My Hero Academia: Heavenly Restriction

The stairwell swayed under my feet as I climbed. Blood dripped steadily onto concrete steps, marking my progress like a macabre trail of breadcrumbs. Four flights had never felt so long.

I found Yaoyorozu crouched behind a support pillar on the fifth floor landing, her drone's control tablet casting blue light across her features. She glanced up at my approach, then did a double-take that would have been comical under different circumstances.

"Midoriya!" The tablet clattered to the floor. "You said you were fine!"

"I am fine." My attempt at a reassuring smile pulled at something raw on my face. "Just some surface damage."

"Surface-" She grabbed my arm, steering me toward the wall. "Sit down. Now."

"We don't have time for-"

"We have exactly five minutes and twenty-eight seconds." Her voice carried that steel edge I'd noticed during our planning session. "And you're bleeding from at least three different places."

I slid down the wall, legs grateful for the reprieve. "Iida's position?"

"Still patrolling." She knelt beside me, hands already glowing as she created bandages and antiseptic. "Two minute circuit between the main entrance and the service door. And don't try changing the subject."

The antiseptic stung as she cleaned the cut above my eye. My ribs protested each breath, though the pain felt distant now. Almost academic.

"These burns..." She worked quickly, wrapping my forearms with practiced efficiency. "What was in that explosion?"

"Nitroglycerin-based compound. Kacchan's quirk lets him secrete it through his palms." I flexed my fingers, testing the bandages. "The gauntlets store and compress it."

"And you knew this before letting him fire?"

"Had a pretty good idea."

Her hands stilled. "That was incredibly reckless."

"It was calculated."

"The word you're looking for is stupid." She created more bandages. "Your shirt's in tatters. I need to check your ribs."

I started to protest, but the look she gave me could have frozen hell itself. The remains of my costume peeled away with a wet sound I tried not to think about.

Yaoyorozu's sharp intake of breath said plenty about the state of my torso. The bruising had to be spectacular by now.

"Three cracked ribs, minimum." Her fingers probed gently. "Possibly a hairline fracture on the fourth. You need Recovery Girl."

"After we win."

"If we win. You can barely stand."

"Then I won't stand." I caught her wrist as she reached for more supplies. "Yaoyorozu. We have four minutes left. What's your plan?"

She hesitated, clearly wanting to argue further. But there was something calculating in her eyes as she studied me - weighing options, running scenarios.

"You're not going to back down, are you?"

"Not a chance." I released her wrist. "But I promise to follow your lead. No improvising this time."

A small smile tugged at her lips. "Really? The great tactician Midoriya, following someone else's plan?"

"Consider it an apology for earlier." I shifted, finding a position that didn't make my ribs scream. "Besides, your strategies are solid. I should have listened from the start."

Pink dusted her cheeks as she helped me back into what remained of my shirt. "Right. Well. The plan relies heavily on Iida's predictable nature..."

She outlined her strategy, fingers dancing as she created the necessary components. It was elegant in its simplicity - using Iida's own thoroughness against him. The kind of plan that proved why she'd gotten into UA on recommendation.

"Think you can manage your part?" she asked, helping me to my feet.

"Just point me at the right wall." I tested my balance. "Though fair warning - I might pass out immediately after."

"Try to avoid that." She checked her tablet one last time. "Iida's approaching the service entrance. Thirty seconds."

I took position, breathing through the pain. "Yaoyorozu?"

"Yes?"

"Next time we're paired up, I'll listen to your plan from the start."

She smiled - not the polite expression from earlier, but something genuine and bright. "You really think I'll work with you again after this?"

"What can I say?" I grinned back, tasting copper. "I'm an optimist."

The tablet beeped. Show time.

The plan unfolded with mechanical precision. First came the flash-bangs through the drone's delivery system, detonating at opposite ends of Iida's patrol route. His startled yelp echoed through the corridor as he instinctively rushed to investigate the threat furthest from the bomb.

Yaoyorozu's steel cable sang as it unspooled across the hallway at ankle height. The timing had to be perfect - too early and he'd spot it, too late and we'd miss our window.

"Three." Her voice was steady in my earpiece. "Two. One."

Engine exhaust filled the air as Iida rocketed back toward the bomb room, exactly as predicted. His legs tangled in the cable at full speed. The crash shook dust from the ceiling.

"Now!"

I stumbled out of cover, every movement sending fire through my ribs. The capture tape trembled in my fingers as I approached Iida's prone form. Just a little further. Stay conscious.

"Midoriya!" His voice carried genuine concern despite our opposing roles. "Your injuries-"

"Are irrelevant to the mission." The tape wound securely around his arms. "Nothing personal."

"VILLAIN IIDA HAS BEEN CAPTURED!" All Might's voice boomed through the speakers.

Yaoyorozu emerged from her position, already creating a simple battering ram. The barricade blocking the bomb room's entrance didn't stand a chance.

"One minute remaining!" All Might called.

The room tilted sideways as I followed her in. My vision narrowed to a dark tunnel, but I caught glimpses of her graceful advance toward the bomb. 

"Hero team wins!"

Finally. The adrenaline holding me upright evaporated. The floor rushed up to meet me as darkness claimed the edges of my vision.

"Midoriya!"

"Told you..." My words slurred together. "Might pass out."

The last thing I registered was Yaoyorozu's worried face hovering above me, her lips forming words I couldn't quite catch. Then everything faded to black.

The familiar antiseptic smell of an hospital greeted me when consciousness returned. Afternoon sunlight filtered through half-drawn blinds, painting warm stripes across starched white sheets. Ah. Recovery girl's office. 

