Chapter Text

Aizawa Shota liked to think he didn't have many regrets. And if he could physically count all the things he’d done that he’d ended up regretting, then it was an extra assurance to his first statement. 

And getting wasted on his dead friend's grief and losing his virginity in the process had slithered up to the first rank. 

But that was twelve months ago. And it was fine now. Those moments had long passed, and his emotions were under control, he’d graduated high school just last week and made sure not to touch any sort of alcoholic beverage at the after-party Hizashi had forcefully shoved him into. And he was coping well with the cliche ‘ let bygones be bygones’ bullshit ringing in his head for well over two months after said regretful, wreck of a night. 

But, let bygone be bygones was not applicable in this situation because, well, fuck . 

Because apparently, he had a child at the age of seventeen. 

And the child was sleeping soundly, unlike the jolts of panic coursing through his veins. 

Now, he wasn't gullible enough to believe any child left at his doorstep was going to be his. No. That was plain stupid. But the confirming factor was a letter that came with the baby-containing basket, a piece of paper he had read over three times now.

Dear Shota,

I don't know if you remember me, but I’m the girl who you shared your sob story with and later ended up fucking. And this baby that you got along with this lovely letter is the result of our very passionate night. Due to the scene before you, the conclusion should be obvious; I’m abandoning the child. 

Yes, I know what you’re thinking. I’m a shitty mother, I know . But having that milk-sucking mush-face was not by choice, I’d have aborted it if I could. I was going to shove her off to an orphanage, but turns out, I’m not so shitty after all. I made the effort to find you , her dear papa, and sent her to you. After all, it takes two to tango, and I did my part by carrying her for nine months and tolerating her for two extra months, now you do yours.

I’m a free spirit. I don't want to be shackled by children or relationships or any of that mucky bullshit. But the last time we met, you said you were a hero-in-training and all you heroes are good for is wearing your hearts on your sleeves. I’m sure you’ll take good care of her. Or not. Your fucking choice really, she’s not my responsibility anymore. 

Good luck with parenthood!

With a pinch of love, 

Your baby mama.

(p.s, you can do a DNA test if you don’t believe me, either way, don't toss her back to me!)

He crumpled the letter. The sheer audacity of this woman...

*

When the sun dipped and the sky flushed purple, he didn't exit his apartment to perform his usual patrols. 

(More like he couldn't.)

What would he do to the child he still had yet to confirm was his? What would he do once the child woke up from her slumber? How could he find the mother of this child and sue her till kingdom come? What would he do if the child turned out to be his?

Before his head exploded with the swirling thoughts, he unpocketed his phone and dialed Hizashi. Then Kayama. Both of them should be finishing their patrols and on their way home.

He sighed, dropping his phone on the wooden table, standing up to walk where he kept the basket. To his elevating apprehension, the child was awake . It— she blinked at him, brilliant viridescent eyes focusing on where he was. 

“Don't cry,” he commanded, thinking she was going to, and he hoped she wouldn't. 

He was eighteen and barely started his hero career, he was in no shape or form ready for parenthood. Heck even actual married people weren't ready for parenthood and raised the most dysfunctional little shits, then what was he compared to them? And that was assuming this child was his. He hoped she wasn't so that he could hand her over to the police to find her loony-bin mother and locate her genuine father, or just place her in a nice, homey orphanage. 

Shota continued to watch the baby as if she was a ticking time bomb. And the baby stared back at him with almost bored eyes. Could babies even have bored eyes? 

A knock resounded, shifting his attention from the child before he zoomed to the front door and yanked it open with such force, startling the shit out of the other two behind the door. 

“What’s up with your face, Sho?” Hizashi questioned without missing a beat. 

Kayama tossed her hair behind her and quirked an eyebrow, “What emergency could you possibly have that we had to meet before Friday?”

Shota didn't say anything, ushering them both inside as he promptly stuffed the crumpled paper in Hizashi’s hand. “Some woman left a baby outside my door and I have no idea what to do with it.” 

“What?” 

“.... pftt ”

Kayama bit her cheeks, finding Hizashi’s styled hair more intriguing than Shota’s unamused face. 

“Read that, she left it in the basket along with the child.” he gestured to the crumpled paper in Hizashi’s hand while Kayama spotted the infamous basket. 

Kayama pranced towards the basket, instructing Hizashi to read it out loud. 

Shota felt an oncoming headache as he too, turned to reach where Kayama was. Hizashi shrugged, himself surprised at how calm he was being at the prospect of someone leaving a real, live baby at his insomniac best friend’s house. He smoothed over the creases on the pink paper, clearing his throat before proceeding to read: “ Dear Shota, I don't know if you remember me, but I’m the girl who you shared your sob story with and later ended up fucking — holy cow— Sho, what the fuck am I reading?!”

Shota flinched, his gray eyes finding the green orbs once more, although this time, she was staring at Kayama with the same bored eyes. While Kayama had been enamored by the child for a split second, Hizashi’s zealous letter recitation had her slipping off the sofa which nearly caused the basket to topple along with her, but Shota’s hands secured the child before the basket fell, and Kayama shrieked at the falling basket.

Only when she saw that the baby hadn't taken the fall did her head whip at the letter Hizashi was withholding, his eyes practically bulging out of his yellow goggles. 

*

“Let me get this straight.” Kayama said, “You fucked someone, and this lunatic lady somehow found your address, parceled a goddamn baby with a letter that says she’s abandoning the child to you because you’re the papa and she’s irresponsible as fuck. And you’re not sure if the baby is yours , but you remember rolling in the bed with someone twelve months ago?”

“Vaguely, yes,” Shota answered calmly, his hand still awkwardly holding the child. 

“Shota,” Kayama pressed, running a hand through her dark purple hair, “I have no words to comfort you. Seriously, dude, you're what? Eighteen? If the DNA results come out positive, then you're fucked.” 

“That’s reassuring.” he leaned back on the sofa.

“Did it ever cross your mind to use protection ?” Kayama egged on, “Or, I don’t know , take one of your friends down to where ever you were going so that we could watch over you from doing anything stupid —”

“That’s enough.” Hizashi cut in, still staring down at the most impetuous piece of letter he had ever read, “You can’t change what’s already been done. The only thing we can do is give this child a better home.” 

Kayama snorted, eyes wandering to Shota’s awkward hold on the child, “You’re speaking as if you’re sure that she isn't Sho’s kid.” 

Hizashi looked up, meeting Shota’s tired gaze with solemn eyes, “Be honest, if she does turn out to be your kid, can you guarantee a healthy environment for her to grow up in? Can you handle the extra workload of looking after a baby during the day and doing your job as a hero in the night? Can you clean up after a child when you can barely clean this place? Babies are high maintenance, you know? They cry they shit as soon as they eat, diapers, clothes, doctor visits, you think you can handle that when you’re like the least maintenance needing person I know?” he sighed deeply, “Do you, yourself, think you’re capable of looking after a kid, Sho? Answer me honestly.” 

“...no.” 

Hizashi smiled sadly, “Then you know what to do.” 

*

The wind flapped around at him harshly, pushing his capture weapon against his nape while his hair rose as if his quirk was activated. 

Then you know what to do.

He didn't know what to do. 

Hizashi was being pragmatic, slapping all the facts on his face and listing reasons why he couldn't raise a kid. And he appreciated his friend for that. But if there was an off chance the child was his , and he had just let the kid go because he couldn't raise her— which was sort of a valid reason because why make the child suffer when she could live a much happier life?

Still, it didn't feel right to give her away. Not when she might be his. Not when there was a ninety-nine percent chance that it was his.

He understood the effects of a soulless childhood. And god forbid, he would never subject a similar experience to his kid, but still. 

…... I’m sure you’ll take good care of her. Or not. Your fucking choice really, she’s not my responsibility anymore. 

…....I’d have aborted it if I could. I was going to shove her off to an orphanage, but turns out, I’m not so shitty after all. I made the effort to find you, her dear Papa,  

His chest tightened as he jumped to the garbage dump below, the lid rattling under his weight. 

She’s not my responsibility anymore. 

Then she was supposed to be his responsibility? Him? Eighteen-year-old Aizawa Shota struggled to feed himself properly. 

I’d have aborted her (you) if I could

That’s exactly what his mother sneered at him before leaving for work. 

Shove her off to an orphanage,

Such a cruel thing to say to a child. 

Her dear papa

Him . 

Shota broke into a run, exiting the narrow alley as his blood thrummed. He wasn't the father. He wasn't the father. He wasn't the father. He wasn't the father—

Not until the test proved it. 

*

Shota strolled into his apartment at sharp twelve, a large bag hanging off his right arm as he tugged his silver goggles under his capture weapon. 

Hizashi was dozing on the single sofa with his mouth open, his grating snores resounding in the living room while Kayama was beside the basket, the child resting on her chest and an empty bottle hanging off her right hand.

The first thing he did was set down the bag filled with random baby products he bought on the kitchen counter, then stalked over to Kayama to retrieve the kid and put her back in the basket. And behold , the child was stark awake, looming at him with those green eyes that seemed too unsettling on a child. 

"What're you awake for?"

The kid blinked, opening her mouth as if to talk, but all that escaped was deflated babble, then her light brows furrowed, in concentration or anger, he couldn't tell, but it was the first expression she made other than that bored one she wore.

He found it amusing. 

Then a 'poof' echoed and he stifled a laugh. 

"Well, that smells lovely."

The child looked close to crying, cheeks puffed and eyes angry. So much emotion packed in a two-month-old child's face, it was almost surreal. He placed her close to his chest and picked up the supplies he bought before walking over to his room to somehow change her nappy. 

The body was so light and thin, with barely anything on her bones except for the little fat on her cheeks. Just what did that woman feed her? He lifted one foot and wiped the tiny butt all the while the child tried to kick up a fuss. 

"I'm trying to clean you." he stated the obvious, "So stay still, alright?" 

Not alright at all. She seemed to get more aggressive at his words, kicking at his hands and grumbling wildly, but never crying. Finally, having enough of the nasty smell evading his nose, he grabbed hold of her tiny feet that perfectly fit in one palm and lifted her gently to get the task over with. 

She calmed down after that, although glaring at him. He ignored it, reaching for a fresh nappy. After tossing the stained one she wore in the bin, he dressed her in a simple green onesie. He contemplated doing the same for the blanket she was smothered in, but it looked relatively new, so he hauled it in his overflowing laundry basket and wrapped her in a cat-eared blanket, then placed her on his bed with the right amount of barricade pillows. 

He knew his qualifications for taking care of a child were shit. He was well aware of that. But he at least had the right to know whether this kid was his or not before giving her away, right? Hizashi wasn't too keen on that idea, but Kayama seemed to be on board despite her incensed sarcasm. Hence why they agreed to babysit her till he came back. 

Either way, she was going to be sent to a ' better ' home to live a much better life and this chapter of his life was going to close forever. 

Yeah, It was— ' Hnnngg !'

He peered down at the noise. 

'Hnnnngh!' she was kicking his thighs despite the wrap she was in, eyes watery once more, but the look in her eyes was unadulterated frustration. 

Impressive. 

"....are you takin' a shit again?" 

She screamed this time, her fisted hands moving frantically as if hoping to punch him. 

What is it that kids did? They shat, screamed, cried, laughed, slept, and ate— ah.

"Alright, just don't cry." he attempted to comfort her, lifting the weight-less child from the barricade he created as he exited the room with the milk formula he purchased, snagging the empty bottle from Kayama and stirring her awake. 

"...Sho? You're here?" she grumbled, rubbing at her eyes, yawning. "Wha' time iszit'? I think I'm goin' to crash 'ere for the— THE BABY! THE BABY'S MISSING!"

Hizashi slid from the sofa he was slumbering on, head shaking at the commotion as he tried to make sense of what was happening. Shota rolled his eyes, "She’s with me."

"Dude, when'd you get home?" Hizashi asked hoarsely, peering at his friend while Shota sacked the child on him and wandered off to the kitchen. He climbed back on the sofa, his hold a little clumsy on the weightless bundle and Kayama was already curling on the two-seated sofa to continue her slumber. 

Shota didn't answer, shrugging at the question as he washed the bottle, then washed it once more with hot water before adding the formula and shaking it to the point of foam rising. He trusted the bottle at Hizashi’s waiting hands and sat on the wooden coffee table, observing the kid's actions with critical eyes. 

"I have an early morning shift tomorrow, so I won't be able to go with you to the hospital, neither can Kayama. You sure you're going to be alright?" 

Shota scoffed, "I'm not a kid." 

Hizashi shrugged, "That's fine." For a while, the faint sound of suckling was all that was heard before the blond let out a deep sigh, "You know, I think I already know how this is going to play out." 

"What?" 

"Never mind." 

*

Shota was having a crisis. 

And his crisis was blaring in all directions. 

First was the DNA test, which was only a fifteen-minute process. And it was a match . No surprise there. 

No, what came after that was more gear-grinding. 

So he sat in the hospital cafeteria, one hand resting on the carrier on his chest and the other hand twirling a pen, deeply submerged in his thoughts to think of a name . The kid was going to need her official documents in check if she was going to be sent to a ‘better’ home, not to mention all the vaccines the damnable woman probably forgot to get the kid with her irresponsible stature in full swing. He seriously doubted where this kid was born too, what kind of fuck up medical establishments didn't procure documents of birth? Illegal ones. 

Or there was a chance that she did give birth to the kid normally and secured all legal documents and just chose not to give it to him because it would lead him right to her. If she wasn’t dumb enough to get caught by the cameras near his apartment, then the former possibility wasn't too far off the mark. 

Estimating her birth date was a little tricky when the woman gave him only vague facts to work with, but he could narrow it down to someday in January. So he wrote down the twenty-ninth as the final day, time could be made up easily, and one of the parents' names was left vacant, but her name was.

The name was on a national level difficulty. 

His thought process was interrupted when he felt tiny thumps against his chest. She was staring again. “Hungry?” and he didn't need a reply to start making a new bottle. 

He watched as she suckled the bottle with a conflicted gaze. The matter of the name didn't even need to be serious. The people who were supposedly going to give her a ‘better’ home were going to rename her anyways, there was no use in pondering over it this much. He sighed deeply. “You know what? I’m going to name you the first thing that comes to mind.” And he took a deep breath, mentally shuffling his brain as the suckling sound barely made it into his ears. He shut his eyes and clenched his teeth, shaking his head and probably looking like a lunatic, but when he opened his eyes and peered down at the kid’s bright, always angry eyes, a name clicked in his mind.

“Asuka.” he said, “ Aizawa Asuka .” he tested, blinking at the kid. And of course, the odd kid looked at him, slightly astounding him when her gaze wasn't bored or irate, just in slight awe ?... or he might’ve read into it too much. 

Either way, for the rest of the hospital trip, she didn't glare at him or look at him like he was the scum of the earth— except for when he tried cleaning after her excretion. 

It was three thirty-two in the afternoon when he finally escaped the hospital with the paperwork, kid— Asuka’s overdue check up which resulted in the pediatrician threatening him to oversee the kid’s health properly or he was going to call child services. Well, it wasn't the doctor's exact words, but it implied all the same. Necessary vaccine shots were given along with a little rattle to distract Asuka from the pain. Not that the kid needed that, she was practically asleep when it happened anyways. 

They strolled along the crowded pavement, heading towards his apartment to rest up for a few hours before his shift started. But then Asuka started giggling and he almost crashed into a pole. 

Evidently, the consistently foul-mood child’s source of happiness was Kamihara Shinya, his classmate, more avidly known as Pro Hero Edgeshot. She was squealing now, fist waving from the pure excitement of witnessing Edgeshot. And the man wasn't even doing anything, he was just walking.

Still, it was a rare occurrence for him that she was this happy. So he did what he thought every Temporary Father who was going to give up his daughter for adoption solely because he wasn't qualified to raise her— he strode up to the hero and greeted him. 

“Aizawa,” Shinya said, bobbing his head as he acknowledged his classmate. 

“Kamihara.” Shota parroted, wondering what else he was supposed to say. Turns out, he didn't need to say anything because Asuka had taken the liberty to tug on the hero’s red scarf, babbling zealously in baby speech as Shinya blinked in surprise. 

“Your sister?” Shinya questioned, genuinely bemused at the cheerful child. 

“Daughter, actually.” he countered, trying his best to swallow the defensiveness in his tone. A daughter he was soon going part with so that she could be with a ‘better’ family. 

“Oh,” his astonishment was clear, “Daughter.” Shinya repeated dumbly, “She’s…cute.” he recovered, slightly bending his posture so that he could meet the child’s eyes. 

“Well, I won’t be taking too much of your time since you're on your patrol,” Shota said, reaching for his pocket to retrieve his phone, “but can you take a picture with her? She seems to like you. Or your costume. Whichever, really.” and he wiggled Asuka out of the carrier as he handed the befuddled hero the two-month-old child, “Watch out for the head.” he reminded, taking a step back as he focused the camera. When he clicked enough pictures, none of which Asuka was motionless, he slipped back his phone before promptly taking Asuka, waving his dazed classmate goodbye. 

*

Later, he didn't detour to the apartment like he initially planned, but wandered off to the beach. 

He clipped the carrier from his shoulder and heaved the girl out with no effort before taking off the carrier completely, and discarded it on top of the baby bag. Then he sat her down on his thigh, safely tucking her in his arm, careful to support her head.

Asuka was staring again, green eyes glimmering from the sun resting on the horizon. “You don’t seem like a normal baby,” he pronounced lightly. 

Her reaction was what he wasn't expecting. 

A smile. 

She seemed to be doing that a lot in the past fifteen minutes. 

“Look, Asuka , I know you won’t remember or process anything I’m about to say, but this will be the only time I can spend time with you before you're sent to a ‘better’ home.” she blinked, head lolling to the side and his hand reflexively went to the tuft of black hair on her head, fixing his posture so that she wouldn't droop to a side. “I’m…eighteen, turning nineteen this year. And as harsh as this sounds, you were a mistake.” he caressed the fluffy hair on her head absent-mindedly, his lips tugged in a wry smile.

“But still, I’d like to apologize. You didn't ask to be born, and you didn't have a choice in getting such a devilishly irresponsible mama or a severely under-qualified papa .” he traced the lining of her brows and brushed the hair on her forehead with his thumb, “I’m sorry, Asuka. I’m sorry that you have terrible parents. But you deserve better, and that’s why I'm putting you up for adoption.” Asuka’s fingers clamped around the side of his palm and he smiled amusedly, she probably didn't like him being so touchy. 

“Don't worry about being hauled off to another dump. I’ll make sure to review the list of guardians myself. It’s the least I could do for leaving you with your mother for two months.” he blinked to clear his eyes, thinking he was hallucinating when he witnessed Asuka's lips wobble. “—are you going to cry?” he panicked internally, pulling his hand away. Did she hate being touched this much? He watched cautiously as her eyes glazed with unshed tears, “Sorry.” he mumbled, patting her chest to calm her down. “Sorry.” 

The two-month-old burst into tears for the first time since appearing at his doorsteps, her tiny mouth producing such shrieks that the elderly couple walking along the shore whipped their heads at him. Shota cursed under his breath, simultaneously trying to position her head on his shoulder in an attempt to imitate the actions of a woman he saw at the hospital who calmed their child fairly easily. But Asuka didn't allow him to position her, fisting her hands on his shirt and burying her head into the junction of his arm. 

“Asuka, please stop crying.” he attempted pathetically. “..I will do anything, just stop crying, please .”

“Oh my,” the old woman trudged towards him, “Is she alright? She’s crying quite frightfully.” 

Shota smiled awkwardly, “She was fine moments ago, but…” he trailed off, the scene of Asuka grasping onto him perfectly explaining his situation. 

“Would you mind if I tried?” the old lady asked, her hands extending before he agreed. Not that he minded. Anything to calm Asuka. 

It wasn't fine for Asuka because her crying turned up a notch, and the hold on his shirt tightened when the old lady tried to take her from him. And when she tugged the small, weightless body, Shota almost slipped his footing on the sand. He didn't know who was stronger, Asuka or the lady trying to help.

“Seems like she’s quite attached to you.” the lady pointed out.

He blinked. Was that meant to be a pun?

Fortunately, Asuka’s crying lessened when he initiated contact with her black fluff of hair, though the death grip was still on his shirt as her head lolled to the side once more. This time, he swallowed his amusement when she proceeded to glare at the old lady. She didn't appear to mind it, waving at Asuka with a good-natured smile before joining her husband. 

He took a seat on the sand once more, settling her on his thighs before rummaging into the bag to haul out the wet tissues. “That’s one heck of a scare you gave me there,” he murmured, cleaning the tear tracks as she snuggled into his side more, her watery eyes magnifying the vibrance of her emerald orbs, and warmth bloomed in his chest, fuzzy and light as he warned of the temptation to—

No, he couldn't afford this feeling. Not when he knew the consequences.

When he wiped the snot from her red nose, she caught his palm once more. This time, he didn't pull back. 

This time, Asuka brought it closer to her cheeks, almost as if trying to hug him. 

This time , Shota couldn't help but break into a smile. 

*

“....You bought a cot.” 

“Yes.” 

Hizashi sighed, slumping on the single sofa and Kayama followed suit, taking her place on the two-seated one next to Shota who was pulling on his boots. “Am I imagining things or is this kid smiling?” Kayama queried, critically observing the child who seemed to be holding a rattle, her green eyes focused on the array of toys hanging above her. 

Shota said nothing, taking his knife out of the holster as he cleaned it with a beige cloth. 

“She’s not the only one in a good mood.” Hizashi enunciated, reaching for the file on the wooden table. 

Shota skilfully ignored that comment as well.  

“A match, huh?” Hizashi drawled, “Well, this was expected. And look , you went ahead and named her too.” 

Shota rolled his eyes, “How else was I supposed to get her vaccinated?” 

“Aizawa Asuka’s a good name.” Hizashi said instead, nodding promptly. 

Kayama snorted loudly, “Yeah, thank god he didn't name her anything like ‘Smartass’ or ‘Fishbait’ or 'Prickface' . Good job on the naming, Sho.” 

“Smart-ass, Fishbait, and Prick face are perfectly fine names,” Shota grumbled, exiting his apartment to start his patrols. 

He continued on his usual path, sticking by the shadows and maneuvering into places for crimes to likely occur. His thoughts, though, were dedicated to something else entirely. Hizashi and Kayama had taken it upon themselves to look for suitable candidates and they hadn't bought any for him yet, they were busy people too. Hizashi and Kayama ran their start-up agency with only a few people to help them. Not to mention all the extra workload they didn't want to quit, with Hizashi’s radio show and Kayama’s modeling gigs, they were buried head-deep into work. 

Maybe they’d take a lot more time in finding a suitable candidate for Asuka—

“—you said you wouldn't do it!” 

“And I won’t ! I seriously won’t, Miko, so come back to me, alright? I was just really angry then— I wasn't thinking straight, you know how I get when I’m angry. Just, please , come back, I can’t cope without you and Aoi.” 

A lover’s spat, he observed. Or something more than that. He balanced on a balcony railing, watching the man and woman. The woman seemed to be on edge, her reddish-brown hair flaring at short intervals. And the man had horns sprouting from his forehead, his hands going wildly as he raved about not doing something anymore. 

“You won’t change.” the woman trembled out shakily, stepping back as she did so, “Time and time again, you keep saying the same thing, repeating the same bullshit about not doing it and you turn around and do the exact thing you promised not to do. I have my limits, Itone, I can’t handle you , your anger , your violence— Aoi and I deserve better than your scum ass—”

Shota moved, hauling his capture weapon at the raised fist, and secured the man scum named Itone. “That’s enough.” 

“Who the fuck are you?!” 

He jumped in the middle, throwing a punch that resulted in the Man scum landing on the floor. “Are you alright, Ma'am?” he questioned gently, tightening his wraps to the point where Itone started wiggling. 

“A-ah, yes, I’m a-alright,” she stuttered out, “thank you for your help.” 

He nodded promptly, dialing the police with his unoccupied hand.

“Are you Miko’s new lover?! You bitch! I knew you were cheating on me—” and his capture weapon bound his mouth.

Later when Itone was taken away, Shota offered to escort her to the Night care she was initially going to before being held up by her ex-husband solely because the woman was still trembling. 

“Um, you don't have to walk me all the way there.” she offered shakily. Shota wondered if she was reeling from the punch she nearly received or was just naturally nervous. Probably a bit of both. 

“It’s no problem,” he replied simply. And it wasn't. He had to patrol the area anyway. 

She chuckled nervously, “Then I’ll warn you, Eraserhead-san, my son’s a hero fanatic, he might just jump on you if he sees you beside me.” 

He doubted that. Underground heroes were rarely someone's favorite. 

“Itone…” she started, looking straight ahead, “he’s not going to serve any jail time, is he? He always gets out on bail because of his family.” 

Shota exhaled into his weapon bindings, scanning his brain for words to comfort the woman. He came up blank.

“And his family hates me. I don’t come from money, you know? I can’t even say meeting him was the worst thing that ever happened to me because Aoi wouldn't be here if not for him—” she sniffed and Shota tensed. “ Four years, four years I put up with him , his harsh words, violent beatings, all because I thought that one day , one day he was going to change and we could be a happy family — then he hit Aoi for the first time and I couldn't t-take it anymore.” She was full-on sobbing now and Shota dug into his pockets hoping something bearing semblance to a tissue would apparate. And behold, the wet tissue which wasn't wet anymore that he had used to wipe Asuka’s snot and tears was right there, though it was a little crusty

He offered it and she took it, mumbling a short thanks. 

“I’m sorry for burdening you with my problems— it sort of just spilled out. ” Alarmingly, she started to sob again. “He w-wouldn't leave us alone that.. that a-annoying piece of shit. I can’t even do my job right, Eraserhead-san, I can’t handle people talking to me loudly, and I flinch every time my boss tries to relay his feedback on my reports because he uses a lot of ha-hand languages when he t-talks— and I’m so pathetic for making him feel bad, the poor man’s been s-so nice to me and- and I just react l-like that —” 

She blew her nose blaringly, “And Aoi, my baby boy, he’s such a sweet thing really, h-he’s the only thing that keeps me going these days and I-I can’t even spend some quality time with h-him with my ex-in-laws complaining about giving his custody to them— like hell I’m doing that!” he was silently cheering for her at this point, “The court c-case is still on-going, and Itone's not supposed to approach me or have a-any direct contact with m-me until the final verdict is announced.” 

She looked at him for the first time since she started speaking, gray eyes red from crying as her hair continued to flare at an alarming rate, “But I’m sure I’m going to win. I got lucky with a good lawyer, you see, he's handling this case pro bono, a-and I’m the happiest I’ve been in a long time.”

This was his cue to say something inspirational, wasn't it? What could he say? What would Hizashi say?— Hizashi would sob along with her . Then what would Kayama say? No, Kayama would be much worse. Itone might even be found with an incapacitated dick with her in the mixture. 

“That is amazing, Ma'am.” he decided. 

“Miko.” she said hoarsely, “Ma'am feels old.”  

“Miko-san.” he corrected, “You’re an amazing Okaa-san,” he added. And she was . To hold out for so long only to break free from those shackles because her son had been hurt. She was a hundred times better than his mother, or Asuka’s mother. He unpocketed his phone and asked for her number. 

“I have a good therapist and I thought you’d probably need something to help with your trauma. It’s best to get it treated before it gets worse,”  he explained before she could jump to conclusions.

And for a moment he thought he might’ve fucked up, but she spoke and said nothing advocating that he was a creep. “Thank you,” she said, her hair resting on her shoulder instead of aviating. “You’re very kind, Eraserhead-san, I’m sure your child must be happy to have an Otou-san like you.” 

He froze, what the—

Then he heard an onslaught of apologies , “—I didn't mean to come off as a creep or anything, it’s just, I have a sensitive nose, and your smell is mixed with milk powder and baby cologne and I just assumed… ” she trailed off, looking sheepish.

“It's fine, Miko-san.” Shota said. He didn't even know he smelt like that. Was that why that cat officer stared at him like some foreign species? Still, to think someone would say he was a good father was alarming all the same. 

She recovered sooner than he expected. “Kids are a handful, you know? My Aoi, he’s so active that if I take my eyes off him for two minutes, he’d be dumping his toys in the toilet or emptying a whole bottle of detergent on the sofa.” a chuckle escaped her, and he winced. That was a shit ton of cleaning Miko-san had to commit herself to. “and when he learned how to open doors— Kami that child gave me so many heart attacks, I caught him leaving the house on several occasions— and there was also one time I found a packet of boneless chicken under my pillow." her hair flared lightly and he was thinking maybe her breathing and hair were connected in some ways. 

"But he's easier to handle now that he's four." a fond smile adorned her face, then she looked at him with knowing eyes, and he almost stiffened, "It gets easier with time." 

Yeah, only if he was going to raise the kid.

But he wasn't. Someone else was. 

Someone else is going to give Asuka everything like Miko-san gave Aoi. 

He didn't need to reciprocate because the night care came into view, its bold letters illuminating with rainbow fairy lights. Near the glass door was a woman greeting another woman and when the former caught sight of Miko, she offered her a smile too. 

“Aoi! Your Okaa-san’s here!” she hollered, peering over her back, “And tell Rui-obaachan that Izuku’s Okaa-san’s here too!” The woman with the mighty voice turned to them once more, wearing an apologetic smile as she clutched both her hands in front of her.

“Was Aoi well-behaved?” Miko-san asked, somehow appearing even more apologetic. 

“Oh yes, absolutely .” the woman said, then her gaze flickered to Shota behind her and beamed in a way that made chills go down his spine. “ Oh ? Who might you be, Sir? A potential customer? Did Miko-chan tell you about this place?”

“...."

“Eraserhead-san might be a potential customer, yes,” Miko-san simpered, and he stopped himself from reeling. “Unfortunately, I didn't poach him.” 

“Oh?” the woman repeated, orange eyes glinting, “A pro hero, huh? We don't get many of those around here, but you’re always welcome! We open at six in the evening and close in the morning, and you don't have to worry about our caretakers dozing or slacking off at their jobs, they’re highly skilled in caring for children; newborns, toddlers, and preschoolers. Here, at Tulip Night Care, we’re experienced and equipped with dealing with any kind of child thrown our way! As for safety—”

“Mama!” a blue blur dashed out of the excessively lit establishment, crashing into Miko-san and hugging her legs, “You’re late!” 

Shota was just glad the advertisement was over. 

“What’d I say about running, Aoi-chan?” a short woman lumbered out next, silver hair pulled back into a messy bun as it revealed her strikingly heavy-bagged eyes. She was carrying a child who was stuck at her hips, a head full of messy green hair snuggled into the junction of her neck, her gaze briefly shot to Shota before focusing on the other woman. “Sorry for the wait, Inko-chan, ‘zuku was hard to wake up.” 

Inko waved it off, reaching for her kid while he readily slouched into his mother’s embrace. Shota watched as she ruffled the kid’s unruly hair and hugged the boy, and he watched more , almost a ghost smile stretching on his face as the kid hugged back despite his sleepy stature. 

“A new customer?” a voice interrupted, snapping him out of his thoughts. It was the silver-haired woman speaking this time.

“Maybe,” he answered this time, Kayama and Hizashi could catch a break if he could find someone else to babysit Asuka. 

Later, when he escorted both mother and son to their house, the thread in his mind that revolved around providing a ‘better’ home for Asuka loosened imperceptibly. 

*

The orange-eyed woman was named Sato Yumena and the silver-haired one was Nakamura Utano. The former one was gleaming, and the latter was more interested in Asuka who was in his arms, sucking her sky-blue pacifier while tugging at his shoulder-length hair. 

“You’re one of those teenage parents, aren't ya?” Utano drawled out, metaphorically poking his eyes with the pen she was hovering over the clipboard. 

Yumena stabbed an elbow into the other woman while bumbling out a sorry.

“If I am,” Shota said calmly, “would that be a problem?” 

Utano snorted, evidently not affected by the brutal elbow stab he witnessed, “‘Course not, Hero—”

“Aizawa Shota,” he corrected, his head slightly tilted due to Asuka’s grip, “I’m off duty.” 

“Well then, ‘course not, Shota-kun. ” she repeated mirthfully, writing down on the board without moving her charcoal orbs from him, “Do ya know how many teenage parents leave their kids ‘ere? I’ll tell ya; more than the married ones.” 

“That’s right, we don't judge.” Yumena chuckled, “We only want your kid.” 

That sounded so sinister that even Asuka’s hold on his hair seemed to loosen. 

“What ‘ena means is that we want what’s best for the kids.” Utano rephrased, “So? Are ya in or not?” she jutted the clipboard at him, pen tapping at the place to sign. 

He signed with no hesitation. 

Later that afternoon when he texted Kayama and Hizashi that their services won't be needed, he received a lot more backlash than anticipated. 

*

"Sho, you can't keep doing this." Hizashi gritted out, hand on his hip and brows furrowed to the point that his glasses were falling off his nose. 

Kayama bit her fist from laughing, the shaking of her shoulder intensifying as Shota threw another file into the three-foot pile of files. 

"If they don't fit my criteria, then yes, I can." 

Asuka's rattle echoed and Hizashi appeared close to banging his head onto the nearest pole, "And what exactly are your criteria?" 

Shota gave him a pointed look, "You expect me to toss her back to the same hellhole she escaped from?" 

" Sho , my dude," Hizashi cried, " none of these people are going to be like her shitty Okaa-san— their files made it here because they want a child." 

"And I suppose you just want me to believe everything on these papers?" 

Kayama slipped from her chair, and Hizashi turned around from his best friend's bored face to look at Asuka, his blood pressure rising at an alarming rate. 

"Sho, it's been a month since 'suka-chan was left here," Kayama drawled amusedly, "you might as well admit that you don't want to give her up for adoption." 

Shota pretended not to hear, finding the file in his hand very intriguing. 

“I mean, that works too, if he’s willing to admit it,” Hizashi said, prodding at Asuka’s cheeks. Asuka in return, swatted his hand, vehemently waving her rattle while a familiar glare settled on her face. 

“The Suzuki’s look like a good candidate,” Shota pronounced, “but they already have five children so maybe not,” he murmured, hauling the file to join the others as he grabbed another from the deflated pile beside him. 

Kayama snorted, “You just broke him, ‘zashi.” 

*

In month four, Kayama and Hizashi sparsely brought in new candidates with the excuse of their bustling agency. And was pleasantly surprised at the news of Shota going to meet Asuka’s potential parents-to-be, so much so that they sneaked into the diner Shota was appointed to meet them with their best disguises on. 

“This is a miracle.” Kayama whispered behind the menu, “It’s a fucking miracle— he’s going to part with Asuka.” eyes peaked at an unusually formally dressed Shota, face cleanly shaved and hair pulled back into a tiny ponytail. 

“Wouldn't get my hopes up if I were you,” Hizashi whispered back, miserably failing at tucking back his blonde hair into the green wig, “he might be doing this to mess with us.”

“I don't think he’d dress up that nice just to mess us.” 

“You underestimate his pettiness.” 

Then they watch as a couple who radiated ‘elegance’ in every aspect join the table as Shota greeted them with the same sincerity. 

“We’re so happy that you called, Aizawa-san, we saw Asuka-chan’s profile and were smitten.” the elegant lady gushed. 

The man flashed a billion-dollar smile, “Yes, we’re so happy that you considered us worthy of parenting Asuka-chan. We won’t disappoint your trust, Aizawa-san.”

The couple’s head dipped at a neutral-faced Shota and the two friends just knew that something was severely wrong with the whole setting. 

“Yes, before that,” Shota said, and both Kayama and Hizashi missed the next few words because a chirpy waiter barreled in front of them, asking if they were ready to order, Kayama brushed the girl off with two simple meals of fish and chips and was close to using her quirk when the waiter asked for drinks. 

Though when the waiter shooed away, the scene in front of them was baffling. 

“You… you… you do realize what adoption means, right? Aizawa-san?” the woman was stuttering out, appearing quite incensed. “It means we are going to be Asuka-chan’s legal parents and you don't have a say in how we decide to raise the child.” 

“Yes, I am very much aware of what adoption means.” Shota drawled out, “But if you can’t accept these conditions, then I’m afraid this topic isn't up for discussion anymore.” 

“These conditions are outrageous .” the man seethed next. “We can’t possibly prevent minor injuries children are going to have during playtime, nor can we block every harsh thing this world has to offer— just what were you on when you made this contract?!” 

Kayama snorted so hard that she had to look away from the man’s flaring nostrils. Hizashi’s lips stretched in a grin, throwing a told-you-so at Kayama as she tried to recover from her laughter. 

There was no way Asuka was going to be adopted. No way Shota was ever letting her go. And the two friends were aware of that fact ever since they witnessed Shota kissing the girl’s forehead when she was sound asleep. 

They still didn't know why Shota was so insistent on finding a better home for Asuka when she was already home. 

The changes in Shota were so drastic in the last few months. Not to mention the dump of an apartment he was accommodating took the most prominent blow. Every time Kayama and Hizashi came over the weekends, something new was always present in the apartment. It may be a bottle sterilizer on the kitchen counter, a bouncer chair, a stroller— heck that was nothing compared to the storm that conjured up in his room. A whole new wardrobe was dedicated to Asuka’s belongings, a smaller laundry basket was next to his not-so-anymore overflowing laundry basket, his dresser barely held anything other than the rare perfume he used, and the aftershave was now filled with ranges of baby cologne, baby lotion, baby oil, baby wipes, baby powder and anything useful for a baby . 

