Work Text:
The rehabilitation centre was quieter than Himiko Toga had expected.
She'd imagined steel bars.
Locked doors.
Cold white walls.
Instead...
There was a garden.
Birdsong drifted through the open window.
Someone was watering flowers outside.
It felt...
Wrong.
She didn't deserve somewhere this peaceful.
A quiet knock sounded against the doorframe.
"May I come in?"
Toga looked up.
Green hair.
Freckles.
The same gentle smile.
"...Midoriya."
Izuku smiled awkwardly.
"It's nice to see you again."
She snorted.
"You're weird."
"I've been told."
"You keep visiting."
"I do."
"...Why?"
He stepped into the room, carrying a paper bag.
"I brought melon bread."
She stared at it.
"...You remembered."
"You said it was your favourite."
"I also tried to stab you."
"You did."
"And you still remembered the bread?"
"I did."
She looked away.
"...You're weird."
Izuku laughed quietly.
"I probably am."
He placed the paper bag on the small table between them before taking a seat opposite her.
Neither spoke for a while.
Toga kept glancing at the bread.
Eventually...
"...Can I eat it?"
He blinked.
"...Of course."
"You brought it for me."
"...Right."
She reached into the bag carefully, almost suspiciously, before taking a bite.
For a few moments...
The room was completely silent.
Then she muttered through a mouthful,
"...It's good."
"I'm glad."
Silence settled again.
Comfortable for Izuku.
Much less so for Toga.
Finally...
"...Why are you here?"
Izuku tilted his head.
"You already asked that."
"I know."
"I'm asking again."
He thought about it.
Then answered honestly.
"Because I said I'd come back."
"...That's it?"
"I don't like breaking promises."
She frowned.
"...You're seriously telling me..."
"...the Number Four Hero visits me every week because he made a promise?"
He smiled.
"...Pretty much."
She stared at him.
"...You're definitely weird."
A month passed.
Then another.
The visits became routine.
Sometimes they talked.
Sometimes they didn't.
Sometimes Izuku simply brought bread and they sat in companionable silence while she complained about the centre's coffee.
She discovered he made terrible jokes.
He discovered she cheated at every
board game she could get away with.
"You moved two spaces."
"I absolutely didn't."
"...You did."
"Prove it."
"I watched you."
"No you didn't."
"I was sitting opposite you."
"...Details."
He laughed.
"You are impossible."
"I've been called worse."
One rainy afternoon...
They sat watching droplets race down
the window.
Neither had said much.
Toga hugged her knees to her chest.
"...Midoriya?"
"Hm?"
"...Can I ask something?"
"Anything."
She didn't answer immediately.
Instead...
She watched the rain.
"I don't really..."
She searched for the words.
"...understand people."
He stayed quiet.
"I thought I did."
"I thought..."
"...if I loved someone..."
"...I should become them."
Her fingers tightened around her sleeves.
"I thought wanting blood meant love."
"I thought hurting people..."
"...was just part of it."
She laughed bitterly.
"...Turns out I was wrong."
Izuku's expression softened.
"You were taught a lot of things that weren't healthy."
"I know."
She looked down.
"I just..."
"...don't know what healthy looks like."
Silence.
Long enough that she almost took the
words back.
Then...
She looked up.
Meeting his eyes.
There was no mischief in her smile.
No teasing.
No madness.
Only uncertainty.
"...Can you teach me?"
Izuku blinked.
"What?"
She swallowed.
"...Not..."
"...not how to kiss."
Her cheeks coloured slightly.
"Not..."
"...relationship stuff."
"I mean..."
She struggled again.
"...How normal people..."
"...care about each other."
Her voice had become barely louder than a whisper.
"I don't know how."
"I've never known."
"If..."
She laughed awkwardly.
"If I ever get the chance to love somebody..."
"...I don't want to hurt them."
The room fell silent.
Outside...
The rain continued to fall.
