Izuku sat with Bakugo on the porch steps, enjoying the cool morning with a mug of warm tea in his hands. He let himself breathe and rested his head on Bakugo's shoulder. It was early. A thin fog still hung in the air, slowly being burned away by the rising sun.

"You didn't have to come over so early, you know," Izuku said, closing his eyes as Bakugo shifted. He smiled when Bakugo leaned his head against his.

"I'm up early anyway," he replied gruffly, taking the mug from Izuku's hands. "And dealing with the morning rush sounded fucking terrible."

Izuku laughed lightly. "Alright, that's fair." He turned his head to look up at Bakugo. "Are you sure your ears are ok?" he asked, brushing his fingers over the curve of Bakugo's ear as he sat up. "That explosion was pretty big."

Bakugo grabbed his hand as his voice got distant. "My ears are fine," he promised, drawing his fingertips along the lines of Izuku's palm. "The earplugs are just a precaution. Can't plan for everything, Deku."

As he thought about the attack the other night, he searched Bakugo's eyes. He found all the colors he'd spent so much time memorizing, laced together and shining.

Izuku sighed happily.

"Always you," he whispered under his breath.

Bakugo raised a brow and leaned towards him. "What are you thinking about, Deku?"

"If I could show you, I would," Izuku sighed. "But I'm thinking about you." He closed his eyes as their noses brushed.

"Then tell me," Bakugo said. "Describe it."

Izuku opened his eyes, heat lifting to his cheeks. "Well," he started, "I'm thinking about how much I've always loved the color of your eyes." A smile tugged at his lips as Bakugo's eyes widened slightly. "There's just so many shades and sometimes they look different." Izuku sat up with an excited breath. "Like at camp. When we were sitting by the fire." His hand curled into Bakugo's sleeve, pulling him closer. "It's like they turned amber in the firelight. It was beautiful."

Bakugo gaped, his cheeks brightening to that color of pink Izuku liked so much. He turned away with a huff. "What the fuck, Deku? It's like seven in the morning."

"Yeah?" Izuku leaned on him. "You asked."

Bakugo relaxed with a low grumble. "You didn't have to say it like that," he snipped, nose scrunched in distaste.

Izuku looped an arm around his neck and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "I don't see what the problem is, Kacchan. I think you're pretty."

"Pretty?" he scoffed, leaning away from Izuku.

Izuku hung on and leaned with him. "Yeah, very pretty. Especially when you're blushing like this." He swept his thumb over his cheek. "Like when you were tying my tie." He smiled sheepishly when Bakugo's eyes narrowed. "I thought you were pretty and I kind of freaked out."

"That explains a lot," he muttered, glaring off to the side. "You didn't look too bad yourself. Got any more gala's coming up?"

A slow smile spread across Izuku's face. "There's a big one at the end of the year. I'm sure I could bring a guest."

The corner of Bakugo's lips tipped up. "Are you asking me out, Deku?"

Izuku tilted his head back and gave a show of thinking about it. "I guess you wouldn't be a terrible date." He jumped when Bakugo drove a finger into his side. "Will you go to a gala with me, Kacchan?"

"If it's anything like the sports festival, it should be interesting."

"Oh yeah," Izuku agreed, "it's always interesting with Hatsume in charge." He sat up when the door opened behind them.

Eri peeked through the opening, her eyes wide and sleepy. "Zuzu?" she asked, rubbing her cheek. "And Bakugo?"

"Good morning, Eri," Izuku said with a warm smile.

She looked around before stepping onto the porch and shutting the door behind her. Izuku scooted over and offered the place between them.

"I didn't know Bakugo was coming over for breakfast," she said through a yawn as she sat down. "Is Papa making pancakes?"

"He is," Izuku said, petting her knotted curls. "Is he up yet?"

Eri squinted up at the grey sky. "No, him and Daddy are still sleeping. Hoshi, too." She yawned wide and deep. "Why is everyone still sleeping?"

"Well, it is early," Izuku pointed out and sipped his tea. He grimaced at the lukewarm temperature.