The first time Kayama had got into his room to use the bathroom, she almost tripped over her feet from how clean it was, and only due to her bursting bladder did she prevent herself from showing Hizashi the scene right then and there. But later when she entered the spacious bathroom, she did slip over a yellow duck near a damn baby bathtub. 

They watched with glimmering eyes as the elegant couple strutted out of the diner and Shota appeared relatively bland before referring to a waiter. Then he promptly stood up, walking in their direction as they both stiffened. 

“If you both ever get a job that entails intelligence gathering, then don't accept it for the sake of our country.” Shota voiced, correspondingly loosening his tie and popping off the collar button.

Kayama licked her lips, “Can I just say that looked hot as fuck?” 

Hizashi guffawed, tugging off his wig, and hauling it to the seat beside him. 

Shota sighed, joining their table with an incoherent grumble.

*

On Friday noon, Shota was vacuuming the fluffy silver carpet, five-month-old Asuka was in his room, blissfully asleep, Hizashi was in the kitchen prepping for lunch, and Kayama was desperately trying to open a can from the wrong side. 

When the vacuum echo stopped, Shota could hear Hizashi reprimanding the R-rated hero over having common sense, and the baby monitor grumbled, informing him that Asuka was no longer asleep. 

Asuka was staring again, vastly different from before, and not at all like he was the scum of the earth. “Let’s get some food in you,” he mumbled, picking her up as her head lolled on his shoulders, yawning. 

“— dude! How hard is it for you to open a damn can?! You pull this part,” Hizashi yelled, demonstrating aggressively. 

“I know how to open a damn can, you damn cockatoo!” 

“Yes, because stabbing the wrong side with a fucking butter knife is the way to go!” 

“You know I can’t cook shit!” 

“Damn right, you can’t.” Shota interrupted, evidently having enough, “So feed Asuka instead.”  

Hizashi snorted, “Try not to mix her formula with a butter knife.” he mocked. And Kayama threw the knife at him to which Hizashi squealed, narrowly dodging it. 

Then it happened. 

And it happened right when Hizashi picked up his chopsticks, Kayama secured Asuka on the bouncer and took her seat, and just as Shota was done taking off his apron— a simple knock echoed is what happened. 

"Who's that?" Hizashi queried.

"Better not be one of your mails," Shota grunted, eyeing Kayama for a brief moment before tossing his apron on the counter. 

"Hey! I spent more time here than my house, you know?" Kayama yelled behind him. 

"Yes, and that justifies why it's sent here." Hizashi mocked. 

Kayama turned up her nose at him and Shota's cold voice echoed, "Why are you here?" 

"Nice to see you still don't have manners." A woman's voice resounded. 

Kayama and Hizashi threw a curious glance in the direction of the voice only to witness a woman step into the house, trying to brush past Shota, and Shota in return, jolted away from her shoulder with such contempt in his face that it was unnerving. 

"So this is where you were living?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at the state of the house and regarding the people with a short nod. Kayama and Hizashi had no idea who she was, but she was older than them so they dipped their heads respectfully. 

"How did you find this place?" Shota asked again, his hair tips flaring despite his quirk being inactive, Hizashi and Kayama didn't think that was a good sign. 

She turned to him, cool blue eyes simply blinking at the disdain directed at her, “My new job.” she answered vaguely, “You never showed up at the house after graduation, Shota.” 

“Yeah?” Shota said, smiling wryly, “Didn't think you’d notice, Kaa-san .” 

...damn

“Of course, I noticed. ” she replied, appearing peeved, “Just what do you take me for?... I’ve been worried about you.” her grip on the handbag tightened, but Shota was too incensed to notice the minuscule details. 

The underground hero snorted, “I hadn't been living in that house ever since my third year. It’s going to be a year now, you honestly want me to believe you’re here out of concern ?” 

“Everything I’ve done was for you ,” she said slowly. And Shota’s heart raged. She was using that tone again. That manipulative, shitty tone he despised with every inch of his life. 

Yes, neglecting him for her job was for him. Verbally abusing him whenever she was drunk was for him. Telling him he shouldn't join UA, his dream school because it cost too much, was for him. Wearing the prettiest smile that made his stomach churn and imparting her words of congratulation when he got a scholarship in his second year while indirectly proposing that she just might make him drop out if he couldn't get the scholarship next year as well was also for him. Leaving mid-way through his graduation because her job was more important than her son was also for him. 

Everything was for him .  

“Don't lie. If I wanted your concern , I would’ve bothered to tell you about moving out of the house a year ago." The urge to punch something was getting increasingly potent and his heart rate wasn't calming down. He didn't want her fake concern. He wanted nothing to do with her. The only thing she worried about was money ; not her son, never her son.

“Shota!” 

“You should leave.” he said calmly, “I don’t need your money anymore.” Haven't needed it since I was sixteen. 

“I’m your mother!” she gritted out, her calm façade breaking.

Yet she never acted like one. 

A shriek echoed, the voice coming from his daughter, her loud voice perforating everyone’s ears with such intensity, Kayama almost jumped from her seat and Hizashi flinched despite himself being half-deaf. The woman with blonde hair and blue eyes seemed startled, her gaze switching to the source of the sound, and Shota abandoned his anger, heart spiking for a child that rarely cried. 

“What’s wrong with her?” Kayama asked, advancing to clip off the belt to take her out, but Asuka didn't sit still in her hands, sobbing and attempting to push the woman’s face with her tiny fists. “Sho, I think she wants you,” Kayama said, pushing back her seat and standing up to placate Asuka. 

Shota was already taking Asuka from Kayama’s hands by the time she finished her sentence, and Asuka was fisting his shirt like the day she cried on the beach, snuggling on his shoulder and babbling as if she were complaining about something. She gradually calmed down when his hand kept smoothing over her hair, and when her crying was reduced to heavy breathing, the extremely confused woman spoke. 

“Who’s kid is that?” she sounded apprehensive, eyebrows furrowed to the point where her wrinkles bulged out. 

Shota peered at his mother with a near smug face, “ Mine . Aizawa Asuka, your granddaughter. Though I’d prefer you stay away from her.” 

Kayama nibbled on the slab of chicken resting on her rice, determined to blur out the drama. But damn was this fucking intense. Hizashi tried not to choke on his water as he took continuous sips from it, both of them were aware that Shota didn't have the best situation at home, and that his relationship with his mother was shaky at best— what they didn't expect was this . Whatever this was. 

“You married without me knowing?!” Shota’s mother screeched, appearing frazzled. 

Shota wondered if his mother had a loose screw. He was eighteen and asexual, what the fuck would he do with marriage? “No. Asuka’s the product of a one-night stand.” he felt a fist ram into his shoulder, and Asuka glared at him. 

This kid was calming him down without even trying.

Her nose flared, “A one-night stand?! Are you out of your mind?! You’re seventeen, Shota, what made you think having—” she exhaled, resting a hand on her chest, placating herself, “What do you do to her when you’re out on your jobs? Who takes care of her? And who’s her Okaa-san?” 

Shota frowned, “Why do you want to know?” 

“Shota!” she screamed, “If you’re still mad about me leaving halfway through graduation then that’s extremely childish of you,” she taunted, taking a couple of steps towards him while the scowl on her face deepened. “Taking care of a child is not—”

“I’m eighteen, not seventeen. You’re sorely mistaken if you think I’m angry about what happened at the graduation— graduation is just the tip of the iceberg” he cut in, shifting on his feet, “And Asuka’s well taken care of and doesn't need your presence to make her life any better.” 

The woman shook, her blonde hair flaring much like Shota’s did, except her quirk made her fury known through aviating the mug, and the flickering lamp beside her. “I am your Okaa-san and you will give me the respect I deserve.” Silver eyes glimmered instead of her blue, and Shota knew she was pissed. Not that it intimidated him anymore, but she was still using that sickly, calm, manipulative tone, and his hold on Asuka tightened. 

Then the tense atmosphere broke when Asuka screamed, waving her fist at her grandmother with such vigor, emerald eyes glimmering with her usual ‘You’re the scum of this universe’ glare, and Shota swallowed a laugh at the monumental Look. 

“Why do you feel the need to interfere in my life? Just act like you always do and ignore me.” Shota countered.

Hizashi choked on his water and Kayama slipped further down her seat.

“Who’s her Okaa-san?” she shot back instead. 

Shota was concluding that nothing was going through her thick head. “I don’t know.” he shrugged, finally answering. “Might as well be dead for all I know.” Asuka giggled at that, and he pondered whether this kid understood him. 

Though that was a thought he often pondered over. 

She appeared rabid by now, “How can you possibly raise a child without her Okaa-san?” 

“Well, I didn't have the best one either, so I think my daughter will turn out just fine.” 

“ You disrespectful brat —” she started, hair still aviating and her fair skin tinting red— “you know what? Do what you want.” she resigned, a twisted smile stretching on her face, “But I’m warning you, Shota, you’re not qualified to be a parent and that child has no future.” 

Shota grinned his crazy grin, “I’ll take you up on that challenge.”

Both Hizashi and Kayama wheezed at the confirmation without regard to Shota’s crazy mother. Out of all the ways to confirm that he was going to raise Asuka, it had to be a challenge to his mother. Comical. 

They watched as she huffed and twirled around, strutting out the door with her hair tips still flailing. Upon her disappearance out the door, the floating mug crashed to the ground, Hizashi and Kayama were still cackling and Shota, well, he felt a weight evaporate from his chest. 

He was going to raise Asuka. 

Him.

And that thought didn't seem as daunting as it did five months ago. 

Chapter Text

Sakura had many regrets in life. So many that she ran out of fingers to count.

But killing herself wasn't one of them. 

Not paying enough attention to her development as a ninja till the mission to Wave fucked up was regrettable. Her weakness in the chunin exams was regrettable. Begging Sasuke to stay instead of knocking him unconscious was regrettable. Being a complete bitch to Naruto was regrettable. Stupidly pining after the guy who had tried to kill her was regrettable. Allowing Chiyo Baa-san to die was regrettable. Not being there— the point was, her regrets stacked up to match the Hokage monument and she hated it. 

So when Madara initiated the Infinite Tsukuyomi right after tossing Naruto’s lifeless body next to Kakashi’s decapitated foot, Sakura knew all hope was lost. 

When the damnable tree sprouted, sending tremors through the ground and evoking helpless cries from all around, Sakura grabbed her kunai. 

And when the flower flourished and the light shone, Sakura pierced her heart with no hesitation. 

After all, dying was better than a false reality. 

Compared to what her heart was going through before witnessing everyone get maimed, the pain she suffered was a prickle from a needle. 

So when she crashed on the rock-hard ground, her forehead meeting with a gnarly root, she didn't regret it one bit. 

*

Sakura wondered if this was the afterlife. Because the afterlife was extremely comfortable. It was like swimming in warm jello and not drowning, it was like sleeping till afternoon and waking up fully energized, except she wasn't waking, just floating in never-ending darkness that didn't seem a least bit daunting. And it made her happy. Exceedingly happy. Because if this was the afterlife, then her friends, her mentors, and her parents were all going through this, and they were all going to be happy.

But her happiness was short-lived.

Either afterlife was shoving her to some kind of purgatory or tossing her to hell for killing herself, but the afterlife was suffocating her, the space around wasn’t jelly anymore, it was warm, but it still wasn't jelly, and she was suffocating. Then the afterlife seemed too real because now something was touching her fucking head and god damnit she was thinking this wasn't the afterlife after all. Not a beat later, there was light, and she might’ve thought she was in heaven if not for something screaming—

‘It’s a girl!’

And suddenly, even though Sakura was suffocating two minutes ago, her mouth involuntarily gaping while producing sounds that made her throat itch, even when her sight was providing a vague picture of blurs of green and white, even then she understood. She understood that she was just pushed out of her mother, and not in her warm jello of the afterlife. 

*

Now, Sakura was fine with rebirth. It wouldn't necessarily be her first choice, but it wasn't the worst one either, however, after three days into entering this exceedingly unfamiliar world, she was changing her stance on it being ‘not the worst one 

The reason for it? Her satanic mother. 

The woman was a fucking menace, and her list of bad traits was only starting. 

Sakura loved her name, she really did, and didn't necessarily think her name would be the same. She wasn't expecting to be named "Minikui', Watanabe Minikui. 

Her mother named her name Ugly and she couldn't stop her annoying tear ducts from bursting at that revelation while her devil mother seemed to be cackling at the birth certificate. Heck, even the nurses appeared sympathetic to her.

That was only the start of her hell. Soon after the discharge, Sakura experienced real hell. 

It was hunger. Baby hunger. 

She was a medic-nin in her previous life, and maternal and baby care was knowledge she was immensely familiar with. Newborns were supposed to be fed every two-three hours, and Sakura was being fed every time her voice turned hoarse from crying. Her hygiene was shit with her nappy being changed not-so-frequently, and Sakura could recall the amount of time she swam in her vomit. 

Her mother was negligent, and irresponsible, and probably didn't want her due to the number of times she had said it to her face. 

Even though she didn't want to admit it, her heart prickled with her scathing words. And most of the time, she was left to her thoughts, the echoes of her mother's taunts swirling in her mind and imprinting in her bones, staring at the chipping ceiling, pretending her stomach wasn't eating itself. 

Her breath hitched, and her eyes heavied, hands slipping from her empty belly to the yellowed bed sheet of the cot. Her only thought before losing consciousness was what a shitty death this was. 

*

Contrary to her previous assumption, she woke up very much alive. It smelt much cleaner too, and this was not her cot.

Soon after her eyes focused on a blue-haired nurse, and Sakura had a vague idea of why she was here again. 

“— This is ridiculous! You can’t just assume I’m neglecting my child, is it my fault she refuses to drink from me?!”

“Watanabe-san, your child isn't only diagnosed with malnutrition, she is suffering from a severe infection that may have cost her life if you had brought her any later. Do you seriously want me to believe that you didn't notice such prominent changes in your daughter’s health?” Another voice made it into her ear. Sakura would’ve laughed if not for the sluggishness she was experiencing. “If your daughter was refusing to drink milk, you should’ve brought her in sooner, she’s practically bones. Watanabe-san, do you expect me to believe this isn't the cause of neglect?” 

“You.. you, is this how you speak to the people paying you?!” her mother’s rabid voice echoed, “I’m a teenage mother for god's sake! What do you want me to do when my daughter stops sucking milk?! Heck even I feel like not eating at times, why can’t a baby feel the same? I didn't think she’d be burning up like that when… when…” sobs echoed, stabbing into her sensitive ears.

Sakura couldn't help but ponder whether this doctor would believe such a stupid reason. 

He did. Because the next day she was nestled in her mother’s arms, suckling milk without her imp of a mother screeching about how her breasts were going to resemble prunes or unstable threats like she was going to flush her down the toilet one of these days because of how shittily odoured she was. (and who’s fault was that?!) Though Sakura had a hunch that the sole reason her deranged mother with a clogged brain wasn't verbally abusing her was that there was a nurse in the room right next to her, guiding her on the ‘correct’ ways to hold a child while her mother reciprocated in a way that nearly made her vomit the precious nutrients in her stomach. 

Either way, her life was much better than when she was stuck in that filthy cot. Her mother wasn't nearly around as much because of her ‘job’ and the nurses were providing her with pre-pumped milk every two hours. She was bathed daily and cleaned when she shat. And for the first time, saw her reflection when the blue-haired nurse took her bathing. Normally, she was bathed in the room with the heater in full swing, but that day the nurse filled a huge tub of water in the bathroom. 

One thing was sure though, she didn't resemble her mother in the least. Her mother had mousy brown hair, shimmering gold eyes, and a mole under her right eye. Her smile was pretty when she wasn't actively patronizing her, and her lips were brown, probably from all the smoking she did. Her ivory complexion was the only trait Sakura could match, but everything else was practically non-existent. The charcoal hair, and green eyes, made Sakura consider, what part of her was ugly enough to be named ugly?! 

Then again, her mother was one petty bitch. 

*

Chakra was weird in this world. And that was something she caught on as soon as she touched her should’ve-been-named-Kijo mother, the nurse, the doctor checking her on her vitals, and the little boy who found babies adorable, subsequently wanting to cuddle them, and it just so happened that Sakura was being transferred to her room right after a blood test. 

Her mother’s chakra was focused on the layer of her skin, the nurse had a good concentration of it near her brain, the doctor’s chakra was purple and volatile, and the boy had the most minuscule accumulation of chakra in the core where chakra usually resided. 

And as if the distribution of chakra wasn't peculiar enough, the people in this world who she had by far, actually seen with her own two not-so-ugly eyes, were bizarre too. Some people had horns, others had wings, and she had positively shit herself when the lion-headed nurse admittedly spoke, a range of people didn't have normal skin color, and a minority of them essentially didn't even appear human; it seemed like all of them were high on Orochimaru's curse seal, but they weren't. The curse seal standardly stood out on the neck and she had spotted none so far. Then there was also the other telling symptom she had gauged out from the people who she had had contact with so far; their chakra was far from sinister. 

They had unique abilities too. The doctor’s assistant nurse who she unfortunately couldn't touch was sprouting rattles from her palms. Another guy in the lounge performed a neat fire jutsu without any hand signs to entertain the surrounding kids before a nurse started scolding him about ‘illegal quirk usage’. That’s when she figured out that unique abilities were called quirks and everyone had them. 

Though her excitement at that discovery was short-lived when the blue-haired nurse whom everyone referred to her as Kayano-chan brought her back to her room and started relaying information she didn't want to hear. 

“You’ll be going home soon, Mini-chan.” Sakura felt bile rise in her throat, unconsciously snuggling into the nurse and producing something which could resemble a whimper. “Oh dear, are you feeling sick again?” the nurse initiated to smooth over back and she felt herself relax considerably despite her impending doom. “Your Okaa-san came in last night when you were sleeping, she seemed exhausted.” Sakura wanted to flip the finger, she wouldn't care if the woman jumped off a cliff. “Asked about how you were doing while feeding you, it was quite endearing to see.” Kayano gushed.

Sakura wanted to scream, but she was more mature than that. 

Kayano hummed gently while placing Sakura in her cot, dimming the lights before leaving, Sakura had an astronomical urge to crawl out of the cot and run the fuck away. But she chose against doing something that contradicted her current limbs, instead, she meditated to get her mediocre chakra pool to deepen. 

It was the most she could right now to get out her of mother’s clutches. 

*

Sakura was astounded. Fucking bamboozled if she was being honest. And it wasn't the kind of surprise people had at discovering that they had a secret birthday party planned. It was the kind where she found out that Naruto was the fourth Hokage’s son, Sasuke’s maniacal brother was an astoundingly pretty man, and Kakashi was also unexpectedly nice-looking under the mask he wore— the point was, if it was the previous her with her previous body, she’d be screeching for the world to hear. 

“What? Are you surprised? I’m a pretty nice mama, aren't I?” her mother’s eerily cheerful voice echoed in the car. “Don’t worry, My mush-face, I’m certain he’s your papa. Your mama has near-perfect memory, you know? Even if I’m a high school dropout, I used to come at the top of my class!” she simpered, nastily appealing despite Sakura wanting to believe otherwise. 

“I even got you a new blanky to commemorate our farewell.” she continued to speak, and Sakura continued to stare at the woman, wondering which loony-bin she escaped from to do this . To quite literally put her in a fucking basket and toss her to her father— wouldn't an orphanage be a better choice? Hmm? 

“Your shirt might be a little stained, but that’s the only one I washed. You don't have to worry, your papa’s quite rich. I think.” she thinks — oh god, she just might cry at this rate. “I mean he was a hero-in-training from that prestigious school so he should earn something, right? And his apartment’s in an okay place in Mustafa, don’t worry kiddo, he was a huge softy when I met him.” 

Yes and that was supposed to be reassuring, wasn’t it? And the fact that this Demoness in human skin kept repeating ‘don't worry’ was already a valid reason to scream Bloody Mary. And what was hero-in-training ? Was that the ninja academy here?

The car came to an abrupt halt. Sakura was close to throwing hands at the pure bliss displayed on her imp of a mother’s face.

Her mother exited first, opening the passenger seat to haul out the basket she was residing in with one hand without bothering to support the bottom— yes, who’d care if her hand slipped, or the damn handle broke, or if her head hit the inviting pavement and died, right?— Sakura experienced swaying, and she might have dismissed that motion for casual swaying if not for the slight nudge in her head indicating that there was genjutsu in place.

Her gaze peered over at her mother, but she was nowhere in sight. And for the first time since coming to this world, she realized that her mother might have a brain in that head after all.

Her mother’s ‘quirk’ was invisibility. How convenient for this very endeavor. By the looks of it, the basket she was holding and Sakura herself was affected by this too, hence, the people on the sidewalk going about their day without so much of a glance at her. 

Slight tremors rumbled as her mother climbed a set of stairs, her breathing labored, clearly tired from the way she was hauling the basket with two hands now. Sakura produced an involuntary whimper when her mother placed— dropped the basket in the front where she presumed to be her supposed father’s door. 

Her mother’s evil gold eyes came into view once more, practically incandescent with a smile tugging till her forehead. “You alright there Mush-face? Sorry for the harsh landing.” Sakura would’ve reeled from the oncoming touch if she could, but she couldn't, so her mother was ruffling her precious black hair, “I guess this is goodbye. Behave for your papa, alright? No crying too much either, that shit is annoying—” this utter shit of a woman— 

“Can’t say I’ll miss you though, but I’m sorry for the nasty name I gave you, that was payback for the pain you put me through— what? Don’t glare at me like that, have you ever tried pushing a child out of your body? No? Didn't think so." Then uncharacteristically, she sighed, "Your papa’s going to rename you, so don’t worry about that too much, alright?” 

Sakura squeaked out of pure indignation when the devil incarnate put her unstable melanin-containing muscles and tissues commonly referred to as 'lips' on her just-started fat-gaining cheek. 

“What? You’re disgusted by your own mama’s kiss?” she asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Sakura hoped she was wearing her most discontent face ever. 

Her demented mother thought otherwise. “Aw, you’re sad about me goin’, is that it?” 

Kami this woman was taking idiocracy to new levels. 

“Sorry hun, you're just too much work for me. I have awesome tits because of you, but that’s about the only plus from having you, everything else was blah .” The devil trotted away after that, waving one last goodbye, initiating her invisibility once more. 

For the longest time after that, Sakura stared at the not-so-chipped ceiling, wondering what type of person her father would be. She didn't want to take anything that woman gave her at face value, but it wasn't like she had any other source of information. If her father had supposedly graduated from being a hero-in-training, whatever the hell that was supposed to be, and was a much nicer person than her mother, then that was supposed to be better, right? 

….right?

Yeah, she wouldn't count on it. Whatever happened, she was going to fend for herself as soon as she could start walking— of course, that was assuming she’d be alive by that time. 

*

Sakura didn't know when she dozed off, but when she woke up, the ceiling had changed. Or more like the ceiling was still white, but that warm lighted bulb-shaped bizarre octagon certainly wasn't there. Then there were footsteps echoing and she had a vague idea of where she was. 

A head appeared soon after, grey eyes observing her critically, shaggy black hair brushing against his unshaven face.

“Don't cry,”

Sakura was tempted to cry just to spite him. Why shouldn't she cry? After all the bullshit she was dragged through after entering this world, she had the right to cry.  She didn't cry enough— she should raise hell for being treated this way!

But she held it in, shoved it to the depths of her gut, she had to figure out what kind of person this father of hers was before doing anything. And it was glaringly clear in the way he kept staring at her that he was confused as shit. 

A knock echoed soon after his statement of ordering her not to cry. 

“What’s up with your face, Sho?” Well, she’d agree with that, he should shave if he didn't want to be mistaken for a thirty-four-year-old man experiencing a midlife crisis. Though something in those few minutes of purely staring at each other told her that he wasn't one to care about such mundane things. 

“What emergency could you possibly have that we had to meet before Friday?” Oh? She was considered an emergency? How sweet. In the Watanabe residence, she was considered the last priority. What an upgrade.

“Some woman left a baby outside my door and I have no idea what to do with it.” 

How about taking care of her for a change? Didn’t that just sound completely natural? To take care of the child you fucking dodo heads procreated, wow, what a confusing thought. He should just go on a self-discovering journey to find out his purpose in life, maybe somewhere along the way, he’d get the gist of what taking responsibility meant. At least one of the two lovebirds should know, right? Since the female love bird had no comprehension of that specific word or any other word that was related to human compassion for that matter. 

A pair of light eyes peeked at her and she blinked. A finger prodded Sakura’s fisted hands and she executed the same routine whenever she touched someone; she followed their chakra pathways. 

To her slight bewilderment, this woman seemed to have the same lining of chakra as her mother did, except her epidermis was brimming with a higher concentration than her mothers did and Sakura pondered as to whether this woman had an invisibility ‘quirk’ too. 

“— Dear Shota, I don't know if you remember me, but I’m the girl who you shared your sob story with and later ended up fucking — holy cow — Sho, what the fuck am I reading?!” 

Those words made her concentration sloppy and Sakura didn’t reel at the eloquence executed by her mother, but she certainly felt gravity tilt before a grating shriek entered her ears. Next thing she knew she was being scooped by her father and the woman was crouching on the ground, securing a basket which didn't hold her.

Nice.

*

Sakura could affirm one thing; her father’s friends were the most sensible people she had met ever since coming into this world. 

Sakura had believed at one point that this man might not even be her father, but after hearing stories from both sides, she decided that this ‘Shota’ dude might be the real deal. They certainly had the same hair, didn't they?— well, not only that but her mother’s version of the story she recited during the lovely car ride they had checked out too, so there was that. 

And the little speech the blonde guy named Hizashi gave? Spectacular. His conclusion left nothing to be desired. It was irresponsible of them to bring her into this world in the first place, she’d have liked to very much just die in peace. But that didn't happen and now she was suffering the astronomical repercussions by being used as a ball to play toss. If her parents weren’t capable of looking after her, that was fine, sort of, the focal point was, what Sakura needed was nurturing till she was old enough to walk and talk, and getting adopted seemed delectable. 

It was even better than being hauled off to an orphanage. 

So obviously, it didn't peeve Sakura that her father had answered ‘no’ to the capability question due to the nature of the answer being so glaringly transparent. 

Though when her father had left the house sometime after that, she’d admit that his smell of fabric softener was more comforting than the Kayama woman’s overly sweet perfume. 

*

Sakura was still a seventeen-year-old teenager at heart, so the prospect of getting her diaper changed by a male was daunting— no, just plain embarrassing.

She wondered whether this was punishment for killing herself. 

It must be. It really must be. 

Her father and his friends were nice people. Like Kayano the nurse and the doctor with volatile purple chakra, they were acceptable people. They didn't starve her till she cried but gave her a bottle when she made the right face. They changed her diapers without waiting for hours to do so, Kayama even cleaned the short spurt of vomit Sakura involuntarily spat out on her unusually thin dress without letting her hear a thousand words of complaints. And Hizashi’s comfortable hold on her while feeding her a bottle and the consistent strings of insults he hurled out his mouth for her mother were music to her ears. 

While she suckled on a nice, warm bottle given to her, Sakura wondered if her father had a doujutsu. He had an unusually dense amount of chakra circulating his eyes, not to mention how dry and red they appeared. Hizashi’s chakra density was placed in his throat and Sakura could figure out what that meant already. 

This world had an interesting dynamic around the chakra. And being the absolute nerd she was, it intrigued her. So one of the first things she did was get a handle on her chakra workings, tugging it from her core and coursing it through her nerves and veins to test just how well she could articulate it. She’d admit the pride she felt when she got the hang of it the first few tries, chakra control was her best feat after all. 

Admittedly, trying the body scan was a little tricky since, well, she was a baby . Sakura didn't want to exhaust herself by trying the mystic palm, despite that, it didn't stop her from gathering chakra to her forehead. If she could get a head start on the byakugou seal, then she’d do so without hesitation. Since being a baby meant she had all the free time in the world, she spent a good amount of time meditating— and more often than not, slumbered away while trying to do so. 

That night, when Hizashi returned to his own home before Kayama was tossed over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes, Sakura was carried back to her father's room and placed in the weirdly barricaded bed. Sakura didn't think he slept with all the staring she felt aimed at her, though clad in her new green onesie, wrapped in her cat-eared blanket, she dozed off pretty soon. 

*

Aizawa Asuka. 

Aizawa Asuka. 

Aizawa Asuka. 

She wasn't Haruno Sakura since she died, named the horrific name Watanabe Minikui at the get-go. Now she was Aizawa Asuka. 

She loved her new name. Aizawa Asuka. 

Suffice to say, her initial dislike for him had tilted to neutral. He named the first thing that popped into his head and named her Asuka. That was a beautiful name. Then again, anything was better than Minikui . 

Later her father heaved her around in the carrier, got her second shot of vaccines, and ended up being reprimanded for her lacking health, which honestly wasn't his fault. She had only recovered from the malnutrition and infection she suffered two days back. He didn't have any way of knowing that. Though he did grumble about why she was so light when a two-month-old child should on average weigh over five kilograms— which came as a surprise to her, she quickly caught on that he had ‘searched it up’ on the metal box the people of this world generally used. What a fantastic invention.

When they later exited the hospital, Sakura— Asuka has the opportunity to look around leisurely for the first time. And she didn't know sightseeing could be this much fun, there was so much to observe and absorb from here; the ground which wasn't covered with sand or mud, huge buildings that appeared like severely modified versions of the Hokage tower, unique people, the intersection next to an odd metal barricade which had metal boxes that zoomed from one side to the other, most of which she had to force chakra into her eyes to see because current eyes were terribly out of focus. 

All of a sudden, she spotted something- someone . A man clad in ninja attire, a belt that may or may not have his weapons supporting behind his back, a navy mask- Kakashi wore a mask, a fashionable scarf- like Konohamaru's.

A shinobi!

Laughter bubbled up her throat without even meaning to, making her hands move in that direction, and she couldn’t even find it in herself to be embarrassed. 

Suddenly, Sa— Asuka liked her father because he was walking up to the ninja man who screamed home, calling him something along the lines of Shinya, but Asuka was too hyped, so deep in her jubilance that she grabbed the scarf and tugged it. 

“Your sister?” 

She wouldn't have cared if her father agreed. 

“Daughter, actually.” 

Or so she thought. 

Something warm bloomed in her chest. Something she hadn't had the liberty of experiencing ever since being quite literally shoved into this world. Daughter . When was the last time she heard that? And with such confidence too. Daughter . As if he was proud of having her. Daughter . All her mother referred to her as ‘Mush-face’ or something incredibly insulting and unfitting to call a child, it was never even by the horrific name she graced herself with.

My daughter . A phrase her mother hadn't ever used. 

Or maybe she was reading too deep into it. 

“She's…cute.” Damn right, she was. 

“Well, I won’t be taking too much of your time since you're on patrol, but can you take a picture with her? She seems to like you. Or your costume. Whichever.” Asuka felt herself being pulled out of the carrier, away from the warmth her father provided and to the man she symbolized as home. “Watch out for the head.” her hand made contact with a gloved one, and for once, she didn't send a stream of chakra to analyze the nature of their chakra, instead, she let herself relax, staring at the modified metal box which could take real-time pictures too. 

*

A beach. They didn't have such views in Konoha, the most she witnessed of the sea was in the land of Waves, and even then, she didn't have much time to appreciate the beauty of it due to the obvious threat of Zabuza the demon-of-something she didn't recall and Haku the androgynous beauty attempting to murder their client. 

So there she sat, tucked in her father’s arm, observing the sea glimmering with the setting sun. It was ethereal. Sunsets always were. 

“You don't seem like a normal baby.” 

Sa— Asuka would snort if she could, but she couldn't, so she managed a smile. Of course, she wasn't a normal baby. Normal babies didn't have memories of their past life. Normal babies didn't think of the amniotic fluid as a warm jello. Normal babies didn't curse their mothers till the kingdom come. 

“Look, Asuka, I know you won’t remember or process anything I’m going to say, but this probably will be the only time I can spend time with you before you're sent off to a ‘better’ home.” she blinked, he sure said the word ‘better’ like it was sour milk. 

Head unconsciously lolling to one side, S— Asuka observed his tired face, slipping off completely as his warm hand rested on her hair. “I’m eighteen. And turning nineteen this year. And as harsh as this sounds, you were a mistake.” he caressed her hair as if he didn't call her existence a mistake, which she didn't mind because it was true. S—Asuka was never supposed to be here. Asuka was supposed to be dead; either in hell or purgatory or wherever the hell she was supposed to belong. 

A smile tugged at her father’s lips. It wasn't an amusing one. “But still, I’d like to apologize. You didn't ask to be born, and you didn't have a choice in getting such a devilishly irresponsible mama or a severely under-qualified papa.” he traced the lining of her brows and brushed the hair on her forehead with his thumb, and she experienced the same warmth she from when he called her my daughter. “I’m sorry, Asuka. I’m sorry that you have terrible parents. But you deserve better, and that’s why we’re putting you up for adoption.”

An apology. It wasn’t like the sympathetic apology Asuka received from the nurses when her mother named her ‘Minikui’. It wasn't like the pained apology she got from Kayano when the older woman hugged her shaking body and whispered words of comfort. It wasn’t like her mother’s apology that held no real feelings behind it as she sauntered off, leaving her at her father’s doorstep; abandoning her at only two months. 

This apology was different, this was because he somehow understood that she didn't want to be here, although both of them had extremely contrasting reasons for it. But he apologized. He said sorry on behalf of her mother whom she’d never forgive. Sorry to his incompetence, one which, as shallow as she was going to sound, didn't mind forgiving. 

He was late, but he didn't neglect her, didn't shy away from learning about basic knowledge just to cater to her, and didn't hesitate to clean her despite her furious noncompliance. Grumbled and moaned in the dead of the night when she kicked him in the ribs because she was hungry, feeding her without singing out insults. He let her touch and experience a piece of home. He called her his daughter.

And he gave her her name. Aizawa Asuka.

“Don't worry about being hauled off to another dump. I’ll make sure to review the list of guardians myself. It’s the least I could do for leaving you with your mama for two months.” Asuka’s fingers clamped around the side of her soon-to-be, not father’s palm, and he smiled amusedly. It was her way of saying I like you, even if he probably didn't get her meaning.

He showed her kindness, kindness different coming from a parent than a stranger. Kindness was foreign when she was in her mother’s residence, stuck in her filthy cot, wondering how she was going to manage to choke out a cry of hunger. And suddenly, the fuzziness of her chest intensified, the need to relay her words heightened, and her vision blurred. 

 “—are you going to cry?!” 

She wasn't crying . 

Then he started mumbling too many sorry’s , the string snapping when he pulled his hand away from her, causing the dam to burst open. All the negativity. All the bitterness. All the lingering feelings from the abuse. Everything poured out and she couldn't stop the loud screech from erupting. Her fist secured on her father’s shirt, burying into his side, trying to muffle her cry.

She felt him tug her, but Asuka was unrelenting in her previous life, she wasn't any different now, couldn't he just let this be an endearing moment? Why didn't he understand that she wasn't crying because she was sad— these were happy tears! 

“Asuka, please stop crying… I .. will do anything just stop crying, please .” 

She wanted to convey that baby emotions didn't work like that, but what stumbled out was another scream, and the next thing she knew someone was trying to tug her off her father and she felt rabid. Sniffing furiously, she peered at the lady who had tried to snatch and almost instantly regretted it at the good-natured smile the old lady was gracing her with. 

There was movement for a while as Asuka stared off into the beach, her crying had long ceased, but her breathing was still unstable. Asuka should’ve been embarrassed, but she couldn't bring herself to care. 

“That’s one heck of a scare you gave me there...” she heard her father murmur, simultaneously wiping off the tears and snot from her face. 

Yeah, well, it wasn't planned. 

When his hands hovered over her nose for the second time, Asuka grabbed his hand with all the baby strength she had and crushed it against her cheek. 

It was an attempted hug from her. One last goodbye before their departure. 

Asuka witnessed a smile. A genuine smile, and she had a feeling he didn't do that a lot. 

*

On a Thursday evening, Asuka let herself obediently slip into the light gray onesie her father was dressing her in while he muttered something about damn Hiyashi’s and their bad timing, and his incoherent grumbles wouldn't have been odd if he hadn't resembled a whole new man. 

No beard. Smooth, non-oily face, hair pulled back to show his somewhat predictable handsome face, hell he even smelt different. His clothes were odd too, not his usual black get-up; a crisp white shirt tucked into black slacks. Both of which Asuka witnessed him ironing furiously, and he also wore something called a tie, it seemed sort of like a leash, but she didn't think he’d let anyone pull him around. 

Two months into her father’s humble abode, Asuka wasn't sure she was going to get adopted. Kayama and Hizashi seemed adamant about that fact, and Asuka was starting to believe it too. 

Either way, she didn't think she’d mind. 

She fisted the back of his shirt on impulse when he picked her up from the bed, then watched him silently as he grabbed her baby bag and stuffed a file under his armpit in the same hand. “I have the midnight shift tonight, so behave at the night care, alright?” 

