Despite the bustling bodies of pro heroes, police officers, paramedics and the likes who ran around me, shouting out to their colleagues, I wasn't broken out of my trance. I had walked through the halls of the hideout without noticing where I was being guided. I couldn't recount a single detail of the journey. I didn't remember Dad taking my arm and pulling me along since it was clear I wouldn't move on my own. I couldn't recall any of the soothing words he muttered, too lost in my mind. My mind was a vortex of pain. The slumped bodies of both of my parents flashed through my mind periodically. Hisashi's slit open neck, spewing blood like a gory fountain. My knife standing up at attention in the caricature of my mother's brain. The image wouldn't leave my mind! It was constantly playing on a loop in my head!

Hitoshi, Ochako and Tsu all attempted to talk to me as we were transported to the hospital to be checked over, but I didn't respond or even try to comprehend their words. It went in one ear and out of the other. Briefly, I pulled myself out of my mind for long enough to wonder where Kiri was, but that thought was quickly dispelled when the car we were in passed by a mother and son, both of which coincidently had had green hair. Although their hair was a shade or two lighter than my own. Yet the sight was enough to send me spiralling into a deeper despair than before.

*Ochako's POV*

It was scary seeing Izuku like that. No matter how much Tsu, Shinso or I tried to draw him out of his own head, he didn't reply. He simply stared straight ahead, eyes blank and staring. It was eery. It was so unlike the Izuku I was used to seeing.

I had seen Izuku in some of his lowest moments since starting at UA, of course, I hadn't been there his entire life, but we'd been through enough in our first year of UA. Even though I had seen Izuku at some of his lowest points up to that point, nothing will ever compare to the look of utter despair and brokenness which overtook Izuku's eyes. It was like his soul had been shattered into millions of pieces which wouldn't ever come back together to form the Izuku we all knew.

None of us knew what had caused Izuku to have such a haunted look on his face. According to Shinso, when Izuku had come barreling into the room which Shinso had been in, he had looked scared and sick, but he was responsive and coherent. Shinso had chanced a glance at him whilst Hisashi had been doing the customary villain monologue and seen that he had been zoned out, but he wasn't as bad as he was in the car journey to the hospital.

Then Aizawa-sensei had emerged from an adjacent chamber with an unresponsive Izuku trailing behind him. It wasn't a pretty sight. When the small family of three had emerged from the building, Tsu and I had rushed over to see if our friends were ok, but a look of caution from Aizawa had stopped us in our tracks. Izuku looked like he was in shock.

I noticed that Kiri had been wheeled out on a stretcher and carted into an ambulance before he was rushed away. That did nothing to soothe my already frayed nerves. Izuku was in severe shock and Kirishima was grievously injured. Everybody's predictions that the mission wouldn't go well for us seemed to be coming true. I was beyond angry, I was livid. The hero commission was the one at fault for what had happened to us (as well as the villains of course). If only they had listened and banned us from being directly involved with the case. It wasn't hard to realise that it wasn't a bright idea to send in children in the place of fully trained pro-heroes.

Aside from Izuku and Kirishima, the mission had gone well. Nobody aside from the two of them seemed to be injured, Eri had been rescued, Overhaul had been arrested and the quirk erasing drugs he had been developing wasn't finished yet. Mirio senpai had been hit with one, but he only lost his quirk for 30 minutes.

As we pulled into the hospital, I glanced over at Izuku one last time, his expression hadn't changed one bit. He was still staring off into nothingness with tears which never fell beading in his eyes. I shared a look with my girlfriend and Shinso, just like me, they were extremely concerned for Izuku. He one of the shining lights of Class 1A, the epitome of perseverance and strength.

*Izuku's POV*

When I took notice of my surroundings again, I was mildly surprised to see that I was no longer in the car, journeying to who knows where, but instead I was sat on fresh linen sheets, sky blue curtains surrounding me on all sides. I recognised them from a few months previously. It only took me a few seconds to comprehend that fact that I was in the hospital. Why was I in the hospital? Had I been hurt? When?

Shuffling and muffled voices from behind the curtains captured my attention. I didn't like not being able to see who was moving around outside my field of view, anyone could be concealed by those curtains, ready to attack me and claim my life as their own.

Rather abruptly, the curtains were pulled back to reveal a familiar face. If I had the capacity to do so, I may have smiled at the sight of Shuri-san, but in my current mental state, seeing her caused nothing but blankness. I felt no emotions. My body was repressing every single one of them in hopes of saving me from myself. Saving myself from understanding and accepting what I had done and seen.

"Izuku, it's lovely to see you again," Shuri-san whispered soothingly as she took a seat beside me. "How have you been?"

"Ok," I replied shortly in a neutral tone. Not an ounce of emotion could be garnered from my face or voice.

"Well, that's not true, is it? That's ok though. You don't need to be ok. We don't need to talk about what's happened right now, but we will soon. As well as Aoi-san and Ihro-san. For now, let's just focus on healing your injuries and making you comfortable, ok." Shuri-san smiled sweetly.

