☤

The roar of the crowd went off like a gun inside her eardrum. As the stretcher-bots approached with Midoriya in tow, May caught up to them and started an assessment. Everyone else surrounding them was blocked out, even the thundering footsteps of a nearby hero. May had one sound to listen for— to hear.

"Hey Midoriya, can you hear me?"

"Hrm."

"Okay, that's alright. MEBO-1, being dictation." May started with a heart rate and noticed the absolute abysmal condition of both arms. "Alert, but not oriented. Indications suggest a head injury. The force of the blast is not accounted for at this time, and most injuries are self-inflicted. Blunt force trauma from debris possible. Both arms appear broken in multiple places, with severe contusions and discoloration. Will have to go in and manually place bones."

May sighed to herself, slinging her stethoscope to take a blood pressure while continuing toward her office. She knew she would possibly have another patient on the way, but his condition was nowhere near as bad as the boy beside her. His blood pressure was on the lower end, which wasn't a good sign. He had done the exact opposite of her suggestions and severely injured the majority of his upper limb.

"B.P. is lower than standard, tachycardic due to exercise, but shock is not discounted for and—"

"Woah, that looks bad." A couple of unknown heroes started hovering by the stretcher-bots.

The voices were starting to barge into her thought process as more bystanders began to look and whisper.

"And—and—"

The noise. May's forehead started to burn, radiating from behind her eyes and infiltrating her thoughts. Her back started to speak to her again.

"—why'd that kid even try against the Todoroki kid—"

The splitting pain of her growing headache blurred her thoughts— too much noise.

May pulled out the syringe from her pocket and injected it through the side of his neck. She shook her head a couple of times before reciting what she did to MEBO-1. "Um, a cervical transforaminal injection given at thirteen-hundred. Monitoring heart rate for—"

"Have you ever seen that done before? It's kind of gross—"

Far too much noise. Nothing will stop. Stop, stop, stop! I can't even figure out what I'm— blood pressure? What number? Ah, I'm losing!

It was making it harder to maneuver for the stretcher-bots.

May whipped her head around, attempting to maneuver around the hordes of people. Soon, it was harder to control her stream of consciousness. She kept a hand on his wrist, feeling for a physical lowering of his heartbeat.

"Hey!" May directed her attention toward one of the bodies in the way. She bared her teeth through her words. "Are you serious? Get out of the way!"

As she waved her arm, people cleared. She decided to bite back at them, sending a glare over her shoulder. "And I would think you people would know better!"

The hot needle started to press further and further down into her cornea. There was a fuzzy feeling that settled in between her forehead as the hall quieted down. She wouldn't even remember the faces of the heroes and hero staff later that day.

Faceless, colorful bodies making her job more complicated than it needed to be. Then again, it was everyone.

After the little encounter, they made it to the office without any other altercations.

"Hey, Midoriya?" May asked while grappling for surgical instruments. "I gave you an injection. Can you tell me what day it is?"

"Sports—Sports festival day," he said quietly. "I'm—sorry. I had to."

"All I asked you was the day of the week. Just relax," May said, then looked at the MEBO still recording. "Orientation is growing stronger— injection proving successful. The patient is no longer tachycardic. Starting an IV at thirteen-zero-five."

May did as she said and started prepping for a more invasive procedure. He was going in and out of consciousness, speaking gibberish every so often.

There's no way my quirk can deal with this kind of shattering. Because of the constant use, his cells might quickly respond to this and heal in the wrong places, leading to permanent deformities. I have to get in there. Once I'm finished with hooking up these monitors, I'll wash my hands and—

"Young Midoriya!" All Might's voice boomed for the second time that day.

Perfect.

May laid out all of the equipment on a small, rolling table. She couldn't decipher the sounds any longer. It all melted into one conglomeration of spiked white noise. All Might, the all-star of the hero world, had inadvertently put a child at risk. What was she going to say? What was she going to do?

He was the hero.

