The morning sun filtered through the hospital room's blinds in precise horizontal stripes, painting Ryuu's prone form in alternating light and shadow.
He'd been staring at those stripes for three hours now, watching the angle change as the sun climbed higher. It was easier than thinking. Easier than feeling.
Or rather, easier than 'not' feeling.
The silence in his head was deafening.
For the first time since his quirk had manifested at age five, Ryuu Kazama couldn't sense a single emotion beyond his own.
No ambient background radiation of human feeling, no subtle currents of joy or anger or fear washing over him from the nurses walking past his door.
Just... nothing.
He raised his right hand, studying the IV line taped to his forearm.
Flexed his fingers.
Tried to activate Resonance.
The emptiness that answered was physically painful, like reaching for a limb that had been amputated.
"You're awake early."
Recovery Girl's voice made him jump slightly.
She stood in the doorway, her diminutive form backlit by the corridor's fluorescent lights, medical chart tucked under one arm.
"Couldn't sleep," Ryuu admitted, his voice rough from disuse.
She nodded as if she'd expected that answer, shuffling into the room with the practiced efficiency of someone who'd spent decades treating traumatized students.
Her cane clicked against the linoleum in a steady rhythm.
"Your classmates are being discharged today," she said, reviewing his chart. "Most of them, anyway. Midoriya-kun will need a few more days for his arms, but the others are healing well."
Ryuu's chest tightened.
He hadn't seen any of them since the attack.
Hospital policy kept him isolated for the first forty-eight hours, something about preventing infection in quirk burnout cases.
But he suspected it was more about giving him space to process.
"How are they?" he asked. "Really."
Recovery Girl's dark eyes studied him over the rim of her reading glasses. "Physically? They'll recover fully with time. Psychologically?" She set down the chart. "That depends on a lot of factors. Including how you're handling this."
"Me?"
"You coordinated them during the attack. Pushed your quirk past its breaking point to keep them fighting effectively." Her tone was clinical but not unkind. "They're worried about you, Kazama-kun. Especially Ashido-san and Yaoyorozu-san."
The mention of their names sent a phantom pain through his chest....like his quirk trying and failing to reach out, to sense their emotional states, to confirm they were okay.
"I can't feel them," he whispered. "I can't feel 'anything'. It's like I'm locked in a sensory deprivation tank inside my own head."
Recovery Girl pulled up a chair, settling into it with a quiet sigh. "Complete quirk burnout is rare, but not unheard of. Your Resonance will return, but it needs time to rebuild from the ground up. Like regrowing a limb, not just healing a wound."
"How long?"
"Weeks. Maybe a month." She held up a hand before he could protest. "But you'll start feeling traces within days. Small things....like emotional impressions from people you're close to, brief flickers of connection. It won't be the overwhelming flood you're used to. Think of it as your quirk learning to walk again."
Bang!
The door opened before Ryuu could respond, and suddenly the room was full of people.
His classmates poured in like a tidal wave of concerned faces and nervous energy....Kirishima with his arm in a sling, Jirou with her leg still bandaged, Ochaco moving carefully to avoid aggravating her shoulder.
Behind them came Tsuyu, Iida, Todoroki, and more.
Even Bakugo skulked in at the back, trying to look indifferent and failing.
The last time Ryuu had seen most of them, they'd been fighting for their lives.
"Kazama-kun!" Iida's voice was as stiff and formal as ever, his hand-chopping gestures only slightly hampered by the bruising on his ribs. "We wanted to express our gratitude for looking after everyone in that catastrophic time."
"Dude, read the room," Kirishima muttered, elbowing him gently. "You sound like a textbook."
But then Kirishima turned to Ryuu, and his trademark sharp-toothed grin was nowhere to be seen.
Instead, his expression was painfully earnest. "Seriously though, man. You saved their asses...even ours."
Even Momo spoke up about how her Creation quirk had required less body fat per item, making her combat sustainability far better.
Ryuu listened in silence, trying to process their gratitude when all he could think about was his failure.
"I pushed too hard," he said quietly, cutting through the chorus of praise. "My quirk is completely burned out. I can't sense any of you. Can't coordinate. Can't amplify. I'm..." He struggled for the right word. "Useless."
The room fell silent.
Then Bakugo's explosive voice shattered the quiet.
"Are you fucking KIDDING me right now?!"
Everyone turned to stare at him.
Bakugo pushed his way forward, his red eyes blazing with anger....but not the usual competitive fury. This was something rawer.
