Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Aizawa doesn’t immediately register that something’s wrong.

Of course, he matched Gojo with himself for a reason- that kid had a terrifyingly powerful quirk, but unlike most students with powerful quirks, Gojo knew his limits exactly. Aizawa admits that Gojo might be the person with the most control over their own quirk that he’s ever met. Gojo was strong. But what was he really without his quirk?

He expected him to freeze up, expected him to be unable to fight once he erased his quirk. Aizawa looks at him, eyes burning with erasure, and the ever-present, unnatural glow of Gojo’s blue irises vanishes, leaving behind a dull afterimage.

Aizawa sees Gojo’s pupils shrink dramatically, sees his eyes widen and his breathing pick up. He expected that.

What he didn’t expect was Gojo to collapse the moment he turned his eyes away.

He looked away for a second, while evading Todoroki’s next ice wave, and expects to become victim of one of Gojo’s techniques the moment he takes his eyes off him, but that doesn’t happen.

When he searches for the boy again, he’s lying on the ground in a heap, face-down, his hair spread across the concrete like a fucked-up halo.

Aizawa freezes. 

“Stop!”, he calls out to Todoroki as he readies another attack, throwing his hand up. His fingers are trembling. Todoroki stops, baffled, turning his head to look down the street.

“...Gojo?”

The edges of Gojo’s white hair morph into red.

Aizawa stomach lurches. He jumps off the building, landing on the street in a roll, and runs over to his unconscious student. The closer he gets, the more blood he can see, glistening on the asphalt, seeping into a puddle beneath Gojo’s head.

“Gojo!”, he barks, taking a hold of his student’s shoulders and turning him over.

Todoroki sucks in a sharp breath beside him, and Aizawa’s hands tighten on Gojo’s shoulders. The lower half of Gojo’s face is covered in red, seeping out of his nose in rivulets. His teeth are stained with it as his mouth falls open, so it’s coming out of his mouth too. 

Aizawa lies him flat on the ground, pulling his eyelids up. His eyes are rolled so far into the back of his head that he only sees white. 

He’s breathing, and his pulse is beating beneath Aizawa’s fingers, if way too fast.

Aizawa fumbles for his phone, snapping off the weights in a heartbeat. Todoroki flinches as they clatter to the ground, eyes still glued to Gojo.

“Turn him on his side or he’s going to choke on his own blood”, Aizawa orders, punching in the correct number on the screen.

It only rings once before someone picks up. 

“Aizawa?”, recovery girl’s voice crackles to life on the other end.

“You need to get to Area one now”, he stresses. “Something’s wrong with Gojo.”

Aizawa presses his fingers together hard enough to hurt. His leg jitters up and down on the floor, and his back aches from sitting hunched over this long. His eyes are glued to the boy laying down in the hospital bed, as unmoving as a corpse.

He raises a hand to rub at his eyes, and lets it sink back into his lap as he finds them still red with Gojo’s blood.

Recovery girl carefully lets go of Gojo’s jaw, wiping her fingers on a tissue. “He cracked a tooth”, she says. “Maybe he had a seizure.”

“A seizure?”, Aizawa asks weakly. “From what?”

Recovery girl turns to him, lips pressed into a thin line. “Your guess is as good as mine. You said it happened right after you erased his quirk?”

Aizawa nods slowly. “Right after I looked away.”
Recovery girl frowns. “And you’ve never used your quirk on him before?”

Aizawa shakes his head. “No, never. If i’d known…”

“You couldn’t have.”, she says softly.

Aizawa sighs. “Maybe there’s some aspect of his quirk that’s actively keeping him alive. It’s not that uncommon. And his quirk is a mystery as it is.” Aizawa bites his lip. “If this is happening all because I erased his quirk-”

“It wasn’t erasure.”

Aizawa’s head snaps up, and recovery girl immediately rushes to the bed again. Gojo stirs, slowly, bringing his hands up to rub at his head. 

“Hey”, Recovery girl says. “Take it easy. Calm down. Gojo, you’re in the hospital. Can you hear me clearly? What’s the last thing you remember?”

Gojo’s brows furrow in a frown. His eyes blink open, and immediately shut again as his face contorts in a grimace. His sclera is bloodshot, Aizawa notices in alarm. Gojo groans, pressing his palms to his eyes. 

“It’s fine, you’re fine.”, recovery girl tells him, trying to pry his hands away before he hurts himself.

“What is it? Do your eyes hurt?”, Aizawa asks. Gojo writhes on the bed, pressing his eyes shut.
“Bandages”, he hisses out. Aizawa hesitates only a second before he rips the next drawer open and hands him a roll of bandages. 

Gojo unrolls immediately, and Aizawa motions recovery girl to step away as Gojo wraps them around his head as if he’s done it a thousand times before. He passes his fingers over his eyes once he’s done, pressing over his brows with a sigh.

Aizawa walks up to the side of his bed. “How are you feeling?”

Gojo’s head turns in his direction. “Like shit.” He grits his teeth. They’re bloody.

