Chapter Text
Yagi Toshinori noticed it the moment he stepped outside. The familiar chirp of the birds was gone. The wind had tucked itself away. Even the trees stood motionless, as if the forest had frozen mid-breath. Unease settled over him like a damp coat, impossible to shrug off. Still, he adjusted the strap of his bag and began his slow descent down the steep mountainside. Whatever warning his instincts were trying to give him would have to wait. Survival had little patience for premonitions.
It was a rather chilly day in September as summer shifted into autumn. The morning air pressed against his skin with a cool touch that made him shiver as the wind picked up occasionally. The skies colors were painted a pallet of grays that continued to the horizon.
The path beneath his feet was familiar, yet somehow foreign. He had walked this route countless times before, memorizing every sharp turn and every uneven stone, but today the mountain seemed to have changed overnight. The trees that once stretched proudly toward the sky now stood weary and bare, their leaves scattered across the ground in shades of amber and rust. They clung to their branches like they were reluctant to let go of the last remnants of summer.
His boots disturbed the layer of fallen leaves covering the trail, each step breaking the silence that had settled over the forest. Normally, the mountain carried its own rhythm: the distant calls of birds, the rustling of wildlife hidden among the undergrowth, the gentle movement of branches swaying in the breeze. Today, there was only the sound of his own footsteps.
He had learned a long time ago not to rely on things he couldn’t measure. Instincts could be wrong. Fear could cloud judgment. But hunger was real. Injury was real. Survival was real.
So he kept walking.
The grocery store sat on the edge of the nearest town, a thirty-minute walk from the base of the mountain. Under normal circumstances, the distance would have been insignificant. A short drive. A simple errand. Something people did without a second thought.
Now, every trip carried a similar risk.
Toshinori followed the narrow path that eventually connected with the old road, his footsteps crunching against the gravel and fallen leaves beneath him. The forest slowly thinned as he descended, the towering trees giving way to overgrown brush and patches of gray pavement worn down by years of neglect.
He kept his eyes moving, scanning the area out of habit. The empty road stretched ahead, cracked and uneven, with weeds forcing their way through the broken asphalt. Abandoned signs leaned at crooked angles, their faded letters barely visible beneath layers of dirt and weather.
The world had a strange way of pretending it was still alive.
The trees still grew. The seasons still changed. The sun still rose every morning and painted the sky in colors no one stopped to admire anymore.
But everything else had gone to a deafening kind of silence.
Toshinori adjusted the strap of his bag once again and continued forward. The grocery store was only thirty minutes away.
Thirty minutes there.
Thirty minutes back.
That was the plan.
Plans, however, had a habit of breaking.
______________________________
He stopped outside of his usual grocery mart and reminisced on what it had been before, well, everything had happened. He shook his head, disregarding the thought that brought back countless memories and continued on to quickly grab his usual supplies.
The automatic doors hadn’t worked in years. He slipped through the narrow gap between them, easing one inside just enough to avoid the shrill scrape of rusted metal against concrete.
The grocery store smelled of stale air, dust, and something faintly sour beneath it all.
Shelves stood like empty skeletons, their contents stripped away long ago. A few dented cans and torn packages remained scattered across the floor, abandoned by whoever had gotten there first. Shopping carts sat frozen where they had been left years ago, one tipped onto its side, another lodged against a checkout lane.
He plucked the last few cans from the dusty shelves, each one wearing a thin coat of gray that had settled over years of abandonment. As he reached for another, something flickered in the corner of his eye.
Something was in there with him.
His pulse slowed instead of quickening.
In a world such as this one, panic got people killed.
He scanned the aisle without turning his head, searching for anything he could use. A rusted fire extinguisher hung from a support pillar just beyond arm’s reach. Nearby, a broom leaned against an overturned display. Neither would help if whatever was behind him was already close.
His gaze drifted upward.
A convex security mirror overlooked the intersection of the aisles.
There.
The reflection distorted the world into a warped fisheye, but it was enough.