All Might stopped and poofed out of his hero form. He held a breath in his mouth like a bubble, surveying his pupil while rubbing a hand down his face. After a moment of silence, Toshinori shifted his weight, and his shoe squeaks indicated he turned toward her.

"Will he be alright?" He asked.

May continued emptying instruments into the trays, careful not to break anything, but with more clattering than usual. The tools were no longer silver to May. The room no longer harshly reflected the lights above in an array of sterile, muted colors. No— it was red. Pure, blinding red.

More silence.

"Dr. Kataoka?" All Might asked again.

May stopped setting up for a moment, the monitors beeping and filling up any extra quiet. She slowly turned her head to look at him. May knew what she wanted to say, or yell, more like it. But—

He was the best hero.

Staring at him and his gaping expression, she opened her mouth to start spewing sharp words. They hit hard in her hard, busting through her walls and making their way toward her tongue. But when they got there—they wouldn't do it.

"I—"

The red started feathering. Her foot tapped over and over again in place.

She didn't know what to say. Blankness brewed in her head once again. It took her a second to figure out what to say instead of aggressively staring and chewing on her lip.

"He's stable so— um, yes, he'll be... fine," May said, clearing her throat and continuing to prep.

All Might started walking toward May, and her thoughts lost their filter. Now, words poured in through her blocks into her head. Her eyes darted back and forth between the instruments, and she gritted her teeth. May refused to look around the room. Instead, she kept her eyes fixated on the ground as she went to push the cart. When her hands wrapped around the silver handle, a skeletal frame stopped her.

"You know," All Might started but didn't finish.

May peered up through her glasses, her monotone voice relaying what she used to tell obnoxious bystanders. "Your student doesn't have time for this. Just wait outside, and he'll be able to speak with you soon—"

"Dr. Kataoka," All Might interrupted. "It's okay to be angry with me."

May sighed, letting her shoulders slump. She stared down at the floor, her eyebrows lifting while she spoke. The ground shone back at her while All Might's worn shoes pointed in her direction. "I specifically told him not to push too hard. And this is what happens. I'm going to have to go in manually and set the majority of his bones. He's... he's going to scar from this."

All Might stared at her while her tone started rising. Memories of a specific scarred hero danced in front of her eyes. If only he had listened. If only any of them listened, if only she had been a better provider, if only—

"There's only so much my quirk can do, and there comes the point where it's just returning something unusable to its barely usable state. It's.... It's like...." May lifted her head, blinking at the ceiling. "A bird can't stand without legs. But it can stand on two broken ones with significant struggle, and that's what's going to happen here if you don't say something."

Silence again.

All Might raised his brows, a small crooked smile on his face. "That's it?"

"What do you want me to say, huh?" May snapped, letting her hands fly off the handle. Her eyes became wide, and she started listing things off with her fingers. "That you're a terrible teacher? That you're—you're going to kill his hero chances at this rate? That you're encouraging self-destructive behavior? Huh? Is that what you want?"

Then, when she realized what she had done, May recoiled and rushed an apology. "Listen, none of that is true. See your perception of what you want to hear—"

"There we go!" All Might pointed his finger at her.

Stunned, May blinked at him and stopped speaking. All Might took a deep breath and shrugged his shoulders, his eyes drooping rather than squinting.

"Someone has to say something. You put health above all else compared to most people here. Soon it becomes an echo chamber without that kind of input. I know this isn't ideal, and I don't know what I'm doing, but health is the bare minimum, right?"

Was the number one hero asking for her advice? May nodded her head, unable to relax her smudged together brows, and started to wheel the cart toward Midoriya's hospital bed. "Right. It certainly didn't sound like an echo chamber out there."

She gloved up. "People appeared as distressed as I was."

"Ah." All Might waved his hand dismissively. "If that were truly the case, people wouldn't be watching. It's all part of the show."

