The ceiling would not stay still.
It moved above Izuku in long white pieces, each divided by a dark line.
A light passed over him.
Then another.
Then darkness.
Something rattled beneath his back.
Wheels.
He knew wheels.
Hospital beds had wheels.
Midnight was beside the hospital bed.
She had promised.
Izuku tried to turn his head.
His neck barely moved.
The world felt soft and far away, as though someone had wrapped everything in too many blankets.
His tongue was too large for his mouth.
When he tried to call Midnight’s name, only a wet little noise came out.
A woman leaned over him.
White clothing.
A nurse.
No.
Not a nurse.
Izuku remembered Midnight falling.
Her hand had slipped from the side of the bed.
Her eyes had been open, but she had not moved.
The woman in white had put something against Izuku’s arm while other people entered the room.
He tried to pull away.
His body did not listen.
“Keep him still,” someone said.
“He is still.” “Then stop talking to him.” A door opened.
Cold air touched Izuku’s face.
For one confused moment, he thought they had reached the hospital entrance and Auntie Mitsuki would be standing outside.
She would be angry.
She would shout at everyone.
Then she would pick him up and take him home.
The ceiling disappeared.
Above him was night.
It lasted only a second.
Then metal doors closed, and the darkness returned.
An engine started beneath him.
Izuku tried to move his legs.
Nothing happened.
His heart began beating faster, but even fear felt slow.
It had to crawl through the heavy medicine before it could reach the rest of him.
“Mmm…” He tried Midnight’s name again.
No one answered.
The vehicle moved.
Every turn rolled his head against the thin pillow.
Something held his arms close to his sides.
He could not tell whether they were straps or someone’s hands.
“Mum?” The word stayed inside his mouth.
He saw Inko outside the vehicle.
She was running beside him, green hair lifting around her face.
She looked through the metal wall as if it were made of glass.
Her mouth moved.
Run to Auntie.
Izuku tried.
His feet twitched.
His legs remained heavy and useless.
“I can’t,” he wanted to tell her.
The vehicle struck a bump.
The ceiling broke into shadows.
Inko disappeared.
Izuku fell after her.
When he woke again, there was no moving ceiling.
There was only a small, weak light.
It hung above him inside a metal cage.
The light made the bare walls look grey and damp.
There was no window.
A table stood beside the bed with bottles, folded cloth and a metal tray.
Izuku stared at it for a long time.
His thoughts came back one at a time.
Hospital.
Midnight.
The woman.
People lifting him.
The van.
He tried to sit.
Something pulled against his wrist.
The bed frame rattled.
Izuku froze.
A wide cuff circled his right wrist.
The inside was covered with soft padding, but the band beneath it was hard.
Another restraint held his left ankle.
He pulled once.
The metal bed made a sharp noise.
Izuku immediately stopped.
He listened.
Nothing moved beyond the closed door.
His breathing sounded too loud.
He pressed his lips together.
During the three days after Mum told him to run, noise had brought people.
Sometimes it had brought helpful people.
Sometimes it had brought people who asked too many questions or tried to grab him.
Then the heroes had found him.
They had brought him somewhere safe.
It had only been safe until the woman in white came.
Izuku looked towards the corner of the room.
A small dark circle sat near the ceiling.
It looked like the cameras in shops.
Someone might be watching.
He lowered his eyes.
“Midnight?” The whisper scraped his throat.
No answer came.
He waited.
Maybe she had not heard.
“Midnight?” Nothing.
He tried to remember how she had looked on the floor.
Her hair across her face.
Her body still.
The false nurse kneeling beside her, not helping.
Izuku’s eyes filled.
“Auntie?” The word shook.
The room remained empty.
He pulled his free knee towards his chest.
The restraint around his ankle stopped him before he could curl up properly.
“Mum?” He knew better.
He asked anyway.
The light buzzed above him.
His throat hurt.
His mouth tasted bitter.
The All Might shirt Mitsuki had packed for him clung damply to his skin.
All Might smiled across his chest.
The hero’s printed fist was raised.
Izuku covered it with his free hand.
“I’m here,” he whispered, because that was what All Might was supposed to say.
His voice did not sound like a hero’s.
A distant door opened.
Something heavy rolled across concrete.
Men spoke somewhere beyond the wall.
He could not understand their words.
An engine started and then stopped.
Water struck something metal.
Izuku tried the wrist cuff again, more gently this time.
It did not move.
He reached across with his free hand and touched the buckle.
There was no ordinary clasp.
He tried pushing beneath the padded edge with one fingernail.
The cuff tightened against his skin.
He stopped.
The silence grew larger around him.
He did not know how long he had been gone.
Maybe Auntie had reached the hospital.
Maybe Kacchan had asked where he was.
Maybe Midnight had woken up.
Maybe she thought he had left her.
The thought hurt worse than the restraint.
“I didn’t,” he whispered.
His eyes stayed on the door.
