Aizawa left his book in Izuku's hospital room.

It taunts him just by existing. Just by sitting there at the edge of the table. Izuku hates looking at it, so for the first few minutes after remembering it's there, he doesn't.

He looks out the window, which he's done for pretty much the entire time he's been here in this room, and closes his eyes.

The wings on his back are heavy again. He's supposed to ask the nurses for the numbing cream whenever he starts to feel in pain, but Izuku hasn't done it yet. He won't be allowed to put it on himself due to the state his arms are in (which is complete bullshit, in his opinion), and Izuku is not going to let some random nurse rub it on him again, so for now he'll deal.

Maybe if he can get Yamada to ask them for the whole tub, Izuku can just sneakily put it on by himself when no one is paying attention.

Either way, the wings make swishing noises whenever his muscles twitch—a side effect of the other medications they're pumping through his veins. He sits on the edge of his bed and imagines, for just one moment, that they're actually there. That the red, leathery wings are real and physical and not just a phantom pain he ripped from someone else.

Something else, One for All corrects. He can't pick out who the voice belongs to right now.

Izuku opens his eyes. "If you call Tsubasa a thing, I've gotta be one too."

Would that be so bad?

Traitorously, Izuku's gaze moves to Aizawa's book again. His head is full, stuffed with stained cotton of all colors, and he wants it to be empty. Just for a second.

That's all he needs.

He wonders what was so important in that damn book for Aizawa to have been furiously scribbling in the margins of it while he was here. It's pretty large, and it looks well worn. Aizawa either got it previously owned or has had it for a while now. Izuku bets that it's the second.

Which also pisses him off for some reason.

Without really thinking of any consequences, Izuku shifts from where he's sitting on the bed and reaches for the book. It's heavy; it takes two hands to carry and a little bit of Boost.

He sets it on his lap and glares at it.

Aizawa leaving his book behind is probably the biggest mistake he'll ever make in his life, because now Izuku has decided to snoop. To be fair, he has been stuck in this dreary hospital for almost two days now with nothing to do, so can you blame him? He's bored.

And a bored Izuku isn't a fun one.

The boy runs his fingers over the cover, a small frown forming on his face. Some of the leather is flaking off, and there are a few brown stains on the corners of it. Coffee, he thinks. That's what it must be. Izuku would know, as he's had his fair share of coffee spills while note-taking in the early hours of morning.

When he flips to the first page, he sees that it's not really a book so much as it is a journal. Aizawa has cut out snippets of articles and textbooks and taped the papers onto the lined pages, leaving space around them for him to write and take notes. He even has photos and diagrams glued and drawn in.

It's a messy kind of neat. It resembles Izuku's own journals.

Izuku hates it even more.

Very quickly on into reading through the book, Izuku decides that his stupid teacher's handwriting is absolutely atrocious.

He's seen the man's writing before, of course, since he's his teacher, but the connection goes back even farther than that.

Sometimes, on rare occasions, Aizawa would have a busy patrol night, and he would ask Izuku to run an errand for him—usually something small and notdangerous like dropping off a handwritten message to one of his coworkers at his agency. Anonymously, of course.

Izuku would read all of those messages back then, he can't lie. He's pretty nosy. He'd study Aizawa's handwriting, his language, his speech patterns, the way he abbreviated certain words—he'd analyze it all. And he would tuck it all away into a neat little folder at the back of his mind for later.

Just in case.

He does it to most of the people he comes into contact with. It's a safety net for him to fall back on in case he ever needs to know an individual's handwriting for some reason.

It came in handy when it came to his mother. He can't count how many times he's had to forge documents using her signature.

Anyway, he can safely say that back then —the term he has started using to refer to when they still only knew each other as Rabbit and Eraserhead—Aizawa actually had pretty decent handwriting. It was rough, a little scribbly, but still readable. It was far better than the average person's, too. Aizawa's writing was never slanted then. It was always straight but just a little jagged near the ends of where the various lines ended.

Now, however, that's changed.

Izuku is looking at the annotations Aizawa left in this book. He remembers the man reading and taking notes in it when he woke up after the surgery, but he didn't know exactly what he was working on.

That doesn't matter now, though. What matters is that Aizawa's handwriting has changed, and not in a good way.

It's sloppy. The characters are uneven. They're all different sizes and are slanted pretty badly, with most of them being crooked entirely. Izuku himself can barely make out the words, which is how he knows it's bad.

Why did this happen? Why did Aizawa's handwriting change so drastically in the span of just a few months or so? Izuku isn't sure, but it's scaring him. It makes his stomach feel as though it's been filled with lead.

And that is why he's now calling it atrocious. It truly is unsettling to look at.

He must have been writing quickly, Number Four speaks.

Izuku shakes out his hand to get rid of the tingling sensation before turning to the next page. "Or he was frustrated. I've never seen him write like this before. Maybe on mission debriefing papers, but..."

Six pipes up. Ask him about it the next time you see him.

At this, Izuku scoffs. "You're funny."

I'm glad you think so.

Izuku shuts them out, scanning over the pages thoughtfully now. Some of it is general stuff about villains Aizawa has fought with before, and also ones that Izuku has fought. The boy smiles when he sees that one of his criminal regulars has been caught by Aizawa about as many times as he's been caught and jailed by Izuku himself. It seems they share a lot of the same track records.

Details of some of Aizawa's latest missions are also laid out here. Izuku skims over it, wondering how Aizawa can be so negligent to leave something this important just sitting out. Did he forget it or did he intentionally leave it behind? Either way, Izuku is going to rub this in his face the next time he has some courage.

