Metallic Heart || BNHA Fanfiction

Forward (1)

(image belongs to me)

I'm gonna die. This is it. All the hard work I've put in is gone. Sorry. I'm so, so sorry. Will you please forgive me?

The sky was a sheet of gray when Adzumi Kanamori was born. Cumulus clouds rolled overhead, their dull color unseen by the couple overcome with happiness inside the pristine hospital. Their beloved daughter, only a few days early, clasped tightly within her mother's arms. 

"She's beautiful," a nurse whispers, her heart swelling with pride, for both the mother and herself; it was her first childbirth assistance, and a successful one at that. Adzumi waved her small hands, healthy lungs announcing to the world that she was here, finally, after nine months of waiting. The nurse turns to the mother, and she nods, relinquishing the squirming child from her grasp. 

"I'm sure she'll be perfect," the nurse smiles, assuring the exhausted woman, "you can hear the way she cries, can't you?"

"It's going to be a lot less quiet at home now, that's for sure." The husband says nothing, but holds onto his wife's hand, pale and clammy with sweat. He was still shaken up from seeing his wife in such pain. Maybe it'd be best if he stayed with her. 

Smiling even harder now, the nurse carries Adzumi through the hospital, beaming at colleagues that coo and grin at the little child before hustling off to their own patients. Rounding a corner, she arrives at the nursery. Nodding to a coworker exiting the round room, she scans her ID, and a robotic voice welcomes her in. The newborn in her arms has quieted down by now, content with the soothing noises of a bustling hospital. Methodically, as if being given instructions by an invisible doctor, the nurse finds an empty pod and places Adzumi down. A silver button is pressed, and she whispers softly, "Nurse A in nursery C. Can I request for assistance in taking a newborn's vitals? I need someone with more experience on standby." A short pause followed, then, 

"Yes, of course. That would be appropriate procedure. We'll send someone your way."

"Thank you."

A small knock sounded from the swinging double-doors, and a young man walked in, folding away his ID as he did so. Nurse A and the young man exchange silent greetings, then start the checkup wordlessly. The more efficient the better, yet their movements had to be gentle and precise. They started by taking Adzumi's weight, then measured around her small body, jotting down notes as they went. She was perfectly healthy, strong and stable. Nurse A paused, then jumped up in alarm. The young man beside her turned, confused, then realized their error. A small stethoscope lay untouched atop a nearby counter. Nurse A shook her head. What a rookie mistake to make! Though, her senior had overlooked it too- perhaps he thought she'd already recorded the newborn's heartbeat. Sighing, she took up the stethoscope and placed it upon Adzumi's chest. She knew the sound of a healthy heart, had memorized the rhythm of the body's drums, and could even estimate the BPM by ear. But as Adzumi's chest rose and fell, tiny lips and cheeks pink with life, her body remained silent.