âAHEM PLEASE FORGIVE ME! MY ACCOUNT
                  WAS HACKED AND I NEEDED TO REBUILD IT!
                  I WOULD APPRECIATE IT GREATLY IF YOU
                  WOULD CONTINUE TO SPEAK TO ME HERE!â
I should be⊠trying to return to teaching in the coming week. A little late, which Iâm sorry for, but at the very least I will attempt to supervise the classes that are still being lead by my wonderful assisstants⊠@ua-reaper & @ua-kannazuki
I apologize for my absence and how long itâs been. I really should never let personal matters affect how you all are treated⊠Iâll do my best to ensure that everyone gets what they deserve for the rest of the year and the rest of their education at UA.
If you could choose anyone to study with in 1-B, mostly on the subject of science, who would it be and why?
Ah, I must admit... It feels like itâs been so long since Iâve seriously studied anything. Iâd be thankful if any of them were willing to study with me, all things considering...
I MISSED YOU I LOVE YOU đđđđđđđđđđâ€ïžâ€ïžâ„ïžâ„ïžđđđđđđđđđđđâ„ïžâ„ïžâ„ïžâ„ïžâ€ïžâ€ïžâ€ïžâ€ïžâ€ïžâ€ïžđđđđđđđ
Ah, yes... I apologize that itâs taken me so long to return to U.A... There were some issues with paperwork and the like, but Iâm happy to be back now. Thank you for your continual support. Iâll do my best to ensure that I wonât let you down in the future.
(ua-setsuna) Remember I'm always here if you need to talk, okay... I'm here for you. I'm not mad about anything that happened today so please reach out if you need anyone.
I... Iâm sorry for responding to this so late, but... Setsuna... Really... Thank you so much for everything.
Momoâs been in France for nearly a month now. Today is her birthday, and if her grandfather hadnât surprised her with a sudden visit, she wonders if she would have forgotten. Heâs brought with him an assortment of gifts that had apparently been left for her, as well as some personal ones he had chosen for himself. And when he looks at her, his eyes beam with a certain degree of pride that she doesnât think sheâs seen in ages; he laughs at the sight of her, remarks at how much sheâs grown, how much honor sheâs brought to her family, what her current actions mean for the current status of the Yaoyorozu legacy...Â
And thereâs a piece of her that has to hold back tears at his praise because it all feels so, so wrong.
That part of her has grown smaller now though. Nearly nonexistent. In a country far away from her closest friends and family, with only the support of the Hero Commission and her distant relatives to give her any solace, that part of her has whittled away into scarcely anything at all. She wonders if that thought should sadden her.
Touma looks a little uncomfortable for a moment and excuses himself to the bathroom.
When he returns with a noticeable lump in his pocket, thereâs a curiosity sparkling in his eyes and he looks at her. Really looks at her. Momo wonders when was the last time someone actually had.
âSweetheart⊠Is there something youâre not telling me?â
Momo doesnât even have the energy to sigh at the question, instead fingering a sparkly green box that sits upon the pile of gifts her grandfather had brought. Thereâs something about it that holds her attention, but she canât quite pinpoint what exactly it is. âI have internship duties today, Grandfather. Iâm not sure how long I can stay with you to chat.â
Touma frowns, obviously hurt by the answer. âWhy, you canât even take a day off to spend time with your loving grandfather whoâs already flown all this way?â
âI cannot abandon my duties, Grandfather. Youâre the one who taught me that.â
He says nothing for a moment, leaning back in his chair with a relatively dumbfounded expression on his features. âWell⊠Yes. I suppose thatâs true. Itâs important for you to live with the responsibility of your actions. You are the one who wanted to be a hero after all, and now that youâre getting all of these opportunities⊠It wouldnât be fair of you to change your mind. After all, people expect a great deal of things from you now, Momo.â
It isnât until night falls, when sheâs said her goodbyes to her grandfather and finished her duties for the day that she finally gets to open that sparkly green present.
Left on top of the bundle of presents already left there by other people is a sparkly green package, wrapped with silly wallpaper covered in little lizards and dinosaurs. Inside is a bundle of shirts, a light pink one, a light blue and a black one. The pink one reads "GO CREATI!", the blue "GO LIZARDY!" and the black, a complicated and beautiful graphic of both their names with matching logos. A picture with Setsu wearing the Creati shirt tops it, the back saying "HAPPY BDAY! To you + to us đ"
[prev.]