“What’s the last thing you remember?”, Aizawa asks again. 

“Exam”, Gojo presses out. “You. me. Todoroki. You erased my quirk.”

Aizawa grimaces, pressing his eyes shut. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know-”

“It’s not your fault”, Gojo says. “I should’ve known…”

Aizawa frowns. “You knew that erasing your quirk causes you to pass out?”

“It’s not the erasure that’s the problem”, Gojo says. His words come out slow, slightly slurred, like his tongue is too heavy to move. “Can someone turn off the lights already?”, he asks with a frustrated sigh. “And close the curtains while you’re at it.”

Aizawa exchanges a look with recovery girl before he complies, standing up to close the curtains while she presses the light switch.

Gojo seems to relax immediately, sinking back into his pillows. With how tight the bandages are around his head and eyes, Aizawa is surprised he can tell the difference at all.

Recovery girl steps out of the room, muttering something about getting Gojo some water. Aizawa nods, scooting his chair closer to the bed. The less people in the room to overwhelm him, the better.

“What do you mean? You collapsed when I used my quirk on you.”

“No, I collapsed after you stopped using your quirk on me.”, Gojo clarifies, and Aizawa realizes that he’s right. When Aizawa used erasure on him, Gojo froze up, but he only lost consciousness when he looked away. 

“But why…?”, he asks, trailing off.

Gojo sighs, throwing his head back. “If you put a frog into a pot of water and heat it up bit by bit, the frog will stay in the pot until it’s burned alive. Throw a frog into an already burning pot of water and it’ll jump out.”

“...What?”

Gojo sighs again, turning his head to look at him. Presumably. “My brain is the frog.”
Aizawa stares. “Maybe you should get some more rest.”

“No!”, Gojo protests as Aizawa stands up. “You don’t get it. When I was four and my quirk came in, I passed out too.”

Aizawa stills. The realization lights up in his head like a lightbulb. Slowly, he sits back down. 

“Your quirk is the water”, he says, and Gojo nods excitedly. “Exactly. My quirk puts a lot of strain on my brain, but I’m used to it- what you did was practically shutting off a machine that has been running non-stop for years.”

Aizawa nods slowly. “And when I looked away, your quirk came rushing back in and you weren’t prepared for the strain.”

Gojo smiles, nodding. “So it’s not your fault. I should have known that I was going to react that way.”

Aizawa says nothing, pressing his lips together. “I didn’t know your quirk puts that much strain on you.”

Gojo hesitates, before shrugging as best as he can while lying down. “I’m used to it. After so long, I can’t imagine a life without limitless and the six eyes.”

Aizawa frowns. The six eyes? That wasn’t the name of his quirk- what does Gojo mean with six eyes? 

“Still, maybe we should get you referred to a quirk specialist”, Aizawa says. “You overused your quirk back at the Usj too, didn’t you? You could get permanent brain damage if that keeps happening.”

“I do not have brain damage”, Gojo says, incredulously. “That’s absurd. And I don’t overuse my quirk… often.”

Aizawa raises his eyebrows. “The Usj was different”, Gojo waves him away. “I don’t even have quirk exhaustion right now. My brain is just threatening to implode.”

Aizawa frowns in alarm, and Gojo groans. “No, stop it with that concerned look. I’ll be fine.” Aizawa probably doesn’t look very convinced, seeing as he’s not very inclined to listen to his potentially brain damaged student, and Gojo sighs, waving him closer. “Wanna hear a secret?”, he whispers, and Aizawa blinks. 

“...Sure.”

Gojo pouts. “Promise you won’t tell anyone?”

Aizawa closes his eyes briefly in a sigh. “Yes.”

“Pinky promise?”

“Yes.”

“Pinky pinky pro-?”

“Gojo”, Aizawa cuts him off, leveling him with a tired glare.

“Alrigth, fine”, Gojo scoffs. He leans Aizawa even closer, until the man is hovering over his bed uncomfortably. His expression morphs into a childish grin suddenly, and he cups his mouth with one hand. 

“The frog heals itself.”

Aizawa stares, unmoving as Gojo turns his head away again, resting back against his pillows. He stares until his breath evens out, and he realizes Gojo fell asleep.

Aizawa leans back slowly, a deep frown on his face.

Satoru still feels like shit when he wakes up again. 

His head is heavy with a pounding headache, and even just moving eyes behind his closed lids sets off a small burst of pain throughout his brain. Thinking hurts, and Satoru screws his eyes shut and grits his teeth against the pain.

Even with reverse cursed technique, he’s gonna take a while to recover. Without it, he’d be dead. Essentially, by letting his unprepared brain take the brunt of limitless and the six eyes, Aizawa practically made him experience what his domain expansion felt like to civilians full force. Not a very pleasant experience, all in all.

Satoru sighs, letting himself be swallowed up by the pillows. Everything feels tender and raw, and his vision is too sharp and blurry at the same time- like looking at the sun for too long. There’s a strange overlay over everything, as if Satoru wandered into a 3D movie and forgot the appropriate glasses. 

