It's dark outside by the time I wake up. A good nap does the body wonders, but offers only temporary refuge for the heart. I remember falling asleep out of sheer desperation to get out of my own head for a while, but once I wake up, it only lasts as long as the initial grogginess does. The tide comes in, and a slightly watered-down mass of emotions comes flooding back into me. I lay awake face-down for another half hour before stomping myself out like a sleeping foot. The will to rise trickles in, and eventually I'm able to hoist myself up.

Startled by my sudden awake-ness, my stomach nags me for food. I haven't eaten all day.

Surprising nobody, I find my mom in the kitchen. She tried approaching me when I came home, eager to hear how I did, but backed off upon seeing me ragged and tear-streaked. I didn't even look at her, just collapsed on my bed without a word. That was kind of rude, I know.

"Hey, Mom."

She spins around, almost dropping the knife she's cutting vegetables with.

"Izuku!"

"Sorry about earlier. I just…" I don't want to give her any more details than I need to. "The test didn't go well."

She smiles understandingly and turns back around. "I figured. But you can just try again. No problem, right?"

I almost laugh. Instead I say, "Yeah," like an idiot, deciding to buy into the sickly fantastical future she thinks I'm capable of having. The sheer blind confidence mothers have in their sons is something to marvel at, and it gives me a shred of weird, bitter-tasting hope. "The next one's in a couple weeks. I guess I try improving my ninjutsu until then."

She says nothing, just continues her cutting.

"Kamui Sensei complimented me, actually. I mean, he failed me, but he said I have traits others could benefit from, like my awesome strategies and good note-taking. It was weird to hear, but maybe if I work hard I can…um…"

I notice the cutting has gradually slowed, stopping midway through a carrot.

She knows. She's always known. When she looks at me, she sees what I haven't been able to see for all these years. These arms will never guard a terrified child. My back will never carry an injured person to safety. My smile will never comfort a grieving heart. I've accepted these things for myself, but how can I accept them for her? She works all day to support her tiny, broken family, and I have the brass, the sheer audacity, to chase after a dream that I know in my heart will never come true? I'm disgusting. Unacceptable. Pathetic. I'd be better off de –

"Stop that," she says. I don't remember her turning around. I'm struck through the heart by the look in her eyes, and then pulverized as I realize Ochako delivered me this very look earlier today. The difference is my mother doesn't have to use words for me to understand what she's saying.

She digs in the pocket of her apron. "Here."

Suddenly I'm holding a voucher for Ichiraku Ramen. It's my go-to ramen shop, on the rare occasion I go out for ramen. Ramen is heavy and throws off my workout routine, so I try to limit my intake of anything but fiber and protein. But right now, I feel so, so right with this idea. My mother knows how to kill my hurtful thoughts better than anyone – with delicious food.

My stomach shouts at me again.

"We'll talk about it when you get home, okay?"

I break a genuine smile for the first time in days. Tears well up as I bask in the warm glow of the greatest love in the world.

"Okay," I say. "I'll be back soon." This seems satisfactory, because she doesn't even make me put on a jacket before I close the door behind me.


Ichiraku Ramen is a favorite among a lot of local shinobi – mostly Academy teachers and high-ranking leaders. Coming here lends a tiny feeling of kinship, like the noodle bar itself funnels the residual excellence into the next generation. For a second, I think I can smell it in the air, and hope beyond hope that some of it will take root in me.

It's actually just the smell of ramen, though, because duh.

I push the flap aside and take a seat on one of the stools. Teuchi, the old owner, takes notice of me immediately, as the bar is otherwise empty.

"What can I get you, son?" he asks. I hold out the voucher, good for one bowl of Tonkotsu, and he takes it. I toss in a bit of my own pocket change for as much extra pork as it will get me. It's to die for. "Coming right up."

I'd forgotten how cool it is to watch him work. Teuchi is a master, and his daughter Ayame isn't far off. They're a power duo and the best in the business, or so the endorsements plastered all over the wall claim. Seems a bit excessive, but hey. Good ramen is good ramen.

And boy, is it. When he sets the bowl in front of me, fragrant steam wafts straight into my nostrils. I go straight for the pork, too eager to ration it out. It's deeply seasoned and falls apart in my mouth. Heaven.

Just as I'm getting serious about the noodles, I hear the flaps part. I don't know what possesses me to look, but I do, and my chopsticks freeze in my mouth.

Taking the stool one over from me is, well, probably a man. He has spiking blonde hair and dons a loose-fitting pinstriped suit, so the odds are in favor of him at least being human. If he is, his father must be a skeleton, because I can practically see his bones through his skin. His jaw is sunken, and his bright eyes are so inset that his brow ridge shadows them. Does he even eat? Well, we're in a noodle bar, so I guess I'm about to find out. But, my gosh. He's the frailest person I've ever seen.

Teuchi takes his order like it's nothing. He even starts making small talk with the man, as if a zombie hasn't just taken a seat as his bar.

In my infinite social awareness, it occurs to me that I've been staring way too long. Not a millisecond after I realize this does the man extend a hand to me. I jolt, eyes darting down to it.

"How's it going, there?" he says in a voice far too deep for a scarecrow. I set down my chopsticks and gingerly shake his hand.

"Oh. Good. S-sorry…"

He waves it off, breaking a toothy grin that narrows his eyes.

"It's fine, it's fine. I get that look sometimes. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, too. Uh, I'm Izuku Midoriya."

His eyes widen ever so slightly. "Well, then. I'm Toshinori Yagi, and I think we'll be getting to know each other pretty well, Izuku."