It was hard to sleep knowing Toshinori was in the other room. Inko had a hard time centering her thoughts. She tossed and turned in bed, thinking about him, worrying about him, wondering who he was.

Why hasn't he told me his hero identity yet? Does he not trust me? Are we not friends yet?

No matter how hard she thought about it, she couldn't figure it out. Out of all the pro heroes she knew of, none of them looked anything like Toshinori, or even remotely matched his silhouette in their hero uniforms. She didn't know his quirk. She could only assume it was some kind of transformation quirk that changed his appearance entirely. It would be impossible to guess who he was in that case.

How is he even a hero when he is constantly sick? I saw the amount of medicine Izuku brought back. He's taking about eight different prescriptions. He looked absolutely horrible earlier and I'm still not entirely sure what even happened to him.

Eventually, Inko made a decision. She retrieved her phone from her bedside table and opened up a web search.

'gastrectomy information'

She started by reading about his condition. About the things he should and shouldn't eat. About the symptoms he would suffer if he ate the wrong things. About how to better care for someone in his state. But she quickly remembered that having no stomach wasn't his only problem. His lungs were damaged. He had several missing ribs, so she could only guess there was more wrong with his internal organs than he had told her or Izuku. The poor man has been completely messed up inside by his injury. Satisfied with her research, she made another search.

'pro heroes in japan with chronic injuries'

Most of the information that was available was just journalist speculation. It didn't surprise her that pro heroes wouldn't make their injuries so public. Not only would it put a target on their backs for villains to take advantage of, but it would be bad for their public image, too. People needed to have faith in their heroes. They needed to feel safe around them. They didn't need to feel like their hero needed protecting.

'toshinori yagi'

She learned his last name from looking at his prescription bottles. But there was absolutely nothing on the man she knew of. There were a few people that shared a similar name that were clearly not him- coincidences. But no photos, no public information, no records of him at all. Was Toshinori even his real name? Or had everything about him been wiped off the Internet, either from government regulation or his own request?

'pro heroes from japan who studied in america'

There were just too many to narrow her search down, especially not knowing Toshinori's age or when he went abroad. Toshinori really didn't give her much to work with, so nothing she knew about him was helpful information for a web search. She ran her fingers through her hair, feeling frustrated, sinking her back into her pillows.

Then, she felt ashamed of herself.

What am I doing? I'm spying on this poor man. He has his reasons for keeping his identity a secret. I already know too much, he is so sick. If the public knew about that… then it puts him in danger.

She put her phone away and stared at the ceiling. There was one good thing that came from her spying, at least. She had a better idea of meals for him whenever she invited him to dinner. That way, at least she could keep this unfortunate incident from repeating itself. She couldn't help but to feel guilty that her cooking made him ill.

I wonder if Toshi is awake.

She slid her feet to the floor, adjusted her night clothes, and carefully opened her door. She stepped into the hall and made her way to the living room, trying to peek at her guest. At first glance, he looked like he was asleep. He was lying on his back, one of his hands draped limply over his face. He was too tall to fit on the couch completely, so his feet were dangling over the edge. His blankets were all tangled up around his chest and legs.

She didn't know what possessed her. She stepped forward, took the corner of his blanket, and tugged it up over his feet.

"Inko?"

Inko jumped. She looked down at Toshinori's face. He was peeking at her between his fingers. It was so dark in the house, but his eyes were vividly blue, like there was a light behind them.

"Oh- I'm sorry. I didn't know you were awake." She stepped away, embarrassed. What she had just done was far too intimate of a gesture for their current position. And Toshinori's face was too hard to read.

"Can't sleep?" He asked quietly.

Inko looked down. "There's a lot on my mind."

Toshinori pushed himself upright against the couch. He watched her tiredly for a moment. "Do you want to talk about it?"

She lowered her head. It's hard to talk about it because it's about you. She looked back at him after a moment. "I wanted to check on you. Are you feeling better?"

"A little." Toshinori replied with a lopsided smile. "I appreciate it, Inko."

She stood there for a moment, indecisive. The longer she stood here the more awkward this was. What did she come in here for? What did she want to tell him? What should she say?

Who are you, Toshinori?

"I was wondering if… if you wanted to watch a movie. One of those American movies that you like."

He looked like he wasn't expecting to hear that. His shoulders sagged a little and he rubbed the back of his neck. He clearly didn't know what to say. inko felt like a fool. This was stupid.

"I, uh. Okay. If you want to."

He agreed!

"I- oh! Okay! Great! Um. We can rent something online, stream it. I can cast it to the TV." She said quickly, trying not to look excited or surprised.

Inko retrieved her laptop from nearby and sat down on the opposite end of the couch, leaving a cushion of space between the two of them. While she searched for a movie rental website, Toshinori asked, "what kind of movies do you like?"

"Oh. Um. I like animated movies." Inko admitted with a laugh. "Studio Ghibli."

"Ever watched Pixar?"

"I've heard of them, but I haven't seen anything."

"We should watch Toy Story." Toshinori suggested. "It was their first film, and it's very good. It's my favorite from them."

"I'll try to find Japanese subs. My English isn't very good. You must be able to speak it well from living in America?" She asked as she searched for the movie.

"I can, but I have been told that my accent is too strong." He laughed.

She bought the film and started casting it to the TV screen. She kept the audio low as to not disturb Izuku. Soon, she was leaning back and watching the joys of early 90s computer animation. Bright, colorful, somewhat awkwardly rendered, but charming. She was enjoying it.

She just wished there wasn't all this distance between her and Toshinori. Part of her wanted him to scooch closer. To take up that empty cushion between them. But he never did. And she didn't either.

