章節 11: Liminity 2.01
[A/N: Word Count - 3844 words]
********
It was a peaceful night outside, relatively quiet actually. The moonlight shone above, and the stars twinkled all around.
The air was cool, crisp, and welcoming.
Yet, inside the carbon fiber Pagani that soared across Japan's skies, invisible to those below, "SexyBack" by Justin Timberlake was on full blast. The bass thumped throughout the car, and Salem and Oliver bobbed their heads to the beat.
Still wearing his aviators, Salem sang in his posh British accent (which, unsurprisingly, added a little extra je ne sais quoi to the song) while Oliver rapped the ad-libs.
[A/N: listen to the song: SexyBack, by Justin Timberlake for the vibes]
🎶 I'm bringing sexy back
(Yeah)
Them other boys don't know how to act
(Yeah)
I think it's special, what's behind your back
(Yeah)
So turn around and I'll pick up the slack
(Yeah)
Take 'em to the bridge
(That's it) 🎶
As the song played, the car's interior lights pulsed deep red and violet in sync with the music. The music was so loud that anyone below would hear it if the [SILENCE] inscription wasn't active.
🎶 Dirty babe
(Uh-huh)
You see these shackles baby, I'm your slave
(Uh-huh)
I'll let you whip me if I misbehave
(Uh-huh)
It's just that no one makes me feel this way
(Uh-huh)
Take 'em to the chorus 🎶
Salem reached into his shadow and pulled out a phone. He clicked it on and began recording them singing.
🎶 Come here girl
(Go 'head be gone with it)
Come to the back
(Go 'head be gone with it)
VIP
(Go 'head be gone with it)
Drinks on me
(Go 'head be gone with it)
Let me see what you're twerking with
(Go 'head be gone with it)
Look at those hips
(Go 'head be gone with it)
You make me smile
(Go 'head be gone with it)
Go 'head child
(Go 'head be gone with it) 🎶
Salem leaned back, holding the phone up to capture both of them, grinning at the camera, his fangs shining from the moonlight above. Oliver smiled, giving a playful wink to the camera.
🎶 And, get your sexy on
(Go 'head be gone with it)
Get your sexy on
(Go 'head be gone with it)
Get your sexy on
(Go 'head be gone with it)
Get your sexy on
(Go 'head be gone with it)
Get your sexy on
(Go 'head be gone with it)
Get your sexy on
(Go 'head be gone with it)
Get your sexy on
(Go 'head be gone with it)
Get your sexy on 🎶
As the car cruised alongside the clouds, the hospital finally came into view.
"I'm bringin' sexy—huh? Turn it back up, Oliver," Salem said, adjusting his shades and peering at Oliver from above the frames.
Oliver lifted his pointer finger from the wheel and pointed ahead. "Sorry, boss. We're here."
Salem, too small to see over the dashboard, had to take Oliver's word for it. He sighed, tapped his paw on the phone to stop the recording, and began editing it.
Salem usually documented anything he found would increase his sex—cuteness appeal. He never posted or shared the vids; he just kept them stored away.
From their elevation, the hospital looked like a tiny speck amongst other tiny concrete specks. However, as they grew closer, the hospital resembled a college campus. It was sprawling and expansive and shaped like a giant "X."
The car began its descent, and the sea of cars in the parking lot became visible. The parking lot was full, which was to be expected, being that it was the only hospital in the area. Injured heroes or regular everyday folk alike would come to this hospital for treatment at all hours of the day, so no wonder it was busy.
As they neared the building, Oliver maneuvered the car over the hospital roof and gently pressed the brake. He lowered the Pagani onto the roof opposite the helicopter landing pad. The car remained invisible and completely silent, thanks to the inscriptions on its center console.
Oliver turned off the engine, unbuckled his seatbelt, and exited the car. Salem leaped after him, landing gracefully on Oliver's head. With a quick thought, Oliver teleported them both to the ground behind a cluster of trees and bushes.
