AN: I am... very sorry for that long wait. Like, seriously, I apologize. Life got in the way and stuff happened, I had other fics I was, and still am, working on so those got in the way as well, but I got it done, eventually. Anyway, huge thanks to Rzen for being an amazing editor/beta. She's the best!


Everything was off, Shouto thought. The day just felt… wrong. It shouldn't have, but it did. It was a normal Friday, except it wasn't. Midoriya wasn't here. He was at home… recovering.

That knowledge should have comforted Shouto, but it didn't. Instead, it just made him feel worse, feel even more useless—there was nothing he could do to help.

He spent the majority of the day going through 'what-if' scenarios where Midoriya wasn't taken, where they were able to rescue him sooner, where things didn't end up the way they did. It was a futile attempt to block out his own feelings of ineptness; it only served to frustrate him more and more.

He hated this feeling—he wasn't used to it. Shouto had never felt like this before, this particular feeling of… despair. It was unique to him. In the past, the word 'despair' meant something different to him, it was a personal word, holding meaning to him, and his situation, but now… the despair he felt wasn't for himself. It was for Midoriya.

He couldn't stand that.

How could this have happened? It wasn't fair. It wasn't right.

Midoriya was… he was something else. He was Shouto's first real friend; he was important to him, and this entire situation had him on edge—it wasn't right, nor was it fair.

He shook his head of the thoughts, trying to concentrate on the lesson at hand.

It was no use though, and Uraraka kept sending him sidelong glances as if to make sure he was okay. Truth was, he wasn't sure if he was okay. He should be, by all means, but he couldn't say that he was, not without it being a lie.

He didn't know what he was at the moment, but 'alright' or 'okay' weren't the correct terms to use. Emotions weren't something he was typically good at—he felt lost in a wave of uncertainty.

However, now wasn't the time to be thinking about these types of things, so he pushed them to the side and tried to concentrate on the lesson at hand.

By the time the end of class came, Shouto wasn't even sure what the lesson had been about. He had tried to concentrate, he really had, but his mind had wandered more than he cared to admit, making it difficult for him to focus.

So lost in his own thoughts, Shouto didn't realize that Uraraka and Iida had come over to his desk.

"Todoroki?" Uraraka sounded concerned.

His head snapped up at her voice, he turned to meet her worried gaze, "Yes?" he asked, unsure if he really wanted to know what she had to say.

He noticed her brows knitted together, a sure sign that she was worried. She bit her lip anxiously, something he noticed she did often whenever she was nervous. "Are you doing okay? You were spacing out all class long," Uraraka supplied worriedly.

"Do you feel unwell?" Shouto turned his head to Iida, who looked just as distraught as Uraraka, but he was able to hide it better. His jaw was tense and his eyes were hard to read. It was the note of sympathy in his voice that gave way to his true feelings, "Or is there something else that is ailing you?" Iida's question held the same note of concern that Uraraka's did, and Shouto couldn't help but wonder if he was really that transparent.

"I assure you, I'm fine." He tried to convince them that nothing was wrong, but he doubted that it was very convincing.

"Are you sure?" Uraraka clearly didn't believe him. "You really don't look fine."

Shouto didn't know how respond. Part of him wanted to just say nothing, to brush them off and go to the dorms, but another part of him wanted to tell them what was bothering him. It was an internal tug-of-war.

In the end, he sighed, and decided that he should try talking to them. They were his friends, and if Midoriya was here, he would tell him to not keep his emotions pent up. "I am… unsure. Today has been odd for me. Everything should be fine, right? Midoriya is back. He's safe, and even went home yesterday, but it's not fine. Things aren't back to normal."

His remarks garnered sympathetic looks from both of them.

Iida grew contemplative. "It's true that Midoriya is back, that he's safe, but I understand your feelings. He may be back, but things aren't fine."

"I know," Uraraka cut in, "Why don't we all go visit him! I bet he'd like that. We could check up on him. Besides, I bet it's boring staying home all day with nothing to do."