I desperately wanted to smile back, no matter how false it would be, just to show her that I understood what she was saying. But my body wouldn't allow me to. It seemed as though I was physically unable to show any form of emotion. This was worse than before. When my mother had died the first time, I had been distraught and depressed, but I was still capable of expressing emotion. But the second time, this time, I was a husk of a human. Nothing around me could possibly pull me from the mess which was my mind.

People came and went and yet I was despondent to them all. Vaguely I recognised that Shuri-san left only to come back soon enough with some food which she set on the tray beside me, she tried to talk to me but eventually gave up and left me to myself. My parents dropped by, eyes wide and speaking to me in a soothing voice, but their words went in one ear and out of the other. I truly did try to respond, but I couldn't find it within myself to speak. When my friends came to visit and when they tried to interact with me, I did nothing but stare at them blankly. The look of complete and utter sadness on Kyoka, Kacchan and Shoto's face when I simply stared at them was heartbreaking.

By the time night fell, quite a few people had visited me, including doctors who told me that I would be remaining in hospital for 2 more days before I was released, they explained to me that I wasn't in a safe mental state and that they feared I would do something awful if I was permitted to leave. I was told in a quiet voice that both Natsu-san and Ihro-san would be visiting me the next day, and yet I didn't care. I didn't care about anything. I was too consumed by the image of my mother and Hisashi's death replaying over and over again in my head, constantly playing on a loop which traumatized me.

Sleep didn't come to me easily. Instead, I tossed and turned all night, tormented by devil induced nightmares and clips of my life. My mother's murder. Shouting at my class in my third year of middle school. Having a panic attack when I thought I saw Hisashi amongst the crowd of reporters. The USJ. My internship with Endeavour. The Training Camp incident. My kidnapping. Finding out about my mum's body being stolen. Going undercover. It all collected in my mind to create a horrific collage of my worst moments. A pod of turbulent emotions swimming through my heart and mind.

Occasionally, positive memories would intercept the negative ones. Memories such as being adopted, becoming friends with Kyoka and Kacchan, my early childhood with my happy family, my first date with Shoto. But these emotions never stuck to my mind as the dark ones did. They were devoured viciously by the overflowing chalice of darkness which resided in the depths of my mind and lurked in my heart.

When morning came, I had hardly slept for an hour altogether, and even that hour was broken up into disjointed fragments. I must have looked awful if the look on Shuri-san's face as she came to give me my breakfast said anything. She smiled at me, but I could see that it was strained. Maybe it was because she could sense my emotions as they flowed off of me in dark waves of despair and depression. I could feel a slight tug at the edge of my consciousness, as if something was trying to cheer me up, even by just a fraction. I knew immediately that it was Shuri-san's quirk at work. I really wanted it to work, for my emotions to lift and for the pressure which bared down on my chest to alleviate, but I still remained as I had been since the previous day. Sadness engulfing me and refusing to spit me back out into the real world.

"Good Morning, Izuku. There's miso soup for breakfast today. Please eat it. Aoi-san and Ihro-san will be visiting together in an hour's time. Ok?" Shuri-san whispered soothingly, despite the fact that her quirk hadn't worked yet, she still sent soothing waves of tranquillity and calmness into my heart. I truly appreciated her effort, but I think that we both knew that it would have little effect on me. The pain which coursed through my body wouldn't abate any time soon. Shuri-san offered me one last smile before she left the room, her ebony tresses swaying as she left.

The hour in which I was left alone passed too quickly and too slowly simultaneously. The minutes seemed to drag when I only had my thoughts and my phone to occupy myself with. Every second felt like an eternity and every thought felt like a novel, written and repeated over and over again. Yet, somehow, when the door opened to reveal Natsu-san and Ihro-san, I craved more time. More space to be left alone. I knew that I would have to talk to them and I didn't want to. The memory of my knife sheathing itself in my mother's decaying brain was too fresh. The memory of Hisashi's blood spraying across my face and filling my mouth with its putrid taste was too new. I didn't want to relive them yet, maybe they wouldn't force me to, but I knew that I would just be delaying the inevitable. I would have to talk to the two of them soon enough about the painful memories.

"Izuku, I wish we could have been meeting under better circumstances." Ihro-san sighed sadly. His bald head glistened in the hospital light. The usually white marks which marked his cheeks and forehead were a dull blue colour with swirls of grey. I was thankful I didn't have his quirk of having my emotions and desires constantly on display via marks on my face. I'm sure that if I did, the marks would have been black with veins of red to represent my turmoil and thoughts of death.

"We're going to jump straight into this, ok?" Ihro-san intoned soothingly. "How are you Izuku?"

"I'm not ok."

I'm sorry this is short (again), my ability to write the story has gone completely out of the window, but don't worry, it won't go on a hiatus or anything, I'm just gonna struggle a bit. I am currently writing a one-shot about Shinso and Aizawa's POV from the last chapter, I'll release it on Christmas. My gift to those who want to read it.