#giulio

You’d locked up feelings and romantic ideals years ago when you became a pro hero. One of the best in the streets. A successor of All-Might himself. You had a lot riding on you and a lot you sacrificed to be what everyone needed. You weren’t just the number one hero, you were the shell of one. So being carted away, in unfamiliar arms, had your nerves on the edge. Not only that but… you couldn’t move.

Utterly exhausted.

The arms tightened around you as a corner was taken rather sharply. You tried lifting your head but you couldn’t even open your eyes fully. Only one eye opened to a slit, flashing lights above and the wisp of red hair beneath a helmet in the rushing wind. You blacked out, not sure how much time had passed but you awoke to sharp searing pain as the arms around you carried you from one place to another. Against everything, the strength and care you were carried in had your danger sense nullified. You were carried with the utmost compassion, like you were the most special of cargo. 

“This’ll have to do.” The man spoke as he kicked something aside and sat you gently down on a flat surface. The pain that shot through you was enough to get your adrenaline kicking in. You gasped in pain, eyes flying open as your hand shot out, grasping the man by the wrist. You didn’t hold him with the same care he held you, your touch was rough and demanding. 

“What happened?” You ground out, hand shaking. The man ignored your outburst and with practiced touch he examined your wound. He no longer dawned the helmet, must’ve taken it off before carrying you… wherever this was. He looked… kind? Albeit a little rough around the edge, stark red hair tied back out of his face, a strand loose and untamed. Dark eyes, one hidden behind a black eye patch, the other examining you, a hint of concern lining it.

“May I?” He asked, eyes not leaving your torso. You looked at his hands, he was asking permission to touch you. Gloved hands waiting for consent.

“I have to get back out there… soon.” Get back out where? You could barely remember what happened before this… what led you to this pain. Unable to even sit up. Still… that didn’t dull the fact you knew you were needed. A hero like you never rested. Not since becoming number one that is. The man's expression hardens at your words, his gaze flitting from your torso to your eyes.

“You’re in no condition to go anywhere,” He said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument. “Now, please, let me-”

“I don’t know you.” You pushed his hands away but the little movement was enough to have you gasping in pain, hand flying to your stomach. The man’s eyes narrow as you writhe in pain, he grabs your wrists, firmly but gently, preventing you from moving further. His grip is strong, but his touch is still careful not to cause you any more pain.

“You don’t know me, but that doesn’t matter right now does it?” He says insistently, eyes holding a resolute look. “You are my priority right now, and I won’t let you jeopardize yourself.” 

“Oh please,” You sighed, breathing unevenly. “I can still fight… I’ve had worse injuries.” A foolish thing to say considering you were wavering, paling by the second. But feeling useless and cared for wasn’t something you were used to. His grip tightens just barely and he leans closer, his gaze intense on yours. 

“You’re barely staying conscious.” His tone reflected determination and a hint of worry. You idly wondered who this man really was. “You can remain stubborn and die a bloody death or you can let me help you.” You preferred the first option but you knew that was only the worst part of you thinking that. You sighed, clenching your jaw, meeting his eyes. He stares back, his gaze unwavering. He can see the stubbornness in your eyes, your own determination that drove you. But it seemed he was equally resolute in his stance. You looked away, forcing yourself to sit up slightly to get any idea of your injuries. The man's hands flew to your shoulders. “Please.” There was… something in his voice, something in his eyes that had you stopping. 

“Alright.” You relented. “Make it quick.” His eyes harden, his jaw clenching. It’s clear he doesn’t approve with your insistence but he also understands the urgency.

“I’ll be as quick as I can, lay back.” He assures you, his voice unwavering. He turns away from you for a moment, rummaging through a nearby satchel. He returns to your side, gently lifting your shirt as you hiss in pain. “This is going to hurt.” 

“I’m aware.” You respond sharply. A grim determination washes over his face as he positions himself at your side. You notice then his hand wasn’t that at all, but a prosthetic as the cool metal soothes your hot skin. 

