Deku

What I remember… is the light above my hospital bed.

It's like having a flashback to my first days in U.A., when I fainted and then woke up in Recovery Girl's office. But things were easier then, even with those injuries; they can't compare to the ones I have now.

I remember everything, and yet nothing in the least. All of it are sensations: the smell of smoke, the rubble under my feet, my arms hurting, my skin burning, my lungs struggling to breathe. And the danger, the feeling of my nerves stinging as a way to alert me of an imminent threat, making my skin so sensitive and tight that it hurts.

They won't stop. And it keeps hurting.

I focus on that pain, not trying to ease it, only to numb myself to it. I can't escape Danger-Sensing. Just like I can't escape being the last holder of One for All.

There are tasks set upon me, responsibilities I carry, and I can't run away from any of it. Nor by getting injured, nor by dying.

I can't die.

But I can't live either.

Not while I can't allow myself to feel, not when there are people I still need to save.

The doctors check on me, my friends too, everybody is happy that I'm awake, and I… I try to continue smiling for them, pretending that being awake hasn't become torture. I'm tired only from having my eyes open.

Everything comes and goes in a blur, by the time the visiting hours end, I don't remember if I spoke at all while everyone was here, but all of them seem way too absorbed in their peaceful relief to notice it.

It's better that way, fewer questions to answer.

The silence afterward is strange; I do my best to quieten my thoughts as well. There is too much to think and it triggers too many emotions. I can't handle them on top of everything that's happening. I know that if I want to become numb I shouldn't run away from more pain and more sadness… but I… I… I'm not strong enough.

Not yet.

"I'm telling you to let me in!" I hear outside. "I want to punch that bastard's face for making me worried sick!"

"Kacchan?"

I push myself up from the bed as I can. (It's unbelievably difficult when both of your arms are wrecked!) And, in the same way, I try to open the door of my room somehow, (I'm actually surprised that I manage to do so). Kacchan is literally baring his teeth at the doctors.

"Kacchan!"

He doesn't even freeze once he hears me say his name, his head turns towards my voice so quickly I can barely see the movement. His eyes are wide open and for once they are not angry, nor are they blank, they are… soft.

"Deku."

It's odd that suddenly the roles are reversed like this and I am the one yelling his name while mine comes out of his mouth so easily. Although, it doesn't look like it was easy for him to say it; his body is rigid, it looks like saying my name was a gut-reaction, something he couldn't stop himself from doing.

We stare at each other across the hallway. Until I notice the doctors are still looking at us and blocking his way.

"I… uh… let him in," I request, hurriedly. "He is a friend; I want to talk to him."

I don't know what it was that Kacchan said to the doctors before I peeked outside, but they seem very eager to let him in and go.

He enters my room once they get out of his way, he also closes the door since my arms are the ones that are casted; after that, we stare at each other again. Until we look down at the floor. I know I said the silence from earlier was strange, but this is…

I remember the time when I thought I would never have a normal conversation with Kacchan, and now I can't seem to bear not talking to him.

"I… uh…"

"We don't have to talk," he cuts me off.

"We don't?"

"No," he assures. He ruffles his hair more than it already is. "Ah… Are your arms going to be okay?"

"Oh. Yes. The doctors said they'll fully heal after a few months."

"Cool, cool."

We return to the silence.

"Uh…" I start, "Kacchan… I appreciate that you shielded me from– "

"I said we don't need to talk," he crosses me again.

Oh.

I see…

A small smile makes a dip in my cheek.

Bakugou

Why the hell is he smiling? I didn't say anything for him to smile! Stop smiling, god-motherfucking-dammit!

It's not like I care – I mean, I do… I mean, I don't!

Ugh! Why did I have to start caring about him all of a sudden? Life was so much easier when I hated him! And of all the people I could possibly come to care about, why did it have to be Deku? It's not fair that it is him after everything that has happened! All those years of me being a fuckhead, and then U.A., and now this!... It isn't fucking fair!

Anyway.

What I meant is that I don't care about whatever he is smiling for, what I care about is that he is alive, in one piece (barely, but enough), and not in Shigaraki's or All For One claws. I'll explode those losers with my own hands another day.

Still, I don't like not knowing whatever is going on in Deku's crazy brain. "What the hell are you smiling for?"

He shrugs. "Nothing. Nothing at all," he says, "You mind if we sit? I'm still a little weakened for being asleep for so long."

I shrug back. "Sure."

We sit at the edge of his bed one next to each other, the silence is still off, but I don't mind. Not much. There are certain things… that I don't feel like talking about yet.

I think Deku might have a fever on top of the broken arms, his skin is hot; I can feel it because our arms are brushing.

"So… what are we gonna do with Shigaraki now?" I ask. (Because I need answers, damnit! I hate that we are just here doing nothing!)

"I don't know," Deku sighs, "I don't think Shigaraki is the one we should be worrying about."

"You said what now?"

Is he crazy? Did he hit his head? It probably happened after Shigaraki shot me. That bastard!

"I think…" Deku sighs again, this time heavier and throaty. Resigned. "It's a long story."

