Chapter 17

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"Yuuukiii!" Sato yelled in my ear and I jolted awake.

"Jesus," I complained, pressing my fingers against my temples. "Do you have to yell so damn loud?"

"Do you have to sleep so damn heavily?" He jibed back, squinting his yellow eyes at me whilst helping me out of the car and through U.A.'s courtyard.

"I told you I was tired." I reminded groggily, slumping forward slightly as we walked.

He scoffed. "Yeah, and I see you're back to your usual self."

"I've been myself this whole time." I justified, feeling less tired and more alert the closer we got to Recovery Girl's office.

"I say otherwise," Sato said confidently. "Do you suddenly have selective memory loss?"

"There are sides of me that you haven't seen," I reminded matter-of-factly, flexing my fingers. "I'm not always 'professional.'"

"You eat, sleep, and breath professionalism." Sato retorted, setting a hand on the office door handle before sliding it open.

I answered with a roll of my eyes as we entered the infirmary. Seeing Nezu and Aizawa waiting for me made my stomach drop to the tile floor.

"Christ." I heard Aizawa breath as he looked up and down my disheveled body.

"Oh dear," Recovery Girl said wearily, ushering me over with both of her hands. "What's that you got wrapped up, Yuki?"

I shuffled forward without a word and held out my newly injured arm, watching with disinterest as she unwrapped it for an overview of the damages.

"Goodness gracious, Yuki!" She scolded immediately, whipping her small eyes up to look at me in bewilderment. "What in the world did you do to get a hydrochloric acid burn this badly? It's huge!"

At her reaction, I could feel the looming gazes of both Aizawa and Nezu as Recovery Girl yanked me down to sit on the edge of the bed.

"Christ." I heard Aizawa say again, though more dramatically this time. He even sat down next to me to take my free hand.

"I don't hear an explanation," Recovery Girl scowled, taking out medical equipment necessary for treating my injury before she could heal me. "Spill, young lady."

She sounds like my mother. I thought, grimacing discreetly.

"It was the villain aligned with Dream Walker." I informed stiffly.

"You saw him?" Nezu spoke up with much interest. "What can you tell us?"

"He goes by Satsujin," I explained. "His quirk has something to do with acid, he almost used it on a little girl before I jumped in the way and, well..."

I gestured to my arm with a nod of the head.

"That happened."

"Where is he now?" Aizawa asked.

"He got away," I replied bitterly, all exhaustion filtering out of my system at the remembrance. "I'm sure Dream Walker is completely aware of my return by now."

The room went silent momentarily and I winced at the burning sensation applied by Recovery Girl's treatment.

All adrenaline was drained and what replaced it was an undeniable feeling of impending doom. Just the mere thought of seeing Dream Walker made my hands shake and stomach tighten anxiously. Seeing him, despite coming back here for him, was the absolute last thing I ever wanted to do again.

But I wasn't scared.

I couldn't be.

"Osoroshi," Aizawa spoke up again, squeezing my hand. "You have to come up with a game plan now, there's no more time to prepare. Dream Walker could advance at any time."

"I know," I said bitterly, clenching my jaw. "I know... but they aren't ready."

"They are," Sato contradicted from the wall next to the semi-opened doorway. "I don't think you are."

I glared. "What the hell is that supposed to mean? I'm more ready then anyone could be."

"Then what's your plan?" He questioned, raising a doubtful eyebrow at me. I was only able to scowl.

"Thought so."

As I opened my mouth again to speak, Aizawa cut me off.

"Enough," he demanded. "Now is definitely not the time for infighting. You two need to work together."

I bit the inside of my cheek, allowing my attention to shift back to Recovery Girl as she wrapped up my less ugly wound.

"I have a plan to better prepare ourselves," Sato stated bluntly, turning out the door. "I'll fill you guys in tomorrow morning, for now I need to gather some things."

"Don't take too long." Aizawa instructed as he left.

"I hate that guy." I seethed, sitting limply as Recovery Girl planted a healing kiss on my forehead.

"No you don't," she said, frowning. "Your acid burn should heal completely by tonight, but it'll leave discoloration in your skin where the acid made contact."

I nodded slowly, feeling the side affects of her quirk kick in.

"Aizawa," she swiveled in his direction. "Take this girl home and make sure she doesn't work at all, she needs to focus all her energy into healing for the night. Planning for this Dream Walker can wait until she's healthy again."

"Right," he agreed, pulling me to my feet. "C'mon, kid."

"Miss Yuki," Nezu said again, stepping in front of us to take one of my hands. "Do get some rest. You need to be in tip-top shape for whatever lies in store for us all. No more reckless bouts of heroism, understand?"

I nodded again. "Yessir."

He smiled at my sleepy slur, patted my hand, and moved out of our way. "See you soon."

Aizawa took the liberty of driving us home that afternoon, saying nothing and letting the radio tunes drown out the silence.

When we got home, he helped me out of the car, into the house, up the stairs and into bed. Hiroe didn't even try to say a word to me as we passed, and by the time my head was rested on the pillow Aizawa was seated on the edge of the bed beside me.

"You did good today, kid," he praised in a whisper, hand on my arm. "Scoping out a villain like that isn't easy, even for pros."

"I seriously doubt that." I whispered back, blinking slowly as he chuckled.

"Don't kill me for trying to make you feel better," he joked. "But really, I'm proud of you, even if you sold yourself out."

I shrugged slowly. "I couldn't let that girl get hurt."

"I know," Aizawa cooed, bending over to peck the top of my head. I felt my fingers twitch at the fatherly gesture. "That's what's so great about you."

I smiled gently at that as he arose from his seat.

"Try to get some sleep," he suggested, proceeding in moving toward the door. "You had a big day."

Without exactly thinking, I shot my hand out and grabbed him by the sleeve. He turned to look at me and I stared back contently despite how fast my heart was beating. Why was I so nervous?

"Thank you for everything..." I whispered nearly inaudibly as I trailed off. "... Papa."

I watched in anticipation as his eyes widened a fraction. His fingers even tensed and I found myself fearing rejection and regretting even calling him 'dad' in the first place. It was my fatigue talking, I was sure of it. What else could it be?

But then he smiled.

It was warm, so warm that I could physically feel it in my chest.

"Don't mention it," he said simply — lovingly. "Sleep tight, kiddo."

~~~
An: HHHHHHH MY HEART
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