Darkness.
Then, a sound, mechanical breathing that filled the void.
Khhh-pshh... khhh-pshh...
Anakin's eyes snapped open. White hospital ceiling. The rhythmic beep of monitors replaced the breathing from his vision. His head felt heavy, thoughts sluggish from pain medication.
He tried to push himself up with his right arm. Nothing moved. Memory hit him - the fight, Ventress, searing pain.
"Don't try to move." His mom sat in a chair beside the bed, dark circles under her eyes. "The doctors said you need rest."
Anakin swallowed, his throat dry. "How long?"
"Two days." She helped him drink some water. "Gran-Gran Chiyo stopped by, but there's only so much she can do."
The cup shook in his left hand. Water spilled onto the sheets.
"Here." His mom steadied his grip. Like he was three again, learning to hold things.
"Nejire found you," she said after a moment. "She's been here every day after school. Mirio too."
Anakin nodded, not trusting his voice. The breathing from his vision echoed in his mind.
A knock at the door. Kenobi entered, looking more tired than Anakin had ever seen him.
"The police want to talk to you," he said. "When you're ready."
"About Ventress?"
"About what happened. Self-defense is clear, but they need your statement."
Anakin closed his eyes. He could still feel her throat crushing in his grip. Still hear the crack of breaking bones.
"I killed her."
"You defended yourself," his mom said firmly.
They hadn't seen his face when he did it. Hadn't felt what he felt.
"The police ruled it self-defense," Kenobi said. "No charges. They know she attacked you first."
Anakin let his head fall back against the pillow.
"Principal Nezu already called," his mom added. "The school's handling the media and he said the support department is making a replacement already."
Another knock. Nejire poked her head in, still in her UA uniform. Her usual energy seemed subdued.
"You're awake." She stepped inside, hovering near the door. "I can come back-"
"No, it's fine." Anakin said
His mom stood. "I need coffee anyway. Obi-Wan?"
Kenobi nodded, following her out. The door clicked shut.
Nejire moved closer, taking the chair his mom had left. "How are you feeling?"
"Like I lost an arm."
Nejire didn't laugh. Her usual brightness felt dimmed, like she wasn't sure how to act around him now.She opened her mouth, then closed it, her hands twisting in her lap."Nejire?"She blinked, startled. "Sorry. I just—when I found you, I thought—" She bit her lip. "I was scared."Anakin exhaled slowly. "Me too."She met his eyes, "Are you… okay?"He could have lied. Said he was fine. Instead, he just looked away. "I don't know."Nejire hesitated before reaching out, resting her hand lightly over his left.Her touch was warm.For the first time since waking up, Anakin felt something other than the hollow ache of loss.
Silence stretched between them. Not uncomfortable, just heavy with things unsaid.
"The news is calling it justified," she said finally. "Self-defense. The police found evidence she'd killed others."
"I didn't think about that. When I..." He stopped.
"Hey." Nejire said, "You survived. That's what matters."
"I'm starving," Nejire said, rubbing her stomach after moving her arm off Anakin's left arm.
Nejire walked to the door and said, "I'm going to find something to eat. Do you want anything?"
"Just grab me whatever you can find," Anakin said, stifling a yawn.
Several minutes later, Nejire bounced in, holding a plastic bag. "I brought you some real food. The hospital food is basically poison."
She dropped into the chair. "Mirio is stuck with his dad, but he's coming tomorrow. He'll probably make some dumb joke about phasing through hospital walls."
"Thanks." Anakin looked at the bag. "For everything."
"Don't get all serious on me now." She pulled out snacks. "Here. Actual food that doesn't taste like cardboard."
"The Principal called," Anakin said between bites. "They're working on something."
"For your arm?"
"Yeah. Gonna take a while though."
Nejire opened more snacks, setting them where he could reach easily.
They talked about nothing important until visiting hours ended. As she left, Nejire promised homework - like everything was normal. Like three days ago hadn't happened at all.
That night, Detective Tsukauchi took his statement, asking direct questions without judgment. Yes, she attacked first. No, he didn't have his weapon. Yes, he used his quirk to defend himself.
"The case is clear," Tsukauchi said, closing his notebook. "You were attacked by a known villain. Everything after that was survival."
Anakin stared at the hospital ceiling, alone with his thoughts.
That night, after Detective Tsukauchi had taken his statement and the hospital corridors had quieted down, Megumi stepped out for a brief respite from the ward. As she made her way down the softly lit hallway, a calm voice called out from behind her.
"Skywalker-san," Garaki said, stepping forward with his signature polite bow.
Startled for a moment, Megumi managed a gentle smile. "Garaki-shacho, is everything all right?"
Garaki's expression remained composed and courteous. "I was inquiring about Anakin-kun. How is he progressing?" he asked, his tone warm yet strictly professional.
"He's stable now," Megumi replied, glancing briefly at the quiet corridor. "The doctors are optimistic about his recovery, and his pain seems to be easing."
Garaki nodded, his gaze steady. "Very good. I want you to know that all his medical expenses will be covered by Jaku General Hospital. Please consider it a gesture of support during this difficult time."
Megumi's eyes widened slightly in surprise and then softened with relief. "Thank you, Garaki-shacho. That is very kind of you," she said, her voice sincere but tinged with the exhaustion of long shifts and endless worry.
"Of course," he responded smoothly, the polite cadence of his speech leaving no hint of any hidden agenda. "It is our duty to ensure that all our patients receive the best care without undue burden. If you require any further assistance, do not hesitate to ask."
Megumi nodded, grateful for his generosity. As Garaki offered one final courteous bow and returned to his duties, she allowed herself a small, hopeful smile, comforted by the public kindness of a man who, in a world filled with heroes and hardships, always seemed to do what was right.
***
In a dimly lit room, a monitor flickered with grainy footage.
The Scarred Man sat motionless in the shadows, watching the replay with intense focus. The screen paused on Anakin's unconscious form, his pale body resting against the hospital sheets. The stump of his right arm was wrapped in bandages.
He let the silence linger, deep in thought.
"You were not meant to fall so easily," he whispered, almost contemplatively.
His fingers drummed slowly and deliberately against the arm of his chair.
Ventress had failed him, but that was to be expected.
He had anticipated the boy would beg, weep, and crumble under the weight of loss. Instead, Anakin had fought, survived, and killed.
A small, dark amusement curled at the corners of his lips.
"Pain shapes us. And you have only begun to understand its gifts."
The shadows in the room seemed to deepen as he leaned back, exhaling.
"You will learn." With a tap of his fingers, the screen went black.
Darkness enveloped the room once more.