This sucks. Stupid erasure. 

Still, Satoru should have known he wouldn’t have reacted well at being exposed to Aizawa’s quirk. He should have said something, instead of finding out the hard way. He guesses he was avoiding thinking about it as much as possible. After all, the last time he’d been without his technique was after he was reborn, and before that… he shudders. Better not think about it. In a way, he was lucky Aizawa was a hero and not some kind of villain that sliced him up navel to chin. 

The door swings open soundlessly, and Gojo turns his head.

“...Aizawa?”

“It’s me, sweetie”, recovery girl says with a sigh, walking up to the side of his bed. “How are you feeling?”

Satoru makes a noncommittal sound, waving his hand. “How long has it been since I passed out, anyway?”

“Not even a day”, recovery girl answers while she feels his pulse, and Satoru sighs in relief. “The exam is still going on, partially.”

“Do you think I can still make it?”, Satoru jokes, and recovery girl slaps his wrist. “Absolutely not! You are in no condition to do anything strenuous! And don’t even think about using your quirk!”

Satoru laughs lightly. “Well, can’t exactly turn it off. Unless you get Aizawa in here, I guess- and even then, that’s probably not a good idea.”

Recovery girl shakes her head. “Don’t worry about school for now. I’m sure your teachers will find a solution.”

Satoru purses his lips. “...I guess.”

Recovery girl throws him a reproaching glance, taking a pair of latex gloves out of the nearby cabinet. “Can you open your mouth for me?”

Why?, Satoru thinks, but obeys nonetheless. He wasn’t a doctor- god knows Shoko did far weirder things to him in the name of science.

Recovery girl feels around the back of his mouth in his jaw, pressing against his teeth one by one, before retracting her fingers with an alarmed frown.

“Gojo, do you feel any pain in your mouth? From one of your teeth?”

Satoru closes his mouth, passing his tongue over his teeth. “No. Why?”

“I could have sworn you cracked one of your molars when you seized up- you were bleeding from your mouth still last time I checked.”

Ah. Satoru did remember a pain in his jaw before he passed out. Reverse cursed technique probably took care of it. He shrugs, morphing his face to look as innocent as possible. “I feel fine. Maybe I just bit my tongue or something.”

Recovery girl doesn’t look very convinced, but shakes her head and moves to the side, taking off her gloves. “Fine. Maybe I’m just getting old.”

She turns to Satoru again, holding a tray full of probably very bland hospital food. “Can you try sitting up? You need to drink and eat.”

Slowly, Satoru tries to sit up with a grunt, and doesn’t quite succeed without recovery girl needing to help him. His arms shake uncontrollably, and he almost slumps right back down if it wasn’t for the old woman stabilizing him. The doctor shoves a bunch of cushions behind his back to keep him upright, and Satoru has to admit that he would have flopped down like a wet noodle without them.

His head pounds at the change of gravity, and static starts to cover his vision. Nausea hits him full force, and he feels his stomach lurch. Fuck.

“Dear, are you alright?”, he hears recovery girl ask faintly. Her voice leaves a loud ringing in his ears.

“I think I’m gonna throw up”, Satoru mutters, his fingers clenching weakly across the sheets. Recovery girl trusts some kind of bowl into his hands immediately, and Satoru shakes as retches, throwing up nothing but bile.

“Oh dear”, recovery girl says as she takes the bowl away from him, handing Satoru a bunch of tissues. “You know, I think there might really be something wrong with your brain.”

“I’m fine”, Satoru protests as he wipes his mouth with a shaking hand. Sweat starts to soak the bandages over his eyes, and a single drop of blood sneaks out of his nostril. He wipes it away before recovery girl can see. 

“Lie back down”, she says. “I’m scheduling you for a brain scan soon.”

“I don’t need a brain scan”, Satoru tries to protest, but recovery girl doesn’t seem to take him seriously. Her eyes soften into something that could be interpreted as sympathy at best and pity at worst. “Honey, I just want to make sure you’re alright.”

Satoru scoffs, but doesn’t really have the energy to argue with her. The ringing is starting to grow louder, drowning out everything else.

“At least wait until tomorrow”, he manages to say. “Maybe I’ll get better.” He knows he will. Reverse cursed technique is there, in his brain, working on healing the damage. He just has to give it time.

Recovery girl sighs. “Alright. But I want you to notify me if you feel worse.”

Satoru hums in agreement, turning away from the doctor. He’ll be fine. He’s been worse. After all, he could be dead.

“Hey, Todoroki!”

Shoto looks up slowly, taking in Uraraka’s happy grin as she skips towards him. She looks a little bruised, but otherwise fine. And by her expression, Shoto guesses she passed the exam. 

Someone else is trailing after her, a little disgruntled. It’s the transfer student, Shinso or whatever his name was. The scarf around his neck seems a little worse for wear, and he’s spouting a large bruise on the side of his face.

“...Hello”, Todoroki says. 

