Chapter Text
Izuku Midoriya was exhausted. Physically, mentally, psychologically. Absolutely, one hundred percent done with everything. Seriously, all he’d wanted when he’d left the clinic for the day, was to go home, stuff his face with whatever he had in his empty fridge, and fall asleep uncomfortably on the couch with some random romcom playing on the tv.
Really, that was it. That’s all he was asking for.
And the plan had been going great so far. He’d closed up the clinic on his own without issue. The bus was relatively empty on the drive home. And he was pretty sure he had some left over yakitori in the fridge he could heat up for dinner. Sure, it was probably a week old and might not taste the best… but it was food and he wasn’t one to waste.
The kink in his plan came when he was on the steps of his shitty apartment building. Honestly, he’d almost missed it over the sound of his keys jangling in the lock, but Izuku would blame his training on the fact that he could pick out the sound of pain from a mile away. And this one sounded like a lot of pain.
Lucky for him, it wasn’t a mile away, it was in the alleyway beside his building.
And now, Izuku knew he didn’t live in a good neighborhood. He knew this part of town was rife with hooligans and mafia and thieves. He knew, logically, that going into a dark alley in the middle of the night all by himself was probably the worst idea he’d ever had. He was probably going to end up mugged or killed or worse. But he couldn’t help himself, his body moving on its own before he could think to stop it.
It was a man in the alley, surprisingly well dressed in a pressed grey suit, a black turtleneck sticking up from underneath it. His silver hair was unkempt, falling to his shoulders in wild curls and waves around his pale face. His very pale face. The metallic scent coming from the man had Izuku taking a few cautious steps forward, eyes roaming for any obvious injuries as the man leaned heavily against one of the alley walls, though it was difficult to see anything with how dark it was.
“Um- excuse me, sir? Are you- are you hurt?”
“I’ve been fucking shot, of course I’m hurt,” a rough voice spat immediately, only for the man to tense once he’d realized what he’d done. Slowly, the man turned his head from where it was pressed up against the wall and Izuku was met with red.
His eyes weren’t red like Kaachan’s. Not exactly at least. Kaachan’s eyes were more of a bright red, like rubies or fresh roses. This man’s eyes were deep and dark, like uncut, polished garnet. There was blood splattered across the side of his face, and now that Izuku was closer, he could see some dark stains in the man’s jacket that were most likely where his wounds were. And wow, there were a lot of them.
“Shit-“ he breathed, taking a quick step forward only to pause when the other man took a step back. “We need to get you to a hospital. I um- I don’t have a car but I can call an ambulance-“
The words choked off from his throat before he could finish the sentence, his back slamming hard against the alley wall as he was sandwiched between it and the man. A hand was wrapped tightly around his throat, nearly cutting off his air supply but not quite, not yet at least. He managed a strangled gasp, fingers reaching up to circle around a thin wrist, but he knew better than to fight back. Who knew what the man’s quirk was, and if the pinky finger lifted off his skin was any indication, Izuku was only a twitch away from finding that out.
“No hospital,” the stranger growled, leaning so close that Izuku could feel his warm breath across his face.
And wow… the guy was way hotter up close.
Which, you know, probably isn’t the best thing to think when his life was being threatened by some rando in an alley. But hey, he was a broke college kid with no time for sex and a type that screamed dangerous and ‘do not approach’. Suffice it to say, Izuku hadn’t gotten any in a really long time. And sure, the guy wasn’t what most people would consider attractive, not with his pale skin and the scars under his eyes, but damn if those eyes didn’t do it for him.
“Okay! Okay, no hospital. But sir, you’re going to bleed out-“
The grip around his throat loosened slightly, the body in front of him swaying a bit before pitching forward. Izuku barely had time to tense up before he had an arm full of bloody alleyway creep.
“Shit, shit, shit,” the greenette hissed, glancing around frantically as if his surroundings could give him an answer to the problem he’d put himself in. Honestly, he should just call an ambulance. That would be the safe thing to do, regardless of the guy’s insistence against it. And Izuku probably couldn’t blame him. In this part of town the guy was probably some sort of criminal, a gangster or wanted thief or something of the like. It was most likely that he couldn’t go to the hospital, not with all the questions they’d ask about him being shot. Still… he should call an ambulance. It was the smart thing to do.
