BASE.. TWO DAYS LATER
The past forty-eight hours were a blur of fear, pain, and yelling.
After the soldiers captured them, everything moved too fast.
The kids were dragged through the metal gates of the quarantine base—shoved past floodlights, guard towers, and shouting officers.
Izuku and Tenya had fought the whole way: screaming for Aiko, for Mirko, for Anna.
They didn't even get five steps inside before the soldiers slammed them to the ground and beat them into submission.
Izuku still tasted blood from it.
Anna and Aiko were yanked in the opposite direction—toward the women's holding cells.
Aiko was unconscious the entire trip.
No one told them where Mirko was.
Or if he was even alive.
NOW – THE PRISON DINING HALL
The hall echoed with metallic clanks, low conversations, and the scrape of boots on concrete.
Tenya and Izuku walked in slowly, trays in hand—both limping, both bruised and bandaged.
Heads turned immediately.
"Ohhh look who's here…"
One older guy leaned back in his chair with a smirk.
"The runaway kids."
Tenya kept his eyes on the ground, jaw tight.
Izuku muttered under his breath, "Just ignore them… just ignore them…"
But he winced with every word—his split lip stinging.
Another prisoner snorted.
"Y'all deserved what happened to you. Your stupid decisions put some of us at risk out there."
A few others murmured in agreement.
Izuku's hands clenched on his tray so hard it rattled.
Tenya stepped slightly in front of him—not because he wasn't angry, but because Izuku looked ready to collapse or start a fight.
Neither option would end well.
"We… we didn't want any of this," Tenya said quietly, voice trembling. "We were just trying to survive."
The man scoffed.
"You survive by not being idiots."
Izuku's breath shook.
He wanted to scream at them.
He wanted to cry.
He wanted to hit someone.
But mostly… he wanted to know where Mirko and Aiko were.
Across the hall, a guard banged his baton against the wall.
"Eat. No talking. No trouble."
Izuku swallowed hard and sat with Tenya at a small metal table in the corner.
His whole body ached.
Every time he blinked, he saw Mirko bleeding in the forest.
"What if he's dead…" Izuku whispered, voice breaking.
Tenya didn't answer for a moment.
His hands trembled against the cold metal table.
Finally, he said, "We… we can't think like that. Not until we know."
But his eyes were red—tired, scared, and silently blaming himself.
---
WOMEN'S HOLDING CELLS
On the other side of the base, separated by heavy steel doors and armed guards, was the women's wing.
Anna sat on the edge of her bunk—arms wrapped around her knees.
Aiko was in the cell beside hers, awake now but pale and fragile-looking.
She'd asked for Mirko's name at least a dozen times.
"Where is he? Why isn't he here? He was bleeding…"
Each time, Anna could only press her forehead to the bars and whisper,
"I don't know… I don't know…"
Aiko pulled her knees close, tears streaking down her cheeks.
"I should've stayed with him. I should've grabbed him. I shouldn't have run…"
"Aiko, stop," Anna said softly, voice shaking. "It wasn't your fault."
But Aiko didn't believe a word of it.
She kept her hand over her heart, right where Mirko's blood had soaked into her clothes two days ago.
She hadn't stopped trembling since.
GENERAL'S HALL..
The metal doors slammed open, and the guards herded the kids inside like cattle.
Izuku.
Tenya.
Anna.
Aiko—still limping, wrists red from restraints.
They were forced into a straight line in front of General Harada's desk, soldiers posted around the room like statues.
Harada stood silently for a moment, hands behind his back.
He looked tired—older than usual—but the coldness in his eyes didn't soften.
"You four have caused a massive problem for this base," he said finally.
His voice was calm, but the disappointment hit harder than yelling.
"You stole weapons. Supplies. And you endangered yourselves and the soldiers who were sent to retrieve you."
Aiko scoffed loudly.
Harada's eyes moved to her—but he continued.
"You may think what you did was brave… but all you've done is—"
"Shut up."
Her voice cut through the room like a blade.
The soldiers stiffened.
Anna's eyes widened.
Tenya panicked.
