Maigo- A BNHA OC Story

The Gauntlet

   This chapter takes place in a hospital and depicts surgical prep, such as anesthesia. Maigo experiences panic due to her past experiences, and it is written from her point of view so there will be some explicit descriptions.

   Please skip this chapter if you feel uncomfortable or if you have an issue with the above information.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

   It should be impossible for the girl to have so much energy.

   Not that Shota expects anything less the night before the surgery, but he is surprised that not even extra-strength-but-still-child-friendly melatonin could even make her close her eyes for more than a minute.

And yet, even after being awake for what Shota is sure more than 24 hours, Maigo still finds it in herself to run laps around the table in the common room so fast even Iida can't keep up. She probably disappears into the bathroom five times before Shota can even get himself dressed. Once he shoves his boots on and grabs his dorm key off the night stand, Shota makes his way out of his room, only to be greeted by a squirming Maigo held aloft in the air, somewhere close to two inches from his face.

"I found her trying to crawl out the window," Kirishima reports. His spiky red hair pokes out from behind the girl in his arms. "I figured she isn't supposed to be doing that."

Shota takes Maigo from his red-haired student. "She most definitely is not, thank you."

As the two of them make their way out the door, they hear a sharp honk! of a horn. Hizashi waves the dark-haired man over from his car. "Y'all ready to rock and roll?"

Maigo shakes her head frantically. She starts whimpering and squirming even harder in Shota's grip. He heaved a sigh strides over to the car, placing the small girl in the backseat. "We'll have time to calm down on the ride over."

She grabs on to his shirt and yanks it close to her. Shota jerks his head back, almost colliding with the roof of the car. He is only stopped short by the sheer strength of Maigo's grip. The more Shota tries to pull away, the stronger the girl's grip gets until Shota can practically feel his shirt coming off. Maigo is now kicking and screaming in the backseat, tears streaming down her reddened face.

   "You'd think she's dying," Hizashi exclaims. How he manages to practically materialize next to Shota, the latter has no idea. Then again, it could have something to do with the screaming child he is trying to wrestle himself away from.

   Hizashi turns toward Shota. His eyes are wide and full of silent panic. "You should probably sit in the back."

—————————————————————————

   She hates this.

   She hates how white everything is. She hates the beeping of the machines. She hates the stinging stench of the hand sanitizer. She hates the people in the white coats. She hates the blue gown they made her change into. She hates the bed she's sitting on.

   She. Hates. This.

   They've already taken her clothes away, giving her that thin gown to wear instead. They've already hooked her up to machines that squeeze her arms and poke at her. They've already stuck a needle in her arm, although she made sure to give them all a few bruises in exchange. What more could they possibly do to her?

   "Alright," a nurse says. "We're just about ready!"

   All the blood drains from her face. Her whole body starts shaking. It can't be time yet. There still should be more that they have to do, right? She still has time, right?

   She's vaguely aware of someone placing her onto the huge bed in the center of the room. Her heart is in her throat, her pulse throbbing in her ears. Someone reaches over and connects a tube to her arm. She can feel something cold enter her veins.

   "We're ready to start counting down when you are."

   No. She is not ready. Not now, not ever. No. No. No. No. No. No. No-

   There are hands on her shoulders. They rub soft circles into her arms. She cracks her eyes open, just a tiny bit. Green eyes stare back at her.

   "It's okay," Hizashi's voice is barely above a whisper. He has a wobbly smile plastered on his face. "It's okay."

   Maigo whips her head around. Shota is standing in the corner. His eyes are glowing red, and his hair is floating around him. He walks over to her, never blinking, never breaking eye contact. When he reaches the bed, he sits down and folds her hand into his own. "You're just going to sleep."

   And when she wakes up she'll be different.

    "When you wake up, you'll be back in this room."

   When she wakes up, someone will have already done something to her. She'll be cut open again, and she won't be able to stop it.

"I'll be here."

She'll be alone. They'll take him away and he'll never come back.

   "I'm not leaving."

   Time somehow freezes. "I'm not leaving." So she won't be alone again? They won't take him away? She holds a shaking index finger up to her lips, like she is shushing someone. Then she pulls it away, opening her hand and splaying her fingers out before smacking it on her other fist in one fluid motion. "Promise?"

   Shota's eyes fade back to their usual black. His hair falls back around his face. He still does not break eye contact. "I promise."

   It is enough. She squares her shoulders and lets out a huff. Her Uncle 'Zashi gingerly nudges two of his fingers into her hand. "You can squeeze if you need to."

   "We'll count down together," Shota murmurs, taking her other hand and crouching beside the bed. "And when you wake up you'll be back in this room, and the worst part will be all over."

   She nods her head. Her body is tense, every single muscle fiber pulled tight like a bowstring. Her eyes are trained on her knees underneath the sheets. She isn't ready, but she knows it has to be now.

   "Ten," Shota begins.

   "Nine."

   "Eight."

   "Seven..."

   "Six....."

   "......fiv......."

   "....or......."

   "........ree......"

   ".....oo....."

—————————————————————————

   "One." He doesn't need to finish counting. She was out by "four."

   His knees shake as he tries to stand back up. He watches as the nurses wheel her out the door. He watches as they wheel her down the hall and through the double doors.

   To the operating room.

   A hand on his back startles him. When did I sit down?

   "She'll be okay," Hizashi's voice cracks on every single syllable.

   Shota's "I know" in response is barely audible.

   They sit there, barely noticing their shoulders touching, their heads leaning on each other in silent support.