Exiting the room, Renji couldn't help but smirk.
Endo-sensei really was a strange guy. At times he would spend hours on end "working" only for Renji to realize he was just goofing around. Just a few weeks ago, Endo had even called him over during office hours just to play games.
Still, he had been there for him since the very beginning. Always being supportive.
But things are changing now. It was time Endo realized that too.
Although Renji felt bad for being a little harsh, he knew there was no room for messing around.
As he walked down the quiet corrider, the chatter of other meetings and offices seemed far too distant. His smirk faded into a thin line.
Pausing by one of the tall windows, Renji glanced outside at the campus. Students laughed and milled about freely, their lives untouched by tragedy like his. But he was still sure they had their own nightmares, even if it may seem small comparatively.
For a brief second, he envied them.
But envy wouldn't get him into U.A. Envy wouldn't keep him safe.
"Sorry, Sensei," Renji muttered under his breath. "I can't stay the same kid you met years ago."
With his mind churning, he fixed his blazer and pushed forward.
—Barbershop, Tokyo—
"You sure you don't want to try something new?" The barber asked.
"For the last time, no." Renji shot back, not even looking up from the mirror.
The barber chuckled, snipping away at the longer strands near Renji's ears. "Alright, alright. Just making sure. Most kids your age want something flashy, keeps me in business."
Renji kept his gaze fixed on the mirror. "Doesn't mean I have to get a different haircut."
Responding with a short grunt, the barber relented, continuing to cut his client's hair. "Fair enough, I won't hold it against you."
"Thanks." Renji replied bluntly. What was with everyone trying to change my mind today?
Either way, the man didn't press further. Instead, he shifted around to the back, trimming with quick, practiced motions.
Loose tufts of dark brown hair drifted down onto the cape, collecting in Renji's lap.
"You've got good hair," the barber remarked. "Couldn't tell under that mop you came in with. Might even call it handsome if you cleaned yourself up a little more often.
Renji allowed himself a faint smile. "I'll take your word for it."
The barber grinned. "Well, at least someone around here listens."
Across the barbershop, a loud voice boomed. "What do you mean by that, Watanabe?"
Laughing it off, Watanabe kept up with precision that showcased his vast experience with cutting hair.
"You know what I mean, Fujimoto. When was the last time you listened to your wife?"
The fellow barber let out a booming laugh that filled the whole shop. "Listen to her? Never! If I started doing that, I'd never hear the end of it."
A couple of waiting customers snickered, and Watanabe rolled his eyes with a grin. "See? No wonder she's always chewing you out. You know, I'm pretty sure she has a point at least half the time."
"Half the time's still half too much," Fujimoto shot back, sending the room into another round of laughter.
Renji glanced at them through the mirror, their easy banter echoing around the shop.
Noticing Renji's look, Watanabe explained, "I've known Fujimoto forever. Even if he's an old fart and I'm still strapping, he and his wife are good company. The missus is a delight to have around."
Sneaking a look at Fujimoto to make sure he wasn't paying attention, Watanabe leaned in close to Renji. "Although, between you and me, she's got more patience than I ever could. If I were married to that stubborn fool, I'd have kicked him out years ago."
Renji huffed a quiet laugh through his nose, the first genuine one he'd felt all day.
Watanabe smirked. "See? I got past your little tough guy act. Not bad for an old barber, huh?"
Before Renji could reply, Fujimoto's booming voice carried across the room again. "Oi, Watanabe! You gossiping about me over there?"
"Nothing you don't already know!" Watanabe shouted back, grinning as he brushed the last loose hairs from Renji's shoulders. "All done, kid. Go out there and make the world notice you."
Renji studied himself in the mirror one last time, fingers brushing against his newly neat hair. "Looks pretty good, tha—"
"Renji-kun!" Right as he was about to pay for his cut, Renji heard the familiar call of Emi Watanabe as she zoomed through the shop's door like a cheetah.
"Hey there, Emi." Watanabe said, noticing her come in. Or rather, sprint in.
Giving her a strange look, Renji asked, "How'd you know I was here?"