"You think being temporarily without your quirk makes you useless? You coordinated an entire class of idiots against professional villains while that metal freak was actively hunting you. You pushed your quirk past its limits knowing what would happen because the alternative was watching people die."
He jabbed a finger at Ryuu, wincing slightly as the movement pulled at his cracked ribs.
"That's not weakness, you dumbass. That's what heroes do. They sacrifice themselves to protect others." Bakugo's scowl deepened. "Just... don't die while you're recovering, got it? When your quirk comes back, I want to you at full power. Not some handicapped version."
The declaration was so perfectly Bakugo....aggressive concern wrapped in competitive bravado....that several students cracked smiles despite the heavy atmosphere.
"What Bakugo is trying to say," Todoroki interjected smoothly, "is that your worth isn't determined solely by your quirk's functionality."
"I said what I said!" Bakugo snapped.
"We know," Todoroki replied with the ghost of a smile. Then he looked at Ryuu directly. "Some of us understand what it's like to have our identity wrapped up in our quirks. To feel lost without them." His dual-colored eyes held understanding born from his own complicated relationship with his abilities. "But you're more than Resonance. You proved that during the attack through your tactical thinking and leadership, not just your amplification."
"Plus," Kirishima added, trying to lighten the mood, "you've got like, the entire class ready to help you through recovery. That's gotta count for something, right?"
"Indeed!" Iida's hand-chopping resumed with vigor. "As your classmates and fellow heroes-in-training, it is our duty...nay, our privilege to support you during this difficult time!"
"Oh my god, please stop talking like a robot," Jirou groaned, but there was fondness in her exasperation.
The banter continued around him, his classmates gradually relaxing into more normal interactions.
Until the 'little king' saw a nurse step into the room....her crisp white uniform hugging her figure, stockings gleaming under the sterile hospital lights, and a calm smile softening her features.
"I think I just found the cure to all my problems… and it's wearing white stockings!"
SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!
Mineta's head snapped back as multiple hands struck him at once, leaving him clutching his cheeks with a whimper while the room glared daggers at him.
Kaminari tried to cheer Ryuu up with terrible jokes.
Even Tokoyami offered a characteristically dark but oddly comforting observation about "emerging from darkness stronger than before."
But through it all, Ryuu couldn't help noticing two very obvious absences.
Mina and Momo weren't here.
His heart clenched at the realization.
Were they too injured to visit? Or was it something else? Without his quirk, he couldn't get even a vague impression of where they were or how they felt.
The uncertainty was torture.
"Wher—" he started, but his voice cracked. He tried again. "Where are Ashido-san and Yaoyorozu-san?"
The room fell silent again, but this time it was different.
His classmates exchanged knowing looks, small smiles playing at the corners of mouths.
"They're coming," Ochaco said gently. "Recovery Girl wanted them to let the rest of us visit first. Something about not overwhelming you."
"Those two have been camped outside your room since you were admitted," Kirishima added with a grin. "Like, literally. Sleeping in the hallway, refusing to leave. The nurses had to bring them food."
Tsuyu nodded. "Recovery Girl finally convinced them this morning that they needed to shower and change clothes before visiting. Ribbit. They were very reluctant."
Despite everything....the pain, the emptiness, the fear...Ryuu felt warmth bloom in his chest. Not from his quirk, just from the simple knowledge that they'd been here. That they'd stayed.
"They care about you, man," Kirishima said, his voice uncharacteristically soft. "Like, "really" care. The way Ashido-san was crying when they brought you in..." He trailed off, shaking his head. "I've never seen her like that."
"Yaoyorozu-san was equally distressed," Iida added. "Though she expressed it through obsessive analysis of the attack rather than overt emotional display. Coping mechanisms vary, but the underlying concern was identical."
Bakugo snorted from his position by the door. "Whatever. Point is, those two aren't going anywhere. So quit moping about being temporarily useless and focus on recovery."
"Bakugo!" several students protested his bluntness.
"What? It's true!"
Before the argument could escalate, Recovery Girl shooed them toward the door. "Alright, alright. You've said your pieces. Kazama-kun needs rest, and several of you should still be in your own beds. Out, out!"
There was a chorus of goodbyes, well-wishes, and promises to visit again.
Todoroki gave a solemn nod. Midoriya...who'd been quiet throughout, his casted arms resting awkwardly in his lap, wheeled his chair closer.
"Kazama-kun," he said quietly, his green eyes intense with understanding, "I know what it's like to feel broken. To push your quirk too hard and face the consequences. But..." He smiled, that determined expression that had carried him through countless battles. "You come back stronger. Always. And you don't have to do it alone."
