☤

This paperwork is really stacking up.

May's gloved hands tended to the scuffed and bruised students from the first couple of events for the Sports Festival. The latex rolled against her wrists and left red marks.

Some of the first years had tears in their eyes and sat in complete silence. Others engaged with one another about how they would raise their standings next year. Many of them had cleared out by the introduction of the third and final event.

None of them had severe injuries, luckily. Many were roughed up and clearly, weren't prepared for the trials they were about to face.

It must be different actually experiencing it rather than watching it on television. As a kid, she wasn't interested in auditioning for hero courses. When she watched the Sports Festival, she would find herself drifting away from the actual events and focusing more on how everyone looked. Not their clothing, no. 

But their faces.

She found herself searching the television screen for the same masks of determination during the first event. Yet, all she could see were children. Afraid, nervous, desperate to seek the approval of strangers. A sea of competition, and some would drown within it. Their faces would slowly fade into the white noise of the crowd. And thoughts, though bubbling under the surface, wouldn't attach themselves.

While she finished up some human patchwork, a few stragglers caught May's eye. She focused on her own mask. Not one of determination, but one of neutrality.

"Who do you think will win this year?" one girl asked another, brushing herself off as they started toward the infirmary exit. Her purple-haired seemed to dull under the harsh lighting.

Cold water washed over May's hands.

"I don't know. I think it's gonna be one of those three boys from class 1-A. They're so strong. What do you think?"

Their voices trailed upon exiting the room, echoing down the cavernous stadium hallways. May exhaled and lightly splashed her face with water. Her mind was desperately blocking out any thought. She was trying not to glance at her work bag where her second phone dinged. The tone— a small whistle— was so deeply ingrained in her thoughts that it sounded as though it was ringing constantly. 

Before thoughts could snake around her self-forged wall, the television screen started to scream again. The crowd's roaring seared through her eardrum and Midnight's harsh voice sliced through them. It lit up the room, discussing the rules of the one-on-one battles.

May wiped her hands while her eyes soaked in the bracket. She could recognize that fluffy cloud of purple hair from anywhere.

Shinsou? Versus—Midoriya?

Cheers erupted from the audience. May crumpled up the paper towel, which was soft underneath her fingertips, and didn't dare to tear her eyes away from the screen. Before anyone could make a move, Shinsou and Midoriya started speaking with each other. She couldn't understand what they were saying as Present Mic yammered on over the event.

Midoriya froze shortly after.

What was Shinsou's quirk again? Brain-washing? Impressive.

May paced back and forth, watching the struggle between the two boys. Maybe that Shinsou kid had a chance against the other heroes. He was the only general education student to make it to the one-on-one battles. Her hopes for the quiet kid were soon shot.

What? She loved a good underdog story.

When Midoriya broke through Shinsou's quirk, she barely raised her eyebrow. Sure, it was shocking he could overcome a quirk like that. She wasn't sure how that was possible, but with the sheer power behind his quirk and the vague descriptions gifted by All Might, she wasn't going to waste time deciphering it. The mystery of All Might's condition was enough to keep her reeling.

The fog in her mind kept any shadows of analysis at bay. Wading through the basics was giving May a headache anyway.

But the kid injured his finger—again.

May slapped her forehead, a jolt of hot energy rushing through her veins.

The first student to wander in from the match was Midoriya.

"Hey, Dr. Kataoka! Um, sorry about my finger," he said, settling himself on a hospital bed.

"I didn't expect anything less," May said with an exhale. Then, she cleared her throat while sliding on a new pair of gloves. "I know you always—erm—try your best."

His finger crunched underneath her light touch. May held her breath, reaching for a small syringe sloshing with scarlet liquid. Midoriya had started talking about the match's dynamics, which was the absolute least of her worries. May nodded along, responding with a 'yeah' or 'mhm' every other word while she made injections near his metacarpal joints.

"I know I have to work harder—"

"Young Midoriya!" All Might's voice boomed throughout the room.

May's eyes bulged at the sudden entrance, keeping her hand steady even though her spine fled her body. She leaned back and set down the syringe in exchange for some bandages.

"Hello, All Might. Long time no see," May said with a suppressed smile.

As he shut the door, Toshinori became a skeleton again.

All Might gave a small laugh, rubbing the back of his head. "Um, yeah—uh—Midoriya, about that match."

