Rumi's good mood didn't last, unfortunately; a full month had solidified her self-pity and grief, made her set in her belief that she would never be a hero again.

Even so, she found herself eagerly waiting for Izuku to show up again; she told herself that it was just because he was the most interesting thing in this shithole, but really, she was hoping that his presence would chase away some of the pain that still lingered in her heart.

Sure enough, when the door of her room creaked open to reveal Izuku's tired but eager grin and curly hair, Rumi felt her mood instantly lighten, just a little.

"So, are you going to attack me again?" Izuku asked when he was sitting in a chair by Rumi's bedside.

"That depends," Rumi retorted, "are you going to call me a coward again?"

"Well, that depends on whether or not you're being a coward," Izuku told her.

Rumi felt a flare of outrage, but it couldn't motivate her to power through the sudden wave of exhaustion that swept through her. She didn't really see the point of trading barbs with this doctor, as much as it was what the old her would have done. Instead, Rumi hissed, "Just explain to me why the hell you're here."

Izuku looked up from his notebook with eyes that seemed to see right through Rumi, and didn't seem particularly impressed with what they found.

In a neutral voice, he replied, "I'm here to start planning your recovery."

Reflexively, Rumi scoffed, "Yeah, good luck with that."

Izuku tilted his head curiously. While his voice was free of judgement, Rumi couldn't lose the sensation of disappointment she got when he asked, "Why are you so determined not to get better?"

Rumi blinked in shock, stunned by Izuku's blunt, harsh words. She blurted out, "Um, excuse me?"

Izuku put down the clipboard and gave an exasperated sigh that seemed to come from somewhere deep in his chest. When he opened his eyes again, he fixed Rumi with an exasperated glare and told her, "You have sat in this room for three weeks. Losing one limb, let alone two, is a traumatic experience, I know, but you seem to have gotten this idea in your head that you were killed in that fight, not injured."

"I might as well have been!" Rumi snapped back, "my career is over, and I've never wanted to be anything other than a hero! What else is there for me?"

Izuku hung his head and said something under his breath; nobody else could ever have heard it, but Rumi had rabbit hearing, so she heard him mutter, "Gee, where have I heard that before?"

Before she could process what she'd heard, though, he retorted, "Well, not being so whiny, for one. But who says your career is over?"

"I do!" Rumi replied, waving the stump of her arm at him, "after all, it's not like this isn't going to stop me from beating up villains."

"If you really think your career is over," Izuku said flatly, "you're either stupid or giving up as soon as things get tough, and the Miruko I admire doesn't fit either of those descriptions."

In the silence that followed, Rumi wondered why she was so affected by the fact that this random doctor admired her. Did he really still have faith in her, even after seeing what she'd been reduced to? Why?

Rumi sighed, "Look, I appreciate it, I really do. But I'm just being realistic here. There really isn't anything anyone can do that will help me become a hero again. Maybe I can learn to walk again, maybe I can eventually live on my own, but I don't want to do either of those things. Not when I have nothing I actually want to do with the rest of my life."

Izuku stared at Rumi for a long moment, then told her, "You know, if you're trying to convince me you're not stupid, you're doing a really shitty job."

Rumi was so shocked, she blurted, "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Dryly, Izuku asked, "Hello? Did you forget who you're talking to? I'm the best hero prosthetic designer in Japan."

Rumi looked up and down Izuku's body; he sure didn't look like anything special. Tall, lanky, surprisingly muscular considering his occupation, with a clean-shaven face that made him look even younger than he was.

"The best in Japan? What are you, twenty-five? You look like you've barely graduated college!" Rumi observed, irritation lending her voice extra venom.

Raising an eyebrow, Izuku replied, "That glass house looks a little too fragile to be throwing stones there, Miss Usagyiyama. After all, you're the exact same age I am, and you're the Number Five Hero."

"Former Number Five," Rumi corrected, "I'm retired now."

