Izuku sat on a park bench and stared.

He couldn't stop, not with the hundreds of whirling-dust thoughts in his head. He wasn't muttering though, not when the threat of death and discovery had scared that habit right out of him. He kind of wanted to mutter about the building in front of him. The building with it's welcoming colours, constant stream of kids, and many visitors with visible mutations.

The building with the word Dekiru hung by the entrance in brilliant green lettering. Izuku sat, trembling and staring and wondering.

He wasn't the most clear headed at the moment, sure, but his memory was something he prided himself on, had saved his life more than once, and that building hadn't been here. Not the first time he'd lived this year. He really should have done some research before running out into the All for One-free world but, well, he wasn't even supposed to be out of the hospital (the hospital that was being paid for by All Might, meaning any tech Izuku might have grabbed was stealing from All Might).

He could go to the library and use their computers. He would go to the library and figure out what was going on. Figure out what had changed, what he'd changed either intentionally in the take down of All for One or inadvertently in the damned butterfly effect.

He just needed a minute first.

So Izuku sat on the bench. He sat and let the warmth of the sun sink into his skin, the breeze ruffle his hair, the slats of the bench press into his spine a constant reminder of presence and reality. When he finally opened his eyes, not that he really remembered closing them, he saw himself.

"Hi!" Baby Izuku said, a beaming smile on his face.

Izuku blinked.

"It's a lot to take in, I know. Do you want a tour so you know what's available?"

Izuku blinked again and then looked to the sign that listed the services inside, everything from Quirk Counselling to after school programming to employment service for all quirk statuses (including quirkless; they'd put that on the sign).

Baby Izuku, and the child version of Izuku really wasn't that young but this was strange, laughed. "I know, but there's a lot that doesn't fit on the sign."

The kid's smile grew impossibly wider when Izuku stood and didn't falter in the slightest when Izuku reached for his cane. Izuku did falter though. He had a brief moment of panic flare with the belated realization that he could be recognized. That he was about to follow his younger self into a building he knew nothing about (beyond that remarkable, impossible list of services).

The moment didn't last and Izuku almost snorted as reality crashed into him. Izuku's hair was a mix of green and grey, the result of a quirk he didn't remember being hit with, and longer than he'd ever worn it as a child (Dadzawa length, for all that Izuku tended to wear his in a braid). He had claw marks that traced over an eye and across his left cheek as well as scars down his throat and jumping across his hands to his arms. He had a limp. And a cane.

He looked nothing like the beaming child in front of him.

The cane tapped as Izuku followed his baby self into the building he'd been staring at for the entire morning, absently wondering where the level of trust Baby Izuku was showing came from. It certainly wasn't there in any of Izuku's memories.

Izuku was rather more consciously grateful for the pressed coolness of his button down shirt and sturdy yet professional slacks tucked somewhat incongruously into combat boots. He didn't feel that out of place in this building with it's people of different styles and shapes. Izuku had asked Sir Nighteye for the clothes, trusting the man a little more than All Might in that regard.

All Might had also been busy with the clean up and Sir Nighteye had seemingly taken special interest in Izuku. The man had reiterated All Might's offer of working for them, something that Izuku took a little more seriously coming from the man who'd created one of the only Underground Agencies to run successfully, even past his death.

Sir Nighteye had also given Izuku the cane, which was kind. Izuku knew weapons and materials and knew that this cane was not something a civilian was supposed to have. It also allowed him to breathe and not feel nearly as naked without the copious about of knives and gadgets he'd managed to secret about his person and the hospital had confiscated.

He tuned back into Baby Izuku's rambling as they passed through the doorway, blinking at the warm atmosphere and copious plants.

"Mama thinks plants make the space more welcoming!"

Izuku started nodding, because they did, then turned to back to his baby self. "Your mother?"

"Yup! She's the Director! She and UA staff and a bunch of other people got the Centre built." The kid went on another long and bouncing rant about the Centre and the services and the many Heroes who had a part in it all. Izuku would have had trouble following, imagined many people would have to be honest, but Baby Izuku was still Izuku, and Izuku knew how his mind worked.

They made it to a wide and open room with different sized tables spaced around the floor and beautiful windows making up almost an entire wall.

"Come on, the have my favourite, Katsudon! You should get that, too."

"What happened to the tour?" Izuku asked.