Even though the parking lot was full, it was quiet, and no one was outside. Oliver walked from behind the bushes into the building.
A sterile smell instantly greeted his nostrils. One that was clean and sharp. Like antiseptic.
The interior was bright; nurses in blue and pink scrubs roamed the hallways deliberately, and men in white coats who looked to have not slept in days wandered around them. A half-circle reception desk stood in the center of the lobby, where three nurses worked at their computers. Two nurses appeared in their mid-twenties to early thirties, and the last one seemed close to retirement.
Oliver approached the desk and addressed the nurse, who looked the least exhausted. "Excuse me, ma'am."
The nurse slowly raised her head from the computer, her fingers still typing away. Her fingers froze as her gaze met Oliver's, and she blinked in surprise.
"I'm here to visit my friend's mom, Inko Midoriya. Could you please direct me to her room?"
The nurse's eyes remained locked on Oliver, as if entranced. Her eyes stayed fixed on Oliver, with only a momentary shift to Salem, who was perched on Oliver's shoulder with a bored expression, before returning back to Oliver.
The lack of response caught the attention of one of her colleagues, who looked up from their computer.
"Everything alright, Aya—"
The second nurse's sentence trailed off as she stared at Oliver, wide-eyed and speechless.
Feeling a bit uncomfortable under their intense stare, Oliver cleared his throat. "I'm sorry. Is everything okay?"
The eldest nurse at the counter's far end lifted her gaze at Oliver, offering only a raised brow before turning her attention to her colleagues, then smirking. "Sorry, son. How can we help?"
Oliver flashed a pearly white smile that seemed to engulf the nurses even more. "I'm here to visit Inko Midoriya. She was admitted earlier this evening. Can you provide directions to her room?"
"Of course, cutie. Just give me a sec," the eldest nurse replied, clicking away at her computer.
"Um…" A noise brought Oliver's attention back to the two nurses before him. "Do… do you mind…" one of them trailed off, unable to complete her sentence. Her cheeks were beginning to turn a shade of pastel pink.
"Mind what?" Oliver asked gently, leaning slightly forward.
The nurse gathered her courage and stammered, "Would you mind giving us your number?"
'Is this their way of expressing their desire to mate with an underage boy?' Salem mentally transmitted. 'It's a little pedestrian, don't you think?'
"I'm sorry; why would you like my number?" Oliver feigned ignorance.
"Oh, um. Well… because we—"
The eldest nurse pushed her out of the way and leaned over the counter, handing Oliver a slip of paper.
"She's in room 312," she said with a wink. "Take care, and if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask."
"Thanks," Oliver replied with a smile and a small nod to the nurses. Have a great night, ladies." He then headed towards the elevator.
As the elevator doors closed, Salem's voice echoed in his mind. 'They didn't even check your identity. For all they know, you could be the Hash-slinging slasher about to finish what you started.'
'Guess I have a trustworthy face.' Oliver responded.
Salem scoffed in return.
After getting out of the elevator, Oliver walked to room 312, knocked thrice, and after receiving a soft "yes," pulled the door to the side and stepped in, closing it behind him.
The first thing he noticed was the hospital bed, with Inko lying on it, completely unconscious. A white breathing tube had been inserted down her throat, and her chest rose and fell slowly with its help.
Clear hospital tape strapped down a myriad of needles in her arms, which were attached to IV bags filled with a transparent substance, silently dropping liquid into her veins.
Beside the bed, on his knees, lightly holding her hand, was Izuku, who looked no better than she did. He had on exactly the same thing he left Oliver's house wearing—shorts and a now wrinkled and wet t-shirt. His eyes were puffy and red. His lips were chapped, and his face looked haggard, like he had been locked up in Tartarus for five days without sleep, food, or water.
Why does he look worse than her? Salem asked telepathically. Wasn't she the one who was stabbed?