Uraraka sits down next to him on the bench, while Shinso remains standing awkwardly. Shoto wonders why they’re talking to him.

“So, how did it go for you guys? I didn’t even hear the announcement that you passed, so it must have been at the beginning, right? As expected from you and Gojo.”

Shoto says nothing. Gojo’s seemingly lifeless form lying on the ground is ingrained into his mind, and flashes past his eyes whenever he closes them.

“So… where is Gojo anyway?”, Uraraka asks, her leg jittering up and down restlessly next to him. “I’d have expected him to come gloating the moment someone came in the room.”

Shoto looks down to the ground. His lips feel like they’re glued shut, he doesn’t think he could speak even if he wanted to. His fingers clench together hard enough to hurt.

Shinso narrows his eyes next to him, eyes flying to his bloodied fingers. “Are you hurt?”, he asks, and Shoto almost flinches.

“...No”, he says. “It’s not mine.” Breathe in, breathe out. “It’s Gojo’s.”

Uraraka freezes next to him. “...Gojo got hurt?”

Shoto lets his head hang low, biting the inside of his cheek. “I…”

“Did something happen?”, Uraraka presses on.

“He… passed out. Without warning. And… he bled from his nose. A lot.” That’s an understatement. Shoto hasn’t ever seen anyone bleeding so much from anywhere.

“But… But he’s fine now?” Uraraka presses, face pale. Her fingers close around his forearm. “Right? Maybe he was just… tired? Maybe it’s quirk exhaustion?”

“He barely used his quirk”, Shoto says. He rubs his hands over his face, pressing over his forehead. “He just… collapsed.”

Uraraka exchanges a tense look with Shinso. “But-”

“I don’t know!”, Shoto hisses. “I don’t know, okay? One moment he’s fine and then he isn’t and there was just… so much blood. Even Aizawa-sensei was worried.”

That gets Uraraka to shut up, at least. After a moment, Shinso sits down heavily on the other side of the bench, staring into the empty space. Uraraka draws her knees to her chest and buries her face in them.

Loud voices wake Satoru up from his sleep.

He winces, stirring in his bed. His eyes burn uncomfortably as they’re flooded with information, but it’s nothing compared to the pain from before. The blurriness and haze disappeared- all in all, Satoru feels more like he just mildly overused his technique instead of having his brain forcibly shut off.

Still, his head still hurts, and whoever is yelling around certainly isn’t making it better.

“God, would you stop talking?”, he groans, pressing his face into his pillow. “You’re so loud.”

There’s a beat of silence, before-

“G-Gojo?! What are you doing here?”

Satoru raises his head blearily, ignoring the wave of nausea that passes over him. Seems like his sense of equilibrium is still shot to hell.

The room slowly slides into focus, and along with it, Midoriya’s face, wide eyes and all. He looks pretty bruised- was his spine cracked? God, what did All Might do to this kid?

Satoru’s head turns to the other corner of the room- the third bed, occupied by an unconscious Bakugo. Great. Satoru hopes he stays that way, because he might be tempted to knock him out himself if he wakes up and starts yelling.

“I’m enjoying the luxury of hospital beds”, Satoru answers Midoriya. “They’re just so much more comfy than the ones in the dorms.”

Midoriya opens and closes his mouth quietly like a fish, seemingly at a loss for words. Satoru sighs. “I’m kidding, Midoriya. I’m in the hospital because I’m hurt.”

“Hurt”, Midoriya repeats. “...You?”

“It does happen”, Satoru says. “Once in a blue moon. Enjoy the view because it’s not going to happen again.”

“W-What happened?”, Midoriya asks, eyes passing over what he can see of Satoru’s body beneath the sheets. “Are you alright?”

Satoru sighs, rolling on his back. “I’m fine. Just a little brain damage. Nothing I- nothing recovery girl can’t fix.”

“Brain damage?”, Midoriya squeals and Satoru rolls his eyes.

“Keep quiet”, he hisses. “I have a headache. And I don’t have brain damage, I was joking.”

There’s a tense pause, in which Satoru practically feels Midoriya’s eyes drilling holes into the side of his head, before Satoru sighs. “I can hear you thinking. Will you leave it alone if I tell you it’s quirk exhaustion?”

Midoriya blinks. 

“I mean…”, he starts after a moment. “Considering Aizawa’s quirk, I’d expected you to have anything other than quirk exhaustion.”

“Fair”, Satoru mutters. 

Midoriya says nothing, and their conversation trails off into silence.

“Who were you even talking to, before?”, Satoru asks, remembering why he woke up in the first place.

“Uh…”, Midoriya says, glancing to the corner of the room. Satoru follows his faze.

“Oh”, he says. “Hey All Might.”

“It’s Yagi, young Gojo”, All-Might-in-his-deflated-form says, coughing into his handkerchief. “And hello to you too.”

“I’ll take it you two passed?”, Satoru asks, nodding in Midoriya and Bakugo’s direction.

“...Yeah”, Midoriya says with a tired smile. “Even if barely”, he adds under his breath. Satoru shrugs. “As long as you passed, it’s fine isn’t it?”

