The next day...
SQUEEEAK… SQUEEEAK…
The wheelchair's rubber wheels squeaked against the linoleum as Midoriya navigated the hospital corridor with all the grace of a newborn giraffe.
His arms, still encased in lightweight casts from wrist to elbow, made steering a creative exercise in determination and physics-defying stubbornness.
Ryuu looked up from his manga...some mindless shonen thing Kirishima had left behind...as his door opened with a soft *click*.
"Need help?" he asked, already knowing the answer.
"I got it!" Midoriya said brightly, immediately proving himself wrong by nearly crashing into the doorframe.
He overcorrected, spun slightly, then finally rolled to a stop beside Ryuu's bed with a triumphant grin. "See? Total control."
"You're a disaster," Ryuu said, but he was smiling. "Recovery Girl actually cleared you for that thing?"
"She said, and I quote, 'If you're determined to be reckless, you might as well do it where I can monitor you.'" Midoriya's green eyes sparkled with mischief. "I'm choosing to interpret that as an approval."
Ryuu snorted, marking his page. "How are the arms?"
"Better!" Midoriya lifted them slightly, wincing at the movement. "Still can't do much, but the bone regeneration is progressing faster than expected. Recovery Girl thinks another week before the casts come off, then physical therapy for a month after that." He paused, expression sobering. "Could've been worse. If you hadn't coordinated everyone when you did..."
"Don't," Ryuu said quietly. He could see the guilt written across his friend's face."You went Full Cowling at percentages your body couldn't handle. We both made choices."
"Yeah, but mine just hurt me. You—"
"Saved everyone," Ryuu interrupted firmly. "Including your self-sacrificing ass."
They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of shared experience settling between them like a familiar blanket.
Outside the window, late afternoon sun painted the room in amber tones.
Finally, Midoriya spoke again, voice softer. "Can I ask you something?"
"Shoot."
"How do you handle it? Having a quirk that hurts you when you use it?"
Ryuu's eyes widened slightly. Of all the questions he'd expected... "I thought I was supposed to be the one with quirk angst," he deflected weakly.
"I'm serious." Midoriya's gaze was steady, intense in that way that made him seem far older than seventeen. "One For All is destroying my body every time I push past my limits. I know it, All Might knows it, everyone knows it. But I keep doing it anyway because people need saving and I'm the only one who can—" He cut himself off, jaw tightening. "Sorry. That sounded arrogant."
"It sounded honest," Ryuu corrected. He shifted in bed, careful of his still-healing ribs.
"You want the truth?" he asked. "I'm still figuring it out. Every time I pushed past my limits with Resonance, I knew I was risking burnout. But in the moment, when people I care about are in danger..." He gestured helplessly. "The math changes. Their safety matters more than my pain."
"All Might says power without control is just destruction," Midoriya murmured. "But sometimes you need destruction to protect people."
"Controlled destruction," Ryuu agreed. "That's the key word. You're learning to push your limits without shattering yourself. That's progress."
"At my current rate, I won't reach All Might's level until I'm thirty," Midoriya said, frustration bleeding into his tone. "Maybe older. And the world needs heroes now."
"The world needs heroes who survive long enough to actually help people," Ryuu countered. "What good is reaching All Might's level if you destroy yourself getting there?"
Midoriya looked down at his casted arms, silent.
"Besides," Ryuu continued, gentler now, "you're already a hero. You think anyone cares about percentages when you're pulling them out of danger? They just see someone who showed up when it mattered."
"How do you handle everyone's expectations?" The question burst out of Midoriya like he'd been holding it back for hours. "People look at you and see this perfect support hero who can make anyone stronger. They don't see the cost. They just see results and want more."
"*Sigh*"
Ryuu recognized the look in Midoriya's eyes.
The weight of expectations....of being more than just yourself.
"I remember why I wanted to be a hero in the first place," Ryuu said after a long moment. "Not for them...for me. Because when I was a kid and my quirk first manifested, I made my mom smile by amplifying her joy. That feeling? Making someone genuinely happy? That's what I'm chasing. Everything else is just noise."
Midoriya's eyes widened. "That's... that's really beautiful, actually."
"It's survival," Ryuu corrected with a crooked smile. "If I tie my worth to what others expect, I'll never be enough. There's always going to be someone who thinks I should do more, be more, sacrifice more. But if I focus on the moments that made me fall in love with heroism..." He shrugged. "That's mine. They can't take that away."
"When did you get so wise?"
"Probably when my quirk burned out and I had a week to stare at the ceiling and contemplate my life choices."
"Heh...hehehaha" Midoriya laughed...a real laugh, bright and genuine.
Until...
Bang!
The door slammed open with explosive force.
"OI! DEKU!"
Both boys jumped as Bakugo stormed in, his perpetual scowl somehow even more pronounced.
