A/N: Tomura and Inko have their first actual person-to-person interaction of the book! Another short chapter, sorry - consider it a bridge to the next arc!
Another cool, damp cloth was applied to the dizzy man's head, and as he cracked his eyes open he caught sight of Inko's tense form, brow knit in concentration, as she replaced his washcloth and gently massaged some kind of balm into his cracking cheeks.
"You're awake," she softly noted. Her eyes softened while she lifted a bowl of lukewarm soup from the cabinet next to his bedroll. "Here, eat this - it'll help you get well."
"I don't… need… help," he grumbled, though he struggled to sit up as she knelt beside him.
"Here," she instructed, gathering some broth into the spoon and bringing it close to his lips.
He had no choice but to accept it, but once he realized it wasn't hot on his tongue he relaxed minutely. Even then he watched her as intensely as he could, eyes narrowed in distrust.
"It's not poisoned," she reassured him. "Hisashi watched me make it. He's actually the one who told me to let it cool for you."
"Why didn't he come?" He stubbornly questioned.
"He had to go out," the small woman answered dismissively.
"I don't need your help," he insisted with a hiss. "Leave me alone."
"Tomura, you need to eat something." Inko exasperatedly gestured to the water bottle near his head. "For heaven's sake, you've hardly drank anything. You've been sleeping for days."
"Isn't it rest that allows you to get better?" He countered with a sharp glare. "Then let me rest. I'm tired."
She took a deep breath, trying to stem her frustration. "Tomura… I know you and my son don't get along. I know you don't like me, and that's fine. But since you're my husband's charge, that means I also am obligated to care for you. Now just let me-"
"I don't need anyone else," he barked, startling her enough so that the soup sloshed in the bowl. "I especially don't need a mother. I killed my mother."
Inko's lip trembled, even as she looked down at the full bowl of soup. "I know," she quietly replied. "He… told me that too."
"I don't want you around at all. I don't care about you." He seethed. "So go away, before I do something I'll regret."
Inko remained for a second, trying to will her nerves to stop jumping about.
"GO," he exclaimed.
Nodding, she set the bowl aside and got to her feet as quickly as she could without tripping and falling.
"Sorry for disturbing your sleep," she said just loud enough to be heard, before she silently left the room.
He watched her go before rolling his eyes and falling back onto his pillow, shoving the wet cloth back onto his forehead. The bowl of soup went uneaten as he attempted to fall back asleep.
"I don't need a mother," he repeated waspishly to himself, closing his eyes. "I don't need one."
Meanwhile, Inko moved through the hall. Pulling on a coat and grabbing her purse, she slipped on some walking shoes and paused at the door. Glancing back into the silent building, she let out a shaky sigh and swiped the pad of her thumb across her eyes before she took a breath and stepped out the door.
She never noticed the phone left sitting on the shelf in the entryway, even as it lit up with a text from All Might, revealing a lock screen photo of herself, her son, and All Might smiling at the camera.