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Doku watches the hit land on the smaller hero, a satisfied smirk on his face as Deku collapses to the ground. He’d only needed to get lucky once, here in this vicious fight in the woods for his freedom. They’d caught up to him, but now it would cost these little heroes everything.
They’d been good, keeping his attacks at bay with their own ranged defenses, whether ice or some trick of Deku’s.
But the opening had finally come and with it the attack collapsed like a house of cards. Instead of coming after him, the fire and ice hero is forced to protect his fallen comrade. Within minutes, the other hero disengages, fleeing with Deku cradled in his arms.
Doku stands completely still watching them go, relishing both his freedom and the satisfaction of knowing that there is nothing anyone can do for Deku.
The clock is ticking, and the hero’s time is nearly spent.
Doku isn’t a wanted criminal for nothing, the highly fatal toxins produced by his quirk has made him very desired by the law.
They can try all they like, but Deku’s story is inevitably over and by the time he’s dead and the other hero can come hunting, Doku will be long gone into the woods.
Shouto rarely pushes his quirk this hard. Hard enough to be on the verge of going too far, yet with Izuku held tightly against his chest, Shouto can’t stop. Won’t stop until he knows they are far enough the hero won’t get another chance at them.
Only then does he slow to a stop, in a clearing that looks much the same as any other, but should be safe enough for them to assess the injury. He pulls his fire forward to counter the cold, noting Izuku’s shivering.
Ever so gently, he kneels down and settles his partner onto the forest floor.
Izuku lets out a pained groan as he’s jostled, and Shouto can’t hold back a sympathetic wince. There’s a large red spot growing on Izuku’s side, the wet seeping into his costume in a wide slash that is rapidly spreading outward.
Shouto sucks a breath in through his teeth.
The blood is spreading way too fast.
He digs through his belt with hands that shake and fingers that tremble as he tries and fails to compartmentalize what’s happening.
Don’t think of it as being Izuku.
Don’t think about the worst case scenario.
Just focus on your training.
Don’t think about the rapidly spreading puddle of blood on the ground slowly soaking into Shouto’s pants as he kneels on the harsh ground beside the person he loves most in the entire—
Fuck.
Shouto squeezes his eyes shut and sucks in another quick breath.
Focus.
There’ll be time to panic later.
His fingers finally grasp at the specialized fabric scissors made for cutting through even the reinforced material utilized in hero costumes and he yanks it out with as much calm as he can muster.
First things first. He needs to see what he’s dealing with.
He makes quick work of cutting Izuku’s costume away, his gaze utterly and completely focused on the task at hand.
He doesn’t notice the way Izuku’s hair is plastered to his head with sweat as a heated flush crawls its way up his face and neck.
He doesn’t notice the pained gasps slipping through Izuku’s lips as he wheezes his way through his inhales and exhales.
And he definitely doesn’t notice the way the skin surrounding the bleeding wound is slowly turning a toxic purple.
Shouto turns abruptly to one side and gags into the grass.
Oh who is he kidding, it’s Izuku. Shouto can’t help but notice every single thing about him.
He may not be a medic, may not be practiced in the healing arts like Recovery Girl or any number of people who could be here now telling Shouto the obvious. But he knows enough to know that Izuku is in dire straits. Izuku’s eyes are glassy as he stares up at Shouto, not really even seeming to see him. Shouto hisses his name urgently as Izuku’s head lolls again.
There’s no time. No time for Shouto to summon help, for him to find anyone that could actually help.
There’s only Shouto, and Izuku bleeding out into the forest floor below them.
Shouto has to act.
“Izuku,” he says desperately, internally begging his partner to respond. To give him something…anything. Shouto has never wanted this, never wanted to sit here and contemplate the choice he knows is the only one left.
The wound has to close. Just bandaging it won’t fix it.
Shouto ignores the voice in his head that tells him that he is only delaying the inevitable. He know’s Doku’s reputation.
He can’t think of that now.
Cannot face a reality without Izuku in it.
Wreathing his hand in flame, he hesitates before he can make contact; taking a deep and steadying breath as if that will help at all.
“Do it.” The words are so faint he barely hears them. His gaze snaps to Izuku’s face, and he can see the settled determination written on it. Through the haze of pain and devastation, even now his beloved tries to help him, to comfort him. To make this an easier decision for him.
The permission is what he needs, and he closes the distance.
Something feels like it breaks in him as he makes contact, as he hears Izuku’s gasp.
Flames die, and the world spins on its axis. Shouto never notices when he hits the ground.
Izuku’s eyes snap open.
He’d been drifting till now, spiraling away as the world turned in circles and blurred around the edges from the very moment that Doku’s poisoned claw had managed to rake him across the side.
He’d known going into this mission what Doku’s quirk was. He’d known as soon as he’d felt the hit that it would undoubtedly be fatal.
A part of him had wanted to laugh as he’d fallen, already picturing the next day's headline. ‘Deku dies to doku in d’bloodstream’
The only thing that had kept him hanging onto consciousness at all was the thought of Shouto, sweet wonderful Shouto, crouched over him in a frantic panic and unwilling to accept that this was the end.
When he’d lit his hand on fire Izuku hadn’t even hesitated.
“Do it.”
If the poison wouldn’t kill him, the blood loss would, and maybe this way Izuku would be able to gather enough awareness back to make his tongue work enough for some actual parting words.
He’d braced himself for the pain.
Heat high enough to cauterize would be enough to have even Izuku screaming so he’d locked his voice behind his teeth, clenched his jaw hard enough to creak because dammit if this really was the end for them, there was no way the last sound Shouto got out of him would be something as devastating as that.
Except…
Except…
Except it hadn’t hurt.
Not even a little bit.
Instead Shouto had pressed his flaming palm down onto Izuku’s side and it had felt…
Warm.
Soothing.
Comforting.
The longer Shouto held it the sharper Izuku felt, awareness snapping back to him so suddenly it felt like he’d been jolted awake even though he hadn’t even been asleep.
Izuku sits bolt upright just in time to catch Shouto as his partner suddenly crumples to the ground.
Shouto is unnaturally warm, fever hot to the touch. Izuku rapidly considers that they really have never seen the consequences to Shouto overusing his fire side since to this day he still retains a reluctance to use it more than necessary.
They’ve worked on it, but the resistance remains. Yet something strong enough to do…what even happened? A quick check of Shouto’s pulse, strong and steady if a bit faster than normal and Izuku takes a deep breath.
Likely quirk overuse, not great but probably not deadly. Izuku however should still be dying from the poison pulsing through his bloodstream. The wound…he should be dead. He knows that. Shifting Shouto so he is cradled in his lap, Izuku’s side twinges.
Twinges.
Not agony, merely twinging. The pain he would expect from an aggravated healing wound. The first look at the injury reveals no sign of the poison that should be tainting its color, and enough healing to not be leaking all of Izuku’s blood onto the ground.
It does appear that he could easily tear it open again if he’s careless.
But Izuku isn’t dying.
Despite all odds and everything to the contrary, he is here, and Shouto is here and they seem to have a chance at tomorrow.
Running his fingers through Shouto’s hair as he radios in for rescue he can only be grateful. Another day with his partner and those he loves is all he could ever ask for.
Who knew Shouto’s heart was so pure that even his hottest first could do no more harm than burn the impurities away.