They dressed Izuku in a thin hospital undershirt.
It was too large around the neck and too short at the wrists.
His All Might shirt did not return.
The false nurse cleaned the blood from his face, though some had dried beneath his nose.
Izuku flinched every time the cloth touched him.
She did not speak.
When she finished, the men lifted him again.
His wrists remained cuffed.
They carried him through more corridors, then down a short flight of metal stairs.
The smell changed.
Fuel became stronger.
So did rust and cold water.
Wind entered through an open loading door ahead.
Izuku looked towards it.
Night waited beyond.
He could see part of the river, black beneath the dock lights.
Boats moved against their ropes.
Containers stood in rows.
Outside.
For one instant, hope moved through him.
If they carried him close enough to the door, he could kick.
He could fall.
He could run to Auntie.
The man holding him tightened his grip.
Izuku became still again.
They did not take him through the open door.
They turned into a loading area beside it.
The metal box rested on a low platform.
It was longer than Izuku and not much wider than his shoulders.
The lid stood open.
Thick hinges ran along one side.
Rubber seals surrounded the rim.
Inside was dark padding, two straps and a small metal cylinder connected to a valve.
A man crouched beside the box with one hand pressed against its outer wall.
He held a dark metal disc between his fingers.
The disc gave a faint sound when he touched it to the container.
Not a ring.
More like a note Izuku felt through the floor.
The man closed his eyes.
“Marked.” Rampart stood behind him.
“You can track it?” “Within range.” “No mistakes.” The man opened his eyes.
“No mistakes.” Izuku did not understand.
He looked at the open box.
Then one of the men shifted him higher.
Izuku saw the straps inside.
He understood.
“No.” The man carrying him stepped towards the container.
Izuku twisted so violently that his shoulder slipped halfway from the man’s grip.
“No!” Another adult caught his legs.
Izuku kicked.
His heel struck someone’s arm.
The man cursed.
Izuku grabbed the edge of the container with both cuffed hands.
His fingers locked around the cold metal.
“Please!” They pulled.
He held on.
“Mum!” One man prised at his fingers.
Izuku screamed.
“Midnight!” His first finger came free.
Then the second.
“Auntie!” He kicked again.
“Kacchan!” Someone pinned his legs together.
“Present Mic!” Another finger was pulled from the rim.
“Eraser Head!” The false nurse stood beside the platform.
Izuku saw the white trousers.
The soft hospital shoes.
He reached towards her.
“Please.” She looked at the container instead of him.
“You’re a nurse,” Izuku sobbed.
Her mouth tightened.
For one moment, he thought she might help.
“Hold his arm,” she said.
The gloved man caught Izuku’s wrist.
The last of his fingers came free.
They lowered him into the container.
The padding was cold beneath his back.
Izuku arched and kicked.
His heel struck the wall.
The noise rang around him.
“No, no, no!” A strap crossed his waist.
Another crossed his chest.
His cuffed wrists were secured near his stomach.
He pulled until the metal cut into the padding beneath the cuffs.
“I won’t run!” The words came without thought.
Rampart watched from above.
Izuku twisted towards him.
“I promise!
I won’t run anymore!” Inko’s voice lived somewhere behind the panic.
Run to Auntie.
Izuku shook his head desperately.
“I won’t!
Please!” Rampart looked down into the container.
“That is the first sensible promise anyone has made tonight.” Izuku stared at him.
“You said I could be strong.” Rampart paused.
The sentence seemed to surprise him.
Izuku sobbed.
“You said nobody would hold me.” Something moved behind Rampart’s expression.
Not guilt.
Annoyance at being remembered accurately.
“You refused.” “Because you’re bad.” Rampart’s mouth hardened.
The lid began moving.
Izuku screamed.
The opening narrowed.
“Midnight!” He pulled one hand as far as the restraint allowed and pushed it through the gap.
Cold air touched his fingers.
“Midnight, please!” A man caught his wrist.
Izuku clung to the edge with two fingers.
The man peeled them away and pushed his hand back inside.
The last thing Izuku saw was Rampart’s face above him.
Beyond Rampart, the false nurse held the torn All Might shirt inside a clear evidence bag.
Then the lid closed.
Darkness struck all at once.
Metal locks engaged around him.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Izuku screamed.
He hit the lid with his cuffed hands.
“Let me out!” His voice crashed back against him.
“Please!” He kicked the wall.
The box rang.
Outside, the sound became a muffled thud.
Rampart rested one hand on the lid.
Izuku heard the pressure through the metal.
“Heroes always arrive,” Rampart said.
Izuku struck the lid again.
Rampart turned towards the transport crew.
“The important question is whether they arrive in time.” Machinery started.
The container shook.
Izuku screamed for Midnight until the word broke apart in his throat.
The box tilted.
Chains tightened around it.
He felt himself rising.
Then lowering.