"Being maimed?" May whirled around, carefully stringing together her next set of words. "That's not it. Heroes are strong beacons fighting for the people. People don't want to see heroes hurt."

"But when they do, and they win, it makes it all the more impressive."

"But Midoriya didn't win."

All Might stared at the kid, watching May begin to place the limbs properly. "This time."

More emptiness filled her thoughts. She honestly didn't know what else to say to All Might. Her exchange was already way out of line, and it would bug her for a long time. So, as she was assessing, she decided to focus solely on that until—

"You really treated me like a bystander right then, huh? You have that rehearsed. The whole 'just wait outside' thing, right?"

May didn't stop her assessment, ignoring his joking tone. "Shouldn't you be worried about your student?"

"You said it yourself—he'll be fine."

"This time," May corrected.

"This time," All Might repeated.

"So." May checked Midoriya's connection points to the machine. "You're going to talk to him about this, correct?"

All Might shuffled forward, standing next to May's rolling stool. "Yeah, I will."

As May got up to wash her hands, Midoriya was awake enough to share a dazed conversation with All Might. It wasn't long after that May was already diving into Midoriya's shattered arms.

It felt scarily familiar. No, it didn't feel.

It was.

She was attaching bones, using assistance from her quirk to fuse tissues.

MEBO-2 stationed itself outside of the office, informing anyone that passed by of what was going on.

"Hey, cute little guy! Is Midoriya okay?" Uraraka's voice echoed from underneath the door.

"Midoriya's treatment plan will be 100% effective. Midoriya, patient number forty-five, is undergoing tissue replacement procedure number zero-zero-four. Please come back in one hour for possible updates," MEBO-2 stated, which May approved of from inside the room with a nod.

The procedure wasn't as tedious as Aizawa's. Though, with Midoriya at such a young age, May worried about his growth. Deep within his bones, osteocytes worked their way to rebuild anything that was missing.

"Status on Epiphyseal Plates," May said aloud to MEBO-1. "Shockingly, intact. Fusion looks to be undisturbed, on track for normal development."

"Add 'shockingly' to the dictionary?"

May sighed. "Whatever."

The number of bandages felt like overkill, but May knew what she was doing. She couldn't trust the kid with anything. As he awoke from anesthesia, May took the time to detail a treatment plan for his mother and made a quick call.

"Mrs. Midoriya? Hello, yes, this is Dr. Kataoka with U.A. High School," May said, listening to hysterical gurgles on the other side of the phone. "Yes, I know. Your son is fine. I'm sending home a treatment outline for you. No, you won't need any medication. Everything is set already. No, he shouldn't have any pain. No, you don't need to come up here unless you—"

The phone call went on for much longer than May wanted.

But the hot needle was gone. The distraction of manual placement allowed for a cool blue wave to wash over May. Instead, the fire that built up inside of her left a cavernous hole behind. Her body felt empty. She just needed to finish the day.

Unfortunately, the pits in her stomach told her it was far from over.

As soon as MEBO-2 was relieved of duty, All Might wandered in once again.

"He'll be awake momentarily, All Might," May said, clicking mindless boxes in her computer checklist.

"You don't need to call me that; it's ridiculous in this setting," Toshinori said, sitting down on a bench with a big smile. "Besides, we're colleagues now!"

"I haven't seen anyone else call you by your real name," May replied.

"You have to know my name since it's in my super-secret records."

"Good thing too." May let a palm rest upon her cheek as she studied the computer screen. Her clicks weren't doing much at that point. She was checking and unchecking the same box over and over. "Did you know people can hack into electronic records now? See all of the quirk information? Your location? I can't believe there are actual quirk databases that the public can access."

"What do you mean?" All Might asked, leaning forward. "Nothing like that exists. Sure, you register your quirk, but those databases are impossible to trace. I know because I helped allocate them."

May stopped clicking, but her heart rate increased significantly. "You did?"

