- .My Hero Academia: 180 degrees. -

20. Where Midoriya thinks for 9 minutes about Uraraka and "Rei Todoroki" returns home.

Todoroki maintained his usual serious expression during the video call with Midoriya.

—So, Dabi escaped —Izuku couldn't help but feel a bit disheartened by the news as he sat down at his desk.

—Yeah —Todoroki replied without breaking eye contact—. It was a discreet but quick operation. My father... —he paused briefly before continuing— knocked on the door pretending to be delivering a pizza...

Midoriya blinked in surprise—. I can't imagine Endeavor saying that!

—They forced him —Todoroki explained plainly, without a hint of emotion in his tone—. After that, he made a big hole in the entrance to surprise them, but when we went in, none of the criminals were there.

Midoriya frowned, resting his chin on his hand—. Maybe they noticed the tracker.

—That's what the police chief assumes as well —Todoroki nodded slightly—. There were signs they fled the place in a hurry. Fortunately, in a locked room, we found my mother. She was really shaken up and wouldn't let a doctor examine her, but she did allow me to help her out of there.

—At least she's safe now —Midoriya lowered his head a little, feeling some relief, though the worry still weighed heavily on his chest—. I guess we'll have to keep investigating to find Dabi.

Todoroki shook his head, his gaze firm.

—That's not the priority right now. Thanks to you, my mother is resting at home —Todoroki gave a small smile, but then sighed, running a hand through the back of his neck—. The doctor recommended limiting my father's contact with her for a while, given they still have unresolved issues. So, my siblings and I will take turns caring for her and keeping her company.

Todoroki closed his eyes for a moment, his voice softening when he reopened them—. Honestly, I can't thank you enough for making this possible, Midoriya. You've proven to be a trustworthy friend.

Midoriya felt his cheeks warm slightly at Todoroki's words. He scratched the back of his neck with a nervous smile—. I just wanted things to go right this time.

—They did —Todoroki gave a slight nod, but his expression darkened again—. I need to ask you one last favor.

Midoriya straightened in his seat, awaiting the request.

—For now, I want you to stop focusing on capturing Dabi, Midoriya —Todoroki said seriously—. I know you've been training non-stop for the UA entrance exam, and you probably put a lot of extra effort into this investigation to find my mother, but... it's clear from your eyes that you haven't been sleeping well lately.

Midoriya shifted in his seat, surprised. It wasn't the first time someone had noticed that week. He remembered Uraraka trying to touch his cheek the day before, and how he had instinctively jumped back, awkwardly avoiding her hand.

—Don't worry, I'm fine —he tried to reassure Todoroki with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes—. I've just been having... strange dreams, and it's been hard to get back to sleep sometimes.

—Dreams about that Kacchan guy again? —Todoroki raised an eyebrow.

Midoriya laughed nervously—. No... not exactly.

Todoroki observed him in silence, as if analyzing every expression on his friend's face. Then, he raised a hand and let out a small gust of cold air that wrapped around his fingers—. If it's bothering you, I can...

—No, no, I promise it's not that! —Midoriya waved his hands, trying to stop Todoroki before he seriously considered intervening—. It's... something different.

Todoroki narrowed his eyes, deep in thought—. Is it something you can't tell me?

Midoriya felt a knot in his stomach. It wasn't that he didn't want to tell him... he just didn't know how.

—Does it have to do with your friend? —Todoroki suddenly asked—. What was her name... Uraraka?

Midoriya's body tensed. He stood up abruptly from his chair, nervous—. Ah, look at the time! I think you're right, I should get some rest —he laughed awkwardly, trying to cut the conversation short.

Todoroki watched him calmly, as if he had picked up on more than Midoriya was willing to admit—. Alright. If you can, come train at my house one of these days. It's a big place. We can have practice fights in a wing away from where my mother is staying, so we won't disturb her. You can stay over if you'd like.

—Thanks, I'll do that —Midoriya nodded with a more genuine smile, feeling more at ease now that the conversation had shifted in another direction.

Todoroki, however, watched him for a moment longer, as if still not entirely convinced that everything was fine. But he didn't say anything more. With a final farewell, the video call ended. Midoriya sighed, leaning back in his chair, and his mind once again returned to those dreams that troubled him, the ones where his heart's emotions and unanswered questions intertwined.