They enjoyed the movie in relative silence. At one point she got up to make them some tea, but otherwise did very little. She liked the movie. She liked the characters. And the message was good. But she did find it hard to fully enjoy it while her mind was so full of worries about Toshinori. When the film was over, she smiled over at him. "I really loved that. Thanks for showing it to me, Toshi."

He smiled back tiredly. "I'm glad."

She looked down at her empty teacup. She still felt an emptiness between her and Toshinori, and it wasn't just because they were seated at opposite ends of the couch.

"I can't help but to relate a little to Woody," Inko admitted, winding her finger around a lock of her hair. "He had such a hard time feeling like he was being upstaged by someone else… like he wasn't going to be loved anymore like he used to be." She realized, after she said it, how it would have come across. Her heart skipped a beat and she wanted to disappear. She wanted to backpedal and quickly clarify 'I didn't mean it like that' and go on and on about how she liked the philosophy of the film, the character development, and how cleanly it all resolved in the end.

"Your ex husband. Hisaishi, was it?" Toshinori began, interrupting her before she could find a way to explain herself. Her face was burning. She said nothing, so he continued. "He left you for someone else?"

"I think so. He just. Disappeared and stopped speaking to me."

"Was he the one that made you hate your quirk?"

Inko swallowed. She nodded. "I sometimes think… if I had a more powerful quirk or if I was pretty, he wouldn't have left." She couldn't look at Toshinori when she said it. It was just too hard. "Sometimes he made me feel like I just wasn't good enough for him. He started getting... really distant with me, especially after Izuku was born. We stopped talking as much. He started ignoring me. And then he was just... gone."

Toshinori didn't say anything. Inko squeezed her eyes shut. He was probably feeling so awkward, trying to find a polite way out of this conversation.

"That's unforgivable of him."

His voice was dangerously soft. Fierce.

She looked at his face. He was staring at the black TV screen, his brows furrowed, his jaw set. His scrawny fingers were clenching his knees. Not once did he glance in her direction as he spoke.

"Inko, you are worth more than that. Don't let him rule how you feel about yourself. Your quirk is amazing, and you are very pretty. He was cruel and wrong to leave you and such a wonderful boy all alone."

He called me pretty.

To hear those words from another person after so many years, it was like pouring boiling water in a frozen lake. The ice in her eyes cracked. The tears came before she could stop them. She smacked one off her cheek as it fell. She felt so confused. She turned away so he couldn't see her miserable face. I forced him to say it. I made him feel like he had to comfort me. I don't know if he really meant it. But he said it. He really said it. But he's just a tender hearted man, that's all.

"Toshi, I'm s-"

"Are you about to apologize?"

She sniffed thickly and nodded.

"Don't. You're allowed to feel what you're going through. I'm not sitting here judging you or thinking you're weak. And you aren't inconveniencing me." He looked at her when he said it. His voice was so gentle. So soothing. It was hard not to believe him. He was being genuine. Everything he said, he really meant it.

She couldn't hold her tears back anymore. She curled inward, her arms wrapping around her sides, sobbing quietly. She felt the weight on the couch shift. He closed the distance between them. She felt the bones of his arms tighten over her shoulders. His large hands cupping against her arms. His sharp chin on the top of her head. She could feel the ridges of his ribs beneath his shirt.

This man.

He didn't smell great. Like sweat and poorly laundered fabric. But she buried her face against his shoulder and breathed deeply against him.

This sweet, lonely, sick, gentle man. Who I have watched suffer. Who I have watched nurture my son as if he was his own. Who I know almost nothing about.

She could feel his hair tickling her face, his bangs too long and uncombed, frayed at the ends.

I'm falling for him.

She hadn't seen it coming, but she realized it in that moment. Maybe it was just because he was the first man to ever get close to her since Hisaishi left. Maybe he didn't feel the same. Maybe she just felt this way because she was lonely. But she couldn't deny it: in that moment, she wanted to kiss Toshinori.

She didn't.

Toshinori held her until all her tears had dried, until she was wiping at her eyes and catching her breath. He hadn't said a word. He just held her until she could breathe and think again.

But she didn't kiss him, and he didn't kiss her. And when he was sure she was feeling better, he patted her back and released her. "You can talk to me anytime. If something is bothering you. Okay?" He opened the doors to further discussion. This wasn't just a favor he was doing for her in the moment. He wanted her to feel better about her future. He was kind. Truly, genuinely kind.

"Y-yeah. I will. Thank you." She said, giving him a watery smile. He gave her a cheerful thumbs up in response. She noticed that he liked to do that. It helped her feel at ease. She stood from the couch. "I… I think. I should be able to sleep now. With what's left of the night." She chuckled, though her heart still felt strangely heavy.

"Yeah. Me too."

"Goodnight, Toshi."

When she woke the next morning, intent on making breakfast for her guest, Toshinori was gone.

The sheets and blankets were folded neatly. The teacups from last night were washed and put away. There was no other trace that he was ever there.

She proceeded to make breakfast for herself and Izuku, but the spot that Toshinori left behind made her feel empty. She wished he was still here, so he could have spent more time with her family. Feeling like family.

"Were you watching a movie last night?" Izuku asked as he tucked in to breakfast.

"Oh, did we wake you?"

"I barely heard it."

"We couldn't sleep."

Utensils clinked. Inko stared at her bowl, wondering what was going through Izuku's mind, while barely understanding what was going through her own. But he didn't ask any questions, and she didn't tell him anything.

Izuku finished eating and took his bowl to the sink. "I'm off to the beach!" He said. "Are you coming later? To work on your quirk?"

She was snapped out of her thoughts. She had almost forgotten that she promised Toshinori that. So she would see him again today after all. For once, she felt excited about going to that dump of a beach with Izuku.

"Yeah, I'll be there after work."