Waking up was sudden. A deep breath and eyes flying open. Izuku sat up, looking around at his surroundings, mind drawing a blank. He settled into the bed as he realized he was in a hospital room. He raised his hands, finding them bandaged and the skin pink where exposed. He frowned, turning his arms over with the deep sense that he was forgetting something.

He. . .remembered a fire.

He blinked up at the fluorescent lights above his bed. He was still in Tokyo if the view from his window wasn't a hallucination. Izuku stared at the skyscrapers, some memory on the tip of his tongue. Something. . .someone. He couldn't remember.

"Zuzu!" Eri cried, almost a scream, the tray of food she'd been carrying crashing to the floor.

Izuku looked over at the door, tears springing to his eyes as he saw her running towards him. "Eri," he breathed, opening his arms to her. His heart thudded hard in his chest as he wrapped his arms around her, something familiar about it. He hugged her tighter, burying his face in her pale blonde hair.

"You idiot," Shinsou hissed as he wrapped his arms around Izuku. "You had us scared to death."

Izuku wheezed from the bone-crushing hug, but the pressure felt nice, so he leaned towards Shinsou. He heard voices muttering and the soft click of a door and then there more arms wrapping around them. Izuku couldn't remember what he did, but the way they were hugging him. . .his heart twisted, and he gripped Eri tighter. "I'm sorry," he whispered hoarsely, not knowing what else to say.

"You can't—You can't do that again, Zuzu. You can't leave!" Eri stammered, pushing back to look at him. Izuku struggled to keep up with her tears, wiping them away with the bedsheet. "You —You—You wouldn't believe how many movies there are!" she cried, hands fisting in his gown.

"Don't cry, Eri—"

"You have to see them! All of them! You can't leave yet!"

Izuku looked down at her, feeling tears slip off his chin as he realized what she meant by 'leave'. "I'm not going anywhere, Eri," he said carefully, swiping his thumb across her cheek, ignoring how his throat ached. Izuku felt Mic's arms tighten around him, cheek pressing against his head.

"You had us scared, kid," Mic said gently, voice hitching, and he turned his face into Izuku's hair.

Izuku looked up at him, meeting his green eyes. "I don't," he said, shaking his head, "I don't remember what happened."

They all leaned back a few inches.

"Izuku," Aizawa said, pulling Eri off of Izuku and into his own arms. She clung to him, still sniffling. "You don't remember anything?"

Izuku frowned down at his arms wrapped in bandages and shook his head. "There was a fire. . ." he trailed off, looking out the window at the city. "And there was someone. . ." He frowned, struggling to remember. "Someone I wanted to protect."

"Nothing else?" Shinsou asked in disbelief, his hand pressing to Izuku's forehead like he was checking for a fever.

"Why am I covered in bandages?" Izuku asked weakly. Just looking at them sent a rock to his stomach.

Mic grew pale and he stood, looking at Aizawa as he said, "I'll get the doctor."

"W-What happened?" Izuku pushed, growing agitated. "Why are you all acting like I almost died." "Because you almost did!" Shinsou yelled, standing from the bed.

"Shinsou!" Aizawa warned, pulling Eri tighter to his chest as she cried.

Izuku stared up at Shinsou, watching in horror as his eyes filled with tears that slipped over. "God. . ." he drawled, sounding defeated, wiping his eyes bitterly, "they wouldn't take the damn cameras off you."

"What about Kacchan? And Mirko?" he asked Aizawa frantically.

Aizawa looked at him, Eri's head tucked under his chin. "They're fine, Izuku. Mirko's been talking to the police the last few days because of something you said to her and Bakugo had minimal injuries."

"A few days?" Izuku breathed, leaning back against his bed. "How long have I been out?"

Aizawa stared at him for a moment and Izuku realized how truly tired he looked; eyes redder than usual. "Four days."

"Four days," Izuku echoed, trying to comprehend it. Before he could ask anything else, Mic returned with the doctor.

"Shinsou, Eri," he said, getting their attention. "Let's wait in the lobby. This room is small." Mic took Eri into his arms and ushered a reluctant Shinsou out the door, sending one last worried glance back as the door shut.

Izuku looked up at the doctor. A young man in a starch white coat, glasses perched on his nose. "I'm Dr. Tokoro. Midoriya, right?" he asked with an easy smile that made Izuku relax a bit.

"Yes."

"And Mr. Aizawa is your guardian, yes?" he asked, pulling over the stool by the computer to sit on and sat a couple packages of fresh bandages on the bed. Izuku nodded. "Mr. Yamada said you don't remember what happened to you?"

