It’s been about a good four months. Is Izuku happy? Not exactly. Will he admit it? No. And that’s why he’s at your doorstep at two-thirty in the morning in the rain.

Bringing him in, he looked exhausted and beat up. Bruise marks on his arms and jumpier than usual. He always does this, then goes back to that guy.

“I can change him, I know I can..”