"Isn't Kami coming, too?"

Izuku nodded and set the mug aside. "Later when we're making breakfast."

She reached up and touched the new scar stretch across his cheek. "What happened?" she asked with an irritated frown. "Papa and Daddy won't tell me anything. Just that you were hurt."

Izuku touched the scar himself, feeling the sliver of raised skin. He was torn on what to say. On one hand, he wanted to give her an answer but on the other, he didn't want to upset Aizawa or Mic. After a few moments of thought, he settled on, "Knives are very dangerous. I wasn't careful and I got hurt."

Her frown furrowed deeper, lip jutting out in a pout. "You hurt your face, Zuzu?" He pressed his lips together tightly. "I'm very clumsy."

Her eyes narrowed but she didn't press any more questions. "Can you help me make tea, Zuzu?"

"Sure thing." He stood and offered his hand to her. Bakugo followed them inside and sat at the table while Izuku filled the kettle and rinsed the mug of his old tea.

He set a fresh mug down in front of Bakugo and poured another for Eri. A few minutes later, Shinsou stumbled into the room. He nodded a hello to Izuku and Eri then squinted at Bakugo.

"Why are you here so early?" he asked gruffly.

"Is it a problem?" Bakugo sipped from his mug while glaring back at Shinsou.

Izuku scowled at the two of them. "It's not that big of a deal. Aizawa said it was fine last night." He reached into the cabinet and pulled out another mug. This time he filled it was fresh coffee before he handed it to Shinsou who grunted in thanks. "When's Kaminari coming over?"

"Soon," he said after slurping the coffee. "He texted me that he was about to leave campus a while ago."

"Then we need to wake Papa and Daddy for breakfast," Eri said to Izuku from where she sat at the table.

Izuku looked at the pot of freshly brewed coffee and considered. "I'm sure they'll be up soon, Eri."

Eri slouched across the table with a groan. She perked up and looked over at Bakugo. "You wanna hear me play? I've been practicing." She didn't wait for an answer, already sliding out of her chair and headed towards the hall. Izuku watched her go with a small smile.

Izuku sighed happily into his mug as messy playing filled the air. It was better than the first time he'd come home to Mic teaching Eri. Of course, he loved when Bakugo played. Eri smiled wide and in awe, fully captivated.

His heart caught in his chest when Bakugo's eyes snagged on his. The smallest smile lifting his lips as he strummed, the notes crisp and clear. Izuku grinned into his tea and tried to ignore the way his cheeks warmed knowing that it wasn't from the steam.

He attempted to give Shinsou a smile, but he faltered as a wave of Bakugo's emotions washed over him. Thrown at him more like given the grin on Bakugo's face. Izuku glared at him as he gathered himself and blocked Bakugo out with considerable effort.

"You're all here," Aizawa said, scowling around the room as he stood the threshold of the hallway.

Izuku poured him a mug of coffee which he took with a nod. "Kaminari should be here soon," Izuku told him.

Aizawa glared at his coffee. "Should've done lunch or something."

"Why did you change it from dinner?"

"It was Mic's idea," Aizawa sighed. "You know how much he loves pancakes."

They both looked up as there was a knock on the door. Shinsou stood from the couch to open it.

Izuku pressed his lips together to stifle a laugh as Kaminari exited the foyer stiff and scared to death. Aizawa sighed heavily and set his mug down on the counter.

"Hello, Kaminari," Aizawa greeted.

Izuku turned his face when he heard the note of teasing in Aizawa's voice. "Hello, Mr. Aizawa!"

Shinsou raised his brows, clearly concerned at how straight Kaminari was standing. He settled a glare on Aizawa. "You're scaring him." He pinched Kaminari's arm making him yelp. "Relax, Denki."

Kaminari leaned away and rubbed his arm. "Your dad is our teacher! How am I supposed to be calm?" he hissed back. "This is like an actual nightmare."

