing him help?" Ren thought. The answer was not simple.

"It made the room less impossible" Hana accepted that.

"Good enough" Daichi leaned closer to the screen.

"Did you eat dinner?"

"Yes""All?"

"Most" Hana said "Recovery Girl will tell us" Ren said "Then why ask?"

"To see if you attempt crime" Daichi looked proud. Ren rolled his eyes. The motion felt normal enough to startle him. Hana saw that too. Her face softened. Then she asked "Are you angry today?" Ren glanced at the shelf, the photo, the door.

"Yes""At the room?"

"Yes""At us?" The question surprised him.

"No""At us later?" He paused.

"Maybe. Not for anything you did. Because you are part of the rules" Hana nodded as if she had expected the answer.

"Good" He almost groaned. She raised a finger.

"Do not make that face. I mean it. If the rules make you angry and we are carrying some of the rules, some anger may splash. That does not mean you are cruel. It means we should not pretend love makes us invisible" Daichi said "Your mother has been planning that sentence""I have not""She has" Ren looked between them.

"I will try not to splash" Hana's voice became gentle.

"You will fail sometimes. We will survive it" That was a larger kind of permission than the room had given him. He did not know how to hold it. So he nodded. After the call, Ren sat with the chart open but did not write immediately. The day had been full of people asking and answering around wounds. Midoriya asking for Kota. Inko refusing sorry before son. All Might being stopped before apology became atmosphere. Kota asking whether cost always looked like that.

Bakugo asking if Green woke up without using his name. Hana asking whether Ren might become angry at the people enforcing safety. Every question had changed the room it entered. Some had made it smaller. Some larger. Ren wrote: Midoriya woke. First question: Kota. He is alive, badly injured, and already trying to apologize. Inko stopped him. Good. Screened call. Told him both lines stay. He understood enough. Kota saw him breathing and said he looks like it cost something. Accurate. Bakugo asked if Green woke up.

Do not tell him. Impossible. Parents asked if I might be angry at them later because they carry rules. Maybe. They did not break. He stopped. Then wrote the line that had been waiting since Recovery Girl's first update. The boy who came back for Kota came back hurt, and anyone who tells only one half is lying. He read it. Not too neat. Not too clean. Trustworthy. Before lights dimmed, a final message arrived from Midoriya's room. Not from Izuku. From Inko, passed through Recovery Girl.

Thank you for not asking him to be simple. Ren stared at the sentence. Then he placed the tablet down and covered his eyes with one hand. His palm was cool. He cried quietly enough that the room did not need to become an emergency. When Kurose checked through the glass, he lowered his hand and shook his head. No intervention. She stayed visible anyway. That was enough. Later, the secured recovery suite dimmed around him. The shelf held Bentaro's ridiculous photograph. The kettle stayed bolted.

The door stayed controlled. The room was still a box, but not the only thing he could feel. Somewhere down the hall, Midoriya breathed. Somewhere near him, his mother guarded the first apology and refused to let it become the first thing. Somewhere nearby, Kota waited to call him stupid properly. Somewhere in another protected room, Bakugo pretended not to ask. Somewhere beyond every lock, Ragdoll remained missing. Ren opened his hands over the blanket. Cool. Empty. His. For tonight, the boy who came had come back.

Not whole. Not safe. But back. And that was enough to keep both lines on the page.