Iida nodded in agreement. "I agree, I think it would be a nice sentiment if we all went and visited Midoriya, it may help boost his morale."

Shouto was hesitant to agree, but did so anyway. He really did want to see Midoriya; he just wondered if Midoriya wanted to see him—or rather hear his voice. He didn't forget Midoriya's reaction to his presence the last time he visited, and he didn't want to cause a disturbance if Midoriya didn't take to his presence well again.

In the end though, he did want to see his friend, and hopefully this time, his mere presence wouldn't bring about such a reaction in who he considered to be his closest friend.


Ochako was elated the entire walk back to the dorms. She wanted to see Deku again as soon as possible, and maybe, they would be able to cheer him up. He needed all the support he could get right now.

Her, Iida, and Todoroki made plans to visit Deku tomorrow in the afternoon. She wanted to see him now, but maybe it would be better to just give him a day or two to get accustomed to things at home, afterall… he was blind now. She didn't know what was wrong with his eyes, they looked normal, but he clearly couldn't see when they had gone to visit him earlier this week.

She was discussing some minor detail with Iida and Todoroki in the common room of the dorms when Kirishima came over.

"Did I hear you guys mention that you were going to visit Midoriya sometime soon?" His tone indicated excitement and enthusiasm over the prospect of visiting Deku soon.

"Yeah, Iida and I were going to ask Aizawa-sensei if we could have a pass to go visit him tomorrow. Do you want to join us?"

Kirishima beamed at the prospect. "If it's no trouble, yeah. I know I'm not as close to him as you guys, but I'm worried about him still, along with everyone else in class."

Ochako nodded her head in agreeance, "Yeah, even though he's back, things are still weird, but hopefully," her voice took on a happier note, "we can cheer Deku up, and things will go back to normal again." She knew that was a lie, nothing would ever be the same, but she held out hope for it because being pessimistic wasn't going to help anyone.


Katsuki's mind was in overdrive, a turbulent mess of conflicting emotions. His mind had been in dissonance ever since Deku had gone missing. He didn't care about stupid Deku, or so he thought, but not seeing the cheeky faced bastard walk into class everyday for six weeks had left him with a bad taste in his mouth.

Now, he was back, but he was different. Katsuki didn't like it. He was supposed to be that overly optimistic, never giving up nerd, not the quiet, timid person he had seen at the hospital. There had been no spark in his eyes, only hesitation and weariness. It wasn't right, and it irritated Katsuki to no end.

His irritation must have shown.

Shitty Hair kept giving him weird glances all day, and he hated it. He was discontented with everything right now, and he didn't know what to do. He wanted—needed—to punch something, let out his frustrations.

"Hey, bro, are you okay? You've had a scowl on your face all day, which isn't necessarily odd, but you just seem even more mad today." Shitty Hair just couldn't keep his trap shut.

"I'm fine," he gritted out, for once, unsure of the words he said.

"Are-are you sure? I mean, it's okay for you to be a little shaken—"

"I'm fine." There was a finality to his voice, an edge that left little room for disputing. Luckily, Shitty Hair didn't have a death wish and backed off.

The same couldn't be said for the rest of what had been deemed 'the Bakusquad'—the name was ridiculous, but Ashido had insisted on it.

Ashido and Kaminari tried to talk to him, boy did they try, but he was having none of it. Didn't anyone understand that he just didn't want to talk about anything? He had nothing to say on the matter except that Deku better recover quickly so everyone could quite worrying over his dumb ass. It was bad enough that the whole fucking class went sideways after stupid Deku was found; he didn't need them trying to talk to him about things that he didn't even understand.

He didn't care about stupid Deku. He really didn't… and yet, there was something, he didn't know what, inexplicably gnawing at him. It had been since the day Deku had been officially declared missing.

He wanted it to go away. He didn't need these shitty emotions. Deku was just a loser, a nerd, a stepping stone for him to become the number one hero, but without him there, it became obvious just how lost the class was.

It didn't make sense. Why did everyone act like the world stopped when Deku went missing? Class 1-A acted as though their hope had been taken. He didn't understand it; he did understand it, though.

