55.7 - The Strongest Thing, I. M

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The city was quiet in the way only cities can be—buzzing with life, but not speaking. The wind had teeth, tugging at my sleeves as I sat at the edge of the U.A. rooftop, feet dangling into the nothing. Below, life continued. Heroes patrolled. Civilians rebuilt. The world moved on, pretending it hadn't cracked a few weeks ago and let every terrible thing leak out.

But I couldn't pretend. Not yet.

My fingers dug into the concrete, the cold biting through the skin. I needed that bite. I needed to feel something solid. Something real.

Because I'd been holding it in for too long.

I didn't hear him until he was standing beside me.

"Found you," Izuku said softly.

I didn't turn. "How?"

"You always come up here when you're overwhelmed."

That made me glance up, eyebrow raised.

He smiled, just a little. "You think I don't keep track of my best friend's hiding spots?"

There it was again. Best friend.

The words settled somewhere uncomfortable in my chest.

"You know," I said, "I'm starting to think you're secretly tracking me."

He sat beside me, careful not to crowd me. He always did that—gave space, even when I wanted him closer.

"I just pay attention," he said. "To you."

Silence stretched between us. I thought I'd gotten used to it. But with Izuku, silence was always full. Full of all the things we never said. Full of all the things I almost told him over the years.

He let out a breath. "You're upset."

I shrugged. "Not upset. Just... tired."

"Yeah," he murmured. "Me too."

We sat for a while, the wind threading through our hair.

"Do you ever think about how we got here?" I asked.

He turned to me. "You mean... the dorms? U.A.? Or something else?"

"All of it," I said. "Everything. Since the entrance exam. Since the sludge villain. Since the first time you smiled at me and asked if I was okay."

He flushed a little, scratching the back of his neck. "You remember that?"

"I remember everything," I said. "Because it was you."

He didn't speak.

I looked back out at the horizon. The sky was starting to turn from steel to blue. Dawn was creeping in. And I was running out of places to put my feelings.

"I've been thinking about something," I said slowly. "For a long time."

Izuku shifted slightly, still quiet.

"I've been thinking about you."

I finally looked at him, and his eyes widened, just a little.

"You've always been there," I said. "When things were good. When they were unbearable. When I didn't even want to be seen. You stayed."

He swallowed.

"You believed in me when I didn't believe in myself. You trusted me with everything—even the things you were terrified of. You let me see who you really are, not just the hero you're trying to become."

"[F/N]..." he started, voice barely a whisper.

I shook my head. "Let me finish."

He went still.

"I told myself that friendship was enough. That I didn't have time for anything else. That loving you would only make things harder."

Izuku inhaled sharply.

"But it's already hard," I said. "Every day. Fighting villains. Losing people. Holding on to this dream that sometimes feels like it's killing us. And I realized something."

I reached for his hand, fingers trembling.

"If I'm going to keep fighting—keep building something real out of this broken world—I want to do it with you."

His hand closed around mine, tight and shaking.

"I love you," I said, finally. "Not just as a friend. Not as a teammate. I love you, Izuku. And I think I've known it for a long, long time."

For a moment, he didn't move.

Then he laughed—soft, stunned, breathless.

"I'm sorry," he said quickly. "I just—didn't think—I've loved you for years."

I froze.

"Since before U.A.," he said. "I think since our second year of middle school? When you helped me get my locker open when it jammed. You didn't laugh. You just helped. And I remember thinking—this is someone I want to stand beside forever."

Tears stung at the corners of my eyes.

"But I couldn't tell you," he said. "I was scared. I thought if I said anything, it would make things harder. I didn't want to distract you. I didn't want to lose you."

"I thought the same thing," I whispered.

His forehead pressed to mine.

"I would've waited forever," he said.

"You didn't have to," I said, breath catching. "You never did."

And then—finally—he kissed me.

It was soft. Hesitant. Like he was still asking if it was okay.

So I kissed him back.

And made it more than okay.

Later, we sat curled on the rooftop, hands laced, sharing warmth as the sun began to rise. His head rested against mine, and for once, neither of us spoke.

Because there was nothing left to say.

We were together.

We'd always been, in one way or another.

Now, finally, it was real.

And it was enough.

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