Archive of Our Own

[one]

Most people didn't know why Miyoko Ito didn't talk. The kids at school speculated — of course they did — and their opinions could be rather fanciful at times. Some theories included that they were cursed by a Kami, or a quirk, to never speak again. Others weren't even sure the other kid had a tongue. Teachers had more logical beliefs, mostly and very simply the likely answer — that they were deaf.

A very small, tiny few were still alive that knew Miyoko had not spoken a word since long before they'd lost the ability to hear. And most of them were in prison now. But even they probably did not know why the child had gone silent.

The Yamadas themselves had assumed, correctly, that the child's mutism was likely from trauma, though there was so much trauma to unpack with the child, they couldn't begin to guess where it had all started.

It had been logical at the time.

Equally as timid as they were hyperactive, around adults who were far too strict, had left Miyoko with an inability to find the correct words fast enough and a stutter. Their father had never been pleased with that and had made it violently clear. Miyoko had decided then that fixing their stutter would take more effort than just simply not speaking at all. But then nothing had gotten better and they simply never trusted anyone enough to use their voice, to risk the pain that they had learned came from speech.

But maybe things were finally looking up for them. Maybe things were getting better. It had been a few months now since they'd been taken in by the Yamadas. Things were still rocky, things were probably going to be rocky for a very long time, but at the very least Miyoko had come out of their self-imposed isolation in their room. They'd started allowing Hizashi and their parents to teach them sign language, eager to learn and interact with the family in a way that didn't absolutely terrify them. They happily joined in on family dinner now and eagerly played video games with Hizashi.

And no one forced them or bullied them to speak. If anything, the household was pretty lenient about speech in general, considering three out of four members of the family had some form of hearing loss. It was never an expectation.

All in all, Miyoko did feel safe, for the first time in their life.

Perhaps that was why today was different.

They weren't sure exactly why they stared longingly at the doorway before entering, running a hand over the house's entryway as they opened the door. It was just that something had crossed their mind on the walk from school, a realization dawning on them.

"I'm home!"

The words fell out of their mouth so easily, one would never guess that it was the first time they'd spoken in over five years.

Miyoko didn't look up yet, shifting around to try and remove their shoes. When they did finally look up, they were met by three sets of eyes, faces in various states of shock. Their own features twisted with confusion at first until slowly it caught up with them what they had done. Miyoko clapped a hand over their mouth, panic stricken, their heart pounding in their chest.

Hizashi moved first, because of course, of course he would understand, the moment they'd covered their mouth he had realized what was going through their head. Talking meant danger, talking meant getting hurt. He didn't really know how to be hesitant, even when he tried, but Miyoko managed to not flinch back when he came close.

It's okay. He signed. You're not in trouble.

Seeing his signs, the adults caught on to what was going on and they too moved to approach them. They were more hesitant, not wanting to crowd them. It was Miyoko's turn to be shocked. First by what Hizashi had said and then by the hug that their foster sibling pulled them into. But they'd become so used to Hizashi's emotions, so trusting, that it was easy to relax into the embrace. The Yamadas soon joined to create one large group hug around the child.

It was warm. It was safe.

It was home.

[two]

Things didn't change all that much with their mutism. Outside of the home they continued to remain entirely silent. Inside the home, they would speak sometimes, but it was still rare. In passing usually, maybe to announce they were home or that dinner was good. Little things like that. Short, sweet sentences and nothing more. Miyoko couldn't entirely rid themselves of almost a decade of the chains that silenced them.

And that was okay, they discovered.

The family took what they could get, and to them it seemed like more than enough to know that they child felt safe enough to speak at all. It continued that no one pressured them to speak, even after hearing that they could. There was always an open invitation, but they weren't required to attend.

But after a year had gone and passed, the child realized that they actually wanted to try a little harder to speak. Not to those on the outside, no, that was still way too unsafe. But to the people closest to them, perhaps they could manage more.

