AN: For those of you who saw the incorrect chapter, sorry about that.

For everyone else: You saw NOTHING. NOTHING, you hear?

The next day, it quickly became apparent that Izuku wasn't joking or exaggerating in the slightest about the difficulty of learning to walk again, or the pain.

"Fuck!" Rumi swore as she toppled forwards again, her weak, traitorous leg buckling underneath her. The floor rushed up to greet her as she desperately tried to break her fall, but it was too late. Rumi braced for impact as she was-

Caught by Izuku's strong, steady arms at the last moment, letting her cling to his shoulder as he guided her back into an upright position.

Soothingly, he told her, "It's fine. You'll get there."

Rumi snorted humorlessly as bitter frustration coursed through her, fueled by the need to grit her teeth as constant waves of pain radiated from her screaming leg muscles. She retorted, "When? When will I get there? Because I've got four fucking days to get this right, remember?"

Rumi and Izuku had been at this for nearly an hour; the very first thing had done when he'd arrived was strap a simple prosthetic leg to Rumi's stump, more or less a fancy, advanced peg-leg that was a simple piece of metal for her to push against, cushioned from the tender skin of her stump by as much padding as he could physically add.

Rumi had spent the first thirty minutes just trying to stand up; the false leg and missing arm meant her balance was completely screwed up. Even when she could stand without immediately pitching forward, Rumi hadn't even been able to take a single step without going down. The mix of her horrible balance and the agony that shot up her leg every time she put any amount of pressure on the limb kept making her messed-up knee buckle instantly. She probably would have knocked herself out on the tiled floors by now if Izuku didn't keep catching her.

"The only reason you only have four days is because you're too proud to talk to the media sitting down," Izuku pointed out.

Rumi narrowed her eyes, and her ears stiffened slightly, a sign of her growing irritation. "It's not because of pride," she growled.

"Then why are you so damn stubborn about walking out to that press conference under your own power?" Izuku asked, his hands crossed over his chest.

Rumi thought of Hitomi, of the fire that burned in her silver eyes when she spoke of Miruko, and the worry she felt for her missing hero. Rumi imagined how the girl would react if she saw her hero battered and broken, not standing tall that Miruko should.

Through gritted teeth, Rumi replied, "I'm doing this because anything less goes against everything I'm supposed to stand for."

Of all the responses Rumi expected from Izuku, rolling his eyes was one she hadn't considered. And yet, there Izuku was, muttering, "Fucking heroes."

"Aren't you the one who told me that I mattered to people and I should try to live up to their faith in me?" Rumi pointed out, gripping the foot of her bed for support as she tried to stand up.

God, just standing up felt so liberating, Rumi wanted to laugh. How far had she fallen to feel so much happiness over something so small?

Izuku responded, "Yeah, but I was expecting you to commit to your recovery, not make demands your body can't meet!"

Rumi stared down at her throbbing leg, at where the stump disappeared into layers and layers of padding that didn't do a damn thing to make it hurt less. "I'll manage," she insisted.

Izuku replied, "That's the problem, Rumi. You can't just "manage" when you're dealing with something like this. If something goes wrong, it could fuck up your entire recovery."

Rumi knew that; before they'd even started, Izuku had lectured her on the dangers she was inviting, from undoing the work of shaping her stumps, to causing sores that could permanently damage her ability to wear a prosthetic at all in the future, to risking cuts and infections. Even so, she wasn't going to stop, not when she had something to prove.

"Then we just have to make sure that nothing goes wrong," Rumi told Izuku, "Now, are you going to help me do this or not?"

Izuku sighed loudly as his shoulders slumped; his eyes shone with pride even as his mouth set in an unapproving grimace. He said, "You are a stubborn, reckless idiot with no regard for your own health."

"So a normal hero, then?" Rumi joked, even as she felt the pain in her leg steadily worsening, making her arm tremble as she tried to brace herself, forcing herself to stay upright.

"Unfortunately," Izuku sighed.

"Then what does that make you?" Rumi asked. Even as she spoke, though, her amputated leg's shrieking and fatigue got worse and worse; now, she was practically leaning on her one good arm just to stay upright. The pain had changed, too; instead of a steady ebb and flow of agony, it was pulsing, growing, getting more and more intense as Rumi's strength slipped away.