His ribs were still taped, and he moved with a slight hitch that suggested Recovery Girl's orders to rest were being thoroughly ignored.
"Kacchan!" Midoriya yelped, wheelchair rolling backward slightly. "What—"
"The hell are you doing in here socializing like it's a damn tea party?" Bakugo demanded, jabbing a finger at Midoriya. "You're supposed to be recovering, not gossiping like extras!"
"We were having a conversation," Ryuu said dryly. "Also, hi Bakugo. Nice to see you too."
Crimson eyes snapped to him. "Don't start, Resonance. And you—" He pointed at Midoriya again. "Recovery Girl's looking for you. Something about 'unapproved wheelchair joyrides' and 'reckless disregard for medical advice.'"
Midoriya paled. "Oh no."
"Oh YES. Now get your broken ass back to your room before she hunts you down." Bakugo's scowl somehow deepened. "And you," he turned to Ryuu, "don't die."
Ryuu blinked. "What?"
"You heard me. Don't. Die." Bakugo's jaw clenched, and for just a moment, something that might have been genuine concern flickered across his face. "When you're back at full power, I'm gonna need you at peak performance. Can't do that if you're dead or permanently fucked up."
It was possibly the most Bakugo expression of caring Ryuu had ever witnessed.
"I'll do my best not to give up," he said solemnly. "Wouldn't want to rob you of your dramatic rivalry moment."
"Damn right." Bakugo turned on his heel and stalked toward the door, then paused. "Also, that coordination thing you do? With multiple quirks at once? Figure out how to do it better. It's useful. Don't waste it."
And with that stunning display of emotional constipation masquerading as encouragement, he left.
"..."
"..."
Midoriya and Ryuu stared at each other.
"Did Bakugo just... compliment you?" Midoriya asked slowly.
"I think so? I'm not entirely sure."
"He definitely told you not to die."
"That was the clearest part, yes."
"That's character growth right there," Midoriya said decisively. "He's experiencing character growth and doesn't know how to process it."
"Or he's planning to murder me himself once I'm healthy and wants to make sure no one else gets to me first."
"...Also possible."
"Heh"
"Hehe"
"Hahaha"
"Hahahaha"
They dissolved into slightly hysterical laughter, the kind that came from too much stress and too many emotions with nowhere else to go.
"Haha—good one, heh"
When it finally subsided, Midoriya was wiping his eyes (awkwardly, with his casted arms) and grinning.
"I should probably actually go before Recovery Girl sends a search party," he admitted. "But, uh, thanks. For the talk. I needed that."
"Anytime," Ryuu said genuinely. "We trauma-bonded now. Pretty sure that makes us bros."
"Bro status accepted," Midoriya said with mock seriousness, then attempted to execute a wheelchair turn and immediately got stuck between the bed and the wall. "...Help?"
Ryuu laughed, climbing out of bed to guide him. "What a disaster."
"It's totally under control!" Midoriya protested.
"Uh-huh."
---
After Midoriya finally left (with only two more minor collisions), Ryuu settled back against his pillows and picked up his manga.
He'd read maybe three pages when another knock sounded.
"Come in," he called, expecting a nurse.
Momo entered carrying a stack of textbooks that should have required a small cart.
Ryuu's eyes widened. "Are you planning to study or build a fortress?"
"Study, obviously," she said, somehow balancing the entire stack on one arm while closing the door with the other.
Her quirk efficiency was terrifying. "We've missed a week of classes, and exams are in three weeks. I've prepared supplementary materials organized by subject, difficulty level, and—" She paused, actually looking at him. "Why are you smiling like that?"
"Because you're you," Ryuu said warmly. "Most people would be focused on recovery. You brought homework."
A faint blush colored her cheeks. "I'm perfectly capable of multitasking. Besides, maintaining academic standards during crisis is—"
"Momo."
She stopped mid-sentence.
"Sit down. Breathe. You're allowed to just... exist without optimizing something."
For a moment, she looked like she might argue. Then her shoulders sagged slightly and she carefully set the books on his bedside table before sinking into the visitor's chair.
"I don't know how to just exist," she admitted quietly. "When everything feels chaotic, control helps. Structure helps. Having a plan and executing it perfectly means—"
"It means nothing goes wrong," Ryuu finished. "Except things went wrong anyway. And no amount of planning could have stopped it."
Her hands clenched in her lap. "I should have done better. If I'd been faster, more efficient with my quirk usage, maybe—"
"Momo." He reached out, gently taking one of her hands. "You did everything right. We all did. And we still got hurt because sometimes, no matter how perfect we are, bad things happen."
Her dark eyes met his, suspiciously bright. "I was terrified," she whispered. "When those villains attacked, when The Collector appeared...I wasn't scared of dying. I was scared of failing everyone. Of not being good enough when it mattered most."
