"How did your project go, Izuku?" his mother asks as she steps into the living room. She's just gotten off work.

"It went well," Izuku replies from his spot on the couch. He had left U.A. earlier that day but had come home instead of finishing what was left of the school day. His mother doesn't need to know that though. For once, he's thankful he doesn't have any friends. No one will call or stop by to check in on him or give him missed work.

"That's good. I'll go ahead and get started on dinner, then. What would you like?"

"Anything's fine," Izuku shrugs. "I'm not too picky."

His mother nods and heads into the kitchen to prep whatever it is she's decided on. Izuku listens to the sounds of her washing and cutting vegetables. The repetition is therapeutic.

When they sit together for dinner, Izuku makes an effort to eat even though he isn't hungry. He pushes the remaining food around on his plate to make it seem like he's eaten more than he had. They hadn't given him anything at U.A., but he hadn't asked for anything either. He's sure if he had asked, they would've found something. They are heroes, after all.

Once Izuku's eaten half of his meal he excuses himself to his room with the excuse of schoolwork to do. His mother looks between his plate and his eyes, but if she has any concerns, she doesn't voice them. She nods and he leaves the table in favor of his room.

He purposely avoids eye contact with all of the All Might memorabilia in his room. It's a feat in and of itself. Considering his room is filled to the brim with his favorite hero. Izuku can't handle the weight of those sharp blue eyes on him, even if they aren't real. He doesn't deserve to be in the presence of the symbol of Peace. If they ever met, Izuku knows the pro hero would be disappointed in him.

Izuku doesn't blame him, he can't even decide what he wants.

That's not to say that he wants to die. He loves his mom and Kacchan, even if the ever-distant boy doesn't share the sentiment anymore. He also enjoys his hero analysis. All of these things are temporary, though. Eventually, Kacchan will go to U.A. without him, severing whatever relationship they have left. Eventually, Izuku will leave his mother when he moves out. He's already decided to stop his hero analysis now that he's accepted the fact that he'll never become a pro.

Once all of these things are gone, Izuku will have nothing left. He'll go to a dead-end job every day only to come home to an empty house. Izuku already knows what loneliness feels like, how it hurts, and he doesn't want to imagine it getting worse. So, in order to save him all that pain in the long-run, his choice seems clear.

Sure, he regretted his decision when he fell, but that's natural. Everyone fears death. Izuku won't let that one moment of weakness change his mind. He's doing everyone a favor, even the pros. After all, he doesn't have a quirk. He's weak. If he ever gets caught up in a Villain attack, he won't be able to do anything. He'll just be in the way, and he refuses to be something that can be used against the heroes. He would rather die than be the reason a villain wins.

So, no, Izuku doesn't want to die, but it's the best course of action for everyone involved. Everyone benefits in the long-run. Izuku's willing to be that sacrifice. That's what heroes do, isn't it? He might not be one, but that doesn't mean he can't act like one.

With his mind made, Izuku turns the lights off and slips into his bed. It's still early, but he's exhausted and his chest is beginning to hurt. He debates on grabbing a bag of ice from the kitchen before he goes to sleep but his mom is probably still cleaning dishes. She'll ask questions he doesn't have answers to.

Despite being tired, sleep eludes him for hours. He's plagued by thoughts of his mom finding out about what happened Wednesday and not being upset about it, about her being more upset that he was saved than that he tried to jump in the first place. He fears Kacchan learning about it and offering to help him do the deed. Then Izuku wonders about what would happen if he did talk to Kacchan about it.

His childhood friend would probably laugh at him and say good riddance. He would have yet another reason to call him weak. This much Izuku knows, but what would he say if Izuku were to ask for his help? Kacchan does hate him after all, and it was his idea to begin with. He knows what it's like to be on the receiving end of his quirk. It would hurt, Izuku knows from experience, but he doesn't think it'd be enough to kill him in one hit. Izuku wants something quick. Something easy.

