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 --XXXX--
In the middle of the shared grief, a small sound broke the silence.
"…Aki…?"
Akaza froze. The entire world stopped. The sound was so faint, he thought he'd imagined it. He slowly pulled back from Miriko's hug, his heart hammering against his ribs so hard it hurt. His tear-filled eyes snapped to the bed.
He turned.
Rumi's eyes were fluttering, her amber gaze hazy and unfocused, but awake.
"…You're… crying… dumbass…" she whispered, her voice barely audible, like dry leaves skittering on pavement.
Time, which had been frozen, suddenly crashed forward. Miriko gasped, her hands flying to her mouth, a sound of pure joy. Kenji, who had been a pillar of strength, let out a choked sob and stumbled back, his legs nearly giving out.
"Rumi! Oh, my baby, my baby girl!" Miriko cried, rushing to the side of the bed, her hands hovering, afraid to touch.
"You're awake… you're really awake…" Kenji breathed, gripping the bed rail, his knuckles white.
Rumi's eyes slowly tracked them, a flicker of confusion in her gaze.
"Mom…? Dad…?" She tried to sit up, but a sharp wince of pain and the tug of IV lines stopped her. The medic had done their job; the mechanical bed whirred as Kenji fumbled with the controls, slowly raising her into a sitting position.
The moment she was upright, Miriko wrapped her in a gentle, desperate hug, burying her face in her daughter's uninjured shoulder. "We were so scared," she sobbed, her whole body shaking. "The police… they just said there was an attack… that you were… that you were in a bad way. We thought… oh, Rumi, we thought we'd lost you…"
Rumi, still dazed, slowly raised her good arm, patting her mother's back.
"Hey… I'm… I'm okay, Mom. I'm tough, remember?"
"You're a reckless idiot, is what you are," Kenji said, his voice thick, as he stroked her hair, his massive, calloused hand trembling. "Don't you ever, ever do that to us again."
They stayed like that for a long time, a family reforged in relief. Akaza stood back by the wall, silent, his heart a painful, joyous ache in his chest. He watched them, feeling like an intruder on a private, sacred moment. He was just so… relieved. He felt a sudden, desperate urge to flee, to run, to let them have this.
As if sensing his retreat, Rumi's hazy gaze left her parents and found him in the shadows. She saw the tear tracks on his face, the dried blood on his ruined costume, the way he held himself, poised to bolt.
Her expression hardened, just a fraction.
"Mom, Dad," she whispered, her voice still weak. "Can you… can you give us a minute? Please?"
Miriko pulled back, wiping her eyes. "Oh, of course, baby. Of course."
Kenji nodded, giving his daughter one last, lingering look before gently guiding his wife to the door. He paused, his hand on Akaza's shoulder, giving it a single, firm squeeze of gratitude before closing the door behind him.
The room was silent again, but the suffocating grief was gone, replaced by a tense, fragile quiet. The only sound was the steady, rhythmic beep of the heart monitor.
"Sit," Rumi commanded, her voice a little stronger. She patted the space on the bed beside her good arm.
Akaza stood frozen, his guilt flooding back in, cold and heavy. He couldn't. He couldn't sit there, next to her, after what he'd let happen.
"Akaza. Sit. Now."
He obeyed. He walked over, his feet like lead, and sat stiffly on the edge of the mattress, his gaze fixed on the white sheets. He couldn't look at her. He saw the bandages, the cast, the bruises. This was his fault.
"Look at me."
He flinched, but he couldn't disobey. He slowly, painfully, lifted his head. Her amber eyes, though clouded with pain and exhaustion, were sharp, and they were fixed on him. They saw the fresh tear marks on his cheeks, the raw self-loathing in his black eyes.
He opened his mouth, the apology a raw, burning thing in his throat.
"Rumi… I… I'm so sorry. I should have… I was too slow. I let him… I failed you. I…"
SLAP.
The sound was sharp. His head whipped to the side, his cheek stinging. He stared at her, utterly bewildered, his hand instinctively rising to his face.
Before he could process the sting, her good hand fisted in the front of his torn, bloody costume. She yanked him forward with surprising strength, pulling him down. Her chapped, dry lips crashed against his in a kiss that was clumsy, pained, and utterly furious.
It was over in a second. She shoved him back, her chest heaving from the effort.
He just stared at her, his mind a total blank. Slap, then kiss. He was completely lost. He looked down again, the shame and confusion swirling.
"I… I don't…"
Her hand, the one that had just slapped him, came up. But this time, her fingers were gentle. She cupped his jaw, her thumb brushing over the red mark she'd left on his cheek, and forced him to look at her.
"Stop it," she whispered, her voice fierce.
He just looked at her, his black eyes still swimming with guilt.
"Stop blaming yourself. Now." She took a shaky breath, pain lancing through her ribs. "I'm in this with you, Aki. You get that? I knew the risks. I fought. And I lost. That's on me. Not you."
She saw the argument forming in his eyes and cut him off. "You… you're the reason I'm alive. Don't you understand that? That… thing… he was going to kill me. He was going to kill Momo, and Mina, and Kota. You weren't helpless. You weren't too late. You were the difference. The only difference between me being in this bed, and me being in a body bag."