Izuku seemed to notice it, too, but he still replied lightly, "Your enabler, obviously."

Rumi barked out a laugh, but it was obviously shaky. She hissed, "Okay, let's do this."

Izuku raised an eyebrow skeptically, but he spread his arms wide, standing barely three paces away from Rumi. "Okay," he said, "remember, just try and walk to me. One foot in front of the other, it doesn't matter how slowly you're going."

Rumi nodded, took a deep, unsteady breath, and focused. "One foot in front of the other," she repeated in her mind, "it's just three steps. You can do this."

Rumi closed her eyes, then opened them again. Without another word, she let go of the bed, swinging her prosthetic leg forwards. She felt a vibration run up it as the false foot hit the floor. Slowly, she shifted her weight, hoping that this time it wouldn't fail her, and-

As soon as Rumi felt a bolt of concentrated agony shoot up from her stump, so strong it left her barely able to feel the whole leg, she knew that this attempt was going to end even worse than the others. She threw her arm out as she tipped over, yelling, "SHIIIIT!"

Just like before, Izuku was already moving before she fell, his arms encircling her, supporting her before she could topple. Rumi felt his solidly-built chest under her hand, and she couldn't explain the way her skin heated up a little.

A wave of disappointment crushed everything else in her mind, though, and she swore, "For fuck's sake, I thought-AGHHHH!"

Rumi cut herself off with a tortured yell as Izuku tried to right her, and weight came back to her half-gone leg. It felt like she'd been stabbed right in the stump, the pain was so sharp and universal.

Instantly, Izuku said, "Rumi, get on the bed, and off that leg. Now."

Even as tears of pain built up at the corner of her eyes, Rumi hissed, "No, I'm okay, I can-"

Before she could even finish, Izuku pushed her backwards onto the bed, making her eyes go wide as her back struck the mattress. Izuku moved too quickly for even Rumi to react, and soon, he was sitting next to Rumi as she lay flat on her back, lifting her prosthetic leg into the air.

Rumi protested, "Hey, what the hell, Doc? I can keep going, I swear!"

As his fingers undid the straps that fastened the prosthetic to Rumi's stump, Izuku fixed her with the most scathing look in his arsenal. It instantly made Rumi's ears wilt in terror, cowing her enough for him to say dryly, "I'll be the judge of that, and the executioner, if I want to be."

Rumi bit back hisses and grunts of pain as Izuku pulled the prosthetic off fully, revealing her skin glowing an angry red color. When Izuku put a finger against the end, Rumi cried out, all her attempts to suppress the noise failing as agony transfixed her.

In an exasperated tone of voice, Izuku asked, "Rumi, why didn't you tell me that the pads were chafing?"

Rumi froze; in fact, she'd noticed the uncomfortable rubbing pretty soon after the prosthetic had first been put on, but she had been so determined to make progress that she hadn't told Izuku.

Guiltily, she muttered, "Because I didn't want to make you worry, and I thought I could tough it out."

Izuku rolled his eyes again. Flatly, he told her, "Rumi, that was stupid. Trying not to worry me doesn't help, and you can't "tough this out." You'll only make it worse."

Rumi sighed as Izuku grabbed a container of lotion and began working it into her stump, the cooling sensation draining away the pain. She replied, "Yeah, yeah, I know, Doc."

"I hope you do," Izuku retorted, "because this could have been much worse if it kept going."

Rumi blinked in surprise and asked hopefully, "So...this isn't that bad?"

Izuku continued to massage Rumi's painful stump as he huffed, "Honestly? No. We caught it before it started to blister, so this won't slow you down too much. We'll take a twenty-minute break and then get back to work."

If Rumi wasn't already lying limply on the bed, she would have flopped down like a cranky teenager. "Do we have to?" she whined.

"Yes," Izuku said calmly as he gave Rumi's stump one last work-over with his gentle fingers, then let her leg drop down to hang just over the edge of the bed.

Grumpily, Rumi hefted herself with her arm until she was sitting up next to Izuku. She said, "Ugh, fine. What are we going to do with this break?"