Izuku looked down at his hands again. "Just that there was a fire and someone I wanted to protect." "I believe her name was Yuri?"

Izuku's eyes shot up and he remembered her hands reaching towards him. "Yes," he said breathlessly. "Yes, is she ok?"

Dr. Tokoro smiled gently. "She's fully recovered and reunited with her mother. All thanks to you." He sat back, looking at Izuku evenly. "You giving her your mask saved her life."

Izuku sunk into his shoulders. He didn't remember any of that but at least she was ok.

"Now," Dr. Tokoro said, snapping Izuku out of his thoughts, "since you don't remember anything, I'm sure you're curious about the bandages." He helped Izuku undo the ties of his gown and it pooled at his waist, more bandages now visible.

Izuku gave the doctor his hand, watching with belated breath as the bandages were unwrapped. He felt Aizawa move closer but couldn't take his eyes off his slowly emerging skin.

"It's healing well," he said to Aizawa who released a breath. "What happened?" Izuku asked, hissing as the tender flesh felt air.

The doctor tossed the soiled bandages into a waste bin. "You were very badly burned," he said, gently turning Izuku's arm to look at the healing progress. "I have a quirk that stimulates new cell growth and I specialize in burn victims."

"So, I'm lucky?" Izuku asked with a forced laugh to hide the way his voice was beginning to shake from the pain.

"Very," the doctor said a bit grim, plastering on that happy attitude. He ripped open a new bag of bandages and lifted Izuku's arm higher. "Your throat will be sore from the smoke for a while and it will take a few more sessions to get your burns completely healed," he said, hands hovering around Izuku's arm. "Ready?"

Izuku nodded, tensing as Dr. Tokoro's hands pressed to his skin. Izuku's hand fisted into the sheets as he bit back a cry. It stung horribly for a few seconds and then devolved to a warm, tingling sensation. He slumped forward when Dr. Tokoro removed his hands. Aizawa caught him and held him up.

Izuku stared down at his arm as the other was unwrapped. His skin was pink and rippled, warped almost, following the curve of his arm. "They're gone," he muttered, frowning a little, finding it strange not to see the mess of thin scares lacing his skin. Parts of them still showed on the areas of skin that hadn't been burned as badly. He felt Aizawa wrap an arm around him, squeezing his shoulder.

Izuku hissed as his other arm was healed, barely able to keep his eyes open after. He weakly held his arms up so that the bandages around his abdomen could be undone. Izuku leaned fully on Aizawa, drifting in and out of sleep as new bandages were wrapped around him and the gown was tied back into place.

He was asleep again before he ever laid back down.

The next time Izuku awoke it was because a weight settled on his bed. He rolled his head towards the person, squinting at the stream of light spilling through the drawn curtains. Izuku took a long blink, drawing in a slow breath when he saw who it was and he tentatively opened his eyes, half expecting to have imagined them.

But when Izuku opened his eyes, Bakugo was still there, sitting by his knees, staring down at his bandages. Izuku followed Bakugo's gaze finding fewer bandages than the first time he'd woken up. Now, Izuku could see pink, warped stretches of skin peeking out from under the white gauze

that twisted towards the tops of his hands.

Izuku relaxed into the bed even as he felt his heart stammered tiredly, watching as Bakugo's fingers brushed the scars with a hesitant touch. It felt strange, the new skin tingled and buzzed as Bakugo drew his fingers along the edges of the scar, pausing for a moment like he was gathering courage before the tracing ventured further up Izuku's arms to the edges of the bandage.

Izuku watched him as he did and the way his face pinched further into frustration with each pass of his fingers, confusion drawing at the edges like he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Izuku felt his throat tighten painfully as he tried to figure out what to say. He looked back down when Bakugo's fingers stopped moving, pressing lightly into the widest part of the visible scar, and he tried to remember the last time they'd touched skin to skin or if they ever had. Besides sparring with Mirko, there'd always been some layer of clothing between them and Izuku wondered if that is why a trail of sparks was left along his skin, even on the areas unburned.

"Kacchan?" Izuku choked out, wincing at his sore throat. He fumbled for the water sitting beside his bed, but Bakugo reached over and handed it to him. Izuku drank slowly, having to force it down. A jolt shot up his arm when he felt Bakugo's fingers brush across his skin again. "Kacchan?" Izuku said again, a little easier.

Bakugo frowned, a darkness coming over his eyes. "They said you don't remember anything."

Izuku looked down at the scars peeking out and the way Bakugo was looking at them, pale and like he was being tricked, fearing that if he looked away, they would change. "With the way everyone is acting, it's probably best that I don't."

