For the first time in almost three years, Izuku is taken outside during the day. His eyes water at the brightness, so used to watching the world through boarded windows or under the thick cover of night. Stendhal notices, and silently hands him a pair of sunglasses. They are just a little too big.

"I don't understand," Izuku says, keeping his voice low so that the people around them can't hear.

"What don't you get?" Stendhal asks. His fingers are wrapped tight around Izuku's wrist.

"Why now?"

The man shrugs. Izuku stares up at him, taking in his neatly styled hair and the clean, well fitted clothes. He is wearing a medical mask to cover the empty space where his nose should be. If Izuku hadn't seen him preparing for the day, he wouldn't have believed that the man leading him through the streets was the same one he has been living with the past few years.

Stendhal would probably never be considered very attractive. His features are still too exaggerated, his skin scarred and his back slightly hunched. His eyes are still that chilling, glowing red. None of those things are out of place in their world of quicks and mutations, though. Dressed like this, with his hair pulled up into a neat bun, he can easily pass for a university student or a young businessman on his day off. In comparison, Izuku feels grimy and frumpy. He frowns.

"No real reason. I just figured you'd been cooped up inside the apartment for too long. I had errands to run today anyways."

Izuku's frown deepens further, but he keeps his mouth tightly shut. He knows that if he behaves today then there is a good chance that there will be future outings. He would like that.

They weave through the city streets, sidestepping the crowds with ease. As he ducks out of the way of a group of children running past without a care, it occurs to Izuku that he would not have been able to do something like that before Stendhal had taken him. He had been clumsy and slow back then, always getting pushed around or stumbling as he tried to keep up with his friends. He smiles to himself, pleased that he has been keeping pace with Stendhal without any trouble.

They arrive at the store. It is large and full of people, all packed tightly together. Izuku shuffles a little closer to Stendhal to avoid the overwhelming crush of the crowd. He hasn't been around this many people in years. Not since the last time his mom had taken him with her to go shipping.

"Stay close," Stendhal grunts, grabbing a shopping basket and heading deeper into the store. He moves like he is on a mission, and all Izuku can do is trail along as he scans the shelves with a hawklike intensity and tosses item after item into the basket.

Izuku finds his eyes wandering, scanning the faces around him to see if he recognizes anyone. Even if he does, though, they probably wouldn't know who he is. His beanie is pulled low over his dirty curls and the medical mask and sunglasses hide his features from view. If he cries out or tries to get someone's attention Stendhal will hurt them. He will make Izuku regret trying to leave.

Still, if he can somehow find a hero's face among the crowd, maybe they will have a better chance at taking him back home.

Stendhal is still, and when Izuku looks back he realizes that the man is staring. Izuku meets his eye, trying not to look guilty, and the man smiles in a way that tells Izuku that he knows exactly what Izuku is thinking. His finger taps the blades that he hides beneath his jacket, a silent warning. Izuku nods, eyes dropping to the ground in shame.

Stendhal goes back to browsing the shelves and Izuku stays beside him, silent and close as the man's own shadow. He wanders away only twice the rest of their trip: Once, to slip the newest issue of Heroes Weekly into Stendhal's basket and the second time to find the shampoo whose smell reminds him of his mama.

Stendhal's brows lift when he notices the extra items, but he doesn't say anything. He just pays and hands Izuku his own bag to carry back to the apartment. Izuku smiles up at him, excited to read the articles on All Might and all the new heroes that made their debut since Stendhal took him.

Stendhal smiles as he answers Izuku's eager questions, and on the train ride back to the apartment they pour over the new pictures of All Might's latest rescue after the collapse of a building. They spend the evening watching old videos of the hero's greatest hits, and Izuku's eyes shine bright with wonder.

(Izuku sobs silently during his bath that night, suds in his hair and the smell of home hanging heavy in the air.)