The Bakugous reached the hospital beneath a sky the colour of old steel.
The unmarked car stopped at a side entrance rather than the main doors.
A security officer waited beneath the covered walkway.
Mitsuki climbed out before the driver fully applied the brake.
“I’m here for Izuku Midoriya.” The officer checked a list.
“There is no patient registered under that name.” “Present Mic sent us.” The officer touched his earpiece.
“Wait here.” “No.” “Mitsuki,” Masaru said.
“My best friend is dead.
Her four-year-old son has spent three days barefoot in the city, and I have been told he is one floor above me.
I am not waiting in a car park.” Katsuki climbed out carrying Izuku’s bag.
“Tell him hospital jelly is a menace.” The officer looked at him.
Katsuki lifted his chin.
“That’s the password.” The guard checked his earpiece again.
A voice answered.
The side door unlocked.
“Follow me.” They entered through a service corridor.
No reporters.
No police desk.
Only white walls, humming lights and a security camera turning above them.
Mitsuki hated every metre separating her from Izuku.
“How bad are his feet?” she asked.
The officer glanced back.
“I don’t know.” “Is he eating?” “I don’t know.” “Has he slept?” “I’m security.” “Then find someone useful.” Masaru placed a hand on her shoulder.
She shook it off, then reached back and took it.
The guard led them towards a lift.
A red light appeared above the doors.
“Ward restriction,” he said.
“What does that mean?” Mitsuki asked.
“Police representatives are currently inside the secure section.
We need clearance before allowing visitors.” Katsuki frowned.
“Deku doesn’t like police.” The guard pressed the call button.
No lift came.
Mitsuki looked through the narrow glass panel in the fire door.
Beyond it, another corridor stretched towards the private ward.
“He is there.” “Yes.” “Open it.” “I can’t.” “You can.” “I’m not authorised.” Mitsuki moved closer.
Masaru stepped between them.
“Arguing will not open the door.” “I can find another method.” “I know.” Katsuki placed the bag on the floor and removed the All Might figure.
“Can you give him this?” The guard looked down.
“We’ll be through shortly.” “That wasn’t my question.” The guard hesitated.
Then the first gunshot sounded.
The crack travelled through the hospital like a physical blow.
Mitsuki reacted before thought.
She grabbed Katsuki, dragged him to the floor and covered his head with both arms.
Masaru dropped over them.
A second shot came from somewhere above.
People screamed beyond the fire door.
A trolley overturned.
The hospital alarms began.
“Active shooter reported on level three,” a voice announced through the public-address system.
“All staff initiate lockdown procedures.” The security officer drew his weapon.
“Stay down.” Katsuki struggled beneath his mother.
“Deku!” “Do not move.” “He’s up there!” “I know.” A third gunshot echoed from another direction.
The guard spoke rapidly into his radio.
“Possible shooters on levels three and five.
Reports of an armed suspect near paediatrics.” Mitsuki’s blood turned cold.
“They are after him.” “We don’t know that,” Masaru said.
“Yes, we do.” She looked towards the locked door.
One corridor.
One security barrier.
Izuku was close enough that she could almost imagine hearing him.
Still unreachable.
Eraser Head and Present Mic heard the first gunshot while examining the detectives’ copied recording inside an administrative office.
Present Mic turned towards the sound.
“West side.” The second shot came from above them.
“Different level.” Eraser Head was already moving.
His training pulled him towards the greatest immediate threat.
An armed attack inside a hospital could kill dozens in minutes.
He reached the corridor and stopped.
Staff flooded from nearby offices.
A nurse shouted about a gunman near surgery.
Another insisted shots came from the pharmacy.
A security officer reported two suspects moving towards paediatrics.
No one had seen the same thing.
Present Mic looked towards the private ward.
“Midnight is with Izuku.” “One hero,” Eraser Head said.
“Against an unknown number.” A third shot echoed.
Screaming followed.
Eraser Head made the decision.
“Mic, take the western stairwell.
I’ll check paediatrics and the upper corridor.” “You’re sending me away from the kid?” “I’m sending you towards reports of civilians being shot.” Present Mic’s jaw tightened.
It was the kind of decision heroes made every day.
One protected person against an entire hospital.
One room against several floors.
Midnight could fight.
Izuku could not.
“Midnight stays with him,” Eraser Head said.
“We regroup in three minutes.” Present Mic nodded and ran.
Eraser Head moved towards the upper stairwell.
He reached the first reported location in less than a minute.
No shooter.