He was tired, that was the truth, but he still had to go see Mr. Yagi as he had promised. He glanced at the clock on his bedroom wall, realizing he had a few minutes before heading out. He could use that time to get ready... or maybe...

His eyes drifted to the phone resting on his desk, and for a brief moment, he thought about calling Uraraka. The idea made him hesitate. After all, it hadn't been right for him to pull away like that when he felt her hand brush against him. He wanted to clear things up so she wouldn't think he was uncomfortable being close to her, but the memory of her words made him second-guess what they had agreed on.

I don't want to stand in the way of your dream of becoming a hero

Izuku sighed, picking up the phone from his desk without really intending to dial.

After snapping a picture of the wall in his room with his phone, Midoriya busied himself with taking down the notes he'd stuck up regarding the Dabi case and organizing them into a folder.

He was really happy for Todoroki, and it was a relief to know his mother was safe now.

Once he finished organizing the notes, he paused for a moment to look at his analysis notebook. In it, he had made notes on all the heroes he knew, and the page he was on was dedicated to Momo Yaoyorozu. He had scribbled some details about her quirk and a quick sketch of her wearing her undercover outfit, along with notes like:

—She can create objects as long as she knows their properties (*Kind of like a video game character).

—If it's similar to other creation quirks I've observed, she likely has to consume large amounts of carbohydrates to activate her quirk.

Questions to ask next time:

—What deductions did she make to locate Dabi?

He flipped through a few pages absentmindedly, skimming over the drawings and notes of people he had met over the past few months. Each page was filled with details: costumes, abilities, combat strategies. But he knew exactly which section he wanted to reach.

Finally, his eyes landed on the part of the notebook he had dedicated to Uraraka. The drawings were more detailed, more carefully done than the others. He had made notes about her quirk, Zero Gravity, with descriptions full of admiration.

—She can eliminate the gravity of any object she touches... even things as big as a car or building pillars. —He pointed to a small note in the margin—. Could she do it with a commercial airplane? —He chuckled softly at the question—. I wish I could help her with the nausea she feels when she overuses her quirk...

But what held his attention the most were the small personal observations he had written about her. In the margins of the quirk data, there were more intimate words, written almost shyly.

—Kind, funny, smart... cute... radiant...

Midoriya left the notebook open in front of him, staring at the drawing of Uraraka. He had spent time capturing that expression, that warm smile that filled him with light. He rested his head on his arms, blushing, as he glanced at the pink and orange sunset rising outside his window.

He sighed, feeling that familiar pressure in his chest, the same one he had felt so many times when he thought about her. There was so much he wanted to say to her, but the words seemed to vanish before they could leave his mouth. He glanced at the drawing again, noticing how the soft pencil strokes were trying to capture more than just her appearance: they were trying to reflect what she meant to him, what her presence ignited in his heart.

He decided he might need to organize his thoughts a little, so he grabbed his phone and set a timer for nine minutes. Just that—nine minutes to allow himself to think about her openly, without the fear of getting completely lost in his feelings.

It didn't take long before his mind took him to that memory he'd been revisiting so much lately: that cool night, just after the rain, under the moonlight, when they had confessed their feelings to each other.

—Could you wait a little for my answer? —Uraraka had asked, with that serious but sweet expression, standing in front of him while the silver moonlight reflected off the puddles on the ground.

At that moment, he had let go of her hand, too nervous to maintain the contact. But in his mind, over and over again, he returned to that moment. Only now he knew exactly what he would've done: he wouldn't have let go. He wouldn't have stepped back. Instead, he would've wanted to gently hold her by the shoulders, look into her eyes with determination... and kiss her. Every time he imagined it, his heart raced, pounding with the excitement of "what could've been if only he had been more resolute." A kiss, just a small touch of their lips, would've been enough to calm that uncertainty. Because even though that night she had said she liked him, he couldn't help but feel insecure now. The kiss on the corner of his lips that she had given him back then wasn't enough anymore.

"What if she changed her mind?" he often thought, biting his lower lip with a mix of anxiety and hope.

He didn't long for a deep, extravagant kiss like the ones that sometimes sneaked into his dreams, which, contrary to what one might think, actually tormented him quite a bit. One of those would probably give him a heart attack for sure. No, being more realistic, maybe he just wished for a gentle kiss, one that mainly conveyed his feelings. Sweet feelings for her. Because that's what he felt most of the time: gratitude, tenderness, and a desire to protect her.