Izuku shrugged and responded, "I don't know, what do you usually do with your breaks?"

Rumi tilted her head in confusion as she stared at Izuku. She told him, "I don't take breaks, Doc! I'm a top pro, I'm always working."

Izuku squinted at Rumi's defiant pose for a long moment, his expression thoroughly unimpressed. Eventually, he slumped and muttered, "It's a goddamn miracle none of you top pros end up in the hospital for nervous breakdowns instead of losing half your internal organs or some shit like that. I'm pretty sure every fucking one of you is insane."

Rumi shrugged and replied, "Look, I've always just given my all to everything I do, and it's not like I have many interests outside of being a hero."

"Or any interests," Rumi thought to herself. She'd become a hero with the same single-minded drive that had won her so many fights; there had never really been room or time for anything else, even things she sometimes wished for.

Izuku stared evenly at Rumi, and she found herself wondering about his interests. At the end of the day, she realized, she barely knew anything about him, other than his work. And something in her wasn't satisfied with that.

So she asked, "What about you? Any hobbies?"

Izuku couldn't help the hollow chuckle that Rumi's words forced out of his throat. "Not anymore," he replied evasively, "med school took the same kind of focus from me."

Rumi's ear flicked; she'd heard the hidden layers Izuku couldn't keep out of his voice, and she pressed, "What do you mean, " not anymore?"

Izuku didn't particularly appreciate Rumi prying like this, but after a moment, he figured it was a good way to get her to sit still until her leg was ready to keep going. He answered, "I, uh, I used to be a pretty big hero fan."

Rumi supposed that that made sense, though the bitterness in Izuku's words as he said "used to be" made her feel hollow grief at the thought of a boy filling his life with symbols of a dream he could never reach, and those symbols souring more and more with every passing year.

"Oh?" she asked, "how big of a hero fan are we talking here?"

Izuku winced as embarrassing memories came to the forefront of his mind. With a blush spreading over his cheeks, he admitted, "My room might have been mistaken for a hero merchandise store if you walked into it without context."

Rumi chuckled softly as she teased, "It sounds like you were a huge fucking hero nerd, Izuku."

"I was," Izuku replied casually.

Rumi asked, "What hero was your favorite? Because if your room was like a shrine to Endeavor or something, I'm going to make so much fun of you."

Izuku raised an eyebrow. "Why Endeavor specifically?" he asked, earning himself a smirk and a glare from Rumi.

She replied, "Do I need a reason? He's just a little bitch."

"Didn't he save your life?" Izuku pointed out. Rumi fought back the tide of agonized thoughts, half memories and half fever dreams from that terrible day, and shrugged instead.

"Sure," she admitted, "and he has my gratitude for that. But he's still a little bitch."

Izuku pretended to think about it for a second, then nodded sagely. "You know what? You're absolutely right," he agreed, "and for the record, my favorite hero as a kid was All Might."

Rumi told him, "You know, I'm not surprised, honestly. He's a good choice."

Izuku looked surprised. He mused, "That's kind of unexpected coming from you, honestly, what with the whole retirement business that went down after Kamino. I thought you'd be all dismissive of him for being "weak."

Rumi snorted loudly. Crossing her arms, she scoffed, "Please, there's no way I'm gonna insult that kind of move. The guy beat the strongest villain Japan has ever seen by himself."

"Second strongest, now," Rumi corrected in her head, remembering the reports she'd heard about what Shigaraki had done to the city after she'd gone down, and the way her danger sense had shrieked when it saw him. She'd never felt anything like it, before or since. But he'd been forced to retreat eventually, and even though he was technically still out there, the heroes had won a brief reprieve.

"He did," Izuku agreed, "and he's still awesome, even if I get cranky every time I think about him hiding an injury that bad."

Rumi grinned at the thought of what Izuku would have done to All Might if given the chance. She asked, "Did you ever have him as a patient?"

"Nope," Izuku answered regretfully, "if I had, though, you can bet your ass I'd have dealt with him."

Rumi pictured the Number One Hero getting taken to task by a doctor half his age, and she laughed. Izuku grinned as Rumi nearly doubled over before finally recovering.