What wasn’t the smart thing to do was to haul the stranger over his shoulder and literally drag him into his apartment complex. What wasn’t the smart thing to do was bring him to his apartment and drop him unceremoniously onto his messy bed. What wasn’t the smart thing to do was grab his (very large and well supplied) first aid kit from the bathroom with the intention of helping this man who was very likely a criminal.
But you know… Izuku never claimed to be very smart. Besides, he’d made an oath to help and by golly he was going to uphold that oath even if it would most likely get him killed.
“Wh’t’r you doing?” The man grunted once Izuku had dropped back onto the mattress and splayed open his kit. Blurry red eyes glared up at him, watching and calculating, but Izuku ignored them in favor of pulling out a pair of gloves and some scissors.
“I’m fixing you up since for some reason you refuse to go to the hospital,” he explained, voice more confident now that he was in his element. He reached for the man’s shirt, only to be stopped by a pair of hands gripping his wrists. (Pinkies still raised. Definitely a contact quirk, most likely dangerous.) Izuku leveled the man with his own glare, but he didn’t fight the grip. “The shirt has to come off if I want to see how badly you’re hurt.”
The guy sneered, probably at the audacity of the greenette’s tone. “Nothin’ you want to see under there,” he growled.
“It’s either you let me help, I call an ambulance, or you die from blood loss,” Izuku growled back, though admittedly it was much less intimidating. He focused on keeping his hands steady, his voice confident. He was all too aware that whoever this man was, he could probably kill him faster than Izuku could get to a phone. Still, he wasn’t about to let the man die. “Make your choice.”
They stared at each other for far too long, but Izuku could wait. Either the man would give in, he’d kill him, or he’d pass out from blood loss and Izuku could rush to try and save him. Lucky for him, the man seemed to be aware of the options as well because he grunted and dropped his hands.
Izuku didn’t waste any time cutting the man’s shirt open on the front, then up the sleeves so he could peal the entirety of the front portion off. It stuck to the man’s skin slightly with the blood, but he didn’t even flinch when Izuku managed to pull it away and drop it onto the floor beside them.
The younger of the two took in the injuries as quickly as he could (three gunshot wounds- one grazing the left side, one through the right shoulder, one through the right bicep. Clean through, no bullets to dig out.) The man was tall and thin, but he was by no means lanky. His arms were thick with muscle and his torso was toned and chiseled. Not nearly as large as Kaachan or Eijiro were, but still fit enough that Izuku assumed he worked out. It was the tattoos that really caught his attention though. He was covered in them. Or rather, it seemed to be just one large tattoo- a white and red and blue dragon that curled around his stomach, stretching onto his back and under his armpit where the head rested on his chest. The artwork was beautiful, extremely detailed and clearly very expensive. It was a drastic difference to the stark black handprints that littered the man’s body. They were blacked out completely, some curling around his ribs and arms. Two sat curled over his shoulders and collarbones, circling his throat like some kind of shadow was threatening to choke him from behind. And in the center of his chest, just below the dragon’s head, was another, resting atop his sternum like a warning.
A warning for what, Izuku couldn’t say.
“You’ve got a shitty bed,” the man grumbled, knocking the boy back into action.
“Yeah well, I’m a college kid so I’m broke,” he responded. Good, keep him talking. Keep him awake. “I need to clean these. They look like they went straight through so I don’t have to dig out any bullets, but I’ll have to clean them and stitch them up.”
The man grunted and Izuku wasn’t sure if it was permission or not, but he got to work pulling out the necessary tools. “You know how to do all that?”
“I’m a med student,” Izuku answered easily, filling a small bowl beside him with alcohol and dropping his needle and thread into it to soak. “Lucky for you, I guess. If I hadn’t found you, you might have died in that alley.” The man snorted, a twisted sort of smile on his lips that Izuku thought had no right to be as attractive as it was. (Focus, Izu! There is a gangster dying on your bed. Keep it in your pants.) “This is going to hurt. Can I assume you can keep quiet or do you need something to bite down on? Because like, I have neighbors and I can’t have them waking up to a random guy screaming in my apartment.”
Sharp red eyes glared at him and the greenette laughed, raising his hands in defense. “I’m just making sure! Try to keep talking to me, okay?” He ordered as he pulled out a rag and bottle of antiseptic. He began to clean the area around the wounds first, being careful not to make them worse. “I need to make sure you haven’t lost too much blood.”
The guy grunted, grimacing when Izuku began actively cleaning the wounds. “Talk about what?”
