Chapter Text
Midoriya was asleep.
As bad as yesterday’s beatings were, he somehow fell asleep. His eyes were closed as his head slumped against his chained arms, hanging from a ceiling like a pinata. The pads of his feet brushed along the ground as he gently swayed side to side, rocking himself to sleep. His shoulders burned. From having his entire weight weigh on two weak joints to the horrible contortions his kidnapper forced him in, they burned with every movement. His arms were numb as were his toes and leg after the man aggressively took some kind of blunt weapon and beat it black and blue, leaving his sole right leg to lift himself up to alleviate the pressure.
He’d do that if he could even feel his right foot.
It was numb. Torn. Mutilated. The underside of his foot as well as the spaces between his toes were constantly cut and burned to the point where flaps of his skin would hang off his feet. The nails would be pulled or crushed with a hammer and his soles were always destroyed. Midoriya knew why his unnamed kidnapper did this.
It was so he couldn’t run away.
Even if he could get down from his ceiling chains, undo the chains around his ankles and buckles on his toes, he wouldn’t be able to use his feet. Not unless he wasn't to pass out from pain three steps away. Midoriya’s never seen his feet during his stay with his kidnapper, but he’s felt them. He’s felt the burning, the slicing, the stomps, the crushing, he’s felt it all.
He always feels it.
His body burned right now. Killed. Throbbed with waves of pain crashing into his weak frame. It'd ache and cramp so badly, he’d cry out. Beg for the man to let him go from his position. Plead with him. Give up anything he had if only the man would just stop touching him.
Midoriya never knew if the man heard him or not. So he stopped asking.
The worst part from his hanging position was that he’d shake. Either from his feet not being to hold that much weight for the length of a time or just to the entire situation, he’d shake. It was uncontrollable. Another reminder of how powerless he was in this situation. He didn’t like shaking. But he couldn’t control that.
He couldn’t control anything.
That was all taken away the minute he was taken.
His free will.
His sanity.
His dignity.
It was all taken away. Reduced to ashes as his kidnapper burned away everything that made him, him, but he didn’t just stop there. No, Midoriya’s kidnapper killed everything that made him human too.
Sometime during his 'stay', Midoriya was moved from his usual rooms to the basement. The next time he woke up, he never knew the time or day, he woke up to nothing.
When he tried to open his eyes, he was in darkness. Not darkness as in absence of light, but darkness as in there was nothing in his eyes.
When Midoriya cried out for his kidnapper, he couldn’t hear his own voice. Not the echo off the wall, not his own broken vocal cords.
When Midoriya sniffled the snot and tears running down his face in panic, he couldn’t smell the blood-soaked clothes he was wearing. The layers upon layers of putrid sweat he’s built up were nothing to his nose.
He couldn’t smell. He couldn’t hear.
And most fearful of them all…
He couldn’t see.
He was deprived of the last thing he had: his own senses.
Sight, smell, hearing, taste, it was all gone, leaving Midoriya completely helpless in the hands of his enemy. He couldn’t see his kidnapper. Couldn’t hear his footsteps when they’d walk into the basement. Couldn’t smell his smoke-scented clothes. He couldn’t sense anything in the world.
However, he could still feel.
His kidnapper, gracious or not, left Midoriya one last sense to ground him to the present: touch.
It would have been too nice to be a torture victim an not be able to feel a kidnapper’s methods. No, Midoriya could feel everything. And, because he lost all other senses, his sense of touch was enhanced.
The cold of the chains stringing him up pretty from the ceiling, the blood dripped down his back, the heated breath of the man on his neck, the sharp touch of a knife on his soles, the metal hammer to his knees, the feather-light touches on his shoulders, the hot iron to his ribs, the everything.
He could feel it all.
But experience none of it.
He couldn’t taste the food in his mouth but could feel the extremely hot rice being shoved down his throat, cooking him from the inside out.
He cried until he threw up that day
He couldn’t smell his skin burning off, but he could feel the hot iron brand itself into Midoriya’s skin.
He cracked his own tooth that day.
He could hear the wooden bat slap against his back, but he could feel his shins shattering on impact.
He broke his leg for the second time that day.
He could feel everything.
He’d never see any of it come, either. He could never mentally prepare himself for whatever was coming, so he began expectating everything everyday. When it came, it came. Any fight Midoriya had would be too late as the ‘session’ would have already started and anything he could have done to prolong or prevent it would be gone.
It made him scared of everything. The touches of his kidnapper’s bloodied hands were lumped with the caring touches. Any touch, he configured, was bound to bring pain.
He didn’t want any more pain.
He was done.
He’s been done for a while.
But when has that ever stopped his unmasked kidnaper?
Of the time Midoriya’s been wherever he is, he’s never seen his kidnapper’s face. He knows it’s a man and he knows he is tall with very blond hair, but the man also wears a mask. A face mask with a big smiley face painted on to it. Midoriya has tried to grab the man’s mask to see who he is, but Midoriya always loses and always ends up with another broken bone.
