Eleven days.

One after another, each day passed, night and day, coming and going routinely, as if there was nothing wrong with the world. And to something as astral as the cycle of Earth's rotation, why would there by something wrong? There was nothing that threatened its rotation. Nothing that was waging war on the balance of the universe. Out of all the problems that existed, none of them threated the delicate balance that existed.

For that, Uraraka was grateful.

The constant shift from day to night kept her sane. As the sun rose, peaked, then slowly sank toward the horizon, the consistency became the only regular occurrence in her life, and for that, she was grateful. Sure, each day brought new surprises, such as rain when it was supposed to be sunny, and sometimes she'd meet someone new on her transit to school, but for the most part, it was the same sight of the rising run that greeted her, and the blinking moon that bid her farewell.

After classes ended, she typically made a beeline for Midoriya's personal observation room, and there she'd spend the remainder of her day, idly doting on her homework, while Midoriya quietly became accustomed to her presence.

Admittedly, that hadn't been her intention.

Like she'd admitted to Iida, she had been afraid to confront her friend, in fear of what she'd find. It had taken Iida's presence and shame to drive her to visit him, and even then, she was barely able to stand the crushing silence that hung in the room when she'd entered. When she saw his green-hair, for a second, she felt like everything was okay. Then, the scars appeared, and the illusion disappeared, cut through like a knife through fog. It lingered, but didn't remain.

As expected, Midoriya didn't recognize her, nor Iida. She wasn't mad about that. She wasn't even as sad as she thought she'd been. It was hard to hear him ask her name, and even harder to introduce herself again, but it was expected. She should've known it was going to happen.

That didn't make it any easier.

After that little episode, she decided she was going to visit him.

Everyday.

And each day, she was greeted with the same Midoriya.

"W-who... are you?"

She grit her teeth and forcibly smiled, ignoring the painful tugging that pulled at her heartstrings every time she answered. It was hard, but every time she shakily stated her name, she remembered the rumor that Midoriya didn't remember his mother, and that was something that the young heroine couldn't even imagine. She didn't have a child, so she couldn't begin to try and imagine the feeling... but if she was taking a guess, then it was about ten times worse than each time she had to painfully introduce herself to him.

Once her name was out there, and he had muttered it a few times under his breath, they fell into a silence that wasn't quite comfortable, but wasn't awkward, either. It usually stemmed from Uraraka's fear in saying anything that might trigger an episode for the injured boy, though she knew part of it was also due to his paralyzing fear. But he hadn't tried to use his quirk yet, so that was a win, according to Recovery Girl.

Eleven days had passed since she'd begun visiting him, and very little had changed between the two of them, although that wasn't to say he wasn't improving immensely otherwise. Each healing session was like a little piece of the puzzle that he'd lacked the day before. His speech was slowly beginning to clear up, and while his fear lingered (an unfortunate instance of PTSD, from Recovery Girl's suspicion), he was beginning to stammer less each time he began speaking, and he also was beginning to move without pain. His speed was improving, as well, and his reflexes were almost as good as before the incident had occurred - which was a very convincing sign for everyone.

"Ah, hello again, dearie! I just finished up his latest healing session." Uraraka bowed slightly for the elderly nurse, and smiled as she readjusted the pack on her back. "I take it you want to sit with him?"

"Yes, ma'am." It had become their thing. She'd keep doing it... until he remembered. "That's okay, right?"

Recovery Girl nodded. "Of course. Just head in whenever you're ready."

Uraraka nodded and went up to the door, knocking once to give him a bit of a warning, before opening the door and walking inside. From the bed, a bundle of green-hair popped up, and despite the fatigue that plainly highlighted his features, a look of confusion crossed his face. Before he even spoke, Uraraka felt the familiar pain in her chest, and tried to resist the urge to cry right then.

He still didn't remember.

"W-who... are you?"

You know me, Deku. "My name is Uraraka Ochako! We're in the same class together."

His eyebrows furrowed, and like the ten days before this one, he frowned and sat up in bed, trying to piece together the missing pieces. "Class...?"

"Mm! We're in the heroics class together. At U.A."

You already know this.

But he didn't. He'd been broken, and he didn't know this anymore.

