epilogue

Uraraka, Iida, Tsuyu, and Todoroki are waiting for him right outside the nurse's office after the last bell. He feels a bit groggy from his rest, but it evaporates the moment he sees them all standing there. He can't help but smile.

"Deku!" Uraraka's soft brown eyes are wide and full of both concern and relief. "How are you feeling?" She curls her hand around his forearm.

"Better," he says with a small smile, and means it.

Lean on your friends, All Might told him. They're here for you.

They walk back to the dorms at a leisurely pace, and Iida and Uraraka give him a little rundown of what he missed that day with the occasional interjection from Tsu and Todoroki. A tricky piece of grammar from Mic's class that not even Bakugou could get right, they started ceramics in art class, some varied bits of secondhand gossip from Kaminari and Mina. They avoid talking too much about Hero Classes, which still stings to have missed, nor do they ask what was wrong, which he appreciates. Talking to them about his dreams will have its time and place.

"I just can't believe that Mic has enough energy to muster up so much enthusiasm for teaching English grammar on top of his radio show and hero work!" Ochako yawns. "I'm exhausted just thinking about it."

"I'm convinced neither he nor Aizawa actually sleep," Todoroki agrees.
"Well, we already know Aizawa doesn't, ribbit."
"Being a hero truly does mean having to do it all!" Iida, for some reason, sounds a bit grim.

Most of the class stays at Heights Alliance for dinner that night, a communally prepared meal consisting mostly of soba, both hot and cold, with and without sauce, as well as various other odds and ends people prepare. Midoriya sits at a table in the common room with Iida and Todoroki, who share their notes and give more details about the lessons he missed. When the food is almost ready and the three start putting away their books, Satou approaches him, carrying a covered plastic food container.

"Midoriya," he says, and glances down at box before looking back up. "Here. These are for you. They're energy bars." A very light blush covers his nose and cheeks. "I made them––they have whole grains and nuts, are you allergic to nuts? But not too much sugar, like store bought ones. They're a good substitute if you don't have time for breakfast in the morning."

Izuku cracks the lid. They smell like peanut butter and cinnamon and it fills him with warmth like the soup did, back in Recovery Girl's office. "Thanks, Satou, they smell great. I'm sure they're delicious!"

Satou gives him a sheepish but genuine smile and the warmth grows.

On his way up to his room, he passes Jirou coming down from hers. "Oh, Midoriya," she says, and he stops. She hesitates.

"Yeah?"

"I have, uh, noise canceling headphones you can borrow, if you want. Though, personally, I prefer a white noise machine, you know, because it's something to hear."

Oh. Oh. "I have the AlbaSoundTM App on my phone, actually."

Jirou shakes her head. "That one's okay, but I think NiveusTM is better."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. It has more customizations and options like rain and static, and you can mix your own track too."

"I'll download it tonight. Thanks for the recommendation."
Jirou nods and passes him. Midoriya turns to watch her go. Warmth, all the way down.

Dinner is a tasty if unorthodox meal, as it usually is when 1-A gets together and cooks. Izuku contributes a little to the various conversations, but mostly just takes the time to revel in their closeness. Afterwards, he does dishes with Yaomomo and she's able to give him even more insight into the day's classes, correcting or elaborating one some of what he, Iida, and Todoroki discussed.

When they've finished, she dries her hands on a towel and tells him to wait while she rifles through one of the cabinets and withdraws a small metal tin from its depths with a quiet aha! She pulls the lid off to show the contents of various dried flowers, herbs, and tea leaves. Midoriya can smell chamomile and lavender, as well as something earthy and sweet he can't identify.

"Making tea always helps me calm down," she admits, capping the container. "The whole ritual of it... boiling the water, measuring the leaves, letting it steep... it's just such an easy way to take a moment and slow down. This one is one of my favorites. My mother used to prepare it for me when I was younger and couldn't sleep." She smiles with the memory. "It's got passionflower and hawthorn berries, and you're welcome to help yourself. If you really like it, I'd be happy to get you a tin of your own––it can be a bit tricky to find in stores."