Izuku offered him a cup of tea. "It's just us," he said, smiling when Kaminari took the mug gingerly like it was a peace offering.

"You're not gonna like make me do homework, are you?" He gave Aizawa a suspicious once over. "Do you sleep in a sleeping bag here too?"

Aizawa raised a brow, his amused smile hidden behind his mug. "Would homework make you relax?"

"No," Kaminari drawled with narrowed eyes. "So, what are we having?"

"Pancakes!" Mic declared; arms thrown wide as he came into the living room.

Eri gasped and slid off the couch to hug him. "Papa, Bakugo is playing the guitar with me."

Mic scooped her up into his arms and carried her into the kitchen. "Yeah? Do you want to help me cook?"

"Yes! I'm the best pancake maker." She wiggled out of Mic's arms and dragged one of the kitchen chairs over to the counter.

Izuku took a seat in his usual chair and smiled at Bakugo when he sat down next to him. Under the table, Izuku laced their fingers together thinking fondly back to the convention when it'd been one of the scariest things he'd ever done.

Hey.

Izuku perked up as he heard the thought. The single word. He glanced at Bakugo curiously, but his eyes were focused on the table. Izuku grinned as he pulled together, Hey, Kacchan.

Bakugo jumped a bit, eyes going wide. What the fuck.

Weird?

Bakugo glared at him. It's really this easy?

Izuku tugged his hand closer. Yes. I've gotten used to accepting thoughts directed at me. I'll always hear you when we're training. He barely smothered a laugh as Bakugo grabbed his head.

"How does it feel to you?"

Izuku stared off to the side in thought. "Everyone thinks a certain way. I can tell it's you because you sound like you. Shinsou tends to come in slower whereas you just barrel in."

"Barrel in, huh?" he asked with a smirk.

"Yes," Izuku said with a stern nod. "You're very good at getting through my blocks, Kacchan. Strong will and all."

He pulled on Izuku's hand, his index finger stroking the burns on the top of his hand. "Is that a problem?"

Izuku took a deep breath to fight off how his arm tensed from Bakugo's touch. "Most of the time, no," he said, looking away shyly. "And I know you do it on purpose sometimes." He huffed as he remembered earlier, but Bakugo's grin only grew.

"You should really work on your poker face," he teased, touch traveling higher up Izuku's arm.

Izuku glared down at the action, tempted to pull away. "Well, if you would stop messing with me, I wouldn't have to." He promptly shut his mouth as Bakugo's thoughts reached out to him, feelings that stirred heat under his skin.

Bakugo didn't back down from Izuku's glare and he leaned in closer, thoughts rolling off of him unhindered.

"Kacchan," he ground out, turning to look at the living room so no one saw how his face was burning. "Seriously, stop it."

"Why?" Bakugo asked, tilting his head, mouth tipped high to one side. "Is something wrong, Deku?"

Izuku shot him the nastiest glare we could muster, but it only seemed to egg Bakugo on. "Zuzu, how many do you want?"

Izuku took a deep breath before he looked back at her. "How many do you think I need?" She squinted her eyes. "Four?"

"Sounds great."

After they had eaten breakfast, Izuku waved to Kaminari as he left.

"That wasn't a complete disaster," Aizawa muttered, handing Izuku a clean plate to dry.

"Could've been worse," Izuku agreed. He looked over his shoulder at Bakugo and Eri sitting on the couch watching cartoons. She was still plucking away at her guitar with a mess of notes he couldn't quite figure out the song too. Mic and Shinsou sat at the table chatting quietly.

"How are you feeling?"

Izuku thought for a moment as he spun a bowl in his towel covered hand to dry it. "I feel fine. I mean my injuries were minor and with Recovery Girl's help, I feel no different than before."

Aizawa let out a low hum. "That's a relief."

Izuku set the bowl down harder than he meant to and winced, but the quilt stirring in his chest tightened painfully. From the corner of his eye, he saw Aizawa watching him. "It was. . .supposed to be me," he murmured, hoping that Shinsou and Bakugo wouldn't hear him. "They were after

me."