Izuku looked at the young woman sitting opposite him.
Not the villain who had once tried to kill him.
Not the girl everyone feared.
Just...
Someone admitting she didn't know
how to be loved.
Or how to love in return.
He smiled gently.
"I don't know if I'm the best teacher."
Toga looked down.
"...Oh."
"But..."
He leaned forward slightly.
"...I'd be happy to learn with you."
For the first time in years...
Himiko Toga cried.
Not because she was angry.
Not because she was afraid.
Because, for the first time...
Someone had heard the frightened little girl beneath everything else.
And instead of turning away...
He'd stayed.
The following week...
Izuku arrived carrying two paper cups.
Toga looked up from the puzzle she'd been pretending to do.
"...You're late."
"I know."
"Seven minutes."
"You counted?"
"I was bored."
He held up the cups.
"The café near the station was busy."
She accepted one suspiciously.
"...Hot chocolate?"
"You said you hated the coffee here."
"I do."
She took a careful sip.
"...This is much better."
"I thought it might be."
She frowned at him.
"...You remember a lot."
Izuku shrugged.
"I try to."
For a while...
They worked on the puzzle together.
Well...
Izuku worked on the puzzle.
Toga kept stealing pieces she knew he needed.
"You've got the corner."
"I don't."
"You do."
"I absolutely don't."
"...It's behind your back."
She slowly revealed the piece with a grin.
"...Lucky guess."
Izuku laughed.
"I don't think you're ever going to play fairly."
"Probably not."
When the puzzle was finally finished...
Toga leaned back in her chair.
"...Okay."
"You said you'd teach me."
Izuku nodded.
"I did."
"So..."
She gestured vaguely.
"...Teach."
He blinked.
"...Right now?"
"You offered."
"I did."
She folded her arms.
"I'm waiting."
Izuku thought for a long moment.
Then...
"...Say thank you."
She frowned.
"...What?"
"When someone does something kind."
"...I know how to say thank you."
"I know."
"But..."
He smiled gently.
"...mean it."
She looked confused.
"I always say it."
"Not always."
She opened her mouth to argue.
Then stopped.
Because...
He was right.
Most of the time she'd used words as tools.
To manipulate.
To distract.
To tease.
Not because she genuinely felt them.
"...Oh."
The lesson seemed almost...
Disappointingly simple.
The following day, one of the staff members helped her carry a stack of books back to her room.
Normally...
She would've just walked away.
Instead...
She hesitated.
"...Thank you."
The nurse smiled.
"You're welcome."
That was it.
No hidden agenda.
No expectation.
Just...
Kindness given.
Kindness acknowledged.
Toga stood in the corridor for a long moment afterwards.
"...That felt..."
Different.
The next visit...
"I did it."
Izuku looked up from unwrapping another melon bread.
"...Did what?"
"I said thank you."
"...How'd it go?"
She shrugged.
"...Nothing happened."
He smiled.
"What were you expecting?"
"I don't know."
"A parade?"
She snorted.
"...Maybe."
Another week passed.
Then another.
Each visit became another tiny lesson.
Not lectures.
Experiences.
One afternoon...
They sat in the rehabilitation centre's garden.
A robin landed nearby.
Toga immediately reached towards it.
The bird flew away.
"...Rude."
Izuku smiled.
"It was frightened."
"I wasn't going to hurt it."
"I know."
"...It didn't."
He nodded.
"It doesn't know that yet."
She watched the bird settle safely in a nearby tree.
"...How do you make it trust you?"
"You don't."
She looked at him.
"You let it decide."
Silence.
"...Oh."
That evening...
She couldn't stop thinking about the bird.
You let it decide.
Nobody had ever given her that choice before.
People either wanted to change her...
Or feared her.
Neither had ever waited.
Izuku had.
Another month passed.
The changes were almost invisible.
She interrupted people less.
She listened more.