“Anything,” Izuku answered easily. Conversation had never been a difficult thing for him when he was working. Sure, Izuku had a pretty bad stutter during normal social interactions, but when he was working, it seemed to fly out the window. He had more confidence, was more sure of what to do, so keeping patients distracted with conversation had always been easy. “Let’s start with your name. Or something I can call you at least if you don’t want to give me your actual name.”
There was a brief silence followed by another hiss as Izuku finished cleaning the wound in the man’s arm. Luckily, none of them seemed to hit anything important and while they were still bleeding, Izuku could tell the flow was slowing down already. Stitching them up and keeping them clean would probably be enough as long as he didn’t strain them.
For a while, Izuku was sure the guy wasn’t going to answer him, or that maybe he did finally pass out, but a quick glance up proved the man was simply staring at him. His red eyes were calculating, like he was trying to pick Izuku apart and see if there was any other purpose towards his kindness. There wasn’t, but Izuku didn’t dwell on the look, instead moving to the next wounds and waiting patiently.
The guy didn’t need to talk to him, as long as Izuku could see he was awake then that was fine.
“Tomura,” he said finally, his voice crackling like pop rocks and Izuku couldn’t help the bright smile that passed over his face.
True, he couldn’t be sure if it was the guy’s real name or not, but it was progress, and that was good enough for him. “My name is Izuku. It’s nice to meet you, Tomura.”
Another grunt. Another stare.
“Do all college kids live in dumps?”
Rude. But he couldn’t really argue, so Izuku shrugged, pulling out the curved needle and sutures needed to close up the wounds. “No, but living on your own can get pretty expensive. I had a roommate for a while but he moved in with his boyfriend and I couldn’t afford rent on my own where we were so I moved out here,” he answered. “This is going to sting. Try and stay as still as you can for me.
Tomura didn’t even tense when the needle pierced his skin, but if the other scars that littered his body were any indication, Izuku assumed he’d been through this plenty of times before. “You don’t have a job or some shit? This part of town isn’t exactly close to any colleges.”
Which was true. Izuku had to take three buses to get to class in the mornings, then take the train back in order to get to the clinic on time for his shifts. Not that Aizawa usually cared if he was late or not, but Izuku cared.
“It was the only place I could afford. And yes, as a matter of fact I do have a job,” he snarked back, tugging at the needle to pull the first wound closed before expertly tying it off. “But I can only work there for so many hours since I have class. I’m just lucky it still counts towards my internship requirements for school. Usually med students don’t get paid for their internships, but Aizawa is nice and without him, I probably couldn’t even afford this.”
Tomura was quiet as Izuku moved to the other side of the bed to work on the next bullet wound, just watching him with those pretty garnet eyes. Like he was some kind of primal cat stalking its prey.
“You help any stranger in alleys, or am I just special?” Tomura asked once Izuku had finished and moved onto the next wound. To the boy’s surprise, the man had barely moved the entire time, not seeming bothered at all by the pain of the actual needle, though Izuku suspected the bullet wounds themselves were quite painful.
Despite himself, the greenette could feel his cheeks heat up at the implications and he gave a nervous laugh. “I guess you’re just special. I haven’t needed to help random strangers on the street yet. I just happened to hear you in the alley and I wanted to help.”
“I could have been a criminal,” Tomura responded sarcastically.
“You are a criminal,” Izuku answered with a shrug. He wasn’t stupid. He may not have met many criminals in his life, but he knew Yakuza tattoos when he saw them. He knew he should have been a bit more nervous at that fact, but honestly he figured he was in some sort of shock at the whole situation. That or it was just that he didn’t think Tomura was going to hurt him. Sure, the guy threatened him earlier, but he didn’t seem all that intent on hurting Izuku since then. “Besides, I want to be a doctor so I can help people. I don’t care who they are or what they’ve done. Everyone deserves to have someone there to help when they need it.”
They fell into a comfortable sort of silence after that. Tomura didn’t say anything else besides a few pained grunts as he sat up to let Izuku work on his back where the dragon curled around and more tattoos came into view.
He could see the beginnings of the hands on his ribs curling around, as well as the thumbs and heel of the palms that curved around his throat. And in the center of his shoulder blades, almost perfectly aligned with the one on his sternum, was another handprint, this one slightly bigger than the others. It intrigued him, made him want to ask questions he knew the other man wouldn’t answer. Made him want to know what they were, what they signified, even if Izuku figured he wouldn’t like the answers. Still, the hands looked like they meant something, maybe something even more important than the dragon itself. Yakuza didn’t get their tattoos for no reason after all, even Izuku knew that.
