Rehab
There were no tearful reunions or joyful exclamations to greet his awakening, no friends or family gathered around his bedside. Instead, he found himself alone, the only sound the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor beside him.
Blinking against the harsh fluorescent lights overhead, Hiro struggled to make sense of his surroundings. His head throbbed with dull ache, and every movement sent a wave of pain radiating through his body. With a groan, he attempted to sit up, only to be met with resistance from the myriad of tubes and wires attached to his body.
The pain from his injuries seeped through the haze of medication. Instinctively, he tried to produce more painkillers with his quirk. But to his dismay, there was nothing there.
It was as if he were watching the events of his life unfold from a distance, his emotions muted and distant. Even as the doctors delivered their grim prognosis, outlining the extent of the damage he had sustained, Hiro's expression remained eerily calm.
His parents, visibly shaken by the severity of his injuries, hovered anxiously by his bedside, their faces etched with worry and concern. But Hiro offered them only a small, reassuring smile, his demeanor strangely serene.
As word of his awakening spread, some of Hiro's classmates and friends stopped by to check up on him, their expressions a mixture of relief and concern. But even as they voiced their worries and offered words of encouragement, Hiro's responses were measured and detached, as if he were merely going through the motions of social interaction.
It was a disconcerting feeling, this sense of detachment from reality. A coping mechanism, a way of shielding himself from the overwhelming weight of his circumstances.
As Hiro lay in his hospital bed the following days, his mind constantly drifted back to the events of the attack—or rather, the gaping hole in his memory where those events should have been. Try as he might, he couldn't recall a single detail from that day.
But then, as he watched the news reports detailing the latest exploits of the now notorious villain Sandatsu Owari, what happened to him became painfully obvious. It was as if a missing puzzle piece had finally fallen into place.
Whie he was lost in thought, the sound of footsteps approaching drew his attention. Glancing up, he saw Inigo Myoga entering the room with his usual cheerful demeanor, a bright smile lighting up his face.
"Hey there, man!" Inigo greeted, his voice filled with warmth as he made his way over to the bedside. He was carrying a basket full of fruit and Gigan a "get well soon!" balloon. "I brought you some more stuff. Thought you could use a little pick-me-up."
Hiro couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of the other balloons, now piled up in the corner of the room. Inigo had made a habit of visiting him in the hospital, which resulted in the abundance of balloons he brought him one each time.
"Thanks, Inigo," Hiro replied, with a small smile. "I appreciate it."
Inigo grinned. "So, how are you feeling today? Any better?"
Hiro shrugged, offering a noncommittal nod. "I've been worse, I guess. Just taking it one day at a time."
Hiro continued flicking through the news reports on the small screen in his hospital room. He couldn't help but notice Inigo's gaze lingering on the screen. It was a topic that seemed to hang heavy in the air, yet no one in their class dared to openly discuss it, as if it were some unspoken taboo.
"You've been keeping up with the news, huh?" Inigo remarked.
Hiro nodded slowly. "Yeah, trying to piece together what happened."
Inigo nodded in understanding. "Yeah, it's been... rough," he admitted.
"Have you talked to anyone about it?" Hiro asked, his curiosity piqued.
"Openly? Not really, no," he said. "But I've been chatting with the Boys a bit, you know, Hifumi and Bobby. And Chris too. And what about you? How's recovery going?"
"Physically I'm on the mend, more or less."
"You know what I'm talking about bro."
Hiro remained silent for a second. "Yeah, it's gone," he replied simply, his tone devoid of any hint of sadness or regret. It was as if he had accepted his fate with a quiet resignation.
"Come on, maybe it'll come back, you know? Miracles happen all the time in this world. There could be someone with a quirk that could restore yours!"
Hiro offered a small, wistful smile at Inigo's hopeful words, but it quickly faded as he shook his head. "Nah, it's gone for good," he reiterated.
There was a brief pause as Inigo absorbed Hiro's words. Finally, he cleared his throat. "So, what are you gonna do now?" Inigo asked.
"Well, I figure I'll just roll with the punches, you know?" he replied. "For starters, how about we exchange numbers again? I lost most of my stuff."
"Oh damn, I forgot about that for a second! Last time I visited you still didn't have your new phone yet."
"Can you type for me? Using a phone with my hands like this is a pain."
"Sure, I got you."
