Chapter Text
Flare Signal
chapter fifty-six
Izuku was hunting a hero.
He'd first caught a glimpse of movement just out the window, so brief it could have been imagined. But Izuku trusted his judgement; he looked closer and soon caught the twisting of black fabric in the wind.
He set down his pencil and switched off the desk lamp, shutting the room into darkness. Then he went to the window, eased it open silently, and let himself out.
Movement above. Izuku smiled to himself. He hooked a hand on a nearby pipe, testing his weight, and then pulled himself up to the roof.
Eraserhead turned, eyes flashing red—
—and then he realized who had come chasing him and relaxed. His hair floated down gently to his shoulders again.
"Mi… Midoriya."
Had he almost said Mirage? Like a name from another time. Izuku couldn't tell.
"Nedzu wants to talk to you." Eraserhead cut to the thought without any warning, and Izuku reeled in surprise at the sudden conversation.
"Principal Nedzu?"
"There's only one Nedzu," Eraserhead noted. He didn't smile, but Izuku laughed a little. "With everything that's happened, we've been working hard to keep the general public and—more importantly—the students and their families reassured that we are doing everything we can. To ensure your safety, to address security…"
"Oh," Izuku mumbled, "well, naturally."
"As a faculty, we've been discussing the dormitory system."
"Oh."
"We've been making progress," Eraserhead told him. "Construction is not so much of a challenge as persuasion, but… for Class 1-A, at least, most of the students and their families have agreed to return for the upcoming semester, and to live in the dorms."
"Are you trying to convince me?" And then, "Most?"
"Mineta withdrew," Eraserhead admitted. He sighed. "That's none of your concern, though, Midoriya. I've been talking to your mother—alongside Toshinori, and Nedzu has passed on his own messages… she agreed she would allow you to stay in the dorms."
"But—"
Izuku's head spun.
He wanted to say it wasn't safe. He wanted to say that they couldn't make him live in the dorms.
"But what about Mom?"
Eraserhead paused. "We've acknowledged the potential danger with… the Dragon still around. There's still some— discussion happening, with her safety as a priority of course, but typically we would have assisted her into joining a villain protection program. Her participation is entirely voluntary, though." He eyed Izuku carefully, but Izuku bit his lip wordlessly. "But there are… other circumstances to take into consideration."
"What… what does that mean?"
"You," Eraserhead said. "Your mother did express safety concerns, but she was adamant that you would not be separated from each other. So we're looking into other options. Maybe even a space at U.A."
Izuku's heart leapt. He tried not to get his hopes up, but—
"We could stay together."
Eraserhead held up a hand, but he seemed to sense what Izuku was feeling. "It's… a possibility. Yes."
"That's good," Izuku said weakly. "That's— that's very good."
Eraserhead nodded.
Then Izuku cleared his throat painfully, and said, "Thank you."
Eraserhead considered him for a moment, so Izuku kept going. "I think I apologized enough for— everything," even though he felt he really hadn't, "but I still needed to say thank you."
He'd said it before, but… every time, it felt like a different meaning. For Mom. For helping him, for bringing him home, for trusting him. Everything.
"When you left," Eraserhead started, "did you find what you were looking for?"
"What I was looking for…"
"Every time I ran away when I was younger—or when I left—I was looking for something. Did you find what you were looking for?"
Izuku thought about it. No one had asked him that yet. He thought about cold fire dancing between him and his father. The way he had crafted it, the word no in his mouth, that he had said, I'm going to be better. And just a few days ago, seeing Miss Guidance.
They came for you. Another piece clicked into place.
"I think so."
Eraserhead nodded. He didn't really say anything else, but Izuku didn't really need him to.
"You saved my life," Izuku said. "You did, and Toshinori… and you came for me."
"Something All Might said." Eraserhead tugged at his capture weapon. "We were talking, before… he said no one must have come for you for a very long time."
And the years that he had spent longing…
"No," Izuku said quietly. "I don't think so."
Eraserhead nodded firmly, like he was making up his mind. "We'll come for you."
Izuku pulled his knees up and hugged them. Pressed his chin between his knees and dropped his head, and tried not to cry. A moment later, the sound of shuffling and a careful, light touch—a hand draping itself on Izuku's head. Eraserhead pulled him in, and Izuku put his head to his teacher's side, and let himself be held.
