Chapter 47: Nurse Room
The world inside the U.A. infirmary was a universe away from the one outside. Here, the only sound was the gentle, rhythmic beeping of medical monitors and the soft, soothing hum of the air purifiers. The roar of a hundred thousand people was a distant, muted thing, a storm happening on another planet. The air smelled of antiseptic and clean linen, and the afternoon sun streamed through the large windows, casting warm, peaceful squares of light on the polished floor.
In the center of this tranquil space, two beds sat side-by-side. On one, Shoto Todoroki sat upright, his back straight. Medics had treated the minor bruises and scrapes he'd sustained, but physically, he was almost entirely unharmed. His defeat was not written on his body, but in the profound, contemplative silence that surrounded him, and in the way his gaze was fixed on the boy in the adjacent bed.
Rock Lee lay on his back, his eyes closed. Recovery Girl, the school's diminutive but formidable nurse, worked with a practiced and weary sigh. Using her Quirk, she healed the worst of the burns on his arms and the severe internal muscle tearing, the process marked by a soft, warm glow. Even after her healing, his body was a roadmap of the battle's toll. Thick white bandages were wrapped around his forearms and shins. Smaller patches dotted his shoulders and torso. He was a warrior in the aftermath, his body a testament to the impossible price he had paid for his victory.
Todoroki watched him, his mind a silent, churning sea. The fight replayed in his thoughts, not as a blur of motion, but as a series of stark, defining moments. He saw the impossible speed, the first punch that had cracked his ice and his composure. He saw the eruption of the blue aura, a power so immense it felt like a law of nature being rewritten.
And he heard the words, the words that had shattered the foundation of his world.
"I do not have a Quirk."
It had sounded like a lie. A boast. An impossibility. But now, looking at the boy on the bed, it was the only thing that made sense. Todoroki's gaze drifted to Lee's arms and legs, the parts not covered by bandages. They were not the limbs of a normal teenager. They were honed, sculpted, and scarred, every muscle fiber defined by a life of torment and discipline that Todoroki could barely begin to comprehend. That body was not the product of a Quirk. That body was the Quirk. He had not lost to a hidden power. He had lost to a lifetime of hard work.
Todoroki slowly lifted his own left hand, staring at the palm from which a raging inferno had been born. He saw his father's triumphant, monstrously proud face in the stands. He had used the fire. He had used his father's power, the very thing he had sworn to reject, and still, he had lost. The thought was a cold, heavy stone in his gut. I was so trapped, he thought, his gaze returning to Lee's peaceful, sleeping face. So trapped in my own hatred, my own childish rebellion… I was fighting against my father. He… he was fighting for something more. He finally understood. He had lost before the first punch was ever thrown, because his motivation had been a poisoned, selfish thing, and his opponent's had been pure.
"He's awake."
Recovery Girl's voice cut through his thoughts. Lee's eyes had fluttered open, his dark gaze slowly coming into focus.
"Now, young man," Recovery Girl said, her tone a familiar mixture of grandmotherly care and stern admonishment as she finished applying a final bandage to Lee's arm. "I've healed the worst of the damage, but my Quirk only accelerates your body's natural healing process. You've used up a tremendous amount of your own life energy. The energy that flows through your body when you fight… it's unnatural. Your system is not yet accustomed to handling that kind of pressure. You must not be so reckless with it. Use it only when absolutely necessary, and in gradual increments, until your body learns to adapt."
She patted his hand, her expression softening. "Honestly, I detest these self-destructive fighting styles. I do not enjoy seeing the bodies of children exhausted and broken by their own power."
Lee managed a small, weak smile. "Thank you for your care, ma'am. I will… try to be more careful."
Suddenly, the roar from the stadium outside swelled, and Present Mic's voice echoed faintly through the walls. "WHAT A BATTLE! HATSUNE MEI IS OUT OF BOUNDS! THE WINNER IS TENYA IIDA!"
Recovery Girl sighed. "The third match is already over, it seems." She turned to the two boys. "You are to rest here for a while longer. Both of you. But especially you, young Lee. You still have more battles ahead of you, and you are in no condition to fight them now."
She bustled out of the room, leaving the two rivals alone in the quiet, sunlit space. For a long time, neither of them spoke. The only sound was the steady beeping of the monitor and the distant, muffled cheers of the crowd.
It was Todoroki who broke the silence. His voice was low, devoid of its usual cold edge, and startlingly honest.
"I didn't see you," he said, not looking at Lee, but at his own hands clasped in his lap. "When we stood on that stage, I wasn't looking at you. I was looking at the ghost of my father. My entire life… has been a rebellion against him. My refusal to use my left side was a part of that. A childish, pointless vow." He finally turned his head, his heterochromatic eyes meeting Lee's. "My hatred, my anger… it made me blind. I was so focused on my own pathetic little drama that I didn't even see you as a true opponent. That is why I lost."
Lee listened silently, his expression one of calm, patient understanding.
"The power you have…" Todoroki continued, his voice barely a whisper. "It is not a gift. I understand that now. It is something you forged yourself, in a place I cannot even imagine. And you wield it with a purpose that is clear and true." He looked away, a look of profound shame on his face. "I am not there yet."
The confession hung in the air, a raw and vulnerable thing. At the edge of the open doorway, hidden from their view, Izuku Midoriya stood, his hand still raised as if to knock. He had come to check on Lee, his future opponent and his comrade, but had stopped, unwilling to interrupt the intensely private moment.
Lee took a slow breath, the movement causing a faint twinge of pain. "The family problems you are going through… they do not seem like a simple thing," he said, his voice soft and empathetic. "To be honest, I cannot fully comprehend them. I have been blessed with a family that loves and supports me." He looked at Todoroki, his eyes full of a strange, mature wisdom. "In a way, I understand your feelings. And that is why I will wait. I will wait until you are at your strongest, until your mind is clear and you are fighting for yourself, and no one else. Then, I wish to have a fair fight with you, with no family problems to weigh you down."
Todoroki stared at him, speechless.
"As for me," Lee continued, his gaze drifting towards the ceiling as if seeing a memory. "For a long time, I was a failure. Worthless. Useless. A ghost, as you say. I had nothing. Until I met a woman who believed in me. She gave me hope when I had none. She gave me a way to fight. She gave me a dream—that even without a gift, through hard work alone, I could become a splendid hero." He looked back at Todoroki, a fire burning in his dark eyes. "That is my ambition. That is why I fight. I want to thank her, by proving to her, and to the world, that I can win this festival."
At the doorway, Midoriya's eyes trembled. He clutched the front of his shirt, his heart aching. A person… who gave him hope… who gave him a way to fight… He saw All Might in his mind's eye, a skeletal figure on a rooftop, telling him, "You too, can become a hero." He was not the only one.
Quietly, so as not to be seen, Midoriya turned and walked away. He had come to check on his rival. He left with a newfound, profound respect for the boy who was, in so many ways, his perfect reflection.