Izuku carefully folded the bedsheets, his hands moving of their own accord despite the nurses' repeated assurances that they would take care of everything. He couldn't help but wash the dishes he'd been given and neatly stack the hospital gown, pillowcases, and sheets into a tidy pile.
Leaving it on the edge of the bed, he packed his belongings into his bag. Before exiting the room, he cast one last glance backward. It was unlikely he'd ever be admitted here again after another Hero Mission, and the thought made his heart clench with a bittersweet ache.
But only for a moment—Izuku wouldn't allow himself to dwell on memories or anxious thoughts about the future, the million "what now?" questions. He had concrete plans ahead: visit his mom, call Aizawa-sensei as promised, maybe take a walk in the park, and then go to bed. For now, the plan was simple and clear.
As he walked down the corridor towards the exit, Izuku debated whether he should go to the park after all, and if so, whether he should wear his hood up.
He said goodbye to the medical staff at the reception desk, his manner slightly distracted but still warm and polite. With a sigh, he pushed open the doors. Squinting briefly in the bright sunlight, he couldn't help but smile—the fresh breeze felt pleasant against his aching scar, and the chirping of birds around him served as a reminder that life goes on, regardless of whether Izuku had a quirk or not.
"Hey, nerd," a familiar hoarse voice made him start and open his eyes wide. "Like, um… congrats on getting better, I guess… or whatever bullshit I supposed to say, so…"
"Kacchan," Izuku whispered softly, taking in the sight before him—Katsuki shuffling awkwardly from foot to foot, his shirt tucked into his trousers and his usually wild hair smoothed down for the first time in what felt like forever.
Maybe life really did have its own plans after all.
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