Lifting himself from the ground (which looked to take almost all of his energy), Izuku looked up at Salem but quickly disregarded him and spoke in a voice that sounded like he had just downed a bag of Cracker Jacks and was desperate for water: "O-Ollie. You made it."
Oliver took several steps towards him, placed his hand on his slightly hunched shoulder, and squeezed lightly. "How's she holding up?"
Izuku's gaze traveled back to his mom. "She's… stable. They finished surgery earlier, but they said she wouldn't wake up for a while."
Izuku's eyes trailed down her body to the needles attached to her veins, and he took a deep, hitched breath.
Oliver stepped up beside her bed. "I see."
"Will you… be able to heal her?"
'These little scratches. Please. He must not know who you are.' Salem said telepathically.
Oliver put his left hand on Inko's head. "Of course."
A green light emanated from Oliver's hand and traveled into Inko's body, starting from her head and quickly traveling down her neck, sternum, chest, arms, and lower body. Her condition improved at a rate visible to the human eye and her complexion gained a rosy tint—no longer as white and sickly as snow.
Oliver's healing wasn't like Recovery Girl's quirk, which sped up the body's natural healing processes at the cost of the person's stamina. Instead, Oliver's healing used his stored energy to mend tissues, organs, and cells by directly bypassing the need for the patient's own physical exertion.
This process acted on a fundamental level, repairing and regenerating damaged cells without accelerating aging or depleting the body's resources. It ensured that the person being healed did not feel exhausted afterward, unlike Recovery Girl's patients, who often needed rest to recuperate their stamina.
Since Oliver's energy worked on a cellular level, enhancing the natural regeneration of the human body, it required the most energy from him. So, to better understand his quirk, he created a system to measure the energy expenditure for each task or function of his inscriptions.
Each inscription cost a specific number of units to use. Healing major injuries like Inko's, which involved severe trauma, organ damage, or critical wounds, usually required about one Terajoule (TJ) of energy. One Terajoule is equivalent to one trillion joules.
Oliver could regain this energy in minutes through movement, sunlight exposure, absorbing electricity, sleep, and other means.
Even though he could store all forms of energy, his fifteen-year-old body still had limits on the amount of energy he could store. Right now, his limit is 100,000 TJ.
After completing the healing, Inko's breathing became calmer and less heavy, and the rise and fall of her chest was controlled. Oliver removed his hand from her head, saying, "Well, that's it."
"… That's it?" Izuku asked in shock. "It hasn't even been a minute."
"Yessir. She's all healed up. Might take her a couple of hours to wake up since she experienced some mental trauma, but other than that, she's fine."
Izuku grasped Oliver's shoulders. "T-thank you so much! I was so worried and didn't know what to do, and I…" He began choking on his tears.
'He sure is a crier.' Salem transmitted. 'Reminds me of you five years ago when—'
"You don't have to thank me for this; it's the least I could do. We're friends, right?" Oliver said, reassuring Izuku with a smile.
Izuku sniffled, trying to collect himself. After a few moments of wiping his tears and snot on his t-shirt (which garnered a huff of disgust from Salem), he nodded. "Right. We are friends. But still… thank you so much."
"You're welcome, man. I'm sure you would do the same for me," Oliver said, taking a seat on the couch on the far wall. It was a moderately sized room with enough room for a sofa and a small armchair. "So, now that we handled that, do you mind telling me what happened? If you don't want to, you don't have to."
Oliver knew what Izuku and his mom went through was traumatic, so he didn't want to push him to explain what had happened.
Izuku slumped into the armchair, looking emotionally drained. "It's fine. I can talk about it." He took a deep breath. "A little after I got home from your house, she texted me she was coming home from getting groceries."
Before Izuku left Oliver's house, Oliver had inscribed [REPAIR] on the back of Izuku's phone, which used electrical energy to repair the broken screen. As long as Izuku's phone was charged, it would be brand new—in return, the battery drained about twice as fast.