Not only that, but Izuku knows that Kacchan is a good person. He may not act like it, but that's just a face he puts on. Kacchan wants to be a hero. He wants to be just like All Might, and between the two of them, he has the biggest chance of actually doing it. Izuku is haunted by these thoughts until dawn. He's not sure when exactly he drifts off, but he wakes to his mom gently shaking him.

"Izuku, you're going to be late for school if you don't get up." He's so groggy that it takes a few moments for the words to penetrate his mind. When he makes no immediate move to get up, Inko frowns. "Do you feel alright, Izuku? You don't seem to have a fever, but you didn't eat much last night and you look worn out."

Izuku sees the scenario as the escape that it is. If he can pretend to be sick, then his mother won't question his absence from school. He's not ready to face anyone he knows yet. "Sorry, Mom. My stomach's been hurting." More like his ribs, but it's not a complete lie.

His mom smiles and laughs softly. "Don't apologize Izuku! I have to go to work soon, will you be alright on your own? And what about your project, isn't that due today?"

Izuku tries to do the math in his head. Eraserhead stopped him Wednesday, he came home yesterday, which was Thursday, which makes today Friday. Was that when he told her his project was due? Is this a trick question? Does she know? He can't remember, but it won't matter in the end. "Yeah, my partner has it. I'll text him later."

"Okay. Don't hesitate to call me if you need anything, okay?"

Izuku nods. Inko kisses her son's head before she stands and leaves his room. He watches her leave and is overwrought with grief for lying. Now she'll spend her whole day worrying over him. Can he not do anything right?

He continues to lay in bed for several hours, trying to catch up on sleep while he has the chance, but it still eludes him. This is the second day he's missed school in a row. It's the first time Izuku's ever skipped and he's surprised that it's as easy as it is. He wonders if Kacchan's noticed yet. Probably. After all, who else was going to be his punching bag? Is Kacchan worried about him? Probably not.

It's well after noon by the time Izuku drags himself from the bed, no real plan in mind. His ribs shift around as he sets up and he decides that now is as good a time as any to ice them. He might even grab a snack while he's there too. It'll be at least another few hours until his mom gets home from work, so he has options.

The ice is as cold and sharp as he remembers. He pulls off the jacket that he's been wearing since Wednesday. Once this is done, he's going to take a nice long bath. As Izuku's about to put a towel over himself, he notices deep purple splotches spanning across his torso. He prods one out of curiosity but is quick to pull his fingers back at the sting it elicits. Not wanting to look at them anymore, he finally covers himself with the towel and ice. They're just a reminder of what's happened.

He turns on the tv and flips through the channels. When he catches a brief glimpse of All Might's face, he quickly backpedals until he finds the right station. It's the local news of the anchor speaking with the symbol of Peace.

"All Might, we're so glad to have a moment of your time! What brings you to Musutafu?"The woman asks as she points a microphone in the hero's face.

"What a plus-ultra question! I've tracked a villain I've been perusing here, but do not worry citizens," All Might smiles at the camera as he gives it a thumbs-up, "for I am here!"

Izuku can't help his mind racing. A villain, here, in Musutafu? For All Might to tail them himself, they must be a big player. Well, that's not quite right. All Might goes after almost any and all criminals he comes across. But who would be able to actually evade the number one hero? He could have some sort of stealth quirk that works well for escape. That could also be why no one has reported any sightings.

When he realizes he's rambling, Izuku bites his lips shut and turns off the television. The resounding silence is heavy but not unwelcome. For the first time in a while, Izuku lets his mind stay blank, soaking in the bliss of nothingness. Once another ten minutes pass, he clears away the ice and heads to the bathroom. It's time to cash in on that bath he'd promised himself. What he'll do afterward is still up for debate.

Stripping off the rest of his clothes, he fills the tub with water just below scalding. Izuku forces his eyes away from the splotches on his skin until he settles into the water. He goes through the motions of cleaning his body and hair. The feeling of the oil buildup washing off is refreshing in a way he isn't expecting.

