17 Feb 2019
“My thanks.” He says, smiling back. “What is your name, boy?”
“I’m Izuku! Izuku Midoriya, sir!” The boy replies, excited, looking up at him. And Toshinori looks into the unmoving washed out green, into milky white pupils visible behind the mess curly hair, and realizes.
The boy is blind.
The boy that he distinctly saw dodge a series of fairly quick attacks, light on his feet and clearly used to some kind of training, the boy that had thrown him the bottle at the perfect height and perfect speed, the boy that has easily collected his spilled groceries and orderly put them back into the little plastic bag—
The boy. Is blind.
Bookmarked by victorswreath
26 Apr 2018