(AHHH LOOK!! This is by @myyszka.png on IG!! I love it so much sdfsdag)

All Might ends up giving Izuku a week to decide, which is honestly a lot more time than the boy deserves. It's not enough, though. Could any amount of time ever be enough? Not for this, Izuku thinks. Never for this.

He's running through the city, bōstaff clutched tightly in one hand as he glides over rooftops and street wires. It's getting a little warmer out, and he's incredibly thankful for that fact. His costume doesn't do much against the cold.

He has to distract himself, at least for a little while. Patrolling usually does the trick; it helps calm his nerves. Getting into little skirmishes with criminals helps ground him, in a way.

Because here's the thing: Izuku loves the fight. He loves it more than he loves living, because it feels good, because it's familiar, because it's the one thing he can control. Because as insane or sick as it sounds, the split second before his fist connects with bone and flesh is the only second where he can breathe.

And by god does he need to breathe at this very second.

He's very close to breaking down. He can feel it. He can feel the itch under his skin, the tightness near his eyes and mouth; everything feels so acutely wrong and he doesn't know why. Actually, scratch that, he does know. Just doesn't want to admit it.

Izuku already knows the story about One for All. Has known since the very beginning, even before All Might came into his life. How could he not with who his father is?

And that's another issue entirely. Izuku fights because it's all he knows. He wants to fight, because it's easy for him. He needs it, which is why he's out here today. This situation of his is peculiar, and it's making Izuku feel worse than ever.

He's leading All Might on. Deep down, there has always been that small inkling at the back of Izuku's mind that says he's only training me because he's getting old and needs a successor, but he's never let himself believe that for more than a moment. He's not a good choice to be anyone's successor, much less All Might's.

Izuku briefly wonders if All for One is included on that list, but then pushes that thought away. He doesn't need another reason to spiral into that pit of despair.

Maybe his thinking isn't entirely incorrect. Maybe he is nothing but a pawn in All Might's game, just the next step in the course to defeating the evil in this world, as that's what One for All's purpose is, right? To defeat All for One?

Would he have offered it to me if he knew who I was—no, who I am?

Izuku doubts it. He'd probably be in a dark prison cell if the number one hero knew. Tartarus doesn't sound too improbable, if he's being honest, but that would be the best case scenario. More than likely Izuku would be experimented on like some lab rat since having multiple quirks is practically unheard of.

The Commission has done it before. Izuku knows they won't hesitate to do it again, even with a child.

The other thing that's been nagging at Izuku is that he hasn't told Kacchan about All Might's offer. His friend will obviously be on board with it if it means Izuku will tell someone about his powers, which will never happen. Not if he has any say in it, at least.

And Izuku hates it. He hates the situation. Hates the lying and the confusion and the feeling in his gut that's telling him to just give in. He hates himself for even thinking about accepting the quirk. He already knew about it, of course, but it doesn't make it any better. He shouldn't even be near All Might, much less talking to him and training with him and eating fucking sandwiches with him. 

He should've said no, right then and there. Right when the words One for All left the hero's mouth. It should've been simple, and yet here he is, thinking about it.

The explanation took a good ten minutes, and that was just All Might explaining the basics of what his quirk does and how the transfer works, of what Izuku, in all senses, shouldn't already know. And the boy stayed quiet the entire time, frozen in thought, because again, he had a feeling this would happen, but it didn't quite set in until that very moment.

"You don't have to say anything right now, Young Midoriya, I am merely informing you of what you might expect should you say yes."

Izuku doesn't speak. Can't speak. Because if he does, he might just blurt out that godforsaken word after all, and then everyone will end up dead one way or another.

"How does a week sound? I don't mean to pressure you."

The boy nods his head. He understands. Deadlines are deadlines. The number one hero has to move on to someone else if Izuku doesn't accept.

That's just the way the world works.

Izuku finds himself pacing on top of a bank near his building a few hours into his impromptu patrol. He never usually strays this close to his house, but it's whatever. It's not like there's specific territory he's not allowed to go in. Most areas are free range for him, being a vigilante and all. Minor rules such as no trespassing don't apply to him.

A gang runs this part of the town, he knows, but he's on good terms with them. They don't harm anyone innocent and never cause much property damage. If anything, the gang kind of protects the residents of this neighborhood from other, more violent organized crime units. So Izuku doesn't snitch on them or take them down, and in return they won't come after him. It's a win-win.