"Yeah, it's a particular risk assessment technique used on average citizens as to how powerful or disruptive their quirks can be. It's how we did background checks on applicants." All Might's eyes narrowed. "Who gave you the idea that they could be hacked? That's misinformation."

'You'll find me under Twice.'

May shrugged. "I must've read it in some dumb article or something."

"You can't listen to those gossip websites, Doctor. Those places are full of a bunch of nothing."

Before May could switch the subject, Midoriya stirred from a nap and perked up immediately out of his bed. May scrambled to her feet.

"Woah, Midoriya, you need to rest a little while—"

"I... I'm fine, Dr. Kataoka. I need to see other matches!" Midoriya said while swaying as he sat up.

May didn't have a chance to respond as All Might swooped in and started a discussion with the now fully alert Midoriya. She decided to retreat from the conversation after receiving the necessary information for discharge.

Her ability to scold had reached its limit.

Even after incessant apologies and pleas to understand why he had to try so hard, May gave him a bone in the form of— "I understand. Just be more careful."

She found herself alone once again, listening to the whir of the computer and the sound of roaring crowds on the television. Filling out Midoriya's charts ate up most of her time, in between assessing less severe injuries. Such as that one kid who's name she messed up— Kirishima.

"Man, that Bakugou never lets up!" Kirishima had said while May administered some injections to his arm. The kid would not stop moving. "Did you see him? I admire his strength and perseverance! Even if it hurt."

"Mhm," May had replied absently.

Though, shortly before the final event for their division, a boy with black hair and glasses wandered in. She turned her head away from the computer. Oh, right. It was the kid from Aizawa's class— the super eager volunteer.

"How can I help you?" May asked. "I haven't had the chance to watch the screen. Are you injured?"

Was this the same kid? He didn't respond right away. He just stood there.

"Hello?" May asked again, ready to get up from her chair. Now it was becoming strange. "If you'd just sit—"

"Can I ask you a question?" He asked in response to her question. It was the same boy. Just quieter.

"Um, sure. Are you sure you're okay?" May said, her shoes hitting the floor with a light clack.

After all the excitement, she wasn't sure how to read his expression. Faces were blurring together.

He skirted the question. "Can you call one of the hospitals? I'm sure you can, right?"

May paused and shook her head once. "Uh—"

"Specifically, can you call Hosu General Hospital?" The kid asked, his voice growing loud.

"I—Um—It doesn't really work like that," May said in-between some confused laughter. "I have some old colleagues, but I can't call them while they're working. Besides, I can't compromise Patient Privacy."

The silence pierced May's throat. If no noise could kill, it'd be that. After a whole lot of nothing from the kid, May spoke again. "Hey, do you want to sit down? I—"

"I've got to go, but um, apologies for interrupting your work. Thank you."

And as quickly as he entered, the kid was gone before she could gather any other information. She couldn't even stop him at the doorway.

May searched through some patient images and figured out the kid's name— Tenya Iida.

She created a file for him, marking the odd behavior and submitting it to her records.

The final event for the younger students was midway through. May didn't pay much attention to it. Instead, the crack above her door almost involved all of her attention. Dark, gaping, and black—it just sat there. Not afraid of what it was. It was much better than staring at her bag.

Slowly, the crumbled wall steadily built again. Thoughts slowed, and extraneous noise started to fade away until there was a blank peace. She was staring up ahead at the darkening crack. It had spidery edges that flared down into the doorway.

The tip of her pen was rubbery between her fingers. She poked at a small piece of notepaper, listening to the satisfying sound of a pen stroke or a crinkle of paper until everything drowned out— until the remnants of the splintered needle siphoned out of her system. Sucked up by that dark crack.

Another whistle tone sounded from her bag.

May pushed the pen down so hard it tore through the paper she held.

Before she had a chance to breathe, stretcher-bots fled through the door.

"Doctor, we waited by the entrance. This kid's out cold," one said. "Didn't you watch it?"