"Were starting at the cafeteria. You're too thin." Baby Izuku looked at the thin and scarred wrist

he'd somehow commandeered to drag him to the counter. Izuku blushed. "That's a little brazen, kid."

"I've heard that before."

Izuku snorted. "Look, I can't pay-"

"Don't worry about it. We have a very robust meal program! Both for the after school crowd and the emergency beds."

Somehow, the detailed conversation of the meal program lasted through the line and halfway through lunch. Izuku wasn't sure if Baby Izuku was supposed to know this much about how the program was funded, but wasn't surprised he did. He was pretty sure that the kid probably shouldn't be telling all this to a random stranger.

It was fascinating though, and probably why it took till halfway through lunch for Izuku's tired and broken but war-trained ass to realize he was being boxed in.

To be fair, the kids were subtle. But they were Izuku's kids. His future classmates. Izuku knew not underestimate his future classmates.

Even if he had no idea what the fuck they were doing here.

Uraraka and Iida were talking by the windows. Tokoyami, Shoji, and Jirou were playing cards by the East doorway. What looked like the entire child Todorki clan, plus a tiny Toga, were in line for food. Hitoshi and fucking Kacchan were now having lunch a couple tables away.

Izuku turned slowly from taking in the room to turn to Baby Izuku, who grinned at him, sharp and unrepentant and completely unlike any expression Izuku had ever made at that age.

"Midoriya," Izuku started.

"Hm," Baby Izuku said, "I never told you my name." He titled his head, eyes soft in a burning kind of way, and didn't let Izuku speak. "Welcome home, cousin."

Izuku blinked once, then twice, then did what over a decade of war and battle and uncertainty told him to do.

He bolted.

He didn't bolt gracefully, what with the limp and the cane and the unfamiliar ground, but he'd done more with worse. Baby Izuku watched him go, casually checking the phone he'd put out on the table.

The other kids also didn't move, other than to watch him go.

Izuku should have researched. Why didn't he research? He always researched. This is what he got for not researching once in his life, for thinking he was safe. For not thinking at all. For following a version of himself into a situation Izuku didn't recognized because he was desperate for familiarity, for hope.

He made it to the fire door, hand outstretched, and watched as a long, thin piece of heavy fabric wrapped around his wrist.

Izuku was jerked back suddenly and though he knew how to stop it, how to fight back, how to

move and evade, he didn't. He was tired and sore and confused. He was done. (The fabric was more familiar than even his own gear ever had been.)

He fell back and let himself be caught and turned so that when he fell, he landed on a body rather than the hard floor.

"Zuku," Aizawa Shouta breathed, one hand reaching out to trace the scars across Izuku's cheek. The man had been just as gentle when he'd treated the injury back in a future that would never happen.

"Ai- Era-Dad?" Izuku stuttered, partly because there were people around and he didn't know what they knew, partly because he was crying now. (Cousin whispered his mind, whispered the part that sounded exactly like a baby-faced version of himself. Mine whispered a quieter part, one that had been broken and alone and afraid to hope, to dream, to research).

"Deku," his Dadzawa said. Said because that was a name only Izuku would know, here in this time. Said because he was alive and well and brushing his thumbs over Izuku's wet cheeks and carding his hands through Izuku's hair, completely pulling out the braid.

He sat up and Izuku made a broken sound through the tears, only to be pulled from sitting on Shouta's stomach to cradled in his lap, strong arms wrapped just as tightly around his shoulders as the capture weapon around his wrist.

"I-I don't understand?" Izuku managed, tracing under Shouta's eye where there was no crescent scar. "I mean, my body came back but apparently only your mind did so there must have been something about the quirk? Or the distance, since I was os much closer. Maybe, maybe I stockpiled the power while you-"

Zawa slid one gentle hand over Izuku's mouth and leaned his forehead against Izuku's. "Izu, baby, I don't actually give a flying fuck."

Izuku laughed, a weak, wet sound that made Zawa's shoulders relax for all of a moment before the man inhaled sharply again.

"Shit. Shit. You were All Might's inside man. I left you alone."

Izuku reached up to grab hold of Zawa's shaking hand, holding the calloused fingers oh so tightly in his own. "And the reconnaissance and sabotage was you. I even thought it was too high quality but I was so afraid to look, to put a target on your back or find you fine without me that I-" He raised their tangled hands to his forehead. "Shit. We're so stupid."

Zawa released one of his hands to start carding through Izuku's hair, tugging at the black strands occasionally. "We saw each other die," he said softly.