Izuku whispered, "Aiko… please don't—"
But Aiko stepped forward, fists shaking.
"You don't care about us," she spat. "Not even a little. You didn't 'retrieve' us—you hunted us like animals!"
"Aiko, stand down," Harada ordered.
"No!"
Her voice cracked. "You SHOT him!"
Izuku and Tenya lowered their heads in shared pain.
Anna was already crying quietly.
Aiko wasn't done.
"Mirko was just trying to protect us, and your stupid trigger-happy soldiers shot him! And now you're standing here lecturing us like YOU'RE the victim?!"
Two soldiers stepped forward, but Harada lifted a hand—stopping them.
He looked directly at Aiko.
Not angry.
Not amused.
Just… tired.
"Aiko," he said firmly, "I understand you're upset—"
"Upset?" she snapped. "I hope you choke!"
"Aiko—!" Tenya grabbed her arm, terrified she'd get beaten again.
She yanked away.
Harada exhaled slowly, jaw tight.
Then he addressed all of them.
"You ran away from a system built to protect you. Whether you believe it or not, the walls of this base exist for one purpose—to keep you alive."
Izuku flinched at the word alive.
Mirko should've been standing beside him.
Harada continued:
"You are children. I am responsible for all of you. But I cannot protect anyone who refuses to follow rules meant for your safety."
Aiko glared at him with pure hatred.
"Where is he?" she demanded, voice shaking.
"Where. Is. Mirko?"
Harada hesitated—and that hesitation said everything.
Aiko's breath broke.
"You don't even know… do you?"
Harada didn't answer.
Izuku whispered, voice cracking, "General… please… is he alive?"
Silence.
Harada closed his eyes for half a second—too long.
Aiko screamed, "YOU LET HIM DIE!"
"Remove her," Harada finally ordered, emotion breaking through.
Two guards grabbed Aiko as she kicked and fought.
"NO! LET ME GO! YOU BASTARDS! HE'S OUT THERE—HE'S ALONE—LET ME GO!!..I HOPE YOU ALL DIE!!!!!
"Aiko!" Anna cried, reaching for her.
Izuku froze in place, hands trembling.
Tenya felt his stomach twist so violently he thought he'd be sick.
Harada rubbed his forehead once they dragged her out.
"This is exactly why we need order," he muttered.
"Without it… all that's left is chaos...
The room felt emptier without Aiko screaming in it, but somehow it felt heavier too—like the walls themselves were ashamed.
Harada exhaled slowly and finally looked at Izuku and Tenya.
Both boys looked exhausted, bruised, and broken in a way no kid should look.
He softened his voice.
"Look… I never ordered any guard to shoot anyone," Harada said quietly.
"The guard who fired is under arrest. He acted on his own."
Tenya looked up sharply, jaw trembling with anger he tried desperately to hide.
Izuku swallowed hard.
"Then why did you leave him?" he whispered.
Harada closed his eyes for a moment.
"And about the boy…" The general's voice lowered. "I'm sorry he was left behind. I hope he'll be fine."
Hope.
That word stung worse than a slap.
Izuku's knuckles turned white.
"Why can't you just send your men to go look for him?" he muttered.
"If you actually care."
Harada froze.
His jaw flexed—but he said nothing.
Not a single excuse.
Not a single explanation.
Silence was louder than anything he could've said.
Tenya stepped forward, breath shaking.
"You don't care, do you?"
Harada looked away.
"…Sorry, kids," he finally said, voice low.
"Take them back to their cells."
The guards stepped forward immediately.
Izuku didn't fight them—he just hung his head, eyes burning.
But Tenya…
Tenya snapped.
"You never cared!" he shouted as the soldiers grabbed his arms.
"We were SAFE! We were living our lives on the treehouse—you took that away from us!"
He struggled as they dragged him toward the door.
"We were HAPPY!" he yelled, voice cracking.
"We were finally happy!"
Harada stood there—stone-still, eyes shadowed—as the boys were pulled out of the room.
The door slammed shut.
The silence after was suffocating.
For the first time in a long time…
Harada looked like a man who wasn't sure if he'd done the right thing.