Izuku's Point of View
Kacchan left for training camp a few weeks ago, a bittersweet moment for the both of us. Obviously, I was thrilled for him to have the opportunity to go, but I also couldn't stop the touch of bitterness from polluting my well wishes to him and the rest of our class. I really wanted to go too. Heck I've more than earned the right to go, but I'd never be able to get away with it with the way my health is now. All my dialysis sessions have been spaced out throughout the week which means I can't even leave the area for more than a day or two at most.
During their time at camp, everyone's been cut off from the rest of the world as a precaution which means I haven't even been able to talk to Kacchan for what feels like forever. I never realized how much I shared with him until all the sudden he wasn't there to listen. I write in my journals and make extra phone calls to my mom, but it just isn't the same. I spend a lot of extra time at the hospital too. After Dr. Kaneko was caught up in the situation, he brought in a geneticist to join my care team.
He ordered a wide array of tests, diagnostic imaging and lab work, but ultimately conceded that modern science was years away from being able to tackle this kind of DNA deformity. Then with stubborn determination, he assured me he would still try anyway and wanted to do whatever he could to help me. He's an ally I need in my corner right now, a small glimmer of hope that feels just as in reach as the full moon or sparkling stars studded throughout the sky.
While taking another comforting sip from my steaming mug of coffee, I shift my gaze over to the hospital room's window. The normally blue sky is completely obscured by a thick layer of dusty grey clouds, heavy with the impending storm. The window is cracked open, just enough for that earthy fresh, pre rain smell to permeate my room. It's the calm before the storm, an eerie kind of stillness that precedes the chaotic upheaval lingering just beyond us. Hopefully the bus bringing my classmates home today will make it before the storm hits.
A low rumble sounds off in the distance, breaking through the serene silence as raindrops patter and splash against the roof and mist along the street below me. The musky scent of moisture and dirt intensifies just as the first strong gust of wind whistles through my open window. At the same time, my door slides open as mom walks inside carrying a large, dusty box.
"Morning" she says in a sing-song voice before offering me a hug. She looks a bit livelier today than what she had over the past few weeks. A little more pep to her step, her smile warm and genuine. I wonder what has her in such a good mood? Maybe it has to do with whatever is in that box.
Either way, seeing her happy makes me happy and so for the first time in a while I'm easily able to return her smile as I hug her back, closing my eyes as she kisses my cheek before she takes a seat at the foot of my bed. "Morning mom. What'cha got in that box there?"
"Well, I was cleaning the apartment this morning and I found this pushed all the way to the back of my closet." She gives it a little shake, the resulting sound decidedly muffled and heavy. "After I opened it, I thought immediately that it might be something you'd like to look through."
With my interest piqued, I push the blanket off, set my mug on the end table and scoot over the bed to sit next to her. Now that I'm closer, I can see the dusty box is banged up with little dents and nicks scattered all over it. Whatever is in there must be pretty old, something long forgotten. "So… what is it?" I blink up at her expectantly, my excitement and interest rising with each passing second.
"How about we open it and find out, hmm?" She smoothed her hands over the folded crease at the top before slowly pulling it open. As the box popped a plume of dust lifted into the air, leaving a musty old book smell lingering in its wake. Is it weird that I love that smell? Because I totally do.
The dust wafted into the air, tickling my nose and making me sneeze before finally settling. While rubbing my nose with one hand, I leaned over to get a better look at what was inside. Glossy colors, crinkled paper, and leather-bound albums were all thrown together haphazardly, filling the box all the way to the top. I have no idea how she managed to carry that all the way up here, but I'm glad she did. If the random, uncovered photos strewn throughout are anything to go by, it's filled with keepsakes and pictures of our family.
"Wow, is that a picture of me as a baby?" After picking out the first picture, I hold it up for both of us to see. It's of mom cradling a baby, all bundled up in a light blue blanket. The edges are worn, color faded, but it's still meaningful in it's own right.
Mom's practically glowing beside me as she gingerly takes the picture from me, holding it at eye level. "You can't tell from this picture, but you were born with a full head of the most beautiful curls." She laughed before adding, "they were so soft and silky" as an afterthought. "I had the worst heartburn during my pregnancy."