The simple sincerity in his voice made Ryuu's throat tight.
"Thanks, Midoriya-kun."
As the green-haired boy wheeled himself out, Bakugo paused in the doorway. He didn't turn around, just spoke over his shoulder.
"Don't you dare stay weak, Resonance. When you get your quirk back, I want to beat you at full power. Not some half-assed version." Then, so quietly Ryuu almost missed it: "You did good, idiot."
And then he was gone, leaving Ryuu alone with Recovery Girl and the echo of his classmates' support.
The elderly hero studied him for a long moment. "Feel any better?"
"I... yeah. A little." It was true, surprisingly. The visit had helped more than he'd expected.
"Good. Because those two young ladies are probably staging a coup in the hallway as we speak." Recovery Girl chuckled. "I'll send them in shortly. But Kazama-kun?"
"Yes?"
"What you're feeling right now....the emptiness, the fear, the sense of uselessness...it's all normal for someone experiencing quirk burnout. Don't try to push through it alone. Lean on your friends. Let them support you while you heal." Her expression softened. "You spent so much energy keeping them fighting during the attack. Now it's their turn to keep you standing."
Before Ryuu could respond, she shuffled out, leaving him alone with his thoughts.
But not for long.
Less than five minutes later, the door flew open and Mina burst in like a pink hurricane, Momo right behind her.
Mina's eyes were red-rimmed from crying, her typically perfect pink skin blotchy from stress and lack of sleep.
Her hands and forearms were wrapped in clean bandages, the chemical burns from her quirk overuse hidden beneath white gauze.
She'd clearly been crying recently...her yellow eyes were watery and her breath came in short, sharp gasps.
But the moment she saw Ryuu awake and sitting up, her face crumpled.
"You IDIOT!" she sobbed, crossing the room in three quick steps. She would have thrown herself at him if Momo hadn't grabbed her shoulder gently.
"Careful of his injuries," Momo said softly, but her own composure was clearly hanging by a thread.
Her typically immaculate appearance was disheveled...hair tied in a messy bun, her clothing rumpled from days of hospital sitting, dark circles under her eyes suggesting she'd slept even less than Mina.
"I don't care!" Mina protested, but she did slow down, approaching the bed more carefully. When she finally reached Ryuu's side, she sank into the chair and grabbed his hand with her bandaged fingers. "You scared the hell out of me. Out of both of us!"
"Ashido-san is correct," Momo added, settling into the chair on his other side. Her hands trembled slightly as she reached for his free hand. "Since the Collector talked to you, you've been out of it. Even when we tried to comfort you, it felt like you were slipping away."
Ryuu looked between them, seeing the raw fear and relief in their expressions, and felt something break open in his chest.
Not his quirk....that was still a silent void. But something equally important.
The facade he'd been maintaining since waking up shattered.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice cracking. "I'm so sorry. I should have been stronger, should have coordinated better, should ha—"
"Stop," Mina said firmly, squeezing his hand. "Don't you dare apologize for saving our lives."
"But I failed. My quirk is gone, you're both injured because I could—"
"Ryuu." Momo's use of his given name stopped him cold. She never used given names casually. "You coordinated all of us against professional villains while being actively toyed with. You amplified our quirks beyond what we thought possible. You kept us alive long enough for the pro heroes to arrive." Her dark eyes were fierce. "Your quirk burning out isn't a failure. It's proof of how far you were willing to go to protect us."
"The scars on my arms?" Mina held up her bandaged hands. "I'd get a hundred more if it meant you were safe. Don't you understand? Your quirk will come back. But if you'd died..."
She couldn't finish the sentence.
Her face crumpled again, tears streaming down her pink cheeks.
Ryuu felt his own eyes burning.
Without his quirk to sense their emotions, he had to rely on what he could see....Mina's desperate grip on his hand, Momo's trembling composure, the physical evidence of how much his absence had hurt them.
And suddenly, the emptiness in his head didn't matter quite as much.
"I can't feel you," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "My quirk is completely burned out. I can't sense your emotions, can't tell if you're really okay or just pretending for my sake. It's like I'm deaf and blind at the same time."
"Then we'll have to use our words," Momo said softly. "Like people without empathic quirks do every day."
"I'm scared," Mina confessed, her golden eyes locked on his. "Terrified, actually. But not of my injuries or The Collector or anything else. I'm scared of losing you. Of you blaming yourself for something that wasn't your fault."
