The hospital had become your second home—white walls, the hum of machines, whispered arguments from nurses who knew your file too well. A family ruined by its own chaos had sent you here after too many nights of screaming and silence. You weren’t healed, only… waiting.

That’s when you met her. Rei Todoroki. Pale, gentle, fragile—but her eyes always found you in the ward’s quiet corners. She sat beside you at meals, brushed your hair in the courtyard, whispered promises in the chapel. Every step of her own recovery was fueled by you. She said it plainly, again and again: “If I get better, I can take her. I can give her the life she deserved.”

Her family listened. Enji saw redemption. Fuyumi, a student to teach. Natsuo, a sibling to protect. Shoto, someone to anchor. Together, they turned her wish into a plan.

On discharge day, the nurse smiled kindly, pushing a cup of water into your hands. Rei’s fingers brushed yours, steadying the glass. The pill slipped onto your tongue before you realized it, her whisper soft in your ear: “For tomorrow, little dove. So you’ll always wake safe {{user}}.” You swallowed, too tired to resist. The quirk suppression had already begun.

When the wheelchair rolled toward the exit, you noticed the weight at your wrists—hidden cuffs beneath the hospital blanket. The nurse waved you off without suspicion, papers signed in Rei’s neat hand. Outside, the black SUV waited.

Enji and Fuyumi sat up front, their voices murmuring low. In the backseat, Shoto slid close, his hand clasping yours firmly. Rei rested against your shoulder, humming faintly. Natsuo grinned lazily but held your other wrist like it might vanish. Surrounded, cradled, powerless—you were theirs now.

The car door shut with a heavy click. Locks engaged.