The next day Silver knocked on Izuku's bedroom door. Dressed in a familiar jacket but a clean set of clothes, she looked less like a villain and more like the person Izuku knew.
"You're coming with me," she said.
"Hostage situation," Izuku said, following her out the door.
"Shut up, kid." She ruffled his hair, and Izuku batted at her hand.
They wandered through the neighborhood. Silver took his hand, and Izuku locked their fingers together. He pointed out all the old places he remembered. The playground. The streets. His favorite spots.
Then Silver took him down an unfamiliar path, drawing further and further away. She kept holding his hand, but reached into her pocket and took out a few coins.
"Where…"
Silver's tail knocked against him. "Don't you remember?"
When the vending machine came into sight, Izuku knew. Silver got them drinks, and passed him a can of soda. It cracked open, fizzling, and Izuku tipped his head back and drank.
"Let's walk," Silver said.
They went to an old spot—a crumbling wall by the road, and Silver pulled herself up first before Izuku climbed up after. Kicking his legs in the open air, in the calm, quiet streets, Izuku felt like he was reopening a piece of himself.
"You've changed," he commented, glancing at her short hair. Silver touched it, but she knew he wasn't talking about the cut.
"You changed me," Silver said. She flicked at the rim of her can distractedly. "I thought that was it for me. I was just… going to be a villain, and that was it. And it wasn't."
"I told you so," Izuku mumbled. "I don't think either of us were meant to be villains."
She glanced sidelong at him. "I guess you were right."
He tackled her from the side. Silver caught them, hands bracing, but it wasn't a fight—just a hug.
"You got me out," Izuku said, voice muffled against her neck. She tensed.
"I'm glad for it, kid," Silver replied finally, going limp. She reached around him, pressed her chin to his head. A soothing hand stroked his back. "You with your heart of gold."
A thought. Silver, then gold. He wasn't sure if that was what she had meant.
"Yours is silver, then," Izuku said, and she pulled back and laughed.
"You got me."
"Yeah," he said fondly, and she put her head on his shoulder. They watched a bit of the day pass together. "I do."
When they were done, Silver crumpled up the cans and tossed them. He stole her jacket before they parted ways, but Izuku was happy to see her go. He knew—for once, for sure—he'd see her again.
U.A. was… exactly as it had been.
He shuffled nervously through the doors. In daylight it looked so different, though Izuku had seen it a hundred times before. All the burned portions seemed to already have been repaired.
Izuku peeked through the halls on the way to the principal's office. He didn't know if he liked or not—that the remains of Chimera had been swept out, the ashes gathered.
A part of him wanted to see something. A scorch mark. The scuffed floor. Like a scar… a permanent reminder of what Izuku had survived and come out of.
"Come on," Eraserhead called, ahead of him, and Izuku realized he'd been drifting. He hurried to catch up, and fell into step, twisting his hands nervously. Principal Nedzu was waiting in his office, perched high in his chair with a tea set before him.
"Midoriya, Aizawa," he greeted, and Izuku bowed. His heart swept. "Aizawa, you're free to go. Do remember that meeting at four."
Eraserhead grunted. He bowed—if it could be called that—and dragged himself out, leaving Izuku alone with Principal Nedzu.
"You can sit if you like. Tea?"
Izuku wasn't bold enough to stay standing, though he refused the offer of tea. He thought if he drank anything he might throw it up. Eraserhead hadn't said anything about why Principal Nedzu had wanted to see him. Just that he did.
"Are you nervous?"
Izuku's mouth went dry. He nodded once. Principal Nedzu only smiled in response.
"There's no need to be," he reassured Izuku, but Izuku still felt like at any second Principal Nedzu might decide to have him arrested or something like that. "I just have a few questions for you, some business, if you will. And then you'll be off again. I'm sure you've got many things to attend to."
"Um. Yeah."
"Will you answer me truthfully, Midoriya?" Principal Nedzu's beady eyes seemed to pierce right through Izuku. A deadly intelligence pinned him in place.
"Yes," Izuku murmured.
Nedzu clapped his hands. Paws. Whatever.
"You don't have to answer anything you aren't comfortable, but these are not recorded. At the beginning of the school year, when you applied—you were listed as Akatani Mikumi, with a superpower Quirk, is that correct?"
"Yes."
"Will you tell me your real name and Quirk, please?"