Miyoko started practicing in the mirror when they thought everyone was fast asleep. It was difficult since they couldn't hear what they were saying well, so they couldn't really attest to if they still stuttered or not. Or if their speech was any sort of intelligible. But they tried…

Hizashi didn't say anything to ever indicate he heard them at night or suspected what they were doing, but at some point he offhandedly mentioned that Miyoko could use voice recordings to see if they could hear their own voice with their quirk.

And they did try that, secretly recording a few tests of their voice in the safety of their bedroom. Finding the signal with their quirk, they had heard their voice for the first time. Kind of. The radio waves didn't form into sound in their head really, but it was enough to confirm for them that they would be understood.

It was good practice. Just talking to themselves, recording the little voice memos. It made their voice less hoarse, and clearer. It was a few months after their own twelfth birthday when they decided to finally show their progress off.

Dinner had already been cleaned up, the kids finishing the dishes together. And now the family had retired to the living room. The news was playing on the television. Kaito and Asahi were on the couch, leaning into each other sleepily. Hizashi was laid out on the floor reading through some English music magazine. Miyoko had started off idly trying to read over Hizashi's shoulder, pointing out pictures and having the boy explain what they were with animated hands. And then something in their mind told them right now was the best time to say what they'd been practicing for weeks now.

Miyoko stood, hovering awkwardly before they made a little noise in their throat that they hoped was loud enough to get everyone's attention. It did. Because Miyoko making any noise at all was still rare enough to be interesting and celebrated, even if quietly.

"I…" They felt the words leave their mouth, slow and hesitant. A deep breath, a gathering of courage. "I wanted to say 'thank you'. For taking me in and caring for me and making me feel safe. I've never felt safe before."

It pained them to admit, to remember that a little over a year ago they had never known a life like this, had never imagined they ever would. Miyoko hesitantly looked over the three of their family members. There was an array of emotions on everyone's faces. Hizashi had that calm, solemn look — a reminder that they were from similar worlds. Asahi looked hurt, face twisted uncomfortably as he probably remembered the state he had found Miyoko in all those months ago. Kaito was the calmest, as expected, his features soft and regarding them fondly.

Miyoko tried to smile, to assuage their worries that this conversation was going somewhere horrible. It might not have made it entirely to their lips, despite their attempt. Their fingers fiddled with the ends of their shirt, head dropping for a second as they tried once more to collect their courage.

They lifted their head again and their smile got a little bit stronger.

"I love you all, very much. That's all. I just wanted to say that."

Asahi's features softened and he grinned widely at them. He reached out and tapped their nose gently.

"We love you too, Miyoko."

Miyoko's smile grew wide in a mirror of their dad's at the affectionate sign that created their name sign now. Little bird. Kaito ruffled their hair, a softer but no less fond, smile on his face. Hizashi was also grinning, green eyes glittering with a knowing look.

Miyoko basked in the light of their family's joy and love.

And prayed it would never end.

[three]

They didn't cry at the funeral.

Maybe it was because they didn't know the boy the way everyone else did. They had feelings for him, they were sure, but they weren't as sensible. They weren't as close. Or maybe it was because they simply didn't know how to cry correctly. Emotions just weren't their strong suit. Never had been.

In Miyoko's defense, they thought it was better this way. Someone had to be the stone wall to Hizashi's crumbling parapet and Aizawa was nowhere near capable of that right now.

Miyoko watched forlornly as their brother tried to stifle his choking sobs, one hand clutched over his mouth to keep his quirk from radiating out. To his left, even Aizawa was crying, though nowhere near as vocally as Hizashi. It terrified Miyoko a little bit, to see the two so uncharacteristically upset. They'd seen Hizashi cry before, sure, but not like this. This was different. And Aizawa was like them, his emotions so personally unidentifiable that he rarely showed them.

But their best friend had just been killed — how else were the two supposed to react?

