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“What do you mean you changed your mind?”
“Exactly what I said, I’m afraid. My old sidekick, Sir Nighteye, introduced me to his intern, and... he made me see what he sees in him. He’s a young man with a huge heart and amazing potential, ready to graduate but for his age! Already he’s surpassing professional heroes!”
“I see.”
“So I’m afraid I can no longer pass One For All to you, Young Midoriya. I’m truly sorry; I hope you can understand.”
“Does he have a quirk?”
“Young Mirio? Why, yes he does! A most fascinating one too! Permeation, I believe!”
“Yes,” Izuku murmurs. “I see. I cannot become a hero without a quirk.”
“Young Midoriya-“
“Thank you for training me these last six months, All Might. I won’t tell anyone about your - his - quirk.”
“I appreciate that - Young Midoriya, wait!”
“Izuku,” Shouta prompts, and Izuku jerks himself out of his thoughts.
“S-Shouta?”
“Where did you go?”
Izuku ducks his head. “The rooftop,” he says softly. That damn rooftop, the one which has his new nightmare. It waits for him at night, when he closes his eyes and tries to sleep. Even when he’s awake, Izuku sometimes feels the cold air, the wind rushing past his face.
The edge.
He knows it won’t mean anything to Shouta, except for maybe what Hizashi has told him about... about the night he tried to kill himself.
In all honesty, Izuku hasn’t thought much of it himself. He doesn’t want to admit he failed.
Failed to kill himself, or failed in giving up, Izuku hasn’t decided yet.
He definitely failed as a son, however. If he hadn’t, his mother might still love him.
“Izuku,” Shouta says softly again, and Izuku drags his attention back. He’s... not quite sure why the man is so insistent on -
Oh.
He asked what Izuku wanted for dinner.
“I’m not hungry,” Izuku says quietly.
Shouta tilts his head gently, his grip on Izuku’s knee equally kind. Izuku thinks it might be the only thing holding him down, keeping him sitting on the couch and not drifting. “Do you think you could eat something anyway?”
Izuku shakes his head, and even that’s almost too much effort. He can barely hold himself up, and every one of his limbs feels heavy, like he’s been cast in cold marble. “I’m tired,” he tells Shouta, Shouta with his dark eyes.
His dark eyes that are nothing like the void of All Might’s. For all his eyes are a vibrant blue, there’s darkness there that Izuku can’t escape from.
Shouta’s eyes are dark, but he doesn’t hide. He doesn’t conceal what he’s thinking, he just says it bluntly.
Izuku much prefers his dark eyes to those of All Might.
“Izuku,” Shouta murmurs. “How about a smoothie? Much less effort.”
Izuku is tired.
But with one of Shouta’s hands on his knee, the other cupping his cheek and helping hold his head up, Izuku thinks maybe he can try.
“Okay,” he whispers.
Shouta smiles.