I've been sneaking food to Hawks for days now, maybe even weeks. Time feels weird in the orphanage—it always has. But lately, it feels even stranger, like everything's on edge, and I can't quite figure out why. Hawks is getting better, though. That's the important part. His wounds are healing faster than they should, and I'm glad.

Maybe too glad.

I don't like to think about it, but... I know something's happening with my quirk. I don't know how or why, but whenever I wish for Hawks to heal, for him to be able to stand again, things just... happen. The cuts close faster, the bruises fade overnight. It's scary, and I try not to think about it too much. It's like, if I don't think about it, it's not real.

But it is real.

And it's happening every time I'm around him.

What if... what if I can't control it?

I shake my head, trying to push the thought away as I tiptoe down the basement stairs. The director's been watching everyone more closely lately, especially me. I don't know if she knows what I've been doing, but she's getting suspicious. I can feel it. The other kids are starting to notice too—how I'm always disappearing, how I've been more jumpy than usual.

I'm not very good at hiding things.

I never was.

As I reach the bottom of the stairs, I take a deep breath before pushing the door open. The basement is cold, but it's not as bad as it was before. Hawks is sitting up now, leaning against the wall with his wings tucked behind him. He looks... better. A lot better. I smile, relieved that my efforts haven't been for nothing.

Me: Morning. I got some more stuff for you. Bread, fruit... I even found a little medicine in the orphanage storeroom.

Hawks glances at me, his eyes sharper than they were when I first found him. He's been watching me more lately, and it's making me nervous. Like he's trying to figure something out.

Hawks: Thanks, Izuku,. You've been doing more for me than I can repay.

I shrug, trying to act casual, but inside, I feel a flutter of anxiety. "It's nothing. Really. I just... I'm glad you're getting better."

But he keeps looking at me, like he's seeing something he hasn't noticed before. My wings twitch nervously. I hate it when they do that—it always makes me feel like I'm standing out more than I want to. But Hawks doesn't say anything about them. Not directly.

Hawks: You ever think about what to do or what if you get adopted?

The question hits me like a punch. I blink, trying to keep my face neutral. He's asked about my my future which is none existant to be fair... but for some reasons it hit me quite hard hearing the words adoption. I don't like thinking about it—about the fact that I don't really have a future and I know it... with no past. No family. No memories....there was nothing left for me.

Me: I don't know,... I've always been here, in the orphanage. I don't know it better than staying here.

He doesn't say anything, but I can feel his eyes on me, like he's trying to piece something together. And it makes me nervous.

What if he figures out what I don't even understand myself?

What if my quirk is dangerous?

What if he has to take me with him?

Hawks: I had a family once,.... A long time ago. I don't remember much... just flashes. But your wings... they remind me of mine when I was little.

I freeze.

My wings?

My heart starts to race, and I take a step back, my hands clenching into fists.

Me: They're just wings .They don't even work. I can't fly.

Hawks raises an eyebrow, but he doesn't push it. Instead, he leans back, watching me closely.

Hawks: Nah, don't say that. I can see how much you care and how much you are willing to go to help a stanger like me.

I bite my lip, fighting the urge to run out of the room. I don't want to hear this. I don't want to think about what my quirk is or what it's doing to help someone... to risk everything..... It's too much.

Me: Why are you asking me this? I'm not a fortune teller anyways.

Hawks doesn't answer right away. Instead, he looks at me with that same, steady gaze that makes me feel like I'm being seen in ways I don't want to be.

Hawks: Sorry.... it jut felt as if we might be connected.

Connected?

The word sends a chill down my spine.

Connected?

How could we be connected?

We're nothing alike.

He's a hero, someone important, someone strong.

And I'm... I'm just me.

I'm nobody.

But his words stick with me, even after I leave the basement. As I climb back up the stairs, I can't stop thinking about what he said. About my wings, my quirk, and the strange sense of familiarity I sometimes feel around him.

Maybe he's right.

Maybe there's something more going on.

Maybe he knows my parents....

Who am I kidding....

But if there is something going on...... what does that mean for me?

The tension in the orphanage has been building. Mrs. Shiro, the director, has been keeping a closer eye on me. I can tell. Every time I slip away to the basement, I feel her gaze following me, even if she's not there. The other kids are noticing too, whispering when they think I'm not listening.

"Where's Izuku going?"

"Why's he acting so weird?"

"He's hiding something."

They're right. I am hiding something. I'm hiding Hawks—and the injured hero in the basement. But it's more than that. I'm hiding my quirk too. The fact that I don't really understand it. The fact that it scares me.

And now, with Hawks asking all these questions... I feel like everything is spiraling out of control.

I don't know how much longer I can keep this up. The orphanage is starting to feel like a cage, and I'm running out of places to hide. If Mrs. Shiro finds out about Hawks, if she finds out about what I've been doing...

I don't know what will happen.

But it won't be good.