"Current Number Five," Izuku emphasized, "and you're definitely not retired. Not on active duty, sure, but there's not a chance in hell you're retiring."

"What? Are you gonna build me some magic leg that lets me fight like I used to?" Rumi asked sarcastically, "Because guess what, I haven't found a single thing that can take more than one or two of my strongest attacks, and I'm pretty sure that any prosthetic you can come up with is gonna be on that list."

"Don't be so sure," Izuku retorted, his eyes twinkling mysteriously.

Then, Rumi's irritation and frustration drove her to push further. She demanded, "Why do you care so fucking much, anyway?"

"Like I said before, I'm a big fan of yours, and I'd hate to see your career end prematurely," Izuku replied evenly, "and besides, I swore to help people when I became a doctor. You need help, so here I am."

Something about Izuku's words grated on Rumi's volatile nerves, and she snapped, "What, am I some sort of grand fucking charity case to you? "Look at the poor bunny and her missing limbs, she's so helpless!"

Izuku snorted, "Believe me, you and I both know damn well you're not helpless."

"Then why do I feel so helpless all the time?" Rumi's traitorous brain asked. Instead of voicing the sudden vulnerability she felt, she growled, "Then what am I to you?"

Suddenly, Izuku seemed to lose his rhythm, going quiet and still; until then, Rumi hadn't even realized how naturally their words had flowed back and forth. In the odd, wrong-feeling silence, she wondered, "What did I say?"

Izuku, meanwhile, was trying to sort out exactly why Rumi's words, not to mention the sight of her in the hospital bed, was still dredging up memories he'd rather not recall.

Slowly, he began, "You're someone that needs help, and I'm a doctor. You're one of the best heroes in Japan, and we all owe you too much not to help you as much as we can. But, more than that…"

Rumi raised an eyebrow as Izuku trailed off. "More than that, what?" she prompted, more softly than she expected; somehow, she knew that this was a difficult topic for Izuku, and that stopped her anger in its tracks, just a little.

Taking a deep breath, Izuku finished, "You remind me of...someone else. Someone who got hurt, a lot like you did."

"And that's why you agreed to be the main doctor on my case?" Rumi asked, a little surprised at the lingering pain in Izuku's face.

"That's part of the reason," Izuku admitted, "but mostly, like I said, you needed help, and I've never been able to turn away when someone needs me."

Rumi nodded in understanding, before another thought struck her.

Quietly, she asked, "Do I get to know who I remind you of?"

Instantly, Rumi knew she'd pushed too far. Izuku's face became steely and closed-off. Visibly re-centering himself, he replied, "No, you don't."

There was a long pause, and then Rumi's basic decency won out over her lingering irritation and pride. Through gritted teeth, she said, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked."

"Probably not," Izuku agreed flatly, "but don't worry about it."

Still, the awkward tension remained, replacing the easy back-and forth they'd created without even realizing it. Eventually, it became too much for Rumi to bear, so she changed the subject.

"So," she mused, "what was this plan you have for my recovery, anyway?"

Recognizing the diversion, Izuku nodded once and picked up his clipboard once again. Quickly scanning it, he began, "Okay, first, could you give me a closer look at your stumps?"

Shrugging to herself, Rumi decided that it couldn't hurt, so she laid her arm flat on the bed and pulled the covers away from the remnants of her leg. Izuku leaned over her for a second, pencil tapping against his lips in a manner that would have been cute and endearing, if Rumi didn't still find herself annoyed by his very presence.

"Okay," Izuku announced after a moment, "it looks like they're almost healed enough to withstand some basic measurements and therapy."

"What kind of therapy?" Rumi asked. Izuku shot her a glare for interrupting his train of thought, but a tiny smile appeared on his face nonetheless.

He replied, "Physical therapy, obviously. Mostly just working out with a focus on getting you used to moving certain muscles that prosthetics usually rely on."