No victims.
One bullet hole marked the wall beside an empty treatment room.
He crouched.
The plaster was damaged, but there was no bullet.
Compressed air.
A Quirk imitating gunfire.
His earpiece crackled.
“Nothing west,” Present Mic said.
“Staff heard shots but saw no weapon.” A fourth crack came from below.
Eraser Head looked towards the private ward.
Too many sounds.
Too few injuries.
Conflicting sightings.
No confirmed attacker.
The pattern appeared.
“They’re pulling us away.” Present Mic stopped breathing for half a second.
“I’m going back.” “Now.” Eraser Head turned.
Fire doors slammed shut ahead of him.
The emergency lockdown sealed the corridor.
He struck the release panel.
Red light.
Denied.
“Mic?” “Same problem.” Eraser Head tore open the maintenance cover beneath the panel.
Someone had overridden the system from inside.
Not random panic.
Preparation.
“They knew exactly how we would respond,” he said.
Present Mic’s voice lost all brightness.
“Midnight.” Both men began forcing their way back.
In the side corridor, Mitsuki heard the gunfire stop.
No further shots.
No attacker crossed the hall.
The alarm continued despite the sudden quiet.
The security officer frowned at his radio.
“No confirmed casualties.” Mitsuki rose.
“Open the door.” “We are still in lockdown.” “There are no shooters.” “We don’t know that.” “They wanted everyone looking somewhere else.” The guard stared at her.
Masaru understood first.
“Izuku.” Mitsuki seized the emergency bar and pulled.
Locked.
She slammed her palm against the glass.
“Open this door!” Katsuki stood beside her, clutching the All Might figure.
“Auntie Midnight is with him.” “One person,” Mitsuki said.
The same calculation the heroes had made.
One hero should have been enough.
The sentence felt false before it finished forming.
Present Mic appeared beyond the glass at the far end of the corridor.
He was running.
His expression told Mitsuki everything.
She struck the door again.
“Get me through!” Present Mic reached the opposite side and hit the release.
Nothing happened.
Eraser Head’s voice came through his earpiece.
“Service passage.
Thirty metres east.” Present Mic turned.
Mitsuki followed on her side of the barrier, separated from him by glass and locked doors.
Katsuki ran behind her.
The bag bounced against his shoulder.
No one told him to slow down.
In Izuku Room Midnight heard the first gunshot while Izuku was still holding her jumper.
His entire body locked.
She pulled him closer and lowered both of them behind the raised side of the bed.
“Down.” The second shot followed.
The hospital alarm began.
Izuku pressed his hands over his ears.
“They’re here.” “We don’t know that.” “They found me.” Midnight looked towards the door.
Eraser Head and Present Mic had left only minutes earlier to secure the detectives’ recording and investigate the leaked information.
She was alone with Izuku because someone had to remain.
That had been the correct decision.
It still felt suddenly insufficient.
A voice announced an active shooter on the lower floors.
Running footsteps filled the corridor.
A nurse shouted for patients to remain inside their rooms.
Midnight reached for her telephone.
No signal.
The hospital network had been overwhelmed or deliberately jammed.
She moved Izuku away from the window.
“I need you to listen to me.” His eyes found hers.
“I’m staying.” “All three promised.” “I know.” “They left.” “To protect the hospital.” “You said you’d stay.” “I’m here.” A third gunshot echoed.
Izuku flinched violently.
Midnight pulled Present Mic’s headphones over his ears.
The door opened.
She spun.
A nurse stood in the entrance.
Pale scrubs.
Dark hair beneath a cap.
An identification badge clipped to her chest.
She carried a medical tray and a portable monitor.
“What are you doing?” Midnight demanded.
“Emergency evacuation.
We’re moving vulnerable patients away from the exterior corridor.” “No.” “There may be an active shooter.” “This room is secured.” “Level command ordered evacuation.” “Who gave the order?” “Dr Ishikawa.” The name was correct.
That proved little.
The nurse stepped inside.
“I need to disconnect the child’s IV.” “Stay there.” The woman stopped.
Midnight examined her.
Correct shoes.
Correct badge colour.
Correct equipment.
The portable monitor displayed Izuku’s temporary hospital identity.
Too correct.
“Put the tray down,” Midnight said.
The nurse obeyed.
“Turn around.” Izuku clung to Midnight’s sleeve.
The woman slowly turned.
No visible weapon.
No radio.
“Who is stationed outside this ward?” Midnight asked.
“I don’t know.