They gave Hizashi their hand to hold throughout most of the ceremony, only letting go so the boy could make his way to the altar and pay his respects. Aizawa was beside him. The two paid their respects together. The last time the three friends would be physically together.

Miyoko was so used to seeing their brother and his friends as larger than life. Heroes in training. Bright lights in the darkness. But right now the two looked so small and young and Miyoko remembered that they were still children too.

Miyoko went up alone, bowing their head in front of the closed casket and pictures of Oboro Shirakumo. They had known the boy in passing, he had been a regular visitor to the Yamada household along with Aizawa. And as any little sibling was wont to do, they had watched and followed often, curious to see what their seniors were up to.

Shirakumo had always been kind to them, never begrudging the few times that they tagged along with the group when Hizashi was babysitting. Miyoko thought the older boy was probably their first crush, if that was the word for what they felt when he smiled at them. A silly, childish little thing that they had kept to themselves at all times.

It hurt to realize he was gone. Forever. That their brother and Aizawa were always going to have this hole in their heart now. That nothing would ever be the same.

Miyoko lit the incense and nodded their head to Shirakumo's parents as condolences before sitting back down. A part of them hated that the tears never came, hated a part of themselves that they couldn't control. As if hating themselves would make it all better.

Later that night, they found Hizashi crying alone on the balcony. They could see he was watching videos on his phone, a living, breathing Shirakumo smiling back at him. Miyoko slipped back to their room and grabbed their own phone before quietly stepping out onto the balcony and taking a seat beside Hizashi.

They nudged him for attention before passing their phone over to him. Hizashi blinked at them, eyes red and puffy from crying. Miyoko nudged him again, pointing at the video ready to be played. Hizashi played the video.

Are you sure about this, Miyo-kun?

Miyoko remembered nodding emphatically at Shirakumo and the camera shook in their hands when they did. Shirakumo's smile had widened with their surety and he stuck his hand out in a big 'thumb's up' at the camera.

Hey 'zashi! Miyo-kun tells me you're feeling down in the dumps this week, being sick and all. So we thought it'd be cool if I did a little video to make you feel better! We're going to explore the city together, okay! Let's go get Shouta!

And they had. Aizawa had avoided the camera as much as physically possible, but he showed up a few times when Miyoko managed to catch him. Miyoko had spent the entire day recording Shirakumo and Aizawa's escapades and commentary to bring home to a very miserably sick Hizashi.

Okay! Hope it felt like you were here with us today, Hizashi! Can't wait until you feel better and we can cause a bunch of trouble together again, alright! I love you, 'zashi!

Miyoko had watched the blue-haired boy's features grow bright red and he'd gone to fight them for the phone, the video becoming nothing more than a flailing of arms.

You have to edit that out, Miyo-kun! Come on, gimme!

In the distance you could hear Miyoko and Aizawa's soft laughter, only barely overwhelmed by Shirakumo's as Aizawa told them to keep it. The last thing the video caught was Shirakumo play fighting with Aizawa and there was nothing but laughter in the air.

Hizashi still had tears in his eyes, but he was smiling weakly now.

You never showed me this…He signed after a moment of silence.

Forgot. You were feeling so much better when I got home. And I could never edit that part out, so Shirakumo didn't want me to show it to you.

I'm glad you didn't. Edit it, I mean.

Miyoko took in a deep breath. "I'm sorry he's gone," they said.

Hizashi sighed. "Me too."

Miyoko slipped their hand around their brother's and squeezed tightly.

They watched the video together a few more times, Hizashi eventually falling asleep to Shirakumo's laughter.

[four]

If anyone was concerned that Miyoko's closest companion was, by most definitions, a villain, no one mentioned it. To be fair, it was probably not as obvious to outsiders that didn't know him that well.

At worst, most people saw the hero student interacting with a local homeless man and just opted to keep their mouths shut. Miyoko was glad that they did. They didn't feel like having to defend their actions to anyone. But they would, very vehemently, defend their friend. Homeless or not. Villain or not.