He knew that shitty Deku had inspired these extra's, and they didn't know what to do with him gone, but he wasn't like that. So why did he feel that same sense of loss as them? It didn't make sense.

Since he wasn't paying attention to his surroundings, he didn't notice Shitty Hair was still there until he tapped his shoulder.

"Hey man… you still with us? You kinda spaced out on me…" He hated how Shitty Hair sounded concerned.

He was fine, just thinking, that's all. "I thought I told you I was fine," he seethed.

Shitty Hair didn't back down though, instead his concerned look only grew, "Hey man," he started, alarm raising in his voice, "I was just checking up on ya. You've been spacing out all day, and I was getting worried.

He didn't need Shitty Hair to worry about him. He was fine. "I thought I told you I was fine, Shitty Hair."

"Yeah, well," he relaxed slightly, "I was just making sure. You know you can talk to us," he gestured around the classroom, though Katsuki knew he was referring to the deemed 'Bakusquad', the only people he could actually tolerate in class.

"Anyway, I actually just wanted to let you know that we—Uraraka, Iida, Shouto and I—were planning on visiting Midoriya tomorrow at his apartment if you wanted to join."

"Fuck no! I don't want to visit that freaking nerd." He was livid, but he wasn't sure why. A sudden anger had washed over him, but he couldn't place its origin. It had nothing to do with Shitty Hair or his concerns.

"Okay," Shitty Hair assuaged, or tried to, putting his hands up in surrender, "just know the offer still stands if you change your mind."

"No chance in hell am I gonna visit that stupid ass nerd," he huffed out before walking away.

He didn't want—didn't need—to visit stupid Deku. He didn't care what happened to that nerd… but he'll be damned if he lets the nerd off the hook for missing so much training.

He stopped in his tracks. His relationship with Deku had never been good, and he had no intentions of mending it—it didn't need to be mended, they were fine where they were right now—but… and he hated how there was a 'but' to his line of thinking. It genuinely bothered him that Deku was in his current position. Why? He didn't care what happened to that half-baked loser, but it did.

For whatever it was worth, Deku was never placated with him—Deku was always challenging him, forcing him to prove just how much better he was. It didn't matter how big or small the gap was, Deku would make sure he fought tooth and nail in a futile attempt to prove himself to Katsuki. As much as he hated to admit it, Katsuki had acknowledged him… during their fight that one time. He had seen that Deku was a worth adversary.

He shook his head of such thoughts. Deku didn't matter, and he didn't need to check up on him; he would be fine. There was no need to worry about him.

Maybe that was the crux of his frustration; everyone was acting like he was some broken toy, but he wasn't—he couldn't be. Those idiots didn't know Deku the way he did. There was no way Deku would have succumbed to whatever those shitty villains did. He was much too stubborn for that, and yet here everyone was, acting like the freaking world had ended because he got a little roughed up.

Deku was fine, he had to be, because Katsuki didn't know what he'd do if he wasn't.


Toshinori had never wanted class to end faster than he did right now. Yesterday he had talked with Naomasa, who was going back to where they had found Izuku today. He couldn't say he agreed with Naomasa's decision, and he had a bad feeling about the entire ordeal, but he trusted him. Naomasa was smart, he wouldn't get himself into a situation that he couldn't get himself out of.

For now, his main concern was Izuku. He knew that the kid had been discharged from the hospital yesterday, and he was hoping to stop by the Midoriya's apartment today after class got out to check up on Izuku. Which brought him to his current predicament: waiting for class to get out.

If he really wanted to, he could leave now, he knew that. Ever since the Kamino Ward incident, he had become pretty useless, and so it wouldn't be a surprise to anyone if he suddenly went home. Leaving class early was out of the question, of course, as he would never do that, but the thought was entertaining.

