Shadows of Identity

---

The hospital smelled like antiseptic and something heavier—grief that clung to the walls, invisible but suffocating. Nani walked slowly, every step unfamiliar in MJ's tall, confident frame. The polished floors reflected back a version of him he didn’t recognize. He had visited this hospital before—once when MJ had been hurt on a mission, once when one of their friends was sick. But this... this was different.

He wasn’t here as Nani anymore.

He was here to look at himself—his real body—lying unconscious in that room.

He hesitated at the door. His fingers trembled as he reached for the handle. Would he even be able to look? Would it hurt more than he could bear?

The moment he stepped inside, time seemed to stop.

There he was. Nani. His real body. Fragile, still, pale against the white hospital sheets. Machines beeped softly beside the bed. An IV line ran into his arm. There was no expression on his face, only a haunting emptiness that made Nani’s chest tighten.

He stumbled closer, legs shaking. Seeing himself like this—it broke something inside him.

"I'm sorry..." he whispered, though no one could hear. Not even himself. "I'm sorry I wasn’t stronger. I'm sorry you’re stuck there... while I'm here."

He stared at his own face—so familiar and yet so distant. He remembered MJ holding his hand when he was little, scolding him gently when he forgot his homework, protecting him like a wall no one could ever climb. And now, the one person who always protected him was gone—and Nani was wearing his face like a mask.

"I need you, MJ... please don’t leave me like this..."

Tears blurred his vision, but he quickly wiped them away. The nurse walked past the room, and Nani panicked. If anyone caught him crying like this, they’d think MJ was breaking down—and MJ never did that.

He had to leave. He had to breathe.

---

Later that day, he found himself walking into HQ, MJ’s ID card clutched tightly in his hand. The security team let him through immediately, offering respectful nods. "Welcome back, MJ."

Nani forced a stiff nod. His throat was dry. “Yeah…”

The hallways were buzzing with activity—agents in uniforms moving quickly, voices calling out intel, paperwork being passed down. It felt like stepping into another world, a world MJ belonged in. Not him.

But now he had to pretend.

---

The squad greeted him with nods and relieved smiles as he walked in. Dew gave him a short clap on the shoulder. “You’re back early,” he said. “We were starting to think the hospital kicked you out.”

Nani forced a smirk. “They tried.”

His voice cracked slightly, too soft, too uncertain. Dew paused—but said nothing.

As they made their way to the operations floor, Nani felt the pressure mount. Every hallway looked foreign. Every face unfamiliar. The walk was stiff, like wearing clothes too big for your skin. His heart pounded in his ears.

Then came the elevator.

He stepped in last, trying to act confident, but as the elevator jolted slightly—just a little bump—he lost balance. His foot caught the edge of the threshold and he stumbled forward.

A strong arm grabbed him by the wrist.

Sky.

The taller man didn’t say anything at first, just held him steady. Their eyes met briefly, and Nani saw it—concern, but also confusion.