Then, another thought came to her. Rumi asked, "You know; I'm kind of curious about something...what's the most memorable patient you've had?"

Recognizing another opportunity to keep Rumi occupied, Izuku stroked his chin, thinking of the best stories he could remember. He joked, "Other than you?"

"Of course," Rumi cracked, "after all, nobody else can get under your skin like I can."

"You're absolutely right on that one. You are the most irritating patient I've had, that's for sure," Izuku agreed.

"I consider that a professional compliment," Rumi replied airily.

Izuku retorted, "Trust me, it is."

They both laughed, slowly trailing back into silence as Izuku gathered his thoughts.

At last, he began, "Well, I can think of one pretty memorable patient. You remember when Ingenium got hurt a few months ago?"

Rumi nodded, her brow furrowing as she recalled the incident. "He got hurt by that Stain fucker, right? The one Endeavor beat during the Hosu Incident?" she asked.

Izuku nodded in confirmation, then continued, "Anyway, Ingenium-I call him Tensei-got transferred here when it became clear just how bad his injury was. His spine was damaged so badly that for a while, we thought he might not be able to walk ever again."

Rumi winced in sympathy for a familiar situation. She wondered, "But isn't he back on the job now? I thought I remembered seeing something about that…"

"Yeah, well, who needs a spine, anyway?" Izuku responded, grinning, "not him once I helped design a whole new brace structure for his costume that let him walk and use his quirk again, that's for sure. Oh, and I also gave him extra rocket boosters for the hell of it."

"Hang on, you just...fixed a spine injury, just like that?" Rumi said in surprise.

"Sure," Izuku answered with a shrug, "this isn't the best hero hospital in the country for no reason, Rumi."

"So, is that why Ingenium was memorable?" Rumi asked.

"Oh, not quite," Izuku told her, "I remember it because of the talk I had with Ingenium's brother. He came in so devastated and angry over his brother's injury, he was obviously gonna do something stupid like try to "avenge" Ingenium."

"Hang on...you're talking about that Iida kid from the sports festival, right? The one with a stick the size of Mount Fuji up his ass?" Rumi asked, recalling the boy from her own viewing of the event.

Izuku nodded, snorting at Rumi's description. "The very same," he confirmed.

"So, what did you do?" Rumi prompted.

Izuku replied, "Oh, nothing too serious. When I was done explaining the path forward to Tensei and his family, I told the kid to wait behind. When he did, I told him that if he did anything to distract his brother from recovering and healing, I would personally break his legs and stick him in the room right next door to his precious brother."

Rumi snorted in spite of herself, saying, "And he just... accepted that?"

"Of course he did," Izuku responded, "I can be very convincing."

"Now that, I know from experience," Rumi muttered.

Izuku laughed, but even as he did, he was struck by a thought; for all that Rumi knew about him, he didn't know much about her. He decided to change that.

Izuku said, "So, now you know who my favorite hero is, but I'm curious...who's yours?"

"Oh, I uh…" Rumi stammered, not expecting the question and turning slightly red at being caught off guard.

Once she'd recovered, Rumi retorted, "What's it to you?"

Izuku shrugged. "I'm just curious," he admitted, "I've always wondered who Miruko could possibly look up to."

Rumi smiled gently at Izuku's admiring tone as she mused, "I guess it's only fair to answer...but I'm not sure you'll know who it is. She's a pretty...old-school hero."

"Uh, hello?" Izuku joked, gesturing at himself, "hero nerd, remember? Try me."

Rumi couldn't really argue against that. Taking a deep breath, she said, "You know Maverick?"

Izuku's eyes widened slowly, and he wracked his mind. Eventually, he replied, "Vaguely, I think. She was...before our times, right?"

"Sure," Rumi confirmed, "she died...not long before we were born, I think. But that doesn't change the fact that she's the single most badass hero I've ever seen. When I was a little girl, I saw a clip of her, fighting some villain, and...I've never wanted to be like someone as badly as I did then. She was just so...strong, and confident, and determined, it inspired me. She was everything I wanted to be. I always wished I could fly just like she could...although my jumps sometimes felt close."

