Three days. It had been three days since I had been made aware of All Might's missing son, and over the course of those three days, I hadn't heard anything. There was no good news, there was no bad news, it was complete and utter radio silence.

This was an odd case. It was the first I had ever heard of All Might having a son, and to hear that he had potentially run away from home was even odder. Having a pro hero as a parent was amazing enough but having the number one hero in the world as your parent would have seemed like such an honor — it would have seemed amazing.

So, why would he have run away?

I had been resting my eyes in the staff room as I thought over the possible answers to questions no one had been asking when I heard the doors open. Opening my eyes, I saw Nemuri and Yamada talking from the doorframe. Yamada and Nemuri were some of my closest friends, though I hated to admit it.

I stood up to greet them as I normally would have — taking this as my five-minute warning before class would start — but was surprised to hear them talking about All Might's son rather than their usual idiotic banter. Perking up, I began to speak as I approached my high school friends.

"Have they found him yet? All Might's son, I mean." I asked the two.

Giving me a wide stare, the two looked at me as if I were some sort of alien asking where the nearest spaceship pump was. Seeing their expressions, I clarified how I had run into All Might the other night and what he had told me; however, that didn't cease their odd stares. Glancing towards one another, Nemuri began to speak — finally allowing me to understand their gawk.

"I guess All Might hasn't told you, yet." She started in a doleful tone. "The boy took his own life the other day, I'm so sorry you found out this way, Shota."

I could hardly believe my two friends as they continued with their conversation — discussing the boy and the tragedy that had claimed his life. Although I hadn't particularly liked All Might as a hero, he seemed like he would have made a good dad. He was fun, he was carefree, and he wasn't often bounded by rules — which were all good qualities to have as a fun dad. So, hearing that the son of the number one hero had taken his own life only a few days ago was incredibly odd.

"Wow, that's awful." I spoke solemnly.

Continuing on with their conversation, I found out the boy's name was Yagi Izuku. He was a fourteen-year-old boy that went to Aldera Junior High and from Nemuri and Yamada's discussion, none of them knew why the boy would have ever wanted to take his life — which intrigued me.

Time to start my research.

As my eyes fluttered open, my head was pounding. I couldn't remember how long I had been asleep, nor could I remember what had happened as clearly as I would have liked; however, what I did remember was standing up for myself.

For the first time in my life, I didn't shy away or back down — allowing myself to have the crap beaten out of me — I stood up and fought for myself. I finally understood Shigaraki's training. He wasn't trying to hurt me or beating me just for the sake of it, he was helping me to grow, and I couldn't be more thankful for what he has taught me.

Lifting the thick blanket covers of my bed off of my body, I felt my eyes widen slightly. There, lying all across my body, were bandages. The bandages varied in sizes and color — some being a pearly, snow white and others being more pinkish and blood-stained — but they coated the majority of my body. My abdomen was coated in the bandages; my head was coated in the bandages; my right wrist, my left ankle — it was all encased in the gauze-like material. The bandages coated the majority of my body; however, I didn't care.

This was the first time I had ever stood up for myself and I was proud. This was the first time I had ever landed a solid attack against Shigaraki and I was proud. This was the first time I had ever fought back, and I was proud. I was making progress.

Turning my head, I noticed a glass of water on my night table — accompanied by some aspirin. Shigaraki cared for me, I could feel it. He and Kurogiri were the closest I had ever come to having a family. They were both there for me, and they both seemed concerned for my well-being, physical and mental — despite Shigaraki's initial approach with our training sessions.

After taking the aspirin and water, I rose from my bed and began to clothe myself. I put on a black hoodie and black sweatpants. Pretty much everything I had was black. I did have a few white shirts and dark green hoodies, but not many. Colors stood out, and villains had to blend in with the shadows — keeping ourselves out of sight. We always had to hide, otherwise, people would try to hurt us. Mostly heroes.

It sucked that we all lived in a world where everything was black and white. You were either good or evil, you couldn't be both. I didn't see the villains as evil, though. They were just people — they were good people.

After I finished getting dressed, I walked to the bar and sat down. Shigaraki was there, as well as Kurogiri. They seemed deep in their conversation, but as I sat down, Kurogiri almost immediately asked me how I was feeling — causing Shigaraki to acknowledge me.

Once he was sure I was feeling better, Shigaraki pulled me into a headlock and began rubbing my head violently — as if he were trying to kill me by burrowing a hole in my skull; although, as he spoke words of encouragement, I could see that he was acting out of kindness.

"Kid! You're finally fighting back, good job!"

I had learned to accept Shigaraki's violent idea of affection over the past few weeks. It was just the way he cared for people, and that was all that I needed. Him caring for me, I mean. As long as I had someone — anyone, really — I didn't mind the tough love.