Izuku looked up into eyes the dark of night and rest and sleep.

"I wasn't going to recover from those injuries and," he took a shuddering breath, "there was a very large explosion when you- It was logical to assume that the other hadn't made it."

"I had a lot of burns when I arrived," Izuku admitted. "I had a breakdown on Nezu's couch."

"It's a very nice couch."

"So it is." Zawa let out a wet laugh before collapsing forward and enveloping Izuku in what might honestly be the best hug he'd ever had. Izuku gripped back so hard his hands were cramping. "Welcome home, Zuku."

Izuku burst into tears. "I'm home. And you're home. And were safe. They're safe. Zawa, Zawa, we did it. We did it."

"We did." Zawa pressed their foreheads back together. "We did."

They stayed like that for an impossibly long and precious moment that really only ended because

Izuku's mind was not a thing that could stop or stay still for any amount of time. "Cousin?" Izuku asked, slightly proud that he sounded only slightly shaky.

"Hm." Zawa looked slightly sheepish, but in a completely unrepentant way. "So I also may have had a bit of break down on a park bench. Midoriya Inko found me. And then her boys decided I was their Uncle. Modoriyas are terrifying."

Izuku laughed at that, softly, and then appeared surprised by the sound. Baby Izuku also laughed before slapping his hand to his mouth. Izuku looked at his younger self from Zawa's lap, at the way that only Baby Izuku and his mother had come close to the pair just starting to pull themselves off the floor.

Midoriya Inko stepped forward to help, drawing Izuku into a hug the moment he was somewhat on his feet but allowing his right hand to remain attached to Zawa.

"Hello, Izuku. It's so good to meet you," Izuku's mother told him, which hurt, but really mostly in a good way (she was alive and happy and apparently the leader of an entire community centre focused on those no one else wanted to help). "I'm so very glad you came home, nephew mine."

Izuku blinked and spent several long moments soaking up her warmth and trying not to burst into tears again when she eventually let go.

Baby Izuku took that moment to wrap his arms around Izuku's waist in what was a very weird moment that probably confirmed some sort of alternate-universe or branching timeline theory since the world didn't break.

"Thank you," Baby Izuku said.

"For what?" Adult Izuku asked.

"For being a the hero I needed. The hero we all needed."

Izuku looked up from his baby-self, his cousin, apparently, to look at the cafeteria full of people and former classmates that were very carefully not looking at them. He then looked to Zawa, hoping the man had some idea how to deal with this because Izuku did not.

Zawa didn't look back because he currently had his face framed by Izuku's mother (now Aunt?) who was leaning forward to whisper, "Thank you, Shouta. Thank you for keeping him safe."

Izuku held tighter to the hand in his and felt Zawa do the same. He was very happy and rather confused and very done, something he was very sure his Dadzawa was also feeling since the man looked like wanted to drag them both away and into a corner and a sleeping bag. Thankfully, and with the timing that truly made him Izuku's favourite hero, All Might walked through the door.

The careful chatter in the cafeteria swapped very quickly to the quiet rustle of bodies pivoting to watch All Might walk over to their corner. Izuku and probably Shouta were likely the only ones to realize the man was feeling just slightly awkward, more for the moment he hadn't intended to ruin than anything else.

In Izuku's defence, he hadn't expected All Might himself to track him down after the hospital jailbreak.

"Hello Aizawas!" All Might boomed, a slight hesitation the only indication that he was initially intending to use a different greeting. Izuku wasn't surprised he'd resorted to that. The man had definitely heard some of the previous conversation and had also blatantly refused to call Izuku but the name he'd assumed during All for One's takedown since the hospital. Something about knowing that wasn't who Izuku was and giving him time to reveal his own identity. Izuku had been a little emotionally overwhelmed at the time and didn't remember all the specifics.

"It is good to see such a joyous reunion and, perhaps, to finally have an answer to the particular fervency the both of you put towards your recent actions."

Which, yes, that was probably a thought process they should let Yagi keep. Besides, taking down an entire organization because they killed his son was absolutely something Dadzawa would do (had done).

Zawa scowled up at All Might. "Didn't I get you to start calling me Shouta?"

All Might stuttered a bit, which was hilarious but when Izuku tried to hide his smile in his dad's arm the man refocused.

"You left the hospital rather early, my boy."