It was Keisuke's twentieth birthday.

He, of course, had no one to spend it with except Miyoko and if not for the other's insistence, Keisuke probably wouldn't celebrate it at all. But Miyoko absolutely refused to let him get away with not celebrating the milestone.

Miyoko dragged him out to Shibuya, of all places. Through crowds and street food selections and video game stores and photo booths. Keisuke let them and Miyoko knew he was just happy to hang out and not be alone. Eventually, they were sitting alone together in a park eating food they'd picked up and sorting through their photos.

Get rid of this one. My smile's weird.

Keisuke smiled fondly. I like it. It's very you.

Miyoko shoved him, but watched the other place the picture in the pocket of his vest, close to his heart. Miyoko slurped happily at their noodles with a contented sigh.

So, final year of hero school. You're really going to go through with it, huh?

His expression was hard to read, caught somewhere between genuine curiosity and the faintest hint of jealousy. Miyoko knew he didn't mean anything by it. Keisuke's opinions on heroes were understandably complicated, as were Miyoko's. They were two sides of the same coin in some regards. Both haunted by quirks and pasts they didn't want. But they were taking completely different paths. Miyoko knew what they wanted to do, what they were best suited for. Keisuke didn't have the privilege of that surety.

It's just what I'm good at.

Don't lie to me, or yourself, Miyoko. You just hope it will make up for all the harm your father caused.

Miyoko frowned deeply. They knew it, subconsciously of course, but it stung to have it pointed out.

Keisuke didn't relent. It won't take away the guilt you feel.

Miyoko eyed him dangerously, anger present in their curt signing.

You're being a real dick today. If you didn't want to come out you could've just said, not use it as an excuse to bully me.

He sighed. Sorry.

They watched him hesitate, hands frozen. I'm just worried. What if you get hurt? What if you die like your brother's friend?

Miyoko pursed their lips. Shirakumo's death did not strike them as painfully as it still did Hizashi but it was still an awful weight. And perhaps the death had driven them more towards heroism than their father ever had.

People die. At least as a hero I can make my death worth something.

Keisuke didn't respond, picking idly at his food. Now it was Miyoko's turn to hesitate. They had a suspicion there was something else underneath it all.

Kei…what's really bothering you?

He put his food down and stared at them. Now his expression was completely clear. Fear.

What if I hurt you?

Miyoko almost laughed. You would never.

Keisuke wasn't amused. You know I can't always control it. I'm a villain, Miko. One day you might have to fight me.

They reached out, grasping both their hands around his shoulders and shaking him gently.

"You're not a villain! Not to me, okay?" Their words were so firm, so resolute, they needed him to hear them say it. "You're my best friend. You would never hurt me on purpose. A real villain wouldn't care."

They watched him huff out an exaggerated breath and nod his head. Miyoko accepted that and let him go, relaxing at his side.

Anyway, if we fought I would totally win.

The tension in the air broke as Keisuke started laughing. Miyoko couldn't hear him but it was so obvious that it was a full belly laugh. He shoved Miyoko to the side and they teetered back to slam into him before leaning against his shoulder.

"You're my best friend," they repeated, softly.

Keisuke wrapped an arm around their shoulder and pulled them close. His unspoken words hovering in the familiar touch.

And you're mine.

[five]

It was their first time working with Aizawa —or well, Eraserhead. Miyoko had to congratulate themselves on being completely normal about it. They had idolized Aizawa for a long time, probably soon after he started visiting the Yamada household regularly, but even more so as his hero career carried on.

As someone interested in being an underground hero, Miyoko had known the pathways to hunt down information on the man's career not readily available to the public. And now that they were a licensed hero themselves, Eraserhead's accomplishments were much easier to hear about. At least in the circles they kept to.

He was everything they hoped they could be.