“I didn’t leave.” Footsteps entered the corridor.
They came closer.
One person.
The footsteps paused outside his room.
A lock turned.
The woman who entered was still wearing white trousers and soft hospital shoes.
Her jacket was gone.
So was the card that had said she was a nurse.
She carried a tray containing a cup of water, a sealed bowl and several small medical instruments.
Izuku recognised her face.
His body became so still that the bed stopped trembling.
The woman closed the door behind her.
She looked at the restraint around his wrist, then at his face.
“You are awake.” Izuku pulled his free arm across his chest.
She placed the tray on the table.
“You need to drink.” He said nothing.
The woman brought the cup towards him.
Izuku turned his face against the pillow.
“The sedative will have made your mouth dry.” He pressed his lips together.
“If you refuse water, you will feel worse.” She sounded like the real nurses.
That made it worse.
Real nurses had explained medicines before giving them.
They had told him when something might hurt.
One had found him a green plaster because the ordinary one made him cry.
This woman had worn the same clothes.
Then Midnight had fallen.
The cup touched Izuku’s lower lip.
He jerked away hard enough that the restraint snapped tight.
Water spilled onto the pillow.
The woman sighed.
“I am not sedating you again.” Izuku did not believe her.
She set the cup down.
When she reached towards his face, he raised his free hand over his eyes.
Her fingers stopped.
For several seconds, neither moved.
Then she caught his wrist and lowered it.
Her grip was not rough.
It did not need to be.
She held him still while shining a small light into each eye.
Izuku whimpered.
“Pupils responsive,” she said towards the camera.
“No apparent complications.” Someone was listening.
The woman touched two fingers to his throat.
She counted his heartbeat, then checked the skin beneath the restraint.
“The padding is holding.” Izuku did not know what that meant.
She adjusted the cuff.
He flinched so sharply that the metal frame shook.
The woman looked at him.
Not sorry.
Only interested.
“Where’s Midnight?” Izuku whispered.
“She is not here.” “Is she…” He could not finish.
The woman began opening the bowl.
“Is she dead?” The lid stopped.
For an instant, the woman seemed surprised.
Then her face became empty again.
“She is not here.” “That’s not…” His voice disappeared.
He swallowed.
“Is she coming?” The woman placed the bowl on the table.
“No one knows where you are.” Izuku stared at her.
The words took time to settle.
No one knew.
Auntie did.
Auntie always knew where Kacchan was.
She knew which park they went to and when nursery ended and where Mum kept the spare key.
“Auntie knows,” he whispered.
“Which auntie?” Izuku’s mouth closed.
The woman waited.
“Which auntie, Izuku?” He curled his free fingers into the All Might shirt.
The woman knew his name.
That frightened him too.
She stepped closer.
Izuku’s breathing sped up.
He did not answer.
The woman studied him, then placed the cup where his free hand could reach.
“The boss will want to know that you are awake.” At the door, she looked back.
“Eat something.” The lock closed behind her.
Izuku listened until her footsteps disappeared.
Then he looked at the water.
His throat hurt badly now.
He reached for the cup but stopped before touching it.
There might be more medicine inside.
He pulled his hand back.
Minutes passed.
Or hours.
Someone entered later and left a second bowl.
The first had gone cold.
Neither person spoke to him.
He did not eat.
Eventually he touched one finger to the water.
He brought the drop to his lips.
Then he waited.
The room did not spin.
His arms did not become heavier.
He tried another drop.
Then another.
At last he drank, taking small sips and stopping between each one.
The water tasted like plastic.
It still helped.
Outside the room, boxes scraped over the floor.
A door slammed.
Someone laughed.
A machine started with a low, constant vibration.
Izuku pulled at his wrist cuff when the corridor was quiet.
He pushed his thumb against the padding.
He tried twisting his hand sideways.
The cuff did not loosen.
He leaned towards it and tried to reach the buckle with his teeth.
The angle hurt his shoulder.
His mouth could not reach.
He lay back.
The All Might face on his shirt smiled up at him.
Auntie Mitsuki would come.
She would be angry enough to find anyone.
Kacchan would tell her which way to go.
Present Mic could shout louder than the walls.
Eraser Head could make bad Quirks stop.
Midnight had promised to stay.
Izuku’s throat tightened.
She had stayed.
That was why the woman had hurt her.
If Midnight had left, maybe she would not have fallen.
Maybe the people only took Izuku because she tried to keep him.
His eyes burned.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered towards the camera.
“I’m sorry they hurt you.” No one answered.
At some point, exhaustion pulled him into a shallow sleep.
He woke whenever footsteps passed.
He woke when a cart rolled through the corridor.
He woke when someone tested the lock without entering.
The next time it opened, three men entered with the false nurse behind them.
One carried smaller metal cuffs.
Another wore gloves.
“Time to move him,” the nurse said.
Izuku pulled against the bed.
The padded restraint held.
The gloved man reached for him.
Izuku became still.