"And he says I'm reckless," Izuku mumbles sullenly. "I'm not the one leaving detrimental shit out for just anyone to take."

Rip everything out to teach him a lesson then,Number Five offers, making Izuku huff out a laugh.

Maybe we shouldn't do that, Seven cuts in quickly.

Let's vote!

Izuku can't even get angry at them for still speaking despite his best attempts to shut them out, because now he's near the middle of the journal, and he doesn't like what he sees.

The red tab on the side has his last name on it. Shortened, only spelling out the first couple of characters: MIDO.

It's not a coincidence, he figures out. There are more notes in this section and less of those articles and diagrams. Each entry has dates on them, and Aizawa appears to not have skipped even a day since he first started this section a couple months ago.

Aizawa has random thoughts and incomplete sentences written down, some in bullet format, some in little tables. His handwriting here is even worse, Izuku notices.

Near the beginning, a lot of the entries are almost incomprehensible, as Izuku can barely make out what they're supposed to say. His name pops up a few times in it, and so does Yamada's, but Izuku doesn't exactly think anything of it until he reads one of the pages in the middle of the section. This one has a small snippet of an article taped in. The headline reads: Neglect, and When to Step In.

Izuku blinks. He rereads it, his brows drawing together. Huh. That's... an interesting title.

Definitely not something he would've expected when opening this book.

Mouth going dry, Izuku steadies himself and reads part of it: What is Neglect? Neglect is the ongoing failure to meet a child's basic needs, and it is the most common form of child abuse. A child might be left hungry or dirty, or without proper clothing, shelter, supervision or health care. This can put children and young people in danger. It can also have long term effects on their physical and mental wellbeing.

Some of the words are highlighted in yellow, others in green. There's no key, so he has no clue if it's intentionally color coded or not, but it's intriguing all the same. As a hero, Aizawa should already know this information, right? He should've taken courses catered to this kind of stuff.

Why is he retouching on all of this now?

Izuku's eyes fall back to the tab, to his last name, and he lets out a long, slow breath before flipping the page.

Signs of Neglect. Neglect can be really difficult to spot. Having one of the signs doesn't necessarily mean a child is being neglected, but if you notice multiple signs that last for a while, they might show there's a serious problem. Children and young people who are neglected might have:

Poor hygiene and appearanceHealth and development problemsHousing and family issuesChange in behavior

Next to the highlights this time are the words presented or shown. It doesn't take a genius to figure out what this is; it's a case study. On... Izuku?

Honestly, what else could this be?

In a way, Izuku isn't surprised, as he knew Aizawa must have been keeping tabs on him (quite literally) ever since they started talking with each other, but it still feels like a punch to the gut. Because these notes aren't on Rabbit specifically—they're on Izuku.

Izuku the homeless kid. The student at UA who broke the long-standing record of points scored in the entrance exam. The kid who's been spending more time than he would prefer in a white hospital room.

For a second, Izuku tries to imagine being Aizawa and having to write these things down, being the observer, the one kept forcefully out of the loop. He feels bad, but not for long.

A child might not understand they're being neglected. If you're worried about a child and want to talk to them, we have advice on having difficult conversations.

The last part has a sticky note next to it that reads ask Hound Dog.

Izuku thinks of the very large, furry hero, and nearly laughs out loud trying to imagine Aizawa asking the counselor for advice. The next paragraph makes Izuku sober up, though.

If a Child Reveals Abuse. A child who is being neglected might not realize what's happening is wrong. And they might even blame themselves. If a child talks to you about neglect it's important to—

Izuku's arm twitches. He skips this part and moves on, his eyes narrowing. He doesn't want to read any of this, but he'll be lying if he says Aizawa's notes aren't interesting. This is about him, anyway, right? Seeing as this section so far has been mostly about Izuku and his interactions with Aizawa, it would make the most sense.

Children who've been neglected might experience short-term and long-term effects. These can include:

problems with brain development

Beside these words, Aizawa has written: trauma on growth plates, sensory disorders(?), reference Chiyo.

Izuku reads on.

taking risks, like running away from home, using drugs and alcohol or breaking the lawgetting into dangerous relationshipsdifficulty with relationships later in life, including with their own childrena higher chance of having mental health problems, including depression and—

The next few pages are skipped by Izuku too. He doesn't enjoy having to see all of this being laid out so plainly. It grinds on his nerves. It makes him jittery.

He was not neglected. Izuku was never neglected.He left by his own choice. While his father was of course not the greatest figure for him, he still had Kurogiri. He can't claim to have been neglected back then. Doing so would disrespect all of what Kuro was. And plus, Izuku chose to live alone. He chose not to tell Auntie or the police about his homelessness.

Izuku wanted it to be like that, so no, he wasn't neglected.

And reading these notes about how he apparently shows or did show the signs of being abused that way makes him maybe a little more upset than he should be.

Kuro didn't get in trouble with All for One all the time for lying for Izuku just to be called neglectful.

It's insulting.

The next few entries are more lighthearted, and Izuku finds himself clinging onto the words, trying to calm his anger.

These meds are making him much more emotional than he usually is. Well, he likes to think so, anyway.

He's fine. His heart rate has slowed down, his thoughts aren't jumbling together anymore, and things are okay.