Izuku wills himself not to cry, but his eyes are glassy anyway. "Yaoyorozu, that's... thank you. I'll definitely try it."

She gives him a bright smile in response. "I'm happy to help."

Tonight, he dreams again. He's in the forest, and he's not. He's in Kamino Ward, and he's not. He's somewhere dark and large and strange and open and cold, and he's not. In the physical world, he rolls around on his bed, his face twists with fear. Images, sounds, and feelings flash through his unconscious mind: Muscular, Shigaraki, Nomu, Aizawa, All Might, Kacchan. Izuku awakens with a hoarse gasp and shoots straight up. He sits, panting in the darkness.

The little clock on his desk reads 00:37 and he scrubs at his eyes and tries to catch his breath. UA wasn't built in a day, he tries to remind himself but it's hard to hear his thoughts over the fear that still makes his heart slam against his rib cage. He remembers some of the nightmares but not a lot, a fact for which he is grateful.

For the first time, he doesn't lie back down and reach for his phone to scroll through various hero- reporting sites, like he's used to doing. If he stays here he knows he'll just be thinking about his dreams all night, again, lying there awake with his fear. So instead, he throws aside his blankets and slips on his slippers and makes his way quietly downstairs.

Down in the kitchen, he turns on a single overhead light and gets to work. He fills their electric kettle with cold water and while he waits for it to boil he takes out a mug and the tin that Yaomomo showed him earlier. He opens it up and breathes in the floral and herbal scent and just breathes. Those dreams aren't real, but this tea is real, and the dorm is real, and he's real, and his friends are real, too.

There's a small noise behind him and he spins around, nearly flinging tea leaves everywhere. Kacchan glares blearily at him from one of the sofas, his spiky hair sleep-mussed and even spikier than usual.

"Oi," he calls, his own voice hoarse. "Turn off that damn light."
"S...Sorry," Izuku says, but doesn't turn off the light. He puts the tin back on the counter. "I'll be done in a few minutes."

Kacchan makes a strangled, frustrated sound before he drops back down onto the cushions. Izuku frowns and retrieves a teaspoon from a drawer, his heart rate up a little bit from the surprise. He didn't expect to run into anyone, but especially not Kacchan. Two tea strainer balls sitting beside the rest of the silverware catch his eye. He had still been out in the common room when Bakugou had left for bed, just a few hours ago, really. Every hero you've ever admired has, at some time or another, been kept awake by nightmares.

"I'm making tea. Do you want some?"

"What I want is for you to shut up and turn off that light."

Izuku turns back to the counter. He picks up the little metal strainers and fills them with tea. He takes down another mug and drops one inside and when the water is boiling he pours two cups. He carries one over to the sofa where Kacchan lies on his back, an arm draped over his face.

"Hey." He holds out the mug. "Here."

Two red eyes glare at him from under an elbow. He places the mug down on the coffee table and turns, intending on picking up his own tea and bringing it to his room to steep.

But Kacchan calls him back. "Oi." He sits up. "What?"

All he does is glare, again, and then he turns his head. "I thought you were trying to surpass me," he grinds out. "How d'you expect to do that if you keep passing out everywhere?"

Huh. Look at that. He wasn't able to save Kacchan. He wasn't able to save Kacchan, he wasn't able to reach forward and grab him from the villains' hands, he wasn't even able to lift his arm. But still. After that, after thirteen years, Kacchan is still... here. He's still here, right in front of him.

"I'm working on it." He takes a few steps towards the kitch. "Enjoy the tea."

Kacchan grunts in response and Izuku picks up his mug and just holds it for a moment. The heat from the porcelain seeps into his palms and though he knows it still needs a minute or two to steep, he takes a sip. Warmth. All the way down.

"Hey! Are you deaf or just stupid? Turn off the light!"