"We—I thought you'd died," Bakugo said shakily, his hand beginning to tremble. "When the ceiling caved in and the floor fell through and you didn't respond to Mirko—"

Izuku grabbed his hand, recognizing the panic that cast a sheen of sweat across his brow. "I'm ok, Kacchan," Izuku said steadily, wishing Bakugo would look at him and not the scars. "I'm sorry."

Bakugo gritted his teeth, lips pulling back as he screwed his eyes shut and abruptly stood, shaking his head. "It was never supposed to be like this," he muttered through his clenched teeth, shoulders and muscles taut. He spun on Izuku before Izuku could find something to say, too focused on blocking out the flood of emotions radiating off Bakugo. "This was never supposed to happen!"

Izuku blinked, feeling his frustration raise as he looked at Bakugo, his lashes dark with withheld tears and so clearly scared, but Izuku couldn't remember what happened that would make him feel that way. Izuku felt like he had to say something. "I'm—" he was cut off when Bakugo turned from him, Izuku hated seeing the way he curled in on himself.

"I never should've told you to join the hero course," he said, voice breaking, shattering something in Izuku's chest.

"Don't say that," Izuku pleaded breathlessly, a hot flash stinging across his skin. "Please, don't say that."

Bakugo drew up a little straighter, chin tipping up as he took a deep breath. "You were always supposed to be Deku." His head dropped again as he muttered, "Perfectly useless Deku."

"Kacchan. . ." Izuku croaked, hand instinctively grabbing his throat at the pain.

"You've always been like this, Deku," Bakugo ground out, tight like he was reigning in his anger. "You've always just run into danger without thinking!"

Izuku sat up at the shout, fingers twisting tight into his bedsheet. "I just wanted to be like you," he wheezed, blinking rapidly, not even sure if he was making sense.

Bakugo finally opened his eyes and looked at Izuku like he was seeing him for the first time. "You were quirkless," he said, voice choked and watery. "You were weak and always trying to step between me and the fight." He drew back like he was preparing for a hit. "I—You were the one without a quirk. You were the one who was weak, but you never hesitated! Trying to protect me. Me! Just like with that sludge villain! What were you even thinking?"

"That you were in trouble! What do you want me to say?" Izuku yelled back as best he could, tears flooding to his eyes, refusing to look away. "I never hated you. Ever! I couldn't just leave you!"

Bakugo took a half step backward and swallowed thickly, eyes shifting shamefully to the bed as he muttered something under his breath. His hands curled into fists. "I saw the bruises sometimes when we were kids and I thought—" he swallowed again, eyes squeezing shut, "—I thought you were fighting or—I don't even know. And you always talked about being a damn hero! This wasn't supposed to happen!"

"Don't. . .Don't push me away again," Izuku stammered, fighting through the sting of his throat, blinking back the tears.

Bakugo's shoulders shook as he sucked in a breath. "You asked me before if knowing you had a quirk would've changed anything." He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "It wouldn't have. I never saw you as an equal." Is gaze swung over to Izuku's, locking there, the creases of his brow relaxing slightly. "I. . .didn't want you getting hurt trying to follow me," he mumbled, brow drawing tight again as he approached the side of the bed. "Now fucking look at you."

Izuku watched him sit back on the bed and moved his legs over to make more room. "It was my choice, Kacchan. I knew the risks. I'm sorry about what happened," Izuku said quietly, just having to hope Bakugo could hear him.

"You shouldn't be," he said, hand reaching towards Izuku's again, but he drew up short. "That little girl is alive because of you." He was quiet for a thoughtful minute and then said, "Mirko's been working with the police because of whatever you told her." He reached toward the end of the bed and turned back to Izuku holding his mask out like a peace offering. "I picked this up the other day. Thought you might want it."

Izuku took the mask in his hands. The cool exterior stained with soot. "Thank you." Izuku swiped his thumb across the mask, taking a streak of black with him. "Was it bad?" Izuku asked, not sure if he wanted to know.

Bakugo looked down at Izuku's arm again, a distance coming to his eyes as he said, "Yes."

"I'm ok," Izuku said again, but Bakugo shook his head.

"You weren't," he said, voice trilling, and his hand reached Izuku's, gently wrapping around his wrist. "There was a moment before the ceiling collapsed—" he looked up at Izuku, eyes locking for a second, "—then you disappeared when the debris fell, and the floor fell through and we couldn't find you."

Izuku sat up, leaning towards Bakugo, feeling the way he tightened his grip on his wrist.