Rumi had to admit, doing some basic exercises really didn't sound that bad. Hell, it might help her with the way she'd been feeling so fucking soft and weak lately.

She agreed, "Okay, that doesn't sound so bad."

The grin that spread across Izuku's face right after that really should have been illegal, because it was the most evil thing Rumi had ever seen. He informed her, "Oh, no, it's pretty bad. It hurts like hell, especially at first. Trust me, you're going to hate it."

Rumi's ear twitched, the only visible sign of the confusion filling her mind. She asked, "Okay, what kind of fucking doctor are you, anyway? Insulting patients, enjoying telling them how much things are going to hurt…"

The shit-eating grin didn't leave Izuku's face as he answered, "I'm the kind of doctor they call in when the patients need to be insulted."

"What kind of patient needs to be insulted?" Rumi wondered.

"You," Izuku pointed out cheerfully.

Scandalized, Rumi snapped, "What are you talking about?"

Izuku didn't say anything, just raised his eyebrow for a moment until Rumi relented and admitted, "Okay, maybe the insults helped yesterday, but I still don't see why you're…"

"Such an asshole?" Izuku offered, a helpful smile on his face.

Rumi blinked in surprise a few times, then nodded, her ears perked up high.

Izuku chuckled to himself, then leaned in and explained, "I've been working with heroes for as long as I've been a doctor. Quite frankly, you are all stupid, stupid idiots. You are the worst patients imaginable, and that's when you aren't trying to go "plus ultra" and hurt yourselves even more without even recovering from your old injuries first. I'm pretty sure any hero worship or forgiveness got used up a while ago, which means that spite and irritation tend to be the most powerful emotions when dealing with you."

"Hey!" Rumi protested, "don't lump me in with them!"

"You're right, you're not like the idiot heroes who try to go back on duty dragging IV stands behind them," Izuku agreed, "you haven't become that dumb yet. On that note, if you ever do try to do anything that might re-open your wounds, exceed your limits, or rush things that can't be rushed, I will find out, and you will regret it."

Rumi couldn't help the shudder that ran down her spine at the sudden, overpowering aura of danger that was radiating from the deadly serious look on Izuku's face. Who knew that the most terrifying look she'd ever seen would come from this doctor, and not, she didn't know, a villain or a Nomu or something?

Rumi pointed out, "I'm the Number Five hero, what makes you think you can take me?"

Izuku just smiled indulgently and replied, "That won't stop me."

Honestly, Rumi believed it.

Even though she still didn't know how far she could take this, how much she really wanted to go forwards into a future that still didn't seem like a place she could live, Rumi asked, "So, when do we start?"

Izuku's grin only got wider as he answered, "Tomorrow, bright and early."

Rumi's eyes narrowed suspiciously at his cheerful tone, but she decided that that was enough back and forth for now.

Checking his watch, Izuku sighed, "I probably should be going, but I just want you to know, Rumi, that I know you can do this. It's going to be hard, and it will feel impossible sometimes, but I don't think you've ever been stopped by that before, right?"

Rumi thought back over a career of success and strength and the rush she got when she saved the day. At last, she nodded, and a little bit of her old fire shone in her eyes, not much more than a spark, but it was there. "You're right," she agreed, "it never did."

"Then it won't stop you now, either," Izuku predicted.

As he began to leave the room, though, Rumi felt something loosen in her chest, and she couldn't help the words that left her mouth.

"Izuku...thank you for believing in me," she said softly.

Izuku paused on his way out, turning back to her with a smile much softer and kinder than the one he'd just worn.

"Of course, Rumi," he replied, "I always will."

Then he was gone, and Rumi was alone again in her room and her thoughts, clinging to the memory of that smile and the spark it gave her.

For a few hours, Rumi had little to do but stare at the ceiling and think idly about what tomorrow would bring. Would she be able to get out of this bed at last? Would whatever Izuku had planned hurt as much as he'd suggested?