Eventually, classes did end, and he was able to leave. It had taken long enough, he thought, as he made his way to the Midoriya household. He desperately hoped he wasn't going to interrupt something when he got there; he hadn't thought to let Midoriya Inko know he was stopping by—a stupid decision in hindsight. Maybe he could leave a quick text or call, let her know he was coming over, but a selfish part of him wanted to come unannounced, that way, even if he had come at a bad time he would at least have gotten to see Izuku.

Izuku…

There was so much he didn't know about Izuku's condition. It was… disheartening to not know more, but then, he wasn't sure he wanted to know. He had seen the state Izuku had been in before… back at the hospital, and while the physical injuries would heal—he still didn't know the extent of the physical injuries—the mental scars were much deeper, and would take a much longer time to heal.

He hated thinking about it; Izuku was just a child. To think that something like this could happen to him, it wasn't fair.

It wasn't right.

It happened though, and now all they could do was move forward, work through it, and help him heal.

He tried not to dwell on his thoughts as he walked to the Midoriyas' apartment.

It was a rather nice day out today and so he tried to enjoy the scenery as the Midoriyas' apartment complex came into view.

The Midoriyas' apartment was small, but quaint. He had been over there multiple times since young Midoriya had been taken, however, those time had been under far less pleasant circumstances than now. Still, he hesitated from knocking on the door.

He could faintly hear voices coming from inside. With great trepidation, he found himself knocking on the door, alerting the tenants to his presence.

He waited nervously for a beat, before the door opened slowly.

"Yes, who-oh, Yagi-san? Why-what are you doing here?" Midoriya Inko asked, clearly startled by his sudden appearance.

"Please, call me Toshinori," he was comfortable enough around the Midoriyas' to be okay with them calling him by his name, "Oh, umm, Midoriya-san, I wanted," now that he was here, he didn't know what to say, "Umm, I wanted to see how young Mid- how Izuku was fairing."

Something like concern flashed through her eyes, but it was gone just as quickly as it came. She opened the door, allowing him entrance, "Alright, Toshinori. Why don't you come in? Oh and," she gave him a warm smile, "you can call me Inko."

Smiling, he nodded as he entered.

His attention was immediately brought to Izuku, who was gazing curiously—if a bit fearfully—in his direction from the couch. His eyes looked tired, but all too alert at the same time, as if they were expecting something horrible to happen. They were the eyes of someone who was haunted—they didn't belong on a child.

"Izuku, my boy," in hindsight, his declaration may have been too sudden as Izuku jumped at the sound and clutched the blanket that was wrapped around him tightly before regaining control of himself.

"All-All…" his voice cracked, and he stopped mid-sentence. He remained quiet for a moment longer. "Toshinori?" he finally questioned. It surprised Toshinori that he called him by his name. He couldn't recall a time in which he had ever done that before. It was certainly odd, but not unwelcome.

Something in his tone didn't sit right with Toshinori, though. It sounded too defeated, too worn down… it almost sounded as if he had given up—not on life, but on something else, some kind of hope that he had previously been clinging to. It was unsettling.

"Hey, kid," he waved, then realised how stupid that was, and quickly put his hand down. "Toshinori-san…" Midoriya Inko stated warmly, "Feel free to make yourself at home." He nodded silently as he entered their home.

She then turned her attention to her son, "Izuku," he startled slightly, but relaxed once he realized it was just his mother, "I'll be in the kitchen if you need anything." He swallowed shakily then nodded, something, he wasn't sure what, taking over his features as he turned his gaze back towards Toshinori.

Izuku was staring intently in his direction, an unknowing fear etched into his eyes—it was primal, an instinctual fear that didn't belong on anyone's face, let alone a child's.

"You look better," he mentioned as he sat down in a chair adjacent to the couch in which Izuku was resting. Izuku had a blanket—a fleece blanket with an All Might design that made Toshinori smile a little—wrapped around him like an armor. While he wasn't lying, Izuku did look better than the last time he had seen him, he still looked rather worn down and ragged. His skin was pale, eyes were forever lost in a shimmering expanse of unfocused emerald. Bandages peeked out from beneath his shirt and lined his arms, reminding Toshinori that Izuku was still recovering from physical injuries as well as mental.