They started discussing Midoriya's match. May assumed that All Might wanted to speak in private about his own condition. Rather than in front of the kid, of course. Their conversations centered on Midoriya's quirk, which appeared to have a lot of unknowns. She listened but focused on the circular wrapping motions. Not too tight, not too loose. Repetitive. The click of May's own wrist echoed in her thoughts, louder than it ever would be physically.

Over and over and over—done.

After wrapping Midoriya's finger carefully, she decided to interrupt their conversation for a short second.

"Excuse me," she interjected, and both of their heads turned to face her. "Midoriya, you must be careful with your finger. Even though it's mending, it needs time. Take care during your next match. It's not worth it to permanently damage your joints."

Even though her stare was stern and burning through his bright eyes, the message didn't appear to resonate. He nodded and reassured her with promises that were about as full as an empty glass. A hot needle started to burn behind her eyes, and she couldn't muster the willpower to discuss it further.

May rolled over to her computer and opened Midoriya's chart to do some basic reporting. The two started their exit, heavy footsteps. The whirring of the computer glazed over her mind like polish on a wrought iron fence. She was hoping that it would completely occupy her thought space.

But, one pair of footsteps stopped.

"Dr. Kataoka," Toshinori started.

May didn't look away from the computer. "Hm?"

"There's been very little change. I'll come back for a full report later. I'm sorry I've got to go like this." His voice sounded sincere, so May swiveled to face him.

"I understand. Can't be easy to make Doctor appointments after everything that happened," she said, nodding once. "Just visit me when you can."

Toshinori nodded, then lingered in the door. She watched his eyes narrow for a moment.

"You okay, Dr. Kataoka? None of us expected that. And I know Nezu and myself never intended for you to be thrown into a situation like that—at least, so soon," he said.

May returned to her computer quickly, her finger gliding across the keyboard. The plastic was smooth, and the ridge along the 'f' key was where her attention focused on. "I'm doing fine. I never had comprehensive field training in Medical School, but it felt like a hectic emergency room. Nothing I haven't seen before."

"Hm, alright. You like roller derby?"

May whirled around and searched his expression. "What?"

"You know, where they bang around the skating rink and end up with nasty bruises? Like the ones on your hands and fingers?"

Her stomach fell to her knees, the hazy cloud covering her mind darkening.

Heart beating faster and faster, every wall was staring and coming closer, closer, closer in, and she could feel his empty stare. Was it empty? Was it full? What did he see? What did he know? Everything was circling, spiraling like water in a drain. What was she going to do? Do, do, do—

May smiled.

"Oh, yeah. These." She held up her hands. "I slipped on a wet floor and tried to catch myself on a countertop. Took down a couple pots with me. My iron deficiency isn't very kind to me."

Toshinori chuckled to himself. "How many casualties?"

"Three pots and a coffee mug."

"That's a massacre, Dr. Kataoka," he said with a beaming grin. "I'll stop by very soon."

Before May could say anything else, Toshinori exploded into his hero form. He swung open the door and held up a hand.

"Endeavor! How about a quick chat with an old friend?"

The door slammed shut.

May faced the computer screen.

The blue light hurled itself at her glasses. She folded her hands, propped up her elbows on the desk, and then rested them against her lips. The vents kicked on, filling the air with a low hum. She could still feel the breath in her chest. A hurricane trapped in her lungs, growing and expanding. It was forcing her heart to escape through her fingertips. The storm pushed further upward, the lump in her throat grew as the air was sucked down.

The dull roar of the crowd started to grow. A new match was beginning. As soon as it started, it ended. May didn't even bother to look. Something about a massive ice pillar? The next match was announced, and a new waiting period occurred. 

No thoughts, she promised herself. She clicked on the mouse over and over again. Tick, tick, tick, tick. Then her eyes skated over toward the crack above the door. It was so deep and dark, a black hole. Another one? Out to get her too?

Her head throbbed.

No, no. No more of that.

Clicking and more clicking ensued. The next match also ended in a considerably short time. No-one stopped by her office, indicating that they all didn't need immediate medical attention. The second to last match for the first round was announced.

Click.

Then, her door opened again. May lifted her head, and her eyes widened.

"Shinsou?"

The purple-haired kid was holding his back and gave her a weak smile. "Hello, Dr. Kataoka."