Some of Aizawa's entries are funny, surprisingly. His humor is dry as always, and it matches with Izuku's own. Aizawa is so effortlessly funny that it's almost infuriating. He mentions Vlad King and his interactions with Izuku a few times in his writing, and Izuku is pleased to see that Aizawa doesn't like Kan's views any more than he does.

All Might has his own section in the book. Aizawa has written information down that he's apparently received from Yagi himself, which isn't a lot.

Izuku preens at the fact. That's right. All Might isn't gonna be your snitch, Aizawa.

Like a healed bird getting eaten by a much bigger hawk moments after being released back into the wild, Izuku's returning happiness is crushed by the next few entries he decides to read.

He doesn't even have to read the headline this time. He'd know Midoriya Inko's face anywhere.

Mother Leaves Six-Year-Old for Dead!

She's young in the photo the newspaper used. Her eyes are bright but uncertain, and there's a light blush on her face that speaks on her uncomfortableness.

Her hair is pulled back, and she has her nurse attire on. This photo must've been taken on her first day of work. Before she had Izuku, most likely.

Izuku wonders why they chose such an old photo of her back then. Maybe that's all they had of her, or maybe, he thinks, a stone dropping in his stomach, they chose the one where she looked the most naive in order to paint her in an even worse light. It's not impossible.

Either way, the world goes quiet when he stares at her. She's facing the camera, so it's almost like she's staring right at Izuku. If he extends his imagination, it could almost be real.

He swipes his bandaged thumb gently over her black and white cheek, his mind fuzzy again.

It's been so long since he's last seen her physically that it feels almost traitorous to be looking at this photo of her. She doesn't look like this now, he's sure. Whenever he thinks of her, he pictures an older version of her. He thinks of his mother from before.

Before Izuku hurt her. Before those bright eyes became clouded with grief and some other emotion Izuku could never understand.

He doesn't like to remember her from after.

Either way, he's unsure who she is now. Is she the Inko from before? Or the Inko after?

Maybe she's something in between.

It's not his business, though. He swore to himself he'd never talk or interact with her again until he's figured everything out and made this world safer for her, and he's going to keep that promise.

She has her hands on her hips, Izuku sees. Though he'd really rather he didn't, as that's when he notices the small red ring on her left hand: her promise ring. The one Midoriya Hisashi gave her.

Izuku's face darkens.

With his hands shaking and fingers twitching, Izuku grabs a hold of the page and tears it out.

He crumples it into a ball and throws it with One for All somewhere across the room.

Aizawa's journal follows quickly after.

Todoroki and Iida are at the door the day Izuku is released.

Yamada had to take a phone call, so he's somewhere down the hall when they arrive, not within earshot.

Izuku doesn't know what to say when he sees them. What is there to say? After everything they've been through and everything they've seen, words just can't seem to measure up to anything worthwhile yet.

So Izuku is quiet.

Iida walks in first, and Izuku immediately notices how one of his arms is bandaged and in a sling on his chest. That last hit Stain managed to get in must've really hurt him.

Otherwise, Iida looks relatively uninjured. There are scrapes and a few burns on the skin not covered by his clothes, but Izuku has no doubt they extend to underneath. They're healing fast, though.

Todoroki looks the same, except both of his arms are bandaged a little. On his left hand, little calluses shine beneath the fluorescent lights.

Frostbite and heat burns , Izuku's brain supplies. He went overboard.

The nerves on his skin are probably damaged, same as Iida. Hopefully not too bad—Izuku hopes they're able to heal.

"Midoriya," Iida and Todoroki say at the same time, breaking the silence, and Izuku drags his gaze up to look at their faces.

Their eyes look like Izuku's, and it feels wrong. He misses Iida's sharp eyes and Todoroki's chilly ones—it suited their features perfectly. They're both still so beautiful, though.

Izuku, for one moment, is struck by the fact that both of his friends can still look so dashing even during what must be a rough healing process.

"We would've seen you sooner," Todoroki begins roughly, cutting off whatever it was that Iida was about to say, "but those bastards wouldn't let us visit until you were released too."

"Todoroki," Iida admonishes, though he doesn't say anything further on the bastard comment. Instead, he walks closer until he's right in front of Izuku, who has his legs hanging off the side of the bed. "I'm glad to see you awake and well, Midoriya. We were told by All Might-sensei that you had to have surgery, but we didn't know the full extent of it all, but..."

He trails off with a pained expression, but Todoroki quickly fills in the gaps. "It wasn't hard to guess you had some serious problems. When my father was carrying you, none of us could tell if you were breathing. You looked dead."

The thought of his friends anxiously watching him and coming to the conclusion he was killed because he was passed out doesn't sit right with Izuku. It makes his eyebrows draw together.

He never meant for them to witness something like that.

Iida sends yet another cutting glance over to Todoroki, who's standing by the foot of the bed. "You could try to be more tactful, you know!" His arm tries to move, as if attempting to gesticulate as usual, but since it's in a cast it can't go far. The blue-haired teen winces, then sighs, and Izuku's stomach clenches. "I apologize, Midoriya. For... for all of this. None of this would have occurred if I had—"

"This again?" Todoroki asks, obviously annoyed. Why he's being so aggressively talkative, Izuku doesn't know. He enjoys it all the same. "I told you it's stupid to give unneeded apologies."

"Just because you think it's not needed doesn't mean that it isn't! Besides, Midoriya extended his hand to me the day we left for our internships, and I didn't take it." Iida swallows, turning his gaze to the floor. "He offered me a way out, even if he didn't realize it then, and I turned him and Uraraka down. If I weren't so blinded with rage then, you both wouldn't be injured. And—and Native—"

Izuku's hands clench around the sheets. "Don't."