A lone zombie shuffled several aisles behind him.
Its movements were sluggish, almost absentminded. Torn sneakers dragged across the cracked tile floor with a faint scrape… scrape… scrape. Its head lolled slightly to one side, jaw hanging open just enough for strands of dried blood to stain its collar.
It wasn’t looking at him.
Not yet.
Toshinori remained perfectly still.
The infected wandered another step before stopping beside an abandoned shopping cart, as though it had forgotten why it had been moving in the first place.
Good.
Slowly, without making a sound, he set the can that still rested in another can from the shelf.
Then something outside caught his attention.
Sunlight flashed against the dusty front windows.
His eyes shifted toward the entrance.
His stomach dropped.
The parking lot was full.
Figures drifted between abandoned cars, wandered across cracked asphalt, or stood perfectly motionless facing nothing at all. Some leaned against light poles. Others crowded near the storefront as if drawn there by an instinct they no longer understood.
There weren’t dozens.
There were hundreds.
The glass separated him from an ocean of death.
He had turned every possibility over in his mind, examining each one from every angle. Fight. Hide. Wait. Run. One by one, they collapsed beneath their own flaws until only a single certainty remained.
None of them ended with him leaving alive.
Toshinori closed his eyes.
Think.
Panic narrowed a person’s vision. It made them overlook details. He hadn’t survived this long by surrendering to fear.
Slowly, he forced himself to look again.
Not at the zombies.
At the store.
His gaze swept over the checkout lanes, the shattered freezer aisles, the hanging fluorescent lights that hadn’t flickered in years.
The front entrance was impossible.
The emergency exit was too exposed.
The back.
It was his only chance.
If he could make it through the back of the store unnoticed, the alley beyond might be clear enough to lose whatever followed him.
It wasn’t a good plan.
It was simply the best he had in mind.
He shifted his weight beneath him, planting one hand against the shelf as he slowly rose to his feet.
He shifted his weight beneath him, planting one hand against the shelf as he slowly rose to his feet.
He was careful.
Careful enough that he almost believed he had succeeded.
Almost.
His shoulder grazed the shelf.
And single can rolled slowly crept forward.
Toshinori watched it fall.
He couldn’t catch it.
He was too slow.
Clang.
For one second, nothing happened.
Then every infected outside moved.
Heads turned.
Bodies slammed into one another searching relentlessly for the sudden noise.
Toshinori didn’t wait. He couldn’t. This next decision was life or death.
He grabbed his bag and moved.
The back entrance.
That was the plan.
It was no longer an option.
He reached the metal door at the end of the store and shoved the handle down.
Nothing.
Again with more force.
Still nothing.
A low groan sounded from somewhere behind him.
Toshinori looked over his shoulder catiously,grasping hope that it hadn’t spotted him yet.
What did he expect, of course it had found him.
It stumbled forward as fast as its mangled body would let it.
Toshinori’s jaw tightened.
The door was locked.
Of course it was locked. Today was definitely not his day.
There was no time to force it open. No time to search for another exit. The store was waking up around him, and every second he spent standing still was another second they had to surround him.
So he ran.
Back toward the front entrance.
Toward the heavy sea of flesh eating corpses waiting outside.
The automatic doors groaned as he slammed into them, forcing them apart with all the strength he had left.
Cold air hit his face instantly, as did the screech of the undead.
He had hoped to sneak out unnoticed but that plan was doomed from the beginning.
The infected poured toward him like a tsunami, quickly filling the empty space of the lot.
Toshinori stepped backward as much as he was able, his grip tightening around his dual knives as the circle closed on him.
The parking lot stretched behind them. Every direction was filled. Toshinori had no answer. No plan. No escape. Just the sound of approaching footsteps and the quiet realization that he might have finally reached the end of the road.
He fought with everything he had left in him, and it started to work for a bit, the number in zombies still standing were decreasing. But the majority of them were still pushing forwards, reaching, clawing, and grabbing at the chance to fulfill their untamable hunger for human flesh.