Asuka regarded him with a bored gaze, how many times did he have to remind her to behave? She was mentally seventeen damnit!

“Don't stare at me like that.” her probably continue-going-to-be father said, “I’ve heard of all the mischief you get up to.” Asuka attempted a scow and her father shook his head, closing the apartment door behind him. 

She bathed in the coos of admiration and awe sent her way while her father shifted uneasily. Understandable considering this was vastly different from the usual reaction she got when she ventured out with her father, mostly, it was just old ladies waving at her or her mother’s crooning at how much of an adorable daughter her father had. Today, much younger women were hitting on her father, even slithering their hands up to her precious cheeks to squeeze them, to which swatted at them with her four-month-old hand.

“Sorry, she’s a bit cranky today.” her father apologized to the third woman who tried to do so, and she even played the part by inflating her cheeks and reddening her face. The Hobo look on her father was much better than this. Whatever this was. 

Who was he even trying to impress? 

Later when the Night Care came into view, Asuka spotted Yumena greeting the parents and almost chortled at her questioning whether they were new customers while wearing the most befuddled face, switching her gaze between a familiar baby and an unfamiliar parent. 

“No way,  you’re Shota-kun?” Yumena asked, confirming what she saw.

“Hohohoho,” Sasaki Akane, another night care worker who was just leaving the establishment after her shift guffawed, “you sure clean up good, Shota-kun!” 

Asuka found her peculiar laugh more entertaining. 

“What’s all the fuss? Yumena, you’re needed at the play area, Chitose-chan vomited all over the mat and Bunko-kun needs help with— holy diapers,” Utano stepped out, eyes taking in the rare sight. Though she recovered quickly enough, “Shota-kun, ya got a date or somethin’?” 

Her father appeared jaded, wordlessly handing over the baby bag to Yumena and herself to Utano. “I’ll come by in the morning,” he stated simply. And she watched him almost trip over his feet when Utano wolf-whistled, laughter bubbling when Akane started her outlandish laughter once more. 

Yumeno carried her inside, still cackling at the scene of her typically unruffled father tripping over his feet, "Your papa's a funny one." she said, placing her down on the barricaded side of the common area. 

Asuka hated the barricade. It prevented her from utilizing her body scans because all kids on the barricaded side were mindless, saliva-slobbering babies who all had the same chakra core. She wanted to venture over to the big kid's side to test out the kids that frequently got scolded for using their 'quirks'. 

She wanted to get a better grasp on this world, and the only place she could do that was here , where there were plenty of people she could come into contact with. The caretakers here were particularly fascinating. Yumena for example, was brimming with chakra at her fingers, and Utano had a crazy amount stuffed up her brain and nowhere else. As for Akane with the funny laugh, Asuka didn't need to run a scan to know that she was an animal type, the woman had bunny ears for show. Bunko, the only male caretaker of this establishment, had saffron-tinted chakra. And there were a few more caretakers that Asuka had seen and never had the opportunity to touch because they focused more on the bigger kids.

Though that didn't mean Asuka didn't try to get in proximity to them. 

She may have once or twice used her growing physique to climb over the barrier, which wasn't spectacularly hard when there was some kid named Izuku being a total stepping stone for her when she needed a lift. All the kid did was stay in his corner and built up stacks of blocks. Asuka wouldn't have noticed him if he hadn't happened to be near the barricade— which he was— so she took full advantage of that by latching onto the bars of the accursed barricade and supporting her wobbly feet at the other kid's shoulder, whom by her fifth attempt had already caught onto what she was trying to do and fully supported her. 

But that was all yesterday. 

She wouldn't attempt another escapade so soon. Not when Utano had peeked over the barricaded corner for the sixth time since she had been dropped here.  

Inspections had to wait till she was off the radar. Maybe she’ll wait a week before attempting another one. For now, she’d join Izuku on his boring venture of building blocks.

Then as she turned to strenuously crawl towards her helpful friend, someone was tugging at her perfectly brushed twin tails. Asuka’s attention snapped to a red-haired kid who had a square for a nose— how the hell did he breathe?

No kid on the barricaded side spoke fluently, but Asuka knew what this meant. 

It meant war.

*

There was something comforting about sleeping without being disturbed. No missions, no hospital shifts, no war, no nothing that was in immediate need of attention. So when she woke up to that horrendous sound of a sliding, moaning machine called ‘vacuum’ that worked better than a standard broom, Asuka felt well rested. 

Her sluggish head was against her father’s shoulder when Hizashi's usual voice entered her ears, “— dude! How hard is it for you to open a damn can?! You pull this part!”

“I know how to open a damn can, you damn cockatoo!” and it made sense that Kayama was here too. This trio was like every other Konoha eleven genin group excluding team seven; they were practically inseparable.

“Yes, because stabbing the wrong side with a fucking butter knife is the way to go!” 

“You know I can’t cook shit!” 

“Damn right you can’t.” her father interrupted, evidently having enough, “So feed Asuka instead.”  

Asuka felt the woman’s boob before anything else, “Come ‘suka-chan, let’s get some food into you~” Kayama sang, shaking the bottle while rubbing her head against her like a cat. Kayama always did that. 

When the teat met her lips, Kayama went into her usual streak of retelling her awesome hero adventures. “I got something special for today,” she grinned, her blue eyes glimmering, “so, I was doing my usual patrol near the mall, and since I’m so captivating, I had this teenage boy come up to me for an autograph— now normally I’m not one for clout—”

“Bullshit. Your merch is the best-selling among the female heroes, how dare you lie to a baby?” Hizashi enunciated tauntingly. 

Then the story deviated into a full-blown argument with Hizashi and Asuka sucked on the bottle without care.  

Her father was a hero. So was Hizashi and Kayama. Hero’s were much like ninjas, she figured. They worked for the well-being of their country, protected the civilians, did patrols, and hunted down the bad guys (like in the Bingo book); it was the same thing with different titles, abilities, and uniforms. 

She found Kayama’s costume particularly confusing for the first month of her arrival here, but after Kayama had retold a story of saving a five-year girl from a hostage situation by tearing her sleeves, Asuka somewhat understood what her special ability entailed; her skin emitted sleeping gas, it seemed, and the costume was solely for matching her personality more than her quirk because Kayama didn't need to tear her clothes a week ago to put a rabid Hizashi to sleep right after she had finished inhaling the box of sweet and sour fried chicken he bought. 

Hizashi’s quirk and costume somehow weren't confusing at all. His personality and ability went hand in hand. Though she seriously questioned that styled hair of his.

Both Kayama and Hizashi were also Daylight heroes, and that term wasn't hard to decipher when her father never once went outside with his array of strange ropes during the day. She would’ve thought that the other term would be Nightlight heroes, or Moon-rising heroes, or Evening heroes, but Underground heroes worked well too. 

Asuka pretty soon unriddled the doujutsu her father had, and she didn't need a great deal of effort or eavesdropping to fill in the blanks when he was using it on Hizashi’s ascending voice right now. He used it on Hizashi a boatload of times.

An ability to nullify other abilities was pretty awesome, but the drawbacks from it were equally draining. It was the same for others too. Her father had red, dry eyes, which Asuka knew wasn't only dedicated to his quirk. Hizashi was partially deaf, which was also given considering how blaringly loud he was. Kayama had to prioritize her hygiene over anything or it appeared her quirk lost its effectiveness. And all those were prized information she gained with little to no effort whatsoever. People tended to let their guard down in front of babies. 

Before she knew it, Kayama pulled out the empty bottle in her hands with an annoyed huff, strutting over to the kitchen to leave it near the sink, not-so accidentally stepping on Hizashi’s foot on the way out. Hizashi only squawked, avoiding his limbs from flapping at Kayama solely because— “Your lucky ‘suka-chan’s with you!” 

Two minutes later Kayama was stuffing her into a comfy bouncer seat so that the ‘adults’ could eat. Two seconds later there was a knock on the door. One second later her father appeared feral. 

“Why are you here?” 

“Nice to know you still don't have manners.” 

Asuka didn't have to touch him to know that his chakra levels were spiking. Even now, his hair tips were doing the talking, incensed gray eyes narrowed to the blonde hair, a blue-eyed woman who was skimming past him. 

“So this is where you were living?” the woman spoke. 

Her instinct for this woman was disliking. 

“How did you find this place?” contempt blared through his tone and Asuka wondered what the woman in question could’ve done to evoke such wrath. 

Then something clicked when her father called her ‘kaa-san’ and suddenly, the situation appeared alarmingly clear. 

One thing was for sure, her grandma was a real piece of work. What the hell did her concern mean when she didn't even notice a supposedly crucial part of her life move out of the same house they lived in? That was like her mother telling the doctor that a baby might stop wanting to eat just because she might not feel like it, and the moronic doctor in question inherently believing the obvious nonsense of a lie. 

“Shota!”

“You should leave. I don't need your money anymore, kaa-san.” 

“I’m your kaa-san!” 

It was similar, and then it wasn't similar. It was like seeing little glimpses of her mother. But her mother had evil gold eyes and her grandmother had ice blue eyes, her mother always carried herself with casual nonchalance and her grandmother carried herself with unrelenting firmness. Her mother reprimanded her for things Asuka couldn’t control, habitually abused her with her snake tongue, and neglected her to the point of near-death— she didn't know nearly enough to form an assumption about her grandmother, but negligence was blatant and screeching from the short conversion her father and grandmother were having. 

Her mother and grandmother were similar, just not in appearance vise. 

Just in the way they affected their children emotionally. In negligence. In the snips of abuse which weren’t essentially physical, but Asuka was sure it hurt more. Just— just in the worst ways.

When Asuka’s memories started clashing and colliding, flashing before her eyes, she screamed. She screamed for it to go away, for it to forget itself because that was months ago. She didn't even think of that woman now that she was with her here. With her papa. She was okay now. Perfectly fine. She was well taken care of now, there was no need to dwell on the past— but she couldn't calm down, she couldn't forget the distress, the despondency, the hurt, the —

“It’s okay, it’s okay…” and her hand latched onto his shirt on instinct, wanting to complain about the itching feeling in her chest, but all that escaped was incoherent babbles, agitating her further. “It’s okay, ‘suka…” the light murmurs echoed in her ears as familiar hands smoothed over her unruly, raven hair. “... Papa will make the bad witch go away.” 

“Who’s kid is that?” 

When her father— Papa said ‘mine’, a familiar warmth amplified in her chest, nearly allowing her lips to wobble. It was like the day he called her his daughter. 

“You married without me knowing?!” The witch screamed, appearing feral. 

“No. Asuka’s the product of a one-night stand.” she couldn't stop her fist from aviating because he seriously didn't need to flex on that point. Being reminded that she was a mistake was irking. 

“Shota! If you’re still mad about leaving halfway through graduation then that’s extremely childish of you,” To be perfectly hypothetical, Asuka didn't think she’d even have made it to school if she was left with her psychotic mother. “Taking care of children is not—”

When her father cut her off with a reply, the witch lady’s hair hovered above her head, eyes gleaming in silver, and it didn't take a genius to figure out that she was furious. “I am your Kaa-san and you will give me the respect I deserve.”

“Why do you feel the need to interfere in my life? Just act like you always do and ignore me.” 

“Who’s her kaa-san?” 

Why’d she want to know? So that they could bond over which one of them failed their child the most. 

“I don’t know. Might as well be dead for all I know.” and a giggle escaped her, strangely psyched at that aspect. 

She appeared rabid by now, “How can you possibly raise a child without her Okaa-san?” 

“Well, I didn't have the best one either so I think my daughter will turn out just fine.” 

Her laugh intensified. 

“You disrespectful brat—” she started, hair still aviating, her fair skin tinting red— “you know what? Do what you want. But heed my warning, Shota, you’re not qualified to be a parent.e.” Witch grandmother jeered. 

Her papa grinned like a lunatic, “I’ll take you up on that challenge.”

And she didn't think anyone was surprised at the declaration. 

*

Chapter Text

On a Saturday evening after an unusually uneventful patrol, Shota was lounging in his room, his daughter sleeping on his chest ever since he picked her up from the Night Care, and unable to put her down in the cot because she started whimpering every time he did so. 

Asuka whimpered a lot at night. She was clingy too. It was one of the few times she acted like a normal kid and not her usual… whatever the hell she did. Though he was seriously concerned about how often she was doing that, and it didn't help that this behavior had only increased since his mother’s uninvited visit… did babies even have nightmares, because Asuka sure as hell wasn't sick, and she was perfectly active in the morning. He read something about night terror and how babies didn't tend to remember the commotions they caused during the night, was this the same as that?

Shota didn't have the liberty of thinking any longer because a frantic knock resounded, the presence behind the door glaringly obvious due to Hizashi’s signature voice shouting about something Shota didn't care to make sense of. 

His quirk was already active when he pulled the door open, “Stop screaming.” and the meaning was obvious enough when Hizashi saw Asuka in his hands. 

“Yeah, shit, sorry Sho,” Hizashi stammered, sliding past his friend and throwing off his boot, “but Kayama called and—” his best friend detoured to the kitchen and snagged a mug, pouring himself a cold cup of water before gulping it in one breath. 

Shota quirked an eyebrow, closing the door behind him while readjusting his grip on Asuka. 

“We’ve found her,” Hizashi whispered.

“What?” 

“We’ve found Asuka-chan’s Okaa-san.” Hizashi confirmed, “Kayama just called me, and she said not to call you yet because you might stomp down to the police station, but then she called me again and said to call you because she’s seconds away from murdering the woman and…. Sho? Dude, are you alright?” 

Shota blinked, his stiffness not going unnoticed by Hizashi, “Come on, let’s go.” and he turned, reaching for the baby carrier he normally hung on the coat hanger, but Hizashi snatched it out of his.

“If you’re planning on taking a sleeping child to a rowdy police station then I am going to smack you,” he said in a no-nonsense tone. 

“She’s going to start crying as soon as I put her down.” Shota countered annoyedly, tugging on the carrier Hizashi had shown no inclination of ungripping. 

Three minutes later, Shota let Hizashi handle a fussy Asuka because the man was seconds away from going feral on him. 

Asuka’s mother was a person he didn't have an ounce of memory to count on except for the obvious traits of what happened that night. And also someone who managed to compete with his mother in terms of irresponsibility and negligence. 

Scratch that. Asuka’s mother was unbeatable in that aspect. 

This woman had hunted him down only to shove Asuka onto him. Not to ask for financial aid, not so they could compromise and think of a more viable solution that didn't lead to abandonment, not so they could talk it out and decide to put her up for adoption because they were both incapable teenagers— but then again, he didn't deem himself qualified until he started putting an effort to be a good parent for his daughter. 

Incapability didn't mean they couldn't learn. 

He wasn't about to turn out like his mother. He couldn't stand the thought of his daughter growing up in the same indifferent and afflicting environment he grew up in. 

And If Asuka’s mother had brought up somewhere along the way that she couldn't do this, she couldn't handle a child at such a young age, then they could’ve discussed that too. Because that was better than a shit stain of a letter declaring abandonment. 

“Eraserhead?” he heard his alias name being called out behind the desk. 

It was the cat officer, Tamakawa Sansa, who looked at him weirdly because, he 'smelled' weird, “Are you here for the Hinorima case? They're being moved tomorrow though, didn't Fujiwara inform you?” 

Shota acknowledged him with a nod, “I'm here for something else.” he provided instead, “Which interrogation room is Midnight using?”

“Uh, let me check... number four.”

Shota grunted thanks and trudged past the desk, taking a right in the intersecting hallway and walking past several rooms to reach his destination. Outside, he saw Kayama inhaling what seemed to be coffee while her glasses were hiked over her head like a band. He took a seat beside her instead of quenching his curiosity. 

“Sho,” Kayama said, without looking at him as she swirled the content of her cup, “I don't think you’re going to like what you find.” 

“That’s an obvious deduction.” Shota countered. 

“I’m serious.” Kayama retorted, this time, she focused on his ash eyes with her incensed ones, “That woman’s a menace. It’s a fucking miracle that Asuka’s even alive right now—” Kayama crushed her paper cup, indifferent to the searing liquid burning her hands and dripping on her feet, “You should read the file before doing anything.”

Shota frowned heavily. What did Kayama mean by that? But he didn't question it. Kayama was easily the most hot-headed amongst the trio, but getting her to rile up to this extent was rare. 

.

Current Report By Imai Tozen, Leading Officer.

Assistance Received From Miyazaki Yasuko, Takeda Wakami, Pro Hero Present Mic, And Pro Hero Midnight. 

On April 1st, 3093, Watanabe Takeru was allegedly accused of illegal attainment of Aizawa Shota’s home address and child abandonment….

…On 5th April 3093, the suspect was confirmed as Watanabe Takeru, who was also confirmed to be seen with Aizawa Shota twelve months prior in an establishment called Whisper Drinks...

7th April 3093, located the suspect's family and collected… revealed by her family members… 

….9th March 3093, Watanabe Minikui, currently known as Aizawa Asuka was admitted to Hosu Lifecare Hospital due to an extreme case of malnutrition and pneumonia. Her condition was closely monitored for a week before deeming her out of immediate danger….  

[Conversations printed as per the recordings.]

Statement From (Sister) Watanabe Takako

"......when high school started, her grades took a huge drop, at first, Kaa-san and Tou-san said to give her space to sort herself out, they didn't want to put any pressure on her... Then she started acting strange; coming home late, and bunking school, at one point, Ka-san was called to school because she had been caught smoking. *sniffs* Takeru left home that night… We filed a missing report, but every time she was found and brought back home, she'd try to leave and Tou-san got so furious one night because she'd resorted to stealing from them… she hadn't ever done that before, but after that, we didn't file any missing reports. Kaa-san said it was just a phase…  and that Takeru would come to them when she got her head sorted out…

*Long pause* 

"Then out of nowhere, two years after disappearing, Takeru showed up at our house… *sniffs* crying and… and she just looked terrible. Her hair was all over the place, there were scratch marks on her arms, bruises on her face, and… and she was heavily pregnant. We took her to the hospital immediately. She wasn't kept there long, and Kaa-san and tou-san seemed to forget everything she ever did, but when they tried asking about what happened to her, Takeru flat-out refused to speak of anything, and our parents didn't force her much after the frightening breakdown she had… they're always soft on her… maybe that's why they didn't realize…" 

"Realise what?" [Officer Miyazaki Yasuko]

"Her tells. *blows nose* Takeru tends to have a very noticeable tell when she lies, it's because of her quirk her skin starts glimmering in and out of invisibility, but she's gotten most of it under control… when Kaa-san asked her if her unborn child's tou-san had abandoned them, she said yes, and… and I saw her nape flickering.… It was for a brief moment, but I still noticed. *clears her throat* Then tou-san went on about how Takeru should've aborted the child when she had the chance to and that Takeru was young and should be in college and not preparing to mother a child at her age— Takeru started sobbing by then, mumbling something along the lines of 'don't say that' and 'I love this child'. *inhales sharply* She lied about that as well. Kaa-san and tou-san were too busy comforting her, but I found it odd. 

*Drinks water*

"Takeru claimed she had a job in Hosu, it was apparently where she had been living after running away from home. I don't know what she did, she was very vague about it, all we knew is that it was some publishing company. But by the time I returned from my business trip, she had managed to enamor my parents to the point where they bought her an apartment in Hosu, and even let her move out to live in the apartment with one of her friends." 

"Were you there at the birth of the child?" [Officer Takeda Wakami]

*Shakes head* "Unfortunately not, neither my parents nor I were able to make it to the birth. Tou-san had to go overseas for business and Kaa-san and I went to visit our Nii-san since he lived in Yokohama, of course, Kaa-san was reluctant to go because Takeru was nearing birth, but Takeru convinced her to go, Nii-san's wife was pregnant at that time too, though nowhere near birth. Then… then his wife got into an accident and miscarried… lots of things happened, in the end, Kaa-san stayed in Yokohama and told me to go back because Takeru had given birth three days before that." 

"She named her child 'Minikui'. *sniffs* I didn't think a child could be named something so horrendous, but… but Takeru laughed it off saying her name didn't matter… that she was giving up the child for adoption— that took me by surprise, of course, because it was the first time I was hearing it, but tou-san already knew and of course, Kaa-san didn't know. Takeru said Kaa-san wouldn't be on board with that idea…*voice wobbles as sniffing intensifies* I… I couldn't visit Mini-chan as much as I wanted to because I was having a hard time at my job, but whenever I did go, Takeru took the longest time to open the door and… and I didn't think it was odd because Takeru was prone to be tired. She was always breastfeeding that child too, and Mini-chan was always asleep whenever I came."

"Then I get a call from Takeru saying Mini-chan was hospitalized for pneumonia and I rushed over, her condition was stable, fortunately, but when I talked with the nurses there, it seemed as if Mini-chan had been there for almost a week *blows nose* and when I confronted Takeru about why she didn't tell me earlier, Takeru said that she didn't want to bother me— and I believed it."  

"I know I wasn't the greatest Oba-san to Mini-chan, and I didn't think bonding with a child who was bound to leave would be good for me— but goddammit how could I have been so blind?!" 

"That's right, you were blind as batshit, drown in your miser you fu—" [Pro Hero Midnight from behind the screen]

"Kaya– Midnight!" [Pro Hero Present Mic from behind the screen]

"We can take a break if you like, Takako-san." [Officer Miyazaki Yasuko]

"N-no, no, I can go on…. *Sniffs* I visited the hospital a lot more after that, but I could only come during the night so Mini-chan was always asleep. Takeru was never there when I came in, but a nurse– Kayano was always with Mini-chan, she told me that Takeru would only come during the night because of her 'job', I didn't know what job she was talking about, Takeru had said that she had taken maternity leave, so there was no reason she'd have to keep working." 

"Then two days after the discharge, I went over to visit her with Kaa-san who was dying to see Mini-chan for the longest time, and she wasn't there…. Kaa-san was furious , of course, that Takeru had given her away so easily after such an experience… and I assumed that Takeru deemed herself unworthy because she looked like she had been through hell and back….I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry—*Sobs* I'm so so- sorry, Mini-chan—" 

"It's Asuka! Quit it with that horrible name!" [Pro Hero Midnight from behind the screen]

Statement From (Bartender) Arai Umi

“Are you sure of the date?” [Officer Miyazaki Yasuko]

"Pretty damn sure, saw 'em clear as day. And I don't forget no nothing with this bloody quirk of mine. Not ta mention it was my kaa-chan’s birthday. I was catchin' a smoke after my shift, these both come stumblin' upstairs, wrapped aroun' each other like they glued on with Dunlop or some shit, then they pretty much humpin' each other in the hallway and I flip them the finger 'cos the door was right next to 'em, *huffs* Then the woman steps on my feet and I'm thinkin' not-so holy thoughts 'cos I just washed them that mornin', so I ended up doin' the honors and opened the door an' shoved those two face-sucking moths inside the room, even made sure to step on the lady's foot too." 

"....thank you for your time." [Officer Miyazaki Yasuko]

"Don’t sweat it." 

Statement From (Nurse) Uchida Kayano.

"Minikui Watanabe? Yes, I was in charge of her. We called her Mini-chan around here though, the poor child had such an ugly name. She was in terrible condition too when her okaa-san brought her in, barely alive. And Watanabe-san was frantic, claiming that Mini-chan refused to stop drinking altogether… but the doctor said since Watanabe-san was a young okaa-san, she wouldn't know heads or tails on how to handle a child so we didn't report the oddity… no wonder the child looked so frightened at the aspect of returning home…

"Any odd behavior executed by Watanabe-san during her time spent in the hospital?" [Officer Imai Tozen]

"Oh no, she was perfectly fine. Picked up tricks I thought her like fish in water, we watched her during the morning because Watanabe-san was working, and she'd come during the night to pump milk and carry Mini-chan—" 

"Asuka. It's Asuka, kindly refer to the child by that name please." [Pro Hero Present Mic from behind the screen]

"Ah, yes, sorry, Asuka-chan. Watanabe-san would carry Asuka-chan…" 

Statement From (Doctor) Kikuchi Taigen. 

"... after the diagnosis was confirmed we questioned Watanabe-san about it, but she was a young okaa-san, claimed that Mini-chan—"

"Goddamnit, it's A-s-u-k-a, is that hard to pronounce? Why do you all insist on calling the kid that shit stain of a name?!" [Pro Hero Midnight from behind the screen]

"—Pardon me?"

"—Can you stop blowing up at everything and everyone?— Kikuchi-san, it is most adequate if you'd call the child Asuka and not 'Minikui', thank you."  [Pro Hero Present Mic from behind the screen]

"Um, okay, s-so she claimed that Asuka-chan had stopped suckling all of a sudden and said something along the lines of how she thought her child might not want to feel like eating and promptly burst into tears... I felt bad for her, and most young mothers are clueless… we get plenty of those around here, so our normal procedure was to teach Watanabe-san how to properly take care of the child…" 

"And you are sure you found no signs of abuse?" [Officer Imai Tozen] 

"Yes, *nods her head*, Asuka-chan was in a terrible condition when she was brought in, and Watanabe-san had also claimed that she had gradually fallen asleep while trying to feed her, and later that morning realized that her child was burning up. Since there was…”

*

Shota closed the file with a nasty storm brewing inside his chest. 

Asuka had nearly died. 

His daughter had almost died. 

“Did… did she agree to everything on this file or—”

Kayama growled, “That woman had no remorse. Didn't even try to defend herself when I asked her— you know what? Do the honors yourself, I’m going to get another coffee.” Kayama stood up, strutting away to the other end of the hallway, her curses still echoing in his ears. 

Shota sighed, tightening his hold on the file as he stood up. So much for an uneventful night. 

*

“Are you going to ask me anything or are you just gonna continue staring at me? I mean I know I’m prettier than anyone you’ve ever met, but glaring like that is rude, you know?”

Shota stared at her more intensely, his memory not evoking a single fragment of memory, so he started with the basics. “How’d you find out my address?”  

She smirked, gold eyes gleaming as she clasped her cuffed hands together. “That’s easy, I had a friend hack it— not going to tell you who it was, I ain't no snitch.” 

Yeah, she was everything else but a snitch. He maintained a neutral expression, “Was there an ulterior motive in returning to your family? And none of your bullshit answers because I will know .”

“Scary.” she pouted mockingly, tilting her head and looking straight into his hardened gray eyes, “You weren't like this that night though… so vulnerable and innocent—”

“Answer the question that you are asked.” 

Her silvery laugh filled the room, “Minkui's papa’s so cute. You’re a sensitive soul, aren't you? So unlike the busty woman who just interrogated me. I have no idea why she went King Kong on me though, I was perfectly cooperative.”

“You—”

“Fine, fine, I’m answering, you want to know whether I had an ulterior motive for going back to my family? Of course, I did dip shit, why would I go there if I didn't have any choice? My boyfriend ditched me after he found out I was pregnant, said he ain’t taking care of some bastard child, and honestly, I wasn't psyched about it either, but my life was at risk if I had aborted her then, so there’s that.” she sighed dramatically, “And it wasn't like that child made my life any easier after she was born, I mean honestly, that pain-in-the-ass didn't even look like me, black hair and green eyes— her name fits her quite perfectly." 

Shota wondered if his ears were dirty. 

“Heard you changed her name, I think that name’s too good for her, but you know what, Papa? You do you— where were we, oh yeah, so anyways, since I couldn't just show up at the front door after running away from home, I roughed myself up and cried— everyone’s slave to gorgeous women, except when you have a kid, that is. No matter how pretty I was, if I was seen with that blob of annoyance, everyone was always crowding her, like are they blind ? I didn't take her out much, but the nurses were always cooing over that walnut like she was some emperor—” 

Bile rose in his throat, but he shoved it down forcefully, trying to focus his eyes on the blabbing menace. 

“My parents, of course, let me live with them, but they were so damn intrusive that I ended up crying more— Hey Papa, you good? You’re looking a little pale right now.” her eyebrows furrowed, staring at him with a slight tilt of her head, and if it were another day, another circumstance where they weren't acquainted, he might have thought she was aesthetically pleasing, but right now, it was sickening. Watanabe Takeru’s whole being was sickening to him. 

“Oh, I get it! It’s taking a toll on you, right? Looking after that leech has been draining you—”

“Shut up.” Shota said scathingly, “Another word about Asuka and I just might forget that you’re a woman.” 

"Wow, sexist much?" 

And he was close to doing something exceedingly illegal, "Asuka's a perfectly lovely child, if anyone's the Menace, or the Leech, or an Annoying Pain in the Ass, or a goddamn Walnut; that's you, Watanabe Takeru." he inhaled deeply to placate himself, "Do you realize what you're here for? Or are you as demented as you seem?"

The woman huffed, looking away from him and pushing her chair back, rocking it back and forth. "That's harsh, Papa." she drawled lazily, "'course I know what I'm here for." 

He hoped she slipped from the stool. "Did Asuka refuse to drink from you or did you refuse her food?" 

“Woah, hold up about that—” her eyebrows furrowed, and distress showed on her face. Shota might’ve taken that as a minuscule amount of concern she had left for Asuka because the woman had seemingly birthed her if not for the next words escaping her mouth. “I did nothing of that sort— I mean it wasn't— like I didn't mean it, okay?! Sometimes I forget to feed her and only remember to when she cries.” she huffed annoyedly, hiking her shoulder to adjust her hair, “As much as I dislike the kid, I didn't want her to die, alright?” 

….and that was supposedly a valid reason to justify almost killing his daughter?

“Stop looking at me like that!” she snapped at him, “It was an accident, alright?—”

He hiked up the look he had just to peeve her, “If you had the means to locate me, why didn't you do it sooner?” that would've been a hell of a lot better for Asuka. No wonder the kid got so clingy, this pest of a woman made sure to void her of any form of affection.

Takeru scoffed, “You think you were my first choice? You do realize that we're the same fucking age, don't you?” Then her expression got eerily neutral, 

“Haven't you read about how I was going to put her up for adoption?— Yeah, well, that plan went out the window as soon as that kid got herself diagnosed with some-monia or whatever.” she shrugged casually, picking off the jewels from her manicured fingers, “So I turned to my friend to get your address— which by the way, was a fucking bitch to get to, out of all the type of heroes you could be, you went ahead and picked the most annoying one.” 

“You're despicable,” Shota said heavily, staring at her golden orbs. 

“I know.” she retorted, beaming.

“You’ve traumatized a child that can barely talk.” he threw next, knowing that won't affect this sociopath. 

She rolled her eyes, “She’ll get over it.” 

“You know she doesn't cry much?” he continued, not knowing why he was talking to this stone-hearted nuisance, “Rarely did in the first two months. The first time she laughed was when she saw a hero dressed like a ninja. She loves anything ninja related. Her favorite toy is the rattle from the day she received her name. She hates it when I change her diapers. She likes it when I ruffle her hair, and always leans into my touch. And her version of a hug is squeezing my hand—"

“Why are you telling—"

“She’s an extremely smart kid, and I sometimes think that she understands me on a level that six-month-olds shouldn't be able to. She causes mayhem in the Night Care I send her to, and I can’t even elaborate on the pout she makes whenever I tell her to behave. She hates it when strangers touch her cheek—"

“Dude, I don’t know what you’re trying to—”

“She enamors people wherever she goes. She loves the bouncer chair I bought her, and I don't know exactly what it is that she does, but her eyes move too much beneath her lids to show that she isn't sleeping. She’s unusually strong for a baby and doesn't let go of me when she’s crying. She loves the walks we go on—

A loud clang reverberated from the cuffs meeting the table. "What is the point of telling me all of this?"

Shota pushed his chair back and stood up, “It’s simple, isn't it? I’m telling you everything about a child you deemed to be a nuisance. I’m telling you about everything you ever missed, and everything you’ll never have.” He pushed the chair inside and unpocketted his phone, “I’m amplifying your irresponsibility and dispassion that are stuck to the very core of your vile soul.” And he relished the redness displayed on her face as he tapped his gallery, clicking on a specific photo.

“This is Aizawa Asuka the first month she was dropped to my doorstep.” he showed it to the befuddled woman before taking it back and swiping to the most recent one where Kayama and Hizashi dressed her up as a mermaid, “This is her now."

She cackled this time, loud and ugly, “Oi shithead, you think I’m jealous of that shitstain? Do you think I’m magically going to develop a motherly instinct for that squirming worm? You both Papa and daughter could go to hell for all I care!” 

Shota stuffed his phone inside his pocket and regarded her with a bored gaze, “I honestly don't expect anything from you. I’m sure nothing’s going to affect your cold, dead heart; not the sorrow of your parents, not the concern of your siblings, not the cry of your flesh and blood,” He tore his gaze away from her and turned to the door. “You’re the extremity of what a lost cause could extend to, Watanabe Takeru.”

Shota left, not at all looking forward to the day of trial because seeing her face still made him want to punch it. 

*

On July twenty-ninth, the day Asuka turned seven months, Shota was forced into wearing swimming trunks. 

“Dude, this is the time to create memories! Do you want Asuka-chan to forever remember you as a crusty old hobo? Do you?!” Kayama shouted in his face, perforating the sunny yellow trunks into his chest. “We need these photos! I even spent half my salary on this bougie camera!" 

He reluctantly took the neon monstrosity from her, "I'm not doing this if I have to wear the same color shirt." he grunted.

Kayama smiled so brightly that he was tempted to burn the glowing cloth. 

"The shirt did—"

"I'm not doing it." 

"But Sho—”

“You might have succeeded in dressing me as a cat in the fourth month, but this is going to blind me and I am not wearing it.” Shota sacked the shorts on Kayama’s crimson sofa and promptly sat on it. 

The seventh-month shoot was supposedly pool themed, and he wouldn't have hated taking photos if both his friends weren't so intent on dressing him up along with Asuka every time. The fifth-month theme was the only one that was relatively normal, and even in that, they had ventured over to a field of flowers and made him wear a floral wreath over his head. 

“I made the effort to decorate my apartment and you do this to me?!” Kayama squealed, and suddenly he was attacked from the side, trapped in a headlock while she tried to make juice out of his brain.

“What the hell are you guys doing?” Hizashi’s voice echoed in the living room. Shota’s palm heel met Kayama’s chin right then, and she lost her grip, which made her fall on top of Shota's head. 

“Sho refuses to wear the outfit I picked him!” Kayama complained, not bothering to fix her posture. 

Hizashi scoffed, readjusting his grip on seven-month-old Asuka who was dressed in a sunny yellow, frilled two-piece swimsuit. “Told you he wouldn't wear that.” 

Kayama huffed, digging her elbows into his side as she stood up, “Fine! Don't wear anything, you grouch!” 

“I won’t!” Shota snapped back, equally peeved. 

Later, they compromised with the yellow trunks and a black shirt Hizashi had bought just in case Kayama hadn't managed to convince Shota. Then they took pictures in the pool where they had various inflated floaties (too many). Asuka was as photogenic as always, displaying her gummy smile for the camera. Shota's subdued smile was there whenever Kayama wasn't snapping at him to do so, but he grinned his crazy grin just to peeve her when her requests got too much to handle. The last photo to conclude the photo shoot was the one where they all took together; Kayama on his right, Hizashi on his left, and Asuka in the middle. 

Amongst the numerous pictures he had to choose from, that was one of the photos he never had trouble putting in the album. 

*

Kayama always knew Asuka was a weird kid, and she did plenty of weird shit to validate that point. But this was something she was seeing for the first time, and...just.. wow . 

“She does that sometimes,” Utano said, watching the scene unfold with amused eyes. 

Kayama rarely ever came to pick up Asuka from the Night Care, but Shota was running a high fever and his condition seemed quite serious from the way he kept pausing with every word. 

“...you mean she uses that kid’s face as a stepping stool to climb over the gate?” she enunciated slowly, blinking at the way the green-haired kid proceeded to shoot a thumbs up at Asuka, and Asuka in return, nodding at the kid before crawling away to what seemed to be just another area of rowdy kids. “Why is she doing that?” Kayama queried, bewildered. 

Utano shrugged, “We don't know, sometimes, she just latches onto a kid’s arm and doesn't let go, other times, she’s just starin’ at the kids who’re usin' their quirks in fascination.” 

She leaned against the wall opposite to the two-way mirror, a smile tugging at her lips as she watched Asuka latching onto Tanaka’s elbow, then almost chuckled at the way the boy appeared flustered, “She’s smart about it too if we keep checkin’ on her too much, she minds her own business and plays with 'zuku, but the moment we let our guard down, well, you’re witnessin’ it right now.” 

Kayama nodded slowly, still observing the wild spectacle of the kid just dead-ass glaring at the startled boy without letting him go. Then another kid with wild, indigo hair entered the scene, shouting about what a little worm was doing at the big kids' side before promptly pushing the eight-month-old to the point where the little bean lost her balance and crashed on the ground. 

The fucking insolence —

“Brawls among children are common, Kayama-kun.” Utano stopped her before she even thought of stepping out, “And beating up a kid three-fourths your age ain’t the solution.”

“I wasn't thinking of fighting a kid,” Kayama replied defiantly, advancing onto the exit behind the screen to enter the common area when Utano halted her steps. 