It had been two years since their own graduation. Two years since Relay the Signal Hero had officially stepped onto the underground stage. Relay was nowhere near close to being a well-known name, even among the underground heroes. But they didn't mind too much, they weren't even remotely interested in the fame those in the spotlight enjoyed. They went where they were needed. If that was to a collapsed building for search and rescue or a secret warehouse where the police needed backup — it didn't matter.

Miyoko had listened carefully to the briefing. The warehouse was a suspected hub for quirk traffickers. The building had a complicated set up and it was not in a way that would allow a safe police take-down without knowing where any potential captives were in advance. And thermal imaging had not been enough confirmation. Eraserhead and Relay's jobs were to get in, confirm and report back the location of all captives within the warehouse, before joining the police in an orchestrated attack on the villains from the inside.

After the briefing, Eraserhead fitted himself with a tactical mic and wandered over to where Miyoko was checking their own equipment.

"I see you ended up getting hearing aids after all," he said, pointing at the small little processor attached behind their ears.

Miyoko nodded, a smile flitting across their features as they signed.

Yeah. Graduation present.

Aizawa might've chuckled, it was hard to tell with him. It might've just been a grunt.

"Still don't talk much though, I see."

He nodded, mostly to himself. "Good. I asked for you personally because I hoped that was still the case. Needed someone I could communicate with in silence."

Miyoko had to hide their surprise and honestly tried not to feel like it was a kind of praise. Still, there was a bit of warm joy in their chest at the knowledge that they'd been asked for specifically, by Aizawa of all people. They were going to remain completely normal about this.

The two heroes entered from an open window on the roof. No one noticed them up in the rafters. People rarely ever looked up, particularly in buildings like this. Up there, they could see just how complicated the warehouse floor plan really was. It was like a maze. If they weren't looking from above it all, they would very easily get lost. The two of them split up for the time being. Eraserhead took the south end of the warehouse and Relay took the north. Crawling around on the rafters, the heroes pinged back the number of captives in each area, little more than morse code over the radio waves. Just a bunch of beeps and noise.

The police had no confirmation but they suspected the gang had a member who could tap in to their communications. Outside the warehouse, at their base of operations, the police communications to each other on a different channel were distant enough to be safe. But any communication within the warehouse itself was a danger. Meaning Eraserhead and Relay could only communicate with each other via sign language and other hand signals. With their quirk though, Relay could access all radio communications from the base and pass the messages on to Eraserhead. If anyone did tune into their communications out of the warehouse, all they would hear is beeping. It was unlikely the villains would know morse code and even if they did, there were no other messages to explain what the numbers meant.

Eventually, Relay and Eraserhead met back in the middle of the warehouse. Between the two of them, they'd accounted for thirty-five captives spread throughout the warehouse. And at the same time they'd narrowed down an entry location for the police that would limit any potential injuries to innocents. Relay's job at this point was to start back on the opposite end from the entry point and direct hostages out of the building while Eraserhead and the police tried to catch and sequester the villains.

Everything seemed to go smoothly at first.

The two heroes made it back to their new starting points and pinged out their locations to the police. The police reached their position outside. And the engage ping was sent back.

Relay jumped to the ground behind one of the villains standing guard and took him down in silence. They waited a few seconds until the alarm was sounded and the other villains in the area took off running towards the police infiltration. Relay silently made their way through a crowd of children and young adults, offering a gentle smile as they removed chains and quirk inhibitors.

A little radio contraption attached to their chest, their transceiver, announced directions with a calm, automated voice that did not belong to them, encouraging the captives to make their way to the door that Relay pointed towards. Older kids hurriedly gathered up the younger and made their way out while Relay moved forward into the next room, this one smaller.

Here there were only three captives and their guard was still standing stock still among them. His back however was turned away from the captives and Relay, waiting for the police he thought would inevitably come. A child looked at Relay and they placed a finger to their lips, making quick work of the chains on the children's ankles. Relay had almost managed to get them out without alerting the guard, but he must have seen them out of the corner of his eye.

