Fractured Wings

The fluorescent lights hummed above softly. Ochaco Uraraka sat on the edge of a plastic chair, her fingers tightly interlocked, the tips pressing into her palms. Her heart pounded as if trying to escape her chest. 

They just had to rush Crust as well as Midoriya to the emergency room, they didn't expect for there to be any actual medical staff around, but they got lucky and were grateful that there were some. 

On Crust, there had been so much blood. 

Her thoughts were cycling through hope and dread. "They're strong," she whispered to herself, her voice trembling. "Midoriya is strong. Crust is the shield hero. He'll be okay." 

She bit her lip, willing to stay composed. The uncertainty gnawed at her, a relentless ache in her chest. The league had vanished. And now she felt so powerless to do anything but wait. 

"Hey," a voice broke the silence, drawing her attention. She turned to see a lanky boy with a slight smirk on his face. His neck stretched slightly in jest as he craned his neck toward her. He plopped into the seat beside her with a casual air, his long neck bobbing slightly as he leaned closer. 

"You're here for that green haired guy right?" he asked, his tone light and conversational. "I saw them bring him in. I thought I recognized him. Izuku Midoriya. Man. I can't believe he's actually a hero now." 

Uraraka frowned but didn't respond, unsure of what was going on. The boy's grin widened, clearly taking her silence as an invitation to continue. 

"I knew him back in junior high, Aldera." he said, puffing his chest out slightly as if that piece of information was somehow impressive. "He was... well, lets say, he wasn't exactly hero material back then. Dude didn't even have a quirk, you know? Quirkless and still tryna play hero. It was pathetic." 

Uraraka's fingers tightened around the fabric of her skirt, her knuckles turning white. The boy didn't notice. 

"We used to call him Deku," he went on laughing softly. "cause he was useless." he chuckled again, his head bobbing as he laughed. "Man, Bakugou and our group of friends used to give him so much crap. We even told him he should just... you know," he showed off with his hands by putting his fingers in gun motion and putting them in his mouth and tilting his head back as the shooting effect followed. "...we didn't really mean it of course. He was just so... ugh, you know? Always trying so hard for no reason." 

Uraraka's chest tightened, and she fought the sting of tears threatening to spill over. Her nails dug into her palms, the pain grounding her as she listened to this strangers cruelty. The boy leaned back, clearly pleased with himself as he continued his rambling. 

"...there was also that kid Kobe from elementary... Midoriya sure knew how to attract a crowd." 

Uraraka dismissed what he was saying. 

The clear wickedness couldn't just be chalked down to childhood cruelty. His smirk, his nonchalant tone, his utter lack of awareness, it all boiled over into a storm of anger and sorrow. She stood abruptly, the legs of her chair scraping loudly against the floor. The boy blinked up at her, startled. 

"What's your problem?" he asked her, his tone defensive now. 

Uraraka's voice trembled as she finally spoke, her words cutting through the air like a blade. "Do you even hear yourself? Do you realize what you're saying? You think this is funny? Impressive? That bullying someone to the point of telling them to take their own life is some kind of achievement?" 

The boys mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. Uraraka's eyes burned with unshed tears, but she refused to let them fall... not yet. 

"You're sitting here mocking him, calling him useless, but do you even understand what he's done? Everything he has sacrificed to make it to this point. Midoriya is more of a hero, more of a man, than you could ever hope to be. And all you are is a bully with nothing to offer but cruelty." 

Her voice cracked on the last word, and she turned away, her footsteps echoing as she stormed out of the waiting area. The boy sat frozen, his elongated neck retracting slightly as he processed her words. 

Tears streamed down her face as she walked, her vision blurred. She couldn't stop thinking about Midoriya, about the weight he carried, the kindness he still showed despite everything. And then there was Bakugou. The thought of him being a part of this, of him contributing to the pain Midoriya had endured... it twisted her heart into knots. 

It wasn't even that surprising considering the type of person he has shown himself to be since school had started, as well as his one sided anger towards Midoriya. 

And who was Kobe? What type of role did he play? Is he a hero student? 

If not then he was just another bully like the other guy and could be left in the past to be forgotten. But Bakugou, he was striving to be a hero, or at least supposed to. But no hero would ever act like that. 