Momo opens the gift wrapping carefully, almost smiling at the tiny reptilians that smile at her on the paper. When she takes in the designs of the shirts, she feels something in her chest ache - a feeling that is all at once so distant and yet so, so familiar. A lone tear runs down her cheek as she runs her thumb over the picture of Setsuna wearing the matching shirt.
Within the next hour, sheâs resigned from her internship in France and is boarding a plane back to Japan.
Mayumi and Ichirou sit at opposite ends of the dining table, doing everything they can to avoid looking one another in the eye. Theyâve made it a point to continue acting as though everythingâs okayâfor Momoâs sake, they continue to insist, though at this point its more for their own than herâs. Appearances have always been their everything and that much shouldnât have to change. So they continue to play the respective roles of loving husband and wife, doting mother and father, with masks of carefully painted porcelain and smiles that never truly reach their eyes. Itâs been fairly easy to do; Ichirou had already been spending nights at the office even before their big fight, and Momo had planned to stay in Musutafu to be closer to her internship. Their interactions have been minimal at best.
Which is what makes this whole thing feel even worse.
They had both been surprised to receive individual calls from the heads of the familyâs chauffeur team, informing them that âMiss Yaoyorozu will be arriving at the family estate just past sevenâwe apologize that she wonât be arriving until after dinner, but this is the best we can do on such short notice. Our sincerest apologies.â
Mayumi had lamented that the news was âmost regrettable,â Ichirou had responded that such circumstances were âperhaps unavoidable,â and then they had each hurried to call the other with frustrated demands to learn just what exactly was going on.
Neither one had an answer for the other. And so, really, all they could do was arrange for a caterer to provide the setting of a loving family dinner, sit at their respective places at the dinner table, and wait.
Today was the first official day of her internship.
Momo hasnât even been working for a full day.
Mayumi canât help but bite her lip at the thought, consciously doing everything in her power to not sneak a glance at her husband across the table. But she canât help but wonder what heâs thinkingâif heâs rushing to the same conclusion that she is, the only viable conclusion, really, given that Momoâs made the decision on her own to return home and that she hadnât even bothered to phone ahead to let her parents know.
Ichirou, for his part, has been unable to take his eyes off his wifeâand he wonders if its the weight of his gaze that warns Mayumi to never once grace him with even the most sparing of glances, lest they make eye contact and feel obligated to start up a conversation.
It pains him in a way that he canât quite describe.
Her hair is pulled back in a way thatâs he knows is meant to appear somewhat messy, but the way the stray strands of hair frame her solemn features only seems to highlight the gauntness of her cheeks and the dark circles beneath her eyes. The red of her lips is moreso from the way she gashes at them with her teeth than the artificial color of her makeup; in fact, the light application of blush only seems to emphasize the pale pallor of her features. She looks stressed and tired and almost forsakenâand it feels as though itâs been lifetimes since Ichirou last saw her like this.Â
But the fact of the matter is that it had only been last November, when news of the attack on U.A. had first been released and they werenât yet sure if Momo was okay or if theyâd lost her forever to the cruel trials of the world.
The door chooses that exact moment to softly click open, and at the subtle break of silence, Mayumi and Ichirou rise to their feet in expectation.
âMomo darling, is that you?â
Thereâs no response.
âSweetheart, youâre just in time for dinner!â
Nothing.
Ichirou feels himself stiffen up as a chill runs down Mayumiâs spine. He whips his head back to stare at her once more, a desperate, questioning look in his eyes as he finds himself at a total loss for what to do, unable to understand what it is thatâs going on because he fears too strongly what that understanding might mean.
Mayumi doesnât spare him a glance. And the door clicks shut.
The sound seems to spur her into action, and she scurries out of the dining room without another word. Ichirou finds himself chasing after the crimson silk of her top, turning sharp corners in a desperate attempt to keep her in his sight and to be led to the answers sheâs sure to find.
