Preydator || Todoroki x OC

•4- Strange Boy•

We sit in silence as we wait for the doctor to arrive. I climb onto the examinaton bed, feeling the stiff paper crinkle underneath me. It seems as if it makes a mountain of sound loud enough for the whole hospital to hear.

"Are you going to take the mask off?" He asks me.

I shake my head. "Why should I? I injured my ankle, not my face." I reply.

"Fair point."

I shift awkwardly as silence dominates the room once again. The sound of the subtle clock ticking is the only thing I can hear. "This is a waste of time." I groan. "It'll heal on its own. I'm not weak."

"How did you get that injury anyway?" He asks.

"I fell off a roof." I state bluntly.

"What were you doing up there?"

"Walking to the grocery store." He shoots me a strange and questioning glance, as if I had grown two heads.

"Why were you walking to the grocery store...on a roof?"

"How else would I get there?" I retort in an obvious tone.

"The sidewalk." He responds as if it were common sense.

I roll my eyes. "Well, I was on a two-story building. I'd rather jump to a lower roof  than all the way to the concrete sidewalk."

He stares at me. "Why were you on a two-story building?"

"Could you ask any more questions?" I say, irritated. 'I was vandalising a brick wall.' I say in my head. "I do this all the time, don't worry about it."

An awkward silence enters the room once again. I clear my throat. "I really hope you aren't pitying me. Pity the weak."

"I'm not." he responds. "You don't seem weak to me in the slightest."

The door swings open, interrupting our awkward conversation. A male doctor wearing a standard white coat walks in. "Hello, how can I help you?"

I sit in silence as Todoroki does the talking. The doctor doesn't seemed surprised by my attire. 'He's probably seen worse.' I think as I imagine the wide variety of crazy people a doctor would see on the daily.

He examines my ankle. "It's sprianed all right." He mutters. He taps his head. "My quirk is x-ray vision. I run this hall for x-rays, bone and joint injuries." He explains. "You'll need to wear a cast for about five weeks."

"Five weeks?!" I exclaim. "Any chance we could shorten that?" 'I can't imagine being in a stupid cast for that long!'

"That all depends on your recovery." He replies.

I sigh. 'Godammit.'

-----

"These are so freaking annoying." I grumble as I lean my crutches against the tall, decorative brick wall dividing my vacant parking lot and park behind it.

I reach up and hoist myself on top of the wall. I take my mobility for granted. Scaling walls and hopping from rooftop to rooftop is a lot harder with one mobile leg. I sit on the wall, legs hanging over the edge. I examine the dark grey cast covering my right ankle.

A whoosh of cold air blows behind me and a familiar bi-haired boy plops down next to me. "How's your ankle?" He asks.

"Same old." I mutter. "You don't have to check up on me every day."

"But I came all the way to find you somewhere in this city. You should stop moving around everywhere." He huffs and ruffles his hair with a slender hand. "I have to take you back to get the cast removed later, anyway. I don't suppose you want to stay in this state."

"You've done enough already. You paid for my hospital bill and even bailed me out of that witness-thing for that robbery last week." I state. "You're wasting time on me. I can take care of myself."

"You're not a waste of time."

My eyes widen a bit at his response, but the mask hides my expression. I examine his clothes. He's dressed in a short-sleeved button-up shirt with turquoise accents, black slacks, and a red tie. 'He must have been at school.' I think and I turn my attention to the sunset-painted sky. The vibrant colours pleasing my eyes as they catch their rays of light.

"You're only keeping an eye on me for being a vandal, right?" I say, more of a statement than question.

He shrugs. "Maybe."

I roll my eyes at his ambiguous response. "It's none of your business what trouble I get into. I'm pretty good at taking care of myself." I say. "You don't have to pity me and become some Good Samaritan. You heroes are still human. You aren't some selfless, pure angel that's the pinnacle of society. All humans are fueled with sins, mistakes, impurities. You fool young children into believing you're all saints." I mutter. "Just because you're strong, you fool the weak into trusting you."

He doesn't reply and stares at me. His face is one of surprise, but he soon closes his eyes and flashes me a soft smile. "I know."

I hesitate, not expecting that response. I cock my head at him confusedly. "Why are you a hero if you agree with that?"

"I'm a hero because I agree with that." He gets up from his spot. "I'm going to surpass him and show him that real heroes aren't like him." He mutters under his breath, as if I wouldn't hear.

'Who is he talking about?' I wonder.

He gives me a soft glance. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow." He then jumps from the wall ledge and onto the soft grass.

A cool breeze blows by as I watch him walk off. He leaves a strange feeling with me. Confusion? Emptiness? I shake my head. 'What did he mean?' I get lost in my thoughts. 'He agrees with me, and that's why he's a hero?' I feel confused by him. I feel slightly enlightened by this new perspective, but I don't understand it at all.

I shake my head to clear my thoughts. 'Whatever. Who cares what he has to say? It's not like he's my friend or anything.' I sigh and get up, stretching. I hop down from the wall and grab my crutches before hobbling back home. 'What a strange boy.'