Relay tensed as the villain turned, rushing at them. The hero shoved the last child out of the room, their transceiver yelling out a loud "Go!" that might've sounded oddly like Present Mic, and slammed the door shut. Relay dodged out of the way with one step, hand darting out to grab their opponent's collar and slam him downwards in another.

Their quirk wasn't really suited for combat, at least not in the way they used it and they refused to use it any other way. They would not be their father. But, their hands-on combat skills were nothing to sniff at either. Still, they were a young hero and unfortunately, young heroes could make stupid mistakes. Like thinking they only had one opponent.

With all their focus centered on keeping the first villain from going after the released captives, Relay didn't notice the second villain sneaking up on them until it was too late. Hands grabbed them from behind and painful vibrations radiated through their body, through their bones. Pain radiated in their ears, their hearing aids conducting all the vibrations inwards. They spun around to free themselves from the second villain, only to feel something incredibly sharp pierce them from behind.

The vibrations stopped, but new pain erupted in their back. Based on the individual number of blades or objects that Relay felt piercing them, they assumed the first villain had used his quirk. There were just far too many at once. They looked down to see at least one large pointed spine had made it straight through them before it slipped away and out of their flesh. The villains ran past them and escaped through the door.

Relay tried to turn back around and chase after the escaping villains, but they collapsed forward, pain shrieking through them like lightning. They dropped to their knees first and then completely on their side, flush against the dirty warehouse floor.

In the distance they heard the faint sounds of combat and smelled the telltale sign of fire. Radio signals reached out to them and it was like they could taste them but it was so very hard to send anything out. Focus.

All hostages accounted for.

Relay smiled weakly. Good.

Where's Relay?

Relay pulled, just barely, on the signal in their mind. Like plucking a koto string. It was too much to send a mass ping to everyone, so they put all their focus on the last radio that went off. They weren't even sure the signal made it, realizing all the radio signals had faded into static as their mind lost focus.

For the first time in years, Miyoko felt like that scared little kid again, barely surviving their father's attack. Everything hurt. Everything was burning. They were pretty sure they were dying and they were completely alone. It had been a recurring nightmare for so long that Miyoko almost believed they could close their eyes and just wake up. But when they opened their eyes again, the scenery was the same. A lonely warehouse floor, their blood mixing with the dust.

It broke them a little and they felt tears welling up in their eyes. Though it could've just been from the smoke. Darkness was forming at the edges of their vision and they shut their eyes again, feeling the world spin underneath them.

"Relay!"

Miyoko felt a hand on their shoulder, turning them over. Heard a sharp inhale. The hand shook them a little, not gently, but not roughly either. Miyoko let out a groan.

"Look at me! Hey, open your eyes!"

They followed the command, eyes slowly blinking open, blearily trying to focus. They saw Aizawa hovering over them, face sweaty and soot-covered. His face looked strained but calm as he gazed over them, but his eyes held a panic that Miyoko had never seen before.

"….'zawa…" they muttered out, words slurring, forgetting that right now they were heroes and there were other names they should be using.

Aizawa had never heard them speak before and Miyoko wouldn't have been sure he'd heard them at all if not for the faint surprise on his features. They'd become aware that their breathing had grown heavier, struggling through smoke and lungs filling with blood.

"Don't talk," Aizawa warned finally.

"I…messed up," they whispered.

The other hero was pulling them close, cradling them against his chest before lifting them from the ground. Each step he made sent agony through their torso and back, but they managed to bite it back, burying their head into his shirt.

"Don't…want to die."

"You won't," he replied, with an illogical finality that didn't suit him. "You can't. Hizashi would go mad with grief."

Miyoko chuckled softly, a sound that radiated painfully against their ribs and came out more as a gurgle than anything else. They were breathless, but forced out their words anyway.

"Tell him…sorry."

"Don't you dare." Aizawa's voice was clipped and one might even suggest it was angry, but Miyoko knew better and distantly they smiled to themselves.