She wiped her eyes furiously, a new resolve forming in her chest. She'd talk to Midoriya when he woke up. She'd stop calling him Deku, not if it came from a place of pain. He deserved to be called by his real name, the name of a hero. Izuku Midoriya. 

***

The announcement of Crust's death hit like a thunderclap. 

No one spoke. No one moved. The weight of those words pressed down on them all, suffocating. 

Crust, the shield hero, was dead. 

Ochaco's breath hitched, her chest rising and falling unevenly. Her hand flew to her mouth as if to stifle a cry that still clawed it's way out. It was soft and broken, but it reverberated in the silence. Beside her Iida stood stone still, his hands clenched tightly on his knees, the sharp angles of his jawline taut with tension. A lump formed in his throat, but his training, his discipline kept him from breaking. 

Todoroki stared at the floor, his heterochromatic eyes duller than usual. His hand flexed at his side, unconscious tick, but his expression betrayed betrayed little, save for the feint tremor of his lips. 

The rest of the room, all looked solemn. He was the only adult with them, a hero who could continue guiding them in place of their teacher's who were not with them in this moment. The silence was fragile. 

Midoriya stood in the center of the room, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles were white. He hadn't said a word since the announcement. He'd barely moved. Bloodshot eyes stared at the ground beneath him, the shadows from his messy green hair obscuring most of his face. The boy who once overflowed with boundless optimism now looked like a storm barely held back by a paper-thin dam. 

Finally, he spoke in a steady and firm tone. "Crust gave his life to protect people. He died... a hero." 

He looked up, his emerald eyes blazing with something raw and unrelenting. "We don't have time to grieve properly. Not here. Not now." His gaze swept across the room, meeting each of theirs in turn. Uraraka's teary eyes. Iida and Tetsutetsu's rigid resolve. Todoroki's quiet fury and Tokage's guarded pain. "But we will remember him. We will carry his sacrifice with us. And we'll make it mean something." 

His voice grew firmer, though it trembled with barely contained emotion. "I'm not going to let his death, or anyone's death, be for nothing. I'll do whatever it takes to get us out of here. To make sure no one else has to die. I swear it." 

The room was silent again, but this time, it felt different. The weight was still there, but it was tempered by the resolve in Midoriya's words. His promise hung in the air, binding them all together in their shared pain and determination. 

Then the silence was broken by an all too familiar sound: the sickeningly cheery chime of the Bug. 

A mechanical voice crackled out the unseen speakers. It's tone light. 

"{Congratulations, participants! One of the three legendary artifacts has been found and secured in it's rightful place. The founder's torch burns brightly once more. Keep up the good work.}" 

The announcement ended with a distorted trill of amusement, and the room seemed to shift in tone if only slightly. Only two left and then they could go home. 

They exchanged glances, but there was no arguing with words. Crust's death was proof that this game would take everything from them if they let it. 

It was their turn to pull their weight and start playing. 

Uraraka wiped her face, her cheeks still glistening but her eyes more resolute. "Izuku..." she began, her voice soft but firm. "We'll get through this. Together. All of us." 

He looked at her, something in his hardened gaze softened just for a moment. He nodded. 

"Together." he agreed. The weight of leadership clearly bore down on him. 

That was fine. Whatever it took, he would keep them alive. He would carry them through this nightmare. 

____

I didn't expect to be talking about Yuki. 

Kodai and I had been walking in silence. She was a quiet companion, the type that seemed content to let thoughts fill the air where words would have gone. I was fine with that. But as we rounded the corner and the light of a crescent moon painted her face, I found myself speaking before I even realized what I was saying. 

"I have a sister. Her name's Yuki. She's a third year in the hero course at UA." 

Kodai glanced at me, her eyebrows lifting slightly. I had only realized that I have thought of her a lot less than I thought I would have. 

"Oh?" she prompted. "What's she like?" 

I shrugged, tugging at the loose thread on my sleeve. "Driven, I guess. Quiet and real... intense." I didn't really know what to say about her, I tried to give off a loose smile but it just felt hollow. 

Kodai nodded, though she remained silent, waiting for me to continue. I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye. I felt like every word I said had to matter somewhat as she listened. It was unnerving but also slightly unnerving. 