“And… you?”, Midoriya asks tentatively. “Did you and Todoroki…?”

Satoru falls quiet. 

“I don’t actually know”, he says softly. “I gave Aizawa and everyone else quite the scare when I passed out, I think. I hope they’ll let us retake it.”

Midoriya frowns, but Satoru has enough of this subject.

“Anyway”, he says. “You don’t look so hot yourself, Midoriya. I’m pretty sure you should rest- your spine is pretty damaged.”

Midoriya blinks, face contorted in surprise. “My spine-? How did you know? D-Did recovery girl tell you?”

“My eyes are still fine”, Satoru replies. “And I’m not an idiot.”

“I might have pushed you both a little too far, I admit.”, All Might coughs in the corner. 

Satoru scoffs. “A little? You’re lucky he isn’t paralyzed for the rest of his life. Not even recovery girl would be able to fix that.”

All Might shrinks in on himself, grimacing, but Satoru can’t bring himself to dredge up any sympathy for him. “Whose genius idea was it to pair you three together anyways? Everybody knows you’re incapable of treating Midoriya like every other student- you just had to go all out for him.”

“Wh- that’s not true!”, Midoriya protests. “We- we were fine. All Might knows what he’s doing!”

“Right”, says Satoru sarcastically. “Somehow I doubt that.”

“But-”

“It was Aizawa’s idea, actually.”, All Might interjects. 

Satoru’s eyebrows rise into his hairline in bafflement. “Huh?”

“It was Aizawa’s idea to pair young Bakugo and young Midoriya together against me.”, All Might repeats.

…Huh. Aizawa did? “Wow”, Satoru says. “I admit, I didn’t expect that. I thought Aizawa was more intelligent than that.”

“W-What’s wrong with me and Kacchan fighting All Might?”, Midoriya protests. 

Satoru sighs. “Come on. What isn’t wrong with that? I wouldn't be surprised if Bakugo just started fighting you instead of All Might.”

Midoriya goes quiet. Suspiciously quiet.

“...Seriously?”, Satoru deadpans.

“I-It wasn’t like that-”

“Then how the hell was it?” Anger seeps into Satoru’s voice with every word. He just said he wouldn’t be surprised, but… fucking Bakugo.

“He just…”, Midoriya hesitates, averting his eyes. “He-”

Before he can say anything, trying to justify whatever it is that Bakugo did to him, the door swings open.

“Gojo, you’re awake? Good”, Recovery girl says, shuffling into the room. Satoru huffs, turning away from Midoriya.

“You two”, the old woman points to All Might and Midoriya. “I told you not to cause a ruckus. Midroiya, you should be resting.”

Midoriya and All Might stammer some excuse, and Satoru rolls his eyes.

“I think I’ll take my leave”, All Might says, standing up and wringing his hands awkwardly. “I’ll talk to you later, Midoriya-kun.”

Midoriya says something in agreement, and turns to watch recovery girl as she comes to stand at the side of Satoru’s bed. 

“Help me sit up?”, Satoru asks with a sigh. “Maybe I can manage it without throwing up this time.”

Midoriya’s breath hitches at his words, and Satoru ignores him. Recovery girl helps him sit upright, tugging him up by the shoulders. For an old woman, she’s surprisingly strong. Dizziness rises up in him, and black spots dance across his vision, but the nausea is manageable, unlike before. Satoru can deal with this.

“See?”, he says through gritted teeth. “I’m getting better. No brain damage.” Recovery girl looks sceptical, but doesn’t say anything as she hands him some water. Satoru’s hand shakes around the paper cup in his hand, and he takes a deep breath, trying to keep it still. It doesn’t work. Eventually, recovery girl sighs and helps him. 

Satoru hates it, hates feeling so weak. He’s not supposed to get thrown out of commission that easily. 

“Are the exams over?”, he asks once he’s done. “Almost”, Recovery girl answers. “There are just a few groups left.” Satoru hums.

“Is… Is he going to be alright?”, Midoriya asks tentatively. 

“He is right here”, Satoru answers, and sighs. “Yes, Midoriya. I’ll be fine. I just didn’t react well to having my quirk erased.”

“Oh”, Midoriya says, and falls quiet.

“You are looking better”, recovery girl mutters. “Still, I want you to stay here regardless, so we can monitor you in case you get worse.”

He’s not going to, but recovery girl isn’t going to buy that. “Sure, whatever”, Satoru says, leaning back against the headboard of his bed. “I’m gonna take a nap”, he tells Midoriya. “Do me a favor and don’t wake me up this time.”

If Midoriya says something in answer, he doesn’t hear it, already drifting off.

Satoru exhales through his gritted teeth as he puts one foot after the other. His fingers shake as they‘re pressed to the wall, and it feels like it’s sliding forward beneath his fingertips. Satoru stumbles, and barely catches himself before he falls to the ground like an idiot.

Baby steps, he thinks to himself. Baby steps. 