"Izuku," Aizawa said sternly, turning to him.

"You're going to tell me to not worry about it," Izuku said, staring through the counter. "No." Aizawa pulled the plug from the sink drain. "I wasn't going to say that, Izuku."

Izuku glanced over to him. He stiffened when Aizawa set a hand on his shoulder and moved closer. He closed his eyes, remember when a touch like that would've sparked fear and how now, he yearned for it.

"I just don't want you to get stuck again," Aizawa sighed, dragging a hand down Izuku's hair.

"Stuck," Izuku echoed, barely a breath of air. He supposed that was a good way to describe it. "Is it wrong that I feel bad for him?"

Aizawa took the towel from his hands and started drying the counter. "No, I think that means you have empathy." He straightened up slowly, reserved. "I think you two are similar. Maybe that's why you feel so strongly about what happened during the fire."

Izuku's heart twisted in his chest. The flames were still bright in his head, blocking out Bakugo's figure in eerie blue. "I guess I can see that."

"Just remember to talk to us."

Izuku looked at him with a small nod. "There was actually something else I wanted to ask you about."

It felt almost strange to sit at the foot of a tree, relaxing in its shade after the weekend. Izuku sighed as a cool breeze brushed his face purely enjoying the peaceful moment. He ran his fingers through Bakugo's hair who was half asleep in the grass beside him.

"What time is it?" he asked, fighting off a yawn.

Izuku squinted down at his phone. "Almost time to go back to classes." Their empty bento's sat off to the side next to their bags. Bakugo blinked up at him with a tired smile. "You're getting good at that," Izuku said softly as Bakugo's emotions pressed into him, warm and inviting.

Bakugo stretched with a coy grin. "It's not hard once you figure it out," he said sitting up. "Still," Izuku said, "you control your emotions and thoughts well."

Bakugo reach forward and poked his forehead. "Couldn't let you hear something you weren't supposed to."

"I'm careful about that," Izuku muttered as he pushed Bakugo's hand away. "Especially nowadays." He softened as Bakugo's nose pressed against his cheek. "What?" he asked, looking into Bakugo's eyes.

"We have Hero training today," he said, searching Izuku's face.

"I know." Izuku frowned, eyes flicking down to Bakugo's side. "Are you feeling ok? I thought Recovery Girl cleared you for training?"

Bakugo smirked fondly. "I'm fine, nerd. I was asking about you."

"Me?" Izuku's brow furrowed deeper when he nodded. "I wasn't injured very badly. I'm fine. My quirk is fine, too"

Bakugo raised a brow, his right hand climbing the length of Izuku's arm. "Fire won't bother you? Dabi?"

Izuku reached up and grabbed his hand. "I'm fine, Kacchan. I promise. If anything goes wrong, I'll tell Aizawa."

They both looked up as the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch period. Izuku stood and swung his backpack onto his shoulders. He turned back to Bakugo and stepped up to him, lacing his arms around his neck.

"Seriously, Kacchan, no more secrets." He took a deep breath. "I promise." Bakugo stared at him for a moment before giving a small nod in response.

"Speaking of which," Izuku said as he stepped back, "I. . .asked Aizawa to do something for me a few days ago."

The question had passed his mind on occasion over the years, but he'd never given it much thought. So much of the past had been dug up and put back to rest, but this one thing still glared at him.

"What?" Bakugo asked, adjusting the straps on his shoulders.

Izuku fell into step beside him. "About my dad."

He was pulled to an abrupt halt by Bakugo who stared at him wide-eyed.

"Your dad?" Bakugo repeated like he'd misheard. "The one who—?"

"Yeah. Him," Izuku said with a slight nod and a glance away. "I haven't really thought about him much since I was a kid. But. . ."

Bakugo grabbed his hand when he trailed off. "But what, Deku?"

"I want to apologize to him," Izuku said, the words breathless as he laced their fingers. He looked down at the ground between them. "Maybe that sounds silly, but I think it's something I need to do."