"W-we are?! I... U.A...?" Like each time before, a light filled his eye and he almost broke out into a massive grin, as if the words were a dream come true to him. According to Inko, they were. Each time he heard them, he reacted a little differently, but in the end, he always seemed elated, and it was the only part of this whole ordeal that made Uraraka feel... happy.

Each time he got to experience that jubilation, the chestnut-haired girl thanked her lucky stars that she got to witness that pure emotion that she didn't get to see that often. Pride and Midoriya didn't go together; he was never satisfied. His classwork, his training, it didn't matter which. He was never satisfied with where he was, and because of that, he rarely took time to settle down. She wasn't sure if she'd ever seen him bask in his success before.

But that was the same attitude that inspired her own pursuit of greatness. Because of him, she found her own drive, and that was something she couldn't thank him for enough.

"Wow." He said quietly, before laying back in bed. He smiled, awestruck by the news, before he sat back up, confusion once again on his face. "Why don't I remember this?"

This was the hard part.

She bit her bottom lip, and her hands began fumbling with her bangs - a nervous habit she had adopted in middle school. "You had an accident." She used to stumble through her words, stammering and whispering at the times where her confidence abandon her, or at the times where her memory took over, and the emotional time without him overwhelmed her explanation. During these times, he became concerned, and, ironically, tried to console her. But each time she told the story, the flutter in the words faded, and she became more accustomed to it.

Which scared her.

Wasn't that... wrong? Was it really okay that she was becoming used to telling the story that involved one of her best friends beaten to a pulp and abused to the point of having emotional trauma and massive memory loss?

"Accident...?"

She nodded. His face contorted as he tried to recall the incident - and part of her hoped desperately that he recalled something - but like every time before it, he groaned and laid back, unable to recall even a single detail from the supposed accident. "I can't remember."

"I know," she said, keeping the emotion from her voice. She knew better than almost anyone. Only Inko knew that better, and that was because as soon as Uraraka left, Inko would come, and keep her son company throughout the night. Only his mother knew better, because his mother had to go through the same ordeal she did. "Don't strain yourself."

Each time, she gave him the same warning, which he'd blatantly ignore, but she knew better than to become annoyed with him when he tried anyways. She couldn't blame him, either. If their roles were reversed, she'd want to know, too.

"I'm sorry."

She knew that. She knew he was sorry. Every time they spoke... he was sorry. And yet... nothing changed. But it wasn't his fault.

"Don't b-"

"Are you okay?"

She hesitated. Had he...?

Up to this point, she'd glanced at him every so often, but for the most part, she'd found interest in other parts of the room, since he, too, was enraptured by other things - presumably since he was rather timid when it came to people, let alone girls. However, as soon as he'd interrupted her, she'd locked her face into her gaze, as her eyes subconsciously widened. He blinked nervously and looked away, but that didn't deter her.

"Am I... okay?" She repeated uncertainly. Maybe she'd just been imagining things?

He shuffled uncomfortably. "Y-yeah... you just looked... off."

This was new.

"You can tell that?" She asked hesitantly.

"I... yes?" It was more of a question, but it was still an answer, and she'd take it eagerly. "You don't look... y-you..." He trailed off weakly.

But the implications were there.

He remembered something.

"Deku...?"

Either he didn't hear her, or he was too wrapped up in thought to process her voice, because he didn't respond in any way that suggested he'd heard her. He stared downward, motionlessly, trying to figure out the feeling he was no doubt overcome by. "You... I don't... y-you don't look... l-like yourself...?"

'Let it come back to the boy naturally.' That had been Recovery Girl's warning. Forcing him to remember anything wouldn't help him in the long run. This was the first breakthrough that SHE'D witnessed. She hadn't yet attempted to ask his time before being found. Partially because she was afraid of causing an episode, but partially because she was terrified of his answer, should he remember.

Honestly, at this exact moment, she had no idea what to say. She'd dreamt, night after night, about what she'd say if he remembered something, and how it would turn out. But yet, at this moment, she was completely stunned. "I... uh..."

Slowly, he reached forward, and stretched out his hand, before hesitating and withdrawing his fingers. "Sorry... I-I didn't mean to..."

"No!" He blinked, surprised by her ferocity, and she winced at the level of her voice. She cleared her throat. "N-no, it's okay, really. I appreciate it."