"I'm exhausted," Momo added, her mask finally cracking to show the vulnerable girl beneath. "I haven't slept more than a few hours since the attack. I keep replaying every moment, analyzing what we could have done differently. But every scenario ends the same way....without your coordination, we would have been overwhelmed in minutes."
The raw honesty in their voices was more valuable than any empathic reading could have been.
"I don't know how to do this," Ryuu admitted. "How to exist without my quirk. It's been part of me since I was young.... I don't remember what silence feels like inside my own head."
"Then we'll figure it out together," Mina said firmly. "All three of us. Like we've been doing since this weird relationship started."
"Unconventional circumstances require unconventional solutions," Momo agreed with the ghost of a smile. "And if there's one thing we've proven, it's that we work well together even when nothing makes conventional sense."
Despite everything, Ryuu felt the corners of his mouth twitch upward. "Is this the part where you tell me you're not going anywhere?"
"Oh, honey." Mina's grin was watery but genuine. "We've already been sleeping in the hallway for hours, and not even industrial-strength villain repellent could get rid of us."
"An apt metaphor, if somewhat crude," Momo added. Then her expression turned serious. "But she's correct. Whatever comes next....from recovering your quirk, to dealing with The Collector's revelation about your father....and processing the trauma of the attack....we're facing it together."
Ryuu looked at both of them, these two amazing girls who'd somehow decided he was worth their time and affection despite all his complications.
Without his quirk, he couldn't sense their emotions. But he could see the determination in their eyes, the set of their shoulders, the way they held his hands like anchors.
Maybe he didn't need Resonance to know they were telling the truth.
"Together...?," he repeated softly.
"Always," Mina confirmed.
"Invariably," Momo agreed.
They sat in comfortable silence for several minutes, just being present with each other.
No words needed...
Just three people who cared about each other, finding comfort in proximity and touch.
Eventually, Momo glanced at Mina.
Some wordless communication passed between them....the kind that developed between people who spent a lot of time navigating complicated emotional territory together.
"There's something we need to tell you," Mina said carefully.
Ryuu's stomach clenched. "That sounds ominous."
"Not ominous, exactly," Momo hedged. "Just... important. The Collector said things during the attack. About your father."
The warmth that had been building in Ryuu's chest turned to ice.
"I heard," he said quietly. "Commander Yamamoto. Government research division. He knew things about my quirk."
"Your mother is coming," Mina said gently. "Recovery Girl contacted her the day after the attack. She should be arriving this afternoon."
Ryuu's hands tightened involuntarily on theirs.
His mother.
The woman who'd raised him alone after his father walked out.
Who'd probably known more than she'd ever told him about why Kenji had left.
Years of believing he'd been abandoned, and now...
"Hey." Mina's voice pulled him back from the spiral of thoughts. "Whatever she tells you, whatever you learn about your dad, we're right here. Okay? You don't have to process it alone."
"We understand if you need space," Momo added quickly. "Family conversations can b—"
"Stay," Ryuu interrupted. "Please. I don't... I don't want to do this alone."
The relief on both their faces was palpable.
"Of course," Momo said softly.
"Wild horses couldn't drag us away," Mina promised. "Or, you know, creepy metal villains. Already tried that, didn't work."
Her attempt at humor broke the tension, and Ryuu found himself actually laughing...a short, slightly hysterical sound, but genuine nonetheless.
They spent the rest of the morning together, talking about everything and nothing.
Mina described the festival preparations that had been happening before the attack, her dance routine she'd been planning.
Momo explained her analysis of the battle, though she kept stopping to apologize for being too clinical.
Ryuu told them about his classmates' visit, Bakugo's aggressive concern, Midoriya's understanding.
It felt almost normal.
Like they were just three teenagers hanging out in a hospital room, not survivors of a coordinated villain attack processing trauma and quirk burnout.
But around noon, the door opened and Recovery Girl poked her head in.
"Kazama-kun? Your mother has arrived."
The warmth evaporated instantly, replaced by a tight knot of anxiety in Ryuu's chest.
Mina squeezed his hand. "We're right here."
"Not going anywhere," Momo confirmed.
And when Yuki Kazama walked through that door....her eyes red from crying, her hands shaking, years of guilt and love and fear written across her face....Ryuu held onto their hands like lifelines.
"Mom," he said quietly.
And Yuki's composure finally shattered.
---
Author's Note: happy weekend and am abt to see the last episode of dispatch!!!!!