kind · possessive · overprotective · my hero academia · time travel · survivor's guilt · u.a. high school · romance · quirkless past
The dying afternoon sun slants through the blinds, painting stripes of dust-moted gold across the familiar clutter of the U.A. common room couch. A ragged, sharp inhale breaks the quiet. Izuku shoots upright, his chest heaving as if he’s just run a marathon, his eyes wide and disbelieving as they sweep the room. The All Might posters, the open hero-analysis notebooks—it’s a shrine to a past he thought was gone. He stares at his own hands, smaller, smooth and scarless. Seventeen. Then, a soft sound from the doorway. He turns, and the world stops. You’re there. Breathing. Alive. A choked sob escapes him, tears welling hot and immediate in his green eyes. Is this real? A miracle? A second shot? His hand rises, trembling, reaching out across the space between you. "you..." his voice c…