The general hospital noise grates on his ears, and he still hasn’t removed the bandages pressed tightly over his eyes, but it’s getting better. He doesn’t have brain damage, no matter what recovery girl says.

“…Gojo? Gojo!”

Satoru sighs, stopping. The ground feels like it’s melting beneath him. “Hey”, he says, trying for a fake cheer that sounds pathetic out loud. 

“You… are you alright?”, the voice says. It’s… Uraraka, maybe? Probably. “Todoroki just said you passed out and that you were bleeding and we couldn’t get anything out of recovery girl or anything and we couldn’t even get into your room-“

Satoru slips again, and Uraraka(?) lurches forward to catch him.

“I’m fine”, Satoru insists, trying to get her arms off him. It doesn’t really work, and it turns into him clutching onto her shoulder while she holds onto his waist. Satoru sighs, trembling in effort to keep upright.

“Sorry, could you help me move? I’m trying to get to the bathroom by myself but I’m technically not even supposed to be outside my room.”

“Uh-“, Uraraka says, maneuvering him so that he’s not hanging off her arm like a parasite anymore.

“Okay, but- are you sure you’re… fine?”

“Peachy”, Satoru grunts, starting to shuffle forward again. “Aizawa just turned my brain on and off again like an ancient computer.”

“…Okay?”

Satoru sighs, stopping for a second to wait until his head stops spinning.

“My quirk puts a strain on my brain. But I’m used to it. Aizawa turned it off and on again. My brain wasn’t ready to handle it because it just got reduced to the default setting.” He motions to himself with a broad wave of his hand. “Ergo, temporary brain damage. Emphasis on temporary. Don’t listen to recovery girl. Now, get me to the bathroom, I need to pee.”

Uraraka doesn’t answer, but half-supports half-drags Satoru down the hall.

“Do you need help, or…?”, she asks faintly once they reach the doors.

“I can pee by myself, thank you very much”, Satoru snaps back, limping through the door.

When he gets back out, Uraraka is still waiting, wringing her hands.

“But you’re going to be fine?”, she asks tentatively. 

“Yes”, Satoru says, sitting down on an empty plastic chair lining the wall. “Let’s… sit down for a second. I don’t wanna pass out again.”

He lets his head hit the wall behind him with maybe a little too much force, and sighs. 

This sucks.

“And- And recovery girl says you’re going to be alright too, right?”, Uraraka asks nervously.

No, she’s still convinced I’m brain-damaged, Satoru pointedly doesn’t say. Instead, he just hums. Technically, he isn’t lying if he doesn’t speak.

“Okay…”, Uraraka says, trailing off, but Satoru can still feel her stare drill holes into his head.

He lets his head roll to the side, somewhat facing her.

“Did you pass your exam?”, he asks.

Uraraka hesitates. “Well… yes.”, she says. “It went pretty well, actually. And… did you?”

“I’m not sure”, Satoru says. “I passed out not even ten minutes in. Maybe I’m gonna have to re-take it.”

“You’re not the only one who didn’t… I mean. There are some who failed”, Uraraka says.

“Kaminari and Mina, right?”, Satoru guesses. “They had no chance against Nezu.”

“Well…”, Uraraka starts. “I wouldn’t have put it that way, but… yeah.”

Satoru laughs. “Who else?”

“Kirishima and Sato”, Uraraka admits. “But that’s it. And, well, we haven’t really heard anything from you or Todoroki, so we didn’t know.”

Satoru nods. “So I guess no summer camp for me, then”, he says. He isn’t particularly disappointed- all in all, the camp didn’t sound very appealing anyways.

“Don’t say that”, Uraraka says. “I’m sure there’ll be a way! I don’t think everyone who failed is really going to have to stay home.”

“…Fair point”, Satoru gives in. “Aizawa is too much of a softie for that, anyway.”

Uraraka doesn’t answer, and they sit in silence for a moment.

“…Shouldn’t we get you back to your room?”, Uraraka says eventually. 

“Eh… let’s wait a little bit longer”, Satoru says.

Uraraka eyes him suspiciously from the side.

“…Are you really that unwell, or do you just want to evade recovery girl or something?”

Satoru pauses. “…Whaaat? No.”

In that exact moment, Satoru sees recovery girl walk around the corner. Her gaze searches through the hall, before getting stuck on him.

“Ooookay, time to go”, Satoru says, hurriedly standing up. He almost falls forward if it weren’t for Uraraka snatching him by the arm. “What? Where are we going?”

“I need some fresh air, or something”, Satoru mutters, limping forward as best as he can.

“Gojo!”, he hears from behind him, and Uraraka stops. Satoru’s arm gets pulled back as she stops walking, and he’s yanked back like a dog on a leash.

“Come on…”, he mutters as recovery girl’s short footsteps come closer.

“What are you doing outside your room? I told you I had you scheduled for a brain scan!”, the old woman scolds.

“Erm…” Satoru says. “I forgot?”

The doctor glowers at him in silence, and Satoru can feel Uraraka’s reproaching look aimed in his direction as well.