Confused, I asked, "What does that have to do with my hair?"
"It's really just an old wives' tale, but they say if you have heartburn while pregnant it means the baby will have hair on his little head when he comes out." Her hand swept through my curls as she spoke, ruffling them in the way she always has going back as far as I can remember.
I thought about that for a minute, trying to find the correlation between the two things, but came up short. "There isn't really a connection between those things though, right?"
She chuckled at my question before answering, "That's the way of old wives' tales. They don't make much sense but sometimes they turn out to be true."
Suddenly, the soft patter of rain transitioned to a heavy pelting, filling my ears with the subtle roar of a torrential downpour. A streak of lightning flashed just outside my window, followed by the loud boom of thunder. It was so loud I could have sworn it sounded right next to the hospital; mom physically startling from the sound.
"My goodness, that's loud! Hopefully Katsuki and the rest of your classmates will make it back safely." She looked over to my window worriedly, her bottom lip wedged between her teeth.
"Yeah, I was thinking the same thing. I'm sure they'll be fine though." Returning to the box, I see it's packed with so many interesting trinkets and keepsakes, and dozens of letters that I'm itching to read, but ultimately, it's another loose photo that captures my attention. Carefully, I pull it out to get a closer look. This one is of mom while still pregnant with me. She was standing next to my father, beaming proudly as her hands rested along the swell of her belly while dad's arm was wrapped securely around her shoulders. From a distance, a stranger might have said they were happy but from what mom told me, he was disloyal, even at this time in their lives together.
Looking at the picture elicits a strange reaction from me. I'm angry, so very angry at him for everything he put her through, for every selfish decision he made since meeting her. But still, the peaceful happiness radiating from mom as she stands there with him, maybe only a few weeks out from delivery, outshines the resentment I feel whenever I see his face. I'm glad I look more like my mom. If I looked anything like him, I'm not sure I'd ever be able to look at myself in the mirror.
Silence lingers after I picked that particular picture out of the box until, finally, I break it with a halfhearted, "You looked really happy in this picture, mom."
"That's because I was." She responds easily. "I know I had something special growing in there. Nothing else mattered except the knowledge that I'd be meeting you one day."
My chin wobbles and it's all I can do not to start with the waterworks. I know once I start then she'll start and there's no one here to stop either of us. Taking a deep breath through my nose, I do my best to tame the building emotional pressure and follow with a slow exhale through my mouth. I replace the picture back within the box and pull out a neatly folded piece of lined paper. The outside flap has a date written on it, July 10th. That's only a few days before my birthday.
Slowly, I unfold the paper, revealing a letter written in neat penmanship. Looking over to mom questioningly, I wait for her nod of approval before reading over the letter.
Dear Izuku
We're a whole week past your due date. I don't know what you're waiting for but maybe you could come out sometime soon? Mommy and Daddy are so excited to meet you and honestly, my back needs a break. I guess I should take your insistence to stay put as a compliment, it must be nice and cozy in there after all. If it helps, your nursery is finished. It's hero themed, complete with hero wall stickers, plushies, and blankets. I just had a feeling you might like that, so I went all out. Alright, well it's getting late and I should get some sleep. Just know that I already love you more than I ever thought I could love anything, and I eagerly await the day we meet.
Love
Mom
Well crap. If the tears weren't coming out before, they sure are now. Mom's sniffling and wiping her eyes and I do the same while chuckling at just how sappy the two of us are. We really are two peas in a pod.
"I love you mom."
"I love you too, Izuku." She pulls me in snuggly against her side as the two of us continue to sift through the priceless contents of the worn and weathered box.
It's hard to say how long we sat together, leaning over the dilapidated box, our short legs dangling over the side of the bed. I'd guess a long time given how stiff my back felt or how much my neck was starting to ache from being in an uncomfortable, craned position. Eventually Mom left, needing to prepare for work. She left the box with me though, so I continued my bittersweet walk through the past.
