He guys took a bit longer on this chapter because I wanted to try and make it longer than the first two. Hope you like it.
Getting up from his stiff sitting position 13 quickly and efficiently got ready halfly, functioning on autopilot after another night of no sleep. The men behind the cameras wouldn't have it. 13 watched the holes in the walls, waiting for more darts to shoot out, but none came. Hearing the banging on his cell's door 13 stood, his posture stiff with his hands tucked over each other at the small of his back and his feet shoulder width apart. Not but 5 minutes after, a buzz is heard, and his door unlocks, allowing him to step through the port into the stark white hallway as every other day. Lined up along with the other four recruits left in his squad, they all turn in unison marching towards drill inspection. Walking along the upper levels, he lets his eyes stray to the platform below. His eyes deepen at the sight of the newest haul of kids being served a security meal before their trust is broken. He doesn't give himself the leisure to look more than a second before continuing to march.
A feeling that might come close to empathy and dread churns in his empty stomach for what he knows is in store for those kids. His straight face hardened into a hard frown, knowing there isn't anything he can do for them this time, but hope they don't lose their spark the way he has. Lost in his haunted thoughts of white hair growing rufescent by the second, as the little girl he fought so hard for bleeds in his hands. He's once again reminded of what heartache feels like. His memories are cut short with a soft stop, hitting the back of whoever was in front of him gratefully pulling him back to reality.
The boys trudge through hours of gruesome drills, running through the snow hungry and now soaking wet from their previous hose down for being late to their drill slot. 13 hid behind a wooden box, pulling his teammate with him. He sat contemplating what to do as he watched the other boy shiver from the cold. He watched as his lips turned blue and his hands rattle the BB gun as they shook. 13 could recognize the signs of hypothermia but didn't have any way to warm the other. He would give him his own vest. However, 13 knew he needed it, if not for protection against the painful volley of beads, then from the blasting of snow and sleet falling from the sky.
A bead shot at the back of their box, his cover had been blown. 13 looked back down at his teammates sunken in and bruised face. He saw the way he began struggling to breathe. They were all hungry and tired. It had been a while since any of them had a decent meal and a full night's rest. He knew this group of four wouldn't last that way unless the games ended. Just as it has been the week prior and the one before that another kid wouldn't show up to muster, 13 couldn't find it in him to care anymore, why wasn't he being affected by this? Another shot rang out, skimming his hair. Despite the biting numbness in 13's stiff joints, his reaction time isn't any less fast. He pops out of hiding, aiming to hit his enemy. Another bead is shot flying past his ear, and 13 takes a risk activating his quirk, looking for a specific blood vessel to aim for. Finding what he's looking for, his finger pulls the trigger. As the bead hits the cold worn flesh of his enemy, he bursts the vessel, rendering the poor boy's shoulder useless.
13 sat back down, taking his teammate's gun from him. If he was going to get past the enemy's front, he'll need the extra ammo. He got ready to leave hesitating in his movements. Maybe he was more affected than he originally thought? He knew he should leave his dying teammate, but something pulled at him to not. Maybe it's the way the boy's ash blond hair fell matted against his brow, something familiar flashed in his mind for a split second before it was forgotten again. He knew he'd get in trouble for it later, but it bothered him. He had to get this other boy warm. 13 powered up his quirk, forcing the boy's blood to circulate faster in attempts of warming him up while pulling his teammate over his shoulder in a fireman's carry and started to run. With the enemy at the front down for count 13 is able to run into their makeshift compound, he scans the place for their flag creeping along the walls before peaking into the first room of the bunker. His eyes scan for both people, cameras, and other exits, analyzing a plan in his head ready to use this boy as a shield if needed. Slowly crouching, he moves forward into the room, taking note of the puddles and avoiding them to make less noise. He activates his quirk once more, searching for other heat signatures nearby, concluding two others besides himself and the one on his back.
