Chapter Text
Izuku ran. He didn't care about the pouring rain. He didn't care about anything else except running. His legs and chest stung, more than the rest of his body. He wanted to stop, to take a break, no. He couldn't. He had to keep going.
At this point, he wasn't sure if he was taking the right turns but he didn't care. He had to run. Any hesitation could mean his death. Not that it would be such a bad thing but-.
He courtly shook his head. He had to concentrate.
He suddenly stopped, covering his mouth with his hand and violently coughing, slowly bringing his shaking hand back when he felt something... wet. Only to be met with the gruesome image of his hand coated in his own blood.
He gasped, almost choking on the very same blood. Ok, now he didn't have a choice. He had to get there as soon as possible.
Not bothering to double-check his phone for the address and risk getting even more blood on it, he dragged himself up the doorsteps and, with black spots slowly growing in his vision, he wearily rung the doorbell, using one hand on the wall to prop himself up.
Wait. They didn't have a doorbell. Did they?
He quickly disregarded the thought. His mind wasn't working correctly. He could see the door open, but not make out the figure in the doorway. Whoever it was was just a blur.
He coughed again, mentally praying that he didn't get blood on anything before managing to stutter out a "Ei'...H-hel-" His head spun, the words lodged in his throat, and all he felt was his back coming into contact with the hard wooden steps before blacking out, inhaling what he thought would be his last breath.
-
Shouta expected many things when he heard the doorbell, Hizashi and Nemuri always called before heading over, his neighbours never bothered with him, and he never got any mail, any time he ordered something he had it shipped straight to UA.
If it wasn't anybody he knew, who could it be? He was an underground hero so it was unlikely that his address was leaked, those things only happen to top-pros who aren't careful enough.
Even if it was, he wasn't too popular as a pro so it was unlikely to be a news reporter or stray fan.
Had a villain found his address? Maybe followed him home and scouted his house?
He shuddered at the very thought. Shouta stood up, mentally thankful that he hadn't taken off his hero costume as he activated his quirk and approached the door with his hand on the knife in his belt, ready to unsheathe it at any given moment.
To be safe, Shouta peeked through the peephole built into his door, but froze at the sight.
He could feel his heart pounding in his head as he blinked, trying to register the sight, was that... a kid? He looked badly wounded, he had to help. But... what if it was a trap, someone trying to lure him out?
He unsheathed his knife, ready to attack as he opened the door slowly, staring down at the kid and looking around for somebody, anybody who could have planned this. He noticed the kids mouth moving, trying to speak, and only then noticed all the blood, it wasn't just on the kid, it was... everywhere.
He restrained a gasp of shock then suddenly, the kid fell. Shouta reached out, attempting to catch the kid, but failed and the kid collapsed on the ground. Shouta did a once over on him, checking for anything dangerous before picking up the kid and bringing him inside.
What had happened? Was the kid a victim of a villain attack?
He had a middle school uniform... Aldera? That place wasn't far from here. He stopped himself and decided to find out who the kid was after the kids wounds were tended to.
Shouta quickly stood up and headed over to the kitchen, grabbing a medkit from one of the cupboards. He didnt seem to have any visible cracks on his body, but Shouta knew from first-hand experience that they could be hidden anywhere. The main damage seemed to be to the kids head and, judging by his blood-soaked top, the kids chest.
After slipping off the kids shirt he sucked in a deep breath. It was exactly what he was hoping wasn't the case. But here they were on display, deep cracks in his stomach and chest. How could a kid suffer from so much mental pain?
He disregarded it for the time being as he disinfected the wounds, taking note of not only how severe they were, but worse scars that looked to be from the past. Eventually, he bandaged up the majority of the scars, but took note on what looked like a hand-print burned into the kids shoulder.
What had happened to the poor kid? Mental scars like this don't just show up casually. There were a few things that bothered him especially, like how the kid had a deep gash in his head and Shouta had to pick out... glass. He had to pick glass out of the wound. That was concerning enough as is.
It seemed like the kid didn't mean to come to his house, from the way he croaked out somebody else's name. Shouta had to mentally pray that the poor kid wouldn't be too freaked out, waking up in a strangers house and all, but he didn't have high hopes.
-
Izukus eyes flew open as he gasped, taking in more air then needed and almost choking on it.
Was he dead? He sat up quickly, a sharp pain overtaking his whole body as he observed his surroundings. No..
He was in some type of room.
To be fair he had never actually been inside Eijiros house, so he must've made it there in time. That would explain the bandages he felt rub against his skin.
But then where was Eijiro? Oh god, what if one of Eijiros moms was the person who opened the door? How would he be able to explain all of the wounds?
Izuku felt his breathing get heavier and the cracks in his chest slowly tearing open, but he couldn't stop worrying. It felt like the room was spinning. Everything was so... overwhelming. It felt almost like a black mist was surrounding him, choking him.
The door across the room cracked open a bit and a figure stepped in, but Izuku couldn't care less at this point. He was trying to calm fown before he had a full-blown panic attack.
His nails dug into his wrist to help ground him somewhat. They probably weren't sharp enough to actually cut him, but even then the pain of them stabbing into his skin was enough.
Then suddenly, he felt a hand grab his wrist. His breathing hitched and he immediately tensed up, trying to make himself smaller out of reflex, then he heard a strangely comforting voice.
"Hey, hey kid its ok. Listen to me, you're safe here. I'm not going to hurt you. You can calm down."
Izuku hesitantly looked up only to be greeted with the sight of a black-haired man who looked like he hadn't slept in weeks staring back at him in concern.
Other then Eijiro, there were no other men in the Kirishima household, so this was a complete stranger to him.
Oh crud.