The bank he's on is still open, even at this time of night—well, morning, he should say, as it's currently one o'clock. The lights are still on despite practically no one coming in. That's always how it is in these parts.

The only people who go to a bank at this hour are robbers and vigilantes. And apparently, Izuku finds, underground heroes.

"A figure is approaching to your left."

It seems his AI works after all.

Izuku turns his head just in time to see Eraserhead drop down from a neighboring building and walk toward him, hands in his pockets.

"Rabbit."

Izuku nods at the greeting and resumes his pacing, not offering any verbal reply.

They still meet at their spot every Friday, but nowadays they seem to see each other more often, even when they're both patrolling on opposite sides of the city. Izuku is starting to think it's not as accidental as Eraserhead says.

The hero doesn't seem put off by his silence, though, and he stops a couple feet away to watch Izuku's stressed walking. "You know, I was hoping to see you at the entrance exam."

It's more of a question. A baited one, at that. Izuku can identify it because he asks those kinds of questions all the time; that's how you get information out of people. He doesn't really mind the underground hero doing it to him, so he just plays along, still only half paying attention. "Who's to say I wasn't there?"

Eraserhead huffs, sounding amused. "Thought you'd say that. But to be frank, I don't think you'd have jeopardized your position like that."

Damn. That's what Izuku thought, too.

The boy stops his pacing to glare at the other. "I don't know if I should feel offended or not."

"Depends on if you actually went and took it." Eraserhead sits on the ledge, wordlessly beckoning him over. He's obviously just teasing now; he doesn't know what Izuku has done. "Here, I brought you something."

"Please tell me it's not your mixtape."

The man shoots him an unimpressed look and throws something at him. "An egg and cheese sandwich, actually."

"Oh." Izuku frowns a bit. "Thank you."

"No problem, kid. Now are you going to stand there all day or come sit down?"

Izuku's legs move on their own accord. He's eaten an early breakfast with the hero before, but never like this. And never this close to Izuku's house. If he looks, the boy can just see the top of his building less than half a mile away. It's kind of unsettling, knowing Eraserhead is this close to it.

That feeling is like the cherry on top to everything that's weighing him down right now. Those fears and doubts wash over him again like a tidal wave, and he finds himself glaring at the streets below, the sandwich still clutched between his hands.

Here he is, sitting next to Eraserhead on a roof like they've done a hundred times before, eating breakfast like he's not currently in the middle of a mid-life crisis. And yes, he's going to call it a mid-life crisis because he's not sure what part of his life could be considered the middle. In fact, now that he's thought about it, he's going to have an ongoing crisis.

Eraserhead chews on his own sandwich for a bit—turkey with mayo and mustard, Izuku guesses, as that's what he always gets—before glancing at him. "Came across a few villains tied up at a convenience store a couple blocks away. Was that you?"

Izuku is brought out of his thinking momentarily. "Uh, yeah, that was—that was me, I think." He laughs awkwardly. "Can't really remember right now."

Did he do that? Probably. His knuckles burn a little bit. His gloves only offer so much protection when he punches with his enhancements.

Eraserhead quirks a brow. "You alright?"

Izuku opens his mouth but nothing comes out, the weight of everything crashing down and constricting his throat.

He's not.

Izuku's breaths suddenly come shallow, too shallow. He can barely breathe anymore. But he sits there, face perfectly expressionless, body as still as possible while he's suffocating, knowing the man beside him can feel every centimeter of his movements, every single one of his tells.

They've known each other for quite a while now. Izuku doesn't want to lie, but he also doesn't want to appear weak. Because damn it all he should not be stressing this much over All Might's question; a question that should be easy for Izuku to answer. Why can't he just say no? It's the only option for him. The only choice.

His mind is telling him that it's a bad idea, that this hesitance of his will get him killed, that he'll hurt All Might, he'll hurt everyone. But his instincts are screaming at him to just accept it, because don't you want it? Don't you want that power?

The voice at the back of his head is back, and it's louder than ever. You're not stealing it. He's practically begging for you to take it. Do him a favor and just say yes. You want it.

"Kid?"

Izuku grits his teeth. He recognizes the tone and doesn't quite care for it. It's the tone Eraserhead uses to calm down civilians after rescuing them from a burning building or something. It's not soft, but it doesn't hold his usual gruffness either.