Izuku turns onto his side with his arm under his head. The water of the bath rests along his jawline enough for his ear to be submerged. The gentle sway of the hot water lulls Izuku to a sense of calmness. He contemplates just slipping under the surface and letting nature take its course. It would be quick and easy, relatively painless. It'd be like falling asleep. He closes his eyes and begins to sink.

For a moment, the world is silent. There's the familiar thump in his ears of his heart. Despite the situation, it's calm and steady. His body moves with the water, is enveloped by it. It's a cocoon of warmth he doesn't want to leave. An itch creeps into his lungs that settles into a burn. At first, it's similar to the ache of an overworked muscle, but it quickly escalates into the sensation of the sun boiling him alive. So, not painless, then.

It doesn't matter, just a few more moments, and then he'll finally have bliss. If his eyes were open, he knows there would be black spots dancing across his vision. The thumping of his heart has been replaced by ringing. Loud, cacophonous ringing that sounds like the school's marching band has invited themselves into his head. Are his ears bleeding? They feel like they are. Or maybe that's just the feeling of life leaving his body. He's strangely numb now. Cotton is making his mind distant, unattached. He finally gives in to the pain and takes in a lungful of water.

The last-minute thought of his mother is what forces Izuku to resurface. He hacks and sputters and chokes. The water leaves his body but he still feels like he's drowning. His body is trembling and jerking, heaving and twitching. Izuku turns and vomits into the toilet next to the bath. He feels last night's dinner clawing its way out of his stomach and mouth. The burning in his chest spreads to his throat and gums. Even after his stomach is empty, his body continues to rebel and convulse. Liquids are pouring out of him from his nose, his lips, his ears. Izuku wouldn't be surprised if he's pissed himself at some point as well.

Pulling himself out of the water was a miserable decision, but one that's he's glad he made. If he hadn't, then his mother would be the one to find him in the bathtub when she got home from work. She'll call to him from the doorway as she walks in, and then check for him in his bedroom. When she finds it empty, then she'll notice that the light in the bathroom is on. She'll knock on the door and frown when she doesn't get an answer. Her knocking will become frantic, her calls wrought with worry. Then she'll use her quirk to open the door from the inside. She'll rush in, and she'll find Izuku.

It'll look like he just fell asleep in the water and accidentally drowned. Then his mother will blame herself for leaving for work. She'll blame herself for not staying to keep an eye on her only son. It's something that she will never forgive herself for. He can't do that to her, he won't. That's the only thing he cares about anymore.

Perhaps he should write a note after all. Izuku had decided against it the first time because he didn't want to make anything harder than it needed to be. He thinks about his regrets when he fell off the roof about not telling his mom how much he loves her. Perhaps if he wrote something down, he wouldn't feel like that. Would he write one in general or notes for specific people?

Not writing one just for his mother feels wrong. After everything they've been through, he feels like it will be cheating her out of all the things she deserves. He wishes he could do more for her - he could be more for her. The overwhelming rush of inadequacy flattens him back into the water. He doesn't try to hold back the tears. The pain grounds him, keeps his mind focused.

It isn't until the water turns cold that Izuku leaves the tub. He doesn't bother drying himself, instead, he pulls an oversized shirt and boxers over damp skin. The fabric clings to his wet body like an embrace that Izuku so desperately needs. The inside of his mouth is acidic, but he's already in his room and the trip back to the bathroom for his toothbrush seems ten miles long. His bed calls out to him for rest, but Izuku refuses the temptation in favor of his desk. Inside the top right drawer is a brand new notebook. He had been planning on starting his fifteenth analysis, but now he feels that it has a better purpose.

Izuku feels strangely empty as he pulls the notebook out and lays it on the desk. He isn't quite recovered from his moments under the water, his mind still foggy. The tear-tracks on his face are chilled by the air against his heated skin. He doesn't know when the waterworks stopped, nor does he know why, he doesn't feel any better.

Izuku really doesn't feel anything at all.

