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It’s dark when Tamaki wakes up. Dark, damp, and a little bit cold. The air smells like dust and there’s an odd panting sound coming from somewhere above him and to the left. Something akin to a low whine, or a high groan, comes from that same spot above him, and it alarms him into trying to sit up.
“Tamaki?” and it’s very much Kirishima above him. His voice sounds remarkably strained, though. “Are you awake?”
“Yeah,” Tamaki mumbles back, still trying to get his arms under him. It’s not working well, and he thinks his right one may be broken. “What happened?”
“The building we were in collapsed,” Kirishima replies, his voice taking on the airy and relaxed nature he has when he isn’t too riled up. “We’re in one of the basement parking lot levels, I think.”
“‘kay,” Tamaki grunts as he finally manages to sit himself up.
“Are you hurt?” Kirishima asks. Quickly assessing himself, Tamaki finds that besides his arm, a few minor scrapes, and a concussion, he’s unharmed. He shakes his head, then remembers that Kirishima can’t see him.
“No, I’m alright,” He shifts and reaches for his phone in his pocket, wondering if Kirishima didn’t already think of their phone flashlights. He finds his and with fumbling, shaking hands, turns the light on. The cramped space is bathed in a pale glow, and he’s finally able to see their surroundings, and Kirishima.
They’re boxed completely in by debris on all sides, and the space they have is a small circle about seven feet in diameter. Water is trickling down through some cracks, not enough to be of a concern, thankfully. There is definitely air flow, which is also a relief.
But the reason there is a space for them to exist in at all is thanks to Kirishima himself. He’s stood in almost the exact center, skin fully hardened, holding up the massive chunk of concrete that creates their roof.
“‘shima,” Tamaki murmurs, going slack-jawed. Blood pours from cracks in Kirishima’s skin, dripping onto the floor and adding to the small puddles of it already there. His teeth are grit and his face, though rock solid, is pinched as much as it can be with pain. He trembles all over, though mostly in his arms and legs, which seem to be barely holding on. “How long have we been down here?”
“Not too long, an hour, maybe?” he shrugs as best he can. “Maybe a little more than that?”
“And you’ve kept your hardening up the whole time?” Tamaki squawks. Kirishima responds with a tight nod. “Ok, it’s ok, I’m gonna call for help now. You’re doing great, ‘shima.” He takes a moment to steady his own breathing before tapping Fatgum’s contact and dialing. It only takes half a ring for him to answer.
“T- Sun Eater?” Fatgum’s voice is static-laced and very afraid. It’s odd to hear on him, since he’s usually so upbeat. “Where are you guys? Are you hurt?”
“We’re in the lower levels of the collapsed building,” Kirishima answers. “I’m not sure what floor, but definitely the parking garage. And we’re alright. Just some minor stuff.”
“Kirishima has been holding up a piece of debris for however long we’ve been down here,” Tamki tattles, ignoring the look Kirishima gives him for it. “How long have we been down here? ‘shima wasn’t sure.”
“‘bout an hour and a half,” Fatgum says, his tone sounding all the more panicked. “We’re gonna get you guys soon, I promise. They know where to look now, so they should have an easier time finding you. Put Kirishima on.”
“You’re on speaker,” Kirishima mumbles. In this quiet space, he can be heard loud and clear, even through the phone.
“Alright, Kirishima, you need to answer honestly because this is very important,” Fatgum’s using his serious voice.
“‘kay.”
“Have you been using your Hardening this entire time?”
“Yes.”
“Scale of one to ten, how badly does it hurt?” Kirishima hesitates, glancing at Tamaki, then the phone. “Answer me honestly, Kirishima. No one’s judgin’ you.”
“...seven,” it’s a soft admission, but again, there’s almost no other sounds, so he’s heard perfectly clearly. “Maybe an eight when I… when I breathe too deeply.” Now that Tamaki is looking, Kirshima’s chest is rising and falling quickly, too quickly, really.
“Ok, that’s ok, thank you for being honest,” Fatgum sighs and for a moment the line is silent. “We’ll be there soon, they’re just clearing some stuff away now. How are you holding up?” There’s another pause, in which Kirishima seems to debate with himself on what to say.
“Uh, not…” he looks at the phone, then Tamaki, then the floor. He seems ashamed, and for the life of him Tamaki can’t figure out why. “Not very well, Fat. It hurts real- really bad and my arms feel like they’re gonna- gonna shatter, and my legs aren’t doin’ much better.” He sounds near tears, and Tamaki feels supremely guilty.
“You’re going to be ok, Kirishima, I promise,” Fatgum says, soothingly, gently. “We’re comin’ for ya’, bud.” Kirishima sniffs and nods. “Amajiki, how are you doing?”
“Fine,” Tamaki replies. “Pretty sure I’ve got a minor concussion, some scrapes and stuff, and I think my right arm is broken.” He’s almost impressed by his own ability to relay information like that. He’s almost proud of himself for managing to stay calm in such a precarious, terrifying situation.