Emi skidded to a stop in front of him, hand on her knees as she caught her breath. "I knew I'd find you here. You always come crawling back to Dad for your haircuts. And you always cut your hair at the same time, very predictable."
Watanabe raised a brow from behind the chair. "Crawling back? Please. The boy's loyal. That more than I can say for half my customers."
Emi rolled her eyes, straightening up and brushing her hair out of her face. "Don't go giving him too much credit. He's just stubborn."
Renji shrugged, tugging lightly at his blazer sleeve. "What are you doing in Tokyo anyway Emi-san?"
Emi puffed out her cheeks at his question. "What, can't I come visit without an interrogation?"
Renji gave her a flat look. "You live in Musutafu. That's at least an hour train ride. People don't just 'drop by' Tokyo."
"Ugh, fine." She crossed her arms, feigning defeat. "I had some errands to run for Ryuga and since I was already here, I thought I'd check up on you. You didn't answer my messages."
Emi gave Renji a look that carried genuine concern. "You've been shutting everyone out again."
Renji frowned, his hand pausing on his wallet. "No, I haven't—"
"Yes, you have." Her voice was softer now, but unyielding. "You think I don't notice? Your mother used to tell me everything about you, like how stubborn you can be. How you'd rather do things alone than let anyone help."
Renji froze, his throat tightening at the mention of Evelyn. He looked out the shop window where the late afternoon sun stretched golden beams across the busy street. "That was a long time ago."
"Not for me, and not for you either." Emi replied, almost in a whisper. "Let's get out of here Renji-kun, lets stop bothering the others."
Renji hesitated. For a moment, he considered brushing her off like he had so many other times. But there was something in her expression that made it impossible.
With a reluctant sigh, he handed Watanabe the bills for the cut. "Guess I don't have much of a choice, do I?"
Watanabe smirked knowlingly as he tucked the money away. "Smart kid. Better to lose a fight to Emi than start one."
"Butt out, Dad!" Emi groaned, but the corners of her mouth betrayed a smile.
Emi pushed the shop door open, and a cool draft slipped in with her, ruffling the loose strands of Renji's freshly cut hair. He tugged his blazer a little tighter around himself.
Outside, the streets were lively beneath a pale sky, the air crisp and edged with a chill that clung to Renji's body.
Breathing in deeply, Emi noted the smell. "Ahh, Tokyo air. Always smells like exhaust and roasted chestnuts."
Renji shoved his hands into his pockets. "That's a weird combination."
"Not wrong though, is it?" she grinned, nudging his shoulder as they fell into step.
Renji didn't answer. His gaze drifted to the passing crowds, students with shopping bags, workers rushing home, and families lingering around food stalls as the glow of the evening lights flickered on.
Emi's smile dimmed as she caught his look. "You really do that a lot, you know."
"What?"
"Looking like you're somewhere else. It's like you're not even here."
Renji clicked his tongue, eyes narrowing forward. "Maybe because I've got a lot things to think about, Emi-san."
"You can drop the honorifics, Renji-kun." Emi replied. "I figure we've known each other long enough."
"I'm like your aunt at this point." She giggled at her own joke.
Renji smirked. "Sure thing, Auntie."
That one word caused her to almost trip over herself.
"Eugh." Emi groaned, but laughter slipped through anyway. "Nevermind. That makes me sound way too old."
—Underground Restaurant, Tokyo—
Making their way inside a small hole in the wall tucked between much larger buildings, Renji and Emi were greeted by the dim hanging lights and cozy music echoing through the restaurant.
There were hanging lanterns everywhere, casting soft glows across the polished wooden tables.
The air carried a comforting mix of soy, garlic, and sizzling oil. Enough to make Renji's stomach tighten in sudden hunger.
"Evening, Sanji-san." Renji greeted the chef who had just walked out of the kitchen.
"Renji!" The chef's face lit up when he saw who was calling him. "It's good to see you."
"It's great to see you too." Renji replied warmly.
Emi looked between the two with a blank expression. Since when did Renji get all chummy with this guy?