"Is he buried in Musutafu?"

Izuku let Bakugo pull him towards the training gyms. "I think so; he died here. I'm not really sure, that's why I asked Aizawa to look into it."

"Has he found anything?"

"He said he'd tell me when he did. The other day he mentioned getting a records request. It shouldn't take too long." He pulled Bakugo's hand closer to his side, eyes locked on the students walking in front of them. "Do you. . .think you could come with me?"

Bakugo's steps slowed. "You want me to come?" he asked, coming to a stop.

Izuku looked him in the eyes, searching the colors hidden there, and said, "Yes." He felt Bakugo's hand tighten around his and his heart strained in his chest. "I mean, if you're not busy, anyway."

"Just tell me when," Bakugo said, grip tight on Izuku as he started walking. "We're going to be late if you keep moping."

"I'm not moping!" Izuku huffed, falling in step beside him. "I just wasn't sure if you'd be busy or something."

Bakugo stopped again and turned on him. "I can make time for that, Deku." Izuku glanced away as warmth filled his chest. "Thank you, Kacchan."

Sparks few around Izuku as he held a metal bar in place for Hatsume. He stepped away at her thumbs up and marveled at her work. Currently, it was nothing more than a frame but the blueprints sitting on the workbench next to them created a mech suit to be used in training to simulate opponents with strength enhancing quirks.

Hatsume pushed up the face shield and wiped the sweat from her brow. "You ok, Izuku?" she asked.

Izuku blinked at her, slowly coming out of his thoughts. "I'm still thinking about Dabi," he admitted, "and everything that happened."

She set down the welder and pulled off her gloves. "It's only been a few days, Izuku. Not even a week." Hatsume took a seat on a stool near him. "How's Bakugo?"

"He's back to training like normal," he said as he sat down beside her. "The scar. . . is pretty big."

Hatsume pulled the water bottle away from her lips, eyes becoming heavy with worry. "What about you?"

Izuku reached up and touched the scar on his cheek. "I'm not really sure," he said slowly, pulling his hand away from his face. "I'm still reeling from it all. The nightmares are back and sometimes I wonder if I'll ever be completely rid of fake Dabi. I'm on edging thinking that he'll reappear." He heaved out a sigh and ran a hand through his hair. "I guess no one would really be ok after that fight, but I feel like I just drifting." He sat up and met Hatsume's eyes. "I'm not really sure. . .how to feel right now."

She tilted her head in thought. "You know that's ok, right?"

"I do," Izuku said with a small smile. "Mrs. Ito told me as much the other day." He stared through the workbench in front of them. "Thank you, Hatsume."

"For what?" she asked with a faint laugh.

Izuku looked at her and tried to burn the image of that amused smile into his memory. "For dragging me to that training course."

Her smile fell sightly before it crumbled completely and her eyes glazed over. Izuku wrapped her arms around her tight as she flung herself forward. "I'm so proud of you," she said, voice tight. "I knew from the first day I met you that'd you'd be amazing."

Izuku tucked his nose against her hair. "I wouldn't be here without you."

She pulled away and wiped her eyes. "I just gave you a shove. You did all the hard work."

Izuku stood and picked up his bag. "I can't wait to see where you end up," he said, giving her a knowing look.

"I guess we'll find out." She grinned and picked up the welding helmet. "I'll see you later, Izuku."

He waved goodbye as she sparked the torch back to life and firmly shut the shop door. The hall was empty and quiet. The late hour in the afternoon left the school empty and desolate feeling. Outside wasn't much better. Izuku walked back to the dorms at an idle pace, enjoying the stillness and quiet that surrounded him.

No noise. No thoughts.

That was until he approached the dorms, and the gentle hum of familiar voices filled his head. He pushed open the door and was met by a hug.

"Izuku!" Mina squealed.

"Hey, Mina," Izuku said and returned the hug.

She pulled away and held him at arm's length. "Bakugo and Kiri aren't back yet, and Aizawa said he's bringing Eri by later."