He could feel something sticky slowly trickling down his legs, he just hoped it wasn’t a bite.
As he continued to fight them off his strength just got weaker and weaker as did his hope and determination.
This was it, he had only taken down about 50 and he was already drained of all his strength, still mass overwhelmed by the size of the mob plowing towards him, not to mention his right leg, its most likely a deep cut but that won’t matter soon, he can’t fight them off. Time seems to slow as he realizes.
‘I’m going to die’
He watches the zombie in the middle reach its hands out for him with its mouth opened wider than should be possible.
He relaxed his eyes and waited for the up-coming darkness to lead him to his eternal rest.
That was the plan.
Plans, however
had a habit of breaking.
______________________________________
A flash of dark emerald cut through the sea of gray and brown, stopping between him and the approaching infected.
Based on height the figure couldn’t have been older than sixteen.
He was small.
Too small.
His dark green curls had grown wild, falling into the back of a thin white tee that hung loosely over narrow shoulders. The fabric was threadbare, patched at the elbows with mismatched pieces of cloth, and stained with dirt gathered from years spent surviving. A weathered hiking backpack rested against his back, overstuffed and stitched together in more places than Toshinori could count. A battered metal canteen bumped softly against his hip with each breath he took.
Scars climbed the backs of his hands where fingerless gloves failed to cover them.
Despite his size…
He didn’t shake.
And he took the bite.
…
Wait.
He took the bite.
A child had just sacrificed his whole life for an old man who should have just been left to die.
As the fact dawned on him more the green haired boy continued to take out the horde of zombies using a butcher knife and…knives in his shoes… with such ease that it looked as easy as riding a bike.
Minutes later the mob had dissipated into nothing but bodies on the cracked pavement.
Toshinori stumbled forward before he even realized his legs were moving.
“What were you thinking?!”
The words cracked out of him, louder than he’d intended.
The boy turned his head and blinked.
“What?”
“What do you mean what?” Toshinori’s voice shook. “You… you threw yourself in front of me!”
“You’ve been bitten!”
“…Yeah.”
“You…” Toshinori stopped, his chest hitching as emotion caught up with him. “You’re… you’re just a kid.”
The boy stared at him for a long moment.
“I know?”
“You’ve…” Toshinori swallowed hard, unable to stop the tears burning at the corners of his eyes. “You’ve thrown your life away for someone you’ve never even met.”
Silence.
The boy looked genuinely puzzled.
“I don’t really see what the big deal is…”
“The big deal?” Toshinori laughed once, the sound brittle and strained. “You were bitten!”
“…Mhm.”
“You should be terrified!”
“I mean…” The boy shrugged. “Not really.”
Toshinori simply stared.
Shock, he thought desperately.
He’s in shock.
It was the only explanation.
Before he could say another word—
A blur erupted from between two abandoned cars.
One of the infected apparently had lived, sprinting straight toward Toshinori.
His instincts screamed.
His hand dropped toward his weapon and—
“TODOROKI!”
The boy didn’t even turn around
Crack!
The sharp report echoed across the parking lot.
The infected jerked mid-stride and collapsed onto the pavement, motionless before it had slid to a stop.
Toshinori’s head whipped toward the distant hillside overlooking the road.
For a heartbeat, he saw nothing.
Then, a figure lowered a rifle from a rocky outcrop, the afternoon light catching mismatched hair before they disappeared behind the trees again.
The green-haired boy let out a relieved sigh.
“Thanks!”
His voice carried toward the hillside as though this happened every day.
Toshinori looked from the fallen infected…
…to the boy…
…back toward the ridge.
“…”
What the hell.
The boy cupped his hands around his mouth.
“Nice shot!”
A faint voice carried back from somewhere beyond the trees.
“Thank you, Midoriya.”
Then another voice rang out.
Loud.
Sharp.
Already seemingly annoyed.