Something struck beneath him.
An engine began vibrating through the metal.
Izuku could not see.
He could not tell whether he was moving forward or sideways.
Each turn pressed him against one wall.
Voices passed outside.
Too muffled to understand.
He called to them anyway.
“Please let me out.” Nobody answered.
The engine grew louder.
Then steady.
Water struck somewhere beyond the box in repeating waves.
Izuku cried.
He pulled at the restraints.
He kicked until his feet hurt.
He promised again not to run.
He promised to be quiet.
He promised not to tell anyone.
He said he was sorry about Daichi.
He asked for his shirt.
Nothing changed.
The journey lasted forever.
Then the engine slowed.
The container shifted.
Chains scraped across its outside.
Izuku stopped crying long enough to listen.
Machinery lifted him again.
The box swung.
His shoulder struck one wall.
“Please.” The word was almost gone.
Something released.
The container fell.
Izuku’s stomach rose into his throat.
He screamed.
The box struck water.
The impact threw him against the restraints.
A roar surrounded him.
Not rain.
Not a riverbank.
Water hit every side at once.
The container tipped and began sinking.
Izuku felt it in his stomach.
Down.
The metal groaned around him.
The air inside became colder.
He kicked the lid.
“Mum!” The pressure outside increased.
The box creaked.
Izuku understood that water was everywhere.
Above him.
Below him.
Around every wall.
There was no door.
No window.
No street.
No direction towards Auntie.
He screamed until his throat could no longer make the sound.
Izuku did not know when the crying stopped.
Maybe it had not stopped.
Maybe it had only become too quiet for him to hear.
His feet hurt.
His fingers hurt.
Everything felt heavy.
The dark had changed.
At first, it had been sharp.
It had hidden hands and walls and the lid he needed to open.
Now it felt soft.
Warm.
He knew the box was cold.
His cheek touched cold metal.
Still, he felt warm inside.
“Mum?” The name hardly made a sound.
Someone sat beside him.
There was no room.
Izuku knew that.
Mum sat there anyway.
Her shoulder touched his.
Her green hair brushed his cheek.
Stay awake.
“I’m awake.” His eyes were closed.
Opening them changed nothing.
Stay awake, baby.
“I’m trying.” He forgot what came next.
There had been someone else he wanted.
A loud person.
Headphones.
“Present…” His voice stopped.
Breathing hurt.
Each breath arrived smaller than the one before it.
He tried to take a deep one, but his chest could not find enough.
“Auntie.” He waited.
No answer.
“Kacchan.” He imagined Kacchan hitting the lid from outside and shouting at it to open.
The metal remained still.
“Midnight.” His mouth formed the name.
He could not hear it.
Maybe Midnight did not want him now.
She had promised to stay, and people had hurt her because of it.
Maybe she woke up and knew Izuku was gone and felt relieved.
The thought made him cry, but no tears came.
His body was too tired.
Run to Auntie.
Mum’s voice sounded farther away.
Izuku tried to move.
The restraints had loosened slightly after all the kicking, but his arms no longer had the strength to pull.
“I can’t run.” The coffin creaked.
Water pressed beyond it.
Keep trying.
“I did run, Mum.” His words came slowly.
“I ran lots.” Alleys returned in pieces.
Bare feet.
Rain.
A shop window.
Mum’s voice always behind him.
“I got lost.” He swallowed.
“I’m sorry.” Mum did not answer.
Her shape beside him began fading into the dark.
“Don’t go.” Izuku tried to reach for her.
His hand moved only a little.
“I’ll be good.” His fingers touched the wall.
Cold metal.
No Mum.
“I won’t make people get hurt.” His heartbeat felt strange.
Slow.
Then fast for two beats.
Then slow again.
Rampart had said heroes would fail again.
He had said people only helped when they wanted something.
Izuku tried to remember Midnight’s coat on the pavement.
Present Mic’s headphones.
Eraser Head standing between him and the detectives.
They had wanted something.
They had wanted him to be safe.
That was different.
He did not know how to explain why.
He only knew Rampart was wrong.
“They’re coming,” he whispered.
The dark gave no answer.
The remaining air tasted stale and hot.
“They keep trying.” His head sank against the padding.
He tried to call one more name.
“All…” All Might smiled somewhere on the shirt Rampart had taken.
Izuku’s next breath did not feel large enough to be called a breath.
His hand slid down the wall.
Mum’s voice had gone quiet.
Even the fear was disappearing.
Somewhere beneath thought, beneath memory and beneath the failing rhythm of his heart, something recognised that he was dying.
A bead of moisture moved across the inside of the coffin.
It travelled against the tilt of the metal.
Towards his fingertips.
The air near his mouth stirred.
The wall beneath his palm answered his heartbeat with a low, impossible vibration.
Outside, the ocean stopped moving.
Izuku’s eyes opened.
And the darkness turned white.