A silence descended over the duo, and for a moment, Uraraka felt like she had one of best friends back. Shyly, she glanced over at him, and it was difficult to tell he had even been missing in the first place. His arms were scarred, but they'd been scarred from the Sports Festival, in fairness. Otherwise, the sparkle that had glimmered in his emerald eyes was back, and the residual fatigue he'd been wearing in his posture had finally faded from sight. Honestly, he looked... normal. And that was the scary part, wasn't it?

He was still a long ways from being normal again.

He'd have nightmares most nights. He'd probably flinch at most physical contact. A tremor would overtake his body if he was left alone in places he wasn't familiar with. Who knew how his quirk would be affected as result of the drugs he'd been exposed to?

She couldn't take it. She had to know - she had to be there for him. Nobody had gotten much information from him, mostly because of the multiple seizures he'd suffered since being recovered.

"Do you remember anything?"

There was so much emotion in those words; so much hope. It was backed by days - no, weeks - of missing her best friend. Each day he wasn't in class, she felt her heart sink a little bit, although she never knew exactly why. Each day she walked home alone, with no one to talk to, she felt a lag in her step, though she couldn't put a reason to the weight on her chest. For every moment that he missed, she missed him.

Selfish desires be damned; she needed him back. He was the fire behind Class 1-A. He was their spirit. Their desire to improve. He was the catalyst to their equation - accelerating their growth in a way he'd probably never intended.

He was their Deku.

Midoriya laid back, a look of uncertainty flickering across his face, and he folded his hands over his abdomen, tightly clasping together as if he were afraid of letting go. "I have... d-dreams..." Uraraka remained silent; she didn't want to say anything and interrupt his recollections. Once he started speaking, he could become easily spooked, so it was important to remain quiet and let him go off, whilst still reminding him that she was listening. "S-sometimes... I-I don't know if they're real."

"What are they?" Her voice was barely above a whisper, yet it felt so much louder.

He closed his eyes tightly. Shakily, he took a breath in. "Of the times I was beaten."

A silence enveloped the room. Uraraka had no idea what to say. What was there to say? Comfort words seemed... fake, if not hollow. Whatever she could offer him, he'd probably already heard from his mother, or he'd thought himself. Besides; he looked... at peace with everything, as absurd as it sounded. He definitely wasn't comfortable with everything that had happened, but he didn't seem to be pretending like it hadn't happened. He was recovering. And he was okay with that.

"U-Uraraka?" He looked at her uneasily, sitting up once more. She locked eyes with him.

"Yes?" She responded softly.

"Is it true my mother is... alive?"

She blinked. It had completely slipped her mind that he'd been forcefully convinced that his mother had perished. With everything that had happened, it had been somewhat easy to forget some rather important tidbits that she was ashamed to admit that she'd forgotten. But now that she'd been reminded... she was stripped of her voice.

What did she say? What should she say? Should she be honest? There was no reason, in her mind, that she should lie, or deny the truth. There was no good that came from it - plus, she knew that Inko was coming to visit every night, spending hours convincing him that she was alive.

But was it better to avert the question? Was there a reason she shouldn't answer?

"W-what..." She swallowed thickly. "What makes you think she isn't?"

"Those men. They... when they were b-beating me... I-I think they were trying to draw out my power. My q-quirk." That made sense, Uraraka realized. Physical trauma was a means to catalyze a quirk, drawing out its untapped upper limits. Times of crisis; there was an entire theory that had been published by a graduate of U.A. involving how stress and adrenaline could force a quirk to temporarily exceed its limits. "B-But I... I didn't want to...!"

His shout caused the young girl to jump in place, surprised by his sudden emotion. His fists clenched, his mouth a thin line as memories rushed through his head, the events on replay like a home-made horror movie. "T-they wanted me to hurt innocent people... s-steal for them...! But..." Green eyes met brown. Defiance burned in his gaze. "I couldn't... I wouldn't!"

Then, his voice turned mute. "So... they hurt me. And then... they told me they killed my mom. T-they even brought in... e-evidence."

Uraraka felt her heart break when his voice cracked, a tear nearly slipping down her cheek as he recalled the horrific memories. Whatever evidence he was referring to, she knew she couldn't bare to know. It would actually break her.