“Listen”, he says, putting his hands up as best as he can. “I’m better. I’m fine. Yesterday I was puking my guts out after as much as sitting upright, and now I’m up and running down the halls by myself!”

Uraraka tugs at his arm, and Satoru wobbles dangerously. “…Almost by myself. But my case stands!”

Recovery girl looks him up and down, before sighing. “Well, it does look like you’re making progress… if you're really that opposed to it, I suppose we can leave out the brain scan.”

“Yes!”,Satoru pumps his fist in victory.

“But!”, recovery says, pointing her finger at him. “If there’s even the smallest setback, I’m getting you into the MRI machine one way or another. Clear?”

“Crystal”, Satoru agrees immediately. He turns around, tugging at Uraraka’s arm. 

“Come on, take me for a walk!”

“You’re not a dog…”, Uraraka grumbles, but tugs him forward nonetheless.

The sun shines brightly outside, and Satoru winces the moment they step through the doors, shielding his eyes. Uraraka tugs him forward to a shadowed spot, and Satoru lets himself sink down on a concrete step. It’s so bright.

“You wanted to come outside”, Uraraka says defensively, and Satoru realizes he said that last part out loud. 

“I already regret it”, he groans. He presses his hands deeper into his eyes.

“We can go back inside, if you want.”

“No, it’s fine. The fresh air is helping.” And it is. The stuffy air of the hospital and the smell of disinfectant was driving him nuts.

He takes a deep breath, leaning back against the wall. The birds are chirping. It’s nice.

Uraraka coughs next to him, waving her hand through the air. She turns her head, towards the direction of the hospital doors, where Satoru can spot a man smoking near the entrance.

“The to smoke right next to the hospital…”, Uraraka mutters. Satoru giggles. He doesn’t mind. Shoko smoked all the time as well, after all. In fact, the man is probably smoking the same brand as her and later Suguru. It smells the same. Or maybe Satoru is just imagining things again.

Uraraka throws him a glance from the side. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing”, Satoru shakes his head. He takes a deep breath, chasing the familiar feeling the smoke leaves in his lungs.

“You don’t smoke, do you?”, Uraraka asks doubtfully.

“No, nothing like that”, Satoru laughs. “I had… a friend. He used to smoke all the time.”

Uraraka frowns, crossing her arms. “I hope he knows that it’s really unhealthy. You could get cancer.”

Satoru smiles ruefully. “I don’t think he really cared about any of that.”

“All of this… just because Aizawa used his quirk on you?”, Shinso asks, puzzled.

Satoru shrugs, trying to focus on the task at hand. His index finger touches the edge of recovery girl’s clipboard. 

“Good”, she says. “Now touch the tip of your nose.”

Satoru pulls his finger back in a straight line, to the tip of his nose. It wobbles a little, and recovery girl notes it down. Satoru sighs.

She hands him a ball, instructing him to throw it up and down with one hand. 

“I didn’t know anything could throw you out of commission this hard.”, Shinso mutters, following the ball with his eyes.

“Quiet”, recovery girl shushes him. “He needs to focus. I told you not to disturb him.”

Shinso narrows his eyes, but backs off. 

Satoru throws the ball up and down, up and down.

“Did Aizawa-sensei say anything to you?”, Satoru asks. “He hasn’t come by again.”

“You shouldn’t worry about school right now”, recovery girl dismisses his question, making notes on her clipboard. The ball brushes Satoru’s fingertips, falling to the floor as he fails to grasp it. Reflexively, he tries to catch it in his infinity, and a bolt of pain zips through his head as he tries to activate his technique.

The ball bounces off the floor, and Satoru clenches his hand into a fist hard enough that his nails break skin.

“Better than last time”, recovery girl sighs, picking up the ball. Satoru hides his hand beneath the sheets of his bed.

“You seem to have had no notable setbacks”, recovery girl says. “That’s good. I’ll come by this evening again, alright?”

Satoru nods, and the woman leaves his room.

Satoru groans, leaning back on his bed. He hates this stupid hospital. Does it really make a difference if he recovers at home?

“What do you think?”, Satoru asks. “Did I fail the exam or not?”

Shinso shrugs. “This probably counts as a medical emergency, right?”

“Maybe.” Satoru doesn’t really feel like taking it again, though. It’s enough that he almost made himself brain-dead once, right?

“What about you?”, Satoru asks.

“Passed”, Shinso says. “I was in Uraraka’s group, remember?”

“Ah. Right.”

Silence spreads. Shinso seems to not know what to say and Satoru is too tired too care. In the end, the boy fidgets, staring at the blood slowly dripping down Satoru’s fingers.

“I didn’t think your quirk could hurt you too.”, he says.

Satoru turns his head in his direction. He hasn’t taken the bandages off yet, a comfortable pressure over his eyes. Shinso’s face is a blurry grey through the vision of his six eyes, as if Satoru’s underwater and staring up at him through the surface.