The hero is using that voice on Izuku now, and the boy doesn't like it. "I'm good," he grits out. Because he is. He's okay. As much as he can be, at least.

"Rabbit, are you—"

"Can I ask you a question?"

Eraserhead's gaze burns his skin, but the boy can't bring himself to meet it just yet. He takes the silence as a cue to continue, so he does.

"If someone offers you something that you know you shouldn't have, like you really shouldn't have it, but you really really want it—what do you do? Is there even a choice at that point?"

The sudden silence that follows his outburst stretches on for a good ten seconds, and Izuku winces. Just as he's about to open his mouth to say forget about it, I'm stupid, don't listen to me, Eraserhead speaks.

"I guess it depends on what that something is. For example," he tilts his head, "drugs."

Izuku chokes at the randomness, the sandwich very nearly falling out of his hands when he glares at the man. "What, no! It's not—it's not drugs. Why do you always assume that?"

"I don't. Just wanted to bring you back to yourself."

And oh. Izuku's eyes fall back to the ground, listening to the hero eat the last bite of his turkey sandwich before crumpling up the wrapper and shoving it in his pocket.

(Eraserhead is not, in fact, a litterbug. He's lectured Izuku twice before for throwing something on the ground during patrol. It's safe to say that Izuku doesn't litter anymore, and sometimes he even finds himself yelling at other people who do it.)

"Finish your food before it gets cold," the man orders, pointing to Izuku's own sandwich.

Izuku fights the urge to roll his eyes. It was already cold, he wants to say, but stops himself. He's definitely not ungrateful. And besides, egg and cheese sandwiches taste better cold. He will die on that hill before admitting otherwise.

"And to answer your other question," Eraserhead continues. "There's always a choice. It doesn't matter what anyone says you shouldn't do or have. The only thing you should consider is if you know you shouldn't have it." He stretches, his back popping a couple times. "But even then, most people are biased against themselves. I'm assuming you either can't or won't tell me what it is, right?"

Izuku just nods, feeling the tightness in his chest loosen up as he listens to Eraserhead's voice. The man is smart; he's logical. If Izuku wants anyone's advice, it's his.

"Okay. So I can't really tell you anything of use. What I can tell you, however, is that sometimes it's not always a bad thing to have something you think you shouldn't. Some of the best things in my life have come to me when I thought I'd be best without them."

Is it just Izuku, or is Eraserhead speaking almost wistfully now? He sounds fucking ancient.

"That being said," the hero nudges his shoulder, "do what you want to do. Just make sure you're safe, alright?"

Safe. Will Izuku be safe if he says yes? His first answer is no, not in a million years. Not with who he is and what he was made to be. But the more he thinks about it, the more Izuku realizes that maybe this isn't such a bad idea. The more he realizes that One for All will make him stronger. He can—he can protect himself, right? From who, he isn't quite sure.

And more than that, he can protect others. Sure, he's doing that right now, even when technically being a criminal. He's helping others, and that's enough for the moment. But in the long run, what good is he doing against top-tier villains? Against people like All for One?

Nothing. He's not strong enough for that. He won't be, not ever. But with One for All...

Is this selfish? Wanting a power he's not supposed to have just because of his blood? Wanting another quirk on top of the other stolen ones?

Izuku isn't the one who stole them, at least not all of them, but that doesn't really matter. What matters is that All Might chose him, so that has to mean something.

Or maybe Izuku is looking too far into this and All Might really is desperate. Maybe he doesn't really see Izuku for who he is, he just sees him as a potential vessel.

But would that be unfair to say about the man? With how much time he's put into Izuku?

"What's that on your wrist?"

The boy brightens up immediately, pushing aside his rising panic. So what if Eraserhead is just trying to distract him? He's grateful for it. "It's my new AI. Do you like her? I made her myself!"

"Holy shit, kid." Eraserhead leans closer to peer at the small screen on the boy's forearm. "From scratch?"

"I mean, I stole a few things from some dumpsters, but I put it all together."

The man laughs quietly. "'Course you did. What can it do?"

"It's a her! She's named AINA. Short for Artificial and Intelligent Notification Analyst. A mouthful, I know." Izuku taps on the screen, giggling at the surprised look that crosses Eraserhead's face when the device flashes to life as a mini hologram. "I programmed her to be kind of like a phone, but she can do a lot more than that. She has access to the internet, like most things, but she also has a mind of her own. Here, say something!"