"We kept trying to find a way in, but the structure was unstable, and the fire was out of control." He shook his head again, letting his grip on Izuku loosen before he drew his hand back completely.

"We couldn't keep up. . .and you were still somewhere inside."

Izuku pulled his hand into his lap, flexing his fingers to try and stretch out the lingering tingly sensation. "I remember being scared," Izuku said slowly, twisting his fingers together. "Glimpses of Yuri. . .and a lot of fire."

"That's an understatement," Bakugo scoffed lightly. "I've never seen a building burn up that fast. Especially a newer complex."

"Do you think it was a quirk?"

"Mirko seems to think so." He leaned back on an arm with a sigh, the other reaching up to massage the back of his neck. "Given the nomu a few days before, and your burns, I have a pretty good idea about who was responsible."

"Dabi?" Izuku squeaked, voice giving out halfway through. He looked down at the bandages with a newfound appreciation.

Bakugo nodded, sitting back up to cross his arms. "Since you don't remember anything, our theory right now is that you survived because you used your quirk on him, and then he added to the flames when the control broke."

Izuku sat back with a hum.

"Bakugo."

They both looked at the door, finding Aizawa and Eri holding his hand.

"Mirko is in the lobby. Said she wanted to talk to you," Aizawa said and entered the room, Eri half hiding behind his leg as she looked at Izuku. Izuku smiled at her and she relaxed a little.

Bakugo stood, casting Izuku another glance before walking around the bed. "Zuzu's ok," Eri said, pulling out Aizawa's grip. "The doctor said so."

Bakugo crouched to her level. "Deku's tougher than he looks," he said with a gentleness that surprised Izuku. "Plus, he's got you." He ruffled her hair as he stood. "You'll have to watch him —" his eyes cut to Izuku in warning, "—he likes to get into trouble."

Izuku rolled his eyes as Eri gave a stern nod and marched up to Izuku.

"You two getting along better?" Aizawa asked, head turning back to Izuku when the door closed behind Bakugo.

Izuku shrugged. "Only because my throat is too sore to yell back."

Aizawa smirked, lifting Eri onto the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Achy."

"Dr. Tokoro should be by again after you've eaten for another healing session."

Izuku pulled Eri into a hug and scowled at the bandages. "When will I get to go home?"

Aizawa blinked, a slow smile forming. "This afternoon if the healing goes well, tomorrow morning if he thinks you need another session."

Izuku settled into his pillow, eyes growing heavy as he relaxed. "Good."

"Your burns were extremely severe, so the new skin and tissue will be tender for a few weeks," Dr. Tokoro said, tossing the used bandages into the trash. "You'll have to withhold from training until you're cleared at your next appointment."

Izuku looked at the burns twisting around his arms, marveling at how the skin didn't sting against the open air anymore. "Your quirk is amazing," he breathed in awe. "They're kinda cool."

The doctor laughed, ruffling Izuku's already wild and singed hair. "Good of you to make it positive." He smiled softer, eyes crinkling. "They are cool."

There was a knock against the door frame that caught their attention. Mirko was there standing in casual clothes, smirk in place. "Mind if I steal 'em for a bit, doc?"

"Not at all," he said and left the room.

Mirko shut the door behind him and then crossed the room to Izuku's bed. "How are you feeling, kid?"

"Much better," Izuku said, turning his hands over. "Still don't remember much." Mirko hummed as she sat on the bed. Izuku pulled his legs under him and sat up. "Bakugo mentioned that. Do you remember what you told me in the ambulance?" "No, but did it have to do with Dabi?"

Her eyes widened, ears perking up. "You only said his name. You were pretty out of it by then," she huffed lightly, crossing her arms as she closed her eyes, thinking. "I guess I was hoping you remembered something about your interaction with him."

Izuku settled his cheek in his palm, tracing the folds of the bedsheet with his finger. "Dr. Tokoro says the memories may come back to me with time. All I remember right now is Yuri crawling through the ash towards me." He swallowed thickly, fingers curling into the scratchy cotton sheet. "And how hot the fire was and being terrified."

She nodded solemnly, looking off across the room. "Whatever you did saved your life and hers, but by the way the flames doubled ten minutes before it completely crumbled, I'd say you pissed him off big time."

Izuku's stomach twisted hard.

"Have you watched the footage?" she asked, eyes sliding to his.

"Not yet," Izuku admitted. "I didn't want to watch it alone, but Aizawa and everyone seem pretty shaken up, so I didn't want to ask them."

She leaned forward slightly and pulled her phone from her pocket. "Do you want to?" Izuku looked down at the phone in her hand, held out in a hesitant offering.