Iida and Todoroki go quiet immediately, eyes a little wider, as if realizing that this is indeed the first time Izuku has spoken since they arrived.

Todoroki reaches for him. "Midoriya—"

"It's not your fault, Iida. It never was." His voice shakes when he continues. "Even if you sought Stain out for bad reasons, you still ended up distracting him from Native long enough for others to arrive and help finish him off. If it weren't for you and—and you, Todoroki... Stain would've killed Native himself. And he wouldn't have gotten the... the proper hero's death he did."

Izuku doesn't agree with that last part so much, but he's just repeating what Yamada told him. If hesaid it, then it has to be true, right?

Of course, Native's death should never have had to happen, but in terms of heroics, it wasn't the worstway to go out, really. It was better than a lot of deaths, actually. At least, that's what Yamada reassured Izuku of the other day.

"If he could do it all over again, I don't think he'd regret stepping in front of you, Midoriya, even if you told him what would happen," Yamada says, and he's looking somewhere far away. "Surely it wasn't such a bad way to die. In the place of someone else. Someone he might've believed in, ya know?"

Todoroki and Iida are still quiet, watching him with differing expressions, and Izuku continues before he loses his nerve entirely.

"And about... Rabbit," he starts, his voice cracking painfully on the name. "I'm sorry for—for keeping that from you. That's not how I wanted you two to find out. I swear I would've told you eventually. I don't know when, exactly, but I would've."

I trust you, goes unsaid but not unheard. It shouldn't have taken me so long to realize it.

Todoroki cuts in. "You weren't obligated to tell us anything. Rabbit is a criminal, so I wouldn't have told anyone about it either." He pauses suddenly, head tilting. "But it's weird I was talking to you about him without knowing."

I guess it's even more awkward than me having to listen to everyone talk about Rabbit.

Izuku lifts up a hand to rub at the nape of his neck. "Yeah, I'm sorry about that. But, uh, if it helps any, it—it was really kind of flattering, and I—y'know, I really appreciated—"

He doesn't have a chance to finish his confession, as suddenly his mouth is full of fabric. Izuku chokes, his eyes going wide as he registers what just happened.

Iida is bending down to be on Izuku's level, and he has his large, muscular arm wrapped around him tightly. He's pressing Izuku up against him, and it takes a second for Izuku to remember what this is.

A hug.

Izuku can barely breathe, and not just because of the grip Iida has on him. He's so shocked that he honestly can't even believe it's happening. When was the last time Iida was this close to him—outside of training, of course? He's never been a touchy-feely kind of person, and, really, Izuku's never been either. Not anymore, at least.

In fact, Izuku can only count two other times that Iida has physically contacted someone in this way: Uraraka was crying one day at lunch and Izuku was severely lacking in the comforting department, so Iida had to step up and let her cry on his shoulder; and then there's that time Izuku was about to eat shit on the pavement after training for hours on end that previous night and Iida caught him with ease.

That's it.

So this is concerning. Is Izuku about to get raptured? He feels like he is. Why is Iida doing this? Is it an actual hug like Izuku thinks it is, or is he misinterpreting? Maybe Iida is about to pass out. Maybe he just tripped for an extended period of time. It was so out of the blue, so sudden, that it has to have been a mistake!

But just when Izuku is about to ask if Iida is alright, he's suddenly hit with a wave of emotions nearly strong enough to make him buckle. Amidst the usual grief and sorrow and guilt, Izuku feels... loneliness.

Iida is alone. He feels too small for his body, Izuku assumes. That's what that other unidentified emotion in there is.

Izuku moves his face so he can look at Todoroki over Iida's broad shoulder. He extends his senses, eyebrows furrowing as curiosity overtakes him, and he lets Todoroki's own thoughts wash over him.

While there's sadness inside him, too, Izuku feels more self-loathing and anger than anything.

This realization has Izuku's soul aching for him.

After a moment's hesitation, Izuku lifts up his hand and extends it to Todoroki, not breaking his gaze. The boy blinks, surprised, and starts to move forward immediately after realizing what the gesture means. He pauses soon after, as if unsure, but Izuku doesn't give him any time to rethink his actions before his arm is shooting forward to grab at him.

A little white cloud escapes Todoroki when his lips part, no doubt the doing of his right side, but he doesn't object to the manhandling. Izuku tugs him in close, and it's awkward at first, he'll admit.

Iida is still holding him, but he shifts a little so Todoroki can move in beside him. Todoroki oh so carefully rests one arm first around the blue-haired boy and then another on Izuku's back. His touch is feather-light, his insecurities shining through even with the smallest of actions, and Izuku hugs him back with all the desperation of a dying man.

No words are spoken, but it's better that way.

Here, Izuku doesn't have to think. He just has to be. He's sure it's the same for his friends.

Iida's arm is stiff, and he's resting a bit of his weight on Izuku—but not too much. It's obvious he's being careful not to hurt him. Todoroki, on the other hand, is uncharacteristically... soft. As if he's melted into it all.

It's definitely not something Izuku would have expected out of him. He seemed even more non-hug friendly than Iida before this.

Though, really, what room does Izuku have to judge?

With the three of them huddled up like this, awkwardly holding each other, it's like a little prayer circle. Except there's no praying going on here; they're way past that.