Izuku nodded, "I… yeah, I-I guess." He looked lost, unsure of himself, or what to say. "T-today has been a pretty good day." There was a frustration lingering in his voice as he said it.

He was hoping that Izuku would elaborate, but when he remained quiet, Toshinori prompted him, "Yeah?"

There was moment where Izuku didn't respond. Toshinori saw a battle raging in his eyes, and wondered if he should change the subject. Just as he was about to do so, Izuku spoke up.

"Mom and I… We were listening to a podcast," he said contentedly.

"Oh really? And what was this podcast about?"

"It was sci-fi, lots of aliens, and a corrupt government," Izuku answered simply.

He wasn't sure what he was expecting Izuku to say, but it certainly wasn't… that. "That's… interesting, maybe you could tell me a little more about it?"

Thus began a long winded explanation on the entire story of the podcast—Toshinori didn't mind though, because Izuku had shown a bit of the old him when talking about it, and going through several theories he held over the plot.

About midway through his explanation, Inko returned to the living room—she had announced her presence so as to not startle Izuku—with some tea. She offered him a cup, which he accepted graciously.

Things appeared to be going well, Izuku was less tense, and Toshinori could pretend that nothing was wrong with him. He listened intently as Izuku nerded out over the podcast, genuinely intrigued with what Izuku was saying.

Then the phone rang.

It was a clear, sharp tone that sliced through the air, not caring about subtly. The sudden noise caught them all off guard; however, their reactions were all very different.

He jumped slightly, but was otherwise fine—it was just a phone ringing after all. Inko jumped slightly as well, a note of concern bubbling in her features as she hurriedly went to pick it up—she went into another room to take the call.

Izuku froze. His features were a mask of undiluted fear. He was tense, his form visibly shaking, and Toshinori could only imagine what was going on in his head right now.

"Izuku… kid?" he questioned, but Izuku wasn't with him. His mind was far away, eyes gazing ahead, but seeing nothing.

He tried again, not sure what to do in this situation—he had seen trauma victims before, dealt with a few, but never like this. This was a completely new experience for him, "Izuku? Kid, stay with me."

Owlishly, and with great hesitance, Izuku blinked. The fog lifted from his eyes, and he snapped his head to Toshinori—or as close to it as he could guess.

He winced at the movement, pain shrouding his features for the briefest moment. "Toshi-Toshinori?" The fear in his voice was unsettling.

"Hey, kid. Just calm down, okay. It was just the phone ringing," he kept his voice low and as soothing as he could. He didn't want to startle Izuku any more than he already was.

"I," he gulped, "I'm sorry… I didn't mean to—"

"It's fine. No worries, it caught us all off guard." He tried to alleviate the situation.

Izuku nodded hesitantly, the fear receding, but the tenseness remaining. "I guess, but it's still-I shouldn't be reacting like this… It's stupid," the bitterness ran strongly through his words.

"Izuku, it's not stupid—"

"It is," he cut him off, "It was a phone ringing, and yet, I acted like it was…" he trailed off, clutching his blanket tightly.

Toshinori was not cut out for this. He was guessing on every action; he didn't know how to deal with this kind of thing. For now, he wouldn't push it—this was beyond his ability to deal with—instead, he opted to change the subject. "So, I heard that the entire class came to visit you while you were in the hospital."

"Hmm?" Izuku stopped for a moment, clearly not expecting the topic change, but the relief that flooded through his eyes was enough to tell Toshinori that changing topics was a good idea. "Yeah… they did. It was nice… but…"

"But?"

Izuku tilted his head, wincing slightly at the movement before continuing, "It was a little overwhelming?" He sounded unsure. "I don't really know-I just—" he cut himself off as he winced again.

"Izuku, are you okay? You're not in pain, are you?"

"No, I'm-I'm fine… just a little sore, I guess." He tried to brush it off, but Toshinori could tell he was uncomfortable.

"Are you sure? Do you have any pain medication you can take?"