Izuku disables the earbud feature and holds out his arm, gesturing for the hero to speak.

Eraserhead blinks at him in disbelief. "Uh, hello?"

"Welcome, Eraserhead. What activities would you like me to complete today?"

The hero tenses, causing Izuku to immediately wince. "Ah, should've warned you first. When I said she has access to the internet, I mean she has access to everything on the internet. She knows your real name, too, hope you don't mind."

"Guess I don't have a choice," he says, though he doesn't sound upset. "I'm more surprised at how she recognized my voice."

"Oh, she's called an analyst for a reason! She can go through any security footage and match up faces with voices and stuff. Didn't take me a while to get her coding done, but integrating her into my house and device here was a pain in the ass."

Eraserhead hums. "That's a lot of talent, kid. You'd make a damn good support hero."

Support hero. The words hit him like freight train. Holy fuck, why didn't I think of that? I could make devices for other heroes and wouldn't even have to use my quirks.

Damnit. Maybe he should've applied for the support course. That would've been easier to juggle with the rest of his chaotic life.

When Izuku tunes back in, Eraserhead is already standing up. He looks to have been scrolling through the options and capabilities AINA has while Izuku was dissociating.

"It's already past two, so I've gotta go, alright? My patrol ends soon." He waits for Izuku to scramble up as well before holding eye contact with him. "Just remember what I said before. Be careful, but do what you think is right. You've got a good head, so I know you can do that, problem child."

It's said so casually that Izuku almost misses the nickname. He doesn't whine or complain at the jab, but he does stop and stare at the man for a moment. Because why did that make him happy?

Eraserhead flicks one of the ears on Izuku's hoodie, causing the boy to give a small smile underneath the mask. And maybe it's still too sharp, and maybe it still doesn't quite reach his eyes, but it's altogether better than the ones he usually wears these days.

Izuku is breathing easier now. He doesn't feel that impending doom crushing him like how he felt just half an hour before. He feels lighter, if only by a little.

Eraserhead rests a heavy hand on Izuku's head before leaving, and the boy knows there's a chance when he doesn't automatically flinch away this time.

Maybe he has a choice in this after all.

"No. I refuse to fucking believe that shit's real!" Kacchan stands up from the couch and storms to the kitchen, probably to go aggressively help Mitsuki with dinner. "There's no fucking way you got that high of a score!"

Izuku, who's sporting a shit-eating grin, just shrugs. "Projector All Might doesn't lie, Kacchan."

The blond appears in the doorway again. "Bullshit! A hundred and ninety eight? You had to have cheated. Don't fucking spew that crap to me."

"I think you're just jealous that I beat you by, what is it, one hundred and twenty-one points?"

"And that's part of the bullshit!" He stomps over and takes the projector from Izuku's hands. "Fucking piece of shit."

Izuku giggles. "I told you what I did. That's not cheating."

"I want to see the footage. I won't believe any of that shit until I see it."

"They don't just give that out, Kacchan. You'll be waiting a long time."

"Son of a—"

Izuku uses Pull just in time to grab the projector before Kacchan can smash it into the ground. "Hey, watch it! You don't know if we have to send them back or not! It looks expensive!"

His friend just rolls his eyes. "It said on the package we can keep it for memorabilia, dumbass. Now let me break it."

"Uh, no? This one's mine! You have your own to destroy!"

"I don't care!" Kacchan grabs for it again, but Izuku just steps back and sticks his leg out. The blond trips and face plants into the couch, curses getting louder. "You fucking shitty nerd! Give it to me!"

"Fuck off!"

Izuku tries to run for it, but Kacchan is already balancing on the armrest like an angry cat. The blond jumps on his back and sends them both crashing to the floor.

Damn. I'm so glad I didn't bring Missy. She'd get her fur scorched off.

Izuku rolls over to dislodge him, but Kacchan is still much bigger than him. Using a little bit of power, the green-haired boy knees him right where it hurts and shoves him off. He goes skidding into the dining room, face murderous.

Oh fuck.

Their scuffle turns into more of a brawl. Mitsuki joins in at one point to kick them out of the kitchen after they almost knock a boiling pot of water out of her hands. How they even migrated to the kitchen in the first place is beyond Izuku, but oh well.