And she knew she wasn't to blame, but she couldn't help the rush of guilt she felt, nor could she help from reaching forward and taking his scarred hand in hers. He looked surprised, and stiffened under her touch, but he didn't pull back, to which she was grateful.

"You're okay now..." She whispered. She hated how weak her voice sounded, how the cracks littered each syllable, threatened to break apart her words, and with it, the crumbling façade she had up. He needed her to be strong. He needed her strength - not her weakness.

He sniffled. "Y-yeah... I a-am. Thanks to everyone."

The two teenagers sat in silence, relishing each other's company, as Uraraka gently ran her fingers across the top Midoriya's hand, through the valleys of his knuckles, and across each scar that decorated his skin. His calluses were hard, and there were a few areas that felt rough to the touch under her finger pads, but he didn't move, or flinch when she felt the skin turn hard, and so she kept moving. It made her happy that he didn't pull away - at least he was willing to let her in, if only a little.

Healing took time; Uraraka knew that. He would be out of bed soon, but he wouldn't be ready for combat-training for at least a few more weeks, while he dealt with the blowback from the overuse regarding his quirk. How he'd respond in class would determine how fit he was to resume regular activities with the rest of Class 1-A. In terms of the lessons, he was behind, but not overly so. He'd missed the internships, which he'd probably be able to make up during the summer break, and that had made up a relatively large portion of what he'd been out of commission for.

Once he was back up and running, she knew he'd be determine to catch up, willing to do whatever was necessary to make up the lost ground. But she'd have to keep an eye on him because of that, lest she want to discover he was overworking himself.

A sudden though popped into the gravity girl's mind, and as it appeared, she hesitated, before wrestling around with the question. It was no less personal than the question regarding what had happened... so maybe, he wouldn't mind...? Plus, it would only help his memory if he could recall everything.

On the downside, it wouldn't be good to overwhelm him... especially since he'd already answered a few difficult questions...

"I-is there something wrong?"

Shoot. He must have read her facial expressions, she realized.

She sighed. "I, uh, I wanted to know... I-is it true you were drugged...?"

He blinked. Once. Twice. A third time. Then...

"O-oh, yeah, I guess so. I don't... really remember it. They gave me some sort of 'medicine', but I felt my quirk kinda go... haywire. The weird part was... I could control it, for a change. It was like, I had full control, and I didn't blow up any of my limbs. That's... t-that's actually how I escaped," he admitted softly, rubbing at the curve of his bicep.

That must have been where he was injected, Uraraka pondered. Her mind lingered on the site for a few seconds, before she processed what Midoriya had said, and she began to gape.

"W-wait, really?!" For some reason, she was... kind of excited. Control over his quirk was a huge step... and the drug had done it! Did that mean he had retained control...? "H-how did it feel?!"

Midoriya put a finger to his chin. "I don't... really remember." She felt her spirits fall. How unfortunate... "But... the sensation... lingers. I can recall how it felt to control it... a-and, to be honest, I'm kind of scared to try it, but I think... it'll help."

A sudden vibration from her purse snapped the attention of both teenagers over to the source, before Uraraka groaned, knowing exactly what that buzzing meant. She wanted to scream. She'd finally gotten through to Deku, was talking to him like he was back to normal... and she was going to have to start all over tomorrow. She had to go home, otherwise she would have to walk through some rather dangerous areas... and while it seemed tempting, if it meant spending more time with him, she knew he wouldn't forgive himself if something happened to her.

Plus... a tiny part of her wondered if he'd remember anything.

He yawned, and she began feeling less guilty as fatigue spread across his face.

"I... I have to go now," Uraraka admitted quietly, looking down.

Midoriya blinked, and frowned. "Y-yeah, I figured... b-but it's okay, right? I mean... there's always next time you're here, r-right?"

Sadly, Uraraka smiled. "O-of course. I'll be back tomorrow..."

But you might not remember that.

"Then... I'll just w-wait for you, okay?"

This time, she smiled, and she couldn't help the joy that leaked into her grin. "Okay!"

And when she left to go home, she felt lighter than she had in weeks.

She'd return the next day, fear battling anxiously with hope, wringing her hands together as she slowly stepped into the confines of Recovery Girl's office, who shared a warm smile with her. The elderly nurse gave her a look that seemed unreadable, but smiled all-the-same, wordlessly sending her into the room.