Noticing the questioning look on her face, Renji just shrugged. "He's a good chef. Makes better food than most places in Tokyo."
"You flatter me too much," Sanji said with a laugh, brushing his hands on the apron tied around his waist. "But I'll take the compliment. Now, sit anywhere you like. I'll bring you some water."
Renji gave him a small nod of thanks before guiding Emi toward a booth tucked near the back.
Emi leaned forward on her elbows, eyes narrowing at Renji. "Okay, so you're telling me you can barely answer a text or a phone call, but you've got time to make best friends with a chef in the middle of nowhere?"
Renji smiled at Emi's exasperated expression.
"Food's important." He began, "Texts? Not so much."
She groaned in her seat. "You are so frustrating sometimes."
Before she could keep at him, Sanji returned with two glasses of water and a smile that carried the joy of cooking. "I'm guessing you'll take the usual, Renji? And what about you, Miss?"
"What's Renji's usual?" Emi asked, still giving him the stink eye.
"A classic chirashizushi, just like always." Sanji said with a grin. "Fresh fish, perfectly seasoned rice… you know the drill."
Renji sniffed, thinking about the delicious meal he was about to devour. "Yeah, nothing fancy. Just what I like."
Emi raised an eyebrow, leaning back in her seat. "And you're happy with that every single time?"
"Well," Renji started. "Not all the time, but why mess with perfection?"
Sanji laughed, sliding Emi a menu. "Wise words, Renji. And for you?"
Emi glanced down at the menu and after a brief moment, she sighed. "I'll try the salmon teriyaki. I feel like something safe tonight."
"Excellent choice!" Sanji took a mental note of their orders before walking back to the kitchen. "I'll have these right out for you two."
The quiet hum of the restaurant wrapped around them as they waited, the clinking of dishes and soft conversation creating a private bubble as tensions grew.
Emi started by asking Renji how school was going, if he made any new friends, and about his plans for the future. Unsurprisingly, Renji replied in short bursts, often trying to brush things off. Except for when asked about his financial situation.
Contrary to his usual demeanor, Renji replied in a softer tone, reminding her that she didn't need to worry about that. He knew how hard it was for her when Evelyn passed away, and seeing her continue to stay worried for him was a strange feeling.
Fiddling with her hands, Emi dove right into the deep end. "We should talk about your mother, Renji."
She had a resolute look on her face that stopped any quick rebuttal or snarky response. Emi wasn't going to let this go.
"I know you don't want to concern yourself with the past and all that, but I think it's time we did." She said.
Renji let out a deep sigh as he melted into his seat, staring up at the ceiling. "Just hand it over."
"What?" Emi had a surprised look on her face. "How did you—"
"It's my quirk, Auntie." Renji cut her off. "It shouldn't surprise you by now."
She wanted to yell at him for calling her by that moniker again, but stopped herself. It would be rude of her to shout at such a relaxing establishment with other customers in the area.
Relenting, Emi turned to her purse and pulled out a small, smooth case. She carefully placed it on the table in between them and gave Renji a small nod.
Sitting up, Renji grabbed the case and opened it to reveal a sparkling silver earring. One in the shape of a myosotis, or more commonly known as forget-me-nots or scorpian grasses.
He stared intently at it with a thoughtful look. Five long years and these things still come back to haunt me.
"Why did you bring it here?" Renji asked, looking up fron the earring. "I thought I told you to keep it somewhere safe."
Emi's shoulders hunched and her eyes had a tired look that drew Renji's attention. They were the same eyes he remembered, but now they seemed weighed down.
"I know that's what you told me all those years ago, but after thinking it through, it's almost like you didn't ever want to see it again." Emi said.
Looking aside, she struck the final blow. "You ran away."
Staring at Emi, Renji stiffened uncomfortably. For the first time, he really saw her. Not the version he'd clung to in his memories, full of warmth and laughter, but the woman shaped by the years he had missed.
The spark that had always defined her wouldn't ever disappear fully, but it felt different now. Her posture, the weight in her movements, even the faint lines tracing her face all spoke of the pain she had been through.