"I have time."

Deku's eyes become shinier whenever he is in one of his 'deep-in-thought' nerd moods. They start shining now, but they're only few, small spots of light while the rest of his eyes turn a darker shade. Darker than what I have ever seen them before.

He lets himself fall back to lay on the bed. (Like he was exhausted after sleeping for days.) I follow and lie down next to him.

"I think All For One took over Shigaraki," he blurts out.

I turn to stare at him. His eyes are still growing darker, so much that they're eating away the reflection of the room's light as he looks at the ceiling.

"What?" I ask.

"I think…" he trails off, his eyes ultimately becoming the color of a creepy abandoned forest, "that All For One is our biggest threat. And he is using Shigaraki to get to me. He is using everyone. He won't stop."

"What are we gonna do about him then?"

"I don't know," he says once more, (it looks like that's everything he knows how to say), "I've been thinking… there are certain things I've discovered about One For All… things that have made me… further aware that I must stop him…"

I must stop him.

There's something off with Deku tonight. Not only is his skin pale, even his freckles are lacking color, while his gaze becomes lost into space and his expression… He looks… unfeeling.

"What are you gonna do?" I correct myself.

He looks down. "I was thinking that I could go face him by myself and…"

"No," I cut him off (again) (faster this time).

"I…"

"Hey." My hand goes to the side of his face, and I turn it so he will look me in the eye. "Don't think anything like that again. Ever."

Deku is not even surprised by the whole thing of my hand on his cheek, his eyes recover a little of their usual glow, but it's just that: 'a little'. The rest of him is still cold and strange, as if there was something already dead inside him.

The thought makes me sick! This is all Shigaraki's fault! This is all the damn villains' fault! I will blast them to space and back if I have to! I just will!

There's a knock on the door. "Midoriya, Bakugou; are you in there?"

"Todoroki!"

"Half-n-Half?"

He opens the door himself.

"Man, you look like crap!" I tell him, my eyes growing seeing him like a motherfucking mommy.

It's now when I realize I hadn't seen him since I woke up in here.

"Thanks," he deadpans, closing the door after him.

"What… What Kacchan meant was that we are happy to see you're alright, Todoroki."

"It depends on what you define as 'alright', I suppose," he drones out, (more for overtiredness than anything else).

His voice is raspy.

He drops himself on the bed along with Deku and me, laying at Deku's left side while I am at his right.

We go back to the weird, not-too-awkward-but-still silence, only that now Deku and I are staring at Icy Hot.

"Are you okay?" Deku asks. (Finally.)

Todoroki

'Are you okay?'

Is anything remotely okay lately?

I'm not being pessimistic, I'm only seeing the bigger picture. Which is not a very favorable sight for us.

I don't know if I should be glad that I managed to talk with my family all together, or that the landscape ahead remains so somber, especially for Dad. Yet, despite everything, I can't bring myself to feel much beyond basic human compassion from seeing him in this situation. There's nothing personal about it, it's just… there.

Makes me wonder if I could have really become like Dabi – Toya; I keep interchanging it – if I could have become that much… cold towards someone of my own blood.

And come to think of it, what is it exactly that I feel for Toya as of now? What was I thinking when I thought I could face him myself? Am I already that much detached from another member of my own family?

The only thing that's keeping me from feeling more of that coldness is Midoriya's feverish temperature, I can perceive it for the few patches of my skin that are not bandaged; and Bakugou's eyes almost burning holes into my profile. His energy has always been contagious somehow.

I wonder what the two of them think about me right now, about my whole family. Everything about our story will come to light and revealed to the public, all the wounds and suffering we've endured. Mom, Toya, Fuyumi, Natsuo, me. Sometimes I think it isn't fair that I worry about myself at all considering they're all older than me and were suffering for much longer. That's why Mom collapsed and I got my scar; that's how Dabi was created; that's why Natsuo, Fuyumi, and I were never close as siblings. I can't help but wonder…

… maybe everything would have been better…

… if I was never born.

"Hey, are you even listening to us?" Bakugou calls out.

I'm grateful that he did. This is one of the times when it is… pleasant to have him around. His energy is indeed contagious, it's an energy of living and succeeding.

"Sorry," I apologize, "And yes, I'm alright, I think. I only… didn't see it coming."

"We understand, Todoroki," Midoriya says, kindly, "It's true that we're glad you're okay, we were worried about you during the fight."

"Yeah… your…" Bakugou clears his throat "… ah… Dabi didn't hold back."

No, he didn't.

"You don't look like him," Midoriya notes.

"And now that we're talking about that, you don't look much like Endeavor either," Bakugou continues.

A smile forms on my face. "Thanks," I say, sincerely.

The silence turns companionable after that. The three of us stare at the ceiling, I'm assuming that we're thinking and worrying about our own individual battles and what strategy are we going to use to win them. If the end of those fights will even be a victory.

"You think it'll become easier?" I wonder.

Midoriya's body temperature increases for a second upon my words.

Bakugou is the one that answers me: "We're gonna fight it anyway. All of us."

Together, he means.