Well, it wasn't like Rumi had anywhere else to be, so she'd just have to face it head-on.

Then, from the direction of her door, someone said, "Psst, is anyone awake in here?"

Rumi bolted upright in surprise, her ears flying up as she asked, "Wha-who is that?"

She relaxed slightly when she saw a familiar form leaning against the doorframe, or trying to, at least.

Rolling her eyes, Rumi asked, "Hawks, what the hell are you doing here?"

The Number Two Hero, shirtless but with so many bandages wrapped around upper body that he might as well have been wearing one, rose shakily from the affected lazy pose he'd struck and chuckled, "What? Can't a guy explore the hospital in peace?"

"I didn't even know you were here," Rumi retorted, "and besides, you sure don't look up to exploring."

It was true; aside from the bandages and the shakiness in his walk, Hawks looked sickly and thin, his confident air exposed as just that, an air. In reality, his eyes looked haunted and pained, and the bright red wings that had become his key characteristic were missing entirely.

Rumi and Hawks weren't friends, really-she still thought of him using his hero name, since she didn't actually remember his civilian one-but they were the two youngest and most dynamic of Japan's top heroes, and they'd both earned some disdain from their colleagues for their...unique ways of looking at heroics. At the very least, though, they didn't hate each other, and they shared a couple things in common.

Including, apparently, the fact that they'd been hospitalized after that damn mission.

With a thin voice that had only a ghost of the cocky attitude that he'd worn so openly just a few weeks before, Hawks retorted, "Hey, appearances aren't everything. Besides, I couldn't stay cooped up in my room forever."

Now that, Rumi could relate to.

"Anyway, what are you doing in here?" Hawks asked, "if you're hurt, I can't see it."

Rumi blinked in shock, realizing that her arm stump was hidden under the covers just like her leg was. Did Hawks really not know at all? Rumi asked, "Wait, you didn't hear about it?"

With a shrug, Hawks answered, "I mean, I know you got hurt, but the news hasn't said why. In fact, I'm pretty sure nobody knows except the doctors and whoever brought you in, and they're not saying anything."

Rumi had to admit, she would never have expected that her career-ending injuries were still staying a secret. Why would the Hero Commission hold their silence like that? A question for another time, probably.

Rumi said, "You know what, here, I'll show you."

She pulled out what was left of her arm and flung the covers to expose her leg stump at the same time, saying nothing else. The Number Two hero's eyes went wide as he saw the jarring sight.

"What happened?" he asked, looking as shocked as Rumi had ever seen him.

Doing her best to suppress the memories of the fight, Rumi sighed, "Ran into a couple of those High End fuckers at once. I beat 'em, but, well...it cost me a lot."

"I can imagine," Hawks mused, "still, you're lucky to be alive."

"Funny, everyone keeps telling me that, but honestly, I'm not convinced," Rumi replied.

Hawks snorted, sounding pained even from that tiny motion. He said, "You know, I hate the fact that I understand exactly what you mean."

Rumi looked at Hawks with sympathy, noticing just how many bandages covered his body. She asked, "What happened to you?"

Hawks sighed as he sank into the chair by Rumi's bedside, looking weaker and more vulnerable than she'd ever seen him. He explained, "Got hit by a blast from Dabi while I was taking out Twice. He...fucked me up good, let's leave it at that. The only reason I lived long enough to make it to this hospital is because of my intern from UA, Tsukuyomi. Hard to imagine, right? Me getting my ass saved by a first-year student?"

Rumi let Hawks speak, but she couldn't help but imagine how weak he must have felt, being carried away from danger by a student. It wasn't unlike how she felt, come to think of it.

Hawks looked back up at Rumi, his eyes understanding on a level deeper than she would ever have been happy with before. He asked, "So, you thinking of retiring, or not?"

Rumi was surprised that he hadn't assumed she was retiring, but a little thankful, too-more than she really expected to.

She responded, "Honestly...I don't know. I thought I was done for a long time, but now…"

"But now what?" Hawks prompted.