Izuku is hyper aware of them pressing on his skin, and he sags in relief when he realizes he can feel the pressure a little better than before on that one arm of his. Maybe it's not a lost cause after all.

When another five seconds of this intimate moment has passed, the door to the hospital room is pushed open, but Izuku feels it before he actually sees him.

"Hey, kiddo, are you about ready to—oh!" Yamada breaks off and immediately turns around, stuffing his phone in his back pocket. The damage is already done, though, as Todoroki is the first to break apart from the hug with Iida following. "Sorry! Didn't see you two sneak in." He holds up his car keys before going back out the door. "I'll be in the hallway whenever you're ready to go, Midoriya! No rush."

Izuku musters out a weak acknowledgement, coughing to clear his throat and embarrassment at the same time.

The door shuts, and the air becomes heavy. Iida presses the palm of his hand into his red-rimmed eyes, as if drying whatever moisture is there. When Izuku's gaze drifts over to Todoroki next, he sees that his eyes are red too.

I wish I could do more, he thinks suddenly, surprising even himself.

Izuku doesn't say a word aloud, though, not knowing if either of them even want to acknowledge what just happened.

Iida pushes his glasses up closer to his nose after wiping them with his shirt, seemingly a little more put together. He apologizes about his outburst, but Todoroki is quick to tell him he doesn't need to.

And then it's quiet again, and Izuku's brain is being emptied of the cotton. He's hyper aware of the clock on the wall (it's slightly off-center, and it's tilted a little, meaning that his perception of the seconds-hand is off by a fraction due to the depth of the clock itself); each tick makes his skin itch.

Todoroki speaks again not too long after, seemingly unable to sit in silence now despite previously wanting nothing but that back when he first started the school year.

"So," he begins, staring straight at Izuku. "All Might and Mic-sensei. Do they have shared custody?"

His voice is unsure, but there's a slight uptilt at the end that makes it seem like more than just a question. Like he's venturing more than he ever has.

Iida frowns at the question and opens his mouth, as if about to object or reprimand for venturing into their teachers' personal lives, but he refrains at the last moment. Because then—

Then it makes sense.

Todoroki is joking this time, isn't he? He's... actually teasing Izuku? He's not being serious about the whole 'secret love child' thing right now?

Another tired breath escapes Izuku at this notion, at this realization that maybe things haven't been fucked up, at least not completely, and for a second, (just a fraction of one) he feels... okay.

Izuku turns away and can only smile.

Yamada is whistling for a majority of the time during the long drive back to the apartment.

How he has that much energy, Izuku will never know. He's had his suspicions about drug use for a while, but now this basically confirms it.

His voice hasn't cracked once, either, though that's probably a perk of his quirk.

Izuku is sitting in the back seat, longing to be back with Missy. He's been texting back and forth with Kacchan, giving him reassurances that, despite what he saw on the news, Izuku is not actually a murderer and will not be getting put in prison due to Yamada or someone turning him in and snitching.

He obviously knew Izuku didn't actually kill Native, of course, but the point still stands.

Kacchan's internship is apparently annoying yet informative now, in the blond's own words, so Izuku is happy for him. Best Jeanist is certainly a good choice for him.

Izuku's glad his friend is getting the insight he needs.

"You can always sit up here, y'know," Yamada says, meeting his eyes through the rearview mirror. "Looks kinda lonely back there."

"I'm okay," Izuku whispers. He's holding onto his travel bag—the same one that now contains Aizawa's journal. Guilty, Izuku had taped the page back in and kept the whole thing for himself, hoping he'd one day have the nerve to give it back. "This seat is comfier."

Yamada laughs a little. "I think so, too. Shouta calls me crazy for it, but I swear everything feels different when I'm in the backseat. It's just so much better."

It's quieter, Izuku thinks, but doesn't say. Somehow it has a different atmosphere than being up in the passenger seat.

"Say, do you know how to drive, listener? I know you're not old enough to have a license, but I'm curious."

Izuku blinks, thinking back to the multiple occasions where he'd stolen police cars to join in on some high speed chases. His face burns, and he stares hard at the floor. "Er, sorta. I was never taught but I, uh, eventually got the hang of it with... experience."

"Experience of the illegal variety?"

"Something like that."

Yamada's amusement leaks through his next reply. "I gotcha. Well, maybe soon I can take ya to get your permit. How does that sound?"

Izuku blanches. "You'll take me?"

"Why not? It's a useful thing, being able to drive. Especially when emergencies like this happen. You can't always rely on trains or rooftop hopping to get around."

I was planning to do just that, actually.

"Even All Might knows how to drive," Yamada continues. He flicks his blinker on and turns left. "Trust me, it's good to get it while you're young."

Huh. Maybe Izuku will do that. He was never going to get his driver's license, mostly because he'd need an actual parent to go with him. Plus, he'd also have to provide legal, non-fabricated documentation. Which he didn't have back then.

It's still weird for him to think that he's actually realnow. Well, he was always real, but he means in court terms. A month ago, he always had that looming fear at the back of his mind that he'd one day get caught, that his interference and illegal document-changes would eventually be noticed and bite him right in the ass.

Now, he can let those worries go. It's weird. It's like he's traded one bad thing for the next.

"It was really nice for Iida and Todoroki to stay behind and see you," Yamada starts again, pulling Izuku free from his reminiscing. "They were released way before you, so I was surprised to see them."

"Yeah." Izuku shifts a little in his seat. "I—I honestly didn't think they'd want to see me after everything."