"Miyoko?"

They thought that they said something in response. But Aizawa's tone only seemed to become more strained as he said their name again. Miyoko didn't even try to answer the second time, the last vestiges of consciousness fading from their grasp.

[5x - reverse]

Distant blurs moved around them, voices not quite yelling but loud enough to be heard over each other. The familiar tone of orders being given. Everything was completely gibberish.

They were so cold, pressed against someone else that happened to be warm and then that was gone. The world shifted from dark to light, moving rapidly underneath them. There was pain and then a burning rush through their veins and then that too was gone.

They tried to move their arms and when that failed they tried to speak.

That failed too.

Miyoko drifted through nothingness for awhile instead.

The beeping was incessant and cacophonous. Too many sounds and none of them synced up. Miyoko's eyes opened but they couldn't really say they were seeing. Maybe there just wasn't anything to see. A bright light hung in the distance, but everything else was dim.

They hurt a little, but the feeling was so faint it was almost negligible. They did feel an unbearable pressure in their chest though. Not pain really, just…a lot of discomfort.

It hurts.

They tried to say it. But their lips didn't react. They tried to move and maybe they twitched, just barely, because they heard someone nearby hiss.

"They're moving. Are they awake? Why are they awake?"

An apology and a moment later, the light was gone again.

There was a weight on their hand and an uncomfortable blockage in their throat. They tried to swallow but found they couldn't. Their muscles didn't even react.

You're choking, their brain supplied.

Miyoko's eyes fluttered open, panic shooting through them. They reached to dig at their throat, but the hand holding theirs tightened and trapped them. Somewhere in the distance something beeped erratically.

"Asahi, get the nurse, they're waking up," came Kaito's calm voice. Only Kaito could sound calm in a situation like this.

A blurry shadow over them. A soft kiss on their forehead. Fingers running through their hair.

"Go back to sleep, Miyo. It's okay."

No. I don't want to.

They protested to their dad loudly, but nothing came out. They didn't want go back to sleep, they tried to say. They wanted to stop choking. Weren't they supposed to be dead? Where were they? What was happening?

The thoughts scrambling around in their brain drowned out into a dull buzz as they fell into darkness again.

When they woke next they weren't as aware of or panicked about the blockage in their throat but they knew it was still there. The hand in theirs was gone, replaced instead with a firm pressure near their shoulder.

A head full of red hair hovered above them, Keisuke's face somewhat recognizable. Some part of Miyoko was aware enough to be confused. Keisuke didn't visit hospitals — his quirk made it agonizing at best, dangerous at worst. Faintly, they thought they could see the pain in his eyes. But maybe it was just concern.

You need to get out of here.

They tried to say it but they couldn't. And when they tried to move their hands to sign, nothing responded.

"You need to go. The nurse will be coming round any second." Hizashi's distant voice wasn't threatening, but warning, surprisingly gentle towards the other.

"Yeah, okay, just gimme a sec," Keisuke responded.

"If she sees you…"

Miyoko saw Keisuke's lips turn up in an amused smile. "Yeah yeah, you'll have to arrest me. Give me a break, I get it."

Keisuke leaned forward, pressing his forehead to theirs. "Your brother's such a worrywart, Miko. Get better already before his hair goes completely gray."

"I heard that. My hair is absolutely fine."

Miyoko tried to hold onto the continued banter between their brother and their best friend but it slipped away from their awareness. They tried to reach their hand out to grab for them or someone, anything not to be left alone, but again nothing moved.

Don't go!

They could've sworn they screamed it but nothing came out.

The tube in their throat came out while they were still in a haze of sedation, but they could just vaguely feel the sensation of coughing and gagging around it. They didn't fall back asleep really, just floated endlessly in the clouds of their mind. Miyoko had their eyes wide open, listening to the nearby beeping and soft movements of the people in the room. There was no conversation, but they could make out at least two different breathing patterns.