Still, he kept his mouth shut and got to work on the other side, sitting cross legged behind the man with the bowl and rag in his lap. By the time he was all done and the man’s torso, shoulder, and arm were all wrapped in gauze, Tomura was slumping forward into his own lap, barely able to hold himself up with exhaustion.
“Here,” Izuku said quietly after putting all of his supplies away and coming back with a glass of water. “Drink this, all of it. You need liquids before you pass out and I don’t have an IV to give them to you.”
“Need to leave,” the white-haired man slurred and Izuku had to help him keep hold of the glass as he slowly drank it down. “Can’t stay here. Gotta find Kurogiri…”
But the greenette shook his head and pushed him back down until he was lying flat on the bed. “Not a chance. I’d be surprised if you could even walk right now. You can stay here.” Red eyes narrowed at him, but they were weak and barely focused when Izuku sighed. “I promise I won’t call the police or anything. You haven’t given me a reason to. You can stay here until you can walk at the very least.”
Not that he had much of a choice since a moment later he was unconscious.
Izuku took a long moment to stare at the man now that he was all cleaned up. He was still pale, much paler than Izuku would have liked, but he also had the suspicion that the man was just naturally pale so he had nothing to compare his current state to. And man, he was pretty. In that bad boy sort of way. The kind that Izuku knew could get him hurt if he wasn’t careful.
Not that anything was going to come of it of course. It wasn’t like this random stranger was going to take one look at Izuku and be down for a quick romp, even if he was in the condition to.
Izuku knew he wasn’t anything special.
With a heavy sigh, he pushed himself to his feet and began cleaning up. The bloody rags went into the hamper, the needle and gloves into a disposable bag that he planned on taking to the clinic the next day to dispose of properly. His sheets, no doubt ruined by now, would have to wait until there wasn’t a criminal laying on top of them unfortunately.
It wasn’t until he was finally able to dig into his left over Yakitori that a phone rang. It wasn’t his, at least not a ringtone he would have recognized, but he managed to trace the sound back to Tomura’s pocket. Part of him wanted to ignore it. He really shouldn’t be answering a gangster’s phone while said gangster is passed out in his bed. But…
It rang again.
Carefully, he pulled it out and glanced at the screen. Kurogiri.
Izuku vaguely remembered Tomura talking about finding someone by that name. Maybe…
“H-hello?”
There was a long pause after he spoke, and Izuku wondered maybe if he’d forgotten to actually hit the accept button. He was corrected when a smooth and posh accent slid into his ears. “Who is this and how have you come upon this phone?”
“Is-Is this Kurogiri I’m speaking to?” Izuku asked, just to be sure. He really didn’t want to accidently get Tomura in trouble. Not that he’d be able to prove whether or not this guy was who he said he was.
“It is, how have you come across this phone?”
Izuku swallowed, glancing back down at Tomura in consideration. “Um… I- Tomura was in the alley and he was bleeding so- so I helped patch him up, because he wouldn’t go to the hospital,” he said carefully, not sure about how much he should or shouldn’t reveal to the stranger on the phone. “He was pretty hurt so he’s asleep now, but he mentioned that he um- he needed to find you. That’s why I answered, or I would have just let it ring.”
“I see,” the other man said, something like relief in his voice that had Izuku relaxing a bit. Maybe he didn’t fuck everything up. “My name is indeed Kurogiri. I am grateful for you taking care of my young master, and I thank you for not calling an ambulance. If you would provide me with the address of your location, I can come pick him up. I’m sure you want him out of your hair.”
“Oh,” Izuku mumbled, glancing back down at the unconscious man with a frown. Surprisingly he didn’t mind the other man being there. Izuku was pretty sure he hadn’t had anyone in his apartment since he’d gotten it. Other than Kaachan at least. He lived furthest away so it’d always just been easier for him to go visit friends than to have them visit him. Having someone else in the apartment, even sleeping, actually felt kind of nice. “I can um… I can send you my LINE but I don’t mind him staying, he shouldn’t be moved too much if necessary.”
The smooth voice interrupted him before he could fall back into his rambling, and Izuku snapped his mouth shut. “I have a means of transporting him without too much movement. I will await your message. Thank you-“
He trailed off and Izuku realized belatedly that he’d never introduced himself. “Oh! Izuku! I-My name is Izuku.”
“Thank you, Izuku. I will see you soon.”