"Why didn't you come in earlier? Woah, do you need help? Hold on." May got to her feet—sliding on a new pair of gloves—then approached him. She held onto his shoulders and guided him toward the bed.

"I hit the ground pretty hard," Shinsou said, his breath catching in his throat. "I had to sit for a little while before walking over here."

When May started checking his abdomen and back, she caught a look at his face. A conflicted expression, one stuck in an endless struggle between defeat and pride. She couldn't think of anything to say. Instead, in their silence, she let her medical knowledge poke through her mental block.

Okay, I see some bruising but nothing that would require further care. Probably going to be sore. It probably caused a slight spasm upon impact. I guess I could just give him treatment so it wouldn't be so bad to deal with it. That'll just solve the problem immediately. Nothing else is damaged, however. I—

"Did you see it?"

His voice was smaller, and May stopped her running mind. "I did."

She turned away and started toward the fridge. The soft white Styrofoam was light in between her fingers, the liquid sloshing like a thick ocean contained in such a small bottle. No ships, though. While she collected this, she heard nothing.

May returned to him and opened her mouth to explain what was happening, but Shinsou interrupted her.

"Did it seem possible?"

His eyes were wide, and he exhaled between his words. May gripped the cup tighter and tried to think of something. Anything to say to this kid. Why was she put in this position? Didn't they have mentors? But her words were invisible -- a blessing and a curse.

What her professors used to repeat jumped out at her and slipped out of her mouth before she could control it.

"Anything is possible with quirks. Now, the damage you sustained wasn't bad. Mostly just rocked your system. This will ease the discomfort, but you're okay," May said, not even bothering to stay on any topic for very long.

Shinsou accepted his treatment and leaned back on the bed. She slid over to her computer, starting on his report. May was retreating back into her own silence. Recording what she noticed, what she did, but his voice cropped up again.

"Do you think I could've won if I wasn't so careless?"

May stopped typing and took a deep breath. "I don't know the answer to that."

When she turned her gaze to him, she didn't see some stoic teenage boy with very little to say. Instead, she saw someone else... someone that needed more than what she could offer— kind words and encouragement, two things that she found very difficult to accomplish.

May lifted her fingers to her chin.

"You did really well, though," she said, watching him look away from the cup in his hand. "You could compete with top-level students. There's no reason you should feel upset. You didn't lose; you caught people's attention— and that's winning."

Shinsou didn't say anything else to her after that. But his shoulders relaxed, and he sipped lazily. May rubbed her forehead, hoping it was the right thing to hear. Leaving him alone was the best course of action. She ran out of her encouragement juice and would be screwed if he asked her anything else.

But he left the office with better posture and his hands in his pockets.

Maybe that counted for something.

May glanced at the television set. Two other students she recognized from Aizawa's classroom were facing off. That girl, Uraraka, and that aggressive boy, Bakugou. She straightened up in her chair.

The match was a blur to her-- a complete flurry of violence and destruction with rocks and punches and flames. She almost couldn't breathe as she watched them fight so hard. Her stomach did flips and flops. They were students, teenagers, kids. Fighting tooth and nail to win the approval of a whole stadium.

But that's how it was. And one day, they would be fighting real dangers for approval from the public.

Before May knew it, she was at her feet again. It was out-of-control, and no one was going to stop them. Why was no one stopping them? Uraraka could barely stand. It was okay, though. No one's been seriously injured during the Sports Festival before, right? That's what the records said. It was hard to look away. This girl wouldn't give up. Fire raced up and down May's arms while she tried to think of the injury extent.

Her last-ditch effort failed, and as Midnight presented Bakugou as the winner, May hurried out of the room.

The stretcherbots were efficient in their own right, but she wanted to meet them halfway. It didn't look good on screen. A jolt rattled through her heel and up her leg with every step. Other heroes lingering in the hallway were glued to the other monitors, their attention momentarily snagged by May's footsteps.

"Yeah, that didn't look good. It's no wonder the medical team is already heading that way."

"Wait, what? Recovery Girl retired?"

"Didn't you know? Maybe I got the memo early or something. Nezu sent one to my agency a couple of days ago on behalf of her."

May gritted her teeth and continued toward the arena, even though eyes were on her back. Nezu had sent out an announcement to agencies about Recovery Girl's retirement and her involvement. Did he mention her?