Out of everything, the letters were the most interesting to me. A lot of them were written to me before I was born, but there were a few others as well. Some were written to my grandparents, some to close family friends. The most difficult to read were those written to my dad. They were poignant, wrought with longing and betrayal, while others were deceptively happy like nothing was wrong. I guess it's another thing mom and I have in common but while I like to write in my journals, mom liked to write letters that she never actually mailed. I wonder if she realized those letters to dad were mixed in there, if I was meant to read them.
After I finished examining everything inside the box, I took a short nap, only to be woken an hour later for dialysis. Taking one last glance at my comfy bed, I woefully shuffle over to the couch with my laptop in hand, accepting my fate for the next few hours. Judging from the view outside the window, it looks like the storm has calmed down, the rain reduced to a calm trickle, the wind nothing more than a light breeze of air.
The heavy bite of rubbing alcohol lingered as I sat hunched over with my laptop resting across my legs, one arm outstretched and connected to a host of needles and tubes while I used the other to guide my google search. My hand trembled slightly as I typed, leading my fingers to occasional land on the wrong keys. So annoying. I shouldn't be cold; I've asked my nurse to basically bury me in all of the heated blankets she could find but it's beginning to seem like that frosty chill that's deeply seated in my bones is here to stay.
Ignoring the way my aching fingers feel like literal icicles, I click on my desired link and wait patiently for the video to buffer and play. It's all hero news with the most recent villain attacks and intricate takedowns. I could watch these videos for hours, they're like an escape from reality. Just as I was about to click on the next video, my door swings open to reveal a pair of excited, chocolate brown eyes, and pink cheeks that I've missed so much.
"Uraraka!"
"Deku!" She lunges forward, squeezing her arms around my neck while careful not to jostle my IVs. I hug her back with my free arm while taking a quick glance at the doorway to see if anyone else came with her. Surprisingly, there isn't anyone there. I'd have thought Kacchan would insist on getting here first.
While trying to hide my disappointment, I greet my friend, still excited to see her even if she did come alone. "How was camp? Did you come up with some new techniques? I missed you guys so much!"
Laughing, she plops down next to me, turning slightly so she's facing me. "I worked out a few new moves, but they need some fine tuning." Her smile faltered then, just a little. "So, how have things been here? Any major breakthroughs?"
Mentioning the lack of progress kind of dampened the mood. My shoulders slumped a little as I sighed in frustration. "No, it's all just more of the same." I swallowed hard against the tightening in my throat, trying not to dwell too much on it.
"Oh, I see." Her posture kind of slagged in the same way mine did. She cleared her throat before turning to the bag she brought with her. "So, I was thinking, and I realized it's been a long time since we had a dessert date. I bought some goodies from our favorite bakery and thought maybe we could eat and gossip like we used to. What do you say?" Her full lips spread into a sweet smile as she held the bag out to me, though it was no longer reaching her eyes. It pained me to know I was hurting her and telling her I can barely down a cup of miso soup right now let alone a pastry would just make it worse.
Nodding, I take the bag from her and peek inside. There are two plastic containers, each containing my favorite confetti cupcakes along with two forks and a few napkins. I hand her one while taking the second for myself. As I pull the plastic shell open, I ask her, "Did everyone else get home okay?"
A knowing smirk spreads over her face, one eyebrow quirked questioningly. "Bakugou will be here later. He said he had something he needed to do before visiting."
Darn, she figured me out. Panicked, I raise my hands up and wave them in front of my face. "That sounded bad! It's not-"
"It's okay, Deku. I'm not offended or anything. You two were attached at the hip before we left so I'm sure you've missed him a lot." She pops her own takeout container open, removing the cupcake with her thumb and index finger gripping firmly around the liner.
"Yeah but still, I'm happy to see you too. I was just surprised I guess."
"Don't look so gloomy. He'll be here before you know it." She carefully removes the liner before indulging it a big bite, licking the smidge of icing that caught on her upper lip. "God these are so good. They fed us all health food crap while we were at camp. It was awful."
"Yeah that sounds terrible" I agree as I swipe my finger through the frosting and lick it off. I'm really curious to know what Kacchan's doing but I know I could benefit from one on one time with my best friend too so I settle in and enjoy the glimmer of familiarity that her presence brings while we talk about everything and nothing all at once.