“Ok, not bad,” Fatgum seems to be pondering something, muttering quietly in a way that makes it so they can’t hear his words. “I hate to ask this, I really do, but is there any way you can get up and look around for any gaps, anywhere to escape from?”
“I can look, but I’m willing to bet we’re surrounded on all sides,” Tamaki replies, dragging himself to a standing position, having to duck his head a little. Sure enough, even when he manages to move a few pieces of concrete, he’s met with more. “No, it doesn’t look like we’ll be able to get out at all.”
“Well, that’s what I expected,” Fatgum sighs again. “Can’t say I’m not a little disappointed. Alright, thank you for checking, Amajiki.” But Tamaki continues looking for another minute, until he pulls away a particularly large piece of debris and the entire ‘room’ shakes.
Kirishima cries out, and his knees seem to buckle for a second. He nearly falls, but manages to activate his Unbreakable, which he had just been teetering on the edge of, to keep himself up.
“What happened? What was that?” Fatgum demands as Tamaki quietly sits back down. There’s nothing he can do to help, he sees that now, so he’s going to try to get out of the way instead.
“I’m so sorry, Kirishima,” he says, trying not to cry as tears finally drip out of Kirishima’s eyes and roll down his face. To Fatgum he says; “I moved a piece that dislodged some stuff and the ceiling-” he swallows. “Nearly fell on us.” Kirishima’s arms are cracking further, the seams between the hardened plates of his skin are leaking blood in steady streams, and he looks like he’s in agony, his teeth grit and his eyes squeezed shut.
“Kirishima, are you alright?” Fatgum asks, less gently than he was speaking earlier. Tamaki thinks he must be really worried if he can’t even control his own tone.
“O-k,” Kirishima eeks out from between his teeth. His voice wavers and quakes, sounding as close to breaking as his skin looks. Unbreakable is slowly melting away into the almost-but-not-Unbreakable it had been before they were almost crushed. “I’ve-” he pants. “Got it. Don’t you even worry, Fat, I can handle it.” He forces some of his Red Riot voice into it, but it isn’t the least bit convincing.
“I know you can, bud,” Fatgum doesn’t sound the least bit convinced. “But, just in case you can’t, I want you to know how proud of you I am. You’re doing so amazing, especially for a hero your age. I’m so proud of you, Riot.”
And it hits Tamaki like a ton of bricks; Fatgum doesn’t think they’ll make it. Or, at least, he doesn’t think Kirishima will.
“Tamaki, take me off speaker, please,” Fatgum says. Tamaki does so, holding the phone up to his ear. “Can you use your powers at all? Use your tentacles to take some of the load off of him?”
“No,” Tamaki replies. Kirishima doesn’t seem to be listening, and the trembling has gotten a lot worse. “I’m not really sure, uh, why, but no.”
“Ok,” Fatgum is quiet for a moment. “Listen, he’s not going to be able to hold out much longer, and I’m not sure how long it’ll take for us to find you. I think we’re pretty close, but I doubt he has enough time left. If that roof comes down, don’t try to help him. There’s nothing you can do, ok? You need to try to save yourself and hope his Hardening will protect him.”
“I can’t just-”
“Yes, you can, and you have to,” Fatgum interrupts in his serious voice again. It makes Tamaki swallow. “He has a better chance than you do, and I’d rather not lose either of you, but I’d take one over both.” It’s disgustingly grim, and horrifyingly blunt. But he’s right. Part of being a hero is realizing you can’t always save everyone, and sometimes you have to pick between one or none. “I’m so sorry, Tamaki, I really am, but if that ceiling comes down and you try to help him you will get crushed. He might not.”
“I… understand,” Tamaki’s mouth feels dry. He looks back at Kirishima, who is still panting, still crying, still bleeding. He’s not so sure Kirishima has a chance on his own, even with his Hardening, but that doesn’t mean Tamaki will be able to help him. “I understand.”
“God,” Fatgum sounds near tears, too, which makes Tamaki feel at least a little bit better about his own shattering resolve. “You can put me back on speaker now.”
“‘kay,” Tamaki agrees, pulling the phone away from his face and putting it back on speaker.
“Can you hear me, Riot?” Fatgum asks. He sounds more put together, but Tamaki thinks that Kirishima wouldn’t notice even if he didn’t.
“Y-yeah,” Kirishima sounds wrecked, huffing and panting and cracking as he is.
“Awesome,” Fatgum says. “We’re almost there, I think. Just a little longer, then you can let go.” Kirishima is not listening. “Eraser’s showed up, y’know. Some of your classmates, too. The angry one, the blonde with the lightning, a few others. They’re helpin’ us look.”