Oliver raised his brow. "This late at night?"
"She forgot there was a BOGO sale at Harvest Delights. It ended today, and... she's kinda crazy about sales."
Oliver nodded his head in understanding and waited for Izuku to continue.
"I was flipping through the TV, and the news came up with a breaking story about the serial killer that's been making his rounds through the city. There was footage of him leaving an alley, and when I saw him, I knew he was the guy I ran into this morning."
"What made you think it was the same guy?"
"For one," Izuku pointed at his wrist, "he had the same tattoo. The footage was blurry, but I will never forget that. Even his height and build matched. It had to be the same guy. And shortly after the news report, the hospital called me, and... well, that's it."
Oliver drummed his fingers rhythmically on the couch's armrest. "Interesting."
"If I had just called the police this morning, this wouldn't have happened. She wouldn't have been attacked. She wouldn't be..." Izuku trailed off, looking down at his hands with a devastated expression. But Izuku's tone quickly rose as if coming to a revelation.
"This... this—could this have been a targeted attack? Could he have somehow found out who my mom was and tried to kill her because of what happened this morning?"
'The boy is correct, Oliver. It could very well have been a targeted attack,' Salem echoed.
'I know that,' Oliver transmitted back. 'I'll look into it more when we get back home.'
'Is it finally time to hack into the police database? Finally! We can be like Watchdog, and hack into people's bank accounts!'
Oliver tuned Salem out (and made a mental note to limit his video game time) but decided it was best to be honest with Izuku.
"You're right, Izuku. He could have." Oliver's words cut off Izuku's spiraling thoughts. Izuku's eyes widened in shock and panic. "He could have somehow found out who you were, where you lived, who your mom is. And then, after finding out all of that, he could have decided to target your mom at night when no one was around, to kill her to get back at you."
Izuku lowered his head as his eyes began to water. His fingers gripped tightly around his shorts.
"But if that's the case." Oliver continued, his tone serious. "What are you going to do about it?"
Izuku's eyes met Oliver's, and he managed to get out, "... Huh?"
Oliver repeated himself, leaning forward slightly. "If this guy really did target your mom because of you, what are you going to do about it?"
Izuku's brows furrowed in confusion. "I—I don't understand."
Oliver looked Izuku in the eyes. "You want to be a hero, right? That's your dream. To save people?"
Izuku nodded vigorously.
"Well, if that's the case, you're always going to be in a position where someone could target your family. Maybe one of the villains you lock away will get out and come after your mom. Or maybe someone will put a hit out on her. Anything is bound to happen in this field, Izuku. And it's more common than people realize."
Izuku's eyes widened.
"When you decide to be a hero, you choose to put yourself in harm's way to save people and bring justice to the world. But you're also involuntarily signing up those you hold close to be put at risk. Their safety becomes a concern every second of every day. What happened to your mom today—" he gestured to her, "—could happen again."
Izuku's shoulders slumped. "I didn't think about that…"
"Most people don't, so don't beat yourself up. And to be honest, most heroes only think about the potential fame they can garner or how much money they can get."
"I'm not like that. I would never be a hero for money or fame!"
"I know," Oliver said, recalling how Izuku sacrificed his safety to save people more than once. You do it because you want to help people, and that's great. But that brings me back to my question. What are you going to do now? How are you going to limit the chance of this happening again?"
Izuku lowered his head in thought.
"I can get security detail for her. Like how you have bodyguards. Give her a team to protect her."
Salem's mental voice said, 'Looks like he has at least a bit of sense.'
"That's a good idea. But to do that, you need a lot of money or some serious influence."
"I get the money part. But influence?"
"What I mean is, you have to be somebody significant. You can't just be a regular hero solving petty crimes. Your existence has to matter to the government, so much so that they'll give you agents to protect your family because you're that important."
Just like what the American and Japanese governments are doing for Oliver.
"Like… All Might? Or Endeavor?"
