Izuku closed the file slowly, letting the paper fall back onto the desk with a soft thud. His eyes lingered on Michael, calm but sharp, as if weighing every thought crossing his mind.
— You know… sometimes a place can make you remember things you never thought you knew, he murmured.
Michael’s hand hovered over the edge of the desk.210Please respect copyright.PENANAGmCbgucu0u
— What do you mean?
Izuku stepped closer, voice low, almost hypnotic.210Please respect copyright.PENANA1nW5p5P00x
— The way a floorboard creaks, the way a window rattles… small details, insignificant to most. But they carry a memory. A feeling. Sometimes, it’s just enough to bring something back.
Michael’s chest tightened. He felt a strange familiarity in the air, a tugging at the corners of his mind. He shook his head.210Please respect copyright.PENANA5pPDx2GaLF
— I… I don’t know what you mean.
Izuku smiled faintly, almost imperceptibly, and leaned slightly toward him.210Please respect copyright.PENANAMxBVW6m88R
— You will. And when it happens… don’t resist it. Let it come. Don’t fear what you don’t understand.
Michael’s eyes darted around the office. The filing cabinets, the scattered papers, even the photo of young Izuku—all seemed to pulse with meaning he couldn’t yet grasp. A memory flickered at the edge of his mind: a laugh, a shadow, a name half-remembered.
— Wait… Michael whispered, voice barely audible. I… I think I’ve seen this before…
Izuku’s eyes softened, his tone almost soothing.210Please respect copyright.PENANABEenjsaB7D
— That’s good. That’s the first step. Let it come. Little by little. The house has a way of… unlocking what’s hidden.
Michael swallowed hard. He could feel something stirring, fragments of images and sounds he didn’t fully understand. A fleeting fear, a familiar face, a whisper that seemed to come from nowhere.
Izuku stepped back, his expression calm but unyielding.210Please respect copyright.PENANAcK0pJdYhew
— Don’t worry if it’s confusing. You’re not meant to understand it all at once. Some things… need time to make sense.
Michael nodded, though unease gnawed at him. He couldn’t shake the feeling that the boy in front of him knew far more than he was letting on—yet he had no way of knowing how true that was, or what shadows lay hidden behind Izuku’s careful composure.
The house seemed to close in around them, the wind rattling the windows, the shadows stretching longer, heavier. And somewhere deep within the silence, memories began to stir, waiting for Michael to follow the threads Izuku had so subtly laid out.
ns216.73.217.36da2