Maybe at night his unconscious mind or curiosity betrayed him terribly with more daring dreams, filling him with tingling sensations and warmth that he wasn't ready to process yet, only putting him on edge. But when the day came, after feeling guilty, he remembered those more manageable emotions and tried to focus on them.

He recalled that Uraraka had told him she had waited to talk about her feelings because she didn't want to distract him. And that meant a lot to him, because she had put him before herself, and now that he was in the same position, waiting to do something with his own feelings, he wanted to be like her and not distract her from her own path to becoming the great hero he knew she could be, though the truth was, she already was.

She had saved him in the darkest moment of his life, when doubts and fear had consumed him. And after that, she had stayed by his side, shielding him from loneliness. Midoriya was deeply grateful for that. Every time he breathed in the fresh air outside, felt the sun on his hands, or watched the breeze move the leaves in the trees, he couldn't help but think of her. How, just like those small details in nature, Uraraka filled him with inspiration and determination to keep moving forward, without giving up, even under the pressure of the U.A. entrance exam.

He wanted to kiss her not just because he liked her, not just because he found her incredibly cute. He wanted to kiss her because all of that together told him that he already... already...

The sound of his phone's alarm pulled him out of his little daydream, and he couldn't help but sigh again. That's what he did lately. Just sigh over these feelings he was holding back for now. He closed his hero analysis notebook, tucked it into his drawer, and left his room.

Hawks sat in front of Rei Todoroki in the small room. The light coming through the windows felt cold, filtered by white curtains that barely let the sun in. Rei, frail and pale, lay on the bed with an expression that blended exhaustion and a quiet resignation. Hawks knew he was sitting across from a woman who had endured more than most people could ever bear.

—It's not my intention to be insensitive, and I know you've been through a lot lately —Hawks began, his tone gentle but direct—, but I'd like to ask you a few questions about anything you might have seen or heard during your captivity.

Rei looked at him with dim, almost vacant eyes, but slowly nodded, as if the weight of the days had drained her of all energy.

—This could help us find the people who took you —Hawks continued, leaning forward slightly—. And that, in turn, would ensure the safety of your children. I assume that's something you care about.

Rei nodded again, even more weakly this time. Hawks allowed himself a small smile, a mix of relief and admiration.

—I knew you were brave —he commented, trying to lighten the mood a little, but before he could stop himself, he muttered something under his breath—. Especially staying married to Endeavor.

Rei gave a faint smile, barely noticeable, just a slight curve of her lips, and Hawks found himself watching her perhaps longer than he should have. Realizing this, he quickly covered his mouth, pretending to be deep in thought.

—Alright. Now I'll show you some photos —he said, attempting to return to the main topic while pulling some images from his folder—. I'd like you to tell me if you recognize any of them.

Rei examined the photos one by one. Shigaraki, a man with a white mask, and other villains. After a few seconds, she shook her head slowly.

Hawks frowned for a moment but quickly regained his composure.

—Really? —there was a touch of disappointment in his voice, but he pressed on—. Did they ever let you see any of your family members? I know it sounds strange, but lately, it's been common for people with quirks that allow them to change their appearance or create illusions to be involved with criminals. Maybe someone you know asked you questions or tried to manipulate you.

Rei, her voice barely above a whisper, replied:

—I only saw my husband and my youngest son when they sat me in a room in front of a TV screen. But I couldn't hear what they were saying, and they couldn't hear me either.

Hawks nodded, recalling reports about the captors' broadcast of their demands.

—Yes, I know —Hawks replied—. That was the broadcast they did to make their demands. But besides that, did you see anything else unusual? Were you ever with anyone else?

Rei shook her head again, her expression remaining empty, emotionless.

—I was kept in a room alone the entire time —she explained—. Once a day, they passed food to me through a small slot at the bottom of the door. Sometimes, they gave me waffles. I suppose one of them felt a little guilty for keeping me there. They would even draw a smiley face on the waffles from time to time.

That last detail immediately caught Hawks' attention. He tried to hide his surprise, but something about that odd display of humanity from her captors unsettled him.

