As Utsushimi retrieved a large container from Inko's bag, Hitomi found herself being studied by the older woman.
"Todoroki... you would be Endeavor's daughter, correct?"
Hitomi's spine stiffened slightly, frost gathering at her fingertips before she controlled it. "Yes," she answered, the word clipped.
Inko nodded, her expression revealing nothing of what she might think about this connection. "And Yaoyorozu—I believe your family runs several international technology companies?"
"Yes, among other ventures," Yaoyorozu confirmed with a polite smile. "My father oversees the corporate holdings while my mother manages our philanthropic foundation."
"And they're loaded," Utsushimi added, returning with the cookies and setting them on a small table within everyone's reach. "Like, mega-rich."
Yaoyorozu's cheeks colored slightly. "We're fortunate, yes."
Inko looked between them, an unreadable expression crossing her face. "So my son has managed to attract the attention of the daughter of the number two hero, the heiress to one of Japan's largest fortunes, and—" she turned to Utsushimi with a fond smile, "—the most charismatic young woman I've ever met."
"He's pretty special," Utsushimi agreed, perching on the edge of Midoriya's bed and taking a cookie.
Hitomi observed the easy rapport between Utsushimi and Inko with interest. They clearly had an established relationship, comfortable enough that Utsushimi referred to the older woman as "Mama Midoriya" without hesitation.
"You've known Midoriya for some time?" Hitomi asked Utsushimi directly.
"Since before UA," Utsushimi confirmed, her expression softening as she looked at Midoriya's still form.
"They called every day for weeks after the entrance exam." Inko said with a proud smile. She turned to Hitomi and Yaoyorozu. "And how did you both come to know my son?"
Yaoyorozu spoke first, her posture perfect even in the uncomfortable hospital chair. "We're classmates in 1-A. Midoriya is our class representative, and I serve as vice representative. We've worked together frequently on class matters."
Inko nodded, then turned her attention to Hitomi, who found herself uncharacteristically searching for words. How did she explain that she'd barely spoken to Midoriya until recently? That she'd kept her distance from all her classmates out of habit and caution?
"We had limited interaction initially," she said finally, her voice measured. "That changed during the Sports Festival. He... impressed me."
"He beat her," Utsushimi clarified with a small smirk.
"Yes," Hitomi acknowledged, no bitterness in her tone. "He defeated me using superior technique and strategy. It was... enlightening."
"And then you asked him for coffee," Utsushimi added, her smirk widening.
Hitomi felt heat rise to her cheeks, an unusual sensation given her natural cold resistance. "Well he asked me. I suggested a discussion regarding his fighting style."
"Over coffee," Utsushimi repeated.
"Yes. Over coffee." Hitomi turned her attention back to Midoriya, adjusting her cooling hand slightly. "The venue was incidental to the purpose."
Inko's soft laugh drew Hitomi's gaze back up. "Oh, you remind me of myself at your age. I was terrible at admitting when I was interested in someone."
Before Hitomi could formulate a response to this unexpected comparison, Yaoyorozu spoke.
"Mrs. Midoriya—Inko," she corrected herself, "may I ask about Midoriya's early years? He rarely speaks about his childhood."
Something flickered across Inko's face—a shadow of old pain, quickly masked by a mother's protective instinct. "Izuku had a challenging childhood in many ways. Being diagnosed as Quirkless at age four shaped much of his early experience."
"That must have been difficult," Yaoyorozu said softly. "Especially in a society so focused on quirks."
"More than you might imagine," Inko replied, her hands tightening around her teacup. "Children can be cruel, and adults often enable that cruelty through their own biases. But Izuku never lost his determination."
"He maintained his hero analysis," Hitomi noted, remembering the notebooks she'd glimpsed during class. "Even without a quirk of his own."
"Oh, the notebooks!" Inko's expression brightened. "He started those when he was barely six years old. Could barely write properly, but he was already diagramming hero techniques and quirk applications."
