Nonchalant

Chapter 22

Izuku did not like this. 

"C'monnn, don'tcha wanna have some funnn?" The drunk man said, one hand backing Izuku into the wall. His other hand was curled around a red plastic cup, the liquid inside sloshing whenever the man moved carelessly. Some of it got on Izuku's shirt, and the pungent smell had Izuku breathing out of his mouth. He wondered why adults drank it.

Izuku could have easily gotten out of this if he didn't have a sprained ankle. Sure, it was minor, but Izuku really didn't want to make it worse by running or jumping. Not to mention the small packet of leftover rice from a restaurant who kindly offered it to him when he asked. He didn't want to spill the only food he had. 

The man's free hand was moving towards his pants. Izuku decided that his leg wasn't worth it.

Hand firmly clenched on the small bag in his pocket, he put his uninjured foot forward and made a run for it. He could hear the man drop his cup and slur out, "H-hey! Where d'ya think yer goin'?" 

Izuku didn't stop running until his ankle started to throb. He turned the corner and slipped into his temporary living area. Izuku didn't have much of a choice but to leap up and swing himself onto the floor that had all his belongings. The room looked as empty as usual.

Grabbing his first aid kit, he pulled out an elastic bandage and a cold compress that he left in the chilly night. It worked, so it was fine, even if it was more cool than cold.  

Damn it, now he had to stay here until it healed. 

Izuku tugged the bandage on and stared mournfully at his packet of rice. He pulled it open and dumped half of the bag into his mouth, chewing slowly. He didn't have much food, even after salvaging what he could from trash cans. So far, he had two packets of unopened onigiri, half a box of cookies, and a banana. People wasted a lot of food, in his opinion.

This was going to be hard. 

Izuku pulled out his notebook to keep himself occupied and started writing. 

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Sumiko woke up in a surprising clean bed.

She glanced to her left and spotted a heart rate monitor attached to her chest and an IV drip attached to her arm. She could see a chair just a few steps away from the bed. Sumiko propped herself up with her free arm and stared at the patched of white that covered her arms, and probably her legs, too.

Was she at a hospital?

Wait. Where was Izuku?

Shit, shit, shit. What happened?

Her foot knocked against her leg and she flinched from the pain. Oh, right. These dumb injuries. Sumiko vaguely recalled getting struck down by a Nomu after she cut her finger while cooking. Damn it. That one must have been drawn to the smell of her blood. How did it even get out.

Thankfully, it was a relatively weak one, so she wasn't dead.

Back to the topic at hand. Where the fuck was Izuku? Did he get caught, or did he escape? 

Sumiko was not very pleased to see a nurse walk in, since she wanted to be left to her thoughts. But the jug of water and the food in his hands silenced her complaints. Her stomach growled at her. 

The nurse offered her some water, which Sumiko accepted gracefully. Even if she was raised in a bad neighborhood and cursed often, she still had manners.

He gave her a bowl of fish and rice with miso, balanced on a tray. Simple, healthy stuff. She downed it in in flash, almost spilling the hot broth on the sheets. Oops. But damn, that fish was amazing.

Sumiko waved to the nurse, who was busy cleaning up the tray. "H-Hey," she cursed internally at herself for her voice cracking. "Where am I? And who made that fish, because it was really, really good."

Food is important.

The nurse tapped his pen on the clipboard. "You're in Musutafu Hospital right now, and our head chef made that fish. She'll appreciate the compliment."

Straight to the point. Nice.

"Oh, since you're awake, there'll be someone popping in to meet you. Two, to be exact."

Sumiko picked up the cup and gulped down the water. She was screwed. If only she could induce death by choking if she wasn't in a hospital.

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"Tsukauchi, do you mind explaining why I'm going with you?"

Aizawa grumbled under the folds of his scarf. The detective flipped through papers without much of a response. He decided that he'd just wait for him to get out of his mental whirlpool. Tsukauchi could be a pain when he was caught up in his documents.

"Oh, did you say something?" Tsukauchi finally turned to Aizawa.

"Yeah. Ten minutes ago."

Tsukauchi slammed his head onto his packet and groaned. "Sorry, Eraser. The fatigue is catching up to me and I don't like it." 

Aizawa grabbed a sheet of paper that was sneakily making its way to the floor. "It's fine. You've been busy, anyways," he hands it back to the detective, who sticks it back in his pile. "Taking a break helps, you know."

Tsukauchi let out a dry chuckle. His face looked even wearier after Aizawa said the word 'break'.

"I have so much paperwork I have to do, it is not even funny." He said mournfully. The man looked ready to eat the papers.

Aizawa passed him a granola bar, and the detective thanked him before unwrapping the food and biting off a chunk.

Lol I'm burnt 

Inspiration has been coming recently but it's for future chapters T.T

No development for the boring parts T^T