Final Chapter
2 days after the war
White took his vision, unencumbered. Like rain clouds in the shape of napalm and icy water once took the sky.
Katsuki's first waking breath ridded his body of the chaos it underwent not so long ago. Half-open eyes stared back at the blank for some time. It wasn't until the notion of being alive hit him like a train that the boy shot upright.
A hospital gown draped his body, bandages reaching from the lengths of his arms to his waist. The sudden motion nearly ripped the breathing tube clean out his nose. Still healing wounds and burns ached and tore.
Katsuki winced, shook his head. Removing the breathing tubes, tearing out his own IV, he looked around frantically.
A moment ago, he was racing after Shigaraki and Deku, a deafening explosion leaving you falling from an ice barrage. He'd just caught you. He'd held you in his arms when you passed out- you both landed safely, but-
Swallowing on a dry throat, Katsuki only just realized his hospital room was empty of another patient. It was only him, the other bed gone untouched. It was only his heartbeat that let thrumming rhythms crawl through the room, a flat beeping melody following in tow on the heart monitor.
All that caught his eye was a flash of color on the side table, a tinge of red upon a piece of paper. The little red plane from his dorm. With still adjusting vision, Katsuki grabbed the side of the bed, reading the note beneath it.
Katsuki,
Many UA parents are moving into the dorms. Masaru and I are taking shelter there. The house was destroyed. I came to see you, but you were asleep. Your doctors will tell me when you wake and I'll come to the hospital as soon as they do. I just didn't want you to wake up without anything to bring you comfort. You and Y/n always loved this one, right? I'm here for you, son. Stay safe.
Katsuki sighed a broken sigh.
"Stupid old hag," he mumbled, wishing his mom knew how much he appreciated the gesture. Taking the plane into his palm, he closed his fingers gently around it, letting its strength help him stand.
"Ah!" Sato along with a good portion of 1A opened the door, walking in. "You're awake!"
"Where's Headset?!" Katsuki yelled, throwing his legs off the bed and standing up. "What about Todoroki and Deku? Sensei? Senpai? Endeavor? What happened to everyone?" His questions flowed without fluency, his classmates barely able to understand even as he gripped Sato's shoulders. "Are they okay?"
***
What first woke you wasn't even the light. It was the shouting. People by the dozens wielding signs, cameras, and microphones like villagers wielding pitchforks.
Their words were fearful, hateful, traveling from far outside the hospital through shut windows and too thin walls. Protesters, reporters, civilians who'd lost their homes. They were all victims of a war with an absent enemy. So who was left to blame but the healing soldiers who failed them?
"Shoto," you whispered, sitting up only to feel your entire body protest at the act. You couldn't move one of your legs, the throbbing stinging straight to the bone. There was a banging feeling at the back of your head too, one that made your ears ring in a familiar way.
"Y/n," You didn't recognize the voice that spoke your name. It was hoarse like fire embers were stuck in the speaker's throat. When you looked over to the bed at your side, Shoto sat there, his throat wrapped gauze, light compresses peaking from beneath his hair. Burn marks trailed his skin from fingertips to nose.