She apologised when she genuinely meant it.
Sometimes she still lost her temper.
Sometimes she still laughed at inappropriate moments.
Sometimes she still made Izuku question every decision that had led him to this rehabilitation centre.
"You absolutely cheated."
"I absolutely won."
"You moved three pieces."
"I was improving efficiency."
"You invented new rules."
"I was innovating."
He sighed dramatically.
"...You are exhausting."
She grinned.
"...You came back anyway."
He smiled.
"I did."
Rain tapped softly against the windows.
The board game between them had long since been abandoned.
Toga rested her chin on her folded arms.
"...Midoriya?"
"Hm?"
"...Why didn't you give up?"
He looked at her.
"On what?"
"Me."
The smile slipped from his face.
She continued quietly.
"I wasn't exactly..."
"...easy."
"You tried to kill me."
"I know."
"I threatened your friends."
"I know."
"I hurt people."
"I know."
"So..."
She looked down at the table.
"...Why are you still here?"
Izuku didn't answer straight away.
Instead...
He remembered another rainy day.
Another conversation.
Another frightened question.
Can you teach me?
Finally...
He smiled.
"Because every week..."
"...you've tried."
Toga blinked.
"What?"
"You've tried."
"You've made mistakes."
"You've had bad days."
"But every single week..."
"...you've tried again."
He leaned back in his chair.
"I think people deserve to be recognised for that."
Her throat tightened.
"...Nobody's ever..."
She stopped.
"...Nobody's ever noticed that before."
"I have."
Silence settled between them once more.
Not awkward.
Not heavy.
Just… Quiet.
Toga looked at the cup of hot chocolate in front of her.
Then at Izuku.
"...Thank you."
The words were soft.
Almost shy.
There was no teasing.
No sarcasm.
No mask.
Just gratitude.
Izuku smiled.
This time...
She'd meant it.
And somehow...
The two simple words felt like the biggest step she'd taken yet.
Spring arrived quietly.
The rehabilitation centre's gardens, once bare and grey, were now filled with colour.
Flowers lined the pathways.
Cherry blossoms drifted lazily through the air.
Somehow...
Izuku still managed to arrive seven minutes late.
Toga folded her arms.
"...You're late."
"I know."
"Seven minutes."
"You timed me again?"
"I've started bringing a stopwatch."
"...You don't own a stopwatch."
"...No."
"I use the clock."
Izuku laughed.
"I walked into that one."
"You really did."
Today's lesson wasn't inside.
The staff had approved supervised walks around the centre's grounds.
Nothing outside the gates.
Not yet.
But… It was still freedom.
Toga walked with her hands in the pockets of her oversized hoodie.
"...It's weird."
"What is?"
"...Being trusted."
Izuku glanced at her.
"You've earned it."
She kicked a loose pebble along the path.
"...Feels strange."
"Good strange?"
"I think so."
They reached a bench beneath a cherry blossom tree.
Petals drifted around them.
Toga caught one before it hit the ground.
"...Can I ask another question?"
Izuku smiled.
"When have I ever stopped you?"
She ignored the joke.
"...What's your favourite thing?"
He blinked.
"...Favourite thing?"
"About people."
He thought.
For quite a while.
Finally...
"When they remember little things."
She frowned.
"...Little things?"
He nodded.
"My mum remembers how everyone takes their tea."
"Mr. Aizawa always pretends he isn't paying attention..."
"...but he notices when someone hasn't slept."
"Mirio remembers everyone's birthday."
He smiled to himself.
"I think..."
"...those little things are how people say..."
‘I care about you.’
"...without using words."
Toga quietly turned the flower petal over in her fingers.
"...That's nice."
She couldn't stop thinking about it.
Little things.
The following week...
Izuku arrived.
Before he'd even sat down, Toga pushed a paper bag across the table.
"...What's this?"
"You always bring me melon bread."
"...I do."
"So..."
She looked away.
