Compulsion

Chapter 20: What's Past is Prologue

Should he feel disappointed?

His left hand was wrapped up in a cast, resting on a stand. What's life supposed to be like after all this? He felt tight binds constricting against his movement as he tried to sit up. It was so nice... It's over now... He had to go back... His blanket fell, revealing a hospital gown; which was in line with the surrounding hospital room. What was he supposed to do now? A room that flashed in his mind, at least a dozen times. Which left him unsure if he was ever actually awake or in just some strange dream... Maybe... Maybe none of this was real... He blinked, movement catching his eye. Like some fading synapse firing off one last time... It was a bellowing curtain, flapping after a gust of wind. Would that be better or worse? After the wind weakened, the curtain began to fall.

There was a man standing in the corner of his room.

His eyes darted around himself, sifting for something. He was a hand down and surrounded by heavy equipment. Nothing he could use; nothing he could do—Maybe none of this is real... Izuku stopped, a sense of calm washing over him. The adrenaline spiking his veins weakened and dissipated as his gaze slowly drifted back to the corner. He was tall and lanky, muscle protruding from bone. Face; flat, only defined by the folds and wrinkles of a white bandanna. A red, dirtied scarf hung from his neck, settling just like the curtain before him. His black top and pants were stained with dried blood—his blood.

With a voice, deep and guttural, "You're... alive..." he said with a smile too wide for his face.

"Hey! Did anyone check this—" a feminine voice, laced with concern and panic, swung in with rushed steps. Izuku's eyes swung to see the nurse rush in, only to see her fall to the ground—eyes nearly popping out of her skull. A screech of horror ripped through the room, echoing off the walls and ringing louder. His gaze snapped back to the figure, only catching the trailing wisps of a white bandanna and a red scarf. The woman's scream brought others and more. She was pointing at the window, "W-We're..." She swallowed, "We're on the thirtieth floor!"

Another nurse, male, stepped further into the room, crunching the shattered glass on the floor, "W-What... the hell?" He kept his eyes on the window, waving his hand at Izuku, "Are—Are you okay?" The nurse finally turned their head, "Did they hurt you?" Their look of fear and concern shifted, turning bewildered.

Because, while not large or wide, Midoriya Izuku was smiling.

-XXX-

Kaminari Denki played with the phone in his hands. It wasn't his; it was Midoriya's. Weird to keep, he knew that much. Turned out he was forgetful. He took it from the locker room, left it in his pocket, and forgot to hand it over. Because of course he did. Of course, he'd make the same damn mistake that led to this mess. His blood boiled and irritation pulsed throughout his body.

"Your friend is in the hospital," was what the police officer said. They had arrived that day to question them: teachers, heroes, and himself. "How did Midoriya get off of school grounds?" "Who was meant to be watching him?" "Who allowed this to happen?" "Why did he leave school grounds in the first place?" Of his own volition. Dr. Yaritezawa. Everyone. Denki forgot the stupid-ass gauntlet.

When Denki ousted himself as Midoriya's why, the teachers kept a close eye on him. He was a technical accomplice to Midoriya' escape, after all. Not to mention, he took school equipment – dangerous equipment off school grounds. And in the end, instead of owning up to a teacher about his mistake, he let Midoriya, who was already injured, rush off to go get it for him.