All My White Lies | bnha

twenty-four | we all cower at death

IN THE FACE OF DEATH, what would you say?

That question had been lingering in my brain for longer than I could remember. They asked it in almost every pro-hero interview, their fuzzy, block-shaped mic shoved in front of the savior's face as they grinned. Sometimes it was a lady who'd raise her fist triumphantly or a man who would simply smile and say something wise.

Sometimes it was the opposite or a sheer combination of both. I was never much of a hero fan, but Kioshi always had been. His figure would be cross-legged in front of the TV, eyes practically glued to the screen. He had dragon figurines in his hands, but he wasn't very interested in them once his favorite channels came on.

I remember my mother always looked mildly annoyed at the TV, but she'd never say something bad. She'd simply lean against the counter, arms crossed as if she was holding her anger together, close to her chest, and then she'd ultimately look away. She knew when to pick her battles and choosing TV channels wasn't one she would win.

As a licensed pro-hero now, I sometimes considered the opportunity to be in that position. Cameras flashing, poised in front of an interviewer I hardly knew with a fat microphone thrust in front of my lips. "Reaper, in the face of Death, what would you say?" And each time I thought about it, my answer would be different.

Not today! Sometimes I was triumphant.

I don't feel like it, can you come another day? Comedic.

Took you long enough. Plain tired.

Can you wait a little longer? It's too early, I have a promise to keep. Truthful.

So, it was all the more jarring watching the television now, All Might was poised with his pointer finger shakily held in front of a camera as he stood on top of mountains of rubble. He looked weak, frail, and almost nonexistent compared to the chunks of things that surrounded him.

And yet, he still stood. Retired, broken, and practically frayed threads of the man he used to be. But everyone continued to praise him as if the man was far from done—that he was a legend in the books, eternally self-made and forever glorified. It was like he was less of a human and more of a hero, a "symbol for peace" he always paraded as.

I wondered if that was the fate of every hero out there.

"Y/n,"

My eyes peeled away from the screen briefly and back to the small, humanoid rodent that was perched upon a chair. His paws were crossed neatly on his lap, feet hanging inches above the floor. He looked puny compared to the dog detective and my lips twitched upwards as I fought the urge to laugh.

"You were in critical condition, just a hair away from hypovolemic shock," Nezu recited as if he had memorized my medical chart in its entirety. "Your body refused everything and you were encased in ink like a cocooned animal. We've never seen anything like it." He hummed thoughtfully.

"Isn't that a good thing? I'm a scientific discovery," I chuckled softly, pausing when Nezu gave me a scornful glare. I quickly muttered an apology, swallowing my mouthful of rice and gulping down water. It felt like the busier I kept my mouth, the less busy my head would be.

"We informed your parents of your state as well, so it's only right that you contact them post-emergency. Your almost hypovolemic shock, sudden drop in vitals, and the induced coma that the medical staff had to put you under. Additionally, we believe this may be quirk-related."

I arched a brow. "And how'd that go?"

"Your mother hung up on us and your father said you were old enough to handle yourself." Nezu's nose twitched and he grumbled, staring at the floor before looking back at me.

"Then there's no reason to ask them about their quirks. Can't we just pull up their medical files or something?"

"Doctor-patient confidentiality,"

"Searching it up? My parents are famous, there's bound to be something."

"Not specific enough,"

"You can't hire a private investigator?"

"Expensive. . . also potentially illegal."

My lips pursed and I stabbed my spoon into the mound of rice. "It feels like you're just making excuses."

Nezu chuckled softly. "Well, it does feel like that whenever you're tasked with something you don't want to do, hm?" I ignored his banter, not even bothering to shovel the food into my mouth anymore as I sat there, plastic spoon clattering against the tray. "Please, Y/n," His voice had grown quiet.

"I'm aware you don't desire a future of any sort for yourself and I can't force you to care. However, I do encourage you to at least try. Your quirk is one of a kind; it'd be a shame to lose it so soon." His tail swung as he began to leave and I half-expected the dog detective to follow suit, but instead, he stayed put.

"Principal," I called out, watching him turn towards me. "What if I had passed? What would you have told them then?"

His head dipped. "That I'm sorry for their loss,"

"Would they really consider it a loss?"

He looked at me, beady eyes glazing over lightly, an expression I wouldn't have caught if it weren't for the glare of the hospital lights. "I would've." He didn't give me an opportunity to respond as he strolled out the door, closing it gently behind him. My mouth stayed closed and even when the dog detective twitched forward to catch my eye, I said nothing.

"You know, he really cares about you. He cares about all of his students."

I didn't bother replying to what he said, swallowing down the sudden heaviness that rolled around in my gut. It'd make sense he considers it a loss, wouldn't he? I'm a special student. My quirk is special. "Can we just. . . get on with what you're here for?" I glanced down at the notepad that was now tucked in his hands.

His nose twitched and he blinked once before complying. "Yes, of course. I'm here to get a police statement. A Yuuei student was kidnapped, as Nezu informed you, so we require eyewitness accounts from everyone at the incident." I slightly felt bad as he peeled through the layered documents, pen already in hand as he looked at me expectantly.

"So, Mr. L/n, what's the earliest thing you can remember?"

I wasn't sure when the questioning was over, but when it had begun, the sun had just started going down. Now, it was nearly pitch black and the last remnants of light had disappeared over the Earth's curve. A nurse was exchanging my IV bag, squeezing out the last of the ink into the tube before carefully replacing it.

I stared at her for a moment, wondering if I should speak first or if she'd continue to evade my eye contact. "When can I leave?" I blurted, watching ink drip onto her gloves as she paused to change them out, double-checking that the new flow was working correctly. "Hm, maybe tomorrow or the day after. The doctor mentioned your vitals are stable."

She lifted the clipboard at the end of the bed, tracing over a few lines with the latex on her hands. "Even though I almost died?"

She laughed. "Even though you almost died."

"Is that. . . normal?"

"For pro-heroes, yes. For kids your age, no." Her smile was small, almost unnoticeable against her face. "You've passed all the health checks, however. At most, you can expect a reflex test in the morning and a questionnaire about any updates to your contact information, but that's it."

"What about my medical bill?"

"Covered by the school,"

I clutched at the blankets, watching her take my used-up trays away and onto a metal cart she had rolled in earlier. "Is death supposed to feel like that?" The nurse looked at me, eyes softening the slightest bit. I could hear her rip against something, a tissue in her gloved hand as she passed it over.

"Was it scary?"

I couldn't answer her, tears rolling down my cheeks as I hiccuped, curling into myself. I could feel her presence on the bed, her weight against the blankets as she reached over, hands gently patting my shoulders. The comfort that I had lost was suddenly back, all collected in scrubs and the familiar tired expression of Yui Hado.

"It's okay, Y/n. It's okay to be scared,"