“OI! WHY THE HELL DID YOU START WITHOUT ME, NERD?!”
The shout echoed through the empty streets.
It was followed by the rapid thud of boots pounding against cracked pavement.
“COULDN’T LEAVE A FEW FOR THE REST OF US?!”
A blond blur rounded the corner of an abandoned delivery truck.
“Kacchan he was going to die!”
He couldn’t have been much older than the green-haired boy.
Ash-blond hair exploded in every direction, and his black hiking pack bounced against his back as he walked angrily across the parking lot with a chipped baseball bat slung over one shoulder.
Still shouting at the green boy.
A quite rustle sounded from the bushes behind them
Toshinori looked over his shoulder reaching for his weapon, half expecting another zombie to appear.
Instead, the rifleman emerged from between the trees with the same measured pace he’d fired with.
Half his hair was white, the other half, deep crimson.
His face was unreadable.
Without acknowledging the argument going on behind him, he walked directly to the green-haired boy and knelt beside him.
“Arm.”
The boy obediently held it out.
“…Sorry.”
“It’s fine Midoriya”
The dual-haired teenager slipped off his backpack, retrieving a roll of gauze, disinfectant, and fresh bandages with practiced ease.
He examined the bite for only a second before beginning to clean it.
The green-haired boy hissed quietly.
“That stings.”
“I know.”
“You don’t have to scrub that hard…”
“I do.”
Throughout the entire exchange…
No one looked frightened.
No one panicked.
No one even seemed particularly concerned.
They spoke with the casual familiarity of people patching up a scraped knee after a long hike.
Toshinori stood perfectly still.
His weapon still hung limply at his side.
His breathing hadn’t slowed.
A child had just been bitten.
And it was because of him.
Toshinori’s eyes fell to the fresh bandage wrapped around the boy’s forearm.
After a long period of time it had dawned on him.
The bite.
The other two were in danger
His blood ran cold.
“…Move.”
None of them reacted.
His voice rose, raw with panic.
“Move!”
The three teenagers looked at him in confusion.
“He’s been bitten!”
Before any of them could respond, Toshinori lunged forward.
He shoved the dual-haired boy backward with one hand and drove his shoulder into the blond, forcing him a step away from the green-haired teenager and ignored the angry ones shouting as best he could
“Get away from him!”
The words tore from his throat.
“All of you!”
The green-haired boy stumbled back.
“Wha…?”
Toshinori’s shaking hand dropped to the knives at his belt.
“I’m sorry…”
His voice cracked.
“I’m… so sorry…”
He couldn’t let the infection spread. Not after everything. Not after the child had sacrificed himself for him.
The blade cleared its sheath.
The green-haired boy’s eyes widened.
“…Wait.”
Fear flashed across the teenager’s face for the first time.
“W-Wait, hold on—”
Suddenly he wasn’t standing in front of the green haired kid anymore, the boy with the eye scar had placed him self square in between him and the bitten while the spiky haired kid forced his knives back into their place holders.
“Get out of the way! There is still time before he turns!”
Behind the rifleman, the green-haired boy peeked around his shoulder, thoroughly bewildered.
“…Um…”
He pointed awkwardly at himself.
“I’m… not gonna turn.”
Toshinori looked from the boy…
…to the fresh bite soaking through the gauze…
…to the two teenagers standing protectively in front of him.
His heart hammered against his ribs.
“What are you talking about?” he whispered.
“The bite is right there!”
The dual-haired boy sighs heavily like he has had to explain this same scenario multiple times.
“…He is immune to the virus”
Silence.
Toshinori blinked once, then twice.
“…what…”
“He is immune to the virus.”
Silence.
Toshinori blinked once.
Then twice.
“…No.”
The three teenagers stared at him.
“I’m sorry,” Toshinori said quietly, his voice heavy with guilt. “I know you’re trying to protect your friend.”
Izuku frowned.
“…I’m not lying.”
“I know you believe that.”
Toshinori’s eyes lingered on the fresh bandage wrapped around the boy’s arm.