"No, it's-really, it's not that bad. I'm just a little sore is all."
Toshinori decided to give him the benefit of the doubt, mostly because he didn't want to get into an argument over it. If Izuku said he was fine, and could handle it, then he trusted that it was fine.

Izuku relaxed a little when he realized Toshinori wasn't going to bring it up again. His eyes lazily drifted over to the kitchen—or at least in that general direction.

It seemed Izuku's eyesight hadn't gotten any better—it didn't surprise him, but it was still concerning, and it brought more questions than it answered.

"Izuku…" He didn't want to bring this up, but at the same time he really did want to know, "Your eyes…"

He saw Izuku stiffen and almost, almost relented in asking all together, but a selfish part of him wanted to know. Izuku had been gone for a long time, and a lot of damage had been done, he knew that, but he didn't know what the damage was. He wanted to know, because the more he knew the more he could understand. He just wanted to help Izuku, not knowing all that had happened killed him, but at the same time it also spared him.

Not knowing meant he spent hours lying awake at night wondering about the horrors these villains had put a child through, but it also meant that he didn't have to know what these horrors were. It was a double edged sword, but in the end, he needed to know, if nothing more than to ease his mind.

It was selfish, he knew, but he hoped that in knowing he could help Izuku, even if it was only a little bit.

"What exactly is wrong with them?" It was concerning to him that Izuku's eyes looked perfectly fine. They even dilated appropriately. What could possibly be wrong with them?

Immediately, Izuku's face darkened, and he turned away from Toshinori.

"It's…" Izuku muttered out the last bit in a voice so low that Toshinori couldn't decipher what he had said.

"I didn't quite get that last bit."

"I said it's stupid," he bit out.

"Izuku, I'm sure it's not stupid—"

"It is though." There was a self loathing buried deep within his tone, and Toshinori didn't like it, but before he could say anything Izuku continued, "there's nothing-there's absolutely nothing wrong with them. Or at least, that's what that doctor said."

He opened his mouth to respond, but the words died on his lips. That… didn't make sense. How could his eyes be fine, yet he was still blind? It just didn't add up. "Izuku, I'm not sure I know—" he stopped himself. He didn't know what to say to that. Was there anything he could even say about that? "That doesn't make sense."

Izuku let out a mirthless laugh, "Yeah, no kidding, but my eyes-they're fine… physically, I mean. I don't-It's not-hmm—" Izuku seemed struggle to find his own words, "I was told by the neurologist that it was called… umm, it was called conversion disorder? I don't-I'm not sure, but I think she said that."

Conversion disorder. He had heard of that before. He wasn't sure what it was, but he was sure he had heard of it before. "Well, I can't say I know exactly what that is—" yet, he added silently, "—but it's not stupid."

Sighing, Izuku twisted the blankets with his left hand. It was clear that he was uncomfortable with the situation. "It is though," he whispered, pain and shame washing over the words, "I can't see because my own mind just-just decided that I couldn't? How is that—" Izuku turned to face him, resolve set into his unseeing eyes, "tell me-tell me how that's not stupid."

The inflection on the word 'stupid' didn't settle well with Toshinori. It was full of shame and self loathing, a twisted hate that didn't belong there.

"Izuku." He needed Izuku to listen to him, but it seemed Izuku was done listening as he had turned his face away, and curled on the couch in a defensive position. Still, he needed Izuku to hear what he had to say. "Izuku," he repeated firmly.

"It's so stupid," he mumbled finally, "I'm back. I'm safe now. Why can't I just be fine? I understand that'll take time for my injuries to heal and for my reactions to go back to normal, but this," he didn't move his hands at all to emphasize the 'this', seeing as one arm was still in a sling and the other was clinging to his blanket like a lifeline, but the implication was obvious, "They took enough from me as it is—" there was a shaky intake of breath, "I don't need-why does my own brain have to be against me too?" The tears could be heard in his voice as he spoke.

Whatever words he planned to say died in his throat. Words alone were not enough at this moment. Izuku didn't need pretty words to help him. Nothing he could say would quell whatever turmoil Izuku was in. He needed something stronger—something more tangible, more real—than any flimsy string of words he could put together.