Yamada gives a considerable hum. "You said they learned about Rabbit during the fight, so I can understand your fears, listener. But I'm glad they stayed by your side. Those are good friends."

They are. Izuku won't be forgetting that anymore.

Before they left, Yamada offered to take Iida and Todoroki with them, as it's a long drive back to Musutafu, but they each declined and said they had someone coming to pick them up.

Izuku wouldn't admit it to just anybody, but he can't wait to be back in his bed. He can't wait to take a real shower. He feels disgusting after the few towel baths he was allowed.

On the bright side, he does have a tub of that back cream stuff that the doctors gave to him, so he's happy about that. Yamada has Izuku's four other new medications up front with him, and Izuku will never forget the look on his face when the nurse handed him the packet of instructions on how to administer each of them to him.

Two of them are pills, which is easy enough (Izuku has experience in popping medications like that), and another is a seltzer tablet. While Izuku isn't thrilled about that, as he never likes to put fizzy things in his water, he can deal.

But the fourth? It's a syrup meant to be taken orally every other night.

Syrup.

It's bitter, disgusting, vomit-worthy, and has a strong aftertaste that has Izuku's appetite leaving for hours afterwards. He would know, as he was forced to take his first dose this morning. He was close to kicking that one nurse when she held out the spoon for him to take—and he really did kick one of those damn doctors when he was denied water to wash away the taste.

"He can't drink water for thirty minutes after he takes this," the mutant man told Yamada, who was busy giving Izuku a dangerous look for kicking the doctor. "There's a possibility it'll make him drowsy. He will drop like a fly out of nowhere, and I'm not exaggerating this, Mr. Yamada. Please make sure to monitor him."

Izuku called bullshit on all of that. He still thinks he should've been allowed water, or at least something else to get rid of that nasty taste. He swears he can still taste it in his throat right now; that's how bad it is.

When the doctors and nurses left, Izuku was left to stare into Yamada's eyes challengingly, a sour look on his face. Yamada was holding the bottle of bitter syrup, looking like he had just been dropped off in the middle of a war zone.

Even he knew that he wouldn't be getting Izuku to take any more of that.

Izuku will be fighting tooth and nail, mark his words.

When they have only another hour left of driving, they stop for lunch and then continue on their way. This is when Izuku notices something, though.

"It smells like cantaloupes in here."

"Oh, yeah?"

"I liked the cherry smell better."

Yamada nods. "That's what Nemuri said. Guess I'll have to buy more of those car fresheners. They've got some of those cherry ones at the mall." He brightens up considerably. "Speaking of! We really need to go shopping for some new stuff for ya! How about we go to the mall next weekend? They've got tons of sales going on then."

"Shopping? But I think I have everything I need."

"It's not about needs, kiddo. But even still, you do definitely need some new clothes and furniture. I told you that you can decorate your room however you like, so don't be shy. We can get ya some posters or shelves for whatever you want!"

Izuku's nose wrinkles. He's not fond of Yamada spending money on him, but he knows by now that it's not a good idea to say that. So instead of arguing, he just nods, biting his inner cheek.

Maybe it's not all bad. They might have some All Might figurines.

Since his limited edition ones burnt up, he needs to make up for it. It's bad luck if he doesn't have at least five figurines of All Might near him at every start to the morning.

He's tested it.

When they arrive at the apartment, it's evening time. Yamada suggested that Izuku get some rest since he must still be tired, but he denied it.

He's exhausted, sure, but it doesn't feel right. Being able to sleep, that is. Not after everything.

He feels like there's something missing still.

Izuku is lying on the loveseat, his legs hanging over one of the armchairs. Missy is sprawled out on his chest, her fur keeping him warm despite him not having a blanket. She must've missed him too.

"Where's Aizawa?" He asks, not looking up from where he's staring at the television.

Yamada folds the last piece of his laundry and gathers it all up in his arms before standing up. "He's got a lot of work to do, so he's staying at the station for tonight."

"Oh."

Yamada's words were clipped. Short. He didn't sound angry, exactly, but he did sound a little terse.

Izuku wonders what happened between the two of them for Yamada to be acting so upset at having to even mention Aizawa.

Yamada puts away his clothes in the bedroom and eventually comes back out, looking much brighter. The apartment is dim (it always is when it's just him and Izuku, as neither of them appreciate bright lights—it's not good for headaches or heavy-thinkers), as the only lights on right now are in the kitchen. Pots and pans clang around, and hands rummage through the fridge.

"Did you have anything in mind for dinner, Midoriya?" he calls.

Izuku stands and makes his way to the kitchen, clutching Missy in his arms. "No, sir. But can I help?"

Yamada gives him an indecipherable look before shrugging. "'Course! How does takikomi gohansound, then?"

To Izuku, who's only been allowed to eat disgusting hospital food for the past few days, that sounds delicious. He can truly think of no other food that could beat takikomi gohan right now—except katsudon, obviously.

And so for the next spanse of time, Izuku watches Yamada work and copies him at his own station at the far end of the counter. The blond asks him to cut things for him, and Izuku does. He's instructed to put things in the pot, and he does.

He likes to be helpful, and Yamada must sense it, because he continues giving him things to do.

When dinner is finished, it's pitch black outside, but Izuku still doesn't feel like sleeping.

He cleaned the kitchen and dining table already—and the cats' food and water bowls. What should he do now? What else is there to do?

Izuku grinds his teeth. He itches at his jaw. His eyes dart back and forth at seemingly random places in the room.