"I've watched it I don't know how many times," she muttered, sounding exhausted. "So, it won't be a shock to me."

Izuku nodded with a shaky breath and watched as she unlocked her phone and pulled up the news clip.

"Scooch," she ordered, sliding up beside him in the bed.

It was cramped, but Izuku found the way their sides pressed together was comforting. She held the phone out in front of them and hit play, shifting in a nervous manner as the news anchor's voice filled the air.

"That's a lot of fire," he breathed, eyes wide at the way the complex was engulfed in flames, black smoke spiraling from the broken windows.

"Bakugo and I were trying to find a way in that wouldn't make the thing crumble when the fire started getting bigger." She frowned slightly as the helicopter footage arched around the building. ". . .hotter."

There was a blast at the base of the building, camera zooming in, struggling to steady as the helicopter was thrown back when the roof of the complex caved inward. The feed shifted to a ground camera. The reporter complained that they couldn't see what was happening and officials were backing them up.

The feed shifted again. A different helicopter in perfect view of the top half of the building teetering. Falling. Threatening to crash into reporters and officials crowding the nearby area. Izuku sucked in a sharp breath as pieces of concrete broke off.

The camera zoomed in on Bakugo, blasting himself into the air, bracing his arm as he hung in free fall and let off one of the biggest explosions Izuku had ever seen from him. A deafening sound and a flash bright enough to wipe the camera feed white.

A plume of dust spilled over the area, knocked back in parts by Mirko's kicks and the other heroes dousing the area with water.

Izuku gaped as the reporter rattled off about what they were seeing as the dust settled. The blast from Bakugo had knocked the building back in on itself, resulting in minimal damage to the surrounding area.

Izuku leaned into the arm Mirko wrapped around him. "Wow," Izuku breathed, forgetting sometimes how powerful Bakugo was.

As the dust settled, the camera focused on the rich green of his suit, sticking out against the grey and black. Izuku watched as Bakugo picked up a child who Izuku assumed was Yuri, and Mirko knelt in front of him, blocking the camera's view.

Izuku gulped as he watched himself get up, arms blackened in what he first assumed was ash, but the way Mirko's face twisted into something dark and sickly made him reconsider.

"Dabi has blue fire. It's extremely hot," Mirko explained lowly, eyes trained on the footage, arm tight around him.

A chill swept over Izuku as he looked down at the warped skin on his arms. "All that. . .All that black is burns?"

Her nose wrinkled, knuckles white around the screen. Izuku wondered if seeing the footage so many times had actually lessened the sting of it.

Bakugo stood just off to the side of Mirko, cutting off another angle of the camera.

She released a stiff breath through her nose as they watched Izuku stand, his head tipping back, ash and rubble falling from his shoulders.

The camera focused in on her face as she walked in front of Izuku, Bakugo at his side. Still, the feed shifted to the other side that was left open and Izuku sucked in a gasp, recoiling. His skin, red and festering, black and peeling in places.

"Without Dr. Tokoro's quirk, the burns would've caused permanent nerve damage," she said as if musing to herself. "You're a rare case with Dabi, too. Only a few of his victims have survived, but their burns weren't as. . .sporadic as yours were."

He looked up at her curiously as she tossed the phone onto the nearby table.

"They were the worst on your arms like you raised them to defend your face," she said, crossing her forearms across her face. "They were pretty bad across your stomach, too, but mild burns covered the rest of your upper body, so you were definitely in a lot of pain."

Izuku looked down at his lap, trying not to stare at the burns twisting across the back of his hands.

Mirko stood from the bed and stretched. "From the looks of it, Dabi threw a blast of fire at you and you reacted instinctively." She shrugged; face still pinched. "If you remember anything, tell me."

"Of course," Izuku said, pulling back the sheet. "I'm ready to get out of here."

"I bet," she grinned, the tension on her face falling off. "I talked with Aizawa before I came in here. We're going to work together to come up with a rehabilitation workout." Her voice softened as she said, "You need to recover fully, Izuku. Much of your skin and nerves were rebuilt. You did really good, let yourself heal."

"I will," he promised, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. Her fingers dug into his curls and pushed his head back, so he was forced to look up at her as she smiled tightly. He gulped, shrinking back.

"If I find out you're pushing yourself too hard, I will kick your ass back into a coma." She leaned closer, threatening smile stretching wider. "Understand?"

Izuku nodded, head knocking into her palm. "Yes."

"Good," she said, pulling her hand away. "I'll check in with you once a week till we pick up the internship at the start of the next semester." She ruffled his hair again, lingering for a second before leaving the room.