"We... we don't talk much these days," I admitted, my gaze fixed on the horizon. "I don't think it's her fault, but I also wouldn't say it's mine. I don't know. I don't really think it even matters anymore." 

Kodai raised an eyebrow, but still, said nothing. The weight of her silence pressed on me, pulling words out of me I wasn't sure I wanted to say. 

"I think she's the perfect kid. Always had straight A's. Strong quirk, on the path to being a top hero. And me" I gave a bitter laugh. "Well I was never dumb or anything like that. I was just less ambitious, less caring and maybe even less human." 

"You don't seem any less to me," Kodai said softly. Her voice was steady, but there was something in her tone that was forcing itself past my defenses. 

I shook my head, "This was back then, I was different." My words trailed off as memories clawed their way to the surface. I shoved them back to where they belong. 

"What about your parents?" 

"Not much there either, dad's dead," Kodai flinched slightly. "and mom, well she's alright I guess, I haven't seen much of her though." 

"Family's complicated." she said finally. 

"Yeah complicated." 

We walked in silence for a while after that. The air grew colder as the sun dipped below the horizon, and I could see Kodai wrap her arms around herself, trying to ward off the growing chill. A chill that hadn't been as present in the last few days. 

Two figures stood in the distance, silhouetted against the faint glow of the moonlight. One was tall and broad-shouldered, his stance was casual yet exuding authority. The other was shorter and thinner, covered in a big sky blue coloured coat with the hood pulled up, you couldn't see his face since it was darkened by the hoods shadow. 

"Well, well." the taller man spoke, his face was obscured by a mask. "Look, the one's who found the founder's torch. Congratulations are in order." 

Kodai and I exchanged a wary glance. I stepped forward, keeping my posture neutral but ready. "How did you know? Who told you?" It couldn't have been Stain, but I was sure we weren't being followed. 

The man chuckled. "Names are such fragile things. But I should introduce myself. My name is Trumpet." He gestured to the smaller figure at his side. "And this is my associate, Geten." 

Geten said nothing, even though we couldn't see his face, we could see his cold eyes sweeping under us like we were insects beneath his notice. 

"Trumpet?" I said, narrowing my eyes. "Does that make you a hero, a villain, or something in between?" 

Trumpet laughed again. "Labels. Another fragile concept of society to determine good or bad, the in between doesn't count. But if you must know, I'm simply a man who believes in freedom. True freedom. The kind that comes when everyone is allowed to use their meta-abilities as they see fit." 

Kodai frowned, "Meta abilities? That's... not what they're called anymore. Only the old army of Destro called them that." 

Trumpets mask lit up where I assumed the eyes were supposed to be. "Sharp. Very sharp. And you're correct. Nowadays people do call them quirks. But words have power don't they? They shape how we see the world. Quirks imply something odd, something abnormal. But meta ability? That's a term of empowerment." 

Kodai crossed her arms, her expression skeptical. "Sounds like propaganda to me." 

Trumpet's tone didn't waver. "Propaganda, truth... two sides of the same coin. All I'm saying is that if society truly embraced meta abilities, a lot more people would understand their worth, and wouldn't have to be chasing the same dream to show it." 

He turned to me. "Tell me Soryu..." oh, so he already knew who I was. "How many times have you been judged not for who you are, but what you can do?" 

I guess the potential the Eden Project saw in me would count but... 

"I'm not really interested in your politics or philosophy. We are just doing out best to survive in this game." 

I still didn't know if this confrontation would turn to a fight or not. 

"Survival is the first step," Trumpet said, his tone almost pitying. "But freedom? That is the ultimate goal." 

Geten finally spoke, his voice was as cold as his demeanour. "You waste your breath on them. They're not worth it." 

Trumpet waved a hand dismissively. "Perhaps. But it's always worth planting a seed," he stepped back, his posture relaxed but watchful. "We'll be seeing you two again. Hopefully." 

With that he and Geten walked away, their figures disappearing into the darkness. Kodai and I stood there for a long moment, the weight of the encounter settling over us. 

"That was weird." Kodai said. 

"Yeah," I agreed, my mind racing. "Let's find shelter." 

Kodai nodded, and we set off again, the night swallowing us whole.