Still standing in the entryway to the parlor is Momo, clad in her hero outfit and an expressionless mask. Her bags are nowhere in sight and her shoulders are slumped forward, as though theyâre being forced down by a burden invisible to them all. She stares at her parents, blankly, and when Mayumi rushes to give her an affectionate hug and a kiss on the cheekâas is their usual greetingâMomo flinches back.
She flinches.
An expression of shocked horror consumes her motherâs features as she struggles for the words to say, but it seems that such an attempt is futile. Before sheâs even given a chance, Momo simply shakes her head, turns, and walks up the staircase to her room.
For the first time since their fight several nights ago, Mayumi finds herself willingly turning to meet Ichirouâs gaze, eyes wide, desperate.
Ichirou says nothing but the knowing way in which he stares says everything.
Mayumi falls to her knees, grabbing at her hair as her breathing picks up, as her worst fears are all but confirmed and she realizes that her prayers fell on deaf earsâas they always doâand that it really is trueâŠ
Sheâs useless.
(She just wanted to do what was best for her family.Â
Itâs been three days since Momo arrived back home. She hasnât left her room and she hasnât said a word since her return. Her parents are forced to leave food outside her doorstep in the hopes that sheâll at least eat something, but their hopes are always dashed.
Until that fateful morning.
Ichirouâs sitting at the table, coffee in one hand and newspaper in the other. Itâs just for show, reallyâhe canât find it in himself to idly read when thereâs so obviously something wrong with his daughter and absolutely no way for him to know what it is exactly.Â
Mayumi had tried to call the Hero Commission directly to try and get some answers, but even that led to minimal luck: the line had constantly been busy, and even when she did get to speak to a representative, she was simply told that the family would be receiving a personal call from the head of the commission with the finer details, but what she could be told was that there had been an accident during the internship orientationâbut nobody had been hurt, not really. Her daughter was perhaps just experiencing some shock but would surely explain herself in no time. There was no need to worry.
No need to worry.
Needless to say, Mayumi had screamed and yelled and threatened the helpless representative, demanding to speak to an actual head of the commission âas soon as fucking possibleââonly to be promptly hung up on.
She hadnât gotten another call through since.
Not wanting to drag her mother into the mess and not wanting to somehow make things even worse for herself, Mayumiâs settled for canceling all further appointments so that she can remain at her vigilant post in her home, waitingâprayingâfor the moment that Momo will finally come down the stairs. Ichirou, too, has stopped going to work and has been sleeping at the dining room table while Mayumiâs taken the living room sofa; they both know that, logically, there are countless bedrooms for them to choose from⊠but both fear the possibility that theyâll miss their daughter.
And it really is just Momo that ties the two together at this point, so thatâs probably why their personal sleeping arrangements have yet to be brought up. Though, to be fair, they havenât been saying much to each other at all.
Mayumiâs slumped over the tabletop, absentmindedly watching the steam from her tea drift ever upwards when she sees it in the periphery of her vision: the gentle steps as someone makes their way down the staircase.
She sits up immediately in surprise and, noticing the change in her demeanor, Ichirou is quick to turn his attention to the staircase as well.
Sure enough, thereâs Momo: a blanket thrown over the heroâs outfit sheâs yet to change out of and her hair oily and stuck to the sides of her face. She makes eye contact with no one as she takes her seat at the dining room table.
Mayumiâs lips part in greeting, but no sound comes out. From the corner of her eye, she sees Ichirou shake his head at her and, for once, she consciously agrees with his silent warning. Her husband pours Momo a fresh cup of tea from the pot as Mayumi hurries to the kitchen to grab a makeshift breakfast.
Momo finishes the meal in silence. And every time Mayumi tries to break it, she catches Ichirou subtly shaking his head. Her heart surges in her chest as Momo stands up, wishing, wanting to say something but not being able to find the proper thing to say. She doesnât know where her courage has gone, but it seems that itâs nowhere to be found.
For a few moments, Momo lingers in the entranceway, fingers gripping tightly onto a nearby column for support. She doesnât turn around when she finally speaks.