Izuku watched her leave and stared at the doorway even when the last strands of hair disappeared around the turn.

Aizawa must've been waiting outside because he came in a moment later.

"I watched the news footage," Izuku said slowly as he stood from the bed. The tile floor was cold against his bare feet and he focused on that rather than how Aizawa drew his shoulders back with a deep breath.

"You watched it with Mirko?"

Izuku looked up, meeting his dark eyes, the shadows beneath them more pronounced. "Yes." Izuku felt his throat choke up. "I'm. . .sorry," he sniffed, pressing his palms against his eyes.

"Izuku," Aizawa said hesitantly, suddenly closer as Izuku felt arms wrap around him. "Things like this happen as heroes. We're just glad you're ok."

Izuku buried his face in Aizawa's shirt, hands gripping his shoulders. "I hate not remembering."

Aizawa's hands pressed against him harder, drawing him closer. "Dr. Tokoro said your tests came back fine, so we can leave now."

"Are Eri and Shinsou still here?" Izuku asked as he pulled away reluctantly.

"They went back with Hizashi to pack up the hotel room." Aizawa stepped away to the closet next to the bed. He pulled out a sack and handed it to Izuku. "Clothes," he explained before dropping it into Izuku's hands.

Izuku took the bag into the bathroom and pulled on the loose clothes with a happy sigh. He paused at the shirt and looked at himself in the mirror a small gasp startling out of him. Big bandages still covered most of his stomach and parts of his chest, but where the skin was exposed, it warped and held a faint sheen under the bright lights. Most of his skin was pink and new. Izuku felt a little relief knowing that those areas wouldn't scar as badly if at all.

He dragged his fingers over the scar tissue rippling his arms where the burns had been the worst— when he had protected his face. Izuku dragged a hand through his hair, the ends burnt and tangling together, chunks of green curls missing completely. Izuku leaned closer to his reflection, turning his head to better see the scar that warped his ear. His face had been protected, but the flames had curled around him, burning the tops of his ears and parts of his scalp.

He stood back, scowling at his reflection as he pulled on a shirt. "I look terrible," he scoffed, flinging the door open.

Aizawa looked at him over his shoulder from facing the window. He gave Izuku a quick once over before saying, "Yes. We'll need to fix that."

Izuku glared at him, not necessarily wanting to be agreed with.

When Aizawa took him to the parking garage through an unmarked hallway, Izuku tried not to think about why, but when they stepped out, flanked by two security guards, Izuku heard the shouts of reporters crowding around the main exit a floor above. Their hurried and aggressive voices echoed through the concrete walls.

Mic was already waiting in a running car when they stepped out. Shinsou got out of the back, holding the door open as he waved Izuku in. Izuku tucked into the middle seat, Eri in the booster beside him. Immediately her hands wrapped around his bicep and pulled him closer. Shinsou scooted in and shut the door.

He looked at Izuku, a little wide-eyed. "Your hair looks even worse out here." "I know," Izuku grumbled.

Even with the doors closed, Izuku could still faintly hear the voices. "They're here for me, aren't they?"

Shinsou shrugged. "They're nosy about your recovery, but they're probably hoping to get shots of Mirko and Bakugo, too. The three of you have been on the news constantly since the fire."

Izuku sunk back into the seat, staring through his knees. "Am I supposed to do an interview?" Aizawa looked back at him from the front seat. "No, UA and Mirko will be handling the press."

"Oh," Izuku breathed, relaxing. The thought of being surrounded by those pushy voices made his skin crawl with anxiety. Then another thought occurred to him. "Do I even want to know where my phone is?"

Shinsou leaned forward, rummaging through a bag. He sat back up, extending Izuku's phone to him. "Probably not," he warned.

Izuku took it hesitantly and powered it up, holding it away as the screen turned on. Shinsou leaned towards him and Eri mimicked, all three staring wide-eyed as Izuku's home screen came to life. It took a second for the notifications to start flooding in. Izuku tried to look through them, but the constant buzzing and pop-ups had him dropping the phone into his lap with a frustrated growl.

"You have so many friends," Eri muttered in awe, eyes locked on the screen flashing with notifications.

Izuku picked the phone back up and scrolled through the missed messages. Most of them were from Mina's Squad. He settled on calling Mina. It rang once before she picked up.

"Izuku!"

He pulled the phone away from his ear with a wince. "Hey, Mina."

"Oh my god," she sobbed and then yelled something too muffled for him to hear. "I know Mr. Aizawa and Bakugo said you were ok, but. . .it's good to hear your voice."

"I just left the hospital. Sorry to make you worry."