Someone was tapping their foot against the floor, and the beat was familiar. Miyoko felt their mouth move into a smile. Hizashi's here. Even as hyperactive as Asahi might be himself, only Hizashi was hyperactive enough to tap his foot against the floor when nothing was happening at all. Also it was his favorite beat.

"Ope, I saw that," his soft voice muttered as the tapping came to a stop.

Someone shifted in a chair. Miyoko moved their hands, their muscles felt tired and weak, but they actually responded this time. They gestured that they wanted 'up'.

"Up? Yeah, I gotcha."

There was a faint whirring sound and the head of the bed rose until they were in a more inclined position, peering out around the room. Hizashi was smiling at them from the chair next to the bed.

"Mornin' sleepy head. How're you feeling?"

Miyoko offered another weak smile, hands moving slowly but deliberately. Morning. Still tired. Throat hurts a little.

"Doctor said that's to be expected. I've got some water here when you're ready."

Miyoko nodded, they tried swallowing and the feeling was like razorblades in their throat and the swallowing itself felt uncomfortable. Like there was something still stuck there. They decided they didn't want to try drinking yet.

They stared at the room, still trying to wake up. Their parents were nowhere to be seen, and they almost thought they'd imagined a second person in the room. But their eyes came to finally rest on Aizawa curled up in the chair furthest from the bed, hidden in the shadows of the corner. They weren't sure if Hizashi noticed their focus or not, but he kept talking.

"I convinced Dad and Pops to go home late last night and finally get some rest now that you were out of the woods. They'll be back this afternoon." Hizashi gestured at the sleeping form of Aizawa, still in his hero uniform though obviously much cleaner than the last time they'd seen him. "This goblin dropped by after patrol and refuses to go home. I've told him a thousand times I don't mind being alone."

Hizashi nudged their arm and Miyoko looked back to see him start signing.

He was worried about you too.

Miyoko felt the slightest warmth of a blush cross their cheeks.

"It's not polite to talk about people behind their backs," Aizawa's soft voice piped up from his chair.

The hero did not move and gave no other indication he was awake. Miyoko almost convinced themselves they'd imagined it.

"Your back is to the chair, my love, I'm basically talking right in front of you," Hizashi protested.

Aizawa huffed. "And signing too."

Hizashi simply laughed. Miyoko grinned. The banter between the two had always been something they enjoyed as a young child and seeing it picking up again since the two had started dating was always a joy.

"You gave us quite the scare, little bird," Hizashi said , his voice carrying the slightest hint of sorrow in it. "There was a moment there we weren't sure you were going to pull through."

The sound in Hizashi's voice made sense now. They really had almost died, they hadn't imagined that.

I'm sorry. I messed up and got hurt.

"Do you know what you did wrong?"

Miyoko didn't expect the question and definitely not from the once sleeping form across the room. Aizawa had opened his eyes fully now and was fixing his position in the chair to sit forward. They hesitated for a moment and then nodded.

Yes.

Aizawa blinked slowly and nodded his head. "Good. Learn from it. Avoid doing it again."

You don't think I failed?

Aizawa stared at them quietly, features passive. "You made a mistake. It's only a failure if you give up or don't learn from it."

He stood up, stretching before looking to Hizashi. "Want something from the machine?"

Hizashi gave a dismissive wave. "No thanks."

Aizawa looked to Miyoko and they shook their head. He hummed out an affirmative noise and left the room. Miyoko settled back against the pillow.

"That man's a big softie, he just won't admit it," Hizashi said with a chuckle.

Miyoko just stared out the door after the other hero, processing, mouth hanging open to say something. They had been mute for most of their life but this was the first time they could really say they were at a loss for words.

Finally they gave up and shut their mouth. A smile stretched slowly across their features as they shut their eyes. Miyoko thought of everyone that had been by their side this entire time and felt warmth bloom in their chest.

They weren't that scared, lonely kid anymore.

They were well and truly loved.