Mayumi and Ichirou sit at opposite ends of the dining table, doing everything they can to avoid looking one another in the eye. Theyâve made it a point to continue acting as though everythingâs okayâfor Momoâs sake, they continue to insist, though at this point its more for their own than herâs. Appearances have always been their everything and that much shouldnât have to change. So they continue to play the respective roles of loving husband and wife, doting mother and father, with masks of carefully painted porcelain and smiles that never truly reach their eyes. Itâs been fairly easy to do; Ichirou had already been spending nights at the office even before their big fight, and Momo had planned to stay in Musutafu to be closer to her internship. Their interactions have been minimal at best.
Which is what makes this whole thing feel even worse.
They had both been surprised to receive individual calls from the heads of the familyâs chauffeur team, informing them that âMiss Yaoyorozu will be arriving at the family estate just past sevenâwe apologize that she wonât be arriving until after dinner, but this is the best we can do on such short notice. Our sincerest apologies.â
Mayumi had lamented that the news was âmost regrettable,â Ichirou had responded that such circumstances were âperhaps unavoidable,â and then they had each hurried to call the other with frustrated demands to learn just what exactly was going on.
Neither one had an answer for the other. And so, really, all they could do was arrange for a caterer to provide the setting of a loving family dinner, sit at their respective places at the dinner table, and wait.
Today was the first official day of her internship.
Momo hasnât even been working for a full day.
Mayumi canât help but bite her lip at the thought, consciously doing everything in her power to not sneak a glance at her husband across the table. But she canât help but wonder what heâs thinkingâif heâs rushing to the same conclusion that she is, the only viable conclusion, really, given that Momoâs made the decision on her own to return home and that she hadnât even bothered to phone ahead to let her parents know.
Ichirou, for his part, has been unable to take his eyes off his wifeâand he wonders if its the weight of his gaze that warns Mayumi to never once grace him with even the most sparing of glances, lest they make eye contact and feel obligated to start up a conversation.
It pains him in a way that he canât quite describe.
Her hair is pulled back in a way thatâs he knows is meant to appear somewhat messy, but the way the stray strands of hair frame her solemn features only seems to highlight the gauntness of her cheeks and the dark circles beneath her eyes. The red of her lips is moreso from the way she gashes at them with her teeth than the artificial color of her makeup; in fact, the light application of blush only seems to emphasize the pale pallor of her features. She looks stressed and tired and almost forsakenâand it feels as though itâs been lifetimes since Ichirou last saw her like this.Â
But the fact of the matter is that it had only been last November, when news of the attack on U.A. had first been released and they werenât yet sure if Momo was okay or if theyâd lost her forever to the cruel trials of the world.
The door chooses that exact moment to softly click open, and at the subtle break of silence, Mayumi and Ichirou rise to their feet in expectation.
âMomo darling, is that you?â
Thereâs no response.
âSweetheart, youâre just in time for dinner!â
Nothing.
Ichirou feels himself stiffen up as a chill runs down Mayumiâs spine. He whips his head back to stare at her once more, a desperate, questioning look in his eyes as he finds himself at a total loss for what to do, unable to understand what it is thatâs going on because he fears too strongly what that understanding might mean.
Mayumi doesnât spare him a glance. And the door clicks shut.
The sound seems to spur her into action, and she scurries out of the dining room without another word. Ichirou finds himself chasing after the crimson silk of her top, turning sharp corners in a desperate attempt to keep her in his sight and to be led to the answers sheâs sure to find.
Still standing in the entryway to the parlor is Momo, clad in her hero outfit and an expressionless mask. Her bags are nowhere in sight and her shoulders are slumped forward, as though theyâre being forced down by a burden invisible to them all. She stares at her parents, blankly, and when Mayumi rushes to give her an affectionate hug and a kiss on the cheekâas is their usual greetingâMomo flinches back.
She flinches.
An expression of shocked horror consumes her motherâs features as she struggles for the words to say, but it seems that such an attempt is futile. Before sheâs even given a chance, Momo simply shakes her head, turns, and walks up the staircase to her room.
For the first time since their fight several nights ago, Mayumi finds herself willingly turning to meet Ichirouâs gaze, eyes wide, desperate.
Ichirou says nothing but his knowing stare says it all.
Mayumi falls to her knees, grabbing at her hair as her breathing picks up, as her worst fears are all but confirmed and she realizes that her prayers fell on deaf earsâas they always doâand that it really is trueâŠ
Sheâs useless.
