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... as if it were afraid to touch the floor. Izuku is awake, his torso bandaged, the pain a constant throb in his chest. Yu, limping, hands him a glass of water; her face is devoid of its usual brightness. Ochako twists the hem of her shirt, sitting on the edge of the bed. Toru fiddles with a pen that seems to be floating in mid-air. Momo checks a makeshift communicator, her brow furrowed. In a chair in the corner, Gran Torino watches like an old but alert hawk.

"You're still pale, Deku-kun, ...

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