The paper is cool under his fingertips as he opens the notebook. He smooths out the pristine paper with one hand as he grabs a pen with the other. When he writes in his notebooks, the words come easily. Theories and ideas flow out of him faster than he can physically write them down. But now, in the quietness of the apartment, ideas don't come to him. His heart and mind are just as heavy as his body. Now he understands why people don't leave notes. What could he possibly say? It feels like he'll need years to explain the turmoil swirling around his existence, the pain that simply living causes him.

Closing the notebook with a sigh, he finally gives in to the calls from his bed. The cool sheets are so drastically different from the hot water that his brain confuses itself even more. Izuku's exhausted, body and soul. He wants the sheets to swallow him whole. He wants to sink into the mattress and never come back. The pillow under his head is tempting, another way out, but he doesn't have the energy. Even thinking becomes too much of an effort.

Izuku waits for sleep to claim him, but it never does. His fatigue is so overwhelming that he begins to cry again. He just wants rest, he just wants to shut his mind down for five minutes, he just wants peace. Slowly, the tears stop for no reason. Probably because his body can no longer put forth the effort required. He finally begins to doze when he hears the sound of the front door opening.

It's not really sleeping, but he's not fully awake either. There are snippets he's aware of as he stays in bed until the next afternoon. His mother comes in to check on him at some point. She sits at the edge of his bed as she runs her hand through his curls. The sun sets and rises again. She comes back in the morning, this time with a warm cloth against his face. He probably smells awful. She offers him food at some point, but he declines by shaking his head. His voice is completely shot from disuse, crying, and then throwing up.

Izuku finally wakes up to sunlight in his eyes and the violent thrumming of his whole upper body. Retching had probably made his injuries worse. He wonders if he should go back to a doctor, but that means having to tell someone about what's happened and that's not a conversation he looks forward to having with anyone. The sunlight is too bright to ignore, so he eventually pulls himself out of bed. He glances at the clock next to his bed to see that it's almost two.

The small amount of rest he was able to get gives him the drive to go to the bathroom and actually clean himself up. Izuku slips on a pair of pants, brushes his teeth, combs his hair, and washes his face. The dark bags under his eyes lessen but are still prominent. Leaning over the sink causes the pain in his chest to double under the strain. He wants to lay down, but Izuku is restless. The itch to leave the apartment crawls up his spine. He needs space, air.

His mother is in the living room watching tv when he looks for her. Some new romance drama is playing, but when she notices his presence, she quickly changes the channel. She blushes and fumbles over her words, but he hears something along the lines of "Izuku, what are you doing up? I thought you were still sleeping!"

Izuku smiles sheepishly and rubs the back of his neck. "I know it sounds silly, but I'm tired of sleeping. I think I'm going to go for a walk, get some fresh air."

"Oh," Inko says as she calms down. She eyes him warily. "Are you sure? Or, are you hungry? I made some sandwiches for lunch, I can get one out for you."

He shakes his head softly. "No, that's okay, but thanks."

She doesn't say any more, so Izuku takes that as his cue to leave. He slips on his red sneakers and makes sure he has his phone on him. When he pulls open the front door, his mother calls out to him. He turns around and sees her with a small smile on her face.

"Be careful, I love you."

Izuku's throat closes, but he forces the words out anyway. "I love you too, Mom." He quickly steps out and shuts the door before he does something he'll regret, like something as stupid as crying.

The route he takes is random. He lets his feet choose the way as his mind shuts itself off. He needs to go somewhere, he needs air. Izuku just needs time to stop for five seconds so that he can catch up. The world blurs around him in a rush as he picks up the pace. This is too much. Existing is too much.

When the sounds pick up volume around him, Izuku notices that he's come to the new shopping outlet that was built last summer. He hasn't had a chance to come yet, but he overhears classmates at school talking about it constantly. Even though he knew it was the largest center in Musutafu, he's not prepared for the sheer vastness of it. There must be over a hundred different stores and it's no surprise how packed it is considering it's a Saturday afternoon.

Izuku finds the crowds comforting. Among the throng of people, he's just another face in the crowd, another bystander. All of the bodies weave around each other like clockwork. Izuku walks to walk, glancing at the different options. There's a store dedicated to almost anything, books, shoes, hoodies, athletic wear, hero merchandise. He's drawn to the last one, but he only has his phone on him and he's not going to do that to himself.

