(L/N) raised a shaking hand up to touch the fabric of his blindfold. The sharp stinging that he was so used to, it was gone. Like there was no longer a fire burning in his eyes. Blood pounded in his ears as adrenaline coursed through his veins and flooded every muscle of his body.

The muscles that kept his eyes shut so tightly started to relax, letting go of the tension that had held back his power for twelve years. He fluttered his eyelids for the smallest fraction of a second before snapping them shut once more, waiting for the heat he knew would come every time he opened his eyes.

But there was no heat. There was no pain.

Holding his breath, he allowed himself to peek out from behind his lashes. And then with a strangled gasp his eyes opened fully. He felt tears begin to form before they were soaked into the cloth of his blindfold. At the edges of his vision, he saw the outside world seeping in through the crack where the blindfold ended.

Even in just that sliver he saw so many colors. Colors he had long since forgotten. Colors he didn't even know existed. There were so many lights. Some were so dim he could barely tell they were there. Others, so bright they hurt his eyes. These things he had felt for so long, at last he could finally see them. But seeing them, he did not know their names. He could not identify which of the flashes were blue. Which of them were red. Without his quirk, the colors were strangers to him.

"(L/N)?... (L/N)."

"Huh?"

"I trust you remember the importance of these additional lessons." Aizawa gave him a disapproving look.

Shaking his head clear, (L/N) realized he had zoned out for the past thirty seconds. It was Saturday and he was in gym Gamma with Mr. Aizawa for his supplemental quirk training. The incident with the gunman had happened two nights ago.

"Y-Yes, sir." (L/N) said apologetically.

"Then stay focused." Eraser Head reprimanded. "Or do I need to remind you of what happens when allow yourself to lose concentration?"

"I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"Good. As I was saying, this bag contains one hundred marbles in five different colors. I'm going to drop them. When I do, your job is to identify and capture only the red ones before they hit the floor. Understand?"

(L/N) nodded. Raising the small burlap bag above his head, Aizawa turned it upside down in his hand and shook loose the glass beads. Barely a second later they would clatter to the ground. Before that happened, (L/N) had to sort through all one hundred and single out the red. Doing just that was challenging enough. Having the precision to catch each of the small objects individually without accidentally capturing any of the others was virtually impossible. He barely had time to register what the five colors were.

"(F/N)?" Momo asked.

Time seemed to slow as the first marble bounced off the floor with an echoing click.

"(F/N)? Are you feeling alright?"

(L/N) jumped as he felt a hand on his forehead. It was twelve noon. His supplemental training with Mr. Aizawa had ended an hour ago. He and Momo were sitting on her bed where they had been doing their chemistry homework for the past thirty minutes.

"Hmm? Oh... yes. I-I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" She asked in concern. "(F/N)?"

He didn't answer. He was too focused on the color of her eyes. For one precious hour he had been free. Liberated from the burden his quirk cursed him with. In that time he'd tried to remember what his hero costume looked like. The mantle he wore, he knew, was black, like her hair. And the color of his hakama, a dark grey that closely matched her eyes. So he tried to commit the colors to memory while he had the chance, hoping he could picture what she looked like.

Momo closed her textbook and binder and moved them aside so she could move closer to him. "Hey." She gently placed her hands on the back of his wrists. "Talk to me."

(L/N) turned over his forearms so their palms met. If it were only that simply. But the existence of the quirk destroying bullet was being kept tightly under wraps. Even if it weren't, he didn't know what he would say. They had grown close, yes. Closer than (L/N) had ever been with anyone. And maybe that should have made it easier to open up to her, but he couldn't help but be afraid. Afraid that, every time he opened his mouth, he would slip up and say the wrong thing. Afraid that she would find something in his words she didn't like. Something that would give her a reason to leave. After all, she wasn't the first person to promise him she would stay.

"I just... have you ever slept on a really uncomfortable mattress?"

"I... what?" She didn't know what she had been expecting him to say, but it certainly wasn't that. And she did her best not to laugh, but she couldn't help but let a few snickers escape because of how seriously he asked such a frivolous question.

