The first thing he notices as consciousness slowly returns to him is a dull, bone-deep ache throughout his entire body. His limbs are like dead weights, not moving no matter how hard he tries, and even his eyelids feel so heavy he can barely find the strength to open them.

And he should be more panicked than he is, he thinks.

But even in his fuzzy, barely-conscious state, it doesn't take him long to recognize the steady beeping, the rush of footsteps in the hall outside, the constant murmur of quiet conversation.

If he had the energy, he thinks wearily, he would groan.

In the hospital again, for the third time in as many months; he just knows he's going to get a real long lecture from Recovery Girl about this later.

"Finally awake now, are you?" grumbles a familiar voice, and Toshinori finally succeeds in forcing his eyes open.

Turning his head (which takes way more effort than it ought to), he sees a familiar, weathered old face sitting on a chair to his left, features twisted into a grimace.

"Sensei…" he bites out with a groan. "How long…?"

"Four days," replies the older hero. "You were in even worse shape than usual when they brought you in. You almost died, with all the energy Shuuzenji had to use for your body to heal enough to operate on."

"I almost…died…?" he asked, eyebrows furrowing as he tries to remember what exactly had happened. All his memories of that horrendous fight seem to just blur together, making it hard to really pick out any concrete details. The encounter felt like it had to have dragged on for days, though realistically, it really couldn't have been any more than fifteen minutes. The only thing he can really remember with any clarity is…

"The kid!" he gasps suddenly, his heart rate leaping into double time as his mind flies back to messy black curls and wide, frightened green eyes.

His sensei raises an unimpressed eyebrow, and his gaze pointedly travels to a point near Toshinori's right shoulder.

Following the gaze, Toshinori notices a little body curled into his side, little hands clutching tightly at his shirt and using his arm as a pillow.

Something inside him unclenches at the sight, relief flooding his body instantly.

"He hasn't left your side once since the incident," Gran Torino explains, voice sombre, and Toshinori looks up at him in surprise.

"He hasn't?" he asks. "But…what about his parents?"

Gran Torino raises an eyebrow.

"You mean to tell me you don't know who that child is."

"Should I?" asks Toshinori, perplexed.

Gran Torino is silent for a few moments longer, and Toshinori feels his heart break as he recognizes that expression in his old mentor's face - the wary watchfulness, the quiet concern of someone about to deliver bad news.

"His name is Midoriya Izuku."

And suddenly, Toshinori understands.

And there's a part of him that's so unbelievably happy because here he is.

Midoriya Izuku.

The child that he (that everyone) have been looking for for so long now, ever since All Might had failed to save him all those years ago.

Toshinori had always hoped that maybe he'd be able to find peace, when Midoriya-kun was saved, once everything was right with the world again.

But nothing is right with this.

Nothing can change the fact that little Midoriya-kun had been held against his will by that monster for four whole years.

And nothing can change the fact that Midoriya Inko is dead.

Subconsciously, he feels his arms tighten around the child lying next to him.

"What will happen to him?" he asks, tearing his gaze away from the ten-year-old to look back at Gran Torino.

"They haven't decided yet," replies Gran Torino with a shrug. "There are some people in the government who are suspicious of him."

"Suspicious?" asks Toshinori, voice disbelieving. "What on Earth could they possibly be suspicious of? He is a child."

Gran Torino rolls his eyes.

"Well, you know how those politicians are - they'd be suspicious of their own shadow. They haven't really been able to do anything though, as the child's face has been plastered all over the news the entire time you've been out. You know how the masses love a good miracle rescue story, and the media's just been milking it for all its worth."

"It won't stay like that for long, though…" replies Toshinori, his tone dark. "Once the public find something else to coo over, he'll be at the government's mercy…"

Gran Torino grunts in agreement.

"They've already tried their darnedest to put him with Endeavour's family," he says, not even trying to mask the distaste in his voice. "It would be a win-win situation for them. They can have their number 2 hero spying on the kid to make sure he's not gone dark side, while getting on the public's good side too, for putting him with such a prestigious family, who even has a son around his age."

Toshinori can't help the growl that starts building in his chest.

"Over my dead body," he snaps.

Gran Torino shrugs.

"They tried to convince the kid for hours, but he absolutely refused to leave your hospital room. They even tried to bodily remove him, but he cried and screamed so hard that eventually, the doctors and nurses kicked them all out. Apparently, the sound of the kid's crying caused your body to start exhibiting signs of distress."

Toshinori finds he isn't all that surprised.

He hasn't even exchanged more than a few words with the child, but it's absolutely terrifying how quickly he's gotten so attached to him.

"…Does he know yet…? About his mother?" asks Toshinori quietly, looking back at Izuku.

Gran Torino is silent for so long, Toshinori wonders if perhaps his mentor has fallen asleep.

"No," he says, finally.

Toshinori can already feel his eyelids getting heavy again.

"Will you let me tell him?" he asks, fighting against unconsciousness to stay awake for just a few moments longer.

"I can't promise you, but they haven't said anything yet, so it should be fine," admits Gran Torino, voice suspicious. "What are you up to, Toshinori?"

"Nothing at all," murmurs Toshinori in reply, tucking the child closer into his embrace.

He wonders, idly, how hard it would be both a superhero and a single father.