Chapter 8
Katsuki and Eijirou finish their food first, they clean their bowls and go in the containers to get their uniforms on. Izuku watches on, Ōkoku walks around in the sand, walking towards their training tarp and walking on. It crinkles under her step, the new texture startles her slightly, drawing a giggle from Izuku.
Katsuki walks out first, his mask hanging off his ear, tightening the buckle on his pants. Eijirou followed after, his red hair slicked back, hidden under a dark red beanie. He looks over to the tarp, seeing Ōkoku bouncing around, happy mewls and yips as she does. He chuckles and walks over to Izuku, who still sits in front of the fire, the sun has fully set by now. Eijirou sighs softly and ruffles Izuku’s hair, “We'll be back in a few hours.”
“Be safe, I’ll probably be asleep when you return, but I’ll try to stay awake.” Katsuki walks over, masks over his face and cracking his knuckles.
“We’ll be fine, Nerd.” He says, bumping Izuku’s shoulder with his knee. “Take care of Ōkoku for us.”
“I will.” Izuku hums, waving as Katsuki and Eijirou leave the compound for patrol. Izuku looks at Ōkoku as she walks back over, her ears twitching as she watches them leave. She looks at him and meows softly, causing a giggle. “They’ll be back Ōkoku, don’t worry. You are stuck with me for now!” Another meow.
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“King…” Soldier says, jolting his head to the right, a muffled scream and a loud thud is heard. King nods and motions to lead. Soldier bounds off, king not too far behind. They were about an hour into their patrol and things had been relatively quiet. Nothing had needed to be interrupted and everyone was inside and safe. A few people lurked the alleyways and sidewalks. They run and jump between building and building, sliding down roofs and pipes to get to lower buildings. They arrive at a large open space behind a closed music shop, large crates and a few dumpsters are in there, as well as a loading bay.
In the center of the open space, a large muscled man is holding up a girl (looking not much older than Soldier or King) with short bobbed violet hair. The man has one hand around her throat lifting her off the ground, another holding what looks like audio jacks in front of her. He tightens his hand around the audio jacks and she yelps, squirming. “L-Let me go!” She gasps, legs dangling and licking, trying to get purchase on the male but sliding away.
“Shut it girl!” The man growled, his grip around her throat tightened, causing her to squirm more and gasp for air as her face slowly drained color. Soldier and King shared a look before jumping down. The thud they made when they landed drew the attention of the man. “The fuck? Scam!”
“H-He--” The girl gasps, her eyes pleading, tears streaming down her face. Soldier charged forward, followed by King. Ramming into the man, Soldier hardened his arms the slightest bit. The man grunted and recoiled, dropping the girl. King caught her before she hit the ground, dashing away from Soldier and the man who had started to fight. The girl had taken a large breath and had started coughing. King had set her down behind a large pile of crates.
“Stay.” He told her, before charging back into the fight. Soldier was in a close quarters fist fight. He was dodging left and right and down. Deflecting kicks and punches, jolting away when the man charged. The man was getting more and more agitated, his eyes dilated, going completely black. He grunts and huffs more, horns slowly grow from his temples. His body bulks up a bit, appearing larger and stronger. Soldier stands crouched, ready to retaliate. The man takes a large breath…
Then he charges.
Full blown, head down, horns forward, charges at Soldier. Soldier opens his fist and has his hands braced in front of him, and when the man is in front of him, he grabs a hold of the horns and flips over his head, landing on his back. The man’s head snaps back with the force of the flip, Soldier wraps his legs around the man's torso and steers him into a dumpster. Jumping off his back, Soldier joins King, standing side by side in front of the dumpster where the girl is hiding, her panicked breath is heard as she curls in a ball.
The man finally manages to escape his dumpster prison and turns to the duo, a sharp glare and a feral frown on his face. “You fuckin’ pieces of shit!” He calls, charging again, much faster than before. Soldier’s eyes widen, the man is only a few feet from them and getting closer, “We don’t have time to brace.” He thinks, before shoving King away from the horns that grow close. Soldier doesn’t move away in time. The horn slices his shoulder deeply.
Soldier screams.
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Eraserhead was doing a normal patrol, keeping a look out for the troublesome trio, listening to anything that might happen. He’s leaping from building to building, using his capture scarf to catch on light posts to swing. He’s about to leave a cluster of buildings when he hears a loud scream. A scream of pure pain.