“There’s always a caretaker around to supervise.” the older woman provided, “Besides, I’d say Asuka-chan’s got the situation under control.” 

Kayama was momentarily puzzled before she gasped at Asuka ramming her legs into the purple-haired brat’s shin, then watched with growing astoundment when the boy proceeded to fall with a loud cry— the boy fell from a baby kick — and that wasn't even the end, no, Asuka was climbing over the kid’s chest now, splatting her chubby hands at the shocked boy’s face as if she was killing bugs. 

Kayama didn't particularly like the kid for pushing Asuka as he did moments ago, but she wasn't necessarily sadistic enough to keep feeding her inner monster, so she tucked in her definitely-not amusement and escaped from behind the two-way mirror. By the time she entered the common area, someone was already calming the dispute between the two kids. 

“— Now both of you say sorry to each other and hug it out!” A bunny-eared woman reprimanded.

Kayama stifled a laugh at the disgusted face Asuka made. 

“She’s glaring at me!” The kid with the purple hair screeched, hiding behind a male caretaker. 

“Oh no, that’s just Asuka-chan’s sorry face. Come on now, this all started because you pushed her, Daichi-kun, let’s be the bigger person and say sorry, alright?”

“But she’s a baby! She won’t understand what I’m saying!” The brat yelled.

"You'll hurt her feelings." Bunny ears admonished.

Kayama had enough kiddy drama, she had to buy Shota’s medicine on the way to his apartment, and this brat was just delaying that. 

“Here to pick up Asuka-chan!” she chirped, entirely disregarding the mood. 

“Kayama-san, right? Let me just get her bag.” Yumena, who had just entered the scene to find out the source of the commotion, exited. Kayama wasted no time in taking Asuka from Bunny ears who seemed quite conflicted. 

“Daichi-kun…” Bunny ears pressed. And said brat appeared more bratty than ever, turning up his nose, and tucking himself behind the flustered male caretaker. 

“S-sorry about this,l.” The male caretaker stuttered, simultaneously tapping the younger boy's arm in an attempt to vomit out an apology from him, “Oi, Daichi, are you going to act like this? Asuka-chan’s Okaa-san is a Hero, you know? She might even get you crossed off All Might’s good list if you keep behaving like this.” 

That seemed to ring out an expression from both Kayama and Daichi. 

“She’ll get me cut off All Might’s good list?!” The boy screamed, his voice unsteady. 

“Okaa-san?” Kayama whispered confusedly. 

The other kids started murmuring, some squealing hysterically because getting cut off All Might’s good list was a huge fucking deal. 

“No way!” The boy seemed in denial, evidently feeling confident too because he was getting out his protective shell, said shell, was of course, behind the male caretaker’s legs, “You're lying, and Bunko-nii-chan said lying is bad! I’ve never seen this lady hero!” 

“Oh?” Kayama tilted her head, her patience snapping, “Tell me, boy,” she crouched to his level, studying his light purple eyes intensely, “just because you don't see something, does that mean it doesn't exist?" 

“Kayama-san…”

“Well,” Kayama chirped, changing her tune abruptly after seeing the kid was getting glassy-eyed, “don't disregard everything you don't see or don't know. Alright? They’re plenty of heroes out there you haven't seen.” Then she took his right hand and squeezed it reassuringly, wearing a sickeningly sweet smile, “Now let's make up so that no one ends up on All Might’s naughty list.” 

Daichi nodded, his teary gaze focusing on Asuka, “Sorry, Asuka, for pushing you that hard. That was wrong of me and, and I’m very sorry…. Just please tell you Okaa-san to not tell All Might about me, alright? I don’t wanna end up on the naughty list..”

“I’m not—”

“Ma!” 

Kayama stilled very briefly, then nudged Asuka to tell her version of sorry which was just a bunch of indecipherable babbles. 

When she left the establishment with the baby bag slung over her shoulder, Kayama deemed it appropriate to say her next words. 

“Was that fucking hoax or did you just call me ‘Ma’?” 

Asuka blinked at her, emerald orbs glimmering innocently. 

“Because if that is your first word, your papa’s going to murder me.” 

“Ma.” 

“Please don't call me that.” 

“Mama.” 

That day, Kayama left the medicine hanging at the door handle so that Hizashi could receive it, bought a bunch of baby products that Asuka might need, then retired to her home because, well, she didn't want to be on the receiving end of Shota’s pouting, which the man in question would refuse to the point of frustration, then go an extra length to contradict it by committing every petty act he could do towards her— the point was, she wasn't dealing with that. 

“If your tiny baby brain can understand me to the slightest degree, please call Sho Papa, alright? Pretty please?” she pleaded, feeding her a spoon of a random, surprisingly tasty vegetable mix, “He's going to sulk for ages , and I’d rather not be on the receiving end of that.” 

Asuka tilted her head and Kayama smiled hopefully. 

“Mama.” 

“You know what? Fuck you, you adorable piece of shit.” 

*

The next day, Kayama went over to drop Asuka at Shota’s place after confirming that he was doing well, feeling quite hopeful that Asuka had forgotten her first words. The girl hadn't repeated it after last night, and she didn't know if it was because Asuka was in the process of waking up, but the girl hadn't so much mumbled the word ‘ma’ or anything remotely close to the word for that matter. 

“Asuka-chan, try saying ‘papa’.” Kayama cooed, making sure to keep her words clear and slow enough for the kid to follow. 

Asuka didn't seem very interested in repeating the words because she was too busy fumbling with her loose ponytail, though the girl did seem to wear the most peculiar face of… of something Kayama couldn't quite distinguish. 

“Come on!” Kayama whined, lowering her pace on purpose. “You can't do this to me!” 

After five minutes of constant complaining to a child, Kayama decided to enter a small establishment to have a second round of breakfast. 

Then promptly crashed into someone. 

“Kayama-chan?” 

Kayama couldn't help the smile breaking out on her face. 

“Tomo!” she exclaimed, “How’re you? Last I saw of you was at graduation!” 

Shiretoko Tomoko, more famously known as Ragdoll now, bounced on her heels as her yellow eyes peered at the child Kayama was holding. “Yeah, it’s been so long.” she answered cheerfully, “But I didn't know you had such an adorable sister.” 

Kayama blinked, simultaneously side-stepping because she was in the way of another customer, “She’s not—”

“Oh? Is that you, Nemuri?” 

Not a beat later Asuka was giggling and Kayama almost swore at the sexiness before her eyes. Kamihara Shinya may have looked like a walking origami to some, but Kayama found him exotic—

“Oh, Aizawa’s daughter is here too.” her thoughts halted, and she was hit with an exceedingly bad premonition. “Hello, nice to meet you again.” Shinya shook one of Asuka’s wildly flying hands, a smile visible on his face since he wasn't wearing his standard mask. 

“Aizawa?” Tomoko questioned, eyebrows furrowing, “You mean Aizawa Shota-kun ?” she emphasized, glancing between a haggard-looking Kayama, a buoyant child, and Shinya who seemed extremely amused. 

“Do we know another of the same name?” Shinya retorted, throwing a hand over Tomoko's shoulder. An action Kayama missed because she was having an internal crisis. “But this sure is a surprise. Never thought you two would've clicked like that .”

“Surprise?!” Tomoko busted, spontaneously latching onto the extended chubby hands fiddling with Shinya’s always hanging scarf (The man seemed to wear it no matter what the weather was) and squeezed to assure her heart and eyes, “This is a miracle! Kayama-chan and Shota-kun— that— you know what? I’m not judging— but holy shit Kayama you as an Okaa-san? That’s just… wow ...”  and Tomoko just stared disbelievingly, her hand still firm on Asuka’s chubby hands. 

“Look, she isn't—”

“Mama!” 

Kayama let out an incomprehensible growl that earned her too many odd glances. “You made her say the M word again!” she finally screeched, her blue eyes glassy as she childishly pointed at the greenette.

“Oh my,” Shinya said, “Are you alright, Nemuri?” 

“Mama!” 

“All right?!” Kayama screamed, “I am not fucking alright, but thank you very much for asking!” 

Soon after Kayama left the establishment after losing her appetite and heard Shinya say something about keeping their secrets or whatever. Kayama was too infuriated to retaliate or correct their misunderstanding. 

“Kid, mama is very fucking endearing, it is,” Kayama started after a deep breath, “and honestly, I don't even mind that.” She dodged a kid hopping over the white strips of the zebra crossing, “But before you started calling me anything , why don't you start with your papa, huh? I assure you he’ll be over the moon, even if he does look constipated while showing it.” 

Kayama nearly tripped over when she stepped onto the pavement and Asuka’s giggle echoed in her ears. “Yes, my suffering is very amusing to you, isn't it?” she stared at the kid’s emerald orbs, then tugged at the marshmallow cheeks. “If you’re smart enough to climb over the gate by using another kid’s face as a staircase, then why can’t you understand this?” Asuka whined, shaking her head in retaliation.

“Fine, be that way,” Kayama said in mock anger. Ensuingly, her façade melted when Asuka rubbed against her face like a cat.  

*

The stairs leading to Shota’s apartment were somehow more tiring than usual, but Kayama decided Asuka’s speech was out of her control and Shota would likely get over it in a few days— years . When her feet met the platform, Asuka’s light babble intensified, and when her hand knocked on the door, it didn't even take more than a minute to open. 

There Shota was, his wavy hair tied to a ponytail, clad in a rare white shirt and grey shorts, ash eyes only meeting hers for a fraction before focusing on his daughter, relief evident in his eyes. 

“How was—” Shota extended his arms to take Asuka, Kayama stepped back, her hold tightening on the kid. 

His eyebrow quirked, “I don't have a fever anymore.”

“I know.” Kayama said, gnawing the inside of her cheek, “But, before anything else, I want to tell you something.” 

“What did you do?” Shota questioned cautiously, hands falling back to his side. 

“Hey, it’s nothing scandalous or anythin’,'' Kayama defended, jutting her chin at him, “And it wasn't even my fault this time, your kid— look, I don't know how this happened, alright? We barely bring it up around her, but she might’ve caught it at the Night Care— the point is, please don't hate me!” 

“Kayama, get to the point,” Shota pronounced annoyedly.

“She called me mama, alright?!” Kayama burst, “I don't know why, or how, or when she learned it— just don't hate me! Believe me , I tried getting her to call you Papa!” 

Shota stared at her for a solid minute. 

Kayama was starting to think he might have a seizure any second, but then—

“Pfft—”

“...are you laughing ?” Kayama watched in disbelief as Shota’s head turned to the side, his hand covering the lower half of his face. 

“Course no—pfft”

“You are!” Kayama screeched. 

Then Shota slammed the door on her face and Kayama was deeply confused. 

Was he going mad from the shock?

“Told you he wouldn't cope well.” Kayama drawled, tilting her head backward as she bounced on her heels. “We might as well get out of here and let him deal with whatever the fuck he’s going through.” 

Asuka thought otherwise because she tugged at her hair quite forcefully, “Yes, I know you’re a papa’s girl through and through and all, but I don't think he has the mental capacity to handle you right now, pipsqueak. You’ve just graced him with the ultimate form of betrayal.”

An indignant squawk echoed.

“Glaring at me doesn't fix what you’ve done. Call me dramatic or whatever, but that man decided not to put you up for adoption just to spite his mother.”

“Pa!” 

Kayama rolled her eyes, “Yeah, that’s right, that’s exactly the reason why I’ll be on the receiving end of his pinnacle of pettiness.” 

“Papa.”

“I mean, don't get me wrong, but I don't think he was going to put you up for adoption anyways, but it certainly did bring a stop to us having to bring all those candidates, ‘Zashi was right, you know? The day he brought back a shop full of baby products just to accommodate you for a ‘few nights’, he said he knew exactly how this was going to end.”

“Papa.” 

“Sho was already whipped for you by the end of the first month— what did you just say?" Kayama loomed at the child as if she had sprouted horns. 

Shota opened the door, no signs of his prior episode of hilarity evident except for the amused glimmer in his eyes. 

Kayama scramble to explain, “Sho she just called you—”

“Papa, yes, I know,” Shota said, extending his arms to retrieve the child once more. Kayama didn't back away this time, openly gaping as Shota patted Asuka’s head with unveiled fondness. 

“You— when— how — were you— and you couldn't have told me sooner, you fucking troglodyte!" Kayama erupted, heaving, veins popping, and nose flaring. 

“You do realize I have neighbors?” 

“Fuck your neighbors. Do you know how much sleep I lost over this?!” 

Shota shrugged, turning his back on her as he walked inside his apartment. Kayama stomped inside after him, hazardously shutting the door and throwing off her shoes untidily, sacking the baby bag on a heavily slumbering Hizashi who was curled up on the two-seater sofa. 

Shota settled Asuka on the play mat knowing that she wouldn't move around before retreating to the kitchen where Kayama was drinking water right out of the jug. 

“I hate you.” 

“Okay.” 

“I really, really fucking hate you, you piece of utter shit. You might like roaming around the night like some soulless zombie, but I need— ”

“We both know this isn't about losing sleep.” Shota intervened, snagging the jug from her as he ventured to the sink, picking up the sponge, he initiated to aggressively scrub the jug.

“Damn right, it isn't you fucker!” Kayama bellowed. 

“Look, it was a surprise to me too.” Shota said, rinsing the jug, “She said it out of nowhere while I was dropping her off at Night Care, and seriously, what would you do with her first words anyway? Frame them? It isn't like she said anything out of the ordinary.” 

Kayama grumbled distinctly coherent curses. 

“And Asuka calling you mama probably isn't what you think it is,” he added, drying the outside of the jug.

She quirked an eyebrow. 

“She calls Hizashi ‘Ee’, and you’re named Kayama, her version of your name is just the last two words: Ma.” he started filling the jug with fresh water, “Mama is probably from the Night Care, I reckon she hears plenty of those there. It’s not a surprise that she put two and two together.” 

“That makes sense.” Kayama nodded, “But hold the up about her calling Hizashi ‘Ee’— why am I the last one?!” 

“Why’re you so immature?” Shota retorted, placing the jug where it was. 

Kayama snorted, “Says the dude who got a fever from his daughter calling him P apa . Some tough shit you are.”

“I did not— “

“Oh save it Sho, we both know you didn't just randomly drop sick.”

Shota glared at her. Kayama shot him the shittiest smile she could muster up.  

Then they heard a familiar squawk from their habitually cacophonous friend, both their attention shifting towards the source. 

“SHE’S WALKING! ASUKA-CHAN’S WALKING— WHERE IS MY PHONE?!”

Kayama gaped, leaving her stool shaking in her wake as she zoomed to where Hizashi was. Sure enough, Asuka was walking. The kid was dumping all the surprises at once. 

She looked back to observe her tsundere friend’s reaction, but he wasn't there. 

Instead, he was crouching a little further away from the kitchen, his line of sight directly in front of Asuka’s as he beckoned her to come with a soft smile visible on his face.

“Oi ‘Zashi,” Kayama muttered, “forget about Asuka-chan, make sure to take a picture of Sho before he starts scowling again.”

“Roger that,” Hizashi murmured without hesitance. 

They watched the scene from the couch as Asuka’s chubby legs trudged towards a waiting Shota, her hands extended to balance herself, a gummy grin blooming on her angelic face.

When Asuka neared Shota, she jumped into his hands, hugging the man with everything her little body had, Shota's hand covered the little body whole, reciprocating the hug in such an endearing manner that Hizashi sniffed beside her, mumbling some shit about how beautiful it was. 

And it was. 

It truly was. 

Not that she was crying. 

No way. 

*

Chapter Text

“Are you suicidal?”

A squawk echoed before the bulldozer in his hand started struggling to be put down. Again. 

“Asuka, your knees are scraped, your elbow looks horrid, your toe is bleeding, and blood is all over your teeth. I am not putting you down just so you can get more injured.” 

“Papa!” his possibly crazy daughter screamed, glaring at him. He only tightened his hold on her. 

“Don't papa me.” she huffed, then proceeded to ram her mouth in his shoulder, biting him.  

He snorted this time, “Yes, receiving a bite from your barely stable teeth is very hurtful. Does that quench your thirst, maniacal child? Or do you still want to zoom around the park, and crash yourself into a tree like you did three minutes back?” 

Another cry of frustration was enough to answer his question. 

One moment he was setting her on the ground of the park they frequented, the next moment she decided she didn't need his support to walk— to run, making his heart vomit when she sprinted at full speed, ramming into a dog with a frisbee in its mouth. Then as if that wasn't enough of a scare, she proceeded to get up before he could reach her, zooming off again, wind in her hair, loud and labored laughs resonating along with her hobby of making his heart suffer. 

She crashed into a baby stroller with another baby inside it, and he didn't know he could exhale so many apologies at once at the startled mother. And really, he didn't think the kid would continue on her wild endeavor of colliding with living and nonliving being all alike while having a nasty, scraped knee, but was proven wrong with eye blinks because halfway through his apologies to the woman, she took off into the horizon, allowing very coherent curses to slip out of his mouth as he started chasing after a nine-month-old child who had only started walking a week ago.

He, a fucking pro hero, one of his winning qualities being agility, could not stop his nine-month-old daughter when she pounded into a massive tree trunk. He expected her to cry, which was normal, and he assumed so were the other people gathered under the thick foliage tree, enjoying a nice picnic. But of course, Asuka didn't cry.

She smiled instead, a bright, toothy, bloody grin as she fell back, reeling from the heavy smack she took. He caught her from falling on the grass, just staying still for a minute because what the fuck.  

So now here they were, on their way to the hospital because he didn't want to assume anything with her health, and his spawn’s mood taking a one-eighty turn since he refused to stay at the park any longer to allow her to enjoy the venture of an improvised version of whack-a-mole with a twist of herself being the hammer. 

“We’re going whether you like it or not, you should’ve thought it through before running off like that,” he grunted. 

She pouted.

“You know you'll feel the full brunt of it once all the adrenaline flushes out of your system."  

“No!” 

“I have no idea what that means, but we're not going back to the park for today. You look like someone sucker punched you in the face, Asuka, and for someone who’s suffered pneumonia, I’m not risking it with the infections. We aren't going to the park until your leg is scar free.”  

She appeared glassy-eyed at that. 

His heart prickled.

But he didn't take it back either. Sometimes, putting your foot down was… necessary. 

*

Asuka had no clue what compelled her to take off like that. 

Maybe she’d blame it on a baby's instincts.

The pain aligned with risk. And she took the risk to stumble about on her noodle legs, but running was freeing, and her father didn't necessarily keep her cage in their home to make her feel this way, he took her out on multiple occasions which didn't entail the trips to the Night Care. It was just that, the wind was guiding, her adrenaline was high, and she felt like she was flying on trees back at Konoha. 

Then she woke up from her daydream when she knocked into a tree. 

Somehow she was caked with blood— how reminiscent— while being trudged towards somewhere that didn't have all the free space in the world to unleash her metaphorical wings. She was sure her father had his heart in a good place, but these injuries were quite literally baby food, nothing anyone would need to ban park time over.

However her allegedly minor injuries were stinging like a thousand wasps had decided to stab her, and she wanted to smack the nurse who was performing the task so immaculately. The cherry on top though? A tetanus shot on her tushy ass. Her father seemed highly amused by someone who was complaining about pneumonia and infections and park bans and whatnot. 

That afternoon though, her father made her a special spaghetti mix and she didn't think any more pouting was necessary.

Asuka figured it was one of his spontaneous off days because he wasn't dressing her up for Night Care right after feeding her. On days like these, the things her father did were spontaneous too. It might be rearranging the family album with the latest batch of photos they took as she sat next to him, indirectly pointing at the ones she deemed worthy for the sole reason that he appeared to be developing an aneurysm while doing so.

Other times he’d just lay around the house like a slug while listening to depressing music, and she’d tried her hardest not to fall asleep in the middle of attempting to exercise her hands by trying a braid on his charcoal hair. There were also times her father would just play a ‘movie’ on the most fascinating device called the ‘television’ and she’d try to keep her interest on it, she did, but the light emitting from the device was so intense that she’d end up closing her eyes for a few moments and then bam! She’d be asleep. 

It was surreal how easily she could sleep during the day. 

Today, she allowed him to dress her in a stark yellow onesie before he set her down on the sofa, throwing a don't-get-off-the-sofa Look before venturing into the kitchen. In all honesty, she liked to do things just to spite him. It was just amusing how babies could do all sorts of shit and get away with it.

Her hands brushed over the chestnut-colored sofa, letting herself tilt to the armrest only due to the annoying body ache she was experiencing from the tetanus shot.... Or maybe she could fix that...

“Nice to see you listened.” her father joined, the sofa sinking as the weight shifted, the smell of popcorn wafting in the air and distracting her from the concentration she should be having. 

Asuka squawked at him. Voluntarily. 

When the television blared open, she closed her eyes on impulse, then felt herself being tugged towards her father as he grunted something about bad posture. His cushy firmness was better than the sofa’s, and the television blared with words she soon blurred out, placing her hand on the grazed knee, summoning her healing chakra on a whim. 

One thing she learned very soon after coming into this world was that no one could see her chakra—  and she learned it the heart-jolting way when she was conjuring up a good old mystic palm when Hizashi entered the room to check up on her sleeping status. For one whole minute she thought he was going to blow off her eardrums like the day she first called him ‘Ee’, but he just cooed in his usual voice and proceeded to ignore the very palpable green glow in her hand and picked her up from the cot to whisk her away to the living room. 

So of course that revelation intrigued her, consequently her attempt of evoking two whole hands of healing chakra to which none of the three so much as blinked at. It was the same at Night Care, and her experiment on the streets just made people beam at her for brandishing her odd dance.

Either way, it was beneficial for her if they didn't pick up on such things. And she didn't dwell on why the beings of this world didn't see the same thing as her, because, quite frankly, many peculiar things had occurred to her during her stay in this world and people not seeing her healing chakra were flopping down somewhere bottom on the list. 

She let chakra slip into her body, scanning for an infection she knew wasn't there before guiding the warmth to weave under her skin. It wasn’t the first time she was making use of this, but the same nostalgic rush always washed over her. She made sure not to heal it completely, working on her elbow, then closed up the cut on her toe to a significant amount, and did nothing about her busted lip because there wasn't any real discomfort coming off from the area. 

When she opened her eyes, her father was peering at her. 

She blinked back, trying to make sense of why he seemed to wear such a constipated look.  

“...I’ll take you out in the stroller tomorrow.” 

*

“You’re going to spoil her,” Shota grunted, slipping on his boots and tapping his foot on the stone ground. 

Hizashi snorted from the sofa without looking up from braiding Asuka’s hair, “As if you don't do that already.” 

Shota stood up, readjusting the streams of his weapon as he slipped his silver goggles under them, “I don't spoil her.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever makes you not sleep at night,” Kayama waved off lazily, “but which of these suits her better, the teal or the coral?” She showed them two frocks, shaking them with a deep frown adorning her face. 

“Coral.” 

“Neither.” 

Kayama rolled her eyes, “Then why the hell do you have them? You’re just in a pissy mood ‘cos you can’t come with us— I’m going for the coral.”

“She doesn’t like frocks because they’re itchy.” Shota retorted, “Make her wear overalls.” he turned to leave, clutching the doorknob, then turned around once more, “And no more sweets for the day.” The door slammed shut after that. 

“Heard that, bud?” Hizashi tied the end of the braid, “You’re papa said no more sweets for you.” 

Kayama huffed amusedly, “Of course, there’d be no sweets. Shota hates anything strawberry flavored, I don't imagine the cake from this morning just disappeared.” 

“Yum.” Asuka croaked, voice heavy with the short nap she woke from. 

On 29th January, morning 5:45 am, Hizashi and Kayama had barged into Shota’s apartment with a cake they ordered the previous night. Shota was peeved, but the man was easily peeved so it didn't count for anything. Unfortunately, due to their pending shifts, he and Kayama had to leave right after cutting the cake and snapping some quick shots. 

He did not doubt that Shota had a fantastic day of spoiling his daughter with all that he could. Numerous signs of it peeked around the apartment like the shiny, green boots neatly arrange by the doorstep, the foreign clothes washed and hung near the heater, a simple, emerald studded necklace adorning Asuka’s neck, and last, but most likely not the end of the list, the plethora of bright colored wrappers of sweets Asuka liked placed nicely near the rest of the garbage to be taken away.

(He’d have missed that if he didn’t manage to trip over it)

Hizashi squished the kid’s cheek because he couldn't pat her head, “Of course, it was, now let’s get you dressed up for the best birthday ever!” 

*

“This isn't working.” 

“Yeah, I don't think she likes dolls. Or the doll house. And Sho’s already got her a tricycle. And she doesn't seem interested in blocks.”

“She pushed away the Legos.”

“And the rocking horse.” 

“What about the inflatable funhouse?” 

“Oh, that’s a good one!”

Kayama and Hizashi stood in a corner, discussing their mildly unsuccessful venture of spoiling Asuka. 

Asuka already had art supplies like crayons and colored pencils, so they didn't feel the need to buy anything similar. They didn't even stumble into the stationery sections of the toy store at all. So far, all they got into the basket was multiple Edgeshot merchandise, two stuffed toys, one in the shape of an ugly slug, the other a stark, orange fox, and a jar of candy Eclairs. And the inflatable fun house.

It disappointed them a lot more than expected when Asuka didn't go spiraling around the store, touching everything she liked so that they could purchase it as they had initially intended. Well, maybe not everything, but maybe the majority. They still had rent to pay and debts to reimburse.  

“We still have a few more stops,” Kayama said, pacing her steps to match Asuka’s as the one-year-old ambled about cheerfully, unknown of the dilemma they were facing 

“Maybe Sho already brought her everything.” Hizashi trudged after them while he pulled the basket behind him. 

Kayama hummed wordlessly, the trio making their way to the cashier. Hizashi heaved the basket on top of the metallic table, offering the cashier a smile. 

“Sashi.” a low voice muttered, and Hizashi peered down to find emerald orbs glittering at him. 

“Yes?” his smile widened, crouching to her height, then he had to stand up once more because the kid was yanking his mustard yellow parka towards what he figured to be the book section. He watched her tippy-toe, delicate fingers rising to barely brushing against the hardcover of her selected choice. 

“...you want...this..book?” Hizashi blinked, struggling for his next words as the girl’s braids shook with her confirming nod. “And, um, you can, I’m assuming, Asuka-chan, read what’s on here? ‘History of Quirks and Evolution of Time’?” he took the book tinted with rainbow splashes all over. 

Her excited face seemed to dwindle to a blank slate. Which was odd as fuck— but not as alarming as a one-year-old being able to read. 

She wagged her finger at him.

“What?” Hizashi questioned, staring at her furrowed eyebrows. 

“Prih-eey!” 

Oh. Oh. The cover was pretty.

“Oh yeah!” he exclaimed, chortling at the initial stupid, unconventional thoughts he had. “It’s totally pretty. Absolutely gorgeous. Good job, Firefly!” He patted her cheeks lovingly before tucking the book under his arms, lightly guiding her to the cashier where Kayama managed the bill. 

*

Her hand twisted in Hizashi’s golden locks peeking out his jungle green beanie, mentally berating herself over slipping up so badly. What the hell was she thinking when she showed him the book?! Prih-ey?! Pretty?! She buried her cold face into his neck, wanting to scream out the sheer embarrassment prickling her bones.

“Are you okay, ‘suka-chan? Feeling sleepy?” Hizashi voiced. 

No. 

Feeling like an idiot? Yes. 

Because she didn't want to cut the trip short, she perked up immediately latching her gloved hands on either side of Hizashi’s face. He seemed to have gotten her message because the next thing she knew, he was stealing kisses all over her face. And she let him. 

Hizashi was easily the most affectionate among her father’s friends. Always cooing. Helping her run around the house after shifting much of her father’s furniture. Twirling around until she felt dizzy, only to stop when her father smacked his monumental head. Purchasing her little accessory and trinkets that seemed to suit her. Experimenting with her hair and crooning about how lovely she looked no matter the hairstyle. Making her his special bite-sized pizza on Fridays and conjuring berry smoothies when she uttered the simple words ‘Riri’— her wording was mortifying, but it did the job. 

“Oi, stare ahead.” Kayama’s voice came from the side. She watched as Hizashi made a face at the woman. “Why’d you buy the book?” Kayama questioned, disregarding the kiddish face directed at her. 

“‘Cos this little firefly wanted it.” Hizashi quipped back, bopping her nose. Asuka scrunched her face and buried her head where the warmth was once more. She in no way, shape, or form thought that she had the perfect mischievous baby persona going on. That was hard to pull when she was nineteen years. Soul-wise. Though the last thing she wanted people to think was that she was some prodigy in the making. To garner attention. Be under someone's scrutiny and surveillance like some lab rat. 

Though despite all that, she couldn't hide her thirst for knowledge. Books were a sanctuary for her. And being a nerd in her previous life was an astronomical part of that. This world was still foreign to her, she was oblivious to many things while living in a safe bubble that her father and his friends provided. 

There was so much to know here. Like how ‘quirks’ came to be, why did the big kids have their chakra expanding from their core and making themselves home in different parts of their body? Why did Izuku and the rest have their cores tightly packed into a ball just above their navels? Why did that one adult who worked over at the big kid's section have a similar core as Izuku and the rest? Why did some people's chakra have colors and others didn't? Why did people with the faces of animals talk? Why couldn't normal stray cats talk? Why, why why,— so many why’s with no answers. 

So when the book titled: History of Quirks and Evolution of Time grasped her attention among the other trinkets in the store, Asuka wanted it. 

No.

Needed it.

It seemed like it would provide plenty of answers. 

“Huh? Why’d she want a book?” Kayama asked. 

“The cover was pretty.” Hizashi said, “It had these rainbow splashes like someone threw sponges at ‘em, must’ve caught her eyes.”

Kayama hummed something along the lines of ‘weird kid’, then smoothed over the back of the snow-white coat she was put into. 

“Yeah.” Hizashi chortled, herself shaking due to his deep laugh, “For a second I thought she knew how to read.” No shit. If it weren't for her quick thinking, he might’ve just destroyed every single glass in the vicinity. 

*

By the time Asuka passed the 2.5-year marker, she could somewhat talk normally. Not the usual moronic sounds like ‘Riri’ or ‘Booboo’ or ‘prih-eey’, she could form full sentences, though she had yet to have a firm grasp on some pronunciations. And Doctor Fusazane was acutely impressed by her verbal development, so much so that he was beaming when she replied ``How  are you doing today with: ‘I ‘ave a terr'ble knee ach ‘cos I fell in th’ park!’

[I have a terrible knee ache because I fell in the park]

She was always tumbling around in that damn park for some reason.

Fusazane regarded her father with an impressed Look. “Asuka-chan’s quite gifted, actually, not many kids her age can speak as she does.” 

“I know.” 

Asuka reeled back her head not so subtly on her father’s chest. Fusazane laughed it off.

She wouldn't necessarily say being verbally advanced was anything to be wary about. Haruno Sakura was verbally advanced and that didn't make the people around her treat her any differently.

“Well, there’s nothing wrong with her results,” Fusazane said, closing her file, “Asuka-chan’s perfectly healthy. Just keep doing what you’re doing and everything will be fine!” he conveyed cheerfully. 

When they left the doctor’s office, both of them made their way out of the hospital, him keeping her close to his side while she stumbled about, clutching his shirt because he usually had to bend over whenever she reached for his hands. “Papa, I wanna eat somethin’,” she said, hoping it was loud enough to be heard over the PA system announcing an emergency. 

“You ate two burgers an hour ago.” he deadpanned, tugging her to the side as a stream of nurses rushed through the hallway. 

She scowled, being tiny was such a hassle. Yanking the end of his black shirt, she made him pick her up. “Buh that was an ‘our ago!” she insisted. No way was she eating peas for lunch at her preschool when she could eat something unhealthily scrumptious. Like burgers. 

The burgers were the best. 

He snorted, peering at her with knowing gray eyes. “They’ll serve food at your preschool.”

Now, Asuka hated acting like a baby, (hate would be a strong word, maybe a minor dislike) but desperate times called for desperate measures. She circled her arms around him, nuzzling his neck, and squeezing tightly as she bubbled out a: “Please, papa? Pretty please wi’h a strawb’rry on top?”

“....you can’t coax me into feeding you a third burger. One is the limit. And you know why you got to eat two today, Asuka.” he grunted, and she felt movement as he started walking. 

Asuka smirked victoriously, detecting the reluctance in his voice. Leisurely swinging her foot, she detached from the hug and blinked at him prettily, “‘cos I got my 'lood tak'n out t’day?” 

“Yes.” her father said, avoiding her gaze as he stared ahead. Coward. 

She stared more intensely, grabbing hold of both sides of his head to make his ash gray eyes focus on her, “You sur' I can’t 'ave ‘ny?” 

His jaw tensed, “Even if you got your blood taken for testing, you’re not tricking me into getting another round of burger.” 

Asuka pouted visibly, slumping on his shoulders as her feet brushed against his thighs much more aggressively. 

The woes of being a child, fussing over mere food (Junk food). She could finally understand why children tended to spit out peas. They tasted bland. The more you chewed them, the more revolting it got. It wasn't like all the meals at her preschool were that unsavory though, Steak Fridays were okay, fish & chips Tuesdays were the most anticipated, and curry rice Thursdays were the best. So not all of her food choices were bad, per se, but this world had more variety to offer, and, well, it tasted eons better than the ration bars and rabbit meat she used to cram down her throat to keep up her gears running.

Though some irrational part of her brain prodded towards the period in her life where she was deprived of food for months after her (literally) tear-jerking arrival and thought maybe that was the reason she was so obsessed— or maybe not. It was only a month and a half, after all, that didn't even amount to the days she was punching holes into sticky white chest cavities, and then kneeling over anyone that didn't have uncanny reanimation eyes and the most vile white for skin, pumping healing chakra and mending their wounds as her blood coated hands hovered over their skin. 

"Haruno-senpai! We got someone with pneumothorax over here!"

"Where's Shizune-senpai?!" she yelled back from her table without looking at the groaning Iwa-nin. The heat inside the tent was unbearable, perforating her in every direction as she wrenched the bubble of toxins out with an exhausted heave. This was the seventh patient to come in poisoned, and the seventh fucking patient to glare at her like she was hurting them on purpose. 

"At least give me knock me out!" 

"Shizune-senpai is tending to another critical patient– Haruno-senpai! He's chalking up blood!" 

"Give him a dose of doxycycline!" she called back, eyes focusing on the next bubble, simultaneously ignoring the jabs thrown her way. 

Then her ears were ringing, and gleaming yellow eyes entered her vision—

“—suka? Asuka? Are you—”

She blinked, tilting her head at the way her foot dangled from the ground, not brushing against her father’s baggy jeans when she wiggled them. It was odd. Why was her father holding her away from him while wearing the same look he had when she tended to run into things she was not supposed to?

“Papa?”

His thumbs tightened around her arm sockets and the remaining fingers around her back, relief blatant in his eyes. “Thank kami .” he said, bringing her close again, “I thought .. I thought you were having a seizure or somethin',” he mumbled, smoothing over her hair, placating himself more than herself. “Don't scare me like that you brat...”

Did she... zone out?...

Then he started walking again, mumbling words she couldn't decipher. 

Later she got a guava smoothie and not a burger. 

And then there were no peas to eat because her father took her home instead of school. 

*

Asuka was aware that she was more of a mind-my-own business type when she wasn't inherently harassing people for their fascinating quirks (and it was quite literal in that context). Except now that she was capable of speech, she asked before grabbing hold of them randomly. 

However, on Katsudon Wednesday, during recess, she wasn't looking for an adventure.

“So yer the brat ‘zuku keeps houndin’ me ‘bout?” a boy was speaking to her. A boy who had both hands on his hips, chest jutted out confidently, “What’s so special about’chu? Huh?” he taunted, ruby eyes gleaming and lips etched into a smirk as if he’d been promoted from genin to chunin on his first try. 

Was he picking a fight?

“What? Nothin’ to say?” he prodded her. 

She blinked, packing the sand-filled bucket with her neon shovel, “‘re you ‘zuku’s frien?” she shot back. Asuka had heard Izuku raving about his childhood friend on multiple occasions. Kacchan’s so cool! Me an’ Kacchan are goin’ to be heroes together! Kacchan’s strong like you too, ‘suka-chan, he can beat up bullies like All Might! Kaachan says he’s goin’ to get a super cool quirk — he forgot to mention Kacchan was also a little bitch, because he just mimicked her response with an unusually high-pitched voice that certainly wasn't hers. 

“Ha?!” he shouted gratingly, “I'm not just his friend,' ' he mocked, taking a few steps into the sandbox. “I'm his best friend — ‘nd I heard how ya treat ‘im and it’s unac’petable!” he screeched some more, stomping his foot and scaring away some of the kids behind her.

Frankly, his voice was the only unacceptable thing here. 

“Kacchan!” Izuku’s voice interrupted whatever verbal berating he had for her. Not that she was going to let that happen. The shovel in her hand was quite handy. “Don't annoy ‘suka-chan!” 

“But she steps on ‘yer face!” he yelled back. 

“‘Cos I let her!”

“Well, ya shouldn't have let her!”