Security was redirected after the shooting.” “You came through a locked section without knowing who was guarding it?” “Emergency procedures are breaking down.” “Leave.” “I need to stabilise his IV before evacuation.” “We are not evacuating.” The portable monitor suddenly alarmed.
A rapid tone.
Izuku’s heart rate appeared across the screen, rising sharply.
Midnight looked towards the actual monitor beside the bed.
Its display remained stable.
The nurse moved.
Midnight caught her wrist before she reached the IV.
The tray crashed to the floor.
A syringe rolled beneath the bed.
The woman twisted with trained precision and drove her shoulder into Midnight’s chest.
Midnight absorbed the impact and threw her against the wall.
The false nurse struck hard enough to crack the plaster.
She smiled through the pain.
“You are more observant than they expected.” Midnight activated her Quirk.
Purple vapour gathered around her skin.
The ward ventilation system roared to life.
Air pulled the gas upwards through the ceiling vents.
Sabotaged.
Midnight crossed the room and struck the woman before she could recover.
The blow turned her head.
Midnight caught her by the front of the scrubs.
“What did you do to the ventilation?” “Prepared.” The woman produced a compact injector from her sleeve.
Midnight saw it.
She trapped the attacker’s wrist.
They struggled.
The false nurse drove her knee into Midnight’s side.
Midnight maintained her grip.
The injector slipped between them.
A sharp sting entered her upper arm.
Midnight threw the woman away.
The injector remained embedded for half a second before falling.
“No.” Her fingers became numb almost immediately.
Not weak.
Delayed.
Every instruction from her mind seemed forced to travel through deep water before reaching her limbs.
The false nurse wiped blood from her mouth.
“Fast-acting.” Midnight placed herself between the attacker and Izuku.
“What did you give me?” “Enough.” The door opened again.
Two men entered wearing hospital transport uniforms.
A stretcher waited outside.
Midnight lunged.
Her knee buckled.
She caught the bed frame.
One man approached Izuku.
Midnight struck him across the jaw.
The blow lacked its usual force, but it drove him back.
The second caught her around the waist.
She drove her elbow behind her.
He grunted.
Midnight twisted free and reached for Izuku.
The false nurse intercepted her.
A second blow struck Midnight’s ribs.
She fell against the wall.
Izuku screamed.
“Stop hurting her!” He pulled the headphones off and threw them.
They struck one man’s shoulder.
He barely noticed.
Izuku tried to climb from the bed.
Pain tore through his injured feet.
He collapsed onto his knees.
Midnight forced herself upright.
“Stay behind me.” Her speech had begun to slur.
The false nurse picked up another syringe.
Midnight saw her moving towards the IV.
“No.” She crossed the space between them and seized the woman’s wrist.
Her vision blurred.
The room doubled.
For several seconds, she held on through will alone.
Then her grip failed.
The false nurse pushed the needle into the IV port.
Clear liquid entered the line.
Izuku watched it travel towards his hand.
“What is that?” Midnight dragged herself across the floor.
“Pull the line.” Izuku grabbed the tube.
His fingers shook.
Before he could remove it, coldness entered his arm.
His body became heavy.
He pulled harder.
The tape tore partway.
One of the transport workers caught him beneath the arms.
Izuku kicked.
His bandaged feet struck the metal bed frame.
Pain flashed through him.
“Let go!” “The boss wants him undamaged,” the man said.
“Then keep him still.” Izuku twisted desperately.
The sedative spread.
His arms weakened.
The man lifted him onto the stretcher.
Midnight reached them.
Her fingers closed around the worker’s trouser leg.
He kicked free.
She fell onto her side.
“Izuku.” He looked towards her.
She lay beside the bed with one arm extended across the floor.
Her eyes would not remain open.
“You said you’d stay,” he cried.
The words entered her like a blade.
“I’m sorry.” The false nurse secured the stretcher straps.
Izuku tried to lift his head.
Present Mic’s headphones lay on the floor.
The apple juice remained unopened.
Auntie Mitsuki was somewhere inside the building.
Close.
Too late.
“Mum told me to run.” His voice had become faint.
Midnight pulled herself forward another centimetre.
“You ran.” “I can’t.” “I know.” The stretcher moved into the corridor.
Izuku’s eyes fixed on Midnight until the doorway carried her out of sight.
The false nurse stepped over Midnight.
“Not everyone who stays can protect you.” The door closed.
Midnight heard wheels moving away.
Then the world went dark.
Present Mic reached the private ward first.