Ryuu's chest tightened. He squeezed her hand. "You held the line...that's not failure, Momo. That's heroism."
A single tear escaped, tracking down her cheek. "Then why do I still feel like I didn't do enough?"
"Because you care," he said simply. "Because you're brilliant and capable and you hold yourself to impossible standards because you're terrified that anything less means you're worthless. But you're not. You're worth everything, Momo. Plans and perfect execution and flawless grades aside...you're worth everything just by existing."
"Nnn-ahh…"
She made a small, broken sound and suddenly she was out of the chair and on the bed, curled against his side, crying into his shoulder.
Ryuu wrapped his arms around her and held on, letting her shake apart in the safety of his presence.
Eventually, the tears subsided. She didn't pull away, just stayed tucked against him, breathing slowly.
"I know about Mina," she said quietly.
Ryuu's heart stuttered. "What?"
"Yesterday. I saw her leaving your room very early in the morning." Momo's voice was calm, measured. "Her clothes were rumpled, her hair was mussed, and she had that particular smile people get when they've been thoroughly satisfied."
Heat flooded Ryuu's face. "Momo, I—"
"I'm not angry," she interrupted gently. "I'm not even surprised. You two have been building toward that since the training camp. The emotional connection, the physical attraction, the trust..." She shifted slightly to look up at him. "I actually think it's beautiful. What you have with her."
"But—"
"Let me finish." Her hand found his, threading their fingers together. "I've been thinking about this a lot. About us. About what we are and what we could be. And I've realized something." She paused, gathering her thoughts with characteristic precision. "Love isn't a finite resource. What you feel for Mina doesn't diminish what you feel for me, does it?"
"No," Ryuu said immediately. "God, no. You're both—" He struggled for words. "You're different. What I have with her is different from what I have with you, but neither one is less important."
"Exactly." Momo smiled, soft and genuine. "I've analyzed my feelings extensively....don't laugh, it's how I process....and I'm genuinely comfortable with this. With polyamory, if that's what we're calling it. I don't feel jealous or inadequate. I feel... hopeful. That there's space for both of us in your heart."
Ryuu stared at her, overwhelmed. "You're incredible. You know that?"
"I'm logical," she corrected, but she was still smiling. "And slightly controlling, and possibly overthinking this entire conversation, but—"
He kissed her.
It was soft, tentative, asking permission even as he took it. She made a small surprised sound against his mouth, then melted into him, her hand coming up to cup his face.
When they finally broke apart, both breathing slightly harder, Momo's cheeks were flushed and her eyes were bright.
"That was..." she started.
"Overdue," Ryuu finished.
"I was going to say 'statistically likely given the emotional intimacy of this conversation,' but overdue works too."
He laughed, and she joined him on the bed, and for a moment the hospital room felt less like a recovery ward and more like a bubble of perfect comfort.
"Before everything happened," Momo said eventually, still tucked against his side, "we had plans for the weekend after the field trip."
Ryuu remembered.
They'd talked about exploring physical intimacy, taking their relationship beyond emotional connection.
Then The Collector attacked and everything went to hell.
"I remember," he said softly.
"I understand if you're not ready," she continued. "After everything that's happened, the trauma, the recovery—"
"I want to," Ryuu interrupted. The words came easier than expected.
Momo's hand tightened in his. "Then when you're cleared from the hospital... my room?"
"Your room," he agreed.
She shifted to kiss him again, deeper this time, full of promise and want and the kind of certainty that came from truly knowing what you wanted.
When she finally pulled back, her mask had slipped entirely, replaced by something warm and open and breathtakingly vulnerable.
"I should probably let you rest," she murmured, though she made no move to leave.
"Probably," Ryuu agreed, his arms still holding her close, unwilling to let go.
"And, oh—by the way… Mina and I didn't do any of those things you imagined," Ryuu added with a slight smile, eyes drifting shut.
"I-is that s-so..." Momo stammered, her face burning crimson as she buried herself deeper against his chest, hiding her embarrassment in the warmth of his embrace.
---
That evening, after Momo had reluctantly returned to the dorms (Recovery Girl's strict "visiting hours are over" policy applied even to worried girlfriends), Ryuu attempted something he'd been avoiding.
He sat cross-legged on his bed, closed eyes, and reached inward, searching for any trace of his quirk.
But...
Nothing.
The same hollow emptiness that had greeted him for days.
No warmth, no connection, no sense of the emotions around him.
Just...
Silence where Resonance used to hum.
He tried harder....surely he could sense something...
Still nothing.
His chest tightened with frustration.
Recovery Girl kept saying his quirk would return, that burnout was temporary, but what if—
'No.' He forced the thought away. It would come back. It had to.
He just had to be patient....
-----
Author's Note: two exam papers down guys!!!