Asuka blurred out the argument and focused on building a bucket castle. It was what kids her age did. Build fucking bucket castles. Though the sand could use some work, it was drier than her father’s eyes on a bad day. She patted the last layer and smoothed over the surface before flipping the bucket at lightning speed. Smirking with victory, she tapped the bottom two times and pulled the bucket. 

Then black boots squashed her castle. 

“What ‘re ya laughin’ ‘bout? ‘Yer still not off the hook—” 

The shovel in her hand somehow flew to his face. 

Izuku’s frantic cry echoed, Kacchan glowered at her, tackling her on the sandbox, screaming something about ‘yer dead meat’. 

Asuka punched him, disorienting him for a second as she rolled out from the tackle, the next second her precious hair was being tugged and she laced her arms with strength, gripping his hand which held her hair, producing a war cry before throwing him over her shoulder and onto her destroyed castle. 

*

Shota was sprinting to the preschool because his daughter gave someone a bloody nose.

He knew she was impulsive and rowdy, but god dammit she hadn't ever drawn blood. 

Gathering his hair messily, he tied it up to a hopefully presentable ponytail all the while dodging a pregnant woman tumultuously talking into her phone. There was also an Owl mascot handing out something he didn't bother to read, stuffing it into his pocket instead, and when the bright yellow gates of the preschool came into view, he wondered what kind of hell awaited him. 

“Fight me again ya brat!” 

“Katsuki, are you out of your damn mind?!” 

“Kacchan, I told you it won’t work like tha’.”

“Shut up ‘zuku, yer fightin’ me again!”

“Don't wanna.” 

...and this was not the hell he envisioned. 

“Oh, Aizawa-san.” the physically blockheaded principal acknowledged him, relief washing over his charcoal eyes. 

“Papa!” his daughter waved at him, struggling to get out of her homeroom teacher’s hands. He took her into his arms, confusion steadily growing in his eyes. Soon, he was ushered to sit down, opposite to him was a kid with tissue stuffed up his nose, Katsuki, he recalled. Izuku from Night Care and a woman who looked like a direct replica of her son.

“Is she getting suspended?” Shota deadpanned seriously, focusing directly on Principle Mori. 

“What? No, no!” Katsuki intervened, jumping from the sofa only to receive a firm smack to his head. “God dammit don't hit me!” he screeched, glaring at his visibly irked mother, “Tha’ brat can’t get suspended— I gotta win at lea’t once! FIGHT ME AGAIN—”

“STOP SCREAMING, YA TWERP!”

“KAA-CHAN, ‘YER THE ONE KILLIN’ MA EARS!” 

“AND ‘YER THE ONE PICKIN’ FIGHTS WITH CHILDREN YOUNGER THAN YOU, ARE YOU A BULLY? DID I TEACH YOU THIS?”

“I DIDN'T START NO NOTHIN’, THAT GOOGLY-EYED BRAT PUNCHED ME FIRS’!”

“Right, aft’a you crumbled her castle’.” Izuku interrupted without breaking a sweat. Honestly, kudos to the kid. He looked down at his daughter to observe her reaction but only found her more interested in tinkering with his watch. 

It’s not that this was the first time he received a complaint about her aggressive impulses. But it was the first time since he enrolled her in preschool. He was anticipating a fuming parent with a sobbing kid— but this? The victim himself demanding for a rematch because he had lost the fight, his mother swatting his son over the head instead of boring holes into his skull, and Izuku swinging his legs as if this was a common occurrence. 

It probably was. 

“Can we please discuss this more civilly?” Principle Mori requested.

The question on his tongue didn't leave his lips before the woman clicked her tongue annoyedly. “Seriously, Mori-san? What’s there to discuss? Katsuki was being a little shit, and he got what he deserved.” her eyes detached from the queasy-looking principal to him, then down to his daughter, “Asuka-chan, right?”

Asuka nodded, blinking blankly. 

“Heard you attacked him ‘cos he ruined your sand castle. I know what an annoying brat he can be, but throwing things like that can be dangerous, alright? Friendly brawls are all good and all until someone lands in the hospital.” she beamed at his blank-faced daughter and Asuka cracked a smile ( she could’ve tossed the shovel hard enough to crack his skull, but this lady was nice and she wouldn't ever try to kill someone without a good reason ), nodding once more.

“See, it’s all resolved, no need for anyone to get suspended!” 

Soon after they exited the room and the halls began to file in with other parents hurrying to pick up their children. Shota turned to the woman he still didn't know the name of to thank her.

“No need to thank me. Aizawa-san, I’m Bakugou Mitsuki, by the way.” she grinned, patting his shoulder aggressively, “Katsuki’s a loud kid, but he ain’t that bad. I’m sure he’ll apologize soon enough— that’s if he’s not going to insist on pestering Asuka-chan for a rematch.” Asuka surprisingly let Mitsuki tug at her cheeks without her I-will-bite-you gaze. “That was a nice shoulder throw you did there.”

“Shoulder throw?” his daughter was visibly avoiding his eyes now. 

“Oh yeah,” Mitsuki drawled, “did a real clean shoulder throw when Katsuki tugged her hair, I saw the CCTV footage while waiting for you ‘cos ‘zuku-chan said the fight was awesome.”

What?

Katsuki and Izuku came bickering along the hallway, back from retrieving their belongings. Mitsuki’s attention focused on them, hauling their hero merch bags, both having All Might’s face cringworthingly zoomed, and slung it over her shoulder, turning to leave, but not before directing a little wink at Asuka who flushed bright red. 

"Bye 'suka-chan! Bye Oji-san!" 

“I’ll fight ya some other day!” Katsuki’s voice echoed. He watched Mitsuki shake her head fondly before turning to walk over to Asuka’s classroom to retrieve her belongings. 

“A shoulder throw ?”

Asuka fumbled with his ponytail, “You have pretty hair, papa.” 

“Yeah, you’re not getting out of this one.”

*

Chapter Text

June 26th, 3096

“There’s plenty of space under the bed,” Asuka said, one cheek inflated from the lollipop she was suckling. 

Shota gave her an unimpressed stare, “Or we can just come back later.” 

“Of course, I know that!” his somehow not-diabetic daughter retorted, pulling out the mango lollipop from her mouth and pointing it towards the fifty percent off Twinkies. “But it’s on sale right now, papa, it's a win for everyone!” 

“I have enough money, and the only win someone gets is to eat sweets until their teeth rot.” 

She huffed, “It doesn't matter how much money you have if you're blowing off a sale."

He crouched down to her height, the heels of his boots touching the wheel of the cart he was shoving around, “I'm not blowing off a sale. We just don't need it right now."

“Kayama-oba says you're a miser." She pulled out an empty stick from her mouth, wearing a disappointed face. 

“Asuka, that’s not —” Sometimes he wondered what kind of crap his friends fed her when he wasn't around— "We’ll have this conversation later." There was too much to unpack from that topic, like how she wasn't supposed to be disappointed when Kayama's words turned out to be false. Did she even know what a miser meant? He picked her up to place her in the children’s compartment of his cart before thrusting it forward. 

Fortnightly, Saturday mornings were spent grocery shopping. Before Asuka, there wasn't much need for groceries. Maybe he would go out once a month and stock on enough ramen and mint ice cream to keep himself from having to go out frequently, other times Kayama and Hizashi would bring ingredients to make a ‘healthy’ meal, either way, he hardly went anywhere that wasn't school, his interning agency, and the patrols he was chronically assigned. But since Asuka enjoyed the outdoors as much as he preferred indoors, he figured there wasn't much to think about the matter. 

“Papa, why is ‘ur hero outfit black?” 

Asuka was also very talkative when she wanted to be. He kept pushing the cart as he swiped a bottle of olive oil from the rack, “It’s easier to blend in with the night.” 

“Then what about now ? It's not night time and you're still wearin' black.'' He felt the back of her head meet his chest before he grabbed two packs of Yakult milk. “Is black your favorite color? Is that why you were lots of black? Kayama-oba said her favorite color’s purple and ‘zashi-oji said his is magenta, I thought it'd be yellow or somethin’ but he doesn't wear lots of magenta like Kayama-oba wears purple.” Adjusting his hold so that her back wouldn't collide with the handle, he snagged a packet of salt and tossed it in the cart. 

His favorite color? He didn't think he favored black over other colors. He owned plenty of gray sweaters, and a countable amount of white shirts, then there was the rare suit he wore for special occasions, two slacks for similar reasons, and a plethora of black-sleeved shirts because they were on sale and were plenty comfortable. He also had a hideous yellow shirt tucked somewhere in the closet that he never planned on wearing, red and gray workout outfits, shorts, and pants in pale sets because they were also on sale. Sure his wardrobe entailed mostly of darker shades, but he wouldn't necessarily say he loved the color black to the point where it was his favorite color. The color he loved, was more vibrant , it wasn’t something he’d inherently wear, but it was more of… more of what it reminded him of. 

“But you know somethin’, papa?” Asuka spoke before he could answer, “Black’s not a color. I read that it's the absence of color or somethin’, so if that is your favorite color, then you should say it’s your favorite shade .” 

A smile tugged his lips. “Then it’s good that black isn't my favorite shade .”

At that, her head whipped at him, jeweled eyes bulging as her mouth gaped open. “Papa… just... why? ” She appeared frustrated. A prickle of confusion stabbed his back. 

“Why what?” He shot back, exiting the aisle and detouring to the counter with the least amount of people. 

She faced forward at that, mumbling incoherently. He caught on to ‘ lost ’ and the pieces suddenly fit together. 

“What’d you bet about this time?” 

She huffed, her legs swinging annoyedly, “Anmitsu once every week for the rest of the month.” 

He needed Kayama and Hizashi to stop encouraging stupid bets for sweets.

“Kayama-oba said there’s no way your favorite color would be black and she wouldn't tell me the reason and ‘zashi-oji said it was black because ‘ what other color would it be?!’ ,” Her impression of Hizashi was flawless to the point where he looked away from her expertly contoured face to mask a snort, “So now 'zashi-oji owes her money and I owe her a back massage, which isn't so bad , but…” she trailed off, peering at him, “But what is your favorite color?”

Right at that moment, the customer in front of him moved and he shoved his cart into the slot.

“Green,” he said, lending a hand to the cashier as he took out the products from the cart, “My favorite color is green.” 

He didn't see her expression because the cashier asked him whether he’d heard about the latest coupon promotion and he had politely accepted whatever card they gave him to fill, tucking it somewhere in his pocket to be forever forgotten. 

When the last of the items had been emptied, he picked up a weirdly buoyant Asuka and placed her on the ground. After the payment was confirmed, he gathered all the bags from the counter and held them in one hand, and Asuka’s in the other. 

“Papa,” Asuka called out to him

He hummed in answer and the sensor doors slid open, allowing them to exit the store. 

“ I love you. ” 

And she pulled her hands out of his, stumbling about in the opening and reaching where he parked his bicycle.

….why was that kid so random?

He followed after as if he didn't just pause for thirty seconds and piled the bags in the basket, hanging the ones he couldn't fit on the handle, all the while staring at the glowing face of his daughter who seemed to be too happy for someone who had lost her weekly anmitsu cups. He unlocked the bicycle and swept her off her feet to settle her in her seat. 

“I don't have a fever,” she narrowed her eyes at him, “If that’s what you're thinkin’.” 

"I know." Shota snorted, clasping the locks and tightening the straps. Then he ruffled her hair before kissing the top of her head, "And I love you too kiddo."

Asuka beamed.

He climbed on his seat, an overwhelmingly fuzzy warmth spreading inside his chest as he pedaled away to their home. 

26th August, 3096

Asuka loved Bakugou Mitsuki. She reminded her of a version of Tsunade. Commandeering, aggressive, illogical at times, a force to be reckoned with, and subjected her son to a variation of tough love more often than not. Now, compared to her, Midoriya Inko was a lovely ball of fluff. Sometimes . She could be pretty scary if she wanted to be like the time she found out about the trio managing to topple an entire sugar container during an unintended pillow fight and Asuka could see vague flashes of Kijo on her normally soft face. Heck even Katsuki tended to exert sweetness to a degree he didn't even express to his mother around her. 

“— Okay so I’m goin’ to be the hero ‘cos I’m the only one with a quirk right now, and Nerd’s going to be the civilian, and Time bomb, your role is goin’ to be the villain.”

“Why am I always the civilian?” 

“Yeah, and why am I always the villain?” 

Playdates were nothing uncommon. Normally, her father chaperoned these because both women worked during the day, but today, Mitsuki was hosting it in her backyard while they were being supervised by Masaru, Katsuki’s overly submissive father. The good thing about the Bakugou household was that they produced the most exquisite snacks which she often had a hard time pronouncing, and nothing was better than snacks after a long day of playing. 

“I just told you why!” Katsuki yelled defiantly, “ I’m the oldest and I have the coolest quirk, so right now, I’m the most fit to be the hero!” 

Ever since Katsuki got his quirk, his for-some-reason already inflated ego had taken a double roast and a deep fry, parading his pop rocks resembling quirk everywhere he went. Both he and Izuku had moved on to kindergarten, but she didn't have to inquire about Katsuki’s demeanor from Izuku to know he must have acquired quite the fan base to triple-fry his enlarging confidence, and while Izuku highly encourage this behavior, she wasn't amused. 

“A quirk isn't the only thing that makes you a hero.” Asuka snapped, folding her arms across her chest. “Empathy, modesty, kindness, fairness, humility— lots of other things are needed if you want to be a hero like All Might. You’ve been playing the hero every other time we played, and that’s hardly fair for the two of us.” She stomped a step forward to make her point and watched Katsuki flush. 

Izuku nodded aggressively. Katsuki’s cowardly father ducked behind the magazine he was reading. “But— I am— fine!” he reluctantly gave in, “You can be the hero in this round and I’ll… I’ll play the villain,” he said as if it burned his tongue.

Asuka wondered what was so bad about playing the villain. 

“Izuku can be the hero,” she said, not caring to play the hero part. 

The sizable backyard was turned upside down within hours of the play. Turns out, villain Katsuki was just as determined as hero Katsuki to quintessentially exhibit his role and did everything in his power to make Hero Izuku’s attempts to save her futile. By the time they decided to call it quits, both boys were sweating from head to toe, and she was also drenched because she had happened to be perched up in the stuffy tree house while waiting for Izuku to save her. 

Mitsuki made them take a bath right after that, coaxing her into some uni-sex clothes Katsuki had which were unsurprisingly big on her. Then they were seated around the warm lighted dining room with perfectly cut sandwiches, fist-sized cookies, and warm milk. 

“Kacchan, you should be the villain next time too,” Izuku said, munching on a sandwich, spilling crumbs all over his shirt. 

Katsuki didn't blow up at that, “Well, I did make a good one, didn't I?”

“And Asuka-chan should be a side-kick, bein’ civilian is no fun.” The green-haired boy continued.

Picking up an egg sandwich, she bit half of it in one bite. He was right about that, she was a sitting duck this time while both of them played an aggressive game of tag. She nodded, showing her approval of the suggestion. “Oh right, I got this cool clip of All Might saving five people at once—” and she listened to the rest while finishing half the things they didn't care to touch. 

If she was being truth full, she didn't get all the hype around that man. What was so special about a man clad in colorful spandex with super strength? Tsunade had super strength, she had super strength, and both Guy and Rock Lee were also forced to be reckoned with. And enhanced-strength type quirks were relatively normal from what she found out. 

She wasn't dissing them for idolizing a hero, plenty of kids their age did that. But even though she liked Edgeshot, she didn't adhere to worshiping him as both Katsuki and Izuku did. Liking Edgeshot was one thing, and purchasing items with his face was an entirely different thing, but she was a three-year-old child and couldn't afford to lose the few strands of ‘ I’m a perfectly sane child with the memories lasting from the time I spent in my darling mother’s womb’ tightly grasped within her fingers. She knew her father and Kayama and Hizashi thought her to be weird, but all children were weird in some sense, right? 

“— you just see Kacchan, I’m goin’ to get a really cool quirk, maybe a variation of both fire breathing and telekinesis, or just telekinesis. I don't have much workin’ over Tou-chan’s quirk, but fire breathing sounds pretty cool too. You know, I think Kaa-chan’s quirk could be terrifying if she decided to be a hero, and she has the type of quirk that just grows stronger with every usage. Kaa-chan’s too much of a law-abider, which is a good thing, but one time she took me to the park and this nii-san’s frisbee was coming my way and she managed to throw it off like a million meters away from the park. She apologized lots of times for that though, and the nii-san didn't take it to heart ‘cos I almost got hit.”  

“Inko-oba’s awesome.” Katsuki acknowledged, nodding promptly. 

She grabbed two cookies from the plate. That she was. 

“Hey nerd, are you gettin’ any pre-jitters these days? Like a funny feeling behind your neck or tingling in your palm?” 

She downed half of the milk and chewed her way through a third cookie. 

Izuku shook his head, his fluff of green swaying like trees lulling to the wind. “Nothing like that. Kaa-chan says not everyone gets the pre-jitters during their first few months, you were really lucky, Kacchan.” 

Katsuki puffed his chest like a peacock and said words contradicting his actions. “It’s alright, the important thing is, we’ll both become heroes together!” 

Ah, children were so precious. She finished the rest of her milk and produced a loud burp.

“Sorry, Time bomb, even if your battle moves are kick-ass, you’re like a year younger than us, so we can't become heroes together.” his voice was uncannily soft so she decided against telling him what was on the tip of her tongue. 

“But we’ll be waiting for you to catch up!” Izuku cheered. 

“I'm not so sure 'bout that.” she shot back haughtily, a teasing smile splayed on her face. 

Izuku laughed and Katsuki rolled his eyes. Then not even two minutes later they were screaming at her for—

“You intolerable foodie! Cough up all the damn cookies!” 

“Asuka-chan, that was so not cool! We barely had two bites!” 

She shrugged, “No one told you guys to rave about All Might during tea time.” 

February 28th, 3097

The bed was clad in simple white sheets, a jungle green comforter neatly folded at the end with plenty of pillows stacked against the headboard— plenty of pillows not entailing the plushies of slugs and hawks and Edgeshot and foxes with wide grins. It wasn't pushed to a corner like his other one either, instead, it was in the middle. 

There was no wardrobe, but a walk-in closet a couple of meters left from the view of the bed hung with his clothes and not looking quite as packed as he expected it to— no pinks or yellows or pales or sparkles, just his dark shades of clothes, boots and hero equipment.  

Right next to it was the door leading to a bathroom, void of the white tiles he was accustomed to and replaced with a Maya blue, an odd-looking bowl for a sink in substitute for his common pedestal one, and a spacy cupboard right under the counter holding the sink, supplied with bottles of shampoo, shower gel, shaving cream, toothpaste, and toilet paper. Towels hung in the loops and bars, the shower curtain taken down as soon as he started on repacking because it rattled too much for his liking, the toothbrush holder on the wall contained a sole white toothbrush with a new tube of toothpaste— missing a bright red toothbrush next to it. 

There was no dresser table either, just a side table next to his bed and another rectangular, rosewood table that had a fluffy-looking chair pushed inside it, his laptop, rare cosmetics, and porcelain, handleless mug filled with hair bands were the only things he organized on the table. 

The room was bare, so bare that he was getting irked by the second. He pushed himself off the bed and landed his feet on the gray vinyl floor, seemingly laid to complement the Mauve painted on the walls— so, so different from the dark beige carpet and the misty walls— gripping one side of the bed, he pushed it against the wall with no effort and gave similar treatment to the side table keeping his phone plugged into charge. 

Much better. 

“Sho, are you done?!” Hizashi’s voice resounded, 

Footsteps thudded the gray flooring and Hizashi’s face peeked from the door, his lazy bun toppling to his forehead from the way he hung from the doorway. “Wow! Good job on repacking— Asuka-chan’s almost done too, she’s very intent on organizing her book sayin’ they had to be in alphabetical order,'' Hizashi laughed.

Shota’s mouth stretched into an amused smile, “Anyways, Kayama’s settin’ the table, so get somethin’ in your system before we start on the living room and the kitchen.” 

“I’ll be there.” he agreed, and Hizashi went as soon as he came. 

Stopping at the opened door near the start of the hallway, he leaned on the frame and observed the girl who was intently shoving books on her shelf. “Papa, two of my books are missing,” she said without looking up, “and it’s not in the rest of the boxes.” 

“I'll stop by there later,” he said, eyes going over the intricately organized room. Yellow daffodil walls highlight the white furniture of the room, her bed neatly made from where he stood, covered with a plethora of plushies. The connecting ladder which led to the bed was designed with little flowers, all different shades of yellow and intertwined in a swirl, painted on one side and twirling to the bottom. Probably Kayama’s work.

Under the bed was a spacey cupboard, all her clothes arranged color-wise, boots stacked tidily, her bags arranged in some kind of hanger hanging with cloth boxes, courtesy of Hizashi, he presumed. Next to the convenient bed was a table, a pine table adorned with her school books, a cerulean lamp, a stationery holder with Edgeshot doing his dumb signature move, and a tablet that she rarely used. 

The bookshelf was conveniently next to her study table, Asuka still crouching over her books with a frown marred on her face, opposite to that was the bathroom, the door similarly designed as the ladder, except this one was painted as a floral wreath. Alongside the bathroom door was her dresser, filled with too many things he lacked. 

“Okay.” her reply came to him, her twin tails brushing along her back as her head turned to regard him. Then they both exited the sunny room to cross the living room, reaching for the four-chair dining table to eat the take-out Kayama organized. 

“You know what? I think it’s time I moved too.” Hizashi commented, ripping a naan into half and dipping it in butter chicken.  

Kayama snorted, “How many times have you said that in the last few years?”

“Hey, I might live with my kaa-chan, but at least I still know the basic skills for livin’” he threw back, plopping an extra piece of butter chicken in his mouth, and chewing excessively slowly to prove his point. 

Shota knew where this was heading. 

“There are more important things than knowing how to cook!”

“It ain’t only about the cookin’!” 

“What, you expect to cook just because I'm a woman ?!”

“Don't put words in my mouth!” 

“But that’s sure as hell what you’re insinuating.” 

“I didn't insinuate anythin’!! You’re the one shitting on me for living with my kaa-chan!” 

“How dare you—”

“Shitty cook!” 

“Shitty glasses!” 

“Says you — ”

“Can you both shut up and eat?” Shota demanded. 

Both adults huffed at each other before returning to their food. Shota tore a palm-sized naan, placing half of it on Asuka’s empty plate. 

There was a short silence for a while, a comfortable one despite both his friends' stupid squabble before—

“I have a question,” Asuka said, blinking up at him. Then shifted her gaze to Kayama who tilted her head, and Hizashi who raised his brows as if to encourage her.  “What happens to quirkless people?” 

A tense silence spread. 

....why was she asking that? Did something happen at school? But it hadn't even been more than a month since she turned four, why was she worrying about not having a quirk? But the way she said, What happens to quirkless people? She was a fourth-generation kid, the likelihood of them being quirkless was second to none… and yeah he knew the fate of some people— kids, teenagers, and rarely adults with the same circumstances, and...and all of them needed severe help because the society didn't treat them right for things they couldn't control.

“...is there a context to this question?” Kayama’s voice brought him out of his thoughts. 

The hurt in her eyes didn't go unnoticed by any of them. 

“Is someone bullying you, Firefly?” Hizashi questioned gently. 

She twisted the hem of her shirt, “I don’t think I was supposed to hear this, but Utano-baa and Yumena-nee were talkin’ about how Nanami-nee killed herself.'' Her glassy eyes met Shota’s, and his insides twisted. “They were really sad that they didn't notice anything wrong with her because they knew she was quirkless, but... but what does being quirkless have to do with anything? It doesn't make sense that she killed herself because she was quirkless and... and I just thought she was on a vacation because she hadn't been comin’ in recently.” Shota saw the fear stream in her eyes, fear so palpable and vulnerable that made his heart unsettled. 

He stretched his hand and smoothed over back.

“Papa,” she said it so lowly that he barely heard it, “if being quirkless means you’re going to kill yourself someday, does that mean Izuku’s going to kill himself too?” 

“ What? ” he said before he could stop himself.

“Izuku, papa, Izuku is quirkless, and I don't want him to die— ”

“No, no, no, Firefly.” Hizashi took over, taking her hand in his as he made her look at him, “You know what being quirkless is, don’t you?” he questioned first. Asuka nodded. Shota pulled back his hand and wiped it over his shorts, rubbing off the accumulating sweat.

“Then you must also know that there’s only a very little percentage in Japan that holds that status?” Asuka nodded this time too. 

Hizashi’s face twisted into a wounded expression, “Then did you know that they’re not treated that kindly?” 

“Why?”

“Because people are assholes.” 

“Kayama!” 

She wasn't wrong.

“What? It’s true.” Kayama stated, her underlying anger was unmissed. She regarded Asuka with a softer gaze. “Listen, hun. Quirkless people get bullied, they get abused, suicide baited, ostracised, and most of them don't even reach adulthood because they either pass from killing themselves, or someone else kills them because they think quirkless people are beneath living and breathing the same air as them.” Kayama exhaled deeply, oddly looking as if she was about to cry.

“I was a late bloomer.” she said, “An extremely late bloomer. I got my quirk at the age of seven.” she laughed mirthlessly, one which made Hizashi wince. “ Kami did I get shit for that.” Kayama didn't elaborate, leaning in so that she was near Asuka. “Your Nanami-nee may have stuck out till adulthood, and she was a damn strong woman for doing so, but people are quirkist and that’s the reality.” 

There was silence for a while. Asuka’s green orbs were eerily vacant of emotions, and Hizashi hadn't let go of her hands, but the grip hadn't slackened. 

“Okay,” she said finally, voice firm and unwavering. “Nanami-nee died because people are quirkist assholes, and Izuku isn't going to because I’ll protect him.” 

The tension in his chest dispersed, replaced with a large bout of pride. Hizashi smiled brightly, conveying just how precious her words were, and Kayama’s expression was soft, a light smile etched on her face. 

“No swearing.” Hizashi reprimanded gently, squeezing her hands and patting her shoulder. 

“Butt hole.” 

A muffled squawk escaped Kayama before she was looking the other way. 

“That isn't any—” 

“Excretion hole. Anus.” 

Shota tugged her ear, “Okay, smart ass, now eat your food.” 

The ambiance took a lighter turn from there. Asuka heartily ate the naan, dipping it with another curry that had goat meat. Hizashi chatted loudly about a new side-kick that joined their agency who had the ‘coolest donkey imitation’ he had yet to see, and Kayama was not entirely enthusiastic, and her jabs at Hizashi were weaker than normal, but he supposed she’d be alright. 

*

It was when they were tidying up that the next question of interest rose.

“Isn't Izuku still four years old?” Hizashi asked absentmindedly, shoving dirty paper plates into a plastic bag.

Asuka, who was helping with transporting the leftover into Kayama’s hand, slowed her pace to the kitchen, “He’s turning five in July. Why?” 

Hizashi hummed, “‘cos the kid might be a late bloomer, he still has a few months left, why do you think he’s quirkless?” he snagged the rest of the used utensils and pushed them inside the bag, regarding Asuka with a curious gaze as he tied the bag.

Shota closed the tub of leftover saag paneer and waited till Asuka made her way to him. “Because his okaa-san took him to the hospital,” she answered simply, taking the containing from him. “Katsuki got his quirk just a few weeks after he turned four and Izuku said he told his okaa-san to take him to the hospital ‘cos he wasn’t even getting the pre-jitter thingamajig before kids got their quirks.” She handed it to Kayama, snatching a packet of vanilla milk from the fridge right before Kayama closed it. 

“He has two joints in his pinky.” she poked a hole in her packet, unbeknownst to the barely tangible dismay that took over Hizashi’s face, and Kayama’s evident flinch. “And his appendix is still intact.” 

Oh. 

The boy wasn't even a late bloomer.  

In rare cases did double jointed individuals developed a quirk, but the appendix was supposed to diminish months after a child turned one, and never had anyone ever sprouted a quirk after discovering a fully sound appendix. 

“Izuku hasn't told Katsuki ‘bout it though, he thinks Katsuki will be disappointed in him ‘cos they both decided to be heroes together and now he can’t, which is bull excretion!” (bullshit)

Shota didn't say language, but he did give her a pointed glare. Not that she noticed because she was walking back and forth in a frustrated manner and sucking on the straw till it started to produce glitches. “Izuku can be who he wants to be regardless of some appendix or stupid toe joint! Why can’t he be a quirkless hero?” her gaze intensified on Shota and he blinked, “Don't you fight quirkless anyways, papa? And Izuku is plenty smart.” (smart than most halfwits, but she decided against saying it out loud) “And if Katsuki turns out to be a two-faced lizard who can’t accept his best friend for who he is then I’m going to—” and she was gathered into familiar soft arms, a head nudging against hers. 

“God you’re so precious , Asuka.” Kayama chuckled, rubbing her cheek against the four-year-old’s.

Hizashi sniffed, “She grew up so fast!” and Shota felt Hizashi hug his waist, burying his head into his stomach. 

That she did. He patted the other man's head gingerly, nostalgia filling his heart as he witnessed Kayama snuggling his daughter. She was small before, barely weighing anything, screaming at him for bottles. Now she was over three feet and angry over the reality of her friend being subjected to prejudice.

She was growing up to be a fine kid.

March 5th, 3097

It was a beautiful day, birds were chirping, trees were rustling to a gentle breeze, squirrels tittered outside their burrows, the overgrown grass tickled her shin, a stray cat was tending to her litter of kittens, and Katsuki looked close to having a seizure. 

“You— q-quirkless - what? That doesn't make any sense— how can— you’re fucking lying , this has to be a joke— Izuku, you can’t just not have a quirk!” Asuka watched as he stuttered words of bamboozlement, his face twisted to extreme confusion and denial as Izuku looked close to tears. 

Here in the unkempt fields is where Izuku introduced them to a not-so-secret base where they could play and spend their days lazily. Here she read books at leisure without interruption. Here she debated about quirks with Izuku while Katsuki called them nerds. Here she managed to beat Katsuki every time he insisted on fighting. Here they played heroes and tag with the many neighborhood kids. 

“I-It’s true, Kacchan, I don’t have one. I’ll n-never have one.” Izuku said, voice brittle. 

“No.” Katsuki said, “No, no, no, this has to be a lie— there's no way you’re quirkless— you can't be quirkless!” 

“I don't want to be quirkless either!” Izuku screamed back.

Her heart tugged for him as she patted his shaking back, wordlessly comforting him.

“But…but— how’re we going to be heroes if you don't have a quirk?” Katsuki questioned, his voice holding despondency, ruby eyes staring at Izuku with mixed emotions. 

Izuku smiled despite the tears in his eyes, “We can still be heroes, Kacchan, I… I just won't have a quirk, but that’s fine, right? I could be the f-first quirkless hero—”

“You can’t be a hero if you’re quirkless!” Katsuki bellowed, anger pouring out of his tone. Asuka felt Izuku lean into her touch more than before, blatant hurt overtaking the forced happiness within moments. “There’s no such thing as a quirkless hero! You can’t be a hero anymore dammit, all you are now is some Deku— ”

“Asuka-chan!” 

Her fist collided with his face, making him slip over a root prodding from the ground. “Call him that again and I guarantee you won't have teeth by the time I’m done with you.” 

If this was the usual brawl, he would be jumping up to his feet and aiming a punch which she would conveniently dodge, but he just stared at her with incensed eyes, cupping his cheek which took the blow of her punch. “He is a Deku, he doesn't have a fucking quirk so that makes him a Deku .” 

Her second punch was only stopped due to Izuku’s tearful interference. 

“Fuck you and your shallow friendship, Bakugou Katsuki.” she spat, glaring at him with all the hate she could muster up. 

There was a time she was blind to prejudice, too happy living in her head to focus on anything around herself, but she wasn't the same as before. She wasn’t four-year-old Haruno Sakura, she was four-year-old Aizawa Asuka and she’d be damned if she let her friend get shit on for something as trivial as not having a stupid quirk. “Izuku will be a hero. The first ever quirkless hero and he’ll outrank you, or any other shitty fuck face who’s got to say otherwise, and he’s not going to stay here and listen to you any longer just because you happened to be his best friend— which you aren't now, I’m sure, from the way you just berated him.” 

“I get that you’re hurt and confused because you think your dreams aren’t reachable anymore, but have you ever wondered how Izuku must’ve felt? How he was feeling when he was diagnosed as quirkless? How he was feeling when his dreams crashed before his eyes all because he has double-jointed toes and a useless appendix?! Have you ever once put aside your feelings and considered him? Have you ever stopped to think that calling him deku is the worst thing you can do right now?” The freckled boy’s sniffs made it into her ears, and her glare intensified on the defiant boy sitting on the ground. 

“Shut the hell up!” Katsuki screamed, pushing himself off the ground, “Quirkless people can’t be heroes and you can’t change my mind! Izuku can’t be a hero if he’s only going to end up dying! ” 

Oh .

Something clicked in her mind. Something that made her expression melt off from raging anger to uncommitted blank. She took a step towards the enraged boy, one which easily made Izuku tighten his hold on her forearm, but she tugged him along with her, stopping only once till she and Katsuki were an adult-sized palm away from each other. 

“What? You’re going to hit me again?” the blond squawked, and she knew he wasn't feeling as confident as his words because his fists were shaking beside him. 

She whacked his head to confirm his claim. “If you’re worried for him stop blurting out stupid shit.” 

He opened his mouth, but she cut him off before he could speak. “I don't care what you think. Izuku said he wants to be a hero then he will be a hero if he changes his mind and wants to be an accountant, then he’ll be an accountant, and if he wants to be the president, then he’ll be the fucking president, you and I have no right to tell him what he should or shouldn't be just because we have quirks and he doesn't. No matter how dangerous it might be for him, Izuku’s the one who can decide what he wants to do with his life. We’re supposed to support him, that’s what friends do. And you better start acting like a good one before Izuku passes out from crying.” 

“I'm n-n-not cry-cryin’” 

“And I fart butterflies.”  

Shortly after, Asuka witnessed history’s most bashful apology, having to stifle a laugh when Izuku hugged a flustered Katsuki with tears and snot lacing every inch of his face. 

On the way home, she bought snacks with her allowance. 

“H-hey Asuka-chan.” Izuku called out with a hoarse voice, “Earlier you said we have quirks, does that mean you got yours too?” 

Katsuki’s gaze flickered at her and she noticed the developing bruise on his baby skin. Asuka bit her ice cream. “I meant ‘we’ as in the general population. I don’t have a quirk.” she answered simply, then halted Katsuki by pulling the scruff of his shirt. 

“What the hell are you—” he shut up when her free hand grazed over the cheek she punched earlier. Izuku ceased his walking next to him, curiously peering at why Asuka was fondling the other boy’s cheek. 

Then she stopped, striding along the uncrowded pavement as if nothing happened and Izuku stared at his friend's cheek in awe, “Kacchan, your bruise.” his eyes glimmered, “It’s gone. ” 

“Oh yeah,” Katsuki said, jutting his tongue at the injured cheek, “It doesn't hurt anymore.” 

“I don't think Asuka-chan knows she has a quirk,” Izuku said, licking the side of his ice cream.

“Or she knows and she’s fuckin’ with us.” he retorted, biting off a large portion of his popsicle. 

Izuku giggled, “That does seem more like her.” 

September 13th, 3097

No one in the world knew everything, and that applied to Asuka as well. There were still many terms she was foreign to despite the mingling she did with her year mates. Katsuki and his mother were also another source of learning in areas her father wouldn't quite like. Inko’s bookshelf was filled with a plethora of educational books and she made sure to inhale the words when she could. Izuku’s journals were another source despite his less-than-neat handwriting. 

This particular knowledge, though, she acquired when she went about on an innocent stroll to the convenience store she frequented to purchase her daily dose of sweets. 

Now, normally Asuka minded her own business when faced with flamboyant strangers, but this one was hard to ignore. The woman had bright pink hair, brighter than the shade she had in her previous life, her face was a pretty heart shape, her brows were lined sharply, and her almond eyes were a flaming orange radiating a glow that should’ve been hard to accomplish during the day with the sun blazing about. 

Her nose was straight, cheeks were perfectly peachy, and plump lips painted in a bold shade of black, somehow achieving to compliment the ostentatious golds and bronze of her eyelids. That was only her face. Albeit having dressed much more modestly compared to her face with a simple, white, halter neck dress that reached her mid-thigh, her handbag was an entirely different matter. Asuka didn't know whether they were real or not, but she did have to blink several times because the gems on the bag were making her eyes hurt. Despite all of that, what made her stop and stare was the huge wad of cash she was fanning herself with, her elegantly manicured fingers holding the money as if it were dealing with cards. 

“What’re you staring at?” she had asked, a smug grin tugging at her face as if she wasn't announcing people nearby to rob her. 

Asuka didn't answer because she couldn't possibly say ‘I’m staring at you because you stick out like a sore thumb.’ So she promptly turned to leave after dipping her head respectfully, but the lady decided to call her out. 