The door stood open.
That frightened him more than finding it locked.
He entered.
The bed was empty.
A bowl lay shattered across the floor.
The IV line had been torn and left hanging.
His headphones rested near the wall.
Midnight lay beside the bed.
Present Mic dropped next to her.
“Nemuri.” He found her pulse.
Slow.
Present.
Her eyelids moved.
“Taken.” The word barely carried sound.
Present Mic looked towards the corridor.
No stretcher.
No suspicious staff.
Only frightened nurses emerging now that the gunfire had stopped.
Eraser Head arrived through the service passage.
He took in the room in one sweep.
Empty bed.
Discarded syringe.
Damaged ventilation panel.
Puncture wound in Midnight’s arm.
Present Mic kneeling on the floor.
“We left him,” Present Mic said.
Eraser Head did not answer.
“We promised him.” Midnight tried to move.
“He asked me to stay.” Present Mic gripped her hand.
“You did.” “I failed.” “No.” The denial came too quickly to contain truth.
Footsteps thundered through the corridor.
Mitsuki appeared in the doorway.
Masaru followed with Katsuki.
The boy carried Izuku’s bag and the All Might figure.
Mitsuki looked at the empty bed.
Then at Midnight.
Then at the three heroes.
“Where is he?” No one answered.
Katsuki moved around his mother.
“Deku?” The small name travelled through the room.
He placed the All Might figure on the bed.
Then the cardboard shield.
Then Izuku’s notebook.
“He needs these.” Masaru closed his eyes.
Mitsuki crossed the room and seized the front of Eraser Head’s shirt.
“You told us he was protected.” “I was wrong.” No excuse.
No defence.
Only failure.
The honesty stopped her from striking him.
Her hands began shaking.
“You left him.” “Yes.” “To chase noises.” “Yes.” “You knew someone was after him.” “Yes.” Present Mic looked towards the floor.
“We thought civilians were being shot.” Mitsuki turned on him.
“And now?” “No casualties,” he said.
“The shots were staged.” “They knew you would run.” Eraser Head looked at the empty bed.
The decisions that had brought them there arranged themselves with merciless clarity.
The detectives had attacked Izuku’s testimony, so he had focused on the corrupted investigation.
Gunfire had threatened an entire hospital, so he and Present Mic had followed it.
They had left one hero behind because one hero should have been enough.
Rampart had not overpowered them.
He had studied them.
He had understood that heroes ran towards the largest visible danger.
Then he had placed the real threat somewhere quiet.
“He knew exactly which direction we would run,” Eraser Head said.
Katsuki looked up from the empty bed.
His eyes were wet, but his voice was furious.
“Then run the other way.” Everyone looked at him.
“Find Deku.” Silence followed.
Not the empty silence Rampart had created.
Something harder.
A decision.
Eraser Head removed the hospital security badge from around his neck and placed it on the table.
“No more shared police channels.” Present Mic picked up his headphones.
“No official dispatch.” Mitsuki released Eraser Head’s shirt.
“You are not leaving us behind.” “This will be dangerous.” “My best friend died.
My nephew has been taken twice.
You have used up your right to tell me to wait somewhere safe.” Masaru stood beside her.
“We need to know what you find.” Eraser Head looked towards Katsuki.
The child sat beside Izuku’s belongings, one hand gripping the edge of the blanket.
“This is not a family investigation,” Eraser Head said.
Mitsuki’s expression became cold.
“It became one when Rampart killed Inko.” Midnight stirred on the floor.
Her eyes opened by a fraction.
“Find him.” Present Mic crouched beside her.
“We will.” “Do not promise unless you mean it.” The words came slowly.
Izuku had heard too many promises.
Safe.
Stay.
Never.
Words had broken every time he placed weight upon them.
Eraser Head looked at the empty bed.
He would not promise that they would succeed.
He would not promise that Izuku was unharmed.
He would not offer comfort he could not guarantee.
“We begin now,” he said.
Outside, the hospital alarms continued flashing without sound.
The gunmen had vanished.
The corrupt detectives had disappeared.
The false nurse had carried Izuku through a building full of heroes, police and cameras without leaving a useful name.
Rampart had once again hidden behind the system built to protect people.
This time, the people standing around the empty bed understood the shape of the battle.
They were not searching only for a kidnapped child.
They were fighting an enemy who wore heroism as armour.
Katsuki placed Izuku’s notebook beside the All Might figure.
The bed remained empty.
But the family gathered around it did not leave.