As much as he didn't want to admit it, Blaze Front really had left their mark. On the city, on the people, and most importantly, on those who had been caught in the crossfire.
A few tears drilled their way down Emi's face as she silently shook. Seeing that, a few of his own threatened to break free.
However, Renji willed his quirk into action and steadied himself before snapping back to reality. To any observer, it seemed like nothing had happened, his eyes were calm and his posture was steady. But in reality, he had taken all the time he needed.
Wiping the stray tears, Emi graciously took the handkerchief from Renji's extended hand.
"Gosh," she laughed softly, a fragile, uneven sound. "I didn't think I had any left in me."
Her smile wavered, and for a brief moment, the bright energy he remembered flickered faintly under the weight of the years. But even in that glimpse, Renji could see the price she paid to keep moving forward.
Renji shut the box and gripped it tightly with a determined look before pocketing it. "Thank you, Emi-san. For keeping it safe for so long, and I'm sorry for leaving the burden with you when it was mine to carry."
"It's fine, Renji." Emi finally said once she calmed down. "You were just a kid, are just a kid. It's okay to let the adults handle things."
"I still shouldn't have burdened you for so long." He responded, his voice quiet but firm. "Even if I was a kid… I should have tried harder. I should have trusted you less to protect me and more to guide me."
Emi's gaze softened, and she gave a small, tired smile. "You've grown a lot, Renji. More than you realize. It's almost like you're older than me."
Renji nodded, letting a fraction of relief wash over him, though the memory of the incident lingered like a shadow he couldn't quite share.
Just as he was about to speak, Sanji waltzed into the booth with two steaming bowls of food.
"Here's your food Renji and friends!" He said while setting the food onto the table. "If you have any problems, I'll be right at the counter over there."
"Thank you," Emi squeaked out after forcefully stifling any errant tears or sniffles.
As Sanji walked away, Renji tried to lighten the mood and change the topic. "Let's focus on the food. Also, I noticed that ring on your finger Emi-san. Since when did Yamamoto-san propose?"
Talking a deep wiff of the food, Emi replied with a laugh. "I know what you're trying to do, but I'll let it slide just once."
"He proposed a few months ago, I had a feeling it was coming." Emi's face brightened as she thought about how Ryuga had proposed under the moonlit sky. "I think he would've done it sooner if I was in a better state at the time."
"Well it's good to see that he followed through." Renji said before beginning to devour his chirashi sushi.
Emi let out an affirmative sound while similarly digging into the salmon teriyaki she ordered.
"Wow this is amazing!" Emi exclaimed after taking her first bite. "I never knew salmon could taste like this."
Renji laughed heartily, "That's what Sanji does to food, Emi-san. It's like an explosion of flavors."
The two fell into a quiet rhythm of chewing and conversation as the night wore on. The low hum of the restaurants ventilation system mingled with the distant chatter of incoming diners. Outside, neon signs flickered intermittently while a cool breeze rustled the leaves on the streets.
In most cases, Renji should have been back to campus an hour or so ago, but the warmth of the room combined with the comforting aroma of simmering seafood made him willing to bend the rules just this once. The clinking of cutlery, the bountiful scent of food in the air, and the subtle background music cocooned the pair in a fleeting moment of normalcy.
—
Exiting the restaurant and waving goodbye to Sanji, Renji and Emi stepped out into the open street, greeted by the cool night air. The city stretched far before them in bright flashes of colors, the occasional rumble of a passing car echoed through the lively streets.
Overhead, a few stars peeked through the gaps between towering buildings, their glow barely holding against the city's lights.
Emi began walking towards the next street, a content smile on her face. "That meal really hit the spot! I haven't had food that good in a while."
Her steps faltered as she glanced at Renji. He had stopped mid-step, staring intently at her. For a heartbeat, it seemed as if time itself held him there.
"Emi-san." Renji said finally, his voice calm and his eyes full of conviction. "You don't have to worry about me. I've got it all under control."
Emi paused for a second, taking in Renji's words before nodding enthusiastically in a warm, resassuring gesture. "I hear you," she said softly, her smile steady and encouraging as her face glowed in the moon's light.