Izuku just shrugged as Zawa sighed. "Yeah, that tracks. Don't suppose you'd be willing to cause a distraction so we can duck out the back?"

"Certainly," All Might smiled, but it was all Yagi softness. "As long as you promise to contact me later."

"Eep," said Baby Izuku, looking up at his oldest hero. "I mean, I'll help."

Zawa grumbled something about sincerity and stupid friends that even Izuku could barely catch before patting Baby Izuku on the head and shoving a card at All Might.

"Get your teachers licence and then we can talk."

"Zawa!" Izuku laughed even as a large hand settled around his wrist and hoisted him onto Zawa's back. Izuku wasn't really protesting and he wrapped both arms and legs tightly around his dad.

His mother-aunt opened the door with a fond look on her face.

Izuku turned back just once to smile at All Might and point to Baby Izuku. "That's my cousin. You're going to like him."

"I'm sure I will," Yagi said.

"Wow." Whispered Baby Izuku. "I mean. Would you like a tour? Of the Centre?" "Yes, my boy. I do believe I would."

Zawa budled them both out the fire door with an ease that spoke more to his determination than Izuku's lack of bulk, though, to be fair, he had been short on more than one meal lately.

The talked as the went, down the stairs and out to a car and away from the Centre. Nothing of the future, not really anything about the past. Mostly catching up so they were on the same page about what they'd done since time travelling with a side of random declarations of how proud they were of each other and how happy they were to not be alone.

Zawa even contributed despite the fact that Izuku was normally the much more emotional one out of the two of them. A fact he lived up to when they had to spend a solid thirty minutes in the parking lot of UA with Izuku sitting in Zawa's lap and absolutely bawling about the way his dad had found each and every one of their class and made sure they were okay.

Izuku really wasn't surprised they'd headed to UA. Zawa hadn't gotten attached to apartments or safe houses easily, and they certainly wouldn't feel like home after everything they'd been through. UA, on the other hand, had always felt like home.

He was maybe a bit more surprised when they went directly to Nezu's office while using combat stealth techniques to make sure they weren't seen by any staff or students by mutual silent agreement. Nezu wasn't actually there, but the door opened for Zawa and the man immediately steered Izuku to the purple couch in the corner.

Izuku sat with little effort, his leg sore despite being carried for much of the journey, and smiled at the folded sleeping bag tucked into the corner. There was also a cup full of Zawa's favourite marking pens and a reusable mug with a cat face on it.

Zawa leaned down and rested both of his hands on Izuku's shoulders. "You know that I'm so very proud of you, right?"

"Yes," Izuku said because he really did know that.

"And that I'm very happy that you're here."

"Yes, Zawa. You've said."

"And that we'll figure all the details and the stories out. Or that we'll let Nezu figure all the details and the stories out."

"Yes, Zawa. What's wrong?" Izuku frowned since his dad generally didn't like repeating himself. "I really want a fucking nap."

Izuku smiled, a small slow thing and reached out to grab Zawa and pull him onto the couch. The man went very easily and let himself be manhandled into perfect pillow position, only stopping to grab the blanket spread over the back of the couch and the sleeping bag to open and pool around them.

Izuku was tired, too. Emotionally and physically exhausted might be the better terms. A nap, sleeping warm and safe within UA's walls and his dad's arms was the kind of miracle he'd never imagined to have again.

"There's nothing I'd like more," Izuku said, already halfway asleep. "Just, just be here when I wake up."

"Course, kid." Zawa's arms pulled him closer. "Promise." *

Izuku woke up to rustling, the kind of rusting made when someone was trying to be very quiet. The kind of quiet that wasn't nefarious, though. A careful quiet. A kind quiet.

Present Mic was placing boxes of takeout on Ness's desk, prepping forward in a clear effort not wake them. It succeeded with Shouta, the man still knocked out but breathing under Izuku's head, because Shouta trusted Hizashi with everything. Shouta had also admitted to crashing with Hizashi more frequently than not because it was easiest to remember when he was when he didn't wake up alone in an apartment he barely recognized.

It didn't work as well with Izuku, not because he didn't trust Hizashi, but because he'd spent the last year and change waking up in a lair belonging to All for One. Also, the last Izuku had seen Hizashi, the man had been very dead.

"Zashi?" Asked Izuku from his place lying on tope of Zawa, buried in a yellow sleeping bag and diamond-pattered blanket that was possibly the softest thing he'd ever felt.