(She just wanted to do what was best for her family.Â
Touma doesnât like to involve himself in the particulars anymore; as a retired CEO, he likes to imagine that such tasks are his sonâs responsibilities.
But heâs always believed that if you ever want something done properly that you have to do it yourself.
Although a part of him is annoyed at his sonâs ineptitude, Touma would be lying if he said that he actually minded having to sift through the companyâs confidentials to try and brainstorm a way out of their financial situation. In a way, it brings him back to the old daysâback to simpler times when their familyâs reunion was a vague possibility far, far into the future; something more like a nightmare that only appears in fever dreams instead of a horrible reality that threatens to crush him under its weight.
And thatâs when the sensation starts: like a forceful, painful jab to his gut, followed by the feeling of some invisible force grabbing hold of his esophagus and squeezingâhardâuntil heâs left on his knees, clawing at his chest and gasping for air and watching as the world around him oscillates between black and white and red andâ
Itâs moving. Whatever is inside him is movingâup from the base of his stomach, up through his chest and his throat until he finds himself gagging on whatever it is, whatever he canât see untilâ
It forces its way past his lips and sputters forth onto the table: rough, jagged, smelling like bile but tasting metallic, like iron, like blood, likeâ
The shine is undeniable. Touma can hardly take his eyes off it and itâs almost as though the awful pain he had just endured never happened at all.
After Momoâs turned in for the night and Ichirouâs left to cancel their daughterâs trip to France, Mayumiâfor the first time in a long timeâfinds herself kneeling at her bedside, praying. Sheâs not entirely sure if thereâs even a point, if sheâs even doing it right. She just wants some sort of validation that sheâs doing the right thing, that sheâs not damning her family to a fate worse than the one they had been following.
Mayumi doesnât move when the door opens, even though the sound of its opening and shutting is enough to stop the beating of her heart. The silence remains for a few moments, and she keeps her eyes shut as she continues to hurriedly mouth the words from muscle memory alone, hoping that the prayer will still work as long as she pretends, even if she doesnât remember.
Sheâs pulled from her thoughts at the sudden presence on the bed in front of her, and when she opens her eyes, she finds herself kneeling between Ichirouâs legs as he glares down. He doesnât look at her faceânot directlyâand instead seems to be focused on the hands she has clasped in front of her. âWho are you praying to? We both know you donât believe in God.â
The words send tremors running down her spine and, quietly, still unable to meet his gaze, she brings her hands to rest in her lap. Itâs obvious to him that the action is shameful to herâthough heâs not sure which part of it exactly is bringing her so much disgraceâdespite Mayumiâs intentions to keep such emotions to herself. In fact, sheâs not quite sure when she started to feel this way in front of Ichirou. She knows that fear isnât exactly the right wordâthat her real emotion is somewhere between insecurity and anxiety and, yeah, maybe fear at the churning of emotions in her never-steady heart; fear at the way her cheeks flush when she looks up at him, fear at the way her breath catches in her throat when he speaks to her, fear at the way she plays their last kiss over and over again in her mind when itâs late at night (when she canât help but touch herself to the memory and the endless possible ways that encounter could have ended but didnât).
âI-I justâŠâ
âYou sent an application to the Hero Commission on Momoâs behalf,â Ichirou smoothly supplies. âYou didnât tell me, and you didnât tell Momo, and now youâre not sure if youâve done the right thing.â
Hot tears prick at Mayumiâs eyes as she whips her head up to look at him; the desperation to be understood, to be validated, shines like shimmering diamonds when itâs caught in the ebony of her lashes and despite everything thatâs happened as of late, Ichirou feels his heart clench at the sight. It takes everything in his power to not reach out to wipe away the tears that threaten to spill down her cheekâbut to do so would be to give in. And despite the obvious hypocrisy of the situationâthe hypocrisy that perhaps Mayumi can sense though she certainly canât understandâIchirou finds that giving in is the very last thing he wants to do in this situation.
The first tear falls.