May scrambled out of her seat, flinging a stethoscope around her neck and heading toward the cot. How could I have missed this?

The kid on the cot had half-red hair and half-white hair, along with pretty bad burns lining his arms. It was that Todoroki kid, the one that caused Midoriya to wreck his arms.

"Alright, MEBO-1, set up standard precautions and prepare for a transfer," May stated to the bot, continuing through a basic assessment for Todoroki. "Hey, Todoroki, can you hear me?"

A groan in response. Not bad, but not great.

May could tell this was a situation similar to Uraraka's. She could fix everything with her quirk; it was just going to take some specific intravenous intervention.

"I'm going to ask you two to stay behind again until his bones are stable enough to be transferred," May asked, spotting Todoroki's veins and inserting a needle.

"Again? Fine," one of the stretcher-bots said as if they had anywhere else to be other than there.

Nothing is life-threatening. Just extreme body battering, on a similar level to Uraraka's. Burns are less severe on one side compared to the other. It must have to do with his double quirk. I think that this intravenous transfusion should be enough, but spot work may be needed. Let's see—

The kid bounced back quicker than she imagined. Blood pressure steadied, as well as heart rate. All of it was a testament to his strength. It exceeded May's expectations, as kids this age weren't prone to this sort of resilience unless they had undergone intense cardiovascular training from an early age.

"You must be a super athlete," May said aloud to no one, as his baseline evened out.

The door creaked open after some time.

"Unless you're severely injured, please wait outside until I can see you," May said without looking up from an injection.

The door didn't budge, so May assumed they didn't hear her through her mask.

But, when May turned around to speak, her words caught in her throat. Staring back at her was the flame hero, Endeavor.

"I'm his father. Aren't you supposed to make an exception for me?" He asked in a stern tone, his flaming eyebrows frozen in a perpetually angry state.

His presence demanded an audience. Massive arms crossed themselves against his chest, and he seemed to be constantly looking down because of both his size and his upturned chin. It was as if he didn't even try to appear to level the playing field.

He knew he was three leagues above everyone else.

May sat slack-jawed for a moment, unsure of what to say or do. Now she had to speak to the number two hero? Instead of responding, May just shook her head and disposed of a syringe in the sharps container.

Endeavor sat down on the bench closest to her desk.

It was strange that she had just bought a toy modeled after the person standing right in front of her— with his child in her care. Somehow that was worse than caring for him directly.

"How is he?" Endeavor asked, softer than the previous question.

May returned to her rolling stool, finishing up some final assessments before beginning his chart. She cleared her throat. "He has some minor burns and abrasions from the other student's quirk, but with the assistance of my quirk, he should be completely healed here in a matter of minutes. Your son has remarkable resilience. Usually, I don't see regeneration at this speed, but it appears he's been training for—"

May felt his eyes bore into her soul, so she slowed her speech. "A... um... long... time. It'll only be a couple more minutes."

Endeavor nodded in thanks and continued to sit in silence. May rolled over to her computer and began on Shoto Todoroki's report. Though very similar to Uraraka's, the speed difference was something May made a note of within a special category. May's eyes occasionally skated over toward the flame hero but didn't attempt any initiations of social contact.

But after a couple more minutes, the gruff man spoke. "Do you know why Recovery Girl retired?"

"No, I have no contact with the former staffer," May said while typing. It would help if I did.

"Hm." Endeavor adjusted on the bench, which bent to his weight. "So, my son will be fully healed?"

May narrowed her eyes but continued filling in paperwork. "Yes, that's how it works."

Endeavor paused before his next question, and she could hear his chest heave as a sigh escaped. "How fast is he regenerating?"

"Depends on the injury." May slowed her typing. "Deep tissue and neurological abnormalities would understandably take more time and typically require surgical intervention."

There was another small 'hmph' from Endeavor. May went back to her average typing speed, expecting the questions to slow.

Endeavor shifted again, leaning forward on his thighs. "Are you... a real doctor?"