Midoriya woke up slowly. His body was on fire. Numbed but inflamed. Burning but cool. His eyes fluttered open to the usual sight of nothing while he tried to flex his fingers.
They twitched.
Midoriya left out a soft cry, a pathetic sounding whimper. He’d do this every time he’d make up. He’d wake thinking this all was a dream and for a split second, everything would be fine. He’d fee; light on his bloodied feet and his shoulders would relax, only for his vision to concentrate on nothing. He’d smell nothing. He’d hear nothing. And the weights of reality would crush him to dust.
So he cried. It didn’t get him anywhere. He didn’t even know what his voice sounded like, but he cried.
It was one of the few things he still had control over.
Midoriya hung there crying to himself like he normally does when he felt something.
A touch.
On his shoulder.
It was him. His kidnapper. He was here.
Midoriya jumped on his bloodied foot which was still chained to the ground and tried to sway away. That jump pulled hard on Midoriya’s shoulder blades causing him to cry out in pain. He knee jerks kept pulling on his leg tendons in ways they aren’t supposed to be pulled, but Midoriya didn’t care.
It was rare that his kidnapper warned him of his torture, so if this was his lucky chance, he’d fight himself to exhaustion. That way the actual torture would be more bearable. He’d get too tired to scream and pass out much quicker. Then he wouldn’t have to feel anything.
“No,” Midoriya whispered, twitching like a fish out of water. He was weak, so weak he could barely pull his legs up and move the chain. “No, get away. D-Don’t touch me.”
More hands were touching him now. As far as he knew, his kidnapper was only one person, but here there were so many hands. Touching his legs. His feet. He shoulders. His arms. They were all touching him. It was overwhelming. Overstimulating. Overriding every boundary in his body. Midoriya cried out again as tears, panic, and fear took over his movements. He couldn’t control himself anymore. Everything was fight or flight right and Midoriya’s emotions were holding the reins now.
Midoriya lashed out, trying and failing to kick those hands away. If there were more than two hands, that meant his kidnapper brought more people. Was he going to be sold off? Was there going to be more people to torture him? Were there people watching? Who is it? Why? How? He was so scared. So desperate. So in pain. He just wants it all to...
“Stop,” Midoriya demanded pathetically. “Stop! STOP!”
The hands at his toes were touching every part of his skin, lifting and pulling on the chains around his ankles and toes. Midoriya tried to wiggle out of their grasp, but the metal bar buckling Midoriya to the ground prevented all of that.
There was someone patting his calf while more and more hands were touching his face. Someone’s fingers touched the blindfold around his useless eyes while another was touching his cheek. That was way too close. Way too close. Out of reflex, he launched himself at the finger and snapped it between his teeth. He bit down so hard, he hit bone.
Midoriya froze.
No.
No.
No, he just bit his kidnapper. He hurt him. He was going to pay. The kidnapper would make him pay. He was going to die now. He knew that.
Guilt, regret and even more fear forced itself through Midoriya’s eyes as he cried and begged for forgiveness, completely forgetting the one bit of rebellion he had seconds ago.
“No, please. I-I’m sorry. I-I didn’t m-mean it. I-I’m s-sorry!” Midoriya cried, holding his head down and ignoring all the hands on his body.
Soon after, a wildfire of pain burned in Midoriya’s arms and shoulders as they were slowly lowered from over his head to his sides. The sudden rush of blood and extremely sore and torn shoulder sockets caused Midoriya to cry out even louder.
This was his punishment. He knew he deserved it. But he couldn’t help crying out, begging him to stop.
“PLEASE! I-I’M SORRY!” Midoriya screamed, squirming in place. His arms throbbed with pain. He couldn’t move any of his body parts. His arms were useless and his feet were all cut up.
His kidnapper’s done this before. He’s let Midoriya crumple to the ground just so he could get even more leverage on Midoriya. He was easier to kick when Midoriya was on the ground.
When the chains weighing Midoriya’s shoulders down were released, he felt the cold cement floor on his chopped up feet, eliciting a sharp yell as he felt himself forward onto the freezing ground. His knees crashed first followed by the rest of his body. He couldn’t break his fall even if he wanted to.
Midoriya’s head was about to hit hard on the ground when a pair of hands caught him.
They were warm. Hard. Calloused.
Like his kidnappers.
They felt the same when he’d choke the life out of Midoriya. The same when he’d slap him so hard, his cheek would bleed. The same when he’d push on all of Midoriya’s wounds, just to hear him yell.
They were the same.
“N-no, please, don’t hurt me. I’m sorry. Please, I-'' Midoriya pleaded. Tears were streaming down his face as he flopped his limbs around, trying to get away from his kidnapper. One of his feet was still buckled down to the ground, leashing Midoriya in that one spot like a puppy to a tree. “P-Please, I don’t want t-to die!” Midoriuya cried, curling into a defensive ball, his foot still stuck to the ground. His broken arms were barely hiding his face.