“You’re curious, aren't you? About how I came to possess this much money.” The lady huffed like a peacock, and she didn't know how to relay that she wasn't curious at all. Just a little concern for her overall well-being. “It’s all right, I’ll tell you. But I can’t assure you that you can find the same success I did, because, well, you’re a kid.” Her long lashes fluttered haughtily, expertly snapping her innovative cash fan in a single file. “The answer is—” 

“What’s a sugar baby?” Asuka inquired, blinking up at the adults in the room as she ceased her coloring. The answer the lady gave her wasn't the least bit satisfying. What the heck did being a sugar baby mean? And why did that profession earn so much money? It made no sense. Though judging by the way Hizashi appeared horrified, Kayama seemed highly amused, and her father only blinked at the question, she decided the answer must be something extremely unfitting to the name given to it. 

“...it’s someone who's involved in a type of... transactional dating, commonly between old rich people and a younger person in need of financial aid.” her father chose his words carefully, cutting the suspenseful silence. "Might include normal dating, sexual favors or—

“SHO!” 

“What? It’s not like there’s a nicer word for ‘ sexual ’.” 

“You think that’s the problem?!” 

“You’re right, Sho, you should’ve used the words ‘ intimate ’ or ‘ erotic ’, it’s much more appropriate than sexual.”

“What the hell is wrong with the both of you?!” 

Well, that wasn't the answer she was expecting. A sugar baby was essentially a prostitute then. Still, that was a weird choice of words for something so simple. She voiced her concern which made Hizashi’s frazzled expression turn a notch up high. 

“Okay— how the hell do you know that word?!” 

“Language.” she reprimanded jokingly. 

"It’s different.” her father answered, unsurprisingly calm. He always told her what she wanted to know. “They normally stick to one rich individual. Why the sudden questions?” 

She told them a short and sweet version of her encounter, watching their faces turn slightly ugly. Then decided none of them were going to talk before she picked up a lively pink color pencil to fill in a pair of shoes. 

Pink was a nice color.

Pink was also a color that was strongly tied to her past life. Pink held many memories she kept near to her heart. Pink was feminine. Pink was what her hair used to be, a lovely pink. She turned pink easily when Sasuke used to sneer at her, something which she easily deluded herself to think was his way of paying attention to her. 

She turned the same pink when Naruto consistently asked for dates which irked her. She turned pink whenever Lee declared his love for her with no shame whatsoever, and he was a sweet guy, he really was, but she wasn't ready for any sort of romantic relationship, not after… well, not after the outcome of loving an emotionally stunted boy who had a phone pole stuck up his ass. 

Or so she thought . Her heart and head never really agreed on the same thing. 

“What’s got you so pissed this time?”

Sakura lunged at him, taking him back by two steps as she buried her head between the junction of his neck, inhaling his scent to keep herself calm. 

“Tsunade-sama?” 

She grumbled something and his hand smoothed over back, simultaneously stepping back with her as she heard the door shut. 

“Well, it comes with the apprentice package.” 

“She,” Sakura detached from the hug, staring up at amused brown eyes with her unamused ones, “ screamed at me for a typo , a simple fucking typo, and it wasn't even my job! She’s the Hokage dammit! Why am I always doing her job?!” 

He snorted, “Mentors are all pain in the ass.” 

She stomped off to his kitchen with a huff, opening the fridge door with more force than necessary, and snagged the first thing in sight which happened to be a nearly empty jar of pickles. 

She took a seat near the kitchen counter and he joined her, offering a pair of chopsticks. 

“Sakura, file these by the end of the day! Sakura, memorize this book which I’m just going to spontaneously quiz you on! Sakura, stop nagging me! Sakura, review my pile of patients because I have a hangover—” she stabbed her chopsticks into the opened jar, angrily biting on the pickle, “She’s my S hishou , and by god do I have an immense amount of respect for her, but— fuck!" she screamed, then swallowed it down before taking another bite of the sour delicacy. 

He patted her back wordlessly, nodding to her plight. 

She finished the remaining two pickles in the jar before shoving the empty container to the side. “How long till they put you back on the mission roster?” 

He sighed heavily, head lolling to the side as his palm supported his face. “Not long enough.” 

“Yeah, as if the three weeks off isn't enough.” 

He rolled his eyes, “I’m equally overworked as you, Sakura.” 

She grinned, throwing an arm around his broad shoulders, “That we are, aren't we? Too bad I don't get to take three weeks off.” 

He smiled minutely, “You could always get half your lungs blown off.” 

“Joke about that and I’ll puncture your lungs myself.” 

"Just do as he says!" 

“That would be troublesome.” 

“Take your troublesome and shove it up your ass —”

His laugh echoed, “Don’t worry, I’ll try my best not to end up in your ER.” 

“ASUKA! ASUKA-CHAN? DO YOU HEAR ME?”

Her hand slipped to his waist and her hold tightened. “You better—” 

“WHAT IS HAPPENING TO HER?”

“I don't know!” her father’s voice made it into her ear, though it barely did over her splitting headache— why did she have a headache?

“Kayama—”

“I called, they’re on their way.” 

“Asuka, honey, you need to tell me what’s going on!” 

What escaped her was an ear-splitting scream.

She couldn't make heads or tails of what was going on, her head was a raging storm, pulling and pulling and pulling from a source she could not make sense of, it throbbed palpably, robbing her of her vision as a blur of yellows and whites and blacks was all she could comprehend before the pull snapped , her vision diminishing entirely. 

*

Chapter Text

13th September, 3097

It was a normal day.

That normal morning he woke up at eight three, washed up, and ambled over to knock on Asuka’s door, finding her leg hanging off the railing of her bed, He’d tug at her leg while she grumbled about five more minutes before she sat up straight and glared at him like a ruffled potoo bird with her shoulder length hair sticking out in all sorts of wild twists. 

He’d gone off to prepare breakfast after that, cooking up miso soup, reheating the leftover fish from dinner, and making steaming fresh rice before Asuka had trudged over to the dining table, clad in her uniform that he pressed last night. She’d asked what he made for lunch that day like usual, and he gave her an answer which happened to be chicken fried rice with baby carrots on the side. She’d hum if it was to her liking, and scrunch her nose if it wasn't, either way, the lunch box always came empty. 

It was normal when he walked her to the kindergarten afterward, Asuka humming a tune that Hizashi often sang while both of them strode along the mildly busy pavements. Her teacher greeted him with the same enthusiasm as she always did, and he’d crouch down and tell Asuka not to cause trouble, fully knowing those words fell on deaf ears. She’d kiss him on both cheeks, zealously yelling ‘bye Papa! ’ as she disappeared into the classroom. 

He executed his normal routine after coming home, doing laundry, vacuuming, mopping, dusting, washing dishes after preparing lunch, and finally, hanging the clothes out in his yard. He also had a visitor that day, which was also normal because said visitor had been gracing his home for the past two months, and as annoying as Shota found it, he had more respect for his high school principal than to just tell him to fuck off. 

“Are you still opposed, Shota-kun?” 

And as usual, Shota would say: “Yes.” 

Then the mouse would dilly-dally in his home and leave after approximately forty-four minutes after his visit. Shota would contemplate why Nedzu was so intent on pushing him to be a teacher of all things when he was struggling with a mere four-year-old who sometimes didn't even seem like a four-year-old. 

Nedzu's reason was viable in some way for wanting his admission in the U.A. as a staff, underground studies were, more or less, weaker than their usually offered ones. Shota wouldn't go as far as to say they sucked , but they could use an improvement. But that didn't mean the evil genius had to recruit him, there were plenty of eligible underground heroes capable of providing adequate teaching other than him . 

After a long contemplation and an empty jug of coffee, he’d always reach the same conclusion he conveyed to Nedzu, then he’d be off to collect his child who thankfully didn't cause any trouble that required a phone call to him. Asuka would tell him all the highlights of the day on the way home, which was blowing away everyone with her musical skills ( her trumpet skills were the most ear-grating thing next to Hizashi’s ‘I’mfuckingastounded’ voice ), learning planets names ( he was sure she knew more than eight planets with all the unconventional books she surrounded herself with ), and approaches to stranger danger.

He didn’t have to remind her to stack her uniform in the hamper because she always did, and they’d have lunch together while they watched whatever caught their attention on t.v, which had happened to be a reindeer documentary. She helped him tidy up, then he would bring over his laptop to the living room where she often completed her homework, homework which she never had trouble completing despite her average grades. 

A comfortable silence would settle between them, him clicking away the reports he had yet to submit, Asuka scribbling away at her books. And since his shift started at midnight that day, he didn't have to remind her to dress up for Night Care. Asuka finished her work earlier than he did, asking him permission to go to Izuku's house which was only two blocks away. She had beamed when he said yes and had stuffed all her books inside her yellow bag before throwing them on the sofa, and rushing to the front door.

She left at four-fifty six and returned when it was nearing six. He knew from the pink stain on her sleeve that she bought a snack along the way, but didn't say anything because that was normal. Perfectly normal. Kayama and Hizashi dropping by his house after a lengthy day at work was also normal. Then helping him make dinner was also normal. A quiet gathering where everyone did their own thing; Hizashi zealously tapping away at his phone, Kayama doodling on a paper along with Asuka who was neatly coloring in her coloring book, and himself browsing through teaching courses was normal. ( what he was doing wasn’t )

Then Asuka asked about what a sugar baby was and he pondered where or how she heard it before giving her a perfectly sensible answer to which Hizashi thought otherwise. It wasn't like Shota wanted to raise her oblivious to her surroundings; the importance of not following a random person because Japan’s dwindling crime rates didn't mean every criminal activity was coming to halt, sexual assaults targeted at minors, the concept of consent, the line between becoming a bully and a friendly brawl, the prejudice subjected to the minorities, the latter topic being quite recently brushed every since Izuku came out as quirkless— they were all topics he broached over with her. She was four years old, a child still, but he’d rather let his daughter be aware of the imminent dangers than let her be oblivious to it. 

He was a pro hero, a precarious career as much as it was worthwhile, and most people that accompanied him were involved in the same profession, whether he liked it or not, his daughter was bound to be in danger at some point in her life. And as much as Hizashi disapproved of his methods, Asuka didn't seem the least bit ruffled when he addressed those issues, nodding at him in understanding as if he just explained the meanings of words she pointed out in her books. 

When Asuka mentioned that the lady who presented her with such useful information suggested that Asuka would be successful in such a profession if she weren’t a child, he felt silent rage swelling in him. As dense as he was sometimes at parenting, even he knew not to say such careless things. How dare someone advocate that his child would ever be poor enough to beg some rich fart for money? While he was seething inwardly, the light sound of a pencil hitting the floor echoed and his sensitive ears twitched, attention redirecting to his daughter.  

Her eyes had been blank. She was staring downwards at her coloring book, but from his lazy slouch, the sparkling green eyes were void of their life, and something itched at his mind, aggressively and intently as he remembered the same expression. 

Once when she was coaxing him to buy a burger ( he first thought she was sulking ), the other time when he was late to pick her up at the Night Care and she was staring at him, but not at him , and then Utano appeared in front of him demanding him to at least give a phone call before he came in late while he explained the nature of his emergency, by the time Utano was huffing, content with his explanation, Asuka was in his arms, a smile on her face, and eyes iridescent once more ( he made sure to not let her out of his sight for the rest of the day ).

And now, a third time. She was wearing the same, eerie expression that had no business to settle on a child’s face, much less his daughter who had already been through enough.

That wasn't normal. 

He tossed his phone and slammed a hand on the table, startling Hizashi and Kayama. But she remained unresponsive. Then to his unadulterated horror, proceeded to fall off the stool she was sitting on, saved from her head colliding when Kayama caught her midway. 

“What the fuck was that?” Hizashi looked at him wide-eyed. 

“Is she having a seizure?!” Hizashi questioned next, more frantic as the girl lay still in his hands, emerald eyes still cloudy. “But this ain’t what a seizure looks like— Asuka, Asuka-chan!— goddammit Shota! What's wrong with her?!” 

Wordlessly, he pushed the table aside and ambled over to his daughter’s limp body. She snapped out of these on her own. He shook her till it happened one time and the other time he didn't see because Utano was in the way— think rationally, rationally, panicking won’t get him anywhere — “Scream.” he said to the frazzled man.

“What?”

“Scream. Use your quirk, call her out.”

“Fine.” he agreed, inhaling deeply. “ASUKA! ASUKA-CHAN? DO YOU HEAR ME?”

A twitch.

“ASUKA-CHAN? ASUKA-CHAN?!—” 

Her face scrunched and her eyes blinked rapidly, shifting in Kayama’s hold. Relief flooded him, albeit short-lived. Ivory skin was flushing rapidly, and even if she hadn't said a word despite being back in the present, the pain on her face was evident. 

“What is happening to her?”

He didn't know. He didn't fucking know. This didn't happen the last few times— “I don't know— Kayama—”

“I called, they're on their way.”

Hizashi had asked her what was wrong, diminishing his quirk and using a soft, lulling voice. She opened her mouth and screeched . Squirming in Kayama’s hold as Asuka tugged her hair. Fear rose inside him, fear so palpable that he reached for her, and before he even had the chance to do something— anything , her scream cut off, eyes rolling back, laying limp in Kayama’s hand once more.

The next few minutes were a blur. Paramedics showed up, asking them what happened. Asuka was rushed inside an ambulance. The doctors checked her vitals, mumbling something stupid about nothing seeming to be wrong with her. Him arguing otherwise. Asuka being admitted. Tests upon tests, all of which came normal. His patrol was forgotten. Then Hizashi was nudging a water bottle against his face, Kayama was on the other chair, intently focusing on an unconscious Asuka, and they stayed at the hospital for hours, until it was 3:06 am and Asuka woke up.

*

Hizashi tried to remain calm in the majority of the situations he faced. When Kayama was riled enough to be snapping at people behind two-way mirrors, he made sure to placate the situation. 

When Shota called about a baby being left on the doorstep, Hizashi tried to remain calm and logical despite his other half wanting to scream. But when his heart jolted at Shota banging on the table out of nowhere while wearing a troubled face, a face directed at his daughter and Hizashi’s niece in all but blood, he let his screaming side win. 

And it did not help his rising panic that Shota demanded him to use his quirk on her while she lay in Kayama’s arms like a lifeless doll. It also didn't help that Asuka started screaming like a banshee right after her face flushed the brightest red. Nothing made sense with her reports either, they were all normal when they weren't supposed to be. 

So while he was dwelling on nothing making sense , he decided to go buy take-out because he was starving . He was sure no one else was going to have much of an appetite, but he was a stress eater and his stress was stacking up pretty high with all the unanswered questions doing its merry-go-round. 

He ventured to the nearest Burger Shack and ordered six chicken burgers, one of them excluding mayo and cheese, another void of any onions, a peach milk for himself, a lemon cider for Kayama, a vanilla shake for Shota, and a strawberry shake for Asuka just in case she woke up. Finally, he got sides of onion rings, mozzarella sticks, and some chicken nuggets. 

He exited the establishment with a heavy bag and even a hollower stomach. Trudging back to the hospital with no trouble since the pavements and roads were void of people, save for the few night owls. On his way to Asuka’s room, Hizashi waved to the pale nurse situated at the front desk, receiving a short nod of acknowledgment on her part. He pushed the glass leading to the hall that accommodated the private rooms, ceasing his walk only when he came face to face with room no. 390

Hizashi didn't open the door zealously as he did during his monthly appearances in the pediatric wards, instead, he slid the door open steadily, doing his best to be as silent as he could with a rustling bag of food. 

Then his silence shattered, or at least the shattering of silence was subconsciously intended because all he could scream with was his normal voice. 

The result of his screaming had a resting Shota standing up abruptly, his stool toppling on the floor. Behind him Kayama was positively on the floor, her eyes reaching her forehead. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” she hissed. 

But he didn't need to answer, nor did Shota, the answer was perfectly visible, sitting up on her hospital bed, clad in hospital garbs, hair aviating like unkempt tendrils, eyes— clear eyes, eyes in the shade of bubbles reflecting light, offering the same shine and gleam as perfectly blended rainbow— 

“You’re blue.” 

Hizashi had no idea what that meant, but laughter bubbled up from him regardless. 

There were no more words exchanged after that because a doctor waltzed in along with three nurses, politely ushering them out of the room. 

*

“Her blackout must have been caused by the manifestation of her quirk. Optics nerves are incredibly close to the brain, and seeing that Asuka-chan is a fourth generation…” Quirk specialist Sanami yapped away at the usual of how quirks got stronger with each generation, and he had more important questions to ask like, why was Asuka soulless for minutes before receiving her quirk? Why was it that she stared off into empty spaces with such an unsettling look in her eyes? It was his fault, wasn't it? He should’ve visited a doctor the first time it happened, keeping eyes on her at all times just wasn't enough —

“Why doesn’t she have red eyes?” Shota asked instead. 

She unclasped her hands on the report she had reviewed, unruffled by his question. “What was her Okaa-san’s quirk?”

He held back a scowl. “Invisibility. It extended to everything she touched when initiated.” 

“Then there you have it.” she replied simply, “Invisibility. Tricks of light. Reflection. Rainbow . It comes from her maternal side. Children don't necessarily inherit their parents' quirks right to the last dot, Aizawa-san.” 

“What about the blue she mentioned?” Shota retorted, more irked than he should’ve been at the prospect of his daughter inheriting something from that woman. It wasn't like he would think any less of Asuka, it was more of the questions that would rise from her. Even now, he wondered why she didn't question anything about an absentee mother despite dreading the actual answer he would have to eventually give her. 

“What blue?” Sanami questioned, quirking an eyebrow. 

The ‘you’re blue’ she directed at Hizashi right after erasing his quirk— oh. Blue. As in, sad. (Or blue as in something she withheld from the specialist) “Nevermind.” he shook his head. 

Sanami nodded, “Any further inquiries you have, Aizawa-san?” 

“Is it possible for a four-year-old to have dissociative episodes?” 

The quirk specialist blinked at him. Then blinked some more.

“Depends, has your child gone through anything to advocate such symptoms? I’m no expert on the subject since my expertise lies elsewhere, but it could be symptoms of depression, anxiety, schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, borderline personality disorder, or post-traumatic disorder. The bottom line is, it could be anything , it’s best to check with a psychiatrist.” 

So all bad news then. 

*

“Shota!” Kayama screamed as soon as he entered the room, waving a half-eaten burger around his face, wearing the most dumbfounded face. “Asuka-chan said she doesn't want to be a hero!” 

“That’s not what I said!” 

“I don't see what the big deal is,” Hizashi drawled, his cheek stuffed to the maximum, “just ‘cos Asuka-chan was raised amongst heroes, it doesn’t mean she has to be one.” 

Shota blinked, “...where’s the problem with this?” 

“The problem is—” Kayama started, only to rearrange her expression to a befuddled one— “Wait, there isn't a problem, what am I saying?” 

Shota redirected the burger she was waving to her slightly opened mouth, “Go home after you finish eating.” He only pushed harder when she tried to protest. Kayama never functioned well without sleep. 

He took the empty stool near Asuka’s bed and Hizsahi shoved a burger and a vanilla shake into his chest from the other side of the bed. “Firefly here wants to be a baker.” Hizashi chirped, slurping his peach milk with a perfect grin. 

No surprise there. She never once said she wanted to be a hero. “Uhuh,” Asuka nodded promptly, her green eyes twinkling with their usual fervor. “I’m going to open a bakery when I’m old enough.” 

Kayama cackled, “Asuka-chan, you need actual food in a bakery for the business to keep running, with your self-control, I doubt there is going to be anything left to sell.” 

“There's going to be plenty left to sell!” 

“Sure kid, whatever you say.” 

Asuka huffed this time, looking away from the amused woman as she continued to scarf down her second burger. Moments later Kayama was tossing the empty can of lemon cider along with the burger wrapper into the bin, and then almost made him spill the vanilla shake while she hugged Asuka with her usual vehemence. “We’ll visit you tomorrow.” 

“Huh, we?! I’m not—” Kayama’s hand managed to whack his head without detaching from the hug, kissing on both of her cheeks before reassuringly patting Shota on his back.

“She’s getting discharged tomorrow,” Kayama said, tugging at the blonde's collar when Hizashi sat rooted to his seat. 

“It’s okay, ‘zashi-oji, I’ll be fine. Papa will stay with me.” 

Hizashi grumbled something he couldn't decipher, but he stood up begrudgingly, swiping his coat from the sofa before dipping his head to kiss Asuka goodbye. 

When they both left, Shota was trying to organize the questions he had for her without trying to sound like he was interrogating a villain. 

“Papa, are you alright?” she asked, breaking the silence. She was frowning with a stuffed mouth, asking if he was fine—

“I’m going to ask you some questions, alright? And this might make you slightly… uncomfortable , but I need honest answers.” 

She stopped chewing, eyes briefly flashing with something unfathomable before settling in clear confusion. “Okay.”. 

He cleared his throat, setting his barely eaten burger aside along with an untouched vanilla shake on the side table. “Before you received your quirk, was there anything specific you were thinking of? Or do you remember what you were thinking of?” 

Shota studied her expression intently, a twitch, a scrunch, any tells that could assist him in concluding. But Asuka remained unperturbed, casually swallowing her food, and reaching for her strawberry shake, “I was thinking of the color pink.” she said, nearly dumbfounding him. 

“Pink?” he repeated. 

“Yeah, pink. The color is really pretty. And it reminds me of all good things.” 

He clasped his hands on the bed, nearing his stool, “Good things like?” 

The straw started to glitch like a broken record and she jutted the empty cup at him which he easily disposed of to the side. 

“Like love ,” she said. Somehow, her face was glowing more brightly than normal, and this time, he caught a twinge of… melancholy? Longing? before that too, disappeared as soon as it came. 

Well, that wasn't normal. At all. Unless she had a crush on someone, which he highly doubted that she did. 

“Pink reminds me of papa, ‘zashi-oji, Kayama-oba, Izuku, Katsuki, Mitsuki-oba, Inko-oba, Utano-oba, Yumena-oba— pink is the color of love.” she grinned at him, “I think pink’s the reason why my quirk came too.” 

That didn’t— love was the reason she looked dead while being alive? Then what about the other times? What about when she was two years old then? What about the rainy night he was late? What about then?

“Asuka,” he started slowly, hand patting her legs over the sheets, “I don't know whether you’re aware of this, but the few seconds before you got your quirk, you were unresponsive.”  

“...huh?” 

“You were unresponsive . Breathing, alive, eyes opened and blinking, but unresponsive.” 

She bit her lips, eyes leaving him and focusing on the linings of her nails. “But…” Her lips moved too fast for him to read, but the change in her mood was obvious. She was frustrated. “Okay.” she admitted, “But you can't tell this to anyone, alright? This is top secret.” 

Those words managed to suffocate him just a little. “Alright.”

“Pinky promise?” she held out her pinky, mouth set firmly. 

“Pinky promise.” he reciprocated, latching his pinky on hers. 

14th September, 3097

Asuka always knew she was going to get caught at some point in her life. And the dissociative episodes she had weren't helping her case, but that was involuntary, and she would avoid them if she could. But she couldn't . And now her father was interrogating her about why she blanked out like a dead fish mere moments before she received her quirk— both of which weren't the least bit connected, just exceedingly ill-timed. 

“I think I got my quirk when I was two.” Now she had to come up with convincing bullshit lies.

“What?” 

“But not a sturdy version ‘cos it kind of buzzed out after a couple of seconds— Remember when I was with you and you refused to get me burgers after getting my blood taken and then I kind of zoned out?” 

She didn't wait for him to nod, nor did she attempt to gauge his expression. Guilt was sprouting like mushrooms inside her. “I saw blue people at that time. Many, many blue people and there were other colors too, but most of them were blue, and then the next thing I knew I couldn't see ‘em anymore and you were staring at me lookin’ worried.” 

This was not a complete lie. She couldn't see colorful people then unless she initiated to touch them, but now, with her weird doujutsu quirk that somehow managed to cancel another person’s quirk, she could definitely see them. 

“And pray tell, why didn’t you think any of this was important enough to tell me?” he asked, looking more incredulous than anything. 

She supposed that reaction was alright. 

Asuka shrugged it off like a brat getting scolded for stealing cookies off the cooling rack, said brat being fully aware that they wouldn't get anything more severe than a light scolding. “Well, that’s the thing, papa, you looked worried, and I was afraid you were going to fall sick again ‘cos the last time I— Utano-oba told you something wild like that, you got a really bad fever and I wasn't allowed to be near you ‘cos you said I’d get sick too, which isn't fair when I get sick, you’re always looking after me.”

She saw his face soften, “Asuka, I did not fall sick just because Utano-san told me about the time you ran off to a busy road to save a dog during the field trip to Dagobah beach— which is incredibly unsafe, never do that again— but this is different, you're telling me your quirk has been in effect ever since you’re two and—” her father sighed, lifting his hands from her legs and covering his face with it. 

She’d rather take him freaking out over a non-existent quirk when she was two than lose it over a daughter who had memories since she was in her overly affectionate mother’s womb. 

“Why’d you lie to the doctor about your quirk?” he asked finally. Was her sight getting blurry or did he seem relieved? 

“I didn't lie ,” she said defiantly, and she didn't, withholding information wasn't lying . “Sanami-sensei just didn't ask enough questions. My quirk is Erasure, it erased ‘zash-oji’s quirk, didn't it?”

“As far as I’m concerned, erasure doesn't allow me to see blue or any other color for that matter.” 

“Come on, papa, we don't even have the same eye color when it’s activated, you can’t expect everything to be the same.” she quipped back, earning an irked expression from him. 

“What exactly did you mean when you said Hizashi was blue?” 

She leaned against the pillow behind her, “It means ‘zash-oji was blue. He was blue all over his body until it came to his throat, and his throat was sort of double-coated in blue. Then when Sanami-sensei asked to activate my quirk I saw her in a dark brown.” An excited smile crawled up on her face, “Do you know what her quirk was, papa? Mud manipulation! Sanami sensei said she could mold and form mud to her liking— she had an elemental quirk so her color was different!” 

He inhaled deeply, “So let me get this straight. You’ve been activating your quirk partially since you were two , didn't think of telling me because I might get a fever, then had the longest dissociative episode yet before scaring the literal shit out of everyone and manifesting your quirk to its entirety. But even then , you withheld information about your quirk to the quirk specialist assigned to you, someone who allows you to gain a better understanding of your quirk, and… and what exactly is your reason for that?” 

Now that he put it like that, it did seem like her scheme was a little too advanced for her age.  

“I have an even better reason for that!” she clapped her hands, having more fun than she was supposed to. It wasn't like she was producing all lies here though, chakra was essentially what all these people referred to as quirks.  

In simpler terms, the core which all kids had spread when their 'quirks' manifested, in her father’s case, to his eyes, in Hizashi’s case, his larynx, in Kayama’s case, her skin lining, in Katsuki’s case, his palm, and in Izuku’s case, it lay dormant above the navel, non-spreading and still. 

And in cases like hers who bounced back on life, she could mold it wherever she wanted to, gather it where she needed, and had more freedom with her core than the people of this world did. It was the difference between them and her; the capacity to mold chakra, and the ability to grow stronger without restraint. 

“Have you read The Flight Heroes: Soar’s biography?” he nodded, confusion blatant in his eyes, and she wasn't surprised. 

“Then what about Akito: The sun hero?” 

“Asuka, where are you getting at?”

“Don't you get it, papa? In Soar’s biography, it’s mentioned that he showed excellent bravery during a store robbery, then later he was recruited by the hero commission because his quirk was befitting a hero.” 

She didn't like the chill in his eyes, but she continued yapping away at her bullshit anyways. “In Akito’s biography, he’s said to have saved millions of people by his healing quirk, and even if it isn't mentioned specifically word to word, it’s clear as day that it wasn't his first choice. ‘I was a cowardly child, but cowards have their time to shine too. My time came when my quirk was established, and with that, I was offered a chance to help millions of people.’ Do you see the pattern here, papa?” 

She knew what his first question would be, she knew what her answer would be too. “In Abner’s book, he explains the corruption related to the government. And I’m sure that book’s not supposed to be out on the market, but the lady who sold it to me said it’ll open my eyes about the views of the world and it did!” 

Maybe she took this a tad bit too far? Because her father wasn't supposed to know where she got her cheap supplies of books. 

He sighed again. He sighed a lot today. “I don't know where to start,” he said, voice sounding tired enough to make her hold back a wince. Then gray eyes hurt which made her wince. “But I would never hand you off to the government , or to the hero commission, or any other place for that matter just because your quirk happens to be convenient enough to mold you into an exemplary hero. I’ll never force you into anything you don't want to, let’s get that clear, shall we?” 

She nodded. It was already clear that he wouldn't force her into anything she didn't want to do. Her father loved her that much— she loved him too, and maybe hurting him like this wasn’t necessarily the ultimate way to make him never question her dissociative episodes because she sure as hell wasn't telling any living soul about her lovely flashbacks correlating to her past life. “I know you won’t sell me off like that, but they’re much stronger than you. If they wanted to take me, they would. I can erase quirks and have a clear guess on what a person’s quirk might be, I’d be excellent hero material to them.” 

His face twisted to a resolution that reminded her of Naruto, “No one’s going to take you anywhere , alright? I’m your legal guardian, they can’t do anything without my permission, much less force you into a career you don't want to do.” he grasped her semi-oily hands and squeezed them, “You can tell me anything. You’re supposed to be carefree enough to tell me anything. You’re a child, Asuka, still a baby in my eyes, you aren't expected to worry and withhold your feelings by taking mine into account, and you’re certainly not supposed to be scared of your own country pressuring you into something they should not and cannot do. Understood?” 

She beamed, squeezing his hands in return, “Understood.” 

He reciprocated her smile with his, “Good.” 

“Can I have your vanilla shake if you're not drinking it?”

He laughed. 

Asuka happily took the drink when it was offered, stirring it with the straw before slurping a good amount. “Since I’m confessing everything,” From her mid-peripheral vision, she saw him go slightly rigid. “I want Papa to know I’ve been faking my grades too.” 

He relaxed instantaneously and his tone was much lighter too compared to before when he spoke. “Did your illegal books tell you something related to that?” No, this one was quite stupid and obvious. 

“I have legal books.” she replied first, settling the drink between her legs, “And no , if I get good grades, which I most certainly could , then I’d be fawned over like big-headed Benjiro.”    

“Big-head who ?” 

“The class topper.” she said, taking another sip, “He’s a very smart kid, and the teacher loves inflating his ego— he kind of acts like Katsuki that way. If I have average grades, sensei doesn't have to give me extra help, nor do I have to be compared with Benjiro.”

“I see.” he said, reaching for the burger on the side, “That’s a… smart way to go under the radar. Anything else you have to tell me? Anything I won’t have to find out later that results in my hair turning gray?” 

She cackled inwardly, there were so many. But she chose the most recent one. 

“Well…I met a lady.” 

“And?” he chewed a lot more slowly.

“And she told me she was papa’s okaa-san.”  

His eyes turned cold and she slurped on her drink, feigning ignorance. In her defense, she didn't even know her grandmother was going to ambush her while she was displaying the correct way to do katas to two over-enthusiastic boys (apparently they weren't much curious to know where she learned it from, which was entirely good for her)

“What did she do? And… by kami, Asuka, why don’t you tell me these things?” 

Because he tended to stress over said things like a mother hen and later proves to ruin his already messed up sleep schedule to the extent that she’d have to conjure up a special chicken soup which knocked him out approximately thirty minutes after he digested it. But she couldn't tell him that now, could she?

“It slipped my mind.” she spewed the truth for the first time, “And she looked nothing like Papa so I didn't believe her. Stranger danger, you know?” Of course that had to be followed by a lie, not the part about her father and grandmother looking dissimilar though, they seriously were eons apart in terms of appearance. “Katsuki and Izuku were there with me when it happened, so she didn't try to take me anywhere or anything— actually , she didn't do much except speak, and said I looked nothing like you except for the hair.” 

She peered at his conflicted gray eyes, “Then I said my facial features were still developing and she started laughing.” 

“...laughing?” he said slowly. 

“Yeah, and then she tried to pat my head so I slapped her hand away.”

“Good.” 

Asuka grinned, and her happy mood stayed because her father no longer frowned. Though she knew she had to address one more thing before she stopped spilling her guts. This was the right mood, the right setting, she had told him of her partial non-existent quirk, her not-really-a-concern about the government and the hero commission, a flash of her intelligence, her encounter with her grandmother, and now she had to address this issue because she wanted him to know she was fine without a mother, that he didn't have to tippy-toe around the topic just by the mention of a maternal figure because she honestly couldn't give a less flying fuck about that deranged woman, though she was certainly going to phrase it more gracefully, but before she could speak—

“Your Kaa-san…” her father stared at her with unnecessarily hesitant eyes, his face somehow accomplishing to age two more years. “Your eyes are different from mine because you inherited them from your Kaa-san.”

“Kaa-san?” Asuka feigned an innocent look. “I have a Kaa-san?” She was hoping to start the topic since it’d mean that her father would realize that deep down, she wasn't as weird and scheming as he made and found her out to be, but this was cool too. 

“Everyone has a Kaa-san,” he said, keeping his burger aside once more.

“Then is mine dead?” Asuka questioned, trying to prevent herself from patting herself on the back, maybe she should ditch being a baker and pursue a career in acting. “Like Nanami-nee, is she dead?” 

Her father winced, “No,” he straightened from his slouch as he tried to wear a less constipated face, but it still looked extremely constipated to her. “She's in prison.” 

She blinked, anticipating a softer approach rather than a blunt ‘She’s in prison' 

“Why?” 

“She did something bad.” 

“Yeah, but why’d she do something bad?” 

Anger flashed in his eyes, “Some people don’t need a reason to do something bad.” His warm hands found hers again, regarding her with a much more neutral look than seconds before, “We can meet her if you want, but I wouldn't recommend it.” 

She’d snort if she could. How could he just zoom to A and then plunge to Z within eye blinks? What part of suggesting a four-year-old meet her satanic mother was a good idea? If she were an innocent, curious child, maybe she’d get inquisitive and say yes to that idiotic suggestion, only to receive a mind-blowing backlash to her feelings and self-esteem because she was sure that that woman wasn't going to be the least bit accommodating to the very person who was the reason she was incarcerated in the first place. 

“I’d rather not then,” she answered, perfectly sensibly. To hell with being portrayed as weird or scheming, she wasn't facing that foul gremlin, spending two months with her was enough bonding to last a lifetime. “If you're saying you don’t recommend it, then I don’t want to go.” 

The surprise was obvious on his face, “That’s fine.”

He was probably curious about her answer. And if she was maybe hit with a truth quirk, maybe she’d sing the answer like a canary, but she wasn't. So she waited till his curiosity hit rock bottom.  

“...you’re not the least bit curious about the woman who gave birth to you?” She had lots of retort to that question, mean ones like, ‘Yeah, just like how you don’t give a single fuck about yours’ , or ‘She could marry All Might and produce the most ill-fated babies and I still wouldn't bat an eye’. Instead, she resorted to a teeth-rottenly sweet and innocent one she came up with. 

“I mean, maybe a little, but it’s not like I’ve known her at any point in my life,” There was so much lie in that statement that she was inwardly reeling. “I don't miss her. But you just said she’s in prison for doing something bad, and you also said you don’t recommend visiting her, so I’m guessing she did something bad to me when I was really small?” she blinked at him, taking in the stiff face that melted enough to make his eyes appear more glassy than they’ve ever been.

Huh, weird. 

“I don't want to meet her then. If she doesn't like me then I don't like her either. I have enough people who love me, and Papa,” she squeezed his hands, earning a weird hum from him, “If you brought her up just ‘cos Chisako’s okaa-san was being too nosy yesterday, then you don’t have to worry. I haven’t ever felt sad, or less loved just ‘cos Papa’s the only parent in my life. And snobby people like Chisako’s okaa-san won’t know the struggles of single parents anyways, they’re too fat-headed to think straight. I’m sure if Inko-oba heard something like that she’d set the woman straight real quick!” 

Her father seemed strangely subdued despite her explanation. 

Suddenly she smelled fabric softener and felt an exceeding warmth spread to her. 

“Are you crying?” she asked, genuinely concerned as the hand that held hers were surrounding her neck, his light beard tickling her skin, light sniffles echoing as she rounded her arms around his much wider back, only the tips of her finger touching each other. 

"No," He tightened the hug, “I got chili in my eyes.” 

She smiled against his shirt. 

16th September, 3097

Asuka had made sense of what happened approximately two minutes into her quirk activating and erasing Hizashi’s quirk. As much as she was pissed at the prospect of her byakugou seal being emptied ¾ of what she had previously collected, she couldn't do much about it rather than patiently gather it once more. 

The limitations of this world were expected, she was an oddity working against the currents of this world, it already showed in how she couldn't maintain a mere bunshin without exhausting half her abundant reserves, or how she couldn't even decipher her chakra nature, and when she tried producing a measly E-grade water manipulation jutsu, she ended up with a blasted fever that had her missing two days of school. 

“I can’t believe how you’re just going to waste your talents!” 

Ninjutsu wasn't ever attempted after that. Genjutsus weren’t spectacularly hard, but her knowledge in the area was weak even if casting it didn't take up a huge bout of her chakra, and it certainly didn't help that there were no books to assist her in the venture. She was proficient in taijutsu. Medic ninjutsu was right above taijutsu. And she often produced extremely potent , but illegal medications in her home multiple times after her father left for his midnight shifts.

