Midoriya was ill. He was exhausted, sick and falling apart. But he knew he only had a little bit left to accomplish. He had completely lost his voice, only strangled gurgling sounds came out now. He limped everywhere he went, and his left hand was sprained.

His face was sunken in, eyes half lidded and his muscles practically gone. Midoriya was now completely skin and bones. Majority of his veins could be seen through his pale, translucent skin and severe bags under his eyes.

His eyes were partially glossed over.

Midoriya was dying.

This was number four.

He was dying before One for All but now that he completely stopped taking care of himself, it was escalating rapidly. After all, once a weak child, always a weak child.

He had hobbled back to his home. It was the dead of night, two days after the death of All for One, this morning the news was broadcasting how the villain was found slain in Tartarus. They left the teens name out of the news, saying the killer was an unknown rogue vigilante. Midoriya was grateful.

He didn't want his mother in the loop of what he was doing. It would break her.

He slowly walked around the back of the old house. Usually his mom slept with her window open upstairs. He spotted it and carefully scaled the wall.

It took effort to lift himself inside the house but he made it. He faltered and twisted his ankle slightly but was otherwise successful. Looking around the nostalgic room, he couldn't see a woman with green hair anywhere. He opened her bedroom door and left, making his way to his old room.

All Might decorations littered the walls. He walked to his journals and grabbed a few. He had something special written in a few of them, but he also grabbed an empty one to write in for later use. He also went into his closet and pulled out a medium size box. Carefully he rearranged its contents and placed the books inside as well. He hauled the box into his arms and began his way to the living room.

Inside the room, his mom was fast asleep, her figure draped over in a fashion that informed the teen that she was waiting for someone to walk through the door. A flash of guilt and overwhelming sadness flushed through him.

His mom was hurting.

And he was too useless to do anything.

Slowly he made his way up to his room again, picking out a fuzzy all might blanket and his old bear stuffed animal.

Inko had gotten it for him one his fourth birthday after the quirk doctor appointment. She used it along with ice cream as a means to cheer him up. Hopefully it will cheer her up a little too. He sauntered down the steps once more and placed the blanket over his mom, putting her legs on the couch and head on a pillow. He slowly put her arms around the bunny. She needed to be comfortable.

Good thing she had always been a deep sleeper. He slowly took out Notebook Number 4: To Mommy.

He had started it at age seven, and it was like one long letter to his mom. He wrote in it a lot, and one more he wrote a meaningful letter in the back of the notebook. He dated it and laid it on the coffee table beside the couch. He hoped she liked it. It was the least he could do.

Because she was amazing.

She deserved better.

She deserved better than him.

He kissed her forehead and backed up a step. Slowly he picked up the box and pen and exited the house. He locked the door from the inside before beginning his trek to another house.

The Bakugos were next.

Midoriya walked up to their house and got out a limited edition All Might Keychain that he got signed by the hero before USJ. He also pulled out a grenade plush. It looked like Kacchan's arm gauntlets, and took over seven tries and twenty hours for the greenette to make.

Many YouTube videos had been watched.

Many online classes taken.

It was supposed to be a birthday present, as April was closing in fast. But the tables have turned and he needed to give his childhood friend the gift now. He also pulled out a notebook, ironically it was labeled Notebook Thirteen: To Kacchan.

He had that book full of observations of his childhood friend. From ages eleven to fourteen to now. Even small scribbles from his four year old self were thrown in. The picture of Izuku and Katsuki holding hands as kids was put in there. It was drawn by a young Izuku, so not everything was accurately proportioned but for a five year old it was good.

He placed the items on the porch and pressed the doorbell. Midoriya ran a good distance away, safely away from the view of the house yet still able to watch. He heard a couple crashes and then slowly the front door was opened.

By golly, it was Kacchan himself who opened the door. The older teen looked sick as well. Like he hadn't slept for a while and cried way too often.

He looked kinda thin too. He probably isn't eating right, Midoriya deduced.

His heart panged once more seeing his old friend looking around before spotting the gifts.