“I truly hope you’re right.”
His hand drifted back toward the knives at his belt.
“But hope isn’t enough.”
The handle had barely cleared the sheath before Bakugo caught his wrist.
With one sharp motion, he shoved the knife back into place.
Click.
“Didn’t you hear him the first time?”
Toshinori tried again.
Bakugo’s grip tightened.
This time he slammed the handle down with enough force that the leather sheath creaked.
“I said…”
“He’s. Not. Turning.”
The parking lot fell silent.
Toshinori met the blond’s furious stare without backing down.
“If you’re wrong…”
“We’re not.”
“…If you’re wrong,” Toshinori repeated, “everyone dies.”
Bakugo clicked his tongue.
“Tch.”
Izuku stepped around Todoroki before the argument could continue.
“It’s okay.”
Izuku looked up at Toshinori, surprisingly calm.
“…Give me twenty minutes.”
“…What?”
“It usually takes about fifteen minutes.”
He tapped the bandage on his arm.
“If I haven’t turned in twenty…”
He shrugged.
“…Then you’ll know.”
Toshinori searched the teenager’s face.
There wasn’t a trace of fear.
No denial.
No bargaining.
Just quiet certainty.
“…And if you do turn?”
Izuku’s answer came without hesitation.
“…Then kill me.”
…
Damn.
If the kid was willing to die trying to prove himself then he’d go along with it, this just gave him more time to prepare his mind to do the unthinkable.
“Fine, twenty minutes”
His hand rested uneasily on the hilt of one knife.
“If you’re wrong…”
His expression hardened despite the regret twisting in his chest.
“…I’ll do what has to be done.”
The green hair boy simply nodded.
“…Okay.”
The silence lingered.
No one spoke.
No one moved.
Todoroki was the first to break it.
“You’re favoring your left side.”
Toshinori looked down instinctively.
Only now did he notice how much weight he had shifted onto his left leg. His right pant leg was torn nearly to the kneecap, revealing a gash that had long since soaked through the fabric. Blood continued to drip steadily from somewhere beneath it.
“Let me at least temporarily patch it up.”
Toshinori nodded, still stunned by the whole situation. The dual haired boy went to go grab the first aid kit when suddenly the green-haired boy brightened.
“You should come back with us!”
Three heads turned toward him.
Izuku smiled as though he’d just had the greatest idea in the world.
“Todoroki can clean that up way better than I ever could! We’ve got medical supplies, food…” He paused, counting on his fingers. “…Blankets! And soup, I think? Unless Kacchan ate it.”
“I didn’t.”
“Oh.”
Izuku nodded, satisfied.
“So we probably still have soup.”
Toshinori’s eyes drifted back to the white gauze wrapped neatly around Izuku’s forearm.
The bandage was clean.
Even.
Firm enough to stop the bleeding without cutting off circulation.
Whoever had wrapped it knew exactly what they were doing.
His gaze shifted to Todoroki.
“…You’ve had practice.”
Todoroki simply nodded.
“A lot.”
There was probably more of a story to that but it wasn’t his business to pry into, and still, Toshinori hesitated.
His instincts tugged and pulled for him to leave.
To disappear back into the mountains before the bite had time to prove him right.
Yet…
His eyes landed on Izuku again.
The teenager was smiling.
Talking.
Completely unaware that Toshinori was silently watching him for the slightest twitch, the faintest shiver, any sign that the infection had begun.
I can’t leave them alone with him.
If they truly believed he was immune…
If they refused to act…
Someone would have to.
“…All right.”
Izuku beamed.
“Really?”
“I’ll come.”
Not because he trusted them.
Because he didn’t.
⸻
The trail wound back into the forest.
Leaves crunched beneath their boots as the four made their way beneath the fading canopy.
Izuku talked.
Constantly.
Toshinori found himself drifting toward the back of the group probably because of his limp
His eyes settled on the bandage around his leg, clean wraps, consistent tension, no wasted material.