6 pm shifts weren't possible because he always left her at the Night Care, which would end soon because she was turning five. Either way, she always found a way to replace his vitamins with her versions which worked excellently judging by the way he was noticeably more healthy looking. She hadn't gotten to concocting an upgraded version of his eye drops, but that required specific ingredients. Ingredients that she didn't have yet. 

“Out of all the fucking things you could be, you choose to be some stupid baker?! Baker?! Are you shitting me?!” 

Her Fuinjutsu only extended to standard silencing seals and explosion tags. She lacked kenjutsu talents and hadn't had the opportunity to explore her prowess with a sword or any other kind of weapon.

But this was an adequately peaceful world with plenty of people to help other people, there was no need for her to sharpen her skills as if she was preparing to lunge into another war. The same applied to her medical skills, technology here was advanced enough to revive people from the brink of death without pouring out their life essence. She had thought through her career choice, she wanted an easy life, and an easy life was what she was going to run towards

“With that quirk, you could become invincible! Of course not more than me , but damn it Time bomb, why would you waste your talents on making food?!” 

“I think aspiring to open your own business is very cool!” 

“Shut up, nerd! Don't encourage her!” 

Katsuki’s rage was understandable. She never once tried to correct him when he declared they were all going to be heroes. But it wasn't like she actively agreed with him either. 

“What’s wrong with baking?” she shot back cooly, swinging her legs on the gently lulling swing. “I love sweets, so I’ll grow up and make sweets and I’ll sell them to everyone who likes it!” 

“But you’re— you’re strong! ” he blurted, the word strong sounding like expired milk, “Why won’t you be a hero? Because of you Izuku’s getting strong enough to land punches on me, and because of you, I’m… I’m getting better too.” At least his attitude was taking a turn for the good. 

“Being a hero seems like a lot.” she answered honestly, plopping off the swing to reach for her bag stacked on the nearest bench, “Papa’s an underground hero so he goes out during nighttime, beats up bad guys, and all, and on rare occasions, he’s out during mornings too.” She unzipped the bag and got out a metal water bottle, taking a large sip. 

“Writing reports, attending meetings, assisting in investigations, I’m sure they’re all very rewarding and fulfilling, but it seems like really exhausting work to me.” 

Katsuki clicked his tongue, “So you’re lazy as shit is what you’re saying?!” 

“Maybe.” 

“It’s okay, Asuka-chan, I support you!” Izuku, ever the sunshine exclaimed. She engulfed him in a hug, and he didn’t fluster at the contact like he did many other times. 

“This is why you’re my favorite.” 

“What’d ya say?!” 

“You’re my favorite too, Asuka-chan.” 

“What? No! Izuku yer supposed to be my friend first!” 

“Kacchan sure is childish, isn't he?” 

“Totally is.” 

“I’m gonna kill both of you!” 

*

Chapter Text

16th May, 3099

It was a busy day. Commotion buzzed from parents fussing over their children. Some were urging their pouting kids to wear sunscreen, others pulled at their clothes and made sure they looked presentable enough even though that was a useless venture for the coming events, the majority of them were clicking pictures at every angle they could, and Shota was redoing his daughter’s braids because Asuka implored that her hair would get in the way of winning . 

“I'm going to win.” she said, snapping her wristbands, no doubt grinning even if he couldn’t see her face, “So make sure you win too, alright?” 

He tied the rubber band at the end of her braid, “It won’t be fair if I participate.” 

“Nu-uh, that’s not how this works. You’re a parent, so you get to participate, it’s fair and square, and there are no rules stating otherwise.” she countered, attempting to turn around, but he held her in place, still not done with her hair. 

“Why are you intent on winning this again?” he questioned, looping the braid into an immaculate bun, then snagged bobby pins from his pockets to secure it. 

“ Because, ” she pressed, “If I’m not academically advanced, then I need to at least have several accomplishments in other areas.” 

"You do?"

“Of course I do!” 

“Okay,” he answered amusedly, done with her hair. 

Then her homeroom teacher called all the students to assemble on the open ground to start the sports ceremony, and all the kids rushed out of the shaded tent, including his daughter who gave him an exceedingly smug smile while jogging along with the rest of her year mates. 

It was ironic how she insisted on getting average grades, but when it came to sports she decided achieving first place in every race was a necessity. 

The day hadn't even reached its climax when he started receiving stinky eyes from the fellow parents around him. It wasn't like he could help it either, was he supposed to coax his kid to go easy on the other kids while his kid was also the same age as their kids? Because that was quite frankly the most outrageous thing next to their kids whining about Akuma Asuka hoarding her gold— what did that even mean? But it was only the red team doing its whining, so he supposed he’d let them slide by calling his child a demon. 

“Did you see me throwing the disc? I didn't even have to use chak— my full strength— and did you see me sprint fifty meters? My lungs were about to burst, but I still won—'' he stuffed a piece of nugget in her mouth. 

“Eat first.” 

She chewed it similarly to how she inhaled the bun in the bun-bun race. 

“They’re staring at you,” Asuka said, swallowing her food, her eyes focusing behind him.

"Who?"

She leaned in, swiping a fry from the lunch box he prepared, “I wouldn’t recommend Nami’s kaasan ‘cos she’s apparently on her fourth marriage. Futaba’s kaasan looks nice, but I saw her kick a puppy, and Etsuko’s kaasan’s okay, but Etsuko has a temper worse than Kayama-oba, so I wouldn't recommend that.” 

…this kid.

“Asuka,” he said, sighing deeply, “for the forty-seventh time, please stop suggesting partners for me.” 

She grinned shitfully, “Oh come on papa, your daughter isn't so close-minded.” 

“Then I’d prefer you be close-minded when it comes to situations like this.” 

She patted his knees with a casual hum, then reached for the guava juice, “You’ll come to appreciate me one day.” 

For that, he stuffed another piece of nugget into her mouth. 

In the following events, Asuka left him exceedingly proud and vaguely worried. In the sack race, she had stomped up enough dust and created alarming craters in her wake. During the three-legged race she did with her classmate— the one whose mother kicked a puppy— she had dragged the other girl through the field. Then her performance in the obstacle race left him wondering if his daughter had some kind of training— which was a viable possibility since he knew the Trio (Izuku, Katsuki, and Asuka) got up to all sorts of shenanigans. 

He wasn't inherently surprised when the blue team won the tug-of-war. And the highlight of it all was the costume race where she chose the ninja outfit and proceeded to sprint in a manner their ancestors would be proud of. 

By the end of the kids' events, the blue team was the apparent winner, and it was no surprise to anyone that Asuka was medaled as the MVP. 

With the rays of the setting sun contrasting one half of her jovial face, eyes twinkling like precious emerald, and dirt staining her clothes and skin, he snapped the perfect shot of her showing off the gold medal hanging around her neck; a shot that Kayama and Hizashi would’ve been proud of. 

Then later when they initiated the Father's race, he protested against going because it wasn't fair competition, but Asuka had no qualms on whether it was fair or not— ‘ Life’s not fair, papa, and everyone you’re participating with is probably adult enough to understand that ’— is what she had said. 

So here he was, sprinting two hundred meters while the mothers from the blue team were screaming their cheers. Tug of war was bearable since the activity required teamwork, and he wouldn't be at the center of attention. Then the woman who had inherently kicked a puppy asked for his number after he came back to the shaded camp, and he could vaguely hear Asuka choking in the background. 

31st May, 3099

“Okay, I’ve been meaning to ask you this, but what are we doing here?”

Kayama hummed in answer, doing a little twirl on the stand she was occupying, making the flowy dress flare like the most fairytale-like thing ever. 

Asuka blinked, “Is this a new hobby? I mean we’ve been here for the past two hours and you’ve tried over a million dresses— just what are you trying to do?” she repeated, her agitation hitting zero as her aunt fluttered about in her seventh dress of the evening with the same dazed smile on her face.

“Is it not obvious, little girl?” The very diligent employee who had been fitting Kayama into all sorts of blinding dresses spoke. “You oba-san is getting married , why else would she try on wedding dresses?” 

Her eyebrows furrowed, “What do you mean she’s getting— don’t you need a partner to marry? Kayama-oba doesn't have that.” 

At her statement, laughter flourished inside the boutique along with cooes of how innocent and adorable she was. 

She was, more or less, dumbfounded. 

When Asuka accompanied Kayama to a girl’s day out, she was expecting shopping, mani’s and pedi’s, pigging out at the nearest hotdog cart, but not this . 

“Asuka-chan.” Kayama finally spoke, stepping off the stand with the help of an employee. “To think my little flower girl wouldn't know my groom-to-be.”

What the fuc — “Huh?” 

“Your Hizashi-oji, hun.” Kayama said, “Who else would I marry other than him?” 

Asuka didn't know it was even possible to fall while sitting, but she managed to do just that. 

* 

“PAPA! PAPA! PAPA!—” 

Shota nearly dropped the tray of cookies he was holding due to the sheer urgency in her voice, but he discarded it on the stovetop instead, rushing his legs to scramble out of the kitchen only to find his kid zooming around the living room to reach right where he was. “—Kayama-oba— crazy— wedding— marrying Hizashi-oji— Can you believe her?!” 

There was a moment of silence after that outburst. Asuka was panting with a crazed look on her face, and Shota gazed towards the opened door where Kayama was lingering, her palm covering her mouth while her shoulder shook like the mixer he used to grind Asuka’s food with. 

“What’s going on?” Hizashi broke the silence as he appeared behind Kayama with a jolly face.

Shota pursed his lips to fend off an oncoming laugh. 

His know-it-all kid, the most observant six-year-old, the one who kept secrets from him because she thought he might not be able to stop the government from taking her into the hero commission because she had the most convenient quirk, the one who masked her grades to lose attention— this kid was oblivious to Kayama and Hizashi’s relationship?

“Asuka-chan won’t believe that we’re getting married,” Kayama answered him. 

“Of course, I won’t believe you’re getting married!” Asuka hollered, both hands taking their spot on her hips as she got into the stance Shota liked to call ‘the no-nonsense stance’ , “There’s no way I wouldn't know about this!” 

To Shota’s heightening hilarity and Asuka’s rise in somewhat-reasonable agitation, Hizashi plopped his head on Kayama’s shoulder and wrapped his arms around her waist, “But we are getting married. We told you last night, Kayama announced it after dinner and we even showed you our rings."

“....that happened last night?” Asuka looked up.

Shota patted her head with his mitten, “It did.” Though she might’ve been too preoccupied to make sense of the news while reading through the latest news on how All Might saved a whole ward of people with scrunched eyebrows and pursed lips. “You even congratulated them while Hizashi whined about how unexcited you sounded.” 

“That’s right, you practically shrugged it off.” Hizashi agreed.

“And you even agreed to be the flower girl!” Kayama added. 

He watched her as she just blinked, her no-nonsense stance still firm, “So you’ve been dating this whole time?” 

“Ever since you were two years old, kiddo,” Hizashi answered, both of them trudging inside the house as they shut the door behind them. 

“...ever since... I was... two… ”

Then, she proceeded to chortle most unnaturally and her hand slipped from her hips, short legs lugging towards the hallway leading to her room. “Two years… wow ...two years…I must be going senile… yeah, definitely...” 

And she was gone, replacing the living room with silence once more. Though that didn't even last two seconds. “Is she going to be alright?” 

"She’s going to be fine.” 

20th June, 3099

It was magical how infrastructure in this world was so advanced and unorthodox. Buildings looked more than just common apartment complexes with boring paint. Security wasn't just keys and seals, it used fingerprints and other spectacular recognitions that Konaha hadn't even thought to use. Roads contained paints and rules, public transportation was an actual thing, vehicles were like flash steps, and aquariums, in general, were the most fascinating spectacle.

Konoha was traditional and unconventional in its own right, but Japan— no , the earth itself was so vast and brilliant that she would need several lives over to explore the whole entirety of it. 

Though right now she was more than content with seeing a giddy dolphin messing with people by its spontaneous version of peek-a-boo. 

“Come along.” a familiar voice drifted into her ears, tugging her hand as they passed the wide array of fishes. 

She tumbled along with him in enthusiastic steps, her other hand keeping a firm grip on the strap of her green bag, “What’s your favorite fish, papa?” 

"I don't have one." He said, shielding her from the touring crowd by picking her up. Asuka’s hand latched around his neck on impulse, somewhat embarrassed that he had to adjust her several times. 

“Am I heavy?” she grumbled, a neon writing entering her vision. 

“Yes.” 

“Papa!” 

“It feels like I’m carrying a baby whale.” 

She gritted her teeth, “Baby whales weigh 2000-4000 kilos, that isn't scientifically possible!”

“I’m a hero, I can do anything.” 

“A hero with an optic-based quirk.” 

He didn't put her down even when they joined the queue for lunch, “No one likes a smartass.” 

“No one likes a liar either!” 

After they received the tray of food from the Subway, both of them found a seat in the noisy cafeteria. Her father unwrapped her beef sub, and she put straws in both their drinks before both of them started eating. 

He nagged at her for picking the tomatoes in her sandwich from time to time, then told her to stop lathering her fries with ketchup, right after that she proceeded to spill her orange soda on her yellow shirt, and he shook his head at her. 

She had been prone to clumsiness ever since her rebirth. This was just one of the few accidents she had since the day began, other than the bumping into the glass door earlier today, and nearly slipping off the stairs at the bus. 

Asuka slipped off her seat and grabbed her bag which hung on the arm of the chair, “I’m going to wash this off.”

Shota stood up to accompany her, only to be halted by her palm. 

“I’m six, not three ,” she pressed, “and the bathroom’s right over there, so you’ll see me if I happened to be a target of kidnapping.” 

He tugged her ear in retaliation, “Don’t fool around.” 

Asuka rolled her eyes before turning to leave.

When she returned with a wet, stainless shirt, a huge parcel sat on her chair, and her father gazed at her with confusion. She almost kicked the chair nearest to her. 

That parcel was supposed to be delivered after they were done eating!  

“Well, happy Father’s Day!” she said instead, picking the hefty parcel from her chair and dumping it on his lap. 

And like every loving, caring, smitten father, he said: “Where did you get the money to buy this?” 

"That’s the first thing you ask?! Your daughter gives you a gift for Father's Day and you raise questions on how I got your present. I'm not a criminal, you know.”

“You do plenty of things to validate my suspicion.” 

“Like what?!” 

“Like buying shady books.” he returned effortlessly. 

At that, she humbled, “It’s not shady if it's cheap .”

“Like teaching Katsuki and Izuku how to fight without having any formal training.”

“I’m a quick visual learner!” 

“Like cheating the system.”

“Okay, so I’m smart , shouldn't you be proud to have such a capable child?” 

“Like arguing.” 

“Smart kids like me don’t take kindly to injustice, even if it comes from family— and arguing isn't even a valid point! Can you just open the gift? I poured half my savings into it!” 

He shot her a suspicious look, his hand subconsciously fiddling with the yellow bow attached to the top of the boulder-sized parcel, “Asuka, you spend all the money I give you on candy and books, pray to tell how you have savings?” 

Asuka wanted to cry, why won’t he just open the parcel and accept her goodwill?! 

“I’m kidding.” her father said, pulling her arm as he urged her to take a seat. Asuka took a seat and snagged her drink from the table. 

“It’s also a congratulatory gift,” she informed, sipping on her beverage. “Kayama-oba and Hizashi-oji said you’re finally going to join U.A.”

Soon after her father started unwrapping her gift, she had the honor to see an exponentially confused look on his face as he held up the yellow polyester bag. 

“Do you like it? I found it online. There was orange and red too, but I liked the yellow better. It's more bright and noticeable so others won’t kick you even if they see you sleeping in it.” she explained enthusiastically. 

“...this… you bought me a sleeping bag?” 

“Yeah!” she agreed, “I’ve noticed you sleep well during the day. It's like the time we went to Kyshu and I slept soundly because Naruto was with me, so I figured if Papa can’t carry around a stuffed toy then a sleeping bag wouldn't be so bad— carrying a piece of home will help you sleep more peacefully!” 

“I'm not going to sleep on my job,” he said, then he tousled her nicely made hair and she knew he was pleased with the gift. 

Later when they exited the premises and strolled the semi-congested streets, Asuka tugged him into a pet store. 

She fell in love with a white Abyssinian with baby-blue eyes and named it Oni. 

Her father picked a brown Sepia with grey eyes and named it Fergus. 

Then during dinner, Hizashi told her she was definitely her father’s daughter. 

27th April, 3100

Shota was slightly surprised to know that most of his old teachers weren’t among the staff members. 

Recovery Girl, Power Loader, Snipe, and Ectoplasm, were the only familiar faces from when he was a student. Though it seemed as if half his year mates were deployed here because Kan was whining about how Shota beat him again . Not that Shota made any sense of what the man said. 

Kayama and Hizashi had joined a year before he did, and Hound Dog, a senior of his, was working as a guidance counselor of all things. Two of his juniors, Cementoss and Thirteen were employed as well. 

Even when facing the wide crowd of students, he still pondered as to whether or not he could do a good job. Especially since Nedzu was crazy enough to assign him to class 1A, he didn't know what the mouse was thinking when he said Shota could do whatever he wanted as long as he didn't cross the line. 

And he didn't even get a manual on where the line was. 

But then again, he was a father to an eccentric kid, so mentoring these baby-faced heroes-to-be shouldn't be that hard, right?

His thoughts took a complete detour when he met his class. 

“Sensei, are you even a hero?”

“ You’re our homeroom teacher?” 

“This is the U.A. standard?” 

“My brother had Kore : The Flower hero as his homeroom teacher, but why is it that we get a Hobo as a teacher?” 

In short, the majority of his kids were snotty brats who didn't know the first thing about being a hero. 

Some idiot even asked what an underground hero was when he revealed his title. Another brat said class 1B was lucky to have Vlad King. Then right after he had informed them of what an underground hero was, a yellow-haired kid who vaguely resembled a frog asked him why he wasn't included in the Hero Board.

At that point, he missed Asuka who at least asked him sensible questions. These fifteen-year-olds were supposed to be the next batch of promising heroes? Shota wished he could whack them over the head, but that went against his Manual of Lines. 

So he made do with giving them hell instead.  

1st November, 3100

“Oh. My. God, is that Fat Gum? And he’s talking to Tiger, am I dreaming? The whole of Pussy Cats is here!— Asuka-chan look, isn't that Edgeshot, and Vlad King! Where is my notebook?!”

Asuka blinked at Izuku’s excitement. 

Of course, Kayama and Hizashi's wedding would be a gathering for Heroes. Both of them were proud extroverts with Hizashi in particular having the extraordinary talent of befriending walls. 

“Tch, it isn't like All Might is here, what are you getting so worked up for?” Katsuki, ever the amiable gremlin grunted. 

“Hey, All Might’s cool too, but that doesn't mean they’re any worse off,” Izuku frowned, “Thirteen is a rising rescue hero, do you know how many people she saves daily? In the latest incident in Akashi Ward, she rescued over a hundred people with her quirk! The Pussy Cats saved numerous people from mudslides, and they even frequent orphanages and pediatric wards. And didn't you see that incident in the mall where Fat Gum—”

“Izuku, I implore you, please shut up.” Katsuki cut in. 

Asuka snorted.

Pertaining to Katsuki’s request, Izuku didn't stop his rambling, prattling a tale about every hero within his line of sight as Katsuki grew more and more frustrated. Now, hero stories were more than welcome within their group, and oftentimes Izuku was the one providing them with such narratives, but he tended to repeat them a lot and that was a type of torture both she and Katsuki despised. 

Naturally, Asuka wasn't going to take the punishment along with Katsuki, so ignoring the other boy’s pleas, she slipped off her seat and ambled out the hallway and into the connecting room leading to Kayama’s dressing room. 

Kayama was always beautiful to her, but today with her angular face painted with light makeup, baby blue eyes shining similar to Naruto’s, and her dark mane of purple hair twisted into a large bun adorned with pearls and gems, dressed in lilac wedding garments that made her look like a fairy, she looked stunning . 

“Ah, my flower girl,” Kayama cooed, “How do I look?” she twirled on the stand, posing with her white and purple bouquet. 

“Like a knockout as always.” Asuka indulged her. 

Kayama chuckled as she lifted her dress and got off the stand. “You look adorable too,” she said, patting her cheeks and bringing her into a side hug. 

Soon after Tomoko (Ragdoll), Kayama’s chief bridesmaid entered the room and informed her that the ceremony was about to commence and ushered the both of them out of the room. Asuka was handed a basket filled with colorful petals while Tomoko crouched down and fixed the nonexistent creases on her dress.

“Don’t be nervous, alright? Just do as we practiced.” the gold-eyed woman instructed, tucking her hair behind her ears before adjusting the bobby pins in her hair. 

Which one of them was nervous again?

She refrained from blurting it out, only providing words of reassurance. “Don’t worry Tomo-oba, we’ll do great!” 

Tomoko offered a gentle smile in answer. 

“Alright, everyone’s taken their seats, you all should know the order, right?” Tomoko hollered, “Asuka-chan and Izuku-kun will lay the flower path after the music starts, and Katsuki-kun will go right after. After we take our places, Kayama will step out with Jiro-oji-san.” she finished in one breath, addressing everyone behind her with a shaky smile.

Seriously, which one of them was getting married again?

“Tomo,” Kayama snorted, “will you loosen up? Nothing is going to go wrong.” 

“Right.” the other replied succinctly, smoothing over Kayama’s gown like a mother bear. 

Her agitation made Asuka wonder just how frantic Tomoko was at her wedding. 

“Take your places then!” 

No sooner had she said that, violins stretched with their tunes and the piano intertwined with the chorus, Tomoko signaled for the main door to be opened, both her and Izuku stepping out to the plum carpet leading to the aisle. 

She wasn't going to deny that the eyes on her were the most comforting. Even Izuku seemed to be mumbling something under his breath as he threw a fistful of flowers to the path, his hold on the basket much tighter than hers. Katsuki had said he didn't mind being either, but being the ring bearer meant they had to have steady feet, and Izuku didn't fit the criteria very well. He was already too muddle-headed from being surrounded by too many celebrities. 

Asuka smiled along the path, her focus diverted to Hizashi in the middle who was clad in a white suit. His black vest accentuated the lilac tie. His hair was unsurprisingly styled to a low ponytail, and she did not doubt that Tomoko would’ve beaten him with a stick if he tried going along with his usual cockatoo mess. Hizashi looked neat, but her father who was beside him looked neater because he had the courtesy to shave his face and tie his hair into a low ponytail. But then again, it was both his best friend's wedding, if he hadn't cleaned up, Asuka would’ve picked up a stick herself. 

When they reached their stop, Izuku took his spot in front of her father, and she joined where it was assumed to be the spot in front of Tomoko. 

“Hizashi-oji,” she whispered to him. 

His red eyes focused on her. “Yes, Firefly?”  

“Your hair looks nice today.” 

Someone amongst the groomsmen snorted and her father shot her a Look. 

Asuka suppressed a smile, focusing on Katsuki. The boy seemed nonchalant at first glance, but the red in his ears contradicted. Tomoko and the rest of the bride's maids filtered out in pretty violet dresses, then finally, the door opened for the bride. And as the star of the day sauntered on the plum, petal-scattered carpet, her uncle was starstruck. 

Love was so nice. 

Clouds drifted along the stark blue sky, the sun warmed their feet, leaves of a mulberry shielding them. Shikamaru’s scent of wood and smoke set her at such ease that she felt drowsy.

“You know what Ino said to me the other day?” The wind blew at them, her position only allowing her to hear the soft howl as the other bore the brunt of it.

“Something about having to go to the saloon because she had split ends?” Shikamaru answered, his half-lidded eyes staring up at the leaves. 

Sakura smiled, “That too.” she agreed, “But she asked if I was together with you simply because you reminded me of Sasuke.”

The leaves above rustled with another gust of wind. "What part of me resembles him?” 

Sakura burst into laughter. 

“I, Yamada Hizashi, take you, Nemuri Kayama, to be my lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death does us part.” 

Once she sobered, he spoke again, “What was your answer?” 

“My answer?” she hummed, gazing at him from the corner of her eyes.

“I, Nemuri Kayama, take you, Yamada Hizashi, to be my lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death does us part.” 

Chestnut met with Emerald, “It was a no . Sasuke’s still a teammate we have to rescue, and my feelings for him are platonic. There’s no way I’d use you like that, Shika, and I doubt you’d let anyone treat you like a replacement either.” 

Triumph glimmered in his eyes before his head dipped between the junction of her neck and shoulder, “Damn right I wouldn't.” 

Thunderous claps filled the venue along with whistles and cheers, but Hizashi and Kayama seemed to be immersed in their little bubble as both of them stared at each other with radiant smiles adorning their faces.

His unruly pineapple hair tickled the side of her face, “I love you, you know that, right?” Sakura said, caressing his cheek and tucking the stray brown hair behind his ears. 

“Of course.” he murmured against her skin, “And when the troublesome war is over, we’ll get married.”

Warmth bloomed in her chest, “Yes we will.” 

No they won’t.  

As Asuka viewed the couple stepping down the stairs and into the flurry of guests howling congratulations, her mind was plagued with the broken promises they made. 

Shikamaru and Sakura never got their happily ever after. 

And they’d never get their happily ever after.

“Asuka?”

She blinked, “Yes papa?” 

He lifted her from the ground and tucked her to his side, “Don’t worry, just because they’re married, doesn't mean they’ll turn to strangers.”  

Asuka smiled, swallowing the bittersweet feelings along with her memories of Shikamaru. Right, he was gone , and she wasn't Sakura anymore. “I know.” she played along, “But I’m more worried about you, won’t you be too lonely once they settle in their homes and start a family of their own? This is why I told you to find a nice lady from school.” 

“I’ll toss you into the pond if you keep talking nonsense.” 

Asuka cackled. 

* 

“Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask this, but who’s the kid near Aizawa?” Vlad King asked, gesturing his head in the direction where the audience witnessed Eraserhead wiping the aforementioned kid’s mouth with a tissue. 

“Isn’t that the flower girl?” Fat Gum pitched in, munching on his fried chicken leg. 

“That’s his daughter.” Edgeshot dropped, silencing the whole table. 

“Senpai has a daughter ?” Thirteen broke the silence, “Since when?” 

“What?!” Vlad King thundered, banging the table. 

Tiger next to him raised an eyebrow, “He’s the one who has a daughter, why the hell are you so riled?” 

Mandalay snorted, “Kan has always regarded Shota-kun as a rival.” 

Pixie-bob squealed out a question, “When was this?! We aren’t as tight-knit as he is with Kayama-chan and Hizashi-kun, but we’re still his friends! How could he hide the news about getting married and having a child? This is outrageous!” 

“Aizawa senpai has always been a lowkey person.” Manual chimed in. 

“Why’re you all so interested in his private life again?” Gang Orca queried, tossing sauce-lathered fries into his mouth. 

Rock Lock coughed, “That’s right, we shouldn't be too nosy.”

“You’re obviously dying to know the gossip, senpai!” Pixie-bob refuted, pointing her fork at the red face hero. 

“Who’d he marry?” Fat Gum asked, leaning closer to Edgeshot.

At that question, Edgeshot seemed to bury his head into his scarf. 

“What are you getting all shy for?” Ingenium prodded this time.

“Come on, tell us!” Mandalay urged. 

Edgeshot seemed reluctant, but he still spoke, “...well, it’s a messy situation, so don’t spread it around, okay?” 

The majority of the heroes nodded in enthusiasm, encouraging him to go on while a minority could give less of a flying buzz— that was  until Edgeshot’s next word reached their ears. 

“Nemuri’s the mother.” 

Those simple words managed to boggle many of them to the core. 

“What the hell?” 

“It’s a soap opera.”

“Kayama-chan’s the mother, but she married Hizashi-kun while she has a kid with Shota-kun? Now that’s what I’d call Wild .” 

“And Yamada’s okay with this?!” 

“The real question is, is he even aware of it? ” 

"They're together all the time, why wouldn't he know?" 

"Yamada’s dense like that." 

"Are you stupid? That kid's a carbon copy of Aizawa, even Yamada can't be that dense."

"Hmm, really? I don't see it. The only thing similar about them is the hair." 

“Why the fuck do you look so giddy?” 

“What? It’s my face, I’ll look however the hell I want!”

“I’ll say this again, don’t spread it around.” 

“Fine, fine, we get it Kamihara, no one here’s a snitch.” 

“Kan’s a big fat snitch.” 

“Shut your trap, you damn four-eyes!” 

And while the discussion went on, Tomoko returned to her seat with her plate filled with dessert. “What’re they arguing about?” 

Egdeshot felt hot behind his neck, “I may have told them about Asuka-chan being Kayama’s kid.” 

Tomoko choked on a cherry. 

Five minutes later she banged on the table to silence them. “What nonsense are you all spouting? Kayama-chan is a mother figure to Asuka-chan, and they’re not biologically related at all! Shinya-kun had a slight misunderstanding because of an incident that happened several years back.” She directed her troubled gaze at her husband, “Seriously Shinya-kun, I didn't take you one to gossip. What would you have done if I wasn't here?” 

Edgeshot blushed in response. 

“Then Tomo-chan,” Pixie-bob pitched in, her eyes expectant, “who’s the mystery woman who won our grouchy Shota-kun’s heart?” 

At that, Tomoko shrugged, “Who knows? All I know is that it isn't Kayama-chan.” No sooner had she said that, she went onto sit, but was interrupted when her gown got tugged, forcing her attention to familiar green eyes that almost made her scream. Did this kid hear all that?!

“Kayama-oba said she needs your help.” The seven-year-old spoke, silencing the table filled with heroes. “She said something about the reception dress having the wrong design or something.” 

Tomoko didn't waste any time escaping the scene. “Then I’ll be running down there!”

Edgeshot gulped, “You look very pretty today Asuka-cha—”

“I heard you’re all very curious about who Papa married.” Asuka cut in, a smile playing on her face as if she had stated her favorite ice cream flavor. “Don’t worry, I’ll answer the question; Papa isn't married to anyone!” she chirped, providing notable discomfort amongst the pro heroes. 

“I mean I tried to get him together with my classmates’ parents, but he said he wasn't interested.”

Gang Orca snorted. 

The others had varying reactions; admiring the decoration on the table, playing with their food, looking everywhere but the small, babbling pipsqueak, Shota who was walking to their table— 

“As for my Kaa-san.” she drawled, bouncing on her heels as her eyes shined like jewels, “She’s in prison.” 

… what the fuck?

“Asuka, they’re calling you over for pictures….what’s going on here?” Shota’s eyes narrowed, sensing the awkward atmosphere.

No one answered. 

“Papa, your friends seemed very curious as to who you married to have an adorable daughter like me!” she provided, beaming like the sun in high noon. 

He glanced over the table of gossipmongers, all of whom were avoiding his eyes. 

“—and then I told them that Kaa-san was in prison.”  

Shota felt an incoming headache. 

*

Chapter Text

7th December, 3100

Ami liked Eraserhead sensei. 

He wasn't necessarily a nice teacher, nor was a terrible one. 

He was an extremely sadistic one, that she was sure of, but she liked to believe it was for their own growth.

Sensei had been ridiculed the first day he introduced himself. With his gaunt face and loose hair, his laid back composure and his dull style of clothing, even Ami had to admit that she had initially judged him. But then she had reminded herself that this was U.A , this school was exceptional in every aspect, they weren't going to shove an incapable person to nurture the future generation of heroes; Ami refused to believe so. 

And when her classmates threw unneededly harsh remarks at him for being a no-name hero while also being terribly ignorant of the fact that underground heroes were low profile for a good damn reason , she wondered what kind of idiots she was stuck with for her highschool year. 

But sensei straightened them pretty soon. 

She was also included in the straightening, everyone was; running through minefields, avoiding electrocuted barbed wires, crawling through mud with worms, laps in the huge field for anyone that raised a complaint, threat of expulsion for anyone that refused to participate without a solid reason— he was devil through and through.

Whenever he wasn't terrorising them on the fields, his actual lessons were informative and easy to stick with, he taught them that their path wasn't going to be roses and cherries, that being a hero wasn't fun in any sensible context. At least it wasn't for him, he expressed.

In addition to the lesson he taught from the curriculum, he also managed to slither in assignments and research work outside of the curriculum. 

It’ll help you in the long run , he voiced, grinning maniacally as he slipped into his neon sleeping bag.

Nevertheless, Eraserhead sensei was a good teacher in terms of what good teachers extended to, and that was enough for them. 

* 

“Who’re you?”

“Huh? What’s a pipsqueak like you doing here?” 

“Maybe it’s lost?” 

“ She , you idiot.”

“All children are disgusting.” 

“So are your eating habits, but you don’t see us complaining about it.” 

“You guys always complain about it!” 

“That’s beside the point, what’s she doing here and how’d she get past security?” 

Asuka only blinked at the uninformed individuals.

To think she’d be anywhere near her father’s workplace when he was so adamant to keep her out of there. But what choice did he have? The school was closed, Kayama and Hizashi weren’t available because they had patrols to attend to, Inko and Mitsuki were both working moms, and apparently, Masaru had taken the liberty to take Izuku and Katsuki to a fan meet, and that happened way before the gas leakage at their home so she couldn't tag along with them. With no trusty adults to look after her, her father begrudgingly told her to dress up before taking her to his workplace because evidently, his ‘ Students were a bunch of morons who needed extra classes   

“Is she mute?” 

“Maybe she just doesn't like your face.” 

He had told her to wait in class while he grabbed something from the staffroom, and in her opinion, the staffroom was a much more viable option to stay in rather than a class that was bound to be filled with his ‘ Moronic students ’, but then she remembered the colleagues he worked with.  

“Will you idiots take your seats? Sensei will be here soon. Stop bothering the child, he’ll deal with her.” 

Asuka’s eyes glinted, “Hey Onii-san, what’s your sensei like?” she asked the nearest student. She duly noted that it was the one who called her disgusting, so either that indicated he was extremely straightforward or just a major dick. 

“Oh, it speaks .” 

A major dick it was. 

“You know, no matter how I look at it, I don’t know how your ignorant bum got yourself into the hero course. Just how are you going to accomplish being a hero if you’re so rude to people? The public’s going to hate you.” 

“I’m not going to be a hero to pay lip service, so keep your shitty opinion to yourself, Nakamura!”

Wow, this one was like a perfect example of Katsuki if he was left untamed. 

Nakamura seemed perfectly unfazed as she directed a fond smile toward her, “Are you curious about our sensei? Well, I’m not surprised, U.A. has the best teacher in the country after all!”

“Right?” Asuka played along, grinning excitedly, “I even heard Ectoplasm works here! Pretty Onee-san, is it true that he lost both his legs because of a terrorist attack? My friend even showed me a clip of him fighting and it was awesome!” 

Nakamura nodded, “It’s the truth, Ectoplasm sensei is our math teacher, but I heard he takes physical education for the 1C kids."

The boy with the titanic ego snorted. 

“Ignore him,” Nakamura said, “He’s always salty that our sensei doesn’t have a billboard ranking.”

Her heart prickled. Was this why her father wanted her to stay away? Because his students were assholes about his hero standing? 

“Shut up, Yamamoto! Sensei doesn't need a grand title to hand your ass to you!” 

“That’s right! He’s a little screwed in the head, but he’s making us into better heroes!”

“Sadako sensei doesn’t give a shit about what you think of him, the only thing your big mouth is going to land on us is in a field of mine!”  

“Yeah! Stuff your prejudice up your ass!” 

Okay, so not all his students were assholes… but screwed in the head? Sadako sensei? Minefields?

“Will you all stop swearing?” Nakamura bellowed, aggressively pointing to where she was. 

They all simmered down, even Yamamoto with his inflated ego returned to his seat after considerable grumbling. But Nakamura and a few other students sat beside her on the lifted space where the beige podium was placed. 

“So, what brings you here, little angel?” 

Asuka pressed the tip of her shoe on the polished blue floor, blinking when her reflection stared back at her. “Papa brought me here,” she answered simply. “And my name’s Aizawa Asuka.” 

The response Nakamura gave amused her for two reasons. One: they were unaware of their teachers’ full names. Two: they assumed she was Hizashi and Kayama’s kid because they were the only married couple among the staff members the students were aware of.  

“Damn really? I knew sensei was married, but who knew they had a kid?” 

“Well, she does look as pretty as Midnight.” a bashful student added.

Asuka wanted to laugh. 

“Hey kid, if you’re in this class that probably means you lost your way. This is 1A, Present Mic’s in charge of 1C.” 

Another brunette nodded to the statement, “Yeah, I can take you there. You don’t want to be here when our sensei arrives, he’ll probably make you cry.”

Now she didn't want to leave. Just what did her father do to these kids?!

“Why’s your sensei so scary?” she asked instead. 

“We’d rather not say, it isn't good for children’s ears.” Nakamura denied, avoiding her gaze when Asuka tried to flutter her lashes to gain her answers. 

Luckily not everyone was as precautious as Nakamura. 