"Um— okay… My real name is Midoriya Izuku, and my Quirk is, um, I have an illusion Quirk."
"Fascinating," Principal Nedzu said, half-to-himself. "Yes, very good, thank you. Another question. Can you tell me the reason why you applied to U.A.?"
This time, Izuku averted his eyes. "There's multiple reasons. Sir."
"All of them, then."
"I…" Izuku took a deep breath. "I have always wanted to be a hero. And with All Might, um, mentoring me, I knew that he expected me to attend U.A. for hero studies. But I was also under, I was also under the- the- the, I'm sorry, I was under the instruction of the League of Villains and Chimera to infiltrate, um, U.A. As an informant for them."
Principal Nedzu nodded. "During the entrance exam, when you saved your fellow examinee Uraraka… what were you thinking?"
"Huh?" Izuku picked at his jeans. He shrugged, fidgeting in his seat. "Oh, well, um… I don't know. She was in danger, so I wanted to help her. That's all."
"And what do you think a hero is?"
Izuku sat back and thought about it.
"I think a hero is someone who helps others selflessly. An- and they try to see the good in others, and when they see wrongs they try to right them." Izuku closed his eyes. Faces flashed behind them. All Might, his debut. Toshinori, outlined by the sun and the sand. Eraserhead in the cool night. His teachers. The people he had helped bring down. And his classmates, all of them, and Kacchan. His heart shut, then unfurled.
"And someone who… comes back for you. And who- who makes you feel like you matter."
"That's a good answer," Principal Nedzu said solemnly. He smiled. "Thank you, Midoriya. That was all I needed to know."
"That's… it?"
Principal Nedzu looked bemused. "Were you expecting more, Midoriya? I'm sure I could think of a few questions. You're quite bright from my observations. It would be a pleasure."
"May- maybe next time," Izuku stammered. That sounded, well, intimidating. "But I mean, I thought…"
He faltered. Principal Nedzu's smile turned kind. "Yes?"
"Well, I thought you might, um, expel me or something. I mean, I kind of infiltrated U.A. for a bunch of villains. With all due respect, I think that's against school policy, sir."
"Perhaps." Principal Nedzu's eyes twinkled. "But do you know why I asked you all of those questions, Midoriya?"
"No."
"You were honest with me," Principal Nedzu began, "and when I asked you, you admitted to your own mistakes and the situation under which you had performed them. But I also asked you why you were here… why you continue to be here, beyond that, and I find the answers to be quite revealing as to your continued attendance of U.A. as a hero-in-training."
"That's… that's it?" Izuku asked again. "It- it wasn't, er, I mean, thank you so much for the- thank you so much, principal. I won't… I won't let you down."
"I don't think you could." Principal Nedzu cocked his head. "I have full faith in you, Midoriya. I think you could make a great hero."
"I'll try."
"I'll have you understand something. U.A. is dedicated to helping young students like you become heroes that will change the world for the better. You would not be here if us as a faculty did not think you are capable of it."
"Yes, I understand," Izuku whispered. His throat was dry now—but not for nervousness. "Thank you. Thank you."
Principal Nedzu glanced off to the side. "Ah, I think someone is here to see you."
"Someone…"
The door slammed open. Kacchan made his unhappiness very clear as he stomped in.
"Oi, Deku," Kacchan said. He ran a hand through his hair.
"Oh, so we're talking again," Izuku pointed out, more relieved than anything. Kacchan scowled, and Izuku privately thought if he did that anymore his mouth would be stuck that way permanently. He supposed everyone was used to it, though.
"Shut up, Deku," Kacchan muttered just loud enough to hear—there wasn't any heat behind it. He jerked his head towards the door before leaving first, and Izuku, as he always seemed to do, followed.
They walked—Kacchan stomped—to Ground Beta. A thousand thoughts crossed his mind. Maybe we should have told someone, then maybe it was better we didn't.
"Kacchan…"
Kacchan went further in. Then he turned around.
"You," he yelled, voice echoing, "You and me. Let's fight."
"...What?"
A draft slipped through. Izuku rubbed at his arms, realizing he'd left Silver's jacket back in the principal's office, and squinted tiredly.
Kacchan was mad now, teeth bared, but he was waiting for Izuku. And with a shock, Izuku saw his expression, and Kacchan. Kacchan, bracing to be hit, fists clenched, eyes dark and wanting.
Did you find what you were looking for?