"Is Shinsou not here?"

"He and Kami went to go see a movie," she said. "They won't be back till later."

Izuku nodded and looked down at his phone. "It's getting pretty late, I'm surprised Kacchan isn't back yet."

Mina leaned forward and looked at the time. "You know how Bakugo gets when he doesn't get to train every day. They probably just got carried away."

"He better not overwork himself," Izuku grumbled as he typed out a quick text checking in. His breath snagged as a message from Aizawa popped up with a link.

"Everything ok?" Mina asked, noticing the way his face dropped.

Izuku took a breath and nodded. "Yeah, it's ok." He moved past her to sit on the couch, thumb hovering over the notification. He pressed it before he could second guess himself and quickly read through what Aizawa had sent.

The link glared at him, taunting him to press it.

Izuku dropped the phone to his lap feeling his eyes sting.

You killed your father when your quirk manifested. Did you think becoming a Hero would somehow make that right?

"No," Izuku whispered to himself as he clicked the link, "but maybe I can do better."

His eyes scanned the information, absorbing every detail. The location, the plot, his name, the date of death.

Izuku straightened up as Bakugo leaned on him from the backside of the couch.

"What are you doing?" he asked, arms circling Izuku's neck.

Izuku leaned back against him and relaxed. "Aizawa sent me the information I asked for about my father." He felt Bakugo stiffen and looked up at him. "I don't think I'm ready to go quite yet, but. . ." he trailed off as he looked at his dark screen, "it's nice to have it here."

Bakugo searched his face for a moment before nodding. "Come on. Let's cook dinner."

Izuku grabbed his arm and stopped him before he could walk away. He pressed a kiss to Bakugo's lips, chaste and sweet.

"What was that about?" Bakugo asked, the corner of this mouth tugging up.

Izuku leaned away to look at him. "I just wanted to kiss you. Is that ok, Kacchan?"

Bakugo shook his head, unable to hide the smile on his face. "Come on, nerd, before the extra's get hungry."

Izuku stepped off the train with a hitched breath.

Officially back in Tokyo.

Bakugo watched him as the crowd around them moved without stopping. Izuku marveled at the pace of the big city. No one seemed to stop for anything. Compared to Musutafu which quieted down at night, Tokyo was always alive with activity.

"Are you ok?" Bakugo asked as they entered the street.

Izuku watched as cars and people passed. "I'm fine," he assured, eyes locked on a skyscraper. "Where are meeting Mirko?"

"A hotel a few blocks from here." Bakugo checked his phone before motioning to the right.

It was strange being back. He looked down at the scars on his hand peeking out from under the cuff of his sleeve. "What about you?" Izuku asked, meeting Bakugo's eyes. They were trained hard on the space before them. He scowled at their full hands and settled on a gentle shoulder bump to get his attention. "You were there, too, Kacchan," Izuku said softly.

"I know," Bakugo said, voice strained like he wanted to snap but was holding himself back. He sucked in a deep breath and rolled his shoulders. "It's been months. It's fine."

Izuku looked away from him and considered what he remembered in the last few moments of the fire. Mostly the fear and shock on Bakugo's face. "I'm ready to move on, too," he said and shifted a bag to his shoulder.

"It's probably why Mirko choose here."

"It is," Izuku said, twisting his head around to look at the large buildings as they entered the hotel district. "She called me the other night to make sure I was ready after the fight last week."

Bakugo smirked. "Yeah, she called me after to make sure you weren't bullshitting." "What?" Izuku scoffed. "I—"

"You would," Bakugo cut off.

Izuku deflated with a huff. "Fine. I probably would, but there's no need to conspire behind my back."

"There is when you run headfirst into danger, Deku," Bakugo said with a glare.

Izuku soured but didn't respond. He followed Bakugo into a hotel and sent Mirko a text while Bakugo got them checked in. "I'm not that bad," Izuku said as they rode the elevator up.

"You're that fucking bad." Bakugo's lip curled back with annoyance. "Don't worry about me guys, I'm just going to chase after fucking Dabi on my own," he mocked as they walked down the hall.

