Ever since Izuku woke up in the hospital and was allowed to go home, noises had been bothering him. He first noticed it when the car horns and clicking shoes got on his nerves. Normal, everyday sounds began feeling like nails on a chalkboard. 

So as soon as he got home, he found himself barricading the door to his room and putting on some noise canceling headphones he had gotten over the previous holiday season. He didn't leave his room for a few days. 

When he felt more himself and less agitated by the world around him, he finally exited his room, heading straight for the kitchen. His hunger had diminished over the past couple days he had spent only leaving in the cusps of midnight to avoid all interactions. Nevertheless, his body was craving an actual meal. Oddly enough. 

When he slipped down the stairs and turned into the kitchen, he saw the hunched over form of his mother holding her head in her hands. 

Ice cold fear doused his mind and body as he watched his mother shake. 

She's sick. Ill. Dawned the realization. 

She's sick because of you. Supplemented number Six. 

"Izuku?" 

Your negligence has made her succumb to the poison lacing your foods. You failed to help her. 

He felt his eyes become wet with unshed tears. He felt his face heat up and his fingers begin flicking back and forth. Suddenly the picture frames caught his eye. 

You have to heal her. A sinister voice caressed his cheek, trailing their fingers across his jaw in a creepy fashion that instilled fear in his body. 

Find the key first. He felt himself stiffen at Four's words. 

One frame was crooked, so he found himself fixing it and stepping back, eyes on the ground after he completed his correction. 

Of course. He thought to himself. The key will fix the sicknesses. I just have to find it first. 

His right hand was itching, so he let himself scratch it. 

"Izuku?" Came the voice as it spoke up loud but cautious. 

Izuku jolted, turning towards his now standing up mother. He found himself giving her a watery smile to placate her concern. It didn't work well, but calmed her ever so slightly. 

"Mom," he spoke softly, a serene calmness overcoming him as he thought of the cure for her illness. Yes, he would heal her. He had to. "I love you." He spoke up, voice almost cracking with emotion. 

He saw water drip from the bloodshot eyes of his beautiful mother. He stopped scraping his hand and opened his shaky arms out to his emotional parent. A sense of love overtaking his sadness for a moment. Inko walked forward and easily fell into the embrace of her only child. She gripped him softly yet firmly, sobs wracking her body. 

"I love--I love you so much, Izuku. Remember that, okay?" She spoke through a muffled voice. 

Izuku noticed that she seemed smaller than before, more frail. He felt himself kissing her hair like she did to him when he was a child. Rubbing her back, he felt determined to find the cure. To find the key.