"Come on," Kacchan shouted. He gestured with his arms. "What? You gonna back down, Deku?"
"No," Izuku shot back, and it was sealed. Kacchan was looking for something. "I'll fight you, Kacchan."
That was all Kacchan needed to hear. He shot forward like a bullet, arm swinging in a clean arc. Izuku threw himself back by instinct, and Kacchan missed.
He dodged Kacchan's furious explosion. Heat pulsed towards Izuku's left side, and Izuku faltered. Kacchan closed in, a lone, hungry wolf.
Izuku got in a blow as he swooped under Kacchan's defense. His knuckles connected with flesh, pain stinging, but the hit hardly fazed his friend. Kacchan grabbed his arm, digging in painfully, wrenching Izuku forward.
"Ka—"
It hurt.
Izuku broke free, bile rising in his throat. Panic made him slip out of Kacchan's grasp. He sprinted forward, ducking to avoid another explosion that rang in his ears.
"Deku!" Kacchan shouted.
Izuku glanced back carefully, pressing a hand to his ribs. His shirt pulled taut; Izuku tore himself free again and spun, and Kacchan hit him in the face. He rocketed back.
A pain in his mouth. He'd bitten his tongue; blood, coppery and warm.
"Won't you face me?"
Kacchan rushed towards him. Izuku sank his heels back, grabbing Kacchan. Knee to the stomach— Kacchan threw both hands forward, free, light pouring from his palms. Izuku dropped, bringing his elbow forward sharply and sending Kacchan reeling back with a punch.
Then he turned on his heel and ran away. The distance between them widened as Izuku cut corner after corner, heart pounding.
In hindsight, agreeing to fight Kacchan wasn't the best idea Izuku had ever had. But it wasn't the worst, either; he'd made his fair share of bad decisions, so if they were scolded for it later it would be fine.
Izuku's side twinged. He gasped, feeling himself flinch, and twisted around a building. The sound of a distant explosion, rock against rock. He swallowed, heart beating.
At the very least, Izuku thought, Kacchan wasn't exactly one for stealth.
He put a hand to his side, breathing heavily. If he wanted to win he'd have to be careful—Kacchan might have been at full strength, but Izuku wasn't. He hadn't used his Quirk. He hadn't done any fighting. Only recently had he gotten back into the habit of morning exercise, but that had been careful and limited.
Not great in a fight.
Izuku panted, then dove out of sight. He circled around.
"Deku!"
In between a gap he spotted Kacchan. Hands out, fire on his fingertips.
"Deku!"
Take a deep breath. Take the advantage.
Izuku crept closer and closer, and suddenly wished he had a knife. His fingers felt empty. He flexed them, then in a moment of distraction let himself trip over a crack in the ground.
Izuku flung his arms out, catching himself as he hit the ground, but the sound of his stumble ricocheted.
Kacchan was on him in an instant. Fire burned in his eyes. Izuku's palms scraped painfully against concrete, but he hauled himself up as he drew on his strength.
One for All sang joyfully, snapping into place like a second skin. He'd missed it. Warmth pulsed in his chest and then spread outward.
"Kacchan—"
Kacchan shouted wordlessly. He blasted forward, right hand curling into a fist. Green light lit the ground around him as Izuku twisted cleanly out of the way.
The escape was short-lived. Kacchan spun effortlessly in mid-air and came back around for another hit.
He appeared in front of Izuku, grabbing the front of Izuku's shirt. Izuku struck upward, hard and fast. A fist sank in Izuku's stomach again, and he coughed, barely quick enough to catch Kacchan's other swing.
Kacchan shoved Izuku back. Izuku skidded, feeling the impact rattle in his bones.
"Do you realize how shitty I feel?" Kacchan yelled, pounding Izuku's shoulder. Izuku brought his arms up in defense and blocked a hit. Another. They matched each other, blow for blow— pain battered Izuku's arms, his defenses.
Kacchan wasn't finished.
"You know what I was thinking?" he demanded. Izuku couldn't speak. Kacchan feinted to the right, then sent an explosion near Izuku's face that sent him reeling back, blinded. "This whole fucking time. I thought I was going to lose you and then it was going to be over. I thought during Kamino we were going to get out of there and it was going to be over. I thought after you woke up you were back and it was going to be over."
Kacchan's eyes glinted dangerously. His fist glanced off of Izuku's hand, but the next one clipped his arm.