"I brought you something."
He opened the bag.
Inside...
A small pack of sea salt rice crackers.
His favourite.
"...You remembered."
She shrugged.
"You always buy those after hero patrol."
"...I noticed."
Izuku looked at the crackers for a long moment.
Then back at her.
"...Thank you."
She smiled.
"...I meant it."
"I know."
After he left that afternoon...
One of the rehabilitation counsellors happened to walk beside Toga through the corridor.
"You seem happier."
Toga looked confused.
"...Do I?"
"You laugh more."
"I do?"
"And..."
The counsellor smiled.
"...you smile before he arrives."
Toga stopped walking.
"...What?"
"You start smiling when visiting hours begin."
The counsellor continued on her way.
Leaving Toga standing perfectly still.
That evening...
She stared at the ceiling above her bed.
I smile...
Before he gets here?
She replayed every visit in her head.
The bread.
The puzzles.
The terrible jokes.
The walks.
The hot chocolate.
His smile.
His laugh.
The way he always listened.
The way he never interrupted.
The way he remembered everything she said.
Her heart felt...
Strange.
Not uncomfortable.
Just… Warm.
"...Weird."
She placed a hand against her chest.
"...Am I getting sick?"
Elsewhere...
Izuku wasn't doing much better.
He sat in his apartment surrounded by open paperwork.
None of it had been touched.
His notebook lay open beside him.
Normally it was filled with observations from patrol.
Today...
The page simply read:
‘Toga smiled today before I even said hello.’
He stared at the sentence.
"...Why did I write that down?"
He'd noticed.
Immediately.
Without thinking.
He remembered the rice crackers.
The fact she'd remembered his favourite snack.
The way she'd looked almost nervous handing them over.
A small smile spread across his face.
"...She's doing really well."
Then...
He froze.
The smile slowly disappeared.
"...Oh."
He leaned back in his chair.
"...That's..."
"...probably not good."
He knew that feeling.
He'd had it before.
With Ochaco.
His heart sank.
"...Seriously?"
The next visit...
Everything felt...
Different.
Not awkward.
Just...
Different.
Toga noticed he seemed quieter.
"...You're thinking."
"I am."
"You've got your thinking face."
"...I have a thinking face?"
"You've always had a thinking face."
He laughed despite himself.
"...I didn't know that."
"I notice little things."
The words left her mouth without thought.
Then...
Both of them froze.
She noticed little things.
Because...
He'd taught her to.
Slowly...
She looked down at the table.
"...Midoriya?"
"...Yeah?"
"...I think..."
She frowned.
"...Something's changing."
Izuku's heart skipped.
"...Changing?"
She nodded slowly.
"I don't know what."
She laughed nervously.
"But… everything feels different when you're here."
Silence.
Long.
Fragile.
Then she looked up with complete sincerity.
"...Is that normal?"
Izuku looked into her golden eyes.
Saw no manipulation.
No games.
Just genuine confusion.
He smiled gently.
"...I think..."
"...it might be."
Outside the window...
Cherry blossom petals drifted quietly past.
Neither of them realised it yet.
But somewhere between melon bread, board games, hot chocolate and tiny acts of kindness...
Neither teacher nor student had noticed the lesson had quietly changed.
They were no longer just learning how to care for another person.
They were slowly...
Learning how to fall in love.
Toga spent the next week avoiding the question.
Not Izuku.
Just...
The question.
Everything feels different when you're here.
She'd asked it.
He'd answered.
And somehow...
That had only made things worse.
"...You're smiling again."
Toga immediately frowned.
"I'm not."
"You are."
"I'm thinking."
The rehabilitation counsellor laughed.
"You always smile when you're thinking about him."
"...I do not."
"You just did."
"I hate that you're observant."
"So does half the staff."
Toga sighed dramatically.
"...Traitors."
By the time visiting hours arrived...
She'd almost convinced herself she'd imagined the whole thing.