"Come on," Kacchan says, dragging him outside. "We're settling this right now. I'm gonna beat you, and then you have to admit that I'm better."

Izuku crosses his arms and digs his feet into the ground. "Nope. Just look at my points. I don't gotta prove shit."

In the next second, Izuku is letting out an oof as a fist hits his back and sends him falling forward. He chokes on a mouthful of dirt before groaning. The quick defeat doesn't come as much of a surprise. The boy hasn't slept in two days. He's starting to hallucinate now. He swears there was a clown right behind Kacchan a few seconds ago, but he isn't gonna be the one to point it out if it wasn't true.

Hopefully he can rest later. It's not even Thursday, and yet he's still here.

He received the projector a few hours before now in the mail. The address he put down on his application is the same address he led Eraserhead to all those months ago during their first encounter. The lady at the front desk had called him after seeing his name on the package.

While he was definitely excited, Izuku forced himself to wait until he got to Kacchan's house to open it and compare. The only bad thing about his is that he didn't ace his written exam. He missed only a few points, all of them from History.

Figures. 

Kacchan promised that he'll keep rubbing it in his face for the rest of time, as he aced it, of course. He's always been the more studious of the two, especially when it comes to History.

What made Izuku blush was the fact that the brunette girl (the one who saved him twice, which Kacchan has helpfully reminded him of every second after watching the projector) wanted to share some of her points with him. Izuku certainly didn't need it, but he's happy all the same. He never thought anyone would do something like that for him.

But all the same, he was incredibly grateful when Present Mic made her keep her hard-earned points.

During all of this fighting and teasing with each other, however, Izuku still doesn't breathe a word to Kacchan about the offer All Might gave him. He should. He really should. That's one of the reasons he even came over to the Bakugou household.

But now that he's actually here, he stays quiet. The guilt is strong in his chest, but Izuku bites his tongue. He'll see how it goes first, and then he'll tell his friend.

That's Izuku's promise to him.

He can't believe he's actually doing this. He has to be crazy. Certifiably insane, in fact.

Why did he agree to this celebration brunch with All Might in the first place? He texted the man his scores (even though he's pretty sure the hero already knew) and was surprised when the man texted him back enthusiastically.

He insisted that they had to celebrate this feat of his, seeing as he apparently made a new record.

Honestly, Izuku can kind of care less about that. The only thing he cares about is the obvious question he's going to have to answer today. The question that he does surprisingly have a set answer for.

He blames Kacchan for this situation, too. It's one hundred percent the boy's fault. No, he will not take criticism. He can still recall his friend's stubbornness just the day before.

"Kacchan. Yes or no."

There's a grunt from below him. Izuku is currently balancing on his friend's back with one hand while reading a book in the other. His sweat drips onto the pages, which is frankly disgusting. Izuku will definitely cringe over it later.

The blond is doing push-ups, still holding steady with Izuku's added weight. They've been training for almost an hour now, but neither are ready to give in. "The fuck are you on about, Deku?"

"Just answer the question! Yes or no!"

"Why should I? I don't even know what it's for!"

Izuku wriggles a little in air, trying to throw his friend off kilter. "Just do it!"

"Fine!" Kacchan drops low to the floor in one abrupt movement, causing Izuku to tumble off of him. "Yes."

And huh? Izuku is confused and also irritated. That's not what he's supposed to say. Not at all.

"No. You have to say no, Kacchan. Say it."

"Well now that you're so damn upset about it, my answer's gonna stay yes."

"Fuck you! Say no!"

"Yes."

Izuku throws dirt at him, only to end up eating it for the second time that day. 

That entire conversation had been unfair. Kacchan is stupid, and so is Izuku.

He had it all planned out. He had a poll going on in his head, for god's sake. Eraserhead, for one, said yes—well, technically. He told Izuku to do whatever and to not be afraid to branch out, which is the closest thing to a yes he'll ever get from the hero.

Izuku already put in his vote: a hard no. Which means Kacchan was the tiebreaker; a terrible decision, really.

He expected him to say no. Hell, Kacchan's entire personality is like the word no printed in large font and highlighted in the blood of the innocent.

And so Kacchan saying yes in that determined tone of his had Izuku thinking the world was coming to an end.

The two idiots didn't even know what they were saying yes to! They couldn't have possibly guessed that Izuku was using them to decide whether or not to accept the Symbol of Peace's quirk. They were answering it blindly.