He’s quick to change directions, running in the direction of the scream. He arrives on the edge of a music shop. Behind the building in an open space, he sees something he wishes could have never happened. He sees Soldier get shoved against a wall by a man with horns on his head, one dripping with blood. Soldier’s right shoulder has a heavy slice, blood pouring down his arm and dripping off his hand. King is on the floor getting up quickly and rushing the man, palms open facing behind him. His hands then spark to life, small explosions leave his palms as he propels forward.
With a war cry, he lands on the man and grabs the horns, still leaving explosions in his wake. He grips the horns and pulls them away, snapping his head back and is drawn in a backflip and King keeps pulling, spring boarding off and dragging him to the floor. Looking to Soldier, Eraserhead sees a young girl rush forward, tears streaming down his flushed cheeks, a hand shaped bruise around her throat as she goes to Soldier. “S-Sir? S-Sir?!” She hiccups.
Soldier is unconscious.
This makes Eraserhead jump down. He activates erasure and launches his scarf forward, pulling King away, who is now explosion-less, and wraps it tightly around the man who is struggling and grunting. King is growling and struggling.
“Let me the fuck go Eraser!” He shouts, his head locked onto Soldier. Reluctantly he does so, and King immediately rushes for Soldier, reading into a pocket in his pants and pulls out a small ziplock bag. Inside looks to be bandages, antiseptic, a needle and thread, gauze, and tape. Eraser watches them in his peripheral while dealing with the growling man. With a pinch to his Vagus Nerve, the man was out cold, bound by the scarf.
Walking over to the vigilantes and the young girl, he sees King take a knife from another pocket and slice away his shirt, revealing battered skin and an angry cut with blood pouring down. The girl gasps and covers her mouth, King spares her a glance before pouring some antiseptic onto a gauze patch and squeezing it over the cut. “Soldier’ll be fine. He’s too stubborn to let this affect him much.” He says to her, but Eraserhead catches a hint of unease. “He’s scared…” He deducts.
Soldier stirs and groans when the antiseptic pours into the wound, blood washes away slightly as King gently wipes the cut area. It’s a bright angry red with blood pooling in drops before sliding back down. “Soldier…?” He asks, still wiping away blood before putting the gauze directly on the wound and adding pressure. “Soldier, you with me?”
“‘..ing…?” Soldiers groans, blinking his eyes wearily. He hisses as King adds more pressure. He looks over King's shoulder and sees Eraserhead, hands stuffed in his pockets with a stand of his scarf still wrapped tight around the other male. Soldier stiffens and watches him wearily, more awake now. Eraserhead just nods slightly at him and keeps watching King work. Soldier grabs the soaked gauze and holds it to his arm. “King, take care of her. I’ll be fine.”
“Sol-”
“Do it, King. We can’t take care of this here.” He stressed, adjusting himself to sit straighter against the wall. King grumbles and looks to the girl, who watches on cautiously, the bruise on her neck a deep blue and purple.
“Is it hard to breathe?” He asks her, going over to her and checking her over.
“N-Not r-really…” She hiccups, “J-Just m-my jacks h-hurt…”
“Can I see them?” King asks, gingerly offering his hand out, Soldier watches on, holding the gauze still, that is slowly staining red. Eraserhead watches King interact with the girl before turning his gaze to Soldier. Sighing softly, he crouches in front of him. Soldier tenses and watches him cautiously.
“Let me see.” Eraserhead says, nodding his head at the wound. Soldier squints his eyes at him, before reluctantly removing the blood soaked gauze. Eraserhead gingerly lifts his hand and gently touches around the slice, drawing a hiss from the vigilante. “We might need to take you to the hospital… it’s real deep.”
“No!” King interrupted, glaring at Eraserhead. The girl was clutching Kings sleeve on his arm tight, her knuckle white. “We ain’t going to some fuckin’ hospital! We can deal with it ourselves. Poet and I can deal with it!”
“Speaking of Poet,” Eraserhead looks around “where is he? He’s usually with you. He’s not hurt is he?” He levels a look at King, face blank.
“Poet is fine, he couldn’t come out with us tonight.” Soldier imputed, reapplying the gauze. Eraserhead sighs, the wound is still bleeding and Soldier is getting paler by the minute. This isn’t looking good.
“Soldier is gonna bleed out at this point if it’s not taken care of soon. He needs a hospital.” Eraserhead stressed.
“Fu-” King goes to yell.
“Eraserhead, it isn’t safe for us to.” Soldier interrupts, looking at Eraserhead with strong eye contact. His eyes plead and beg not to go to the hospital. A few red flags spark to life in Eraserhead’s mind “It’s not safe for them…? What the fuck does that mean?”.
