Chapter Text
Toshinori knew he had made a mistake as he looks down upon the small child. Ruining a child's dream was nothing he'd ever expected from becoming the number one hero, but his time is almost out. He could practically feel his muscles shrinking already. With a glance at the green-haired boy he left off the building and his hero form.
Toshinori had to stop at the nearest rooftop and he had barely sat his feet down when his muscles shrank and he coughed out copious amounts of blood. Toshinori spared a look at the rooftop where he could barely see a blob of green. Now that he had left, now that he had kept his secret, he wished he could turn back and show him his true form and give the boy the confidence he needed to move forward in his dreams.
You can't undo what's already been done though. With a sigh, Toshinori touched the slime in his pocket that he would take him to the police station. Only to find the bottle's gone. An echoing crash sounded throughout the city and Toshinori knew that nobody would be able to stop what was happening.
Izuku's faltering steps led him away from the crowd. He was so close to running in there trying to rescue his friend himself, but all might's words reflected back to him. All might would save Kaachan. Quicker than he thought, Izuku found himself in front of his house. He waved solemnly at Kaachan's mom and walked inside.
He tried to greet his mother with his usual pizzazz. He knew he fell short though if her worried expression was anything to say by it. He told his mother he was going to go lay down for a nap and walk into his room. He sat staring up from his bed for hours.
Dinner was a silent affair, Izuku speaking minimally and only answering the questions that his mother asked him. He went to his room, giving no explanation to his mother. He didn't even say good night.
Shouta Aizawa groaned, stretching his hands behind his back to release tension from his shoulders. After being called in so that the sludge villain could be apprehended, he had to take a child to the hospital. The child wasn't in serious condition but would be in a medical coma for a few days recovering. Something like this always brought his spirits down.
Aizawa wasn't good at feelings on a good day, and almost seeing a child die wasn't something he could handle well. He decided against going home and went on patrol to beat his feelings out on deserving villains.
Two boys walk from their leader's house, quirks aching for a fight and their impulse control bedridden from a villain fight. Urgent whispers and pointing lead to them crossing the street, stopping in front of a small, two-bedroom house. One kid collects sticks, and another pulls a lighter out of his backpack.
With a laugh, a small fire starts near the door, and the kids run to the road again, ready to cause panic over a small fire. The sticks are sparking now, it's something in the wood, and one nears an exposed pipe.
In minutes, the house is engulfed in flames, that one spark leading to a gas explosion.