I turned my head to the right, wincing at the stiffness in my neck. Familiar spiky blonde hair caught my attention - Bakugo lay in the adjacent bed, glaring daggers at the ceiling tiles as if they'd personally offended him.

"How's the head?" 

"Better than your face, you Quirkless fuck." His jaw clenched. "The hell were those moves anyway?"

"Martial arts. You know, that thing people learn when they can't just blast everything to shit?" I adjusted myself against the pillows. "Though I guess that's too complex for a dickhead like you."

"Rich coming from someone who got their ass blown up." He shifted to face me, burns visible on his forearms. "Next time I'll aim higher."

"Bold of you to assume there'll be a next time after I put you through that floor."

"Put me through-" He sat up sharply. "I let you get that hit in."

"Keep telling yourself that." I stretched, making sure he saw how easily I moved despite the injuries. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

"I'll fucking-"

The temperature dropped ten degrees. Queen stood in the doorway, her beauty somehow making her even more terrifying. The overhead lights cast sharp shadows across her face. Her blue eyes had gone arctic, and the slight tilt of her head reminded me of a predator sizing up prey.

"Well." Her voice carried the gentle menace of silk-wrapped steel. "What do we have here?"

Bakugo opened his mouth. Queen's eyebrow ticked up a fraction. His jaw snapped shut.

"Good choice." She approached my bed first, tablet materializing from somewhere in her uniform. "Let's start with you, troublemaker."

"I'm fine-"

"Four cracked ribs." She tapped the screen. "Second-degree burns across both forearms. Mild concussion. Internal bruising." Each injury clicked off like ammunition. "And that's just what Yaoyorozu reported before you lost consciousness."

I kept my expression neutral. "Sounds about right."

"Mm." She leaned closer, her presence somehow filling the entire room despite her height. "And the shoulder dislocation you popped back in yourself?"

Damn. "How did you-"

"The way you're favoring your left side. The slight swelling pattern." Her finger traced the air above my collar bone, not quite touching. "The distinctive bruising that forms when someone uses a doorframe for leverage instead of proper medical assistance."

"It worked, didn't it?"

"Did it?" That arctic eye fixed on mine. "Roll your shoulder for me."

I complied, hiding the wince as bone ground against cartilage.

"As I thought." Her disapproval dropped the room temperature another few degrees. "Improperly set. We'll need to redo it." She straightened, turning that devastating focus on Bakugo. "Your turn, firecracker."

"The fuck you call me?"

"Would you prefer 'walking safety hazard'?" She consulted her tablet. "Mild concussion. Three broken ribs. Strained tendons in both wrists from improper recoil management. First-degree burns despite your quirk's resistance - meaning you exceeded even your own tolerances. Possible micro-fractures in your right ulna."

Bakugo's scowl deepened. "It's nothing-"

"It's stupid." She cut through his bravado like tissue paper. "Both of you. Playing at being heroes while destroying your bodies through sheer ignorance." Her gaze pinned us each in turn. "Do you know what happens to pro heroes who ignore proper medical care? Who treat their bodies like disposable tools?"

The silence stretched uncomfortably.

"They die." The words fell like ice chips. "Slowly, painfully, as accumulated damage catches up. Or quickly, when old injuries choose the worst moment to resurface." She created a syringe from nowhere. "Now. Who wants their shoulder reset properly?"

I raised my hand, trying not to look as unsettled as I felt.

"Smart boy." She approached with that predator's grace. "This will hurt."

Ten excruciating seconds later, my shoulder sat properly in its socket. Queen's movements had been precise, efficient, and utterly merciless.

"Rest. Both of you." She turned toward the door, pausing at the threshold. "And if I catch either of you attempting unauthorized training before full recovery..." The temperature plummeted. "We'll have a much longer conversation about human anatomy."

The door clicked shut behind her. Neither of us moved for several heartbeats.

"Damn." Bakugo's voice carried something close to awe. "She's fucking terrifying."

"And hot," I added, testing my newly aligned shoulder. "Like, illegally hot."

"Right?" He slumped back against his pillows. "The way she just knew everything wrong with us?"

"That's her job. But the eye thing when you tried to talk?"

"Thought I was gonna shit myself." He snorted. "Still would."

I laughed, then immediately regretted it as my ribs protested. "Pretty sure that's an inappropriate thought about medical staff."

"Pretty sure I don't give a fuck." He shifted, wincing at his wrists. "The fuck is her quirk anyway?"

"It must be similar to Recovery Girls." I considered the implications. "Maybe something that needs extensive medical knowledge - she'd need to understand anatomy perfectly."

"You're doing that nerd thing again."

"Your face is doing that dickhead thing again."

"Fuck you."

"Sorry, I don't think Queen would approve of strenuous activity."

His resulting laugh-snort carried genuine amusement. "Bet Recovery Girl hired her just to scare patients straight."

"Probably works better than actual medicine." I closed my eyes, shoulder finally settling into proper alignment. "Though I could do without the temperature control."

"Fucking ice queen." There was something almost respectful in his tone. "Think she actually knows how people die?"

"Don't really want to find out." I cracked an eye open. "Though if you're volunteering for research purposes..."

"In your dreams, Deku."

"Nah, my nightmares have better taste."

The familiar insults carried less venom than usual. Maybe it was the shared trauma of Queen's inspection, or maybe the painkillers finally kicking in. Either way, the silence that settled felt almost companionable.

Recovery Girl found us like that an hour later - not quite friends, but not actively trying to kill each other. Her knowing smile suggested this might have been the plan all along.