She could still hear their murmurings from a distance but didn't dare to turn her head and look.

The stretcherbots emerged from the bright white light of the stadium. They weren't moving at a rapid pace, but Uraraka was weakly curled up on the make-shift cot. May met up and started immediately on collecting a set of vital indicators.

"Hey there, Uraraka. Can you hear and understand me?" May asked, leaning over to assess any exterior damage.

"Yeah—yeah. Dr. Kataoka?" Uraraka's eyes opened into slits.

May pulled a pen-light from her pocket and checked each eye, then both for the pupillary reaction. Both responded at standard rates, though the left was slow.

Maybe she has a slight concussion.

"That's me. Can you tell me your name?" May started her list of questions.

"Uraraka Ochaco," she replied with a small groan.

"Can you tell me what day it is?"

"Sports Festival Day."

That's good enough.

The room was coming into view.

"I'm gonna take your pulse during this last set of questions. Where are we?"

May waited for a response to the question while checking Uraraka's wrist for a radial pulse.

It's fast, but she just finished doing something very physical. Everything will be elevated, but blood pressure will be the telling factor. I see some external abrasions and small cuts, but nothing extreme. I see marks of early bruising and erythema. I don't feel anything broken, but I'm not manipulating much—

"The Arena for the—the Sports Festival."

"And what were you just doing?"

"Battling Bakugou—and I—and I," she choked up, "And I lost."

"Hey, hey, can you stare straight ahead for me?" May tried to get her attention. Emotional outbursts wouldn't help anyone. "Can you count backward from one-hundred for me?"

"O—Okay. I can—I can do that."

As Uraraka started counting backward, May continued to assess and started a blood pressure record as soon as they entered the room. It only took a couple of moments, but it was slightly elevated. It wasn't dropping, which was a good sign.

"Keep counting, okay?" May then turned her attention to the stretcherbots. "Stay behind for a minute, and don't move. We're going to wait a minute before transferring. Let me start an IV first in case there are any broken bones. Copy?"

"Copy. I'm not paid enough for this."

May raised an eyebrow at the sassy bot and didn't acknowledge it with anything else. She flitted around the office, gathering the necessary materials.

"Uraraka?"

The girl opened an eye while her counting had started to level off. The adrenaline and cortisol levels were starting to even out, leading to extreme exhaustion.

"I'm going to start an IV. You're going to feel a slight pinch, and then it'll just be a little cold. Sounds okay? Tell me if you start feeling any worse or any better."

Uraraka was a harder stick than Midoriya was, which was an interesting finding that May made a note to detail later. She didn't deduce it to receding veins. Some people were more challenging to start than others. May's mind was strictly on the matter at hand, her emotions shoveled down.

Using a clipboard and a notepad, May decided to write down her findings and let Uraraka rest rather than dictate them aloud.

Heavy abrasions and weakness. We'll have to do a grip test once she's in a better state. Her left pupil was slower to respond, but not by much. Indications do not all support a concussion, but circumstances do —possible fractures in arms from bracing and possible sprain in the ankle. An X-Ray was not determined necessary due to immediate intravenous intervention. No shatters, so everything should heal within minutes—

May stopped writing and saw Uraraka resting peacefully on the stretcher.

One transport bot checked an imaginary watch.

She gripped the pen tighter than the Styrofoam cup earlier.

"Dr. Kataoka?" Uraraka asked with her eyes closed.

May set down her clipboard and hovered over the cot. "Yes?"

"Can you—can you call my Dad? I—I want him—to know I'm okay."

May's chest tightened. It reminded her of something. Something that broke through like a beam of light. Red light. Stop Lights blurring by while she sprinted home? No, something else. Something so familiar.

So familiar.

Familiar.

Silver Door Knobs?

Hospital rooms?

Out of time? But—I'm not out of time.

Not today.

"Can you, Dr. Kataoka?"

It took a second for May to process what she was saying. Then, May cleared her throat and shook her head. Thoughts were leaking through. The day needed to be over as soon as possible.

"No need. You'll be able to do that for yourself in a couple of minutes." She forced a smile with her words and returned to her clipboard.

Why was everything exploding in her mind like fireworks? Threatening to go off like a bomb beyond the wall?

