Erasing Quirks, Erasing Lives

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He hadn't thought the pain would ever end. Nothing he'd been through before had compared to it.

He'd of course been victim to Overhaul's quirk before. But the man had never held it for so long before. He just kept ripping Hitoshi apart and putting him back together, over and over and over again. At some point, Hitoshi had passed out from the pain. Next thing he knew, he was back in his cell, left alone to dwell on his failure.

God, he'd fucked up so badly. He was just a little too slow and it cost them their freedom. They'd all probably be more cautious around them now. He doubted he'd ever get a chance like that again.

His thoughts turned to Eri. He hoped she didn't hate him for failing her. He hoped Overhaul didn't hurt her, though he knew that was wishful thinking. He hoped it wasn't too bad, at least. He hoped she didn't blame him.

He deserved her blame and hatred, though. It was his fault they'd been captured again. It was his fault she'd no doubt been hurt again. If he weren't such a useless fuck-up, she'd be free and safe by now.

But she wasn't. And Hitoshi was the only one to blame for it.


A few days had passed since then, though Hitoshi wasn't sure how many. He'd been given water a grand total of twice. Food wasn't even in the equation. His throat had never felt so dry before and he swore his stomach was beginning to eat itself.

This was probably an extended punishment, he realized. Normally after being disassembled or beaten or treated to whatever other particular method of instilling obedience chosen, that was the end of it. He wouldn't be hurt again until his next transgression. But this wasn't like it normally was.

No, he'd tried to escape. Probably the worst thing he could've done next to directly attacking Overhaul. Of course he'd want Hitoshi to pay the price for it. It shouldn't have been surprising that he'd do whatever he could to prevent him from trying that again. And what better way to accomplish that than starvation? It ensured a constant, relentless pain Hitoshi couldn't break free from while weakening him day by day, until he was so weak there wasn't the slightest chance of escape. Every second he endured it drove him madder and madder. He didn't think he could stand it much longer. Not that he had much of a choice in the matter.

The cold wasn't helping things, either. His prison was cold enough normally as it was, and the malnutrition certainly wasn't helping things. It had only been a few days like this, but he could scarcely remember feeling warm. He felt like a frightened kitten with the way he was shaking on his cold cell floor. He was certain if Overhaul could see him - and hell, for all Hitoshi knew, he could - he'd be laughing at him. The thought stung more than the cold.

He hoped at the very least Eri was being treated a little better. No way would she have gotten off scot-free, but maybe they'd go easier on her since she didn't have any part in planning it or directly helping them escape - she had just been dragged along for the ride. Surely they'd see that much and show a little mercy, right?

It was wishful thinking and he knew it. Hitoshi had been here long enough to know none of his captors had any concept of mercy. There was no point in trying to delude himself with forced optimism. He knew that all too well. It didn't stop him from trying, though. He couldn't stop believing she would be alright. Not when she was the only reason he was still alive. And he meant that very literally.

He'd only been offered water twice since the escape attempt. He'd very seriously considered refusing it, letting himself succumb to dehydration. He also had half a mind to try breaking the glass itself and slitting his wrists, or perhaps his throat if he was feeling particularly bold. It would've been a lot faster than dehydration.

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