Continuing to walk aimlessly, he thinks he hears someone call out to him, but he chalks it up to his imagination. When he hears it again, Izuku tries to look around for a classmate. There are so many people that the action is fruitless. He once again gives up and takes a seat on the edge of a nearby fountain.

"Young Midoriya!"

This time when he looks, the tangles of yellow hair are unmistakable. Yagi waves at him from among a crowd of teenagers. Yes, the man is tall, but Izuku is surprised that Yagi could even see him from all the way over there. Instead of the yellow suit, the man is now wearing a plain white t-shirt and green cargo pants, both of which are still way too big on his thin frame. When Yagi catches up to him, Izuku can clearly tell the man is out of breath.

"Ah, young Midoriya, what a coincidence. Are you feeling better?" he asks.

There's something about zombie before him that makes Izuku want to lay himself bare. For some reason, he doesn't want to pretend anymore. Yagi seems like someone who understands what it means to have to deal with others. "They hurt, but, um, that's to be expected. And you? Did you ever get to see... Recovery Girl? Is that right?"

Yagi smiles and nods. "Yes, she came back a few hours after you left. You could probably go back to see her now, if you wanted."

"That's okay. You have to be a student to get in and well, to be honest, it's a little intimidating there with all those heroes... Anyways, what are you doing here?" Izuku asks.

As if suddenly remembering something important, Yagi's whole demeanor lights up. "Oh, yes. I... err, saw someone I thought I knew, and I came to see if I could find them."

"Are you old friends?"

Yagi nods. "Something like that."

"Do you," Izuku bites his lip, not sure if he wants to ask the question, "do you want some help?"

Yagi opens his mouth to respond, but a loud explosion interrupts him. Izuku turns to see a large cloud of smoke billow up from one of the shops. People are screaming and running in the opposite direction. He and Yagi look at each other before they both head for the source of the destruction. They have to fight against the crowd, pushing and shoving against the uproar.

The explosion came from a jewelry store. There are civilians on the ground, shards of glass and debris in their bodies. Izuku watches in horror as a villain emerges from the dilapidated building. He's a dark green glob of... something, and when Izuku looks closer, he can see that there's a little girl trapped in his body. She's fighting against him, but it looks like she can't breathe. She's going to suffocate if no one does anything.

There are no pro heroes around, the blast being so recent. It's impossible to try and predict when one will show up. Izuku's always watched villain and hero battles on tv or online, but he's never had to face one himself. There are always heroes, there has to be. Otherwise, who's going to save that little girl? Izuku turns to look at the only adult he knows.

Yagi is staring intensely at the scene, especially the villain. Izuku can tell by the way his jaw is clenched that he's just as distraught as he is. Izuku wants Yagi to do something, but the man looks like a strong breeze could blow him over at any moment. No, he can't do anything either.

Izuku watches with bated breath as the girl's struggles weaken. They're losing time. Where are the pros? Surely someone has to be coming. Someone has to do something. Izuku's breath is fast and his heart is racing, blood is rushing in his ears. Before he knows it, he's running. He can't stop himself. He doesn't have a quirk, or any kind of weapon, but maybe he can slow down the villains enough for a hero to show up, or a side kick at least. Izuku's been looking for a way out anyway, and if he can save this little girl on the way, well, there's nothing stopping him now.

He shouts something at the villain when he finally reaches him. It catches him – her? – off guard. Izuku's first instinct is to claw at the goo until he can dig the girl out, but when his hands just slide through the substance, he knows it's pointless. Quickly changing tactics, he shoves his hand in and grabs the girl's arm. She's still awake, barely, watching him with half-lidded eyes. Despite the terror running through his body and the agony in his chest, he's smiling. He doesn't want her to be scared.

"It's okay, I've got you. The heroes are on their way. Don't be scared, okay?"