Sure enough, not two minutes after he sent the LINE, there was a soft knock at his front door and Izuku went scrabbling towards it, his heart pounding loudly in his ears, only to pause once he’d gotten there. There was no way Kurogiri had gotten there already. What if it was whoever had shot Tomura? Or the cops because they’d seen Izuku drag in a bleeding guy into his apartment? Or-
“Master Izuku, it is Kurogiri. Please open the door.”
The voice was familiar, and before Izuku really registered what he was doing, he tugged the door open.
The man on the other side was… not so much of a man as he was a gathering of purple and black mist wearing a suit. He was tall, extremely so, with a strange metal brace around his throat and his tie knotted in one of those fancy ways that Tenya liked to wear. The way his image billowed in the still air made Izuku wonder what his quirk was, if there was a body underneath all the smoke, if it felt weird when touched. Maybe an air quirk, or a teleportation one. It’d explain how he’d gotten there so quickly-
“Teleportation is an easy enough explanation for now,” the man said, jolting Izuku out of his mumbling and sending heat straight to his cheeks. “Please, take me to Tomura.”
“Right! Right, sorry. I tend to mumble when I’m nervous, or anxious, or- well actually I kind of just do it all the time. Especially with quirks,” Izuku admitted, closing the door behind the man and leading him through the small living room and into his bedroom where Tomura was still asleep. “I umm… like quirks. Anyway, he’s okay for now,” he said as the other man made a beeline for his new… acquaintance? He watched as Kurogiri checked the bandages and wounds, fidgeting in his spot by the door. “He lost a lot of blood, so you need to make sure he drinks lots of fluids and eats plenty. I don’t have any pain killers, but I have these,” he said, holding out a small bottle of pills he usually kept around for emergencies. Kurogiri took them hesitantly, glowing yellow eyes narrowing. “They’re just mild antibiotics, but they should help keep away any infections. I cleaned the wounds, but he needs to keep them wrapped for at least a day. Try not to get them wet for that long and no soaking them until they’re fully closed up.”
The smoke around Kurogiri’s head wavered and Izuku got the impression that the man was nodding along. “You are quite knowledgeable in all this.”
“I’m a med student,” Izuku told him with a shy smile, “and I work at a clinic a few streets over. I was happy to help. Well, I don’t know if happy is the word I’d use,” he said after a thought. “I would have been happy if he’d let me get him to a hospital, but he was pretty stubborn about it all. I’m just glad it wasn’t worse and was something I could do.”
Kurogiri hummed and pocketed the pills as well as Tomura’s phone when Izuku handed it over. “I am grateful all the same. After… what happened, Master Tomura disappeared and we couldn’t find him. We are lucky he was found by someone kind.” Izuku blushed and waved a frantic hand but the man continued before he could argue. “I will take him home now. Is there anything else I need to know to care for him? Normally I would be confident in our abilities, but our family doctor is… no longer with us.”
Izuku had to think for a moment before humming, dutifully ignoring the vagueness of that. “The stitches are going to itch when they start healing. Don’t let him mess with them or they can get infected or come out. Try not to re-cover them once you take these bandages off, but if you need to, use something light that air can flow through so they can breathe,” he instructed quickly. “They’ll need to stay in for about 10-14 days at least, then you can take them out, but only if it looks like they’re healed. I’m not an expert in bullet wounds, but that should be enough time as long as he doesn’t strain himself.” He fumbled around for a moment for a piece of paper before scribbling his number down on it. “Here, if it looks like they’re getting worse or start to get infected or anything, give me a call. I figure he still won’t go to a hospital, and there’s only so much I can do, but I’d rather you come to me than let him die of infection or something.”
Kurogiri blinked slightly in surprise before taking the piece of paper and sliding it into his pocket with the pills. “Very well. Thank you again, Master Izuku. I will contact you when Master Tomura awakens to discuss compensation.”
Compen-
“What? Oh no! That’s not necessary,” he laughed, waving his hands around wildly. “Please, it really wasn’t that big of a deal. I’m just glad I could help. Really.”
The other man hummed, unbelieving, before a large black and purple portal opened behind him. With gentle, practiced momvements, he picked Tomura up into his arms and bowed in Izuku’s direction. “We are in your debt. Goodbye.”
“Bye-“ Izuku started, but the portal closed a second later and he was once again all alone, the only reminder of what had happened being the blood all over his sheets.
“Man, that’s going to be a bitch to get out.”