“I need you to stay still, or as still as possible.” He instructs, his voice a low rumble. “Take a deep breath.” You do and without further warning, he pours some alcohol onto the wound, the pain inevitable as it shocks through your system. You writhe in pain, trying to keep as still as possible, tears pricking the corner of your eyes. 

The fight before comes back to you in flashes at this moment. A man, tall and imposing, claiming to be the hero. Claiming to be your predecessor, All-Might. He looked like him. Just like him… it was alarming. You were angry… he’d… hurt someone? Pain seared through you. The man before you was there too. What was he doing there? Didn’t matter at the time. Your eyes and ambitions were set with taking out an imposter but… but he got you first. The loss was like a fresh lashing to your ego. You’ve never been good with losing. 

“Hey… hey wake up.” 

The last time you lost a lot of people got hurt because of you. You vowed never to let that happen again. Hero’s don’t lose. Losing meant death, and not just for the hero but the people they protected.

“Wake up!”

Your eyes fluttered open, an insistent hand patted your face before pause, the palm warm against your cheek. Your breathing was shallow, uneven. Hazily you blinked through your fogged mind. The man’s eyes widened above you, relief washing over him. He lets out a shaky breath, shoulders relaxing. 

“You gave me a damn scare.” He sighed, hand still on your face. 

“What… what happened?” You asked, voice soft and weak. You almost didn’t recognize it. 

“Don’t pass out on me again.” 

“I didn’t do it on purpose.” You swallowed dryly. “Got me stitched up?” The man nods his head and when you try to sit up his hands fly to your shoulders again, shaking his head. “Christ almighty, will you please just relax, you’ll reopen your stitches.” You stop, sighing. 

“You saved me. Why? You work with that… copycat?” You ask, voice coming back to its regular fluctuation. You didn’t feel as though you were riding on the line of life and death anymore. The man's eyes flick up to meet yours, there's a moment, something shared from him to you but you were like a brick wall. Walls as high as the heavens themself. He wasn’t getting through. Not now at least. 

“I don’t work for anyone.”

“So why save me?”

“I couldn’t just let you die.” He says that as though it should be obvious. 

“You were there, when I… fought that freak. Why were you there?” You asked, eyes hard. He seems unfazed by your questioning. Instead turns, grabbing a water pack. He hands it over to you.

“Drink and I’ll answer your questions.” He pushes the pack into your open hand, gently closing your fingers around it before pulling back. The moment was surprisingly… tender? Not that you had much knowledge of what that would feel like. All you knew was that his concern wasn’t going unnoticed by you, or more specifically your heart. It did a traitorous little flip when his hand brushed yours. You pulled back, dragging the pack to your lips. Taking a begrudging sip before thrusting it back towards him. He just simply shakes his head, his way of telling you it was yours to keep.

“Do you know who I am? Is that why you saved me?” The man lifts his gaze from your bandaged torso to your eyes once more. 

“Sure, I’ve seen you on TV before. You’re a big shot hero. It’s not why I saved you. I already told you why I saved you.”

“Big shot?” You echo, voice rasping. There’s a faint hint of amusement on his expression as he nods his head, reaffirming his words. 

“Big shot, big shit, whatever you want to call it.” He says, a slight shrug accompanying his words. “You’re well-known, after all.”

“A fan then?” If he wanted to be amused by the situation then so could you. After all, if he wanted to kill you he would’ve done it by now. There’s a brief pause, he looks up at you, brow raised. 

“Not really.” He admits, a ghost of a smirk on his lips. “Never been a fan of big shot heroes like yourself.”

“You sure swept me up like it.” You retorted, voice lulling. 

“Don’t get the wrong idea.” He says gruffly, his eyes focused on yours. “It was a spur-of-the-moment thing. I couldn’t just leave you bleeding out there.” His words are nonchalant, but his actions were anything but. His hands lingers on you, his eyes betraying his uncaring words. The look of someone hiding true intentions. 

“Sure,” You sat up, groaning in pain. The man tuts in disapproval, shaking his head.

“You’re unruly. Don’t move too much, you’ll rip your damn stitches.” He advises sternly, a frown on his face. 