Izuku trailed behind him with a laugh. "Ok, I get your point."

The door to their room flung open before they reached it. Mirko stepped out with a grin. "About time!"

Izuku blinked at her, confused as her excited emotions brushed up against him. "Are we late?" he asked Bakugo.

"Mirko," Bakugo hissed lowly, "I swear—"

"Oh no!" she cut off and grabbed them, shoving them into her room. "I've watched you two dance around each other for way too long not to enjoy this a little bit."

Izuku set his bags off to the side and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "So you knew?"

"Please," Mirko said with a wave of her hand and grabbed Bakugo, "I've known since his heart went all haywire on the roof that first time."

Bakugo shoved her off. "Shut the hell up!"

Mirko raised a brow in challenge. "I could tell him about the other thing."

"Don't you dare."

"I won't," she said with a triumphant grin, "but you should."

Izuku watched them curiously, amused as the argument volleyed back and forth. "So, what are we doing this weekend?" Izuku asked as they veered off on a tangent.

Mirko looked at him for a second as if remembering he was there before she said, "Just some patrolling to get you two back into the swing of things. I have some bigger jobs scheduled this semester though, so you two need to be prepared to train hard."

"I will," Izuku said, drawing his hands onto determined fists. "I've already learned so much from you, Mirko, I can't wait to learn more."

Mirko grinned. "Let's see if you're still talking that way on Sunday."

If there was one thing Izuku had learned, it was that time had a way of changing things beyond expectation. As a child, he only ever dreamed of becoming a Hero and let that dream go as a young, beaten down teenager.

A family. A home. People to care for. People who cared about him.

It was more than he had ever fathomed possible.

"I can't believe they're rebuilding already," Izuku murmured, watching as a crane lifted a beam to the half-completed structure.

Bakugo watched from beside him. "They wouldn't leave it empty for long."

"I know." Izuku looked down at the concrete parking lot where he'd collapsed to the ground with Yuri in his arms. "But you can hardly tell there was ever a fire to begin with."

He still remembered the moment he looked out the window and saw the plume of smoke, the height of the flames when they reached the complex.

It was all gone. Replaced by new rebar and steel beams. Just a memory.

"It's kind of nice though," Izuku said with a weak shrug. "I think it'd be worse if it looked the same."

"Probably," Bakugo agreed, eyes locked on the ground floor. "Still feels like shit being here."

Izuku looked over to where Mirko stood with a small group of people taking pictures. "You're right," he sighed. "We'll just have to make better memories here, Kacchan."

"Do you have something in mind?"

Izuku's heart warmed as Bakugo turned to him with a half-smile. Another thing he never expected to happen. "Not really, but I'm sure we can figure something out." He looked over at Mirko bidding her fan goodbye with a wince. "If Mirko doesn't train us into exhaustion first."

"Fat chance of that," Bakugo scoffed.

"I'm afraid our time together is getting limited," Mirko said in mock sympathy as she hooked an arm around either of them. "You'll have to go on a date some other time."

Izuku's face flushed, and he looked away in an attempt to hide it. He cleared his throat and steeled himself. "Do I get to spar with you now?"

"Sure do," Mirko grinned, hands on her hips. "Now that you're beating Blasty on the regular, you get to work with me."

A thrilled shot of pride rushed through Izuku. "I can't wait."

She grinned and ruffled his hair. "That's the spirit!" Her ears swiveled to the right. "Sounds like some trouble. Let's go!"

Izuku ran behind her, reaching out with his quirk to search for thoughts of distress.

Between the training and patrol when Sunday came Izuku was worn out to the bone. Mirko had given them a reassuring slap on the back with a hearty laugh before they left. Izuku sat by the window, watching as the scenery passed with Bakugo dozing beside him. His eyes hung heavy, but sleep felt like a far-off wish.

He looked down at the phone in his hands.