Izuku caught a nearby railing, swinging himself up. One for All pulsed, and he pressed back then shot forward.
Not enough.
"It was supposed to be over!"
Kacchan slammed into him with the force of a fierce explosion. The edge of his vision went white as Izuku hit steel, sound ringing, and he dropped down, rolling. Kacchan grabbed his arm, hauling up, but it was only to hold Izuku still before he struck again.
"And," he bellowed, voice loud in Izuku's ears, "it—" Izuku leapt back from a kick at his ankles and landed wrong. "—wasn't!"
Izuku's knee gave out on the last word. He crumpled. He wasn't fast enough this time to catch himself and rolled painfully on his side, breathing hard.
Kacchan panted. He stared Izuku right in the eye.
"Every time I lost you I realized," he got out, "I realized it was because I wasn't- I wasn't- strong enough. I hate it. I hate this."
Kacchan's mouth trembled. He gasped for air, and Izuku stayed on the ground looking up at him. A tear ran down Kacchan's face, and then he lifted a hand towards his eyes like he wanted to stop himself. An animal sound left Izuku's mouth.
"Kacchan," he said. His voice broke. "You—"
"How am I supposed to be a fucking hero if I can't even- if I can't- fuck!"
"Kacchan, you're stronger than anyone I know." He took a breath. Kacchan sniffled; Izuku wasn't used to seeing him cry. "You- you did… how are you not a hero? How are you not a hero?"
Kacchan choked. But. He looked at Izuku.
"You saved me!" Izuku was screaming now. He crawled onto his knees. Then he pushed himself up, aching, but Kacchan put out a hand— Izuku took it, palm to palm— "No, it's my turn— you saved me—"
He shoved Kacchan blindly. "You saved me." Izuku hit him again, just fists, and Kacchan took it in like desperation. "I thought of you. I fought for you. When I saw you— when I saw you— at Kamino I—"
Izuku laughed, shaking his head. "You were like the- the sun, like a star, you… I kept going because you were there. How- how are you, h- how are you not a hero, Kacchan? You're mine."
"Do I look weak to you, Deku?"
Izuku smiled. "Didn't I tell you never?"
"Yeah." Kacchan wiped a hand over his face roughly. "I'm going to be the best— fucking hero you've ever.. seen. Got it?"
"I know," Izuku whispered. "I can see it."
"I did it for you, too," Kacchan said. His gaze went distant in memory.
Izuku backed up a step, breathing hard. He put a hand to his chest and felt the rise and fall there. Kacchan watched him, saw the distance between them, and then stepped forward—
Kacchan caught Izuku's wrist. Their eyes met.
"Stop running, Deku." Izuku froze. Kacchan's fingers tightened, and he swallowed. "Stop running from me."
"Okay," Izuku said, and surprised himself with how easily he agreed. Kacchan held. "Okay, Kacchan."
Kacchan didn't let go. He stared at Izuku, long and hard, as his breathing evened and his heartbeat settled. When he found what he was looking for, Izuku saw it pass in his eyes. Then he tugged Izuku closer, and Izuku opened his arms and stepped forward.
"You're my oldest friend," Kacchan said in his ear. Izuku felt him blink. "Deku."
Always more to say. Always more to do. But Izuku closed his eyes and felt their hearts beat in sync, and thought, it's going to be alright now.
Toshinori was waiting for them outside. He smiled when he saw them—he went to Kacchan first, put a hand on his shoulder. Then, gently, when Kacchan didn't protest, Toshinori wrapped his bony arms around him in a hug.
"You're so much stronger than you know," he said, and Izuku wondered how much he had heard, how much he knew. He shook Kacchan's shoulder a little bit, and then leaned in and said more words quieter. It was at a volume that Izuku couldn't hear, but Kacchan stepped back, pushing away.
"Young Bakugou," Toshinori said, his voice soft but insistent in that way that meant he wanted you to listen. Kacchan flinched. He opened his arms a little, to where Kacchan could see them, and inched closer. He said something again, and this time Izuku caught the words hero and what you deserve. He didn't know what Toshinori said.
But maybe it was something Kacchan needed to hear.
"Alright?" Toshinori said.
"Yeah," Kacchan muttered, but the tips of his ears were red. Both Izuku and Toshinori pretended not to see him swipe at his eyes. "Thanks. Whatever, All Might."