"For real?" Utsushimi leaned forward, genuinely interested. "Baby Izu was already on that analysis grind?"
Inko nodded, reaching for her phone. "I have photos somewhere... ah, here." She held out the device, displaying a picture of a tiny Midoriya, round-faced and wild-haired, hunched over a crude notebook with his tongue sticking out in concentration.
"Oh my goodness," Yaoyorozu breathed, her eyes widening. "He's adorable."
Hitomi leaned forward slightly to see the image. The child in the photo bore little resemblance to the powerful young man whose forehead she currently cooled, and yet something in the intense concentration, the determined set of his small jaw, was unmistakably Midoriya.
"He was the most serious little boy," Inko continued, swiping to another photo. "Everything was a research project. Here he is testing which All Might action figure had the best jumping capability."
The next image showed young Midoriya with several All Might figures arranged in a line, a crude measuring stick propped against the wall behind them.
"He concluded that the Silver Age model had superior spring mechanics," Inko explained, her voice warm with nostalgia. "He wrote a three-page report with diagrams."
"That tracks," Utsushimi laughed. "Izu's always been extra in the best way."
Inko continued sharing photos and stories, each one revealing another facet of Midoriya's childhood. Hitomi found herself unexpectedly engrossed, piecing together the evolution from determined child to the young man she'd come to admire.
"And this one," Inko said, displaying a photo of Midoriya, dressed in a homemade hero costume with a cape fashioned from a bath towel, "was from his 'patrol phase.' He insisted on walking around the neighborhood every evening to 'maintain security.'"
"Did he actually find any trouble?" Yaoyorozu asked, smiling at the image.
"Once," Inko said, her expression turning serious. "He came home with a bloody nose after trying to stop some older boys from bothering a stray cat. That was the first time I really understood that his drive to help others wasn't just childish play. It was fundamental to who he is."
Hitomi thought about this, about the kind of courage it would take for a Quirkless child to deal with bullies. She thought of her own childhood, of the isolation and pain, of the ways she'd withdrawn rather than confronted.
"He never gave up," she said quietly, the observation slipping out before she could contain it.
"No," Inko agreed, meeting Hitomi's mismatched gaze. "He never did. Even when I..." Her voice faltered slightly. "Even when I failed to support his dream as I should have. He kept moving forward."
"You didn't fail him," Utsushimi said firmly, placing her hand over Inko's. "You were scared for him. That's what moms do."
Inko squeezed Utsushimi's hand gratefully. "You're sweet to say so, Camie. But parents make mistakes, and acknowledging them is important." She looked at each of the young women in turn. "I tell you this not to paint myself in a negative light, but because understanding Izuku means understanding that he succeeded not because of perfect support, but despite its absence at times."
Hitomi found herself oddly moved by this honest admission. Her own mother had tried to protect her, had suffered for it, but had never been able to speak so openly about her failings or fears.
"That makes his achievements more significant," she said, her voice low but clear. "To persist without external validation requires exceptional internal strength."
Yaoyorozu nodded in agreement. "It speaks to his character. Most people require encouragement to pursue difficult paths."
"Oh, he had encouragement," Inko smiled. "Just not from the sources you might expect. All Might's public persona was a huge inspiration, of course. But in recent months, his mentor Bang has been transformative."
"Gramps is the best," Utsushimi grinned. "Scary as hell when he's training Izu, but low-key hilarious the rest of the time."
"Bang," Hitomi repeated, filing the name away. "The martial arts master."
"Yes," Inko confirmed. "He saw something in Izuku that others missed. Potential beyond quirks or conventional measurements."
The conversation continued, flowing naturally between stories of Midoriya's childhood and discussions of his current achievements. Hitomi found herself speaking more than she typically would, drawn out by Inko's genuine interest and Yaoyorozu's thoughtful questions. Even Utsushimi's teasing comments seemed designed to include rather than exclude her.
