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The flames aren’t scalding but it’s hot enough to make you wince as some of them lick your skin. You can’t tell which ones are your own. The treadmill continues to run, ignorant of the fact that you’re not on it anymore. The dull thrum of the moving track grates your nerves and puts you on edge. The space feels static and dynamic all at once, a never-ending purgatory.
You’ve had this nightmare enough times to know to even call it that.
Most of the time, you’re living it, the blend of memories and manifestations of emotions. Heart racing and thudding against your ribs as you retch onto the floorboards. Blurry vision focused on tiny clenched fists braced on the hard ground. You usually relive it, back in your six-year-old body that trembles with exhaustion and fear and rage.
But this time is one of those rare instances when you’re simply watching it unfold. A third-party intruder. A mere witness.
Sadness closes around your heart at the sight of yourself, small and helpless and alone. Your own fists clench at your sides as you watch little Shouto try to pick himself up, still gasping for air while frequently glancing at the doorway.
You’ve had this nightmare enough times to know there’s nothing you can do for him. There’s nothing anyone can do to change the past.
But something happens when young Shouto manages to fill his lungs with enough air to take a single deep breath. Something that’s never happened before. This time, he tips his head up and his eyes find yours. He’s never seen you before but he doesn’t look surprised or taken aback. In fact, he’s looking at you like you’ve always been there.
Your feet instantly carry you forward—another first—and you drop to your knees in front of him. In front of yourself. Your hands are quivering as you reach out, gingerly touching his back. He instantly crawls the few inches to collapse onto your lap. His little hands fist into your hero costume this time instead of letting his knuckles bruise against the hardwood.
For the first time, you’re able to hold him. You embrace him with all the kindness and affection he should have had back then. But you do, you have it now. So you share it with him.
“You’ve done nothing wrong,” you mumble into his hair and he shakes. You curl into him further, protectively. There’s more you’d like to say, about all the things you’ve learned and all the ways you’ve grown. You want to tell him everything but you know he won’t fully understand. You’re still working on understanding it all, anyway. So you just sit there with him so that he’s not alone.
*
The pillow propping your head up is rather hard. When you blink your eyes open you realize you’re not in your room but rather slumped on the lounge sofa at UA. You look up enough to see that your “pillow” happens to be Iida’s shoulder. You make no move to lift your head and your friend makes no move to shift you off of him once he notes that you’re awake.
It looks like all your friends are here, scattered comfortably while basking in each other’s company.
“Todoroki-kun, you’re awake!” Midoriya says brightly, seated on your other side on the couch.
“Welcome back to the land of the living,” Bakugou drawls from his spot on the floor across from you. “Now gimme back my damn hoodie.”
Only then do you notice the dark sweatshirt covering you like a makeshift blanket. You cling to it tighter and Bakugou just clicks his tongue. But he doesn’t seem bothered by your blatant refusal to return his clothing.
Yaoyorozu appears carrying a tray lined with teacups and a single large teapot. She pours you one and you take it gratefully. It’s a soothing balm for your soul as it slides down your parched throat.
The vision in your head has almost completely faded by now. You can’t fully remember what it even was. But that’s okay. You’re here now and you let yourself soak in the present, surrounded by a love you never expected to have.