It was impressive.
Professional, almost.
Certainly not the work of children.
“…”
“…” Izuku suddenly stopped talking.
He blinked.
“…I don’t think we introduced ourselves.”
He turned with a sheepish grin.
“I’m Midoriya! Izuku Midoriya.”
Todoroki inclined his head.
“Shoto Todoroki.”
“Katsuki Bakugo.”
Three pairs of eyes shifted toward Toshinori.
He hesitated only briefly.
“…Yagi.”
A pause.
“…Yagi Toshinori.”
Izuku froze.
“…”
“…”
His eyes widened.
His mouth slowly fell open.
“…No…”
The excitement that lit his face was almost blinding.
“No way.”
He spun around so quickly his backpack nearly swung off one shoulder.
“You’re Yagi Toshinori?!”
The volume of his voice startled birds from somewhere deep within the trees.
The spi-Bakugo seemed to be stunned as well but trying his best to hide it.
Izuku practically bounced in place.
“THE YAGI TOSHINORI?!”
Toshinori blinked.
“…You know me?”
Izuku looked like he had forgotten how to breathe.
“You… you’re…”
He pointed at Toshinori with both hands, words tripping over each other.
“I have, like, a million questions!”
Todoroki sighed
“Midoriya.”
“It’s him!”
“Midoriya.”
“I can’t believe it’s actually him!”
“Izuku.”
“What?!”
“Walk.”
“…Right.”
Izuku immediately started walking again.
He lasted all of three seconds.
“…So, um…”
He looked over his shoulder, practically vibrating.
“…Can I ask you something?”
__________
About a million and one questions and many angry shouts later the trees gradually thinned until the outline of a building emerged through the branches.
It had once been a hospital.
Nature had claimed much of it back.
Vines crawled over cracked brick walls, ivy disappearing through shattered windows. Moss blanketed the front steps, and young saplings had rooted themselves in fractures that split the parking lot apart. The faded ambulance bay still stood, though one of its support columns leaned dangerously to one side.
Despite its appearance…
Someone lived here.
The front doors had been reinforced with salvaged sheet metal.
Fresh footprints crossed the entrance.
Smoke drifted lazily from a makeshift chimney extending from the roof.
It was hidden well.
Almost invisible beneath the trees.
Bakugo walked inside smiling while Todoroki followed close behind. He was going tol
“Aaaand…” Izuku stopped just outside the entrance.
He tapped Toshinori lightly on the shoulder.
“There.”
Toshinori looked at him.
Izuku wore the same easy smile he’d had since the parking lot.
“ Twenty minutes.”
“…”
“I didn’t turn.”
Silence.
Toshinori’s gaze dropped to the bandage.
Still no fever.
No trembling.
No clouded eyes.
Nothing.
Impossible.
Izuku’s grin softened.
“Told you.”
Then, he disappeared inside.
Toshinori remained standing outside for another moment before following.
______________________________________
The inside of the hospital was warmer than he expected.
Generators hummed quietly somewhere below the building.
The lobby had been transformed into something… livable.
Shelves lined one wall, filled with carefully organized supplies. Blankets were folded into neat stacks. Lanterns hung from hooks hammered into old support beams.
Someone had worked very hard to make this place feel like home.
“…Shoto?”
Todoroki looked up from setting his rifle against the wall.
“Can you help me get dinner set on the roof”
He studied Izuku’s face for a second before nodding.
“Okay.”
The two disappeared toward the stairwell without another word.
The heavy door clicked shut behind them.
Silence settled over the room.
Bakugo walked straight into what had once been the hospital cafeteria.
Toshinori hesitated before following.
The blond teenager rummaged through a cabinet, pulled out a battered pot, and set it over a small camping stove with practiced efficiency.
For several minutes…
Only the quiet clatter of cookware filled the room.
Finally—
“…Don’t ask.”
Toshinori blinked.
“…About what?”
Bakugo didn’t look up from stirring the pot.