Miraculously, the girl seems to understand, and she nods at him. He tries to pull her out, but is horrified to find that instead of pulling away, he's being dragged in. The villain is talking, yelling at him, but Izuku's ears are ringing.

He yanks his arm as hard as he can. Any more and he'll probably jerk it out of his socket. It's not working, nothing is working. The villain's body is encompassing his own, already surrounding his head. Izuku can't breathe with the goo in his nose and throat. He's going to die here, and he's not even going to have that little girl's life to show for it.

"TEXAS SMASH!"

Suddenly, the villain is being blown backward by a burst of powerful air. Somehow, Izuku manages to keep ahold of the girl's hand. Izuku knows that voice, he knows that attack. He looks behind him, and to both his relief and astonishment, All Might – the number one hero and the Symbol of Peace – is standing behind him. All of the photos Izuku's ever seen of him don't do him justice. All Might is huge in person, he must be over seven-feet-tall at least, and he's built like a train. There isn't a single blond hair out of place. He's smiling. Of course he's smiling, he's never afraid.

The force of All Might's attack is so strong that it literally forces the villain's body to fall apart and splatter. Izuku wraps his arms around the little girl and tugs her away, both of them falling to the ground in the process. They're both coughing and spluttering. He feels like no matter how hard he tries; he can't take a deep enough breath. The girl seems okay, she's still conscious, and Izuku has never been happier. He looks behind him for All Might, to thank him and maybe even talk to him - get an autograph if he's really lucky - but the hero is gone. As quickly as he came, he vanished. Izuku finally hears the sirens of police cars in the distance as his eyes land on Yagi in the crowd, blood dripping down his chin from the corner of his mouth.

At first, Izuku is worried, but then he realizes that Yagi probably over-stressed himself. After all, he wasn't close enough to the fight to actually be injured. The man perpetually looks like death has claimed him, so Izuku wouldn't be surprised if he had some underlying condition that was worsened by the stress of the villain's attack. Maybe Cystic Fibrosis? That causes people to cough up blood, doesn't it? In any case, Izuku is sure the smoke isn't helping.

When the paramedics arrive, he all but shoves the sobbing girl in their arms. She has years of victim-hostage therapy in front of her, of that Izuku has no doubt. The EMTs try to treat him as well, but he waves them off. Now that he isn't gasping for breath, the pain in his chest has reduced to sharp throbbing. That doesn't mean, however, that his heart has stopped pounding, or his ears have stopped ringing.

When he locks eyes with Yagi again, the man's gaze on him is calculating. Izuku stands up and makes his way over, knowing that he's about to get an earful. His legs are wobbly when he first stands up now that he doesn't have adrenaline coursing through his veins anymore. He regains his footing as he crosses the distance between them.

Izuku begins to speak but is quickly cut off, "Are you alr—"

"Come with me, young man." Yagi's tone is one that leaves no room for argument, but it's not dangerous or threatening. Although he's always been told to never follow strangers alone, especially old men, Izuku does exactly what Yagi tells him as he begins to walk away. He's sure that Yagi is just going to yell and chastise him someplace more private.

Their walk is longer than Izuku expects. He grows more curious as they pass restaurants and cafes, all of which offer them adequate seclusion, but Izuku doesn't stop following Yagi. When they suspiciously walk towards the location of his apartment building, Izuku convinces himself that Yagi knows where he lives and is going to rat everything that's happened in the past several days out to his mother. They pass his neighborhood too and Izuku releases a breath he didn't realize he was holding.

Yagi finally stops and Izuku nearly runs into him. He looks around and realizes they're at the beach. Well, it's more like a dump now. Izuku remembers playing in the water with Kacchan when they were little, pretending that they had aquatic quirks. They would splash each other and see how long they could hold their breath. Unfortunately, the nearby currents swept trash onto the shore. Residents tried to keep it clean, but they began to leave their own trash there as well. What was once a beautiful landscape is now covered in enormous piles of garbage.

Yagi makes his way over to one said pile and sits on a discarded washing machine. Izuku remains standing until Yagi gestures to an upright tire that Izuku climbs on top of. They're sitting only an arm's length away, facing each other. For a moment, the two of them just sit there, staring at each other.