Then Izuku walked through the door.
She smiled.
Immediately.
"...Oh."
She quietly covered her face with both hands.
"...There it is again."
Izuku tilted his head.
"...Everything alright?"
"...No."
"...Should I be worried?"
"...Probably."
He blinked.
"...Probably?"
She slowly lowered her hands.
"I've got another question."
He smiled.
"I thought you might."
They walked through the gardens together.
Cherry blossoms had begun carpeting the paths.
The rehabilitation centre had never looked more peaceful.
Toga stopped beneath the same tree they'd sat under the week before.
"...How did you know?"
Izuku looked at her.
"...Know what?"
"When you liked someone."
The question caught him completely off guard.
"...Oh."
He rubbed the back of his neck.
"I..."
He laughed quietly.
"...I'm not actually sure."
"You don't know?"
"I don't think there was one moment."
He looked up into the blossoms.
"It was lots of little ones."
"I looked forward to seeing her."
"I wondered how her day had been."
"I noticed things that made her smile."
"I wanted to tell her about things that happened to me."
He smiled to himself.
"And..."
"...I realised my day always seemed a little brighter when she was in it."
Toga listened carefully.
Every single word.
"...Oh."
"...Oh."
She said it again ten minutes later.
After they'd said goodbye.
After he'd gone home.
After she'd returned to her room.
She sat cross-legged on her bed.
Counting on her fingers.
"I look forward to seeing him..."
One finger.
"I wonder how his day's been..."
Another.
"I notice when he smiles..."
A third.
"I want to tell him things..."
A fourth.
"My day gets better when he's here..."
A fifth.
She stared at her hand.
"...Oh no."
She flopped backwards onto the mattress.
"...Oh, that's definitely love."
She buried her face in a pillow.
"...This is terrible."
There was a knock at the open door.
"You alright?"
The counsellor poked her head inside.
Toga didn't move.
"...No."
"Bad day?"
"Worse."
"...Want to talk about it?"
A muffled voice emerged from the pillow.
"...I think I love Midoriya."
Silence.
"...That's the emergency?"
Toga lifted her head.
"...Isn't it?"
The counsellor smiled gently.
"I was expecting something much worse."
"It is worse!"
"I don't know what I'm supposed to do!"
She sat up, waving her arms
dramatically.
"I finally figure out what healthy love feels like..."
"...and of course it's him!"
The counsellor couldn't help smiling.
"Why 'of course?'"
"Because he's..."
She searched for the words.
"...He's the first person who ever treated me like I could become someone better."
Her expression softened.
"He listened."
"He stayed."
"He remembered."
A tiny smile appeared despite herself.
"He even remembers my favourite bread."
She sighed.
"...I'm doomed."
That evening...
Izuku wasn't having a much easier time.
He sat in the common room of his apartment building with a mug of tea growing steadily colder.
His phone buzzed.
Ochaco: ‘You okay? You seem distracted lately.’
He stared at the message.
Then typed.
‘Can I ask you something?’
The reply came almost immediately.
‘Of course.’
He hesitated before sending the next message.
‘What do you do if you realise you're starting to like someone...
...and you're not sure they're ready to hear it?’
Three little dots appeared.
Disappeared.
Appeared again.
Finally...
‘You wait. If you really care about them, you don't rush them. You let them get there in their own time.’
Izuku smiled.
‘...Thanks.’
‘Any time.’
He put his phone away.
"...She's right."
The following Saturday...
Neither of them mentioned love.
Neither of them mentioned feelings.
Instead...
They played another board game.
Toga absolutely cheated.
Again.
"You moved that piece."
"I strategically relocated it."
"That's still moving it."
"The rules never specifically said I
couldn't."
"They absolutely do."
"...Tiny technicality."
Izuku laughed so hard he had to wipe tears from his eyes.
"...You're impossible."
"I've improved."
"You have."
