The Flap of a Butterfly's Wings

Counting the Days

Izuku wakes up in pain.

Which, to say, is not an uncommon occurrence. But this pain was all over his body with occasional stabs of agony when he breathed too deeply, not the usual soreness. He rapidly blinks his eyes as he tries to wave the sleepiness away, like fanning fog.

Once he is no longer half-asleep, he doesn't even need his sight to know exactly where he was. The scratchiness of the blankets, something squeezing his finger, the strong smell of cleanliness.

A hospital. He was in a fucking hospital. That's when the memories came crashing down on him: the battle, Eri, the pain of getting shot.

His mask. He didn't have his mask.

Izuku shoots up from bed in a panic, but is soon greeted by white-hot pain. He winces as his eyesight blotches and lies back down on the stiff pillow.

"You shouldn't do that," said a rough voice. Izuku snaps his head to the left and sees a face that utterly terrifies him at that moment: Shota Aizawa.

He knows.

He hadn't noticed him when he first woke up, too distracted by where he was to think about who else might be here. Who might know who he was. Izuku thought he was panicking before, but he was wrong. Now, all he could think was shit, shit, shit, shit.

Izuku jumps out of bed, and almost passes out in the process, but he doesn't fall. He rips out the IV and takes off the oximeter on his finger. He's wearing a hospital gown with his vigilante outfit on the chair opposite of Aizawa. His backpack is there, too.

He takes a step towards the window, knocking a vase with pretty white lilies in it to the ground. He doesn't have the energy to care at the moment, only being able to think about how to escape. Everything else will come later. He knows that his scars are on full display, and not just the ones that he gained from being a vigilante or in the arena, but the self-inflicted ones as well.

Aizawa stands up slowly. Oh how Izuku hates being treated like a wild animal. It's happened a substantial amount.

"Midoriya," he starts, and any hope that Aizawa wouldn't recognize him vanishes, "It's okay. You need to lie down so you don't rip the stitches."

Like Izuku cares about ripping a few stitches. He needs to get back to the cafe before Ru gets home and then avoid Aizawa for as long as possible. But then Eri flashes through his mind, and his goal of escaping is temporarily replaced by another one.

Izuku takes another step back to keep his difference, but Aizawa just takes one forward. He lets out an irritated sigh and runs his hand through his thick curls.

"Eri," he says.

Aizawa's face contorts into something he can't quite decipher. It almost looked akin to shock, or even pride, and neither made any sense.

"She's safe. Just finished her check up. You were out for twelve hours."

Izuku relaxes a tiny bit knowing that Eri is okay. "Where is she now? You better not have left her alone, or with someone I don't know."

"She's with Yamada in the waiting room, sleeping." Shota takes another step closer and Izuku pins him with a glare as he does. It doesn't seem to affect him much to Izuku's dismay. "Look, we need to talk about you. You've been missing for over five years. Bakugou still goes to the police station to see if they've found anything."

winces, but it's not because of his injuries. The comment of Kacchan hurt him more than any bullet ever could. What added to the pain was the fact that Aizawa did it on purpose- he knew that comment would hurt him.