Still, he couldn't say nothing, "Izuku." He got up from his seat and moved to the couch where Izuku lay. While Izuku did flinch at the initial change in pressure on the couch, he didn't move away or show any signs of distress at it.

"Kid, it's not going to be easy, believe me. I know that the road to recovery is a long one," he settled a hand on Izuku's shoulder, prompting another small flinch from the kid, "but," he let the weight fall on the word, "it has to start somewhere."

"I know-it's just—"

"It's unfair, I know," he cut Izuku off, not allowing his doubts to come forth, "It's really, really unfair kid. You don't deserve this. You don't deserve any of this." Just thinking about it was making Toshinori upset, and he could already feel the burning sensation at the back of his eyes.

Izuku sat up, his eyes were glassy and pained, tears were streaming steadily down his face now. "I just don't understand—"

"I know." He was trying to keep his composure, but his own emotions were getting the better of him, "I don't understand it either. It wasn't-this isn't something you should have to deal with-no one should. I wish," he took a moment to pull himself together before continuing, "I truly wish there was more I could do to help you, Izuku, but I'm powerless." He was rambling, but once he started he couldn't stop. His own ineptness came crashing through, and it refused to let him shut up, "I can't do anything, and it hurts, because you're in pain-you're suffering, and all I can do is watch. I am-was the symbol of peace, someone you could rely on, but now I'm… I can only offer you my support and I'm—"

He was cut off by Izuku crashing into him with a hug. It was fierce and needy, and a little more forceful than he probably intended, but Toshinori chalked that up to Izuku having to guestimate where exactly he was. He could feel the raw emotion coming off of him in waves. He was shaking slightly from the choked sobs that were racking his small frame.

It was a really awkward hug, Toshinori thought, with Izuku only being able to use one hand, but it was a needed comfort, and so he returned the hug instantaneously, wrapping his own rail thin arms around the sobbing boy.

"Izuku" he whispered out.

"I just-I worked so hard to get to where I am. I don't want-I don't want it to be over," he choked out in a broken whisper. "I'm trying. I'm really trying, but nothing is working-it's just… it's not good enough. I'm not good enough."

Toshinori's chest physically hurt. It ached for Izuku and his suffering, a deep sorrow that etched its way into his bones and ran through his being. "You are good enough. Izuku. I need you to understand that, okay? You're more than what you give yourself credit for. I know you're trying, kid. We all know you're trying. It just-it takes time."

"I know that… but how much time? It's exhausting. Its really exhausting, trying to be okay, and get back to normal. I don't know if I can-I know it'll get better. I know that, but I'm having a hard time believing it." The defeatist tone in his voice was harrowing. "Can I still even be a hero now?"

It was a big question. There was a lot of weight in those words, and Toshinori's answer was important—he could feel it. Izuku wasn't just asking him. He was waiting for a confirmation or denial. He couldn't answer it lightly, but he wouldn't lie either. He needed his answer to stick with Izuku. His answer needed to be something Izuku could fall back on whenever he was in doubt.

"Izuku," he started, his tone somber. Once he had Izuku's full attention, he continued, "Nothing, and I mean nothing that has happened to you can stop you from being a hero. I know you, I know what kind of person you are, and if those villains," he let a bit of his anger slip through at the mention of the villains, but was able to reign it in, "if they thought that they could break that then they are sorely mistaken. You're strong, Izuku, one of the most resilient people I know, and I have no doubt that, given time, you'll make a fine hero—one of the best."

He wasn't sure if his words would suffice. This was something he was generally good at, giving speeches, but now it felt so much more important that his words got through to Izuku, because there wasn't anything else he could do but stand by his side while he recovered. He knew that, in and of itself, would mean a lot, but it didn't feel like enough; it would never feel like enough.

Nothing was said for a moment, and Toshinori thought he might have said the wrong thing, but then Izuku cut through the silence with a shaky voice, "I-I," he struggled to form any words, "thank you."