"Yeah. Any of the top heroes, honestly."
"So, you're saying I have to provide value to the country."
"Yeah, that's one option. But with more notoriety comes more potential harm to those you care about. Personally, I'd prefer to be so valuable that the government begs me to stay in the country, doing anything and everything to keep me satisfied—including protecting my family."
Izuku nodded slowly. "I think I understand."
"And, of course, if you want to be more low-key, you could become an underground hero. You'd always wear a mask, so no one knows who you are—thus, they won't know who your family is. There are pros and cons to this, too."
Izuku looked thoughtful. "I want to be someone people can depend on, someone they can look up to, someone like…" he trailed off, staring into the distance.
Salem's voice echoed in Oliver's mind. 'He probably wants to be similar to the guy who served as Cathleen's inspiration.'
Izuku snapped back to reality. "…So I need to get stronger. I need to get control over my quirk. If I become powerful enough, the Japanese government will have to protect the people I care about. I need to be so strong that they can't afford to ignore me or my loved ones."
"That would be a good start. Your quirk has a lot of potential. Destroying that zero pointer with one punch shows you've got what it takes to be at the top."
"You—you think so?"
"Of course," Oliver said. "It just looks like you don't know how to use it properly, your body isn't strong enough for it, or maybe both. As I said earlier today, I can help you control your quirk."
Izuku hesitated, opening his mouth to respond, but closed it, clearly conflicted. Earlier today, Oliver offered to help Izuku control his quirk, but Izuku seemed unsure for some reason.
"How about this," Oliver suggested. A few dollars appeared in his palm and he handed them to Izuku. "Go take a breather—splash some water on your face, get some snacks from the vending machine, and come back."
"I'm okay. I don't need—"
"You don't look okay," Oliver cut him off, motioning to the door. Go on, get some air. I'll stay here and watch after your mom."
Izuku finally nodded, taking the money. "Alright. I'll be back in a bit."
As Izuku walked out, Salem's voice chimed in. 'It would be foolish for him to decline your offer. His head would explode if he knew how much those politicians in America offered to pay you for your help.'
********
After leaving the room, Izuku wandered down the hallway, trying to clear his head. He reached the restroom and splashed water on his face, looking at his reflection in the mirror. "Ollie was right was right." He muttered. "I do look pretty bad."
Izuku's eyes were puffy and red, and his hair was disheveled and out of place. His shirt was wet from tears and snot—gross.
Feeling slightly more composed, he grabbed a few snacks from the vending machine and was about to head back to the room when he heard screaming in the lobby. He approached the source of the commotion.
A man stood in the lobby, holding an assault rifle in one hand and a button in the other. He wore a long black coat that was full of holes and looked like it hadn't been washed in years. Underneath, he had on a dirty, oversized shirt that hung over his round belly. His pants were torn at the knees and barely held up by a frayed belt. A ski mask covered his face, leaving only his eyes visible as he shouted for everyone to get down on the floor.
"Everyone, get the hell down! Now!" the man bellowed, his voice echoing through the lobby.
Panic spread like wildfire. A nurse screamed, dropping her clipboard. "Oh my God, please don't shoot!"
Another person, a man in his mid-thirties wearing a suit with an egg-shaped head, shouted, "Somebody call the police!"
The gunman turned his rifle towards the man and fired. The sharp crack of the gunshot pierced through the lobby.
The man screamed, clutching his arm where the bullet had hit.
"He—he shot me! He shot me!"
"I did. Now shut the hell up before I do it again!"
The man quickly shut up.
Izuku froze in shock, his mind racing.
The man turned his gaze from his wounded victim and locked eyes with Izuku, pointing the gun directly at him.
"Are you deaf? Get the hell down!"
Izuku's hands shot up, and he quickly sat down.
The man scanned the room, his finger hovering over the trigger.
"If anyone tries anything funny, I'll swear to god I'll blow this place sky high!"
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