Chapter Text
“I’m sorry, kiddo. Your blood... it’s attacking itself. If you’d have come in sooner, we would have been able to try some treatment options but at this point... there’s just no way. We don’t have access to any quirks that can undo this level of damage. The best we can do is make you comfortable.”
Izuku stares at the floor tiles. The pattern is uneven. There’s an extra black tile where it's supposed to be gray. Did they not think ahead before laying down the tile?
“Kiddo?”
He looks up. Dr. Inoue is very kind. She never hesitates to tell him the truth. She never treats him like a child, despite her pet names. And she had done him the favor of telling him before his mom got here. Acting in loco parentis for him, taking him on as soon as he arrived at the emergency room. He was so grateful she was on shift today. He didn’t know how he was going to tell Inko.
“Sorry, Dr. Inoue. I heard you. Just... processing.” His voice cracked on the last word. He ignored it. A gentle hand rested on his shoulder.
“I know it’s a lot. I’m so sorry. But I’m glad you came in. Have you been having pain lately? I can’t imagine you’ve been feeling good , especially considering the state you arrived in.”
Izuku nods.
“Yes, ma’am. I- It’s mostly in my arms. Which, I guess makes sense, with my quirk and all.”
He’d told Dr. Inoue about being a late bloomer. She had no idea about One For All, but it was hard to hide a recently developed quirk from your long time pediatrician.
“I think it’s possible that this is related to your quirk. Your red blood cells are being destroyed faster than they can regenerate, which is indicative of hemolytic anemia, but the thing that’s destroying those cells... it should be picked up by our tests. We can see the signs that something’s there, destroying them, but we can’t see the thing itself. It’s invisible to us. Which to me, says your quirk. Probably part of why you were a late bloomer. Your body was trying to protect you. Unfortunately, kiddo, it wasn’t enough. If you use your quirk, you’ll only expedite the process. You understand what I’m saying, Izu-chan?”
He nods. He understands. He’s a smart kid. He’ll have to be careful. Or he’ll have to improve faster than his body can deteriorate. Understood. He has a mission to perform. He’ll make it work.
“Alright. I wanna see you every week to start out so we can try different things for your pain, okay? We can cut down once we know how rapidly this is developing. Sound good?”
Izuku plasters on a smile. He doesn’t deserve Dr. Inoue. She’s so good.
“Sounds good, Inoue-san.”
“Alright, I’m gonna head off to my next patient, but they’ll be by with your discharge papers as soon as your mom gets here. You have my number. Don’t forget to call, okay?”
He smiles for real when the doctor leans over to rustle his hair, her own locs brushing against his face. She always smells like strawberries. He watches her leave, before yanking his backpack over the side of the hospital bed and pulling out a fresh notebook and a pen. His quirk is killing him. He’s living on borrowed time. But it’s okay. He’ll figure it out. He always does. While he waits for his mother to arrive, he labels the notebook and begins scribbling, page after page of observations.
Medical Analysis for the Present.