—Were the waffles at least any good? —he asked, trying to keep the tone light.

Rei, to his surprise, smiled faintly and replied:

—Yes. They were the best waffles I've ever had.

But as soon as she said that, she covered her mouth with both hands, as if regretting the confession.

—Don't worry —Hawks said with a soft smile—. It's completely normal. Sometimes, in situations of extreme stress, people find small moments of happiness. Like prisoners of war who look up at the blue sky through a tiny hole in their cell roof and describe it as the most beautiful sky they've ever seen.

Rei slowly uncovered her mouth, her smile fading as she returned to her melancholic, sad expression.

Hawks stood up, putting his small notebook away in his jacket.

—I think that's enough for today —he announced—. I'm afraid I'll need to come back in a few days, just to see if you remember anything else. I appreciate your cooperation.

Rei nodded again, her voice barely a whisper.

—That's fine.

Hawks gave her one last glance before heading toward the door. There was something about Rei's fragility that moved him, making him think of his own mother, of his childhood, and of how he'd been raised in a world where morality was often blurred.

—You know —he said, pausing at the door— I've always thought that no one is truly good or bad. Even though society works hard to make a clear distinction between following the rules or breaking them, between heroes and villains. Personally, I think I can be pretty bad, but people justify it, and sometimes I feel like a bird in a cage.

—I think I know... what you mean.

—I thought so. That's why I said it —Hawks smiled before leaving.

Twice pondered as he stared ahead:

'What is this? An attempt at a love story between a young hero and an abused wife?'

Toshinori settled into his luxurious chair, one that, despite its comfort, always felt somewhat foreign to him. He was grateful for the hospitality of his American friend, but this kind of ostentatious lifestyle didn't suit him. His mind wandered through memories until he suddenly heard a light knock on the door. He smiled, recognizing that anxious knock, and stood up.

—Come in —he said softly as he watched Midoriya enter the room, a mix of awe and nervousness on his face, as always.

—Oh, hello, sir —Midoriya began, glancing around the space—. For a moment, I thought I had made a mistake. I never thought I would live in such a... lavish place. But your butler confirmed you were here and let me in.

Toshinori let out a soft laugh.

—Actually, this isn't my home. An old friend from America, who lived here in Japan for a while, nearly forced me to stay here as a favor for something I did years ago. But soon, I'll be moving to a more modest place. Something cozier now that I have a new job.

Midoriya, with his characteristic curiosity, smiled.

—I suppose you'll tell me it's a secret if I ask about that job.

Toshinori squinted, a playful expression on his face.

—For now, it is, but you'll find out in due time, young Midoriya.

They both sat in the plush chairs that adorned the living room. The air between them filled with a warm kind of comfort, like two old friends, even though their relationship went beyond mere friendship. There was something deeply paternal in the way Toshinori looked at Midoriya, a desire to protect him from the world, from the shadows he knew all too well.

—I heard from Tsukauchi that you managed to find the mother of young Todoroki —Toshinori began, his voice filled with admiration—. You made some very astute deductions and carried out impressive fieldwork. I must say, once again, you've surprised me, young Midoriya... but then again, I expected nothing less from you.

Midoriya blushed slightly and looked down at his hands.

—Actually, I had a lot of help and... too much luck —he said, trying to downplay his achievements, as he always did.

Toshinori raised his hands in the air as if scolding a child.

—Too much modesty! It makes no sense! —he exclaimed, smiling widely—. You must learn to recognize your own merits and celebrate them when due.

—Alright —Midoriya noted in a small pocket notebook, and Toshinori let out a small huff of exasperation.

The atmosphere remained light for a moment until Midoriya, with a more serious expression, spoke again.

—By the way, sir, I've noticed you've seemed a bit distant these days. Is everything okay? —Midoriya asked, somewhat worried.

The question hit Toshinori unexpectedly. Images of secret plans that Hawks had recently shown him flickered in his mind, memories of the underground bunker he had explored in the dark, illuminated only by his flashlight. He had been investigating... things he couldn't tell Midoriya. Not yet.

—Yes, I've been busy with some matters. But it's nothing you should worry about —he replied, briefly diverting his gaze.

Midoriya frowned, visibly concerned. His eyes reflected that innocence and determination Toshinori had learned to admire for so long.

