Lost and Found
After running for what felt like forever, my feet finally slowed. I stopped, panting, and looked up.
I didn't recognize where I was.
The streets were unfamiliar. The shops were strange. The signs and colors—I had never seen any of them before. I spun around, trying to remember which direction I came from, but it was no use. I'd been too focused on my feelings, too focused on running away, to even notice what I passed.
Lost. I had to find help.
I walked for hours, hoping something would look familiar. Just as the ache in my legs grew too much, I spotted a small shop on the corner. It had a pink awning and colorful candy in the windows—a sweet, nostalgic place that looked safe.
As I stepped inside, the scent hit me. Lollipops. Candy canes. Sugar cookies. It smelled like childhood.
"Hello! Welcome to the Rosemary Candy Shop! How may I help you?" came a cheerful voice.
I looked up—and there she was.
"Tsuyu?" I gasped.
Her eyes widened. "Sarah? What's wrong?! Did something happen?"
And then… I broke.
Tears poured out before I could stop them. Tsuyu rushed over and wrapped her arms around me.
"It's okay," she whispered. "You're okay."
I smiled weakly. "Nothing's wrong. I'm just… glad I found someone."
We sat together until I stopped crying. I told her everything—what happened on the rooftop, the silence, how lost I felt.
She blinked, stunned. "Really? Why would they act like that? Ignoring you after everything… that's just rude."
I gave a small laugh. "It's fine. I just need directions home."
Tsuyu scribbled them down on a scrap of candy-themed stationery. "Be careful walking back. And this time—please pay attention to your surroundings."
I promised I would, and headed out.
As I followed her directions, I passed a clothing shop with a big red bow, just like she said. Then the coffee shop where I worked came into view.
I wasn't far from home after all.
I'd just been too panicked to notice.
As I passed the shop's front doors, the bell chimed. Someone stepped out.
Tomura.
We locked eyes.
For a long second, no one said a word. Just silence.
Then, without a sound, he looked away and walked off.
I stood there frozen. But then I kept walking.
I finally reached the dorm gates—and there, waiting for me, was Ochako.
She ran up and hugged me. "Tsuyu told me everything. I was worried."
Her warmth made my chest ache. "Thank you," I whispered, and we walked into the dorm together.
Inside, sitting on the common room couch, were Bakugou and Todoroki.
Still bitter, I walked past them without a glance, keeping my attention on Ochako as we headed up to my room. I didn't come out the rest of the day.
Days passed. We only spoke at work. Short, clipped words. Just business.
No one said what really needed to be said.
Then, finally, a week off.
I was ready to spend it hiding in my room—alone, undisturbed.
But just as I settled in, a knock came at the door.
I opened it…And there stood the girls.
Smiling. Determined.They weren't about to let me stay locked away.
Girls' Night Out
I opened the door—and there they were. Mina, Jirou, Momo, Ochako, and Tsuyu. All smiling, all dressed up, all radiating one single message:You're not staying in today.
"Let's go, Sarah," Mina said, grabbing my wrist playfully. "We're going out."
I blinked. "Out… where?"
"Wherever we want," Tsuyu chimed in. "Today is all about you."
Before I could argue, they were already pulling me into the hallway. Within ten minutes, I was dressed and in a cab, surrounded by five determined girls who wouldn't take "no" for an answer.
And honestly… I didn't want to say no anymore.
Shopping District
Our first stop was the shopping district downtown. Colorful signs, lively crowds, and shop windows filled with everything from cute outfits to sparkling accessories.
"Try this one, Sarah!" Ochako grinned, holding up a pastel jacket.
Mina shoved a pair of glittery boots into my arms. "These scream new era."
"You don't have to buy anything," Jirou added with a smirk, "but you are trying them on."
We spent hours browsing. I laughed for the first time in what felt like weeks. We posed in front of shop mirrors, made fun of weird mannequins, and had way too much fun in a photo booth cramming all six of us into one frame.
Next stop: karaoke.
Momo reserved a private room, complete with plush sofas, neon lights, and a ridiculous amount of snacks. The moment the screen lit up, chaos ensued.
Mina and Jirou went full rock concert mode, dancing and yelling into their mics like superstars. Ochako sang sweet ballads, her voice soft and beautiful. Tsuyu surprised everyone with an upbeat pop song, and Momo—shy at first—finally joined in, smiling with each note.
They handed me a mic.
I hesitated.
Then I took a deep breath—and sang.
It wasn't perfect. My voice cracked. My timing was off. But when the chorus hit, they all joined in. Every single one of them. Singing, cheering, arms wrapped around each other.
By the end of the song, I was laughing and crying at the same time.
We finished the night with dinner at a rooftop restaurant lit by string lights. The stars above us twinkled softly. A breeze carried the smell of grilled vegetables and fresh bread. It was peaceful. Warm. Safe.
As the food arrived, the chatter slowed.
"You look better, Sarah," Momo said gently. "Happier."
I smiled down at my plate. "I think… I really needed this."
"Want to talk about it?" Jirou asked.
And so I did.
I told them everything—about the rooftop, the fight, the silence. How I felt invisible. Caught in the middle of something I didn't ask for. How ashamed I felt for crying. For running. For not knowing how to handle it.
They listened. No interruptions. No judgment.
"I just felt… like I wasn't enough for either of them," I admitted. "Like I was some prize in a game they were playing."
Tsuyu reached across the table and squeezed my hand. "You're not a prize. You're a person. You're Sarah."
"And you don't owe either of them an answer," Jirou added. "Not until you know how you feel."
Mina lifted her glass of soda. "To Sarah—who's more than enough, all on her own."
Everyone raised their glasses. "To Sarah!"
I clinked mine with theirs, eyes wet again—but this time, not from sadness.
From gratitude.
From healing.