And when she stepped in, for a second, she felt fear paralyze her mid-step as Midoriya looked at her, eyes foggy and distant, before a small smile cracked on his face.

"H-hey, Uraraka!"

There wasn't enough willpower in her body to keep her from smothering him in a thick embrace, fat tears rolling down her cheeks as she buried her face in his shoulder, ignoring his yelp of surprise. Because for the first time since he'd gone missing all those days ago, he was really back. He recognized her. He remembered her.

He was back.

Eleven days passed.

And on the twelfth, he remembered everything.

So how do you like that? It was a difficult chapter to write, because I remembered all the patients I've encountered who suffered from dementia or Alzheimer's, and that honestly made it all the harder to write, knowing how their families felt each day. I decided to incorporate that in, and I know that's not really how amnesia works (trust me, I know) but I just bent it so that it fit the mold.

Shower me with your hate if you must!

Anyways, there's only one chapter left, and it'll wrap everything up with a bow-tie. I know you might be surprised, but this was only meant to be 10 chapters originally. So yeah, it's coming to its end!

UPDATE! (1:37 AM on 4/19/18)

I have come to the decision to continue the story PAST the next chapter. After re-reading, and reviewing everything that has been put forward, plus the urging from several dedicated readers, I've decided to continue with the plot in mind. There's a lot of healing left to go around, and there's some ends that haven't been tied, so instead of rushing it and doing a general ending, we'll be doing a handful more chapters! Hopefully this doesn't make anyone angry ;)

Responses:

StarFiction56: Well, those were the guys that actually took him, haha. There's an underground syndicate I alluded to, and the next chapter will kind of hit at that, but mostly, but it might not be overly satisfying. I was debating with a sequel, but I don't know if I want to do that or not, in all honesty. We'll see how the reception is, and maybe it'll happen. His memory was a result of blunt trauma, much like regular-based amnesia. That, too, will be explored a bit in the last chapter. Thanks for you support thus far!

CoffeyJoe: Oh boy, you're kinda pushing me to write that little thing, huh? Haha. I planned on mentioning it without going in-depth, so we'll see, maybe if enough people want it, it'll happen!

Ender the multiverse Detective: Thank you!

HephaestusBuilds: Writing that chapter was rather difficult, because he's not exactly the kind of person to focus extensively on Midoriya's injuries, but yet, they're there in the back of his mind, and he also DOES kind of care. He doesn't know that he does, nor does he THINK he does, so it's all about finding that reasoning of why the hell does he? Hopefully this chapter met your expectations!

inFamousSlyMonkey: I know it's a weak trope, but I honestly figured that was the best way of things happening, especially since I couldn't rationally explain how they'd find them in the midst of the city. Bakugou, especially, wouldn't go on a vigilant hunt for people he didn't know know existed, so it fit the story in the best way - and served the irony I love having. But going off that, I think Bakugou is exactly the type of person to lie!

Anc1enT: The original draft saw him doing just that, but it felt a bit odd, so I twisted it EVER so slightly to give him a 'reason'. Haha.

Son Akito: I really, REALLY played with the concept of Midoriya remembering Bakugou first, but somehow, I never came out with an outcome I actually liked. They all felt, weird, to me. Bakugou wouldn't regularly visit, and when he did, I couldn't see it being a long, drawn out process. Plus, I wanted Uraraka to feel some sort of pain in constantly going in, and I figured having him remember Bakugou would be a BIT too much pain for her. Plus, I don't think he cares about Izuku ;) (but maybe he does...?) But I'm glad you enjoy it!

Dragon Courage: All in a day's work! I'm not terribly fond of Bakugou, but I admire his character like any other, and I aim to try and keep everyone within their assumed personalities.

Ireland Scott of BROH: Oh my... oh my... GOODNESS!

Chopper911: I'm pleased to have met your appreciate! Thank you!

Evakyl Nibelilt: The amount of time between chapters is typically a result of me playing the scene out in my head, and thinking, 'can I see the characters saying and doing what I write'? And if the answer is yes, it passes. If not... it's an entire re-write, which can be several days of writing scrapped, haha. This chapter was one of those chapters, admittedly.