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If there was a single thing that Izumi had an unconditional love for it was the metro. She loved the aspect of waiting, filling the time with useless things like playing games on her phone or catching up on the latest episode of the ten anime she was watching. There was no pressure, no need to be struggling to do something. The void that they existed in, where everyone was a stranger with some unknown place to go, where heroes and civilians gathered in the same moving sphere, wasn’t something she experience as a child. As a child, they were driven everywhere on a set schedule because they were the children of Endeavor. Izumi liked being able to pick when she left the house, liked knowing that she could take the train all the way to Shibuya and go shopping on a whim. It was a kind of freedom she seldom got to enjoy. That morning, they had woken up early enough to avoid rush hour. The quiet, steady thrum of the engine, the lolling back and forth of the train, set Shouto right to sleep. Her shoulder was going slightly numb from the weight of his head, so she folded up her blazer into a makeshift pillow and gently maneuvered him onto it.