Hiro reached for the bedside table, where his new phone lay, and passed the phone over to him with a small smile. He watched Inigo input his information into the device.
Inigo grinned as he handed the phone back to Hiro, his excitement palpable. "Aaaaall done! Now I'll add you to the class group chat again. We've been missing you in there."
As Hiro scrolled through the group chat, he couldn't help but chuckle at the flood of messages from his classmates. It seemed like they had been keeping busy, sharing memes, gossip, and the occasional homework question. There also were some mentions about the internships, something he had missed.
But it was Inigo's sudden burst of laughter that caught Hiro's attention, prompting him to glance up in curiosity. "What's so funny?"
Inigo shook his head, still chuckling as he pointed to Hiro's username on the chat. "Dude, you changed your username to ElCapo?"
"I totally forgot I wrote that. Must've been the meds."
A few days had passed since Hiro had been discharged. As he emerged from his house, the warmth of the sun greeted him. He leaned heavily on his cane, each step a laborious effort. Despite this, with a determined stride, Hiro ventured out into the world beyond his doorstep.
He had told his parents that taking walks was part of his rehabilitation, and while that much was true, his destination was a bit too far away for someone win his condition.
The sun had begun its slow descent below the horizon, casting long shadows across the empty courtyard of Shiketsu High. Hiro stood patiently by the school gates, his gaze fixed on the pathway ahead. He could feel the cool evening breeze against his skin, a welcome respite from the stifling heat of the day.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Hiro caught sight of a familiar figure making her way towards him. Atsushi Orochi cut an imposing figure as she approached, her long white hair billowing behind her in the wind. She greeted Hiro with a nod.
Even though she had agreed to meet him when he asked her over text, seeing his state made her second guess their plans. "Shouldn't you be resting at home?" she asked.
Hiro offered her a weak smile in response. "Don't worry about it. But lets talk inside. The sun is killing me."
As they entered the cool confines of the school building, Hiro felt a wave of relief wash over him. The shade provided some respite from the sweltering heat outside, and he welcomed the change of scenery. Orochi followed closely behind.
As they walked through the corridors, Hiro couldn't help but notice the curious glances directed their way by passing students. It was clear that news of his hospitalization had spread throughout the school, and he couldn't shake the feeling of being under scrutiny.
"Don't worry about them," she said. "They're just curious. Besides, it's not every day we have a celebrity in our midst."
"I gotta be the lamest celebrity around, then."
As they continued their journey through the school halls, Orochi couldn't resist commenting on something she had noticed ever since Hiro had contacted her.
"ElCapo? Really?" she said, her tone teasing.
"Oh come on. First Inigo and now you."
"It's just, it's so out of the blue." she laughed.
"Yeah, well, it seemed appropriate at the time," he replied.
As Hiro and Orochi approached the labs, the faint buzz of machinery filled the air, accompanied by the metallic scent of industry. Most workshops were usually occupied by support course students who tinkered away on various projects, but one lab stood conspicuously empty.
There wsa someone waiting for them in front of said lab.
"Hey, Kyoda. Atsushi," Genma greeted them with a nod which Hiro returned. He had been waiting there, as Hiro had requested
Without a word, Genma produced his access card and swiped it through the lock, the door unlocking with a soft click. He held it open for them, gesturing for them to enter the lab.
Going inside, Hiro glanced at Genma, a hint of uncertainty in his expression as he broached the topic. "Hey, Genma, have you changed your mind about what I told you about?"
Genma's response was swift and decisive, his voice firm as he shook his head. "No way, Hiro. You know I'm not about to make something like that for you." His tone left no room for argument, a clear indication of where he stood on the matter.
Hiro nodded, accepting Genma's answer with a resigned sigh. With that settled, Genma excused himself, promising to return later once they were finished. Hiro watched him go. Left alone in the lab with Orochi, he returned his focus to their task at hand.
Orochi's curiosity piqued as she watched Hiro rummage through his bag, her hydra heads swaying inquisitively. "So, are you finally going to tell me what we're doing here?" she asked as she smacked one of the silly little guys, which had taken an interest in some stray plastic.
Hiro straightened up, holding out a handful of vials. "For starters, I plan to continue the project I started with Hijack."
"Seriously? That's pretty cool," she remarked. But then her expression turned quizzical. "But why do you need my help for that?"
"Because," he began, his voice low and serious, "I'm also making a weapon."