She stopped typing and sighed. "Yes, I am. I took the tests and everything. It's not an honorary title."

"Ah. Well, I'm glad an actual doctor is caring for my son," Endeavor said, giving a tight-lipped smile before falling back into his usual stance.

I don't think this conversation is going well.

It wasn't long until Todoroki woke up. He bounced right back, as May suspected. The boy didn't speak much, if at all. He responded to the fundamental questions involving pain and medical history. But that was about it.

The interactions between Todoroki and his father were even more peculiar. While recording the last of his discharge information, she snuck glances at the duo. Their conversation, if you could call it that, sounded like it was more between a boss and their employee.

Maybe even strangers.

Shoto had even asked who let his father in, to which May promptly responded with a stammered answer and a nervous laugh. They even left at separate times and parted ways shortly after leaving her office. May had stared out of the doorway for a minute. Trying to understand what she had witnessed was nothing short of uncomfortable and confusing.

The awards ceremony was quick, and over before May had a chance to pack up her things. The Sports Festival spanned over a couple of days, but she knew that the first years would give her the most trouble.

Thankfully, she didn't need to drag anything back to the primary office. All she had to do was unhook her bag and leave. Leaving. She rested her back against the wall of her office, parallel to the door.

She worked her hand into her bag, her heart thumping against her chest, and pulled out the silver burner phone. It was like a snake, constricting around her wrist and not letting her go. May glanced at the door and didn't hear any footsteps.

So, she opened it.

>> (4) NEW MESSAGES <<

Twice

➞ meeting tonight. old N.M.L site. be there.

➞ or don't.

➞ after dark btw. I have equipment. Don't worry.

➞ :)

>> <<

May laid the phone against her chest, peering over at the door again. The walls were closing in again. Did someone see her? Her hand flung up to her forehead, sliding down her face as her eyes rested on a dark corner of the room.

She needed to get out of there.

She needed to go home.

She couldn't be there anymore.

Shoving the phone into her bag, she flung open her office door and hurried down the hallway. She could feel her hair loosening and fall out of her bun. May peered over her shoulder every once in a while. Was he here? Watching? Like he has before? No, that's impossible. His face must be on... on something.

Her pace was unprofessional, but it didn't matter. Her thoughts broke through the wall again, more poorly built than the last one, and flooded her senses with bubbling uncertainty. Nausea hit her like a train as she stumbled down the hallway at a fast walk. Luckily, people were leaving or just hanging around and speaking. No one paid much attention to her. At least she hoped.

People couldn't ask questions. What would she say?

And what did he mean he had equipment? What was going on? How could he have equipment? At the old N.M.L. site? Isn't that an abandoned medical supply warehouse? Was she going there to die?

The late afternoon sunshine burned into her eyes as she exited the stadium. It wasn't a bad walk. It wasn't bad. If she ran, she could make it there without anyone seeing her. Would someone see her? Another person that saw her on the database? Did they know where she lived?

Her heart jumped around her chest, and she knew she had to rest before heading home. Was it skipping? Arrhythmia? Was she losing control of her own body? She already felt like she had run a marathon in those short minutes. But as she leaned against a railing, footsteps approached.

"Yo, Doc! What a day!"

May gripped her fists together and turned around, seeing the two announcers heading her way. She rocked on her heels. "Yeah! Um, busy!"

"You look like you've been through the wringer. Wanna join us for some food? A lot of us are heading to the same place," Present Mic said, adding in some finger guns. "You've had to do the most work out of all of us."

Aizawa was close behind, hiding behind his black hair and bandages. Yet, he didn't say anything. Not even a protest. Instead, he nodded in agreement.

May took a step backward. Did they suspect her? Of doing something wrong? Is that why they asked?

May lifted a hand to her forehead, vigorously shaking her head. "Um, uh, no, no. I've got some, uh, research to do. In fact, I—I'm going to be late for some lab results. They're on my computer at home some, uh, personal study."