“It could get infected and you could die, Soldier.” Soldier gulps and takes a shaky breath. “You are getting paler and paler. We need to do something now.” King growls and gives the girl still clutching onto him a gentle squeeze.
“We need to call the police and get that fuckwad outta here, get her home.” King says, clearly pained at what Eraserhead had said. “For Soldier, we will do anything to help him, but we refuse to go to the hospital.”
“..Okay. I will call the police… And I might know someone who can help…” Eraserhead sighs and walks a bit away, pulling out his phone from his utility belt. The man is still out cold, on his back and bound. Soldier gets a different gauze soaked in more antiseptic and puts it back on his wound. The bleeding has slowed, but it’s nowhere near stopped.
King is still offering comfort to the girl, gently rubbing her arm and holding her close. “What’s your name?” He asks her. She’s slowly calmed, but nowhere near relaxed.
“J-Jirou Ky-Kyoka…” She stutters, she still holds a strong grip on his sleeve. “W-Will he be o-okay?”
“I’ll be fine Jirou-chan. Like King said, I’m as stubborn as a rock.” Soldier chuckles softly and smiles behind the mask, his eyes crinkling. Jirou nods slightly and clinks her jacks together. Thin bandages wrapped around the left one. Eraserhead walks back into the group.
“My detective friend will be here soon, he’s bringing an old friend of ours. She’s the Hero Recovery Girl. She’ll want to bring you to your home or hers because, while healing you, it will make you exhausted and you will fall asleep.” He says, hands in his pockets. “She’ll let you keep your mask on and keep anonymity.”
“We’ll do her home.” Soldier says, his breathing has slowed, getting groggily.
“Soldier, I need you to stay awake.”
“I’m trying…” The sound of police sirens slowly approach and get louder, until they stop getting louder and footsteps get closer. A soft click of something gets closer as well. Looking to the alley mouth, King tenses and stands protectively in front of Soldier, the girl follows, finding comfort in the duo.
“Eraserhead, it’s good to see you dearie.” An older woman says. She walks slouched, walking with a syringe looking cane. She has an aura of respect and wisdom, she walks over to Eraserhead and gives him a onceover. Her attention then shifts to Soldier. “Oh dear!” She rushes over, King growls softly, watching her cautiously. “Oh shush you.” She tells him, a stern look at him before she looks to Soldier.
“Hello ma’am…” He mumbles, his gaze holds a cautious gleam, eyeing her every movement.
“Hello dearie, let’s get a look at that cut.” She puts on some rubber gloved from her coat pocket and takes away the soaked gauze. She gently pokes and feels around the cut, Soldier hissing softly at the movement. “Sorry dearie… How long has it been bleeding?” She asks, turning towards Eraserhead, drawing his attention away from the restrained male and detective.
“I’d say a little over ten minutes… I didn’t get here until a bit after it happened.”
“Oh dear… well, you did a good job cleaning it. Let’s get you to a bed and I’ll heal that right up. You’ll be very tired, so I suggest waiting til tomorrow til you return home.” Both boys tense at having to wait. They share a glaze of weary and panic.
“Will he be able to keep the mask on?”
“As much as I am against it… yes he can keep it on. We just need to get him to my home soon. Tsuchachi, can you take us three to my home quickly?”
“Yes ma’am, it shouldn't be a problem.” The detective turns his attention to King and Jirou. “Let’s get you home, miss…?” He holds a hand out to take her to the police car.
“Jirou Kyoka, sir…” She replies, looking at King, who nods for her to go and give her one last comforting squeeze. She slowly releases her hold on him and slowly walks over, fiddling with her earjacks and hunched in on herself. The detective leads her to a police officer with a cat head and he leads her to a car, the man that attacked her already in a car and has already left. She spares a glance at the duo and offers a small wave, in which Soldier returns and King gives a nod.
“Alright, Eraserhead can you help get, Soldier, was it, to a car so we can get him to my home. I’ll heal him once he can stay in the same place for a while.” Earning a nod, Eraserhead looks at the duo before walking over, gently helping Soldier stand. He allows him to put weight on him when he stumbles, feeling light headed.
“Soldier, want me to go with, or do you want me to go to Poet…?” King’s voice is surprisingly soft, he looks at Soldier with such fondness, so much emotion is held in those pools of carmine.
“Come with… then go.” Soldier says, looking to King.
“Let’s get going dearie.” Recovery Girl says, walking ahead of the three males, leading them through the alley and to the cars.