Crawling through a broken window, he enters a hallway, avoiding the people in the nearby room searching for a way in without directly confronting the enemy, knowing it's probably where they have their flag. Setting the body down, thinking it safer to continue alone, he hands his teammate his gun back, setting it in his lap when the boy doesn't reach for it. He sighs and starts down the hallway.
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Dropping down from an air vent, he tries his best to stay quiet with his landing. But luck was never on 13's side. He landed, splashing in a puddle alerting the enemy team. The two looked at each other tiredly. They didn't want to fight but broke out into one trying to apprehend him. An older girl ran at him, her hair weaving together, shooting out at him like arrows. He was just barely able to dodge the cold, finally getting to him, making him slower. He was just so tired. Why should he care so much about obtaining this stupid flag. They all knew these games were just another phase to their agenda. Nothing was going to stop or change after this, but they continued.
It was exhausting, 13 was both younger and smaller than his two opponents. However, he definitely had more experience than them. He was one of the original "patients" as they would like to tell you upon first arriving at the facility. Heaving deeply for air, he slowly lowered his hands, letting go of his control over the other two who fell unconscious after being under the effects of his quirk. 13 trudged over to the glowing green flag, grabbing it and turning towards the camera locking eyes with it sending the scariest glare he could muster before snapping the flags staff.
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Waking up was always a task, returning to the world groggily in a cold sweat, from one nightmare to the other. 13 found himself once again strapped to the table in the white room. He lay still making no attempt to move until he was ordered to. This time, however, was different. When he was unplugged from his machines, he was the only kid in the room. What had happened to the others? He was dazed. What was he doing here again? Who was he? Did he pass the training? These were all questions that roamed his brain as some officers stared at him from behind the glass while others chatted with themselves. One man in particular was let into the white room. He was tall and domineering with broad shoulders and a scar going up his strong jaw, but something was different. The man walked right up to 13 without any hesitance. He couldn't tell if the man was good or bad. His white unruly hair matched 13's own hair. 13 swung his legs over the bed slowly and attempted to stand at attention briefly, succeding before his legs gave out on him. The man caught him by his shoulders with a firm grip and frowned.
"Why this is no good, we need to get this boy something to eat. He's nothing but skin and bones. " The stranger held 13 up, softening his grip and eyes as he crouched down in front of him. 13 tried to resist his help, feeling an offness to this man's aura, but everything was hazy. He didn't feel like he had control over his boddy. It was like moving through Jello, and he was sure he'd pass out if he moved. So he let this man steady him. "What is your name, Cadet?"
"...Special devision, subject 13 Sir," the words took a while to come to his mind and rolled out like sticky honey on his toung, slow and robotic as he stared at the man blinking a few times trying to clear the blur surrounding his vision.
"Today you graduate, congratulations. I think a new name is needed, dont you think? 13 isn't really something you can go around outside with on your missions. How does Hibuki sound?" The question was obviously retorhical, and he didn't understand what the man meant by going outside or what the purpose of a different name was for. Was 13 no longer 13? Despite not knowing 13 answered with caution anyway.
“Yes Sir, if that is what I’m to be called…Outside? I will do my best, sir.” Apparently, this answer was funny because the man laughed. The laughter was marked rather than humorous, not that 13 knew what laughter was supposed to sound like. The man stood breathing fire to his grip, bringing his hand down his jaw past his neck back to his shoulder, spreading a searing white hot heat to his thin strestched skin. Tightening his grip when 13 tried to move away and just like that, the other shoe dropped, and the offsetting atmosphere made sense. The real struggle was only starting now. Whoever this guy was, he was going to make sure Hibuki understood.
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Author's Note:
So thoughts? Are you intrigued as to what's going to come next? What did graduating really mean and have in store for Hibuki next?
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Hold It In
FanficDisappearing after a tragic school incident. Izuku, a boy with a dangerous quirk, is forced to use it against his will by the government and is pushed past the limits of mental and physical stability. Programmed to follow the controls like a compute...