Strands of hair had fallen in front of her face, as Yamada tilted his head and Aizawa continued his dead stare.

May motioned behind her and flexed her jaw. "So, I've gotta go. Like now."

"Oh, well, can't you just hang for a bit of water or somethin'?" Yamada asked, shrugging his shoulders. Yet his eyes had narrowed, and they weren't changing.

Before May could respond with a resounding 'no,' a suited man exited the stadium's business section. May's stomach dropped to her knees, and she froze in place. Soft orange hair caught in the sunshine.

It was too late.

Yamada lifted a hand over her face, waving it back and forth. "Hello— doc? Are you sick? Look a little pale?"

May couldn't process anything else because she had accidentally caught his eye, and he had waved. The man in the suit. The man that she buried in Medical School. And his smile. And their yelling match.

That was so long ago. Why now? Why would he be there? In the exact spot?

"I— I've got to go," May said, backing away without breaking eye contact with the man happily waving to her.

"May! No way! Is that you?" Hiroto's voice caused May's blood to freeze over.

She couldn't move.

Why couldn't she go?

Nowhere to run.

Yamada turned to the side, and a smile now danced across his features. "Enomoto! Been a long time. Wait, you two know each other?"

May couldn't form words, standing in a trance as Aizawa, Yamada, and Hiroto crowded in front of her. Suddenly, she couldn't breathe. She hadn't seen him since that night. Why was he so happy? Had she remembered things differently?

The street became the eye of a tornado, dizzy and spinning within her vision.

"Yeah, we do," Hiroto said with a small smile. "I've been trying to contact you! It's been so long. I didn't realize you worked with heroes."

May didn't respond, her gaze shifting over toward the street lamp above his head. It flickered in an attempt to keep up with the clouds overhead.

Was that night going to be her death?

Was it some sort of redemption?

"I've wanted to talk for a long time," Hiroto said with warmth, but it fell upon cold ears. "Hey, are you okay?"

Their voices drowned themselves out in her head. May took a step back, unable to say anything. Her ears were ringing as the noise died down, and the sun burned black spots in place for faces.

Something so deep within her stomach that she had repressed a while ago flooded back. It turned her insides as if a million eyes were staring down upon her. All the emails and messages she ignored. Their last interaction was only because of her unwillingness. The queasiness grew and grew until her vision was no longer straight.

Yamada exchanged a glance with Aizawa, who's gaze didn't change.

Then, the noise returned.

She studied their faces. Her jaw tightened in an attempt to keep everything inside, and her chest balled up into a knot of twine. Nothing could relieve the pressure. None of the words that fell out of their mouths made sense or processed. She backed away, unable to banish the fuzziness that started to fall over all their faces.

May's breathing echoed in her head like a metronome, and her heart was the bass drum. It was like she was grappling to get out of a towing sea where the waves would pull her further and further out.

What if it was them? Why was Hiroto there? Was it because he worked for Endeavor? Why were they standing there? Staring at her? What did she do? Why was all the attention on her? Why—

Questions circled her head like brackish water circling a drain. Before she realized it, she had pushed her way through the crosswalk and had jogged halfway to her apartment with a partially wet face. From—

Her tears?

And as she slowed to a walk, she caught her breath next to a building. She heaved a couple of times, though nothing came of it. May let her hand rest on the cracked stone. Her free fingers released her fogged glasses from her face, and she sniffed. The phone in her bag lit up with vibrations.

Trudging home was more like a death march. The hot needled had returned, starting to poke at her eye again. This time, it dared to probe even deeper.

When she eventually reached her door, falling inside, the shattered mug greeted her in the sink.

And she sunk to the floor, letting the internal monsters eat her alive for the rest of the early evening until her clock became red for the next patient.

— hello! New update hehe! I hope you enjoy! If you would like a song, I love the Lovely cover by Seraphim. Thank you for reading and I hope to see you at the next chapter! —