She was quiet for a moment, something shuffling in the background. "You really need to stop apologizing so much, Izuku."

He chuckled, shifting in his seat. "I'm really fine, though. There's a great doctor here who healed me."

"Oh, that's great," she said, voice drawing tight, "because you looked terrible on the news." Someone in the background hissed her name.

"You should see his hair," Shinsou said, snatching the phone from his hands. He leaned away, grinning as Izuku struggled to get it back. He laughed at something Mina said. "Oh yeah, he's still coming."

"Coming to what?" Izuku whined, reaching for the phone again.

Shinsou shoved him away, leaning closer to the window. "Training camp."

Izuku blinked, having forgotten about that. He held up his fingers and counted the days. "Wait that's tomorrow!"

"You'll have plenty of time to pack," Aizawa sighed from the passenger seat, rubbing his temples.

Mic looked back at him through the rearview mirror. "Don't worry, kiddo. Shinsou's already packed so he can help you."

Izuku slumped back into his seat. "Why is time going so fast?"

Beside him, Shinsou shrugged. "A four-day medically induced coma will do that."

Izuku drove his finger into Shinsou's side and successfully stole the phone back when he yelped. "I can't wait to see everyone."

"Prepare for the longest hug of your life!" Mina warned with a sniff. "And cookies. I've been stress baking with Sato."

Izuku listened to her argue with someone else and sat up a little straighter when he heard Kiri's voice.

"Hey man, glad to know you're going ok."

"How's Kacchan?" he asked, the question spilling out before he could think better of it. Kiri was quiet so he continued, "We talked earlier today, but we. . . kinda had another argument. . .sort of."

Kiri sighed, long and hard, mirroring the way Aizawa's shoulders drooped, and his head fell back against the headrest. "I was afraid of that," he muttered under his breath. "But he's fine health- wise. . .for the most part."

Izuku frowned. "What do you mean by that?"

"I honestly don't know, but he said he's had to go to the doctor for several follow-up appointments," Kiri said and then added, "I'm sure he'll tell you."

Izuku hummed as he thought about their earlier conversation. He hadn't noticed anything physically wrong with Bakugo. Izuku glanced at Aizawa figuring he probably knew.

"Are you headed back to Musutafu?"

"Yeah, we just left the hospital."

"Were you swarmed by paparazzi?"

Izuku remembered the clammer of voices and forced a laugh. "Luckily no, we were able to avoid them."

"Well, I'll let you go." There was a protest in the background. "Mina, he's probably tired! Sorry, Izuku. We'll see you tomorrow at camp."

Izuku pulled the phone away from his ear and stared down at the notifications still waiting to be sorted through. His thumb hovered over Hatsume's name. "C-Can Hatsume come over?" He shrunk back when Mic's green eyes flicked up to the mirror and met his. ". . .to the house?"

Mic's eyes shifted to Aizawa who nodded after a few seconds of thought. Mic's eyes crinkled in a smile that Izuku couldn't see, and he said, "I think that would be fine."

Izuku hit the dial button, a shy smile pulling at his face as he listening to it ring. "Hat's?" "Izuku! Have you left the hospital?"

He nodded then remembered she couldn't see it. "Y-Yes. We left not too long ago." "So, you'll be back soon?"

Izuku's smile widened. "Yeah, would you—I mean can you—I have camp, but—" Izuku forced himself to take a breath. "I want to see you. If you're free I mean."

"Of course! Tonight?"

"Yeah. Maybe you can stay for dinner?" He looked at Mic as he asked the question and he nodded. "Dinner."

"Sounds great. Text me when you get back."

Izuku relaxed, pressing his phone harder against his cheek. "I can't wait to see you."

She laughed lightly. "I missed you, too. I'll see you soon."

"Thanks," he said quietly after he hung up.

"I've been wanting to meet her for a while. Perfect opportunity," Mic grinned, turning his head just enough that Izuku could see it.

Izuku stared up at the house for a few seconds, letting his body relax.

Home.

Eri rushed past him and bound up the stairs, urging Mic to move faster.

"You ok?" Shinsou asked as he came up beside him with a suitcase in hand.

"Just happy to be back," Izuku sighed.

Shinsou nodded, a small, understanding smile tugging the corner of his mouth up. "I bet you're hungry. I think dad mentioned ordering out."

Izuku huffed and shook his head, trying not to smile. "Zuzu!"

He looked up at Eri glaring at him from the doorway. "Bakugo said I have to watch you!" She then stepped to the side and motioned for him to come into the house.

Izuku made an indignant scoff while Shinsou snickered. "You can't listen to Kacchan," he argued as he approached her.