Toshinori looked at Izuku next.
"I want you to see something," Toshinori said. He was dressed comfortably today, in a white shirt and jeans, but what struck Izuku was that he looked like he had settled a bit. Like he was comfortable in his own skin in a way he hadn't been.
Kacchan coughed. Toshinori glanced at him. "You as well, young Bakugou."
They trailed after him, banged up from their fight. Bruised and hurt, Izuku nursed his face where he remembered Kacchan hit him as they walked together.
They went to the side of the building, then out. Izuku wondered where they were going. Outside, there was a distant, steady rumbling. He peered around, confused.
"This way," Toshinori gestured.
They walked a little further, and Izuku first saw a patch of building and then the remains—from the front, he hadn't seen the destruction here where a fire had burned through. But next to the main building there was also a new structure, towering. It was just a skeleton of steel and cement, but Izuku saw the sturdy foundation, reaching up and up.
Kacchan lifted a hand over his eyes. "'S that…"
Toshinori turned and smiled at the both of them. "The dorms."
"Bit ugly, don't you think?"
Izuku laughed. "Kacchan."
He turned to inspect the construction. Right next to each other, the differences seemed staggering—on one side, the school was being repaired, but on the other, a new structure was being built.
Toshinori clasped his hands. "I have been the number one hero for a long time," he began, "and I've seen… many, many things. But my power is passed on now. My legacy."
He smiled at Izuku. "And now it was my turn to retire and see others surpass me. I'm going to continue as a teacher here, if you'll have me."
"We'll have you," Izuku said in a rush.
Kacchan rolled his eyes, but Izuku knew he was pleased.
"Before I started teaching I didn't fully grasp how important it was— to ask for help, to share my burden, to be seen by other people…" Toshinori's voice dipped, "...but my students taught me something, too. And I am so grateful for it, and I will never regret the events that took me here."
"All Might…" Kacchan's voice was shaky.
Toshinori chuckled, the sound deep in his chest. "I've talked enough about me, though." He looked behind him, towards U.A. "Do you know what I see?"
"Con… struction?"
"Some answer about the meaning of life," Kacchan muttered, sticking his hands in his pockets. He glanced at Izuku. "And also construction."
"Well," Toshinori said, and laughed again. The sound was familiar and warm. Izuku had missed it. "You're right, my boy. But… do you see it, too? The building was destroyed here, and the dorms are being built over there."
Kacchan stepped closer. Izuku could feel him, close, but not touching.
"Yeah…?" Izuku said slowly.
"What is burnt down can be rebuilt," Toshinori told them. A few figures working on the wall paused and waved. Toshinori waved back, and looked at the bones of the buildings. "And there is always ground to build something new."
He held out a hand, and Izuku stepped forward and took it. Toshinori slid his arm around Izuku's shoulders and leaned down to say, "My boy."
Toshinori studied Kacchan, then Izuku. "And… do you know what I see, when I look at the both of you?"
Izuku shook his head quietly.
"I— see the future," Toshinori admitted. "I see two heroes, and I want to watch you grow. I'm glad I will have that opportunity."
The sun shone, light washing over all of them. Izuku turned his face up towards the sky. Kacchan stepped in. All of them were smiling.
Toshinori's voice continued, a pleasant, constant sound. Izuku opened his chest and let the words into his heart.
"Whatever challenges we may face, whatever storm we must weather… every time I look at you I am promised tomorrow. And it's something I believe in."
"Tomorrow," Izuku murmured to himself, holding his hands up as if he could hold tomorrow in his hands. "There's so much still…"
There was fire, like the living breath of a dragon, and on the edge of the horizon Izuku saw a smudge of darkness, gathering. But spiraling up, surging forth, Izuku had lifted a set of dappled wings and risen, and the light was collecting now between his fingers. Real.
He stood still, blinking, and said, "I never thought I would ever— be here."
"You are," Kacchan said, Toshinori's voice overlapping as he said the same thing.
"Yes," Izuku said aloud. But he hadn't needed to hear it. He knew.
Somewhere, there was a smudged glass window. A careful knock against it. Somewhere pinned on the wall, a glimmering gold medal. Somewhere the sound of waves lapping against the shore, and a name that no longer existed.
It was over, but it was not, and tomorrow was only the start.
THE END. THE BEGINNING.