He let me go after a few moments and we laughed a little as I rubbed my head with tenderness and care. I would admit, it was a little painful, but he was my friend — he was my family. Eating our dinners quickly, seeing who could finish faster, we talked about our days; although, I didn't have much to talk about, seeing as I had been unconscious for the majority of the day. Afterward, we ran to the games room and playing Mario Kart.

All we did was normal family stuff.

They weren't villains, they were just people — they were good people.

Shigaraki was the first person to treat me like a human being in a long time. He treated me as if I was a part of his family. I hadn't been a part of a family in a long time. Though he was a sore loser, it was still fun to hang out with him. Kurogiri was also really nice.

For 'villains' they didn't seem evil. They were just misunderstood, but then again, so was I. We weren't villains. We just want to show everyone that the 'heroes' are the real villains.

They didn't deserve the acceptance and praise they got.

They didn't deserve the fans and appreciation they had.

They didn't deserve the oxygen they breathed.

They didn't deserve to live.

With the help of the League, I was going to liberate this society from the chains confining them to this simple-minded way of thinking. I was going to free them from the lies of those said to be 'heroes'.

I was going to save them from themselves.

Things changed when Izuku died. Shoto transferred schools, Katsuki stopped coming by the house, and Izumi began shutting herself in her room. They all cared so much for Izuku. It felt as if Izumi was constantly biting her tongue when she was around Inko and. She stopped looking me in the eye; she stopped eating with us; she would hardly speak to me. It felt as if she was hiding something from everyone.

Inko and I had been taking Izuku's death hard as well. I just couldn't help but wonder why he jumped. It felt as if there was more to the case than what we knew. He couldn't have just randomly felt an urge to jump from a roof, nor did I think it was entirely my words that could have ever been what would cause him to do something so juristic.

I wanted to ask Izumi whether or not she knew anything relating to what Izuku did; however, every time I opened my mouth to speak, I couldn't push my words out. I felt frozen; I felt sad; I felt hurt. It pained me to even think of what could have possibly led Izuku to take his life.

Whenever I would think about what could have happened, my throat closes, and I would feel as if I were dying. I wish I could have found him before he died. I felt that if I could have been there for him, maybe I could have stopped him.

I just wanted to see my son again...

Shigaraki and I were eating Kurogiri's homemade Katsudon. His cooking was amazing. He knew how to bring out flavors and turn a bland food into something entirely new. Not that Katsudon was bland or anything like that, but Kurogiri had this way of talking through his dishes. If he were happy, you could taste it; if he were angry about something, the dish would scream his rage in your mouth; he could communicate his emotions through the dishes he prepared — and that was what made his food so good.

Today marked the two-month anniversary of the day I woke up; two months since I had officially met the people who gave me a home — the people who gave me a family.

They are my family.

I could tell they had been wanting to ask me about why I had jumped that day they found me, but they were respecting my feelings and letting me settle in. It was really hard to think about for me, much less talk about, but they deserved to know why I was here; what brought me here; what led me to the rooftop on that faithful day. I was far from ready to talk, but I felt as if I owed it to them.

For everything they've done for me.

Throughout the night, Yagi had been quiet. He ate his dinner in silence and only answered in single words when we asked him questions. It was odd not having him talk our ears off during dinner — it was almost too quiet.

"Hey kid, what's up? You look lost." I spoke, breaking the silence.

"I... Uhm..." He replied quietly as he looked up at me for the first time during the evening.

Seeing his nervous muttering beginning, I felt my interest piqued. He seemed as if he was hiding something, or working his way around telling me I was fat or something. Raising an eyebrow at his babbling, I lightly tapped him on the arm and waited for him to continue with what he was trying to communicate. I could practically feel the embarrassment and hesitance radiating off him.

"I..." He spoke stuttering.

By his facial expressions, I could tell he had something important yet difficult to say. I usually would have told him to 'hurry up' or something along those lines, but I felt like I should give him time to find the words he was looking for. He looked to Kurogiri and I and then lowered his head. A quiet sigh escaped his lips as he continued to speak.

"I just thought... Uhm..." He paused. "It's been two months since I woke up and joined the League, and I think of you all as my family."

I pulled him into a hug as he spoke. He was such a shy boy and even though he was starting to stand up for himself, he was still a little kid. I will admit, I was only eighteen myself, but he was still only a fourteen-year-old.

"I feel the same. I think of you as my kid-brother." I interrupted him.

I looked down at him, and in his eyes, I could see he had more to say.

"I feel like you've all been giving me time to tell you when I was ready..." He continued. "I think it's time I tell you guys..." He spoke, still sounding unsure.

"I think it's time I tell you both why I jumped."