She blinked.
"...Really?"
He nodded.
"You still cheat."
"...I do."
"But..."
He smiled warmly.
"...you're smiling because you're having fun now."
"Not because you're trying to hide."
The room became quiet.
Toga looked down at the game board.
Then back at him.
"...You notice everything."
"Not everything."
"...Enough."
She smiled.
A real one.
Not forced.
Not mischievous.
Just...
Happy.
As they packed the game away, neither of them said what they were thinking.
Izuku thought:
She's not ready.
Toga thought:
I'm not ready.
Strangely...
Neither thought made them sad.
Because for the first time...
They both understood something important.
Love wasn't something that had to be chased.
Or forced.
Or taken.
Sometimes...
It simply grew.
Quietly.
Patiently.
One small act of kindness at a time.
Spring was giving way to summer.
The rehabilitation centre gardens looked different now.
The cherry blossoms had long since disappeared.
Bright flowers lined the pathways instead.
The little robin had returned too.
This time...
It landed on the bench beside Toga.
She smiled.
"...Hi."
The bird tilted its head.
Then remained exactly where it was.
Izuku noticed immediately.
"It trusts you."
Toga looked at the robin in surprise.
"...It does."
"You didn't try to make it."
"No."
"You just..."
She smiled softly.
"...let it decide."
The bird chirped once before fluttering away.
Toga watched it disappear into the
trees.
"...I think I finally understand."
They settled onto their usual bench.
It had become their bench over the past few months.
Nobody had ever said that aloud.
It simply...
Had.
For a while they watched people tending the gardens.
A nurse chatted with one of the residents.
Someone laughed near the greenhouse.
The whole place felt… Alive.
"So..."
Toga broke the silence.
"I've got another question."
Izuku laughed.
"I'd have been worried if you didn't."
She rolled her eyes.
"...Don't get used to it."
"I think it's a little late."
"...Fair point."
She smiled.
Then looked down at her hands.
The smile faded into something quieter.
"...I know what this feeling is now."
Izuku's heart skipped.
"...You do?"
She nodded.
"...Yeah."
"It took me long enough."
She gave a tiny, embarrassed laugh.
"...Normal people probably work it out faster."
"I don't know about that."
She looked at him.
"...I love you."
There it was.
No dramatic speech.
No fireworks.
Just three honest words.
Spoken with a voice that trembled ever so slightly.
Because she still wasn't completely sure she'd said them correctly.
Izuku looked at her.
Really looked at her.
The girl sitting beside him wasn't hiding behind a grin anymore.
She wasn't trying to shock him.
Or provoke him.
Or make him uncomfortable.
She was simply...
Being honest.
"...Thank you."
The words slipped out before he'd had time to think.
Toga blinked.
"...Thank you?"
He immediately laughed.
"That... wasn't the response I'd planned."
She snorted.
"...You're hopeless."
"I know."
He rubbed the back of his neck.
"I just..."
He smiled sheepishly.
"I'm really happy you felt comfortable enough to tell me."
She stared at him for a second.
Then...
She laughed.
Really laughed.
"You are so unbelievably weird."
"I've heard that before."
"From me."
"Quite a few times."
The laughter faded.
Comfortably.
Izuku took a slow breath.
"...Can I ask you something?"
She looked across at him.
"...You usually do."
He smiled nervously.
"...Can I..."
His eyes drifted towards her hand
resting on the bench between them.
"...hold your hand?"
Silence.
Toga blinked.
"...That's all?"
He looked confused.
"...Should it be more?"
"I don't..."
She looked down at her own hand.
"...You're asking?"
"Of course."
"...You don't just..."
She made a grabbing motion with her
fingers.
"...Take it?"
He shook his head immediately.
"No."
"It has to be your choice."
The words settled over her.
Your choice.
Nobody had ever said those words to her before.
Not like this.
Not about something so small.
Not about something so important.
