Quirks and magic

Chapter 2: Crushed Hands, Crushed Dreams

Darkness and warmth were not typically things Izuku would correlate with one another, yet the waves of warmth that washed over his body, inundating him with a serene sense of calmness, had not waned in the slightest as he drifted through sleep.

The gentleman, the tunic, the red cloak capturing his body in such a gentle embrace—those were the last things he saw before darkness once again robbed his senses. Well, his normal senses, anyway; Izuku could hardly explain it even as he was set adrift among the Aether of his own unconsciousness, but he could still feel that cloak wrapped loosely around his drenched form and the comforting heat that seemed to literally pulse out of its fibers.

And further beyond the gentle radiance of the cloak was the other sensation he had detected before his mind slipped away: that of being lifted off the sludgy riverbank by the gentleman he had caught a glimpse of.

Or was it the cloak? Now that he thought about it, it had seemed like the blue-robed gentleman and the red cloak were almost like two different entities. Did that cloak belong to a second individual? Had someone else besides the gentleman slipped down into the ravine to fetch his exhausted body without Izuku even noticing them or their features?

A sudden shift in sensations forced Izuku to file that thought away for the time being. The shift rippled all through the darkness he was floating in—what was happening? The feeling of being lifted had ceased, and now he was...sinking? The last thing he had felt against his backside before the heat was the slick mud of the riverbank, but now his back was being pressed against what had to be a cushion of some kind. He was sinking into it, but not to the point where Izuku feared falling into it entirely.

And speaking of the heat of the cloak that had undoubtedly saved him...that, too, had dissipated.

Izuku despaired and imagined himself reaching out into the abyss, hoping that it was not totally beyond his grasp, but there was no vestige of heat left to be felt.

And then...a stirring. And Izuku finally opened his eyes.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Where there was once a safe cocoon of darkness surrounding him, Izuku now found himself blinking helplessly beneath a white light: blinding, intense, and invasive.

What...? Izuku thought as his eyes reoriented themselves, his vision no longer obstructed by the muddied muck of the river. Where am I?

The glare of the light faded as his eyes became more adjusted with each blink: he was in a hospital room. The white walls, ceiling, floor, and bed were probably what made the light of the room so initially blinding.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Izuku tilted his head toward the sound. An EKG monitor was to the right of his bed, beeping in tandem with his pulse, causing Izuku to be grimly aware of the wires and tubes connected to his body; thankfully, his mouth was clear. A television was mounted on the wall before him, and a few posters of doctors and health-related phrases dotted the walls here and there. It didn't make the room seem any less blindingly white, though.

"Ah, so you awake at last." Izuku nearly jolted at the gruff voice that spoke to his left.

Wait, that voice! Izuku snapped his head in the voice's direction, eyes widening in shock at the man that sat beside him: blue tunic, red cloak draped over the hospital chair, the meticulously trimmed goatee, the combed, well-kept hair—this was without a doubt the man he had seen after washing up on the riverbank.

"Y-you saved me!" Izuku sputtered as he tried sitting up in his bed, though his body's muscles protested with great pain and a well of newfound tears threatened to spill forth.