All of the hands disappeared from his body. No one was touching him now.
But they were all watching. Midoriya could feel their eyes on him.
His kidnapper was going to put on a show for them. He was going to kill Midoriya in front of them all. He was going to die. All because he couldn’t control his own body. Because he was so scared, he acted out against his kidnapper. He was weak. Fearful. Weak. Weak. Weak. He was weak.
He could feel him next to his head. He felt a hand on his shoulder. He felt the warm breath breathe down his neck.
Too close.
It was just in the heat of the moment. An instinctual reflex more than conscious decision.
Midoriya wouldn’t have done this if he wasn’t so overwhelmed and scared out of his mind, but as that warm, calloused hand touched his shoulder again, flight turned into fight .
Like a cornered animal surrounded by hunters, Midoriya lashed out.
Midoriya grabbed the hand and pulled as hard as he could. His kidnapper toppled to his side. He wasted no time to crawl on top of his kidnapper and ended his suffering one and for all.
Everything went blank as his tiny boney hands found his kidnapper’s neck and squeezed. He squeezed and choked this man who has brought him so much fear his entire life. Squeezed and choked the man for every second, minute, day and month he tortured him. For every scream and cry he’s shed, he was going to squeeze the life out of the man for it. Memories of the white room, intrusive thoughts from the black room, it all hit at once, strengthening him, motivating him to kill his kidnapper.
He was working on autopilot now. He couldn’t stop his body despite his own self screaming to not kill the man below him, but his hands wouldn’t work. He had no place to go, but he couldn’t stay here. He just needed to get out .
Despite literally killing someone, Midoriya couldn’t help but cry. It went against everything he’s ever stood for. His life was lived against crimes like this. He was turning into the very person he was trained to take down. And he didn’t mind. An abnormal amount of him wanted to kill this man. To rip him limp by limp, to burn every part of his body, to rip out his teeth and fingernails, to do everything that man did to him right back. The kidnapper deserved to die. Even more fitting, he deserved to die by Midoriya’s hand.
Midoriya pushed harder on the man’s throat.
But would that be enough? What if the man survived? What if Midoriya did escape, but the man didn’t die? What if the man found Midoriya and brought him back? What if he was strapped back in the white room? Left for years in the black room? What if the man tortured him even more in the basement? What if he locked him in this basement and threw away the key? He’d be stuck here forever with no sight. No hearing. No smell. No taste. Only the lasting touch of the man’s harmful hands. He’d repeat this life over and over again.
He’d be stuck here.
Forever alone in eternal pain and never ending agony.
He couldn’t do that.
“N-no, no,” Midoriya cried. “I-I can’t be here anymore.”
Midoriya tried to readjust his grip only for his fingers to completely fail him, they fell limp in his hands. Useless. Midoriya tried to squeeze again, but the kidnapper’s hands took his own.
Midoriya froze.
He lost.
H-He really lost.
This was the end for him.
He was going to die.
He felt the man’s large hands completely engulf his own which were still around his neck. Midoriya tried to pull them back, but his kidnapper wouldn’t budge.
This was his punishment. His punishment for losing. His consequence for fighting . He closed his eyes, despite not being able to see, and prepared himself for the blow.
Would it be that bat? His fist? Maybe one of the iron-
The man began rubbing Midoriya’s hands.
Midoriya stilled. W-Was this the calm before the storm? The comfort before the pain? What was this?
Gently, but hard enough for Midoriya to feel it, the man’s warm hands soothed Midoriya’s own. They felt different than when his kidnapper would do it to him. They felt more real, more comforting, more trustworthy-
No!
Midoriya seized as he snapped himself from those thoughts.
This was his kidnapper! Someone who was touching him! Touch meant pain, not trust.
All he’s known was pain.
The circles continued, breaking down every piece Midoriya held on to.
Yet somehow, those hands were taking it all away.
His thumb softly brushed Midoriya’s knuckles.
If he doesn’t have his pain, then what does he have?
The hands stopped moving.
This was it. The man is going to kill him. Choke him to death like Midoriya tried. Maybe beat him black and blue? Set him on fire? Maybe he’ll send him back upstairs to his rooms. Maybe the man will take mercy and just shoot-
The gentle hands placed Midoriya’s hands on a face? He could feel the skin under his burned finger tips, the cheekbones of this person. The hands moved Midoriya’s thumb over a small patch of weirdly distorted skin under his kidnapper’s? eye. It felt like a scar of some kind.
Midoriya stilled.
Oh.
Oh.
T-This wasn’t his kidnapper.
His kidnapper didn’t have a scar under his eye.
But-
But he did.
B-But it couldn’t be him. Midoriya couldn’t trust this.
Yet...
Midoriya was there when he got it.
Hiding in the cold water and watching as he protected Midoriya to his last breath.
“You really are cool, Eraserhead.”
“Sensei?”