âIchirou⊠What are we doing, trying to decide our daughterâs future like this⊠Whereâs the justice in ripping her dreams away from her when sheâs barely had the chance to chase after themâŠ?â
Her husband says nothing: just watches in amazed silence as the tears continue to run down Mayumiâs reddened cheeks.
âWeâre doing whatâs best for her,â he eventually answers. âThatâs our duty as her parents, Mayumi.âÂ
(Even as the words leave his lips in the most confident of ways, he isnât sure that he fully believes them himself.)
âWe both know how terrible and cruel this world can be. And so itâs up to us to shelter Momo from it as much as we possibly can. Inheriting the Yaoyorozu Corporation would offer her the most financial and social stability despite the worldâs current affairsâwe both know that.â He runs his hand along the curve of her jaw, gingerly wiping away a stray tear with his thumb against his better judgment. âWeâre doing whatâs best for Momo,â he repeats again, softer.Â
(Marrying her off is just an extra contingency planâitâs just to make sure that her inheritance remains an option. Itâs not the most moral thing to do, Ichirou knows that. But he also understands that sometimes such things are absolute necessities, and he knows that his wife has yet to develop such awareness. His keeping secrets is just protecting Mayumi from the worldâs injustices as well; heâd gladly accept the metaphorical blood on his hands and his hands alone, just as heâs learned to accept its physical manifestation that threatens to stain everything he touches.)
Ichirouâs hand tightens its grip on her jaw.Â
âOr, at least, I thought we were.â
Mayumi chokes on her emotion as she swats his hand away and flinches from his touch. The vulnerability is still evident in the trembling of her frame but a new steeliness shines brightly in her eyes. âHow dare you,â she snarls. âYou must know that I only acted out of the purest of intentions!â
âNo,â Ichirou glowers, pulling the glove off his hand as though itâll alleviate the sting of Mayumiâs touch. The blood drips onto the white of their linens and the white of her nightgown, but neither of them seem to care. âYou acted without thinking, thatâs what you did.â
âI thought that we were being cruel, being heartlessâbeing like our parents,â she spits back. âAnd why would either of us ever want something like that?â
Ichirou feels something like pride surge up in his chest as he grabs the front of Mayumiâs nightgown and pulls her forward to meet his gaze head-on, minimizing the distance between them so that she can see for herself the weight of her own words. âMy father,â Ichirou grits, âIs a good man that always puts his family first. Though I suppose youâd be oblivious to such a quality since youâve chosen to blind yourself to anything that has to do with an honest, unprejudiced view towards me or my family.â
Red flashes through her eyes as she grabs at his collar herself. âIâm your family too, you idiot!â She shrieks. âStop talking about your family as though Iâm not a part of it, because you know damn well that I am!â
He scrunches his nose at her in distaste, angling his face away from her as the spit lands on his cheeks. âYou know I didnât mean it like that.â
âShut up,â she hisses. âAt this point, I never know what you meanâitâs like I donât even know you anymore!â
âOr maybe you never knew me to begin with.â
As the words leave his lips, both of them find themselves taken aback by the weight of their truth.
They both simultaneously release their grips on the other; Mayumi falling lamely back onto the bloodstained carpet and Ichirou looking lost and frightened as he sits atop the reddened sheets.
Neither knows what to say, but theyâre both of the firm belief that the other is wrong.
âGet out.â
Ichirou stares dumbly at the woman in front of him. âWhat?â
âI said: Get. Out.â
The staccato nature with which the words are repeated effectively hammers their meaning into his heart. He fists the fabric within his bloody fingers. âMayumi,â he grits. âThis is my house.â
âLike hell it is,â she bites back. âGet. The fuck. Out.â
Ichirouâs face burns a bright red as he slowly rises to his feet, staring down at the furious woman beneath him and wondering when he began to see imperfection in the beauty of her features.
âYouâve done wrong, Mayumi,â he murmurs. âAnd I pray for us all that you donât have to realize it the hard way.â
He slams the door on his way out and Mayumi can do nothing but sit and stare at the blood her husband left behind. Itâs not until she hears the revving of his car as he drives away that she curls up into a ball and allows herself to cry.
Mayumi does a lot for her family. She manages their finances. She makes the important household decisions. Sheâs kept them together even when it would have been so, so easy to tear them all apart.
But she always does what she knows will be best.