With a deep breath, he opened up the file Aizawa had sent him, reading it for the umpteenth time. Izuku practically had it memorized. He'd looked up the directions and walked it in his head. Tried to imagine what it would be like to stand there.

He rolled his head over to look at Bakugo. Their stop was coming up, but he was nearly passed out. Izuku reached forward and fitted his hand into Bakugo's.

Bakugo blinked and squeezed gently. He didn't say anything as he looked over at Izuku, but Izuku could feel his thoughts and emotions.

It was like a door had been open. It'd been surprising at first, but Izuku was growing used to the constant presence of Bakugo around him. The more they practiced with mental communication the better Bakugo got at controlling his emotional output.

Izuku realized just how tightly Bakugo had been holding himself, how reserved he'd been. It was like he'd finally relaxed and Izuku loved getting to know this new, open side of Bakugo.

"Tomorrow," Izuku said, focusing on the red of Bakugo's eyes. Bakugo nodded after a moment. "Ok. We can go tomorrow."

"Are you sure about this?" Bakugo asked as they reached the entrance of the cemetery.

Izuku looked up at the sign and swallowed hard. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't thought about turning around and going back to campus at least three times on their way there. He clutched the bouquet of flowers they'd stopped to get to his chest and forced a curt nod. "Yes. I'm sure."

His heart raced the further in they walk, his breath thin. "Calm down," Bakugo urged with a grab of his hand.

Izuku stopped and breathed deep. "It's just a lot—" He hated the way his voice cracked. "I never thought—"

"I know," Bakugo said as he pulled Izuku into a hug. "Are you sure you want to do this today?"

Izuku wiped his eyes and looked around at the gravestones surround them. His heart settled in his chest. "No, I want to do this." He drew back from Bakugo and straightened up. "But it's not easy." He watched Bakugo's brow pinch in a familiar way.

"Do you know which way it is?"

Izuku pulled out his phone and swiped through the directions he'd save. "This way," he said, leading Bakugo down through the cemetery.

Izuku didn't expect anything remarkable about the grave. He brushed off the collection of leaves and other debris that had collected over the years with a shaky hand. "I guess. . .no one's been here," he nearly wheezed, struggling to keep his emotions in check.

Bakugo took the flowers as he nearly dropped them and set them down at the base of the stone.

"I still remember it," Izuku said, rereading the name of his father engraved in the stone over and over. "When it happened. Not much. . .but it's there." Izuku felt comfort in the warmth that reached out from Bakugo and leaned closer to him.

He wasn't sure if it was possible for the dead to hear him. But he'd try another day with all the words he'd wanted to say over the years.

For now, he was happy to enjoy the September silence with Bakugo at his side. It had taken a long time, but Izuku felt like he was at the final stage.

With every breath, the pain in his ribs eased and his eyes dried up. He became aware of the concern on Bakugo's face and how tightly he clutched his hand like Bakugo was afraid he might slip away.

Izuku crouched down and ran his fingers over the name, wanting to carve it into his memory with as many senses as possible. He noticed something as he stood.

Inko Midoriya did not have a death date.

He stared at the empty spot of smooth stone. "She's still alive," he muttered with vague curiosity. He felt like it should've hurt more to know she was still out there and had never come looking for him. Surely, she had to know with him being on the news. Then again, if she'd never come to his father's grave, he couldn't expect her to come find him.

"Whatever you want," Bakugo said, recapturing Izuku's hand as he stood.

Izuku frowned and closed his eyes. He wasn't sure if he even wanted to see her again. He didn't remember her face or what she looked like. She was just a name.

"She didn't want me," Izuku said slowly, giving life to words he'd kept inside for years. "But that's ok." He looked down at their hands and then back up to Bakugo's face. "I have all I've ever wanted and more." Izuku stepped back from the gravestone with Bakugo. "What's the plan now?"

"Graduate and then kick-ass," Bakugo said as if it was plainly clear.

Izuku laughed knowing he should've expected that. "Together?" Izuku asked with a teasing smirk. Bakugo grinned and pulled him closer. "Always."