“It’s inevitable, once I get back out there I’ll probably be a bleeding mess by the end of the fight. Might need another stitch up.” You say nonchalantly. You didn’t defeat that copycat, but you were going to. The man's expression grows sour as you mention fighting.

“Don’t you dare think about going out there. I get you’re a hero and all but there are other heroes.” He says firmly, voice gruff. “You can't even sit up without being in pain. Do you really think you can handle a fight in this state?”

“I need ten minutes. That’s all.” You sat up fully, ignoring the pain and hiding it the best you could. You leaned over, paling as you pulled your boots on, strapping them up. You know the look on the man's face as he continues, frustration clearly growing. 

“Ten minutes? Really? You think you’ll be in any condition to fight at all in ten minutes? You’ll just get yourself killed. And what good would that be for anyone?”

“Who’re you really? What’s your name?” You ask, though it sounded more like a demand. For a moment he doesn’t say anything, just stares at you like you were the most wild and unattainable nearly extinct creature. But after a moment his lips part and he speaks with a measured voice.

“Giulio.” 

“You care a lot for someone you just met, Giulio. Let alone a big shot hero like me.” 

A slight scoff escapes Giulio’s lips at your words. 

“Care? You heroes love to flatter yourself. I don’t care about you. I just don’t like seeing people make hard decisions when they can be easy.”

“There are no easy decisions when being a hero.” You grunt, reaching up and pulling your hair back out of your face. “I have people to save, I can’t just sit here on my ass.”

“I understand that but-”

“Enough.” You use a voice that leaves no room for argument. “I’m not some weakling you're tasked to look after. You know who I am, you know what I’m capable of and I don’t appreciate the babying.”

“Having someone care for you shouldn’t be taken as an insult.” He says but his voice wasn’t as fed up as yours was. You swallow and meet his eyes. “I apologize if I stepped over a line.” Your lips part but the fire in your stomach dissipates at his apology. You close your lips and sigh. You weren’t sure what was happening beyond the walls of this small room. Whether or not people were already dead, if your fellow heroes were alright. You were completely in the dark. But he wasn’t.

“If you're truly sorry you’ll tell me what happened after I got my ass kicked.” You say, rising to your feet. The pain is fresh, you stretch and hide it.

“We’re in some kind of… false world. Created by the quirk of the man who you fought.” 

“Is that so…” You say, flexing your hands, your powers flickering in your veins. Alive and ready for another round. “So if you're not working for that man… Why were you there?”

“He has someone I care for.” He says. You turn to face him, his face betrayed nothing like his voice did. 

“That blond girl? Is she your girlfriend or something?”

“Of course not.” Giulio dismissed, shaking his head like the idea was outlandish. “I worked for her. That’s all.”

“Right…” You say carefully. Not sure why the slight idea of someone you just met having feelings for someone else left a sour feeling in your stomach. “And you want to save her, right?” You ask as he nods his head, meeting your eyes. 

“And you want a rematch, right?” He asks and you almost smile at the insinuation. Or just the mere thought of righting the wrongs dealt to you. 

“It’s a bit more than that but it seems… our ambitions align.”

“It’d be in our best interest to work together to get what we want.” He agrees, rising from the spot he was sat in. He was taller than you, you hadn’t expected that. You looked up at him, a slow nod. 

“It does seem like that, doesn't it.” You say, looking him up and down. He didn't dress like a hero, nor like a normal person. He wore a scuffed up three piece suit. You gathered the woman taken was probably his employer, he can say he doesn't care for her all he wants but... there's some lengths you go that show your hand when it comes to those things. Though... he sort of went out of his way to help you... maybe he's just that kind of person. You weren't sure and dwelling on it did nothing good for the mission at hand. You weren't proud enough to turn away help, after all you two would be crossing paths anyways it seemed. "Alright." You relented, nodding your head. "But you have to promise something."

"What?"

"No getting starstruck by this big shot hero." You teased, hoping to see that ghost of a smirk again. As much as his face didn't want to, the amusement shone through.