Always.
âMomo, sweetie! It looks like youâve received a letter.â
At the disruption of silence, Ichirou looks up from his paperwork. Thereâs suspicion in his eyes that he tries to hide by taking a well-timed sip of his coffee. âSheâs packing for her flight tomorrow. Whoâs the letter from? It can probably wait.â
Theyâre the first words heâs directly said to her since their fight at the parent-teacher conferences. Mayumiâs well-aware that the only reason heâs returned to living in the house is because Momoâs returned home for the summer; once she leaves on this experiential learning trip, Ichirouâs simply just going to disappear again.
Mayumi knows this. And thatâs fine. She doesnât⊠She doesnât want him anyway, she doesnât need himâŠ
She doesnât...
âThe Hero Commission.â
Ichirouâs grip on his mug tightens as the suspicion in his eyes morphs into accusation. âMayumi, youââ
âA letter?â Momo repeats as she rushes down the stairs. âFor me?â
Her mother smiles as she passes the envelope to her. Ichirou doesnât take his gaze off of his wife. âDo open it, darling. It looks important.â
If Momo knew how to look, sheâd see the strained tension in her parentsâ shoulders, sense the immense disconnect that lies between them. But she doesnât know, and so sheâs oblivious in her excitement as she tears open the letter and drops her jaw in surprise.
âA-A hero internship? But I didnât even apply!â
Mayumiâs heart races as she forces her smile to widen. It feels so fake. She hates that she has to do this but sheâs doing whatâs best for the family. Sheâs always done whatâs best for the family. Because she wants to be a good mother, and sheâll do anything it takes to be a good mother, anythingâ
Ichirou doesnât take his gaze off of his wife.
âThatâs wonderful, darling,â he says slowly, carefully, with just enough kindness in his voice to distract from his obvious disapproval. âAbsolutely wonderful.â
Momoâs eyes are shining brightly as she alternates between looking at the neatly typed paper and at her parents. âI-I just⊠How did this evenâŠâ Thereâs the shadow of a smile dancing on her features, longing to be unleashed and just barely being held back; the sight of it twists something in Mayumiâs heart.
âClearly your teachers werenât exaggerating when they said that youâre one of the best U.A. has to offer! Word must have gotten around, and I suppose they just couldnât stop themselves from reaching out once they saw you hadnât sent in an application.â She forced a hollow laugh. âWould you like at that! My daughter, personally scouted to become a hero protege!â
At those words, Momo can no longer hold back the smile that finally graces her features. âMe⊠A heroâŠâ Thereâs a dreamy look in her eye as she plays around with the idea in her mind, features only brightening. âA heroâŠ!â
Ichirou never takes his gaze off Mayumi and Mayumi doesnât find the courage to stare at him directly; a mere glimpse of him in her peripheral vision says it allâ âYouâre a liar.â
And maybe Mayumi is. All her life, sheâs been told that sheâs nothing more than a manipulative bitch. Perhaps she spent too much time fighting back against the oppressive label when she should have been embracing it.
She saunters to her daughterâs side and wraps her in a tight hug, heart racing in her chest as she muses about what the future will hold and tries to ignore the trepidation in her chest at the possibility that sheâs pushing everyone further and further away from her when she wants nothing more than to keep them by her side for forever. âAnd you did it all on your own, sweetie. Remember that this victory is wholly yours and yours alone.â
Momo canât stop the tears of joy that spring forth from her eyes as she pulls her mother closer, an excited giggle dancing past her lips. Mayumi just buries her head into her daughterâs shoulder, doing everything she can to pretend that sheâs unfazed by the wounds sheâs carved into her husbandâs back or his pained, piercing glare that burns her skin more and more with each passing second.
(ua-setsuna) Hey!!!! Momo! Just wanted to wish you good luck for your internship! You're gonna do GREAT, I know it! Can't wait to see you at Orientation!! đđ
O-Oh! Setsuna-san, thank you so much!! I wish you the best of luck as well!!
Itâs been a while since weâve seen each other, hasnât it...? Iâm looking forward to seeing you again too!
gummygunk
2087
pixelskylines
dailybridgerton
turnnoffyourmind
germansingergirl
gamechangershow