The older man is the one who breaks the silence, "I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

Of all the things Izuku expected to come out of Yagi's mouth, that was nowhere on the list. Heat rises to Izuku's face as he stutters, "W-what?" Maybe he should have listened to everyone's advice after all.

Yagi seems to realize the implications of his words when his face reddens. He waves his twig-like arms in front of him. "No! That's not what I – look, I meant your chest – no," Yagi coughs into his hand to gather himself. "I mean, your injuries."

"Oh." The shift in the air over their conversation is almost palpable. At first, it was a hesitant curiosity, then it all went to shit with Yagi's comment, and now... the atmosphere is raw. In the aftermath of the villain's attack, both of them fighting their own demons, Izuku finds himself feeling laid bare before Yagi once again.

This is the reason Izuku grabs the hem of his oversized shirt. It's filthy now, covered in sweat, soot, and vague remnants of the villain. He doesn't take it off completely. Instead, Izuku lifts it up enough to show the swollen near-black bruises that litter his skin. Yagi looks at them for a few seconds before he reaches his arm out.

"May I?" Yagi asks.

Izuku nods and watches Yagi's hand lay over the injury. By the way the man holds himself and his overall demeanor, Izuku expects his hands to be rough, maybe even shaky. To his immense surprise and relief, Yagi's touch is gentle and steady. His hand is warm as he examines him and is even more careful than Dr. Himura had been. Izuku wonders if Yagi is a medical professional - or was.

"Thankfully, it doesn't look like you're any worse off than before." Izuku lowers his shirt once Yagi takes his hand away. Yagi sighs as he continues. "Well, a deal's a deal." Izuku doesn't know what deal he's talking about until the other man lifts his own white shirt.

A grotesque pit the size of a fist takes up Yagi's left torso, centered just under his ribs. The wound and surrounding skin are discolored a dark purple and are wrinkled. By the way it's sunken, Izuku can tell things are missing from Yagi's body. Burn-like tendrils from the center of the wound encompass the rest of his chest. Izuku doesn't bother trying to hide his gasp.

"Pretty gross, right?" Yagi asks, his tone too casual for talking about such a grievous wound. "Got it about five years back. My respiratory system was basically destroyed, and they had to remove my whole stomach. All the surgeries have worn me out, and it can't be fixed."

Izuku's mind is racing, calculating. A wound like that had to be caused by a villain, and a powerful one at that. If that's the case, though, that means that Yagi's a pro hero! Or was one, anyways. No wonder Izuku felt so calm around the other man. It also explains why he's so meddlesome. Yagi said the injury was five years old. Izuku wracks his brain to try and see if there were any huge fights that year. The only fight that comes to mind is All Might's fight with Toxic Chainsaw. So, when all's said and done, Izuku has no way to figure out which pro hero Yagi was. It's possible he was an underground hero, like Eraserhead is.

"When you asked me if I thought someone without a quirk could become a hero, this wound is why I told you that some villains are just too strong... but it doesn't just take strength to be a hero." Yagi's eyes narrow, his gaze piercing. He lets go of his shirt and the fabric falls back down, concealing the wound. "What you did today was reckless. Despite the fact that you had no hope of winning and you were – are – injured, you still rushed in to save that girl."

"There are stories about every hero, how they became great," he continues. "Most have one thing in common. Some might think it's strength or intelligence, but it's neither. Their bodies move before they have a chance to think, almost on their own. And today, that's what happened to you..." Yagi trails off for a moment.

Izuku doesn't know where the conversation is going, but he has a pro hero in front of him telling him what it is to be a hero, and that he has it. He thinks back to his mother, what she had said to him when they found out he was quirkless.

'I'm so sorry, Izuku... I wish things were different,' her voice had trembled as tears welled in her eyes. But that's not what he wanted or needed to hear from her. What he needed to hear was –

"Young man... you too, can become a hero."

For the second time, Yagimakes Izuku cry, but for an entirely different reason.