“N-nice,” says Kirishima. Tamaki has a sneaking suspicion that he would’ve said that no matter what he was replying to. “It hurts, Fat. I don’t know if I can- if I’m gonna make it.”
“You will,” Fatgum promises. “You will, Kirishima, because you’re Red Riot, and Red Riot isn’t going to be bested by some cement.” Normally a challenge like that would have Kirishima shouting something, excitedly proclaiming how Fatgum is right, and he’s ‘too manly’ to die like this. But, Kirishima doesn’t do that. If anything, he looks like he’s in even more pain.
“Fat, is Amajiki gonna be ok?” he asks, dully. He sounds tired. Tamaki’s heart pangs. “When my arms give out, is he gonna die?”
“Don’t worry about me,” Tamaki cuts in before Fatgum can interrupt. “You saved me, I’m fine. I’ll be fine. But you’ve gotta hold on a little longer, right? Because I don’t want you to get crushed.”
“I can do that,” Kirishima hastily nods. “Just a little longer, then I can let go? And you’ll be ok?”
“I will,” Tamaki agrees. “I promise.” Kirisima’s eyes flutter before fully opening. He seems to search Tamaki’s gaze for any hint of a lie, and smiles when he doesn’t seem to find one.
“Good, ‘cause, I think I can’t hold on anymore,” his eyes shut again, and this time they do not open.
“Tamaki, Tamaki, keep him awake, keep him talking, we’re right on top of you!” Fatgum orders.
“Kirishima! You’ve gotta stay awake!” Tamaki relays, forcing himself up, ignoring the way his arm sends sickening waves of pain across his body, and his head spins from the concussion. He takes Kirishima’s still hardened face in his hands, even the broken one, and gently taps his cheeks. “Come on, Riot, you can do it.” Rubble shifts around them, and Kirishima whines. “You’ve made it this far, you can’t give up now.”
“Can’t…” Kirishima’s eyes flutter again, opening, but only as slivers. His skin is rapidly softening as his consciousness wanes.
“Right, right, can’t give up,” Tamaki prods, all but begging. There are voices above them, hasty and panicked. “Do you hear them? They’re right above us! You did it.”
“Did… it,” Kirishima goes limp in Tamaki’s hands, and his arms fall to his sides as his knees go out from under him. Tamaki catches him, crying out as his arm is forced to do work it’s not very capable of doing right now, and lowers the pair of them to the floor.
“Kirishima? Kirishima!?” Tamaki frantically pats Kirishima’s cheek, the one that isn’t resting against Amajiki’s shoulder, and looks up. The debris ceiling is not falling on them. For a moment, it hangs suspended, and Tamaki wonders if Kirishima was really holding it up, then it moves. Up and out of sight it goes, revealing a pale blue sky and several frightened faces. “Help.” Tamaki sobs, looking for Fatgum. “Help, Fatgum, please, someone- someone, please, help-”
“You’re ok,” Fatgum says, climbing into the hole and pulling Tamaki into his side. “Everyone’s ok.”
“He’s not,” Tamaki blubbers, sobbing harshly. “Look’it him, he’s- he’s-”
“Breathing,” Fatgum says, rubbing a hand along Tamaki’s left arm. “He’s breathing. So what does that mean?”
“That- that he’s alive?” Tamaki mumbles, observing that, yes, in fact, Kirishima’s chest is rising. It’s much slower than earlier, too, which is good.
“Right, so what should you be doing?”
“Getting us out of here.”
“Right,” Fatgum stands, lifting Kirishima away from Tamaki and into his own arms. “And breathing. Smell that fresh air, Sun Eater.” He takes an exaggerated breath and lets it out with a contented sigh that is definitely being played up to calm Tamaki.
“Tamaki,” Mirio jumps into the hole, wrapping Amajiki in a crushing hug that somehow does not aggravate his injuries. “Dude, I was so worried.”
“Sorry,” says Tamaki, returning the hug as best he can.
“I’m just happy you’re ok,” Mirio laughs, knocking their foreheads together, lightly. “Let’s go get you patched up, ok?”
“Ok.”
Kirishima wakes a day later. He’s lying in a hospital bed, with Tamaki right beside him, looking only a little bit disheveled.
He comes to with little fanfare, just the droning of the heart rate monitor slowly filtering into his ears, and his mouth tasting all kinds of gross, and his body aching in a way he is only a little bit unfamiliar with.
“‘jiki?” he croaks, peeling his eyes open and spotting Tamaki, who startles.
“Kirishima!” he exclaims, sitting up straighter and smiling brightly in a way he rarely does. “I’m so glad you’re finally awake.” Kirishima hums. “Do you remember what happened? We were under a building and you were holding up the ceiling. Yes?” A nod. “I wanted to say thank you. So much. You saved me.”
“‘Course, man!” Kirishima says. “Any time!” Tamaki huffs a laugh and climbs onto the bed to wrap Kirishima in a crushing hug.
“Thank you.”