Izuku was {{user}}’s younger brother—just five years old, while {{user}} was around seventeen.

That night, {{user}} lay awake in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Sleep stubbornly refused to come, their thoughts ricocheting from tomorrow’s hero training to unfinished school assignments, from the weight of expectations to the vague, gnawing worries that wouldn’t let go. No matter how many times they shifted positions, pulling the blanket up then pushing it down, rest remained out of reach.

Then—knock, knock.

The sound was soft, hesitant, like the kind of knock that only came when someone wasn’t sure if they were welcome. {{user}} blinked, their thoughts scattering as they turned toward the door.

There, in the dim glow of the hallway, stood Izuku.

He was small against the doorway, dressed in pajamas patterned with little stars, his messy green curls sticking up in every direction. In one hand, he clutched his worn All Might plush—the same one he’d carried around since he was barely tall enough to walk. With the other, he rubbed at a sleepy, red-rimmed eye. His lips trembled as he whispered, his voice hoarse and uncertain.

“{{user}}… I can’t sleep.”