22| Hold On

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The hospital lights flicker above you, and the lady at the front desk gasps when she sees you dragging Midoriya's body across the floor.

"Where's the emergency room?" You sob, wiping your face, "Where is it?"

She gasps. "Just stay here. I'll call in the H.H.H. and they'll help him."

In no more than a few minutes later, doctors rush in, and they take Midoriya from you. They're wearing special patches on their jackets, reading "H.H.H." and nothing else.

They take him away, and you can't protest. Everything hits you then when he's gone. The fight. The pain. The shock.

Falling to the ground, you wipe your tears, gasping. The lady at the desk runs to you, helping you up.

"Take deep breaths," she says softly, "you're safe here. He's safe."

You suck in a breath, exhaling slowly, sitting down in a cushioned chair. You look up at the secretary's sympathetic face.

She has jet-black hair and freckles, and eyes the color of the darkened sky. 

"I'm Mirai," she says, "are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?"

"I-I don't want to." You look away. Why isn't she surprised? Everyone thinks that Deku is dead. Shouldn't she be shocked?

"That's alright. It's not my job to ask questions," Mirai nods, "saying so, I won't ask how you managed to save the presumed-dead Symbol of Peace, though his grave is literally just two blocks from here."

You chuckle nervously. 

"It's fine. The H.H.H. is sworn to secrecy," the secretary tells you. "You don't have to talk unless you want to."

"What's the H.H.H.?" You ask, "Wouldn't you want to know how Deku's alive?"

 "We're the Hurt Hero Helpers. I know it's a cliché name, but that's what we do," she tells you, taking a seat, "we help hurt heroes. We're sworn to keep everything a secret, and we save those who save our citizens. Free of charge."

She smiles at you, and it makes you feel like you can tell her anything.

"H-He's definitely hurt," you say, "I don't know how, though. He just scraped himself. I couldn't heal him, though, so it must be something bad."

"You're a healer?" Mirai asks, "That's amazing."

"Yeah." You wipe your face again. The tears have stopped. 

Your body feels heavy like lead, and your limbs are numb. The day's events are wearing down on you.

"I-Is there any way I can take a nap?" You question, feeling how tired you really are. 

"Absolutely. Do whatever you need," Mirai tells you, gesturing to a couch, "make yourself at home."

"Thank you."




Your eyes flutter open, and you sit up on the couch in the waiting room. 

Right. You're in the hospital. 

Stretching, you stand up, looking around for Mirai.  She isn't at her desk.

"Mirai?" You call softly, "Hello?"

She comes from a back room, her forehead creased and her mouth turned down. "I'm afraid we have . . . some bad news."

Your heart rate speeds up as you follow her to the monitoring room, where a glass wall shows Midoriya laying on a hospital bed in an empty room. He's shirtless, and his abdomen is bandaged, but his breathing is forced. There's an oxygen mask on his face.

You gasp at the sight of him sickly and ragged. "Wh-What's wrong? What happened?"

"Well, we can't be sure," Mirai tells you, shaking her head slowly, "but it seems Midoriya is suffering from a mental disease known as PTSD."

"Post traumatic stress disorder?" You wonder aloud, pressing a hand to the glass that separates you from him.

"The pain caused by the injury triggered a response and sent his body into a panic," the secretary tells you, "as if he were back in the place where he experienced his trauma. An overload of emotion and adrenaline made him pass out."

"S-So he's not okay?" You stutter, tears threatening to spill once again, "So he's going to die? Is that what you're saying?"

Mirai places a hand on your shoulder. "No, no, he won't die. He's just . . . in a lot of pain right now. He thinks he's in danger again." 

"Come on!" You cry, "Come on, Izuku! You've survived this long!"

"Ma'am, please," she quiets you, "I know how you must be feeling, but shouting can't wake him up. We're going to try to figure out a way to help him, okay?"

"Okay." You sniff. "Just hold on, Deku. Hold on, please. I need you."

Midoriya just lays there, unmoving. His fingers twitch and his breathing is shaky; you can tell by the way his chest rises and falls, in the way his mouth stays open as if he's crying for help.

"Mirai, wait," you say to the secretary as she starts to leave the room, "I think I can heal him."

"I really don't think that would help," she tells you, "this is a mental disorder. His body is in a panic and his mind is bringing him back to his trauma. It'd be best to—"

"Please," you beg, "Please just let me try."

She sighs. "Alright. Please be careful."

"Always."




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