—It's just that... you've done so much for me without asking for anything in return —Midoriya continued, his voice lowering—. And for once, I would like to help you. When we first met, I was really lost. So if there's anything, even the smallest thing, I can do for you... please don't hesitate to tell me.

Toshinori tightened his hand on his knee. Midoriya had always been like this: willing to help, even if it meant shouldering a heavy burden. "Should I tell him now?" he thought. No. It was too much of a load for someone so young. He knew Midoriya would do anything for him, even if it meant putting himself at risk or getting hurt, and that was the last thing he wanted.

In his mind, he recalled when he had first met him:

'I think after my father left home, I began to think of All Might as a kind of father figure.'

Those words, spoken with such sincerity, had left a mark on him. And then, almost as if scolding him, he remembered Nighteye's cold voice in his mind:

'Totally foolish and sentimental' seemed to reproach him again.

Toshinori shook off those thoughts and covered his mouth, averting his gaze. But finally, after a long moment of silence, he spoke.

—If there's something you could do, young Midoriya...

—What is it? —Midoriya asked, expectantly leaning slightly forward in his seat.

Toshinori let his hand drop and gave him a warm smile, one that spoke of affection, gratitude, and a deep connection.

—Eat with me whenever I ask you —he said, pulling out a small bento box wrapped in a blue cloth with white bunnies.

Midoriya didn't fully understand, but he returned the smile.

—Of course, sir. Always.

The dim light of a lamp flickered in the corner of the room, casting unsettling shadows over the figures occupying the space. In the center, Shigaraki surveyed the area with a barely contained expression of satisfaction, his pale fingers drumming on the arm of the chair.

—So we keep the hostage, and now we have an infiltrator with the number two hero —he murmured, allowing each word to linger in the air before adding—. Well thought out, Kurogiri.

Kurogiri, in his usual calm posture, nodded gently. The air around him always seemed denser, as if a curtain of smoke floated around him, enveloping him in a halo of mystery.

—Besides, we're hiding right under their noses —Dabi remarked, his playful tone contrasting with the gravity of the situation—. Endeavor will never suspect that we're in the house he bought for his beloved Shoto.

Shigaraki showed irritation.

—Just because everything went well doesn't mean you can be so careless. Because of your negligence, I had to leave my home —he rebuked, his eyes burning with a mix of anger and disapproval.

Dabi, in his eternal indifference, merely smiled wearily, but before he could respond, Kurogiri intervened, calm as always.

—Forget it for now, Tomura Shigaraki —his tone was low, almost as if trying not to stir tensions—. Think of it this way: now Dabi has no choice but to help you with your plan, and besides... you've been saying for four years that you wanted to leave that house.

Shigaraki took a deep breath, accepting the truth behind those words. His old home, a place he had come to loathe, was filled with memories of his own torment. Perhaps, deep down, it had been a relief to leave it behind.

—Yeah, that's true —he finally admitted, though there was a hint of bitterness in his voice.

The atmosphere in the room shifted as Twice's frantic voice interrupted the conversation.

—Hey! Hey! —he called out, raising both hands as if caught in the middle of a crisis—. What am I supposed to do if Endeavor wants to get intimate with his wife? I definitely didn't sign up for that!

The comment elicited a mix of reactions in the room. Dabi, with his unflappable calm, allowed himself a small sarcastic laugh before responding.

—Don't worry —he said in the same cold tone that always accompanied him—. For Endeavor, his wife was just a means to have an heir who could surpass All Might. I seriously doubt he'll get affectionate with her. Not in a million years.

Twice, though relieved by the response, couldn't help his exaggerated nature.

—Phew, what a relief! But how do you know all that? —he questioned, his eyes wide open, more anxious than curious.

Dabi averted his gaze, his eyes shining with a dark, almost nostalgic hue as his voice lowered.

—Let's just say I spent some time closely observing the Todorokis.

Shigaraki looked at Dabi with an arched eyebrow. That phrase left a strange sensation in the air.

—On the other hand —Dabi continued— if her son Shoto or either of the other two ask you questions and you don't know how to respond, just start crying. They won't find it weird after what happened.

—How depressing! I hope it doesn't end up affecting me.

Author's Notes.-

Your comments are always welcome! Thank you so much for reading, following, and liking. It always makes me smile.