It was just one sentence, two words, but it was enough. Even if it was just a little bit, those words had helped Izuku—they had given him hope.

Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Midoriya Inko, watching them from the kitchen door. She looked tired, exhausted, but the smile she wore was one of thanks. She must have heard at least the tail end of their conversation.

He gave her a smile, not willing to pull away from the embrace just yet, letting Izuku have this moment of comfort last just a bit longer.

His phone started to vibrate in his pocket—he was suddenly very grateful of the fact that he had put his phone on vibrate before coming over—and he was forced to relinquish his hold on Izuku.

Izuku looked slightly hurt at the action, but Toshinori explained that he just needed to answer a phone call. Not bothering to check the caller I.D. Toshinori sat up and answered the call.

As soon as he heard the voice on the other end he knew it was serious. He gave Inko a look, one that suggested he needed to take this phone call someplace that was not here, and she nodded, gesturing to the kitchen. He nodded and walked past her into the kitchen.


Inko felt a little guilty that she got sidetracked by that phone call. It took longer than she would have liked, but at the very least Toshinori had come over after classes, so she didn't have to worry about Izuku for the moment.

She hated that she felt this way, but it was such a relief when Toshinori turned up—it meant she didn't feel the need to be by Izuku's side all the time. It wasn't his fault, but Izuku was a lot to handle, and it was almost nice to not have to worry about him, even if only for a few minutes.

She felt immense guilt over feeling this way. Izuku needed her, and she needed him, so why was it so exhausting taking care of him? She knew it was because neither of them knew what to do with the situation, they were both struggling to grasp the circumstances, but it was tiring all the same.

So, she was almost relieved when she got the phone call and was able to slip away for a few moments. The call was from a friend she hadn't spoken to in months; they hadn't any clue what she was dealing with and had just called to catch up. It had been nice to talk to her friend, to be able to pretend that everything was okay right now. Even though she enjoyed chatting with her friend, she ended up cutting the conversation short, wanting to get back to Izuku—as much as she liked having this time where she didn't need to worry about him, she still did worry about him.

What she saw when she left the kitchen was Izuku grabbing onto Toshinori like a lifeline. It hurt her physically to see her son under such duress, and she wanted nothing more than to run up to him and make all his fears go away, but she relented. Toshinori looked to have the situation under control, and so she let him continue handling it.

It was the right decision. She didn't know what they had been talking about, but to hear Toshinori, the former number one hero, telling her son that despite everything, he could still be a hero, it was comforting. No matter how bad it got, if Izuku could rely on them to always be there then she had no doubt that he would recover.

It wasn't until after their conversation had ended that Toshinori got a phone call. His face, upon answering the phone, became serious, and he took the phone call to the kitchen, where he could have some privacy, as she had indicated to him.

Inko went to sit beside Izuku, who looked worn down after that conversation—he still tired rather easily, and he looked emotionally spent. She just sat in silence, by Izuku's side when Toshinori came back into the room, a restrained expression on his face.

"I must take my leave here," his tone had taken on an urgentness that concerned both her and Izuku as he tensed at the words. "I'm sorry, this is rather sudden, but something came up. I'll call you," he was addressing her now, a slight panic arose in his voice, "when I have more information."

He left after that, not bothering to close the door on his way out. Inko was worried about what had happened. He had seemed distressed by the phone call, and she wondered who it had been from.

"That didn't sound good." Izuku murmured.

Inko nodded her head in agreement. "No, it didn't." There was a foreboding note in her voice as she said it.


AN: So there ya go, another cliff hanger that I am not sorry for~ Okay, I hope this chapter gave you some insight on some stuff, because I know I got a few reviews asking about Izuku's eyes, and I assure you, I did my research (this includes ptsd among other things, but specifically conversion disorder) on this and I'm trying to keep it as accurate as I can. If you have any suggestions, I would greatly appreciate them as they help e figure out where I should take the story next~ Anywho, I hope you enjoyed the chapter and as always, until next time,

Vera~