Nothing has changed since he left to go to the internships, and yet it feels like everything has. It's been, what? Five days? Give or take? The walls feel tighter. The living room is not as big as he used to think.

His heart is palpitating. He hears it pumping his own blood, and he finds it equally as disturbing as it interesting. He brings his knees to his chest, glaring at the fuzzy carpet down below. His socks are mismatched. How did he just now notice that?

You shouldn't mix your socks on accident. It's different if it's on purpose, but by accident? No. That's not acceptable. He should fix that next time.

He blinks and sees a little girl's face. Red, watery eyes stare back at him with stark white strands of hair framing them.

That's right. I almost forgot about you.

He still has a mission, and—although everything that's been going on recently has made him start thinking about other aspects of his life—he can't neglect that.

But since he's injured now and Aizawa is being a complete ass... how is he supposed to do any real work?

Izuku scowls to himself.

Of all the times this shitshow could happen.

"I'm going to sneak out," he declares, feeling ballsy.

Yamada stops what he's doing and glances at him, his phone light casting a glare over his glasses. "Y'know, I don't think it's called sneaking out if you tell someone before you do it."

"You don't know when I will, though. It's the surprise factor that makes it sneaky."

The man hums in agreement and goes back to his scrolling. "Well, that's true. I should thank ya for warning me, though, 'cause you know I can't let you do that."

"If I'm fast enough," Izuku says, eyes narrowing, "you just won't catch me."

"Maybe not, but I'll figure out what happened quickly." He wags a finger at him jokingly, one perfectly plucked brow raised. "Sho'll be mad if he has to go retrieve you when he's supposed to be working."

"He's always mad," Izuku dismisses, unfazed. "That won't stop me."

"Okay, what if I said that I'd be upset?"

Now, this captures Izuku's attention.

He thinks for a few seconds, that weird feeling settling at the pit of his stomach again. He stares at Yamada, who isn't looking at him anymore. He's busy typing something quickly on his keyboard. The silence between them is almost like a challenge. Like an opportunity for Izuku to say something back.

But truly it's not even a battle, as Yamada probably already knows he'll win it. He's just waiting for Izuku to realize it, isn't he?

Izuku crosses his arms and leans back a little. He doesn't say a word.

Maybe another time he'll try it, he figures.

When Izuku thinks he's about to burn holes in the carpet with the way he's concentrating, Yamada claps his hands together.

"It feels like a movie kind of night! What do you say we watch something fun?"

"The new All Might documentary," Izuku offers immediately, craving his mentor's presence in any way he can.

Yamada winces. "Y'know, maybe something that's a little more lighthearted?"

Oh, that's right. There are like twenty minutes of raw, unedited footage of All Might's worst fights in that new documentary, isn't there? That's probably not the best thing to watch right now after...

"A Disney movie?" Izuku says quietly, voice getting high towards the end. When is the last time he's watched one?

"Sounds good to me! You haven't watched Tangled yet, have you? It's a really old one."

"Is it the one based on the Rapunzel fairytale?"

Yamada snaps his fingers as he gets up to retrieve the remote. "Sure is! I think you'll like it, kiddo. It's Shouta's favorite."

Huh. Izuku thinks he'll hate it now. In fact, he'll make sure he does.

So perhaps Izuku was wrong.

Maybe Izuku is absolutely enthralled by this animated movie from centuries ago that Yamada still somehow has the footage of.

It's beautifully crafted and so engaging, and for once even the voices are silent as he watches—hell, they're probably watching it too through his eyes.

When's the last time they watched a movie? Besides the movie of his life, that is, it's probably been a while for them.

While Izuku has never been too interested in musicals, he really enjoys the songs spread out through the storyline. It makes his insides jittery, and he can't seem to sit still on the couch while eating his popcorn.

Yamada is eating kettle corn, which is apparently something he really likes. Izuku hates kettle corn personally, however. He doesn't see what's so nice about it.

"Her hair could be seen as a really powerful quirk nowadays," Izuku mutters. "A lot of people would kill to have it."

"Which is what makes it even more relevant for today's day and age. It's a warning just as much as it is an encouraging movie."

"It's very realistic."

Yamada gives him a teasing smile. "Even the weirdly personified horse and chameleon?"

"Especially. I mean, come on, we've got Nezu, and that's basically the same thing, so..."

Yamada laughs and then immediately pulls out his phone to, no doubt, save Izuku's comment for later. Izuku will pay for it most assuredly, but he doesn't really care.

The action scenes in Tangled are better than decent, and Izuku is quite surprised. Yeah, he is definitely going to be trying out the moves Flynn Rider showed. They look fun.

Also, Izuku needs a noble companion like Maximus. Seriously, how awesome would having a badass martial artist of a horse be? Izuku is envious.

As the movie continues, the boy finds himself grinning less and less and frowning more and more. The entire last quarter of the movie is just... dark. Izuku didn't expect it to be this way.

He watches as Mother Gothel frames Flynn Rider—Eugene, now—and manages to put Rapunzel right in the emotional trap she needed her in to get her back under her control. He listens with a sick, twisted feeling in his stomach to the things Gothel tells her to 'comfort' her.

God, it's so smart and cunning that Izuku is momentarily taken aback by what he's seeing.

It's all so good and believable that it's no wonder Rapunzel doesn't think anything of the warning signs. Why would she? She doesn't know anything else.

The movie continues, and when it reaches the part where Gothel stabs Eugene, Izuku swears he feels it too.