“It’s a double-edged sword.”, Satoru says. “Every quirk is. The sharper the edge, the bigger the risk that you can lop your hand off by accident.”

Shinso frowns. Seems like no one appreciates Satoru’s metaphors. 

“Why are you even here?”, Satoru asks when it’s clear Shinso wasn’t going to answer.

Shinso stares at him for a second, before shrugging. “...Checking up on you, I guess.”

Satoru hums, holding his gaze. “I didn’t think you cared.”
Shinso presses his lips together. Me neither, his face seems to say. But he’s probably too much of a coward to admit it.

Satoru turns to the side, facing away from him. He’s tired.

“Hey”, he says, a thought popping into his head. “Can you feed Gege while I’m gone?”

“...Sure.”

“I don’t understand why you wanted to come with me.”, Shinso mutters. The keys jingle as he jams them into the lock, and he trudges through the door of the dorms without bothering to hold the door open for the person behind him.

Todoroki doesn’t even seem to notice. He takes a quick look around the living room, before his eyes stick to the back of Shinso’s head again. 

“Gojo is my friend.”
Shinso turns to look at him briefly, before he shakes his head. “Whatever. His room is upstairs.”

Technically, it was against the dorm rules to keep an animal, but Shinso wasn’t one to snitch. And he actually liked Gojo’s cat.

Shinso spends a minute going through the keys on the keychain Gojo gave him before finding the right one, and he swings the door open with slight curiosity, Todoroki peeking over his shoulder.

It looks… normal. A bed, a shelf, a desk, a beanbag in the corner. Shino isn’t quite sure what he expected- maybe he thought Gojo’s room would be as extraordinary and insane as the boy himself.

Shinso crouches down while Todoroki looks around, peeking under the bed. He squints, and catches a single eye blinking back at him.

“Hey, Gege”, he croons, holding his hand out to the cat. “Come on. I have food.”

Gege growls lowly, and doesn’t move. Shinso sighs, getting up. Maybe if he smells it he’ll come.

Todoroki stares at the magnetic board over Gojo’s unmade bed, full of random papersheets and drawings. Shinso walks around him, to the food bowl next to the door. But even after he fills it up, the cat refuses to get out from under the bed. Well, Shinso tried. It’s not his fault if Gojo’s cat doesn’t eat.

“I’m done”, he calls out. “...Todoroki?”

The boy is still staring at the wall. Shinso is tempted to leave him inside and lock the door.

“Who do you think drew this?”, he asks.

Reluctantly, Shinso comes closer. Todoroki is staring at a drawing pinned to the wall, stick figures made by crayons. A bunch of people holding hands in front of a house. “Probably Gojo’s sister”, he says.

Todoroki blinks, turning to him. “He has a sister?”

“...Yeah?”, Shinso says with a dry stare.

“Oh.”, Todoroki says, turning back to the wall. “I didn’t know that.”

Shinso shakes his head. “Well, whatever. Are you coming?”

Todoroki manages to unstick himself from the wall then, following him outside. Shinso is still wondering why he tagged along up until they part ways outside the building.

“And?”, Midoriya asks, fidgeting impatiently. “Did you find anything?”
Todoroki throws him a cold glance. “Not really. It looked like a normal room.”

“He has to have something somewhere. His behavior was too suspicious to-”

“Or maybe”, Todoroki interrupts him, “He doesn’t have anything to hide because he’s not part of the league of villains.”

Midoriya cuts himself off with a frustrated sigh, locking their gazes in a staring contest.

Iida next to them sighs, coming to stand between them. “We’ve been through this. We’re just looking for something explaining his behaviour, especially his encounter with Stain.”

Todoroki looks away, crossing his arms. Midoriya hunches hus shoulders, staring to the ground.

“He has a sister”, Todoroki says after a while. Iida perks up curiously, while Midoriya just blinks. “I know. I’ve met her.”

“Really?”, Iida asks. “He’s never mentioned a sibling before.”

Midoriya shrugs. “She’s pretty young. They don’t look a lot alike, to be honest.”

The girl’s hair had been a shade too blue, her face too round and her eyes too big. They looked like distant relatives at best, not like siblings. Maxbe Midoriya should have asked her for her quirk- he didn’t see anything out of the ordinary beside the horn on her forehead.

“Now that I think about it, he never mentioned his parents much either”, Midoriya mutters. He didn’t think much into it, but it seems weird that Gojo really never talked about them.

Todoroki shuffles in place, staring at something far away.

“His father died”, he says in the end. “Recently. He told me a few weeks ago.”

Midoriya freezes. “...Oh. That’s… Oh.”

Iida frowns. “We didn’t even notice.”

“He didn’t behave any different than usual”, Midoriya says. “Except… those two days he wasn’t in school. We thought he was sick.”
Iida nods slowly. “That would explain it.”

“But he really doesn’t talk much about his family”, Midoriya insists. “I’ve never seen his parents before. They didn’t even come to visit him in the hospital.”

The three exchange glances, on the same page for once.

“I’ll try to look into it”, Todoroki says.