"Like, have you ever had a really bad mattress?" (F/N) continued. "Only, you don't know it's bad because you're so used to it. But then you decide it's time to get a new mattress, so you try out a bunch of good ones. And then, when you go to bed that night, you just can't fall asleep. Because now that you know what a good mattress feels like, you've become aware of just how bad yours is."

"Er, I-I guess so." Momo answered confusedly.

"So, what are you supposed to do then? Do you just deal with the fact that you can't fall asleep? Or do you toss and turn and hope that you eventually do?"

"Why not just buy a new bed?" She suggested, still not understanding (F/N)'s line of questioning.

"I wish I could, but it's not that simple."

"If you need a new mattress, I'm sure the school can-"

"No, that's not what I-" (F/N) pulled away from her and threw his legs off the bed. Rubbing his palms up his face, he pushed his hair back and wrapped his arms around his head, pacing the length of the room.

"Hey, hey." Pushing herself off her bed, Momo placed her hands on his shoulders to catch him in the middle of his pacing. "It's okay." She assured him. "Everything will be okay." Gently taking hold of his fingers, she pulled his arms away from his head and lovingly traced her thumbs in small circles along the backs of his hands. "Tell me what's wrong. Please?"

For a moment (F/N) considered telling her all about what happened. How for the first time in his life, he could remember what the world actually looked like. How he had been shot by a bullet that somehow erased his quirk. How he wished it had been permanent. But as he opened his mouth to tell her all these things, he was met with a sudden realization. She wouldn't understand. In matters like this he was still very much alone.

He slowly shook his head. "I... I can't."

"Why not?"

"I just can't. I'm sorry."

Momo dropped her hands and sighed. "Okay." She nodded.

There was a resigned finality to her voice. One that stopped his heart. As her hands left his, a chill spread from his fingertips, up his arms, and settled in his chest. A heavy weight seemed to press in on all sides, and the cold pressure crushed his lungs. He was drowning, sinking again, deeper and deeper in the freezing ocean.

But then there came a splash as someone dove in after him. Momo rested her palms on his biceps and slowly trailed them up to his shoulders.

"W-What are you-"

The rest of the question died in his throat as she stepped into him, pressing her body against his as her arms wrapped around him in a warm embrace, pulling him from the ocean. She gently stroked his back and ran her fingers calmingly through his hair.

"I'm sorry I don't understand what you're asking me." Momo whispered, holding her cheek to his. "I wish I knew what was troubling you. I wish I could help you."

"I know." (F/N) turned his face into her and let his head rest on her shoulder. "I'm sorry." He whimpered into her neck. "For being so... for being such a burden."

Momo leaned out of the hug and looked at him with sad eyes. She always thought the reason he never initiated anything was because he wasn't yet comfortable with being so close. But seeing him now, she recognized in his expression a desolation she had seen in those times when he opened his mouth with no words forthcoming, and when his fingers would stretch towards her, but his hand pulled back. His shoulders would drop, and he would take a step away and hug his arms. Small movements that she'd never really paid much attention to until now as she came to realize why he always stopped himself from reaching for her hand.

"Is that what you think you are?" She asked sadly. With her middle finger she delicately moved the hair from his eyes, her hand coming to a stop on his cheek as she tenderly held his face. "After everything we've been through?"

"Because of everything we've been through. Everything I've put you through." (F/N) frowned. "Everything I'll keep putting you through. All because I'm broken."

So that's how he saw their relationship, Momo thought. Him, a cracked vase, and her, the one tasked with fixing it. And though he looked so sorrowful, she couldn't help but smile, because that's not how she saw him. He had been hurt, yes. That was undeniable. But even cracked, he could still hold water. And it was because of that, not despite it, that she found him so beautiful.

Leaning in, she touched her lips to the right side of his face. "You're not broken." She placed another kiss on his left cheek. "You are not a burden." Standing on her tip toes, she placed one more kiss on his forehead. "And you have nothing to apologize for. All those things you think make you damaged, that you think make you ugly, they are what make you wonderful. They're the reasons I... the reasons I love you."

Locking her wrists behind his neck, she closed her eyes and leaned in. But just as her lips were about to touch his, he ran.