"Hey," Yamada says suddenly, and in the faint light Izuku can see him reaching towards him. His teacher taps him on the hand, and it's only then that Izuku realizes he's been digging his nails into his arms.

"Oh, sorry! I just—I'm—I just..." He struggles to find the right words, still watching the screen hungrily.

Gothel is dragging Rapunzel back by chains, and the horror Izuku is feeling makes it hard to look away.

The words are spilling out of him before he can think them over. "How could she do that, Yama? How could she do that to her own daughter? I mean, I know she's an evil witch and Rapunzel isn't actually hers, but like... she still raised her for eighteen years. Her entire life!" He shakes his head, setting his popcorn bowl aside. "You'd think she would've grown somewhat attached to her, right? To an extent that she'd treat her at least semi -nice? I mean, she's supposed to be her daughter. I don't think I understand, sir."

Yamada's concern is clear as day, along with his trepidation, but Izuku ignores it. God, he hates this empathy quirk more and more every day.

"But she did treat her nicely," Yamada points out gently. "And that's the scary part, isn't it? Mother Gothel gave her gifts, she made her promises, and she did everything under the guise of protecting her so-called daughter. She even gave her a little freedom inside the tower itself through books and education. To Rapunzel, Gothel was a picture-perfect mother. Maybe a little overprotective, but who's to fault her there, y'know?" He sucks in a breath, his face souring. "She was 'nice.' But, kiddo, power just corrupts. What's that proverb? Absolute power corrupts absolutely. She was only nice to Rapunzel for her own benefit. She was always an actor. The only effort she put in was when she was sure it would keep Rapunzel satiated and obedient. That's what it was always about."

Izuku tips his head at these words. "Well, is it bad that I think she did love her? Before what happened here in the movie? It was a bad kind of love, but it was love nonetheless. Mother Gothel loved her for what she could give her, sure. She loved her for her naivety. She didn't love Rapunzel for who she really was or was supposed to be. And so, when Rapunzel grew up and left her, she... she snapped."

Something like sadness takes over Yamada's next words. "I think even a 'bad kind of love' isn't love at all. It's just manipulation."

But if it's all you had, wouldn't you want it to be love? It was love to me. That attention.

"How could she do that to the girl she called her daughter?" Izuku asks again, watching how Euegene cuts off a huge chunk of Rapunzel's hair.

How could he do that to his own son? Some part of himself asks at the same time.

Yamada must see the look on his face, or at least sense his new mood, as he reaches for the remote again. "Y'know, it's gettin' pretty late. I think we ought to wrap it up for now and—"

"No!" Izuku interjects, much louder than he intended.

The silence that follows rings in his ears, taunting him. Izuku is breathing heavily again. He swallows the new dryness in his throat and looks away, staring at how Pickles is currently having a staring contest with Meatball.

"Sorry," he mutters. "I just, er... I want to see how it ends."

It's quiet for what seems like the longest time. Izuku can feel Yamada's intense gaze on his face, and it makes him feel subconscious. But then Yamada puts his hand back in his lap, gradually. "Okay," he agrees, sounding neutral. Like he's calming down a wounded animal. "There's not much left to watch anyway. But after this, straight to bed, okay? Your body is exhausted, son."

Izuku nods vigorously in agreement, and the movie starts up again.

He feels bad for shouting like that, but he really does need to watch the end of it tonight.

Because Izuku wants to see what he could've done differently those few years ago.

The wings that stare back at him this time are different from the ones Izuku are used to.

He's not sure he understands it, but in this part of his brain, he's quite positive he's not supposed to. It would be impossible.

Izuku is staring down at the black pool again, having finally gone to sleep after hours of staring at the ceiling and contemplating just knocking himself out. When he awoke, he found himself in this void realm again.

Which isn't surprising. He was trying for the past few days before the internships to get a hang of what this place was.

He was close to the pool right upon spawning in, but he still had to shake off those monsters. They're feeling particularly rowdy this time. Izuku has an inkling he knows why.

It's because of the wings.

While Tsubasa's wings were large, red, and proportional to his body, Izuku's wings are not.

He stares at himself in the only reflection of the moon pool. His wings are pretty small, being only four or five feet in length on each side, and they're not red. On the posterior side, the wings are pure white. There's not a speck of dust or dirt on them, but they are speckled with tiny black dots and littered with pink scars. On the posterior side, however, they're pitch black. The kind of black that has you going, wow, okay, that really is an absence of everything and anything.

Inside the black interior are star-like structures. They're so small yet so bright that Izuku doesn't know what else to call them. It's like he has his own sky full of stars on one side of his wings.

Which would be perfect for flying at night, wouldn't it?

Despite how exciting the idea of this is, Izuku's guilt and confusion outweighs it all.

The not-stars glitter and twinkle at him, and his brows furrow. He doesn't understand why it's different for him. He can sort of understand why he has wings at all in this realm, as this is so obviously some kind of quirk realm or storage cabinet for him, but he just doesn't know why his are so unlike Tsubasa's.

It's going to tear Izuku apart until he figures it out. For now, though, Izuku is just set on reaching the other side of the moon pool. He knows there's someplace over there, just doesn't know what.

He needs to know. His curiosity is like a drug that's eating him away from the insides. He wants to also get out of whatever hell this is, so there's that. He definitely has some incentive here.

Hopefully it's better on the other side. That's all he can say.

With this thought in mind, Izuku breathes in deeply and steps right into the sludge of stars.

He sinks beneath the waves, and again he drowns with only a bubble to remember him by.