Izuku nodded, looking as though he'd never expected this opportunity to hear something like this from someone he admired. He added, "I mostly know about her because she was supposedly All Might's mentor."

Rumi hadn't known about that, but it just added another wrinkle to her favorite hero. Then, she remembered how Maverick had died, too, like all the heroes seemed to these days, and a dark thought crossed her mind, a return to a place she only came back to in low points.

Hanging her head, Rumi muttered, "I wonder if she ever felt as weak and pathetic as I do right now."

Izuku heard her, and his heart flared with determination. He put a hand on Rumi's shoulder and said in a soft, urgent voice, "I guarantee you, she did, Rumi."

"What, did you somehow have her as a patient, too?" Rumi asked sarcastically, bitterness papering over the frustration that welled up inside her. How could she claim to want to be like her hero when she couldn't walk, when she was letting down the little girls that looked up to her the way Rumi had, sometimes still did, to Maverick?

"No," Izuku replied, "but I've treated enough heroes to know that they're just like everyone else. They're stupid, and scared, and sometimes they hit rock bottom and wonder if they really mean anything, if they're actually capable of what they thought they were.

Rumi's heart ached; she felt like Izuku had stripped away every layer of defense she'd built, cut right through to her true feelings. She hated it, but appreciated it more than she could ever say at the same time.

His eyes soft and understanding and kind, Izuku continued, "We all have those moments when we don't think we can go on, Rumi, every single one of us. We grow from them, we survive them. Trust me, you will, too."

Rumi felt her spirits lifting again, as Izuku's smile filtered into her like sunlight. Maybe he was right. He hadn't lied to her yet, after all.

Even as she felt better, managing a soft smile, Rumi felt her curiosity returning. She decided to chance something. Izuku had told her more about himself today than he ever had...and maybe she could answer the burning question she'd had about Izuku, ever since she'd first noticed his flinches and his pauses.

Izuku Midoriya was hiding something; some secret of his past was lying just behind the mask of the cocky, abrasive doctor he wore so naturally. Rumi intended to find out what, to satisfy this burning fascination with him that she'd begun to harbor.

So Rumi asked, "What was yours?"

Izuku faltered, his smile dropping. Confused, he responded, "I'm sorry, what?"

"You said that everyone has a lowest point," Rumi repeated, her voice soft and hopeful and maybe a little more vulnerable than she would have liked, "What...what was yours?"

Now, Izuku's expression slammed shut faster than a storm door, his smile fading, replaced with a steely, unreadable look that seemed to hide a thousand warring emotions. Rumi watched Izuku pull back, severing the easy flow they'd built without realizing.

With an expression that suggested that he was trying not to get angry at her, Izuku growled, "It was a long time ago, that's what. Now, your leg should be ready to go again; are you gonna walk, or are you gonna sit around asking me questions I'm not gonna answer?"

That was as definitive a rejection as Rumi had ever seen, and she cursed herself for trying. She should be happy with what Izuku gave her, dammit! He wasn't here to satisfy her curiosity, and yet...Rumi couldn't help her intrigue when it came to him.

One way or another, Rumi swore, she'd learn more about Dr. Izuku Midoriya.

But for now, she hauled herself into position as she said, "Yeah, good idea, Doc."

Izuku never made eye contact as he fastened the prosthetic back on, and stood up again. Rumi didn't force it.

This time, she made even less progress than she had the first time before she toppled over, barely getting caught by Izuku. Honestly, she was kinda surprised that he'd caught her at all; by the look on his face, even he was surprised by the speed he'd moved at.

That gave her hope that maybe she hadn't hurt him as badly as she had before, or maybe he was learning to deal with her ability to get under his skin, to draw out his secrets one by one the way he drew out her pain.

With Izuku's help, Rumi righted herself, gritted her teeth, and tried again, swinging her foot, keeping her weight back until she was absolutely sure of the footing, and...plummeted to the ground yet again.

Rumi didn't care about the pain already throbbing in her leg; she barely noticed the way Izuku's hand lingered over hers as she stood back up. Her whole being was focused on her goal, just like she always had been.

Four days until she would walk out in front of the whole world, and tell them that she would come back, no matter the cost.

She was going to do this.