A groan from the bed silenced their laughter instantly. Midoriya's eyelids fluttered, his brow furrowing beneath Hitomi's cool palm.
"Izuku?" Inko was on her feet immediately, leaning over her son. "Can you hear me?"
Midoriya's eyes opened slowly, unfocused at first, then gradually sharpening as he took in the faces surrounding him. His gaze moved from his mother to Utsushimi, then to Yaoyorozu, and finally settled on Hitomi, confusion evident in his expression.
"Good morning y'all."
"Izu!" Utsushimi launched herself forward, wrapping her arms around him with enough force to make him wince. "You absolute jerk! Do you know how worried we were?"
Inko joined the embrace from the other side, tears streaming down her face. "Oh, Izuku. Thank goodness."
Hitomi withdrew her hand from his forehead, watching as mother and girlfriend enveloped Midoriya in their relief and affection. She stood and stepped back, creating space for the reunion, her eyes meeting Yaoyorozu's across the bed. An unspoken understanding passed between them—this moment belonged to those who had waited longest, worried most deeply.
Midoriya endured the dual embrace with a mixture of discomfort and affection, his arms coming up weakly to return the hugs. "I'm okay," he assured them, though his voice remained scratchy. "Really. Just thirsty."
Yaoyorozu immediately moved to pour water from a pitcher on the bedside table. She passed the glass to Inko, who helped Midoriya take small sips.
"Slowly," Inko cautioned. "You haven't had anything by mouth for two days."
Midoriya's eyes widened at this information. "Two days? I was out for two days?"
"Since the night of the festival," Utsushimi confirmed, reluctantly loosening her grip but keeping one hand firmly entwined with his. "We got a call after you left for the beach."
"I'm sorry," he said, his gaze softening as he looked at her. "I didn't mean to worry you."
"Well, you did," Utsushimi sniffed, trying for indignation but unable to maintain it in the face of her obvious relief. "Big time."
Midoriya's attention shifted to the other occupants of the room. "Yaoyorozu. Todoroki. Why are you here?"
"You missed our coffee appointment," Hitomi stated, her tone matter-of-fact despite the emotion tightening her chest. "I called Utsushimi to inquire about your absence."
"And I was concerned when you didn't answer my calls after the festival," Yaoyorozu added. "When Todoroki texted me about your condition, I came immediately."
Midoriya looked between them, processing this information. "I'm sorry about the coffee," he said to Hitomi. "I was looking forward to it."
"As was I," she replied, her dual-colored eyes meeting his green ones directly. "We will reschedule once you've recovered."
"And your call," he said to Yaoyorozu. "I didn't mean to ignore it. What did you want to discuss?"
Yaoyorozu's cheeks colored slightly. "It can wait until you're feeling better."
Midoriya seemed about to press the issue when Inko intervened, her maternal instincts evidently sensing her son's growing confusion.
"Girls, why don't you come closer? Izuku should thank you properly for your help. Especially you, Todoroki. Your quirk has been keeping him comfortable for the past hour."
Hitomi and Yaoyorozu hesitated, exchanging another glance before Inko made the decision for them, reaching out to gently pull them both into the circle around the bed.
"You all cared enough to be here," Inko said firmly. "You're all part of this moment."
Midoriya looked increasingly bewildered as his mother drew Hitomi and Yaoyorozu closer to his bedside. "Mom, what's going on? Why are you—"
"Hush," Inko interrupted. "These young women have been worried sick about you. They deserve your gratitude."
"I am grateful," Midoriya assured her, his gaze moving between the three girls with growing suspicion. "But why do I feel like I'm missing something important?"
Utsushimi grinned, her usual mischievous spark returning now that the immediate crisis had passed. "Oh, no big deal. For scaring us, we just all agreed to make you a father to take full responsibility."
Midoriya choked on the water he'd been sipping, coughing violently.
"YOU WHAT?"