"But now, I've got this new doctor on my case, and he's...well, he's a piece of work," Rumi admitted, "walked in here and called me a coward for not trying harder to get better."

Hawks asked, "Oh? How did you take that one?"

"I, um, may have attacked him, and missed. He said that that proved his point," Rumi confessed.

Hawks threw his head back and laughed, only to freeze as suspicion dawned on his face. Squinting at Rumi, he asked, "Wait, this doctor of yours, does he have green hair? Is he kinda young and really cranky?"

Confused, Rumi nodded. She added, "His name is Izuku Midoriya."

Hawks looked at Rumi with pity. He informed her in a grave voice, "Well, you're doomed."

"Huh?" Rumi asked, cocking her head in confusion.

"Because, your new doctor is the Hero Wrangler himself," Hawks said, whispering as though just saying his name would summon Izuku.

"What are you talking about?" Rumi asked, completely lost.

Hawks explained, "He's probably the most feared hero doctor in Japan. He scares most heroes more than villains do, because he has literally zero patience for anyone trying to get out of treatment or ignoring his orders. He's literally tied heroes to their beds before."

Rumi remembered Izuku's words about his opinion of heroes, and she decided that she could absolutely see Izuku doing just that, and also wondered if he would do that to her.

"But," Hawks added, "he's also the best prosthetics designer around. If he's working with you, I think you've got a good shot at going back into the field someday."

"I appreciate the faith," Rumi replied, "but what about you?"

Instantly, the winged hero's face fell, and his eyes slipped down until he couldn't meet Rumi's gaze anymore. Hawks muttered, "Nobody knows yet. The doctors say that they can't be sure if my wings will grow back, because even though the fire did a lot of damage, there's a chance that enough was left to regenerate. If there wasn't...I'll never fly again."

There was nothing Rumi could say, no words she could offer; she knew that look in her comrade's eye too well, that slow, crushing recognition that your life would never be the same, that some part of you would always be missing.

Wondering just who she was asking, Rumi asked, "What will you do if...if you can't be a hero anymore?"

Eventually, Hawks shook his head and gave Rumi a weak, fake smile. He said, "I have no idea. It feels like my entire purpose in life is just...gone."

Rumi couldn't agree more. For a while, she and Hawks sat in hollow silence, two suns not ready to die quite yet, but knowing that it might not be their choice to make.

Finally, Hawks stirred and continued, "Whatever happens, I don't think it matters. The only thing I care about is...making it count. If I have to go down, at least I took some baddies with me. Maybe...maybe that's enough. Did you at least get the bastards who did that to you?"

Hawks gestured at Rumi's arm and leg, and Rumi remembered the monsters, the way they'd laughed and taunted her, the way she'd taunted them as their bodies turned to pulp beneath her feet. She remembered staggering out of a room littered with corpses, convinced that she was a dead woman walking, and only caring about causing the most devastation possible before she went down.

At last, she returned the winged hero's gaze, and she said, "I did, I think."

Hawks nodded in grim satisfaction, and said, "Good. When you come back, you'll win for real."

Rumi...hadn't thought of her return in that way, but now that Hawks had said it, the idea refused to leave. However, she couldn't help but be confused by his words. "When?" Rumi repeated curiously.

"Of course you're coming back," Hawks assured her, understanding the implied question, "you think that doctor of yours would allow anything less?"

Rumi thought of the fiery determination shining in Izuku's eyes when he told her that she was going to come back, and she had her answer.

She replied, "No, I don't think he will."

"Good. This world doesn't need any more dead heroes," Hawks said with a soft smile.

Then, he added, "I should probably get going, before I get tied down for escaping, but I just wanted to say that I know you'll be back, Miruko."

Rumi flashed a wide grin just like Hawks as the hero left, while inside, she wondered why, exactly, everyone seemed to believe in her strength, when she didn't anymore.