She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes with a pout. "Daddy says you get yourself into trouble, too."

Izuku sputtered, cheeks heating uncomfortably. Shinsou clapped him on the shoulder before leaving them to go inside.

Eri stiffened, drawing up as tall as she possibly could. "You owe me a movie night. I haven't forgotten," she sniffed, resolve breaking.

Izuku released a puff of breath, his frustration at being the problem child with it. "We can watch

one tonight," he said, offering his hand to her.

She considered it for a second, tapping her chin in deep thought. "Two," she countered, grabbing his hand.

"You drive a hard bargain, Eri."

She grinned and dragged him inside. He sat on the couch while she pulled out countless movies, laying them all out of the floor and rearranging them in an order Izuku could not figure out.

"There's so many," she muttered, torn between decisions.

At the sound of a knock, Izuku sprung to his feet and threw open the front door. Hatsume wrapped him in a hug, face buried into his shoulder. She breathed deep and relaxed into the embrace. "I don't want to see you on the news for a long time," she said, muffled.

"I'll do my best," Izuku chuckled.

Hatsume shoved him back, still holding him at arm's length as she took in the foyer. Her eyes eventually found his again, wide and curious. "You look happy."

Izuku smiled at the way her voice tipped towards smug and pulled her into the kitchen. She gasped at the sight of Mic and tore out of Izuku's grip.

"I have so many questions about your support items!"

Mic blinked down at her, shocked for a moment before he smiled and started explaining how the speaker worked. Izuku missed her ramblings and curious nature. He jumped when Shinsou slung an arm around his shoulders and started steering him towards the hall.

"They'll be at that for a while," he reasoned. "Let's get you packed."

Izuku frowned down at the list already scratched through that Shinsou had given him, unease settling in his stomach. "I need swim trunks?"

Aizawa nodded. "It's an island so we'll be practicing water rescue." Then his brow furrowed as he considered Izuku. "You'll just have to watch."

Izuku groaned and looked back down at the list. "I don't have half of this stuff," he grumbled.

"Well, if you had told me that most of your clothes had stopped fitting, this might not be a problem."

Izuku sunk into his shoulders, cheeks smoldering as he felt Aizawa's glare bore into his back. Somewhere behind him, Hatsume and Shinsou were giggling. "I didn't think it was a big deal," he said, voice a traitorous octave higher.

"I don't know," Shinsou drawled and Izuku was already rolling his eyes. "The girls definitely don't think it's a big deal."

A hot flash crawled up Izuku's neck and he shot a heady glare at Shinsou, but his smirk only grew. "I-I just didn't notice," he tried to explain but it fell on deaf ears as Hatsume's giggles turned to laughter smothered by her hands and Aizawa dragged a hand down his face.

"Bakugo has," Shinsou taunted, leaning on Hatsume's shoulder as he devolved into another

laughing fit.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Izuku scoffed, face burning hot.

Shinsou shrugged, mischief twinkling in his eyes. "Just saying he hasn't called you 'scrawny' in a long time."

Izuku's blush simmered down slightly because he'd noticed that too. He forced his eyes back to the list. The long list of things he did not have.

"We'll go shopping after dinner," Aizawa said, stepping towards him. "Stores are open late during the summer."

Izuku blinked up at him. "But I don't have money." He glanced at Shinsou who smacked his forehead, quirking a brow at the absurd behavior.

Aizawa stared at him slack-jawed in disbelief. "Izuku, you understand that you live here, right?"

Izuku looked down at his bed where the clothing that still fit was laid out. "What does that have to do with me not having money?" He frowned harder; fists planted on his hips as he considered his bed. "I've never had money. Or bought new clothes for that matter."

"We're going to buy you new clothes, Izuku," Aizawa said sternly, arms crossing over his chest. "No arguments."

"But—"

"Izuku," Aizawa cut off, "we're your guardians. We're supposed to take care of you."

Izuku lifted the list to look at it again. "But this is a lot."

Aizawa set his hand on the paper, gently pushing it down. "Izuku, you were always supposed to have new clothes." He glanced at the bed. "And a safe place to sleep."

As Izuku stared up at Aizawa he felt like a child, that ache festering painfully in his chest, constricting his lungs. The paper crunched in his hands, spearing through the quiet room. He tried, desperately, not to think of all the things he needed as a child.

He watched with belated breath as Aizawa's hand reached towards him, hesitant and questioning. Izuku leaned into the touch, a shattering throb shooting through his chest that shocked a breath out of him.

Aizawa pulled him tight into his arms, soothing the ache.