Mha oc

Talking

The house was quiet, except for the faint hum of the heater kicking on and the occasional sound of the cats causing chaos upstairs. I sat cross-legged on the couch, staring at the steaming mug of tea in my hands. Mic was across from me in his favorite armchair, his bright blond hair tied back, and his usual energetic demeanor dialed way down.

The silence between us was heavy, but not uncomfortable. I could feel him watching me, waiting for me to say something.

"You're hovering," I muttered, not looking up.

"You're brooding," he shot back lightly, though his tone lacked its usual teasing edge.

A faint smirk tugged at the corner of my mouth, but it faded just as quickly. I took a sip of the tea, letting the warmth soothe the tightness in my chest, but it didn't help much.

Mic set his own mug down on the coffee table and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

"Ryo," he said softly, his voice serious in a way that immediately put me on edge. "You're carrying a lot right now. Talk to me."

I glanced at him, my fingers tightening around the mug.

"I don't even know where to start," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded, his sharp hazel eyes full of understanding. "Start wherever it feels right. Or don't. Just say whatever's in your head."

I stared into the tea, watching the faint swirl of steam rise and dissipate. The words were tangled in my throat, heavy and hard to pull free, but I forced myself to speak.

"I was so scared, Papa," I said finally, my voice cracking. "When Dad... when the Nomu slammed him down, I—" My breath hitched, and I shook my head, trying to keep the emotions in check.

Mic didn't rush me, didn't interrupt. He just nodded, his expression calm and patient.

"I thought I lost him," I continued, my voice trembling. "For a second, I froze. And then when I ran to him, it was like... like I was a little kid again. Like all the training, all the fights, all the progress I've made didn't matter. I just... I just wanted him to be okay."

"You did everything you could," Mic said gently. "More than anyone could've asked of you."

I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head. "Did I, though? What good is a barrier quirk if I can't stop something like that? What's the point of all this training if I can't protect the one person who matters most to me?"

Mic leaned back slightly, his gaze thoughtful. "Ryo, you're human. You're allowed to feel like you didn't do enough, but that doesn't mean it's true. You carried him out of there. You protected him when it mattered most."

I looked down at the scarf draped over the couch next to me. Aizawa's scarf. My fingers brushed over the fabric, and my chest tightened again.

"I just... I don't know how to deal with this," I admitted, my voice small. "Seeing him like that, not knowing if he'll be okay... It's like there's this weight pressing down on me, and I can't shake it off."

Mic's expression softened, and he reached out to rest a hand on my knee. "You're not alone, Ryo. You've got me, and you've got Shota. And you've got a whole group of friends who'd drop everything to be here for you. You don't have to carry this by yourself."

I nodded slowly, swallowing hard against the lump in my throat.

Mic leaned back, giving me space but keeping his gaze steady. "You know, when your dad first took you in, he wasn't sure if he'd be any good at it. But you? You've made him proud every single day. And I know he'd say the same thing if he were here, conscious, and able to yell at you for thinking otherwise."

That brought a small, shaky laugh out of me, and for the first time in what felt like hours, the weight on my chest eased just a little.

"I don't know what I'd do without you guys," I admitted, my voice barely audible.

Mic grinned, his usual energy flickering back into place. "Well, lucky for you, you don't have to find out. You're stuck with us, kiddo."

For the first time in a while, I felt a flicker of warmth in my chest. It wasn't much, but it was enough to keep me going.