Instead of writing again, May turned her back to Uraraka and glanced at the dark crack above the door. She resisted the urge to tap the pen against the paper.

The smooth white paper caused her blue gloves to crease. The crack was still dark, almost shifting into an inky blue. She had normal time, and it was green.

It was green.

May slid into her office chair and started copying her written information into Uraraka's file, as well as any other details she noticed. And May was right. It didn't take long for Uraraka to emerge from her exhausted state. In fact, it was much faster than she even anticipated.

"Am I good to go yet?" Uraraka asked, her chipper demeanor returning as her cuts and bruises disappeared.

"Just hold up a minute. Your body needs a second to rest," May said. "I can help you over to a more comfortable bed."

"Yeah! I'd like that. This thing is hard as a rock!" Uraraka motioned to the stretcher.

After gently assisting her to the bed, Uraraka sat on the edge even though May insisted that she lay down. The stretcherbots were dismissed and muttered about their thankless job. Another physical exam took place after twenty minutes of Uraraka resting.

"Have you seen a lot of people today?" Uraraka asked while May checked her leg and ankle.

"Quite a few. Can you wiggle your toes?" May said, shoving any auxiliary thought into a neat little box next to her mental wall. There was another silence as May moved on to the other leg and then worked toward her arms.

Uraraka watched May, then opened her mouth. "I really liked your presentation. Rescue heroes inspired me to go down this path."

"Did they?" May asked, not paying much attention. Everything else about her arm looks great. We'll do a grip test soon. We'll—

May realized she left her patient hanging, so she spoke while starting a new assessment on the forearm. "Who's your favorite hero?"

"My favorite hero? Oh! I don't know. I really like and admire Thirteen. Aren't they just so cool? I'm so happy they're okay."

May regretted asking the question, biting back a small lump in her throat and any images of an exposed back. Tissue that was pink and hot to the touch. And someone's life force between her fingers. And her own life. That could've been so quickly taken... so easily squashed... and for what? For what?

For what?

May snatched herself out of the alleyway. "Hm, yeah. They're pretty cool. And really strong, let me tell you that."

Silence fell again. Uraraka continued watching as May checked her fingers and joints, asking basic commands along the way.

Uraraka started softly humming. It wiggled through May's ear and began to grate on her nerves. Each high note forced that hot needle further into her eye socket, causing a painful explosion behind her glasses.

May forced a smile through the building sensation of red-hot anger, one that curled through her throat like cigarette smoke and painted her insides scarlet. It was a rising feeling for no apparent reason-- a sense that wanted to hurl itself out and shut off all noise.

"I'll let you rest here for just a couple of more minutes, then I promise you're free to go," she said.

After a couple more minutes of observation, Uraraka left the recovery office with a smile and a wave.

And as May went to finish her paper notes for records, the ink bled onto one of her letters. It made it more sloppy and thicker than the other ones.

Damn it.

May held the pen tightly with a fist and noticed that the plastic pen cap had a bend in it.

Damn it all.

She slammed the clipboard on her desk and then threw the pen to the opposite wall. Her heartbeat was threatening to leap out of her chest. Her head felt like a balloon, and it was building pressure with every second. Yet, it was trapped by a rubber band constricting her temples.

"I need a second," May said to no one.

She headed toward the bathroom after shutting the door carefully. Anyone that walked by gave her a quick look then continued with their conversations. And she knew what they were thinking. And it made her vision red.

May burst through the bathroom door and approached a mirror. Her hands gripped the porcelain sides of the sink. One light overhead flickered on and off, leading to dark corners at the edges of the walls.

While studying herself in the mirror, she let some of her thoughts free.

You need to pull yourself together. It's not your place to get angry. And about nothing! Just do your job. Worry about your life, your memory, and your patients later.

She turned on the sink and watched the water spewing from the faucet. It swirled before going down the drain. May wiped her face, noticing sweat accumulation on her brow. The other faucets nearby dripped and echoed into their designated sinks.

Time's fine. It's green. These kids will be fine. There's nothing you can do. You'll be fine. No one knows! No one knows what you'll be doing for this.... this man... Am I going to die tonight? Tomorrow? Or will nothing... nothing happen. Nothing.

There was that word again. It bounced off the hallows of her brain and dove into her esophagus, causing her stomach to ache. Nothingness. Her whole job was to do something when someone could do nothing. Now it's reversed.