Which makes it all even worse.

"This place is really nice," Izuku whispers. He is not hiding behind Small Might, thank you very much. He's just a little cold and needs some warmth.

Saying that the restaurant is nice is an understatement. It's a very expensive restaurant. One that Izuku doesn't dare look at when he walks past sometimes on the way to the store. He's gotten dirty looks from the people going inside plenty of times, but it's different when you're receiving those looks while going in as well.

To be fair, Small Might had told him to dress casually. And so here Izuku is, in Kacchan's red jeans and dirty converse with an oversized white hoodie on top—an outfit that is not suitable for a place like this.

The hero himself is wearing some nice slacks and a comfy dress shirt, but otherwise he looks casual. Izuku, on the other hand, looks like he just got dragged out of the dumpster wearing okay-ish clothes from a lost and found bin at an orphanage.

I should've borrowed Kacchan's gel. My hair looks like a bush.

Small Might had waited for him outside of the restaurant since he was the one who made the reservation. He didn't say anything bad about the boy's looks, besides a sputtered response after noting the Plus Ultra! on his hoodie, but still.

While Izuku knows the man doesn't care, he still can't help but feel very out of place.

The hostess leads them to the second floor and gives them a table with a nice view of the city with a floor-to-ceiling window.

Ah. This is definitely where rich business people meet.

Apparently All Might goes here all the time with his friends, which explains why he looks so at home. The man proceeds to talk to Izuku about random things, and also about how he's thinking of getting a pet.

This prompts Izuku to show him a picture of Missy. He's talked about her before but never actually shown her to the man. It turns out that he's actually a dog person, though, so Izuku starts to babble on about the different shelters he's been too while picking up strays off the street.

If Izuku is being honest, he's been this close to adopting more stray animals after finding them during his patrols. The only thing stopping him is the fact that he can barely afford to feed himself with Missy there, so how could he afford another animal?

Izuku is relaxing slowly, now. There's quite a few people here, so he makes a game of searching through their quirks and trying to identify what it does just by feeling the energy. He does this all the time, and it's quite fun. Malicious, perhaps, but fun.

When the waiter comes back with their drinks and takes their orders, Izuku just gets what All Might does since he still feels very out of place. Sashimi seems to be a popular dish here.

Izuku doesn't really like raw meat in general, but he knows it must taste good for how expensive it is, so he doesn't mind.

"I've always wondered how you eat without a stomach," Izuku says, hoping to start another conversation. He's starting to get sick of the looks from all the people around them.

Small Might chuckles and delves into the story of how he had to get said organ removed before getting a replacement. He talks about how he's limited to eating certain things now—spicy foods are a no-go, for one—and has to go to the doctor's every month to make sure everything is going fine.

Izuku listens with awe as he nibbles on his food, and he wishes he had his notebook on him because that's definitely something he should put on the hero's page.

Also. How the fuck is All Might even alive?

The brunch is turning out nice, Izuku won't lie. Well, he could be doing anything with All Might and it would probably be enjoyable, but whatever. Everything is nice.

The air is a little tense, however. Only for Izuku.

The boy has to say something. All Might hasn't mentioned anything about their previous conversation, but Izuku knows he's waiting for an answer. He's not dumb. Izuku can see what ulterior motives lie behind the idea of a celebration brunch, as he called it.

It's when All Might orders dessert for Izuku despite his pleadings of you don't have to, really, that's a lot of money that the boy finally works up the courage to tell him.

At first, the hero looks confused as to what he's talking about, though Izuku did just blurt out yes! seemingly out of nowhere, so you can't really blame him.

All Might's eyes widen in realization after a few moments, and then he's talking excitedly, almost too quickly for Izuku to keep up with, and that's saying something.

Again, Izuku is reminded of how much of a happy golden retriever the man can be.

After the rambling is seemingly over and the dessert has already made its way onto the table, All Might tells him that they can do the transfer right after this, saying that it's better to get an early start since school starts very soon.

Izuku hates how easily he matches the hero's enthusiasm and agrees.

And somewhere, not too far from the restaurant All Might and Midoriya Izuku are dining at, a faceless man grins.

The tubes in his chest will only subdue him for a little while longer. His treatments are almost finished, and it won't be long before he can continue where he left off. And then he can take back what's his.

He can take back both of them.