The words hit him, cutting through the fog of his guilt. His mind flashed back to that alley. Yuna. Lifeless. Cold. He had been a child. He had been helpless. He had been unable to do anything but watch, and then mourn.
But this time…
This time, he had fought a Nomu and won. He had arrived. He had stood between the monster and his family. He had, with his own hands, possessed the power to end the threat. He had been the difference.
He hadn't failed Yuna. He had succeeded for Rumi.
He looked at her, really looked at her. The tubes, the bandages, the bruises… and the fierce, stubborn, unconditional love in her amber eyes. He saw the girl he had trained with, fought with, and fallen in love with.
And she was alive.
"I love you so much, Rumi," he breathed, the words coming out with a desperate, shaky relief.
A small, pained smirk, the first real expression he'd seen from her, touched her lips. "Fortunately for you, babe… you're stuck with me for the rest of our lives."
He let out a sound that was half a sob, half a laugh. He leaned in, and this time, he kissed her. It wasn't the chaste, confused kiss from before. It was passionate, desperate, and full of relief. It was a kiss that tasted of dried blood and sterile sheets, of second chances, of a future he had almost lost, and of a future that he will build together with this rabbit.
***************************************************************
Meanwhile, across the city, two men were on their way.
Aizawa and All Might, in his skeletal form, were walking up to a modest, two-story home. The visit to the Jiro household had gone smoothly.
Kyoka's parents, a pair of eccentric but supportive rockers, were more concerned about her earphone jacks' ringing than the villains. They had signed the dorm forms without a second thought.
As they walked down the quiet residential street, All Might finally spoke, the topic weighing heavily on him.
"Aizawa… about the camp. About Young Akaza's actions."
Aizawa didn't even look at him. "Don't."
"I have to," All Might insisted, his voice low. "What he did… what Nezu sanctioned… it was not heroism. It was vengeance. It's a dark path for a student, and for us to condone it…"
"It's a dark world, All Might," Aizawa cut him off, his voice a low grumble. He stopped and finally turned to face the skeletal man. "I'm not happy a kid had to make that choice. But I am satisfied with the result. A rabid dog was put down. My students are alive. Rumi Usagiyama is alive, and not in pieces. So please, All Might… don't preach to me."
He started walking again, his gaze fixed forward. "I respect you. I really do. But your black-and-white ideals don't work in the gray alleys where I do my job. Hard actions are necessary, from time to time. So let's not talk about this further. Let's just focus on the task at hand."
All Might stared at Aizawa's stiff, bandaged back. He knew this was a wall he couldn't breach. He sighed, a small, defeated puff of steam, and followed.
Their next stop was the Bakugo residence. They were met at the door by a woman with spiky ash-blond hair and a fiery demeanor.
"About time," Mitsuki Bakugo said, crossing her arms. "Get in here."
They sat in the living room, All Might beginning his polite, practiced speech about the dorms, when Mitsuki cut him off.
"Yeah, yeah, the dorms are fine, whatever. He's going. But he won't come down."
"Ah, is Young Bakugo still… recovering from his ordeal?" All Might asked gently.
"KATSUKI! GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE! ALL MIGHT IS HERE!" she shrieked at the ceiling.
A muffled "FUCK OFF! I'M NOT TALKING TO 'EM! TELL 'EM WHAT I TOLD YOU!" was the only reply.
Mitsuki sighed, rubbing her temples. "Sorry about that. He's… well, he's him. But he's serious. He told us he's only going back to U.A. if that Akaza kid is still there. The end."
All Might was visibly stunned. "Young Bakugo? But… I would have thought, given Young Akaza's… actions…"
"Actions?" Mitsuki interrupted, her gaze sharp. "He told us what happened. All of it. He told us what those kids said about Akaza. He told us how he set them straight. And then he told us what he saw." Her expression softened, just a fraction. "He said for the first time… he understood what real strength was. And honestly… it's the first time in his entire life he's ever defended someone else, let alone cried over them. It's the first time he's ever shown a shred of maturity."
She looked at her husband, Masaru, who just nodded timidly. "So whatever that Akaza kid did, it opened our brat's eyes. We're not going to get in the way of that. He's going to follow his own path. Our answer won't change."
All Might was speechless. The two students he'd pegged as the most volatile, the most problematic, had formed an alliance based on the one act he couldn't accept.
Aizawa, however, just nodded. "Understood. Thank you for your time." As they were leaving, he paused and handed a small slip of paper to Mitsuki. "Mrs. Bakugo. Your son is... good friends with Ms. Usagiyama and her boyfriend. She's at Musutafu General, Room 305. He might... want to visit."
Mitsuki looked at the paper, a flicker of surprise in her eyes. "…Thanks."
The visit to the Midoriya household was just as Aizawa expected. Inko Midoriya, a wreck of tears and apologies, was hesitant, but Izuku, with a new, somber look in his eyes, agreed. All Might's presence, even in his weakened form, was the final, reassuring push. They secured the signature.
Their final visit of the day was not to a house. They arrived at Musutafu General, the setting sun casting long shadows over the building. As they walked down the hall, they saw two figures standing outside Room 305, holding cups of coffee.
'This is going to be a pain in the ass.' Aizawa thought.
--XXXX--
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