Her hands began to tingle and tickle like something was gliding across. She glanced down and brushed at her hand. The tingling didn't stop. She brushed again and again and again until she was slapping her hand.

Then, relief.

I'm losing my mind.

May brought her hands up to the sink bowl again and stared in the mirror. She willed calmness to flow through her mind and quench any angry fires—deep breaths in and deep breaths out. Something creaked toward the back of the bathroom.

She stopped focusing on her face and searched the mirror.

Her heart started to drum against her chest.

The bathroom entrance door swung open, and a shadow reflected back in the mirror at her. May let out a small screech and leaped backward, tumbling to the bathroom floor. She raised her elbow and looked at the shadow. Bunny ears caused May's elbow to relax.

"Woah! Doctor, right? Didn't mean to scare you so bad!" Miruko exclaimed, squatting down. She extended a hand as May attempted to catch her breath. "I get it. The bathroom's a good place to chill. Not on the floor, though."

May took Miruko's hand and got to her feet. "I apologize. I guess I'm a little—er—jumpy is all."

"That was impressive, not gonna lie. You got like two feet of air in that jump. Were you a track star?" Miruko's stark white hair fell across her chest as she put her hands on her hip.

"Um, ha, no, um—I should get back to the office," May said, stumbling over her feet. She could feel the heat spreading from her cheeks and into the tingling of her fingers.

"Yeah, you're busy today, right? Kinda wild that they make the kids battle in front of such a large audience. It's good prep. Nothing will compare to those cameras and bystanders, though," Miruko said, nodding her head once. Then she perked up. "Hey, are you gonna do uh, what's it called, agency contracts?"

May paused, her eyebrows furrowing. "Agency contracts?"

"Like Recovery Girl? You're her replacement, right? Ever since the whole USJ thing, many agencies have been asking Nezu about your involvement. True medical heroes are almost impossible to find. My agency hasn't managed to find one, well, ever. I don't work in teams, but I don't know shit about medicine, so it'd be cool if you were heading that way."

"I'm—I'm—I don't plan on doing that, sorry," May said, rubbing the side of her forehead. People knew about the USJ? Too many questions started to float around her head. "I still have a lot of work to do before I—um—stay here. You know, I just really got to go."

As May inched toward the door, Miruko shrugged. "' Kay. Catch ya around, Doc. If you change your mind, you'll be hearing from me."

She closed the door and moved toward the nearest wall. May put her head in her hands. It was as if everyone had a ship in the sea of life, and she was given a kayak. Her whole plan was unraveling before her eyes.

What's happening to me?

As she made her way back to her office, she saw more crowds around the monitors. People were murmuring about the attacks occurring in the arena. May peeked over their heads, and the splitting headache now radiated from the back of her head down her neck.

May marched back to her office and watched as her screen erupted in a flash of ice and fire. May couldn't stop watching the absolute mess of violence and sparks.

Wait, what? This kid has two quirks? It said so in his file, but I wasn't sure!

Before May could understand anything else that was happening, the television screen erupted into a cloud of dust, and her feet rumbled underneath her. The MEBOs whirled around the room as May grappled for the instrument cabinet, making sure it didn't fall over. Once the shockwave subsided, May hurried toward the television again to see what the announcers were saying.

It didn't sound great.

"MEBO-1, follow me with dictation protocols."

May gloved up again, letting the gloves slap her wrist much harder than usual. A full syringe was added to her pocket. She didn't wait for the dust to clear and slammed the door behind her. People moved out of her way and stared her down as she headed toward the arena.

"Hate to be doing her job right now. What's her quirk again?"

"Beats me. But that kid's gotten hurt twice now. Well, we don't know for sure but come on. Against Endeavor's kid? No way he didn't."

"Woah! The dust has cleared! Midoriya is pushed out of the arena and looks bad. Hey Doc, if you're listening, this is your cue."

May took a deep breath, stretching her arms out. She moved her neck from side to side. It was a desperate attempt to allow the wave of calm to devour her whole. The light of the arena burned her eyes as she stepped out, seeing the stretcherbots in the distance.

Prepare for anything.

— hello! thank you all for reading! I know it's been a while since the last update but I hope you enjoy! Lots of life things have happened. I hope to remain consistent now. So much love. —