She slowly lifted her hand.
Her fingers trembled.
Not from fear.
From unfamiliarity.
She placed it gently into his waiting hand.
"...Yes."
Their fingers intertwined.
Warm.
Comfortable.
Safe.
Neither of them spoke.
There was no need.
After a long moment...
Toga whispered,
"...This feels nice."
Izuku smiled.
"...Yeah."
"It does."
Several quiet minutes passed.
The afternoon breeze carried the scent of fresh flowers through the garden.
Toga found herself absent-mindedly tracing tiny circles against the back of
Izuku's hand with her thumb.
She froze.
"...Am I allowed to do that?"
Izuku looked down.
Then smiled.
"...Do you want to?"
She nodded.
"...Yeah."
"Then yes."
She resumed the tiny movement.
A smile slowly spread across her face.
"...Okay."
"...Okay?"
"I like asking."
Izuku blinked.
"...You do?"
She nodded thoughtfully.
"It feels..."
She searched for the right word.
"...Safe."
He squeezed her hand gently.
"I'm glad."
"...Midoriya?"
"Hm?"
"I've got one last question."
He laughed.
"I was wondering when we'd get there."
She looked down at their joined hands.
Then back at him.
"...If I asked..."
She swallowed.
"...Would you..."
"...be my boyfriend?"
The words left her mouth in a rush.
Almost before she'd decided to say them.
The instant they were out...
Her eyes went wide.
"...I SAID IT WRONG!"
She buried her face in her free hand.
"I was supposed to wait!"
"I rushed it!"
"I've only just figured out what love is!"
"I-"
"Himiko."
She stopped.
Slowly lowering her hand.
Izuku's smile was as gentle as ever.
"...Yes."
She blinked.
"...Yes?"
He nodded.
"I'd like that very much."
For a heartbeat...
She simply stared at him.
Then the biggest smile he'd ever seen spread across her face.
Not wild.
Not manic.
Not forced.
Just… Peacefully happy.
"...Really?"
"Really."
Without thinking...
She leaned sideways.
Resting her head carefully against his shoulder.
"...Can I do this too?"
Izuku smiled.
"...You already are."
"...Right."
She laughed quietly.
"...I'm still learning."
"I know."
"So am I."
She looked up.
"...You are?"
He nodded.
"I've never done this before either."
That surprised her.
"...Really?"
"Really."
She smiled to herself.
"...Good."
"...Good?"
"That means..."
She gently squeezed his hand.
"...we can learn together."
Later that afternoon...
The head of the rehabilitation programme met them at the front gates.
"I've got some good news."
Toga looked up.
"...Oh?"
"We're approving your first supervised afternoon leave."
Her eyes widened.
"...Really?"
"You've worked hard."
"You've earned it."
She looked instinctively towards Izuku.
Then immediately back to the
programme director.
"...Thank you."
This time...
The gratitude came as naturally as breathing.
A few minutes later...
The gates opened.
For the first time in years...
Himiko Toga walked beyond them.
Not as an escape.
Not as someone running away.
Simply...
As someone taking the next step forward.
She looked around.
The world felt strangely big.
"...Midoriya?"
"Hm?"
"...You'll keep teaching me?"
He smiled.
"Only if you'll keep teaching me too."
She tilted her head.
"...What could I possibly teach you?"
He thought for a moment.
Then answered honestly.
"You already have."
"...What?"
He looked at her.
Not the villain she had been.
Not the patient she'd become.
Just Himiko.
"You taught me..."
"...that no one is beyond hope."
Her eyes shimmered.
Unable to think of anything clever to say.
So instead...
She simply took his hand again.
This time...
Without asking.
Because now she knew.
If she ever wasn't sure...
She could.
And if she ever forgot...
He would remind her.
Together, they stepped out into the
afternoon sunshine.
Not as a hero and a former villain.
Not as a teacher and a student.
Just two people...
Learning. Together.