"Heya, kiddo. Sorry to wake you." Hizashi walked forward a bit, not getting too close. "Just dropping off some food for when you're ready."

"S'okay. Thanks." Izuku closed his eyes for a moment that was possibly longer than he meant it to be. "Glad you're no longer dead. We miss'd you."

Izuku buried more deeply down into the blanket, relishing in the feeling of Zawa's strong arms across his back before freezing.

"Shit," Izuku said. "Wasn't supposed to say that, was I?"

"It's okay, sweetheart. Nezu caught me up on the time travel thing so Shou wouldn't have to."

"That was nice of him," Izuku said, relief sending him into a boneless sprawl as he gave a long, slow blink. He was still so tired. And warm. And safe. When he opened his eyes again, Hizashi was kneeling by the couch, keeping his movements slow and voice low so not to startle Izuku or wake Zawa. "Don't let me ruin it."

Hizashi had raised a hand and hesitated just slightly before Izuku moved to press into the long fingers. "Ruin what?" Hizashi asked, carding through Izuku's curls with infinite gentleness.

"It. You and Zawa." Izuku blinked again, fighting sleep. This was important. "Must be weird, having to deal with a sudden surprise kid." Hizashi's fingers stilled and Izuku had to fight not to whine and press forward again. "Specially one who's too old and broken."

The fingers started again, this time sweeping far enough forward to brush Izuku's cheek and trace the bottom of the scars there.

"Nah, Kiddo. Pretty sure the surprise kid only makes it better."

Izuku blinked again, but he forgot to reopen his eyes. By the time he remembered to try, Hizashi

was humming softly. The song was pretty and soothing and Izuku didn't want to interrupt, so he kept his eyes closed.

Better. Things were better. *

Shouta woke up to cackling. It was soft cackling, but cackling nonetheless. He didn't actually get up or run for the hills because he'd become well-accustomed to waking up to Nezu's cackling since he'd come back and taken over Nezu's couch as a prime napping location. Also because his Problem Child's hands were in his hair.

Shouta knew those were his Problem Child's hands. They'd spent hours like this before, alone and scared and craving the only comfort they could find. Shouta was immediately and immensely grateful that there was no moment of confusion or forgetting. That he woke to the bone deep, time- tested certainly that this was his kid, his Izuku, running grown up fingers through Shouta's hair and talking with Nezu over a game of chess.

They were talking about the methods of building Izuku a fake identity and whether he should get his degree through general testing or being run through UA exams and backdating results. About names and what Izuku wanted to be called. About the benefits of heroics versus quirk counselling versus analysis and the fact that the recommendations of UA, the Centre, and All Might would open whichever doors Izuku wanted. About different hypothetical quirks (never time travel) that could be used to explain why Shouta had an adult son.

They talked until Izuku tugged on a strong of Shouta's hair.

"No comments, Dadzawa?"

Shouta hummed, but opened one eye. "Both of you will do whatever you want."

Nezu cackled again while Izuku just smiled. Shouta did lever himself up though, still in the sleeping bag, so he could lean on Izuku's shoulder and peer at the chess board.

"I suppose I'm a little surprised that neither of you have hit on the idea of making you Nezu's personal student slash assistant and then gas-lighting the fuck out of everyone by explaining nothing at all. Not like Nezu explains things he doesn't want to anyway. And seeing everyone's expressions when they realize Zuku keeps up to the notorious Principal of UA would be fucking hilarious."

Nezu grinned, though Shouta wasn't sure it was just at the idea. "You were right, you know."

Shouta raised an eyebrow.

"I do like him."

Izuku blushed and stuttered and was rescued by the boiling water that announced it was time for tea.

Shouta watched Izuku by the tea. He was hesitating over the choices, probably over-analyzing the options. Tea for headaches, tea for tiredness, the future-Nezu's favourite that might not be the

current-Nezu's favourite. His mother's favourite, which would be a comfort or maybe a reminder.

Shouta was considering getting up and going over when Izuku took a deep breath and his shoulders relaxed, fingers training over the different tins with reverence instead of anxiety.

"I can do this," Izuku said quietly.

Shouta smiled and closed his eyes. He didn't need to watch Izuku's choice, not really. He'd support the boy regardless and enjoy the experience all the same.

That's what family did, if various Midoriyas were to be believed. Shouta couldn't imagine believing in anyone more.