“You know exactly what.”
Silence.
“He won’t tell you.”
Another stir.
“And even if he would…”
Bakugo’s grip tightened around the spoon.
“…He shouldn’t have to.”
Toshinori lowered his eyes.
“…I wasn’t going to.”
“Tch.”
Bakugo finally turned around.
He grabbed a bowl from the counter, filled it nearly to the brim with steaming soup, and shoved it unceremoniously into Toshinori’s hands.
“Eat.”
Before Toshinori could thank him, Bakugo had already filled three more bowls.
One.
Two.
Three.
Balanced expertly against his arms.
Without another word, he headed toward the stairwell.
Toshinori looked down at the warm bowl in his hands.
The soup was simple.
Nothing more than vegetables and broth.
But it was hot.
Someone had made enough for him without being asked.
Without expecting anything in return.
Despite everything…
Despite the knife.
Despite not trusting him.
They had still fed him.
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“…Thank you.”
Bakugo either didn’t hear him…
Or pretended not to.
Toshinori looked toward the stairwell where the others had gone.
After a brief hesitation…
He followed.
______________________________________
The roof was colder than the inside of the hospital.
But it was peaceful.
The four of them sat in a loose circle, bowls of warm food in their hands.
Izuku, unsurprisingly, was the one filling the silence.
Despite himself, Toshinori found the corner of his mouth lifting.
The three of them spoke like they had done this a thousand times before.
Like this was normal.
Like sitting on the roof of an abandoned hospital after fighting through a swarm of infected was just another evening.
Izuku continued talking, hands moving animatedly as he told one story after another.
Some were funny.
Some were unbelievable.
Some involved Bakugo getting angry.
Most involved Bakugo getting angry.
“And then Kacchan said—”
“Eat.”
Izuku paused.
“What?”
Bakugo pointed his spoon at him.
“Your food.”
“I’m eating.”
“You’ve been holding the same spoonful for five minutes.”
Izuku looked down.
“…Oh.”
Bakugo sighed.
“Unbelievable.”
Toshinori watched quietly.
There was something strange about seeing them like this.
The world had taken everything from them.
Their homes.
Their families.
Their futures.
Yet somehow, they had still managed to keep their innocence preserved.
The little moments that made them feel like ordinary teenagers instead of survivors.
Eventually, Izuku’s stories became slower, his voice softened, the exhaustion he had been hiding finally caught up with him.
One second, he was explaining some detail with a tired smile, the next… his head rested against Todoroki’s shoulder.
Todoroki looked down.
“Midoriya?”
No response, he was already asleep.
A few minutes passed.
And Toshinori noticed Todoroki’s eyes slowly closing as well.
His head tilted.
And eventually, he rested gently against Izuku’s.
Bakugo stared at them.
The annoyed expression he had worn all evening faded.
Something much heavier replaced it.
He carefully stood, collecting the empty bowls one by one.
He looked back toward the sleeping pair and sighed.
“Deku’s an idiot.”
Toshinori said nothing.
“He doesn’t think.”
Bakugo stacked the bowls together.
“Not about himself.”
A pause.
“He’ll run into danger without hesitation. Doesn’t matter if he’s hurt. Doesn’t matter if he’s exhausted. Doesn’t matter if nobody asked him to.”
His grip tightened slightly around the bowls.
“He sees someone who needs help, and…
The word hung in the air
“His body just moves on his own, and that’s what’s gonna get him killed.”
Bakugo looked away.
“Just don’t let him do anything stupid, okay?”
For a moment, Toshinori didn’t answer.
He had spent years protecting people because it was his duty.
But this was different.
These kids had saved him.
And now…
It was his turn.
Toshinori looked back at Bakugo.
His answer was quiet, but it was filled with more hope and determination than his words had been in years.
“I will.”
His plan was to live among the mountains, isolated but protected by the thick and lonely forest, his only friend being a distant memory. Plans, however… Had a habit of breaking.