Izuku watched his older self, mildly concerned the man was going to laugh himself off the training structure that was really just a plus ultra jungle gym. The concern was secondary to the joy and relief that came from hearing his cousin laugh so freely. Izuku hadn't heard more than a chuckle or a sarcastic quip from the man since he'd come back.

Izuku wasn't sure what kind of future his uncle and cousin had come back from, not really. He had ideas and thoughts and possibilities, but nothing concrete. Cousin Zu had sat down next to Izuku, one night when Izuku had his computer open and his fingers were tapping a restless rhythm into an empty notebook. Izuku's cousin had said that the villain's name was All for One. That Cousin Zu and Uncle Shouta and Uncle Yagi and many other heroes had ended him completely and utterly and that none of it would ever happen.

He said they wouldn't answer questions. Couldn't, because things were better now and they didn't want Izuku or anyone else chasing events that were nothing more than possibilities. That it would hurt in ways they couldn't explain and never wanted any of them to understand.

Cousin Zu had left Izuku at the computer, had deliberately left him enough information to really begin researching and finding his own answers. Izuku hadn't, though. He might, probably would, to be honest, some day. But he'd been more than happy to shut the computer and retreat to the kitchen table where Cousin Zu was challenging Tenko to a game of chess and Uncle Shouta was asleep in sleeping bag in the most defensible spot in the room while Mom and Uncle Zashi were laughing in the kitchen.

The look Cousin Zu had sent Izuku, molten approval backed by an iron core of pride, made the choice worth it.

Izuku liked Cousin Zu. Cousin Zu was Izuku's older self in many obvious ways but also entirely different in his sadness and caution and lingering fear. Izuku was quirkless. He knew all of those things on an intrinsic level but they didn't linger in his bones and weigh down his movement like they did for Cousin Zu.

Izuku trusted his Cousin Zu and Uncle Shouta. He trusted his mom and his brother and his friends. He knew they would never let him become Cousin Zu. Even if Izuku didn't think he'd mind that much. He hated the hurt that lingered around his cousin. He did, his cousin and his uncle deserved so many nice things, but, well, his cousin was a hero.

His cousin was the first quirkless hero.

Cousin Zu didn't seem to think that was the case. And Izuku knew there was something about a quirk. Something about All for One and Uncle Yagi and the way Cousin's Zu's bones ached and Uncle Shouta's eyes tracked Cousin Zu when certain topics came up. Izuku didn't have all the pieces but he didn't care. Not when Cousin Zu was quirkless now.

Cousin Zu had been quirkless when he'd taken down All for One and earned All Might's respect and come back to Uncle Shouta, making the man happier in one single moment than Izuku's family had ever managed.

Cousin Zu was a hero and if he was so determined not to see it, if he was so determined not to let anyone else see it, content in the shadow of UA and the Centre and providing analysis to agencies on the sly, then okay. That was fine. Izuku respected his cousin's choice.

Midoriya Izuku was the first quirkless hero. He'd also be the second.

"You're cousin is fucking badass," Kacchan panted from beside Izuku. Izuku blinked, pulled back from his thoughts to stare at the blonde and the rest of their friends that had somehow been manipulated into taking each other out as Cousin Zu barely moved from his spot at the top of the jungle gym, one of the four flag's the kids needed to win the training exercise absently spinning in his hand.

"He is," Izuku admitted with no little pride. Though much less pride than Uncle Shouta who was grinning full-teeth and elbowing a bemused Hizashi in the side. "But so are we."

Tenko approached, dragging a smoking Toya by the wrist. "We need a plan, baby brother. A better one."

Izuku hummed, extending his own hand for Kacchan to grab. The other boy's palm was solid in his own as Izuku hauled him up.

Cousin Zu smirked down at him, all-teeth just like his dad. Just like the man who'd he'd sent into Izuku's life, the man that had changed everything with deliberate, fragile desperation. The same desperation was in Cousin Zu's eyes, in his bones, always. A mourning that never left either of them even after they'd reunited because the more you had, the more you had to lose.

There was also a ferocity. An edge to his posture, to his spine, that declared to anyone who really looked that what had been broken had been rebuilt. Cousin Zu's eyes focused on Izuku with a verdant intensity, a spark that hadn't been extinguished regardless of attempted smothering and drowning and sorrow. They challenged.

Izuku grinned back, just once, just briefly with teeth bared, and turned to face his friends. Izuku wasn't about to lose.

"We can do this."