“He’s completely off his rockers.” a student with blue skin spoke, her eyebrows reaching her hairline. “I mean I thought the dude was a bit eccentric at first, but it's U.A, right? Everything’s a little crazy here. Then that loud mouth over with his posh bit— posse decided to ridicule him over his appearance on the first day of school.” Her thumb directed at Yamamoto and his crowd, “And Sadoko sensei likes to say he isn't gettin' revenge for the first-day debacle whenever we bring it up, but we all know he’s lying.” 

Another student with flaming red hair and charcoal eyes slammed the table with his pencil case, “He’s totally lying! Because of Yamamoto's loud mouth, we all have to bear the brunt of his wrath— Kid, our sensei made us play hide-and-seek for a test, and guess what happened? I’ll tell you what happened!”

His charcoal eyes lit orange and he seemed near tears, “Five hours! Five whole freaking hours and we weren't allowed to go home until we found him— that sadistic bum, he failed everyone for our incompetence in utilizing our quirks!” Now his hair was on fire and Asuka didn't even have the heart to feel sorry for them. Who asked them to provoke the pinnacle of pettiness?

“Hey I may have started taunting him, but you all contributed! Don’t make me out to be the only villain!” Yamamoto screeched.

“Ah, remember the day we all fought him at once?” A student with a lizard face chirped, though her smile was extremely forced, “He made a deal to give us a full grade on the condition that we steal the green scrunchie on his wrist.” 

“Bah! Don’t even remind me, just how does he move around like that when he drags his feet on the ground and sleeps on the floor like a freaking worm!” 

Asuka blinked up at the blue-skinned student, “Then why’s he called Sadako sensei?” she asked with feigned oblivion. 

“Isn't the name obvious enough?” she answered, tilting her head, “He moves around like a ghost with his pale skin and disheveled hair. And dude literally has red eyes even if he isn't using his quirk, so there’s plenty of occasions where he just appears out of thin air and hands out heart attacks like street food flyers.” the student shrugged, “Don’t worry kid, Ishikawa will take you to your otou-san’s class before sensei comes, so you don’t have to feel scared.” 

No sooner had she said that a familiar chakra core neared her radar, a few seconds later the enormous door slid open, and the whole class went mute. 

Now, it was no secret that Asuka was the more openly affectionate among the two. It was just that the audience didn't know that. And the audience not knowing was just more entertaining for her. 

Springing up from her seat, she rushed up to him and hugged his legs. “Papa!”

The temperature in the room went down by several degrees. 

He hummed, patting her head fondly, “My class’s going to start, you can go wait in the principal’s office.”

She nodded, taking two steps to leave, but not before twirling around to face the gobsmacked teenagers. 

“Bye Onee-san’s, Onii-san’s, it was really fun talking to you, I’ll be looking forward to your debut!”

Then she was gone, leaving a bunch of agitated teenagers in her wake. At least now they knew not to judge a book by its cover. 

22nd December, 3100

“Are you guys idiots?” Asuka snapped, looming at both her friends with her hands on her hips. “What happened to all the warnings I gave you?" 

“They were bullying Izuku!” Katsuki shouted.

“That’s right, they were bullying me!” Izuku backed, nodding his head furiously. 

“You think I don’t know that?” The youngest among the three snarled, “Just what do you think I’m mad about?! I did say self-defense was fine, but beating them up black and blue is not self-defense! They’re the same age as you, and they’re ignorant, I get that, but using the teachings I give you to do things like this is something I forbid!"

“We’ll apologize!” Izuku said immediately.

“Yeah, we’ll say s..rry..” Katsuki grumbled. 

Asuka rolled her eyes, “Apologizing won’t be enough. With this level of violence, you both might as well be suspended, or expelled from school. This was not a friendly brawl, you both might be beaten up, but that is nothing compared to what that pile of shit looks like.” she threw her thumb back at the stack of kids grumbling and groaning near the snow-covered see-saw.

“Expelled?!”

“Asuka-chan…” 

Katsuki looked positively frazzled, Izuku was near tears.

Asuka decided it was time to stop scaring the pair of eight-year-olds. 

“Then you’ll heed my warnings this time?” she asked with a raised brow. 

They nodded immediately. 

“You’ll only ever fight when there’s an absolute need for it?” 

Both of them answered simultaneously. 

“Fine then,” she said, leaving them as she walked to the pile of shit. Crouching near a bluenette who flinched almost immediately upon her presence, she lowered her palm, healing his wounds. Then moved on to the next piece of shit.

“Now as for you all,” she regarded the healed, dazed kids sitting on the playground, “patronize my friend about his quirk status again and I’ll personally break your bones and toss you into the ocean, is that clear?” 

Of course, she wouldn't actually do that. There were more viable methods for dealing with the ignorant. 

They scrambled almost immediately after that, one of the stupider ones throwing a shaky threat on how they were going to get them back for the humiliation, the others were fairly sensible and retreated wordlessly. At least most of them wouldn't attempt to ridicule Izuku anymore. 

“You guys should ask your parents to enroll you into a dojo,” she said, taking Katsuki’s hand first as her palm hovered over his knuckles. 

“Why? We already said we won’t do it again!” Katsuki barked, panic clear in his eyes. 

“That’s right, from now on, I’ll just let them bully me, their words don’t affect me anyways!” Izuku said, making her snort. 

“That’s not why I'm saying this.” Asuka retorted, pouring her healing chakra into mending the red-eyed boy's busted lips and a bruised jaw. “Don’t you guys ever question how I know all of this when I don’t get any formal training?” She didn't wait for an answer, “Well, papa’s getting suspicious and he won’t take my excuses for long. And that especially applies to cases like this where you both are beating up kids twice your size.”

“What difference does it make?” Katsuki persisted, flinching when her hands grazed the scratches under his jaw. 

She laughed in answer, moving on to Izuku. 

“Hey Time bomb, now that I think about it, how do you know how to fight so well?” he pondered, tilting his head, “Why’s your quirk named Erasure when that isn't the only quirk you have?” 

This kid, he was asking her this question now ?

She started with Izuku’s scraped shin and knees, then stitched back the scratches on his forearms, “Why don’t you take a guess?” she replied, sarcasm blatant in her tone. 

Katsuki frowned, “Does Oji-san also have dual quirks or something?” 

Izuku tutted, “Kacchan, don’t you get it? It’s a secret .” 

Asuka blinked.

“What secret? ” Katsuki whispered, clearly mind-boggled. 

“That Asuka-chan has a healing quirk. It’s clear that Oji-san doesn't have similar quirks, and do you remember that one time we were at her house and Oji-san got a nasty cut while peeling apples for us? Asuka-chan didn't step in to heal him, so it's obviously a secret.”

Asuka realized she severely underestimated Izuku’s mind prowess. 

“What?” the blond repeated, “Why would you keep such a secret from Oji-san? He asked, distinctly confused. “Isn't it great that you have dual quirks? I’d boast about having it.” 

Of course, he’d boast about having it. 

“Because my healing is not a quirk." Well, technically it was. But it wasn't her quirk, quirk. 

She didn't miss the way both of them stilled. 

“I can’t elaborate on that point right now, but that’s all you guys have to know,” she explained, finishing with the greenette’s healing. “Papa can’t know about it, neither can any other adults. It’s a secret between us, alright?” 

“...but…b-but you just healed those guys?” Katsuki stuttered. 

Izuku, to her surprise, only nodded. “Okay, I’ll take it to my grave.” 

He didn't have to go that far.

Asuka patted his newly healed knee, “Thanks Izuku.” 

“If not a quirk, then what? ” 

Well, she supposed one of them should have a normal reaction. 

“Asuka-chan just said it’s a secret, why’re you slow today Kacchan?” Izuku reprimanded, “Should I explain it to you again?” he said, making Asuka suppress a laugh, “See, secrets are meant to be confusing, alright? It’s like Kaa-chan saying that my Tou-san is overseas, but I know he isn't. She thinks her ‘secret’ is hidden, and I find it confusing that she thinks it’s a secret, but I think secrets are meant to be confusing so it’s alright!” 

...what the—

Katsuki made a face, "The fuck kind of logic is that?"

Izuku rolled his eyes, “Asuka-chan said it’s not her quirk, so I believe her, I mean, has she ever lied to us?” 

Katsuki shook his head. 

“Right?” Izuku brightened. 

Either way, this was favorable to her. “‘kay let’s go, I’ll treat you guys to ice cream,” she said, beckoning them to follow her. 

They followed her without a second thought, snow crunching under their feet as they skipped out of the park with merry faces. 

9th April, 3101

Asuka had a lot more free time after Katsuki and Izuku enrolled in a dojo. Her evenings spent on tutoring and sparing with them went to more strolls around her neighborhood, baking lessons with Mitsuki, and more book-hunting adventures. She also spent plenty of time with her father since Kayama and Hizashi, contrary to his deduction, were exponentially busy with their married lives. Or more like Kayama was going through her first trimester, and her mood swings were off the charts. 

She pranced on the side of the road with a strawberry lolly in hand, nearing the park to have some quality people-watching time. Taking a left, she hopped on the pavement, then scowled on impulse.

“Asuka-chan.” 

She took an aggressive chunk out of her lolly and stared at the woman. 

“What, you won’t greet you baa-chan?” 

More like couldn't she fuck off?

“Papa said if any old obaa-san with blue eyes and blonde hair tries to talk to me I should run the other way immediately.” 

“Shota said that?” 

He actually didn't. He had only told her to tell him if she attempted anything shady. But talking to her was plenty shady.

“Yes.” she lied, turning to run the other way immediately. 

“Wait,” her grandmother said— pleaded , “won’t you spare me a few minutes? Please?” 

Asuka didn't want to. There was no use in maintaining such a relationship. She was her granddaughter, so what? Was this woman trying to be nice to her while her relationship with her father was still in tatters? 

“I have freshly made anmitsu cups.” 

Well, she supposed she could spare five minutes of her precious time.

They settled on a park bench a few meters from the playground. She sat on one end, her grandmother sitting on the other. Then she took out the anmitsu cups from her bag and placed them between them. 

She claimed her bribe— her anmitsu cups,  

“....does Shota speak badly of me? Is that why you hate me?” her grandmother spoke tentatively.

More like Asuka had seen a very interesting spectacle when she was only a few months old and couldn't wipe out the feelings of disgust she had for her. “Papa doesn't speak ill of you,” she answered, opening the cup, and discarding it along with the empty lolly stick, “but Papa doesn't seem to like you either, so I don’t like you.” 

The old woman sighed. “I see.” 

“Why doesn't he like you?” 

“I…failed him.” she smoothed over her formal skirt. “I would say he hates me for a good reason. I despised Shota for quite a while because he resembled my late husband. Being a single mother, took a heavy toll on me; finding jobs, managing the house, looking after a kid that always reminded me of what I had lost…it all just piled onto me and he bore the brunt of it all. I regret it, I really do.” Her blue eyes shined genuinely. 

“By the time I came to my senses, it was already too late. Shota hates me and wants nothing to do with me." she chuckled mirthlessly, making her face look more aged than it was.

"Then why are you trying so hard with me?" Asuka retorted, munching on a piece of strawberry. 

She sighed again. “I don’t know, it’s not like I’m going to fix anything by talking to a granddaughter who hates me.” 

Well, at least she had that figured out. 

Asuka chewed on thinly sliced bananas and Kiwis, relishing the burst of flavors in her mouth. 

“You know, I was very curious.” her grandmother spoke again, “Shota...it’s not like I knew much about him to begin with except for how gloomy and career-driven he was.”

That’s how she described her son.

“And as far as I knew, he wasn't involved with any other woman except for your… your kaa-san.” 

Asuka didn't miss her grandmother’s face scrunching at the end of the sentence. It was similar to how her father would scrunch his face whenever he cleaned the litter box. 

"I met her, your kaa-san, I mean.” 

...was this some sort of bait? Was she supposed to care?

“Read the case files and everything.” she continued, pity apparent in her eyes. 

Asuka tossed her cup into the bin and started her second cup. “I’m not curious about her. I already know she’s a terrible person, and Papa’s already agreed to let me see her if I wanted to— which I don't . He's enough for me.” 

An odd expression took over her face, red-painted lips pursing as her hold on the handbag tightened. 

“Okay.” she finally said, nodding somberly. “It wasn’t my intention to make you meet her, but I just thought you'd be a little curious about who she was. I know the troubles of a single parent—” 

“Aizawa-san , ” Asuka cut in, her face blank except for her stuffed cheeks. “I don’t know the reason why you’d make the effort to visit me. You’re feeling guilty for how you treated Papa? Then fix that. Nothing’s going to change if you keep reaching out to me.” The hurt on grandmother’s face didn't move her heart, “Be direct with Papa if you want to fix things, he’s a gentle person with a soft heart, and he might be willing to forgive you if you put in a butt load of effort.” 

She hauled her final cup into the bin along with the plastic spoon, “You’re still his kaa-san, his dislike for you shows a lot of feelings even if you can’t see it.” 

She jumped off the bench, dusting her pants. 

Her grandmother was still her father’s mother, even if she did treat him terribly. But she was willing to mend her faults, atone for her sins, and felt guilty . That itself showed that she was better than her mother. The past couldn't be dissolved and simply forgotten, but the future was uncertain and full of possibilities, so who knew if her grandmother would manage to receive her father’s forgiveness? 

“Asuka-chan,” her grandmother called. 

Asuka looked up, finding blue eyes brimming with tears, bearing an odd semblance of a melting iceberg.

She remembered the jabs and jeers. The viper words and discouraging taunts she had imparted the first time they met. She remembered the tautness in her posture and the sheer frost in her gaze. 

There was none of that taciturnity now.

Asuka was forcibly pulled into a hug, too shocked to push her away. 

“Baa-chan will win you both over!” she wailed, halting any struggle, “I-I’m sorry for being terrible!” The hug tightened, and despite the former shock and the twinge of repulsion, the soft smell of fabric softener convinced her to stay. 

Asuka patted her back awkwardly as she attempted to comfort her. 

After what seemed to be a rather long session of emptying her tear ducts, she detached from her, still sniffing and red. “I’m sorry, I was...I was just very overwhelmed.” 

Asuka hummed in reply. 

“Since...since I soiled your shirt, won’t you accept this from me?” 

Her eyes bulged, witnessing the thickness of the money her grandmother produced from her glossy handbag. 

“It's fine!”

“Is this much not enough? I have more.” her grandmother urged. 

Was she out of her mind?! 

“I don’t need that much money and Papa will probably hang me upside down if I accept something like this!” 

The woman sniffed, tucking her wad of cash into her bag. 

Then somehow or the other, Asuka managed to weasel herself out of the park, freeing herself from the emotional clutches of her grandmother by giving her a list of herbs she needed to concoct an eye tonic, and her grandmother was too occupied with her jubilance to consider why her request was so odd. 

2nd October, 3101

“I thought you liked Edgeshot.” 

“Yeah, but not enough to get a bag with his face in it.” Asuka said, scrunching her nose at the blue and red atrocity, “Do you know how badly that would go with my clothes? I have a reputation to keep, you know?” 

Shota snorted, “Your classmates call you Akuma Asuka, I don’t think your reputation can get any worse.” 

“What’s wrong with the name? I like it.” She picked a set of sparkly pens from the rack, placing them inside the basket her father was wheeling, “And it’s much better than Sadako sensei.”

“I happened to like the nickname too.” he returned smoothly, his unoccupied hand reaching for a case of new pencils and two neon erasers.

The eight-year-old rolled her eyes, focusing on the list instead. 

Today’s shopping venture was dedicated to Kayama’s upcoming baby shower. Her father was busy during day time with his teaching job, and he’d usually adjust his patrol between 9 pm to 3 am, but ever since the hero coursework studies had initiated, he switched back to 6 pm shifts, and agreed to accompany her to this trip after convincing him of how happy both his friends would be that he, Aizawa Shota, did something so out of the ordinary. 

“Papa, which gender did you wager on?” 

“Is there a point to this wager?” 

“Of course there is, the winners get money! ” 

“I have money.” he retorted, gently pushing her to the next aisle which happened to hold a variety of party supplies. 

She almost tumbled, saved from colliding into a rack of streamers when he tugged her collar, and steadied her, “So do other people who’re betting on the baby’s gender,” she insisted, acting like she hadn't just tripped over her own feet, “even I placed a bet.” 

“Should I be worried that you’re into gambling when you can’t even walk straight?”

“I can walk straight!”

He gave her a pointed look, “You’re not even denying the gambling bit.” 

Asuka shrugged, “Well, seeing that you’re not participating, I’m not going to give you the winning gender.” 

He ruffled her hair, “Sure kid, do your best.” 

There was a part of her that squawked at him for treating her platinum-level information so insignificantly when he was the only one she offered it to, but another more rational part sang a different tune, celebrating at the prospect of winning while other people would think it was a mere fluke.

Aizawa Asuka was, after all, a living, breathing cheat character in this world.

After shopping all the stationeries needed for the event, their next stop happened to be the bakery. As they entered the cheery premise wafting with the smell of heaven, her mouth salivated. There was nothing that topped desserts. Nothing . 

No sooner had they taken their seat to order the sample cakes, a tremor overtook the establishment, rising commotion amongst the customers, and immediately, her father pulled her next to him, his sharp eyes scanning for the source of the sound. 

When it was clear that they were safe where they were, he stood up, telling her to stay put as he rushed out the door. 

Asuka couldn't stay still.

Her legs itched to run towards the source of shrieks and screams, even sirens were blaring and more people exited the bakery. At this point, she followed them outside to get a scope of the situation, her eyes darting to the large bouts of smoke, a raging sea of fire in the place of the mall they had just exited. 

‘BANG!’

Another tremor shook the ground, shrieks and screams rising all around her. She miserably failed to keep her legs stable within a cluster of people running for cover, and a strangled scream escaped her when someone trampled on her hand. It tempted her to blast her way through the overwhelming crowd, she coaxed herself with the thought of how they were just panicking civilians. She laced her limbs with chakra and trudged her way against the current to reach where her father probably was. Then something wrapped around her torso and she was flying in the air. 

“I told you to stay inside,” he grunted, disgruntled as he observed the footprints on her shirt, and blood on her arm. 

Asuka frowned, “I was worried for you!” 

He grumbled incoherently and didn't unwrap her from his weapon bindings as he jogged over to the secured premise surrounded by police tape. Stretching it over his head, he entered the zone swarming with professionals, heading straight in the direction where the medics were at. 

* 

“It’s bad, the main entrance is blocked because of the latest explosion and we’re still not certain of how many people are stuck inside. The drones we sent over the mall aren't helping either, the heat is too intense. We’ll get them back up once the fire’s tame.” Sansa glanced over to the ginormous wreckage clad in flames and smoke, “Manual suggested suspending the heroes along with the firefighters into the mall through the escalator, they’ll initiate the action as soon as the central plaza is within their sight.” 

Naomasa sighed, “Right, and what about Perino?”

“We sent a request to his agency, he should be on his way.” Eizo spoke, pocketing his phone, “And Thirteen is also on her way.” 

“Detective.” a voice interrupted them. 

Naomasa turned his head, acknowledging Eraserhead with a nod. “I’m going in with Manual and the others on the first escalator.” he said, Naomasa didn't miss the oxygen mask hanging around his neck, “My daughter is getting treated in ambulance three, could you please make her stay in your car? I don’t have anyone that can take her home right now.”

Naomasa blinked, Eraserhead had a daughter? “Sure,” he said instead. 

Eraserhead nodded, “Thanks.” 

And then he was off, jogging towards the firetruck supporting the escalator. 

“Since when did he have a daughter?” Eizo questioned, quirking a brow.

Sansa’s whiskers twitched, “Fresh outta high school, probably.” 

Naomasa normally didn't dwell on things that weren't any of his business, especially regarding people’s personal lives, but for Sansa to say something so unorthodox, did raise a minor question in his head. 

“What? Don’t look at me like that.” Sansa huffed, “I have a sensitive nose, remember? Eraserhead is a familiar face in the police station. He always managed to smell like milk powder and baby cologne.”

Eizo snorted, but before he could retaliate, Perino entered the barricaded area and headed straight for them. 

Naomasa left the briefing to his partner, turning to walk to ambulance no.3, his eyes scanning for Eraserhead’s daughter. There were two people in the ambulance, one was an adult wearing medical garbs, the other was a small kid who was observing the strips of bandages on her arm, her shirt soiled with footprints and dirt, and braided black hair disheveled. 

As he went on approach the kid, her head tilted up, staring into his eyes that seemed to…seemed to scrutinize him? Then the effect disappeared and he was gazing into innocent green gems, and she stood up, hopping off the ambulance, bidding the nurse goodbye. 

“You’re the detective Oji-san, right?” she asked, adjusting the strap of her green bag. “Papa said I’m supposed to listen to you until he comes back.” 

“Um, yes, detective Tsukauchi Naomasa, please to meet you..?...” 

“Aizawa Asuka.” she filled in, beaming so brightly that it competed with the flames engulfing the mall. 

“Alright, Asuka-chan,” he said, offering a smile as he gently guided her to where his car was, “Eraserhead told me to make sure you stayed safe until he comes back, so you’ll be staying inside my car.” 

“Can you leave the window down, oji-san?” she requested from beside him. 

Naomasa bit his cheek. The inside of his car was mildly soundproof, and with the chaos going on within the crime scene, he didn't want to risk her hearing any gorey talks or spare her attention from the onslaught of people that were being rescued and treated. 

“I don't think that’s a good—”

“ Please? ” she cut him off, tugging his coat along with her plea, “I want to see Papa come out safely!” 

“A-alright.” 

“Thank you oji-san!” 

Soon he had settled her inside with the window mid-way down, then returned to his team who was lingering only a few meters away from his car. “Did Perino make a deduction?” 

“It isn’t looking too good.” Sansa informed, “Only eighty-seven people made it out before the main entrance collapsed, and calculating the number of people rescued from the north exit, it’s a total of sixty-two people. One escalator just came down with a dozen people, but there’s still an estimate of four to five hundred people stuck inside—”

‘BANG!’

Naomasa flinched, his gaze landing on the new and increased bouts of smoke bursting out of the mall. 

“This isn't good,” Eizo said, the older man’s eyes landing on the lowering escalator. 

“Oi, head captain, what the hell just happened?” Sansa yelled, his ear twitching at the frequency. 

Naomasa clapped the orange-furred man’s back, signaling him to calm down. There was no way the firemen would know what the source of the explosion was, all they could do was estimate. Judging by the sequence of the explosions, Naomasa pondered whether this was timed or just the consequences of the raging fire. 

Shortly after the eruption, Thirteen arrived on the scene along with Edgeshot. The latter left to aid with the north exit while Thirteen cleared the rubble littering the main entrance, subsequently making their jobs a great deal easier. Gear, who was included in the first escalator party that left with Manual and Eraserhead stayed behind on his third trip down, securing the entrance with his metal beams, allowing an easy passage for the firefighters and the remaining heroes to access the hedged-in civillains. 

Naomasa was so preoccupied with everything that he only had the time to check on Eraserhead’s daughter when Perino confirmed a drastic decrease in people entrapped in the mall. But his stomach flipped when he realized that the car was empty, void of the person he left inside it. Then—

‘BANG!’

** 

Asuka knew she was going to get in a whole lot of trouble for being the hard-headed thing that she was. 

Her father told her to stay put in the bakery, she stayed for mere seconds before being trampled under a mob of terrified people. 

Her father told her to stay with the detective until he was back, and she planned to, but the explosions scared the shit out of her. 

Despite the agitation swirling above her navel, she still trusted her father to be a hero, and do his job as a hero— but heroes weren't invincible.

But not once did he come out from the inferno like Manual, Gyro, and Kore were doing, so she did what she did best— she seeped her chakra into the ground and controlled it; scanning the ignited structure, crawling it under the debris, and skipping over the unfamiliar cores, with her hands tightened on her knees she focused her entire being on locating that one familiar core of chakra— the same sphere of white that she’d even manage to recognize in her sleep. 

When she located it though, her limbs advanced subconsciously. 

His sphere was dimming.

Her heart thrashed in her ribcage as she utilized her flash step, zooming around the cluster of busy professionals with no trouble. Thirteen had cleared the entrance, but her father was much closer to the north exit, even though she’d prefer climbing walls, with the infrastructure being so weak and piping hot, she might be the cause of someone getting buried under concrete. 

Inside was suffocatingly hot, her eyes prickled with the gas and her nose twitched with the heavy air. From her memory of the blueprint she made of the premise, she scurried through the rummage, careful of all the other buzzing presences she might stumble into. But when she came across a cry, a child’s cry , her conscience took a stab. 

Stupid Shinobi Ethics—

Wrapping her scarf around her nose and mouth, she whispered words she hadn’t said since she was four, “Kage Bunshin-no Jutsu.” 

A clone submerged, sucking half her reserves along with it. “Help as many people as you can, and cast a Henge on yourself— don’t you dare let anyone know it’s me!” she barked, taking off once more. Shoving the door to the emergency staircase, she raced upstairs, blowing away any chunks of concrete blocking her path. 

( What she didn’t hear due to her frazzled state of mind was the clone yelling the same piece of advice at her )

With her shirt sticking to her back, and hands covered in burns and scratches, she busted into the fourth floor, zooming towards the West Food Court where her father was. She almost swore out loud when she spotted heroes loading people into the escalator, and while ducking abruptly, she ran into a white-hot door handle. 

A choked cry erupted when her the skin on her arm melted with a nasty sizzle. But she didn't have time to give it a second glance, the adrenaline keeping her sane as she trudged through the littered floor, nearly crying out in triumph when she successfully made it to her destination. 

She activated her quirk to get a clear insight into where she was, spotting his white aura among the other scattered colors. She rushed straight ahead without any reluctance, her lungs closing in at the sight that greeted her. 

“You better not be dead!” she screeched, kneeling beside the motionless body smothered in soot and dust, “Dammit, open your eyes!” her hands pumped in healing chakra, the mint color inspecting his body as she tried to keep her hands from shaking.

“No wonder...” she trailed off, missing the way he shifted. “Where the hell is your oxygen mask, you stupid old man?! Your lungs are overflowing with toxic gas—” growling, she used one palm to filter the toxins in his lung while releasing the waste gas out her other hand. 

“...As..uka..?...”

 “I’m not Asuka.” she returned smoothly, taking off her bag pack, and securing another scarf from it. Using her strength, she helped him sit against a counter, wrapping the scarf around his nose and mouth. It wasn't the most effective mask, but they were on the fourth floor and all she had to do was make his presence known to one of the many rescue workers operating in the building while she skedaddled out the premise, and into the car she was supposed to be in.

It wasn't like her father, in his befuddled state, would know it was her who saved him. He could barely keep his consciousness. 

Standing up, she changed her form into a much more tall individual. She couldn't possibly drag him around, could she? She barely reached his torso. “Come on, we’re going to get out of here,” she said, heaving him up and hanging his arm around her shoulder.

“D..ughter.” 

She gritted her teeth. Curse his sharp deduction, he was barely functioning, did he have to put so much effort into recognizing who was dragging him out of this sweltering inferno? She’d need him to be at least as dumb as Koala to believe the lies if she was caught in this situation. 

“I’m just your average, helpful civilian, Hero-san. Now let’s hurry along, we need to get some fresh oxygen in your lungs!” she chirped, supporting his waist as they ambled out of the path she had cleared. 

“..Li..ar..” 

“We’ll be there soon.” She said instead, activating her quirk, and inspecting any presence in sight. Luckily the place she had managed to run into the scorching door knob was occupied with plenty of people and she quickened her steps. 

“...when we..get...home…you're...so…grounded…”

Why was his speech improving?!  

Her perturbation manifested in a peal of maniacal laughter, “Alright, this supporting-you thing, while we both limp over to safety, is getting kind of tiring, so I'm just going to carry you,” she swiped him off his feet, “It’ll be much quicker, Hero-san!”

“...in so much….trouble.” his eyes fluttered open and she quickened her pace, jumping over debris and kicking the ones she couldn’t hop over. Fortunately, she spotted a team of rescuers lurking in the intersecting hallway, so she placed him near a sturdy store that didn't have any flames affecting it.

Crouching, she patted his chest to relay her farewell. “You don’t have to pay me back, I’m a very selfless soul so I save people for free all the time.” 

A shiver ran down her spine when he tilted his head, half-lidded eyes achieving to look scathing even when he was at his weakest. 

She offered him a shaky smile, taking that as a queue to leave. Then—

‘BANG!’

With an ear-shattering blast, the ground beneath her shook fervently so that she could only hold on with the help of her chakra. Her eyes lay on her father who had slumped to a side from all the convulsion, wreckage perilously raining near him. Before she could so much as move to fend him off the attack, an ominous creak yawned above her, a precariously hanging beam a mere breath away from crushing her vulnerable father. 

A more logical part of her voiced there were more viable options.

Another argued the safety of other innocent people if she did so.

The veteran in her whispered sinister words.

But the reckless spirit in her roared in defiance, and she loaded her soles with chakra, crumbling the ground beneath her as she lunged for the still body susceptible to the oncoming crush. And when the accursed thing landed on her back and made her choke on her scream, she was just glad she wasn’t dying from hunger. 

*

Chapter Text

2nd October, 3101

Shota had an ominous dream. 

In the dream, he’s saving people like he’s supposed to. He’d cleared rubble with the help of his colleagues and rescued injured people, he’d coaxed scared children with the promise of safety, and he had even given up his oxygen mask to a pregnant woman. After doing that Manual had told him to take a trip down the escalator to get a new mask because he wouldn’t last very long in the burning premise brimming with hazardous gasses. Shota had quipped back a quick reply saying he would and ran towards another cry for help. 

Maybe he should have listened, because right after he’d assisted an elderly couple and their grandchild, he wasn't able to keep his legs stable. Soon he was tripping over his own feet, and landed on the littered floor, hands struggling to heave himself up and back to safety. 

In the dream, in the exceedingly realistic dream , he remembered losing consciousness which was weird because how could one lose consciousness in a dream? 

It got more ominous from there. 

His eight-year-old daughter had somehow apparated to where he was, her face blurring in his eyes, but her voice was clear. Asuka called him an old man while proclaiming he better not be dead , and he pondered why she wasn't calling her Papa right before his worries busted to a more pragmatic conclusion; Why the fuck was she here in the first place?

The dream turned more unconventional. And Shota didn't care whether dreams weren't supposed to make sense, his daughter was somewhere she had no business being, even in his subconscious, it was unacceptable. 

Asuka had a different appearance, (But that was just the workings of this ominous dream), he would recognize her bright orbs, and soothing voice anywhere. It made zero sense that his clumsy daughter would carry him princess style , nor was he happy about receiving such an eccentric vision, but then there was an ear-splitting rupture, sending his dastardly weak body to a topple from where his daughter who proclaimed she wasn't his daughter left him. 

Soon after the quake, his sight diminished immediately. And through this ominous dream, he recalled with scary distinction, his consciousness only faded when an unknown force met with his body. 

Now that he was sentient, the anomalous vision he had was setting off exceedingly distressing spikes inside him, and due to the severity of what he had inhaled and the apparent concussion he needed to get treated, he wasn't even allowed to appease his unambiguous need to see his daughter safe and sound where she was expected to be; inside detective Tsukauchi’s car. 

“Can I go now?” he gritted for the fourth time. 

The neon-haired paramedic gave a small smile, but Shota knew she was irked from the way her eyebrows kept twitching. “I’d recommend you get a CT scan first, you’re in no condition to continue your hero duties, Eraserhead-san.” 

“I get it, I’m not going to do anything strenuous, now can I leave?” he snapped, his patience hitting rock bottom. 

He took her disapproval as an answer. Sliding off the bed he was seated on, he weaved past the plethora of other people at a high pace, his destination stark and clear. He could deal with the consequences of his injury later, but Asuka was more important now. 

Shota was rarely a superstitious person, he didn't believe in astrology, or black cats crossing the road, or whatever the fuck people came up with, but this nightmare he had achieved produced an itch inside him that he couldn’t soothe, and he was sure it wasn’t going to until he saw her safe.

Shota contemplated searching the cars, but he wasn't sure whose was whose, and the number of cars since he had first come to the scene had risen, so headed to where he was certain where the cat-headed detective would be.

Naomasa wasn’t there. 

“Oh, Eraserhead.” Sansa called, “If you’re here to find Tsukauchi then he’s not here.”

The bubble in his chest grew, “Where’s he then?” 

Eizo scratched his stubble, “He took off in a hurry, didn’t tell us where he went.” 

His bone chilled, “My daughter,” he said, almost scared to ask, “Which car is my daughter in?” 

The thudding of his heartbeat was nearly unbearable as he skidded off in the direction Sansa pointed, his head pulsing and sides aching with the injuries he gained as he came to an abrupt halt in front of an empty car. 

An empty car.

“Eraserhead!” gray eyes darted at the source of the voice, “ Your daughter ,” Naomasa panted, sweat manning his forehead, face contoured in a manner Shota didn't like in the least, “she was found under the rubbles just now.”

The bubble finally popped. 

* 

Hizashi didn't know what to expect when he got an immensely distressing call from Thirteen asking him to go over to the Musutafa First Care hospital because his niece (That’s what he flaunted around in the staffroom), was in a terrible accident. And as if that phone call wasn’t aggravating enough, Shota didn't pick up his phone, so Hizashi had to ditch patrol and scurry to the hospital, only to find his raven-haired best friend staring at the wall opposite to where he sat, his gray eyes blank as a dead fish. 

Now he was deeply unsettled. “Sho, what the hell happened?” he prodded gently, taking a seat beside him. 

The Mall explosion was breaking news right now. Did Asuka get caught in the middle of it? Was that what happened? It was a common conclusion, but that conclusion made his palms numb, and toes furl inside his boots. It was horrifying enough the first time Asuka managed to land herself in the hospital, but this time she was sent into surgery .

“...we were out shopping.” Hizashi winced at the monotonous tone. “It was a quick trip, shouldn't have been more than an hour. We made it out of the mall after that and went to a nearby bakery…”

Shota’s recollection made his bones chill.

Hizashi found the facts of the situation more horrifying. If what Shota said was true, if they truly got out of the bomb-rigged mall safe and sound, if they managed to escape, if Asuka was supposed to be under the care of Tsukauchi while Shota attended to his job if Asuka had somehow managed to pass streams of professionals and reached the highest floor of the burning establishment just to save Shota — which was fucking outrageous because the kid was eight and had no means to do what Shota described to him.

“I know it sounds crazy.” Shota interrupted, Hizashi didn’t miss the way his fist clenched. “But it wasn't a dream. Asuka was really there, she did something, and I’m here alive because of it, and she’s in that ICU fighting for her life because of it.” 

Hizashi’s heart squeezed. “Asuka-chan’s a fighter always has been.” he said, ignoring the large lump in his throat, “She’ll get out of that surgery in no time.” 

“You don't get it , Hizashi,” Shota said, voice cracking and horror filling his eyes. “She was covered in blood, her whole body was covered in blood and… and her leg was twisted. The fucking bone was sticking out of her…” he paused, taking in a shaky breath. Hizashi was about to suggest they stop talking because this was making him miserable too. 

“It was like…” Shota trembled, “ it was like Shirakumo all over again .”

His chest seared. 

“Sho,” he said, finding it extremely hard to support his friend with his usual optimism. “You should get cleaned up, the surgery will take up a few more hours.” 

Shota shook his head, eyes directed at the metal doors guarding the operation theatre. 

“I’m worried about her too.” he pressed, “But you need serious medical attention, the wound on your head is bleeding through the bandage. You have to be in top shape when you see her, Asuka-chan is a terrible nagger, you know?” 

“No.” 

Hizashi didn't attempt to convince him after that, but he did get a nurse to check out his wound and get him to drink a cup of coffee. The hospital wasn't a quiet place today, the intercom was buzzing in his ear like a fly, sirens sounded from afar, and ever so occasionally, people in scrubs were running in the corridors with their eyes reaching their forehead. 

Hizashi was used to such chaos because of his line of work, but presently, sitting next to his somber best friend caked in ash and dust, the usual numbness he wore to such scenes was dissolved to nothingness. 

It was like Shirakumo all over again…  

But Shirakumo never survived the crash. 

What was he supposed to do when Shota made such a blatant comparison? It certainly didn't give him hope. 

Shota had given him a vague description of her condition, but Hizashi had received a more detailed one from a nurse he encountered on his venture for coffee. ‘....it’s one of the most terrible cases to come in tonight, Doctor Ume made a quick diagnosis with his quirk; heavy internal bleeding, spine fracture(s) ,   multiple abrasions, there were pieces of metal embedded near her lower back, and gosh… the poor kid even had a nasty compound fracture in her right tibia… we informed the guardian… Kami no one should ever go through such a thing…’

He agreed, no one should ever go through such a thing. Especially such a pure soul like his Firefly. 

‘BAM!’

“Aizawa Shota-san?!” A horned nurse stepped out the metal door, “Please wear this and step into the surgery room!” 

Hizashi blinked at the unorthodox request.

*

Shota fumbled with the suit the nurse had given him, wearing the gloves, masks, and other pieces of clothing before stepping inside the operation room. 

“Aizawa-san?” Doctor Ito sounded, his tone bunched with so much worry that Shota presumed bad news. 

But they would’ve given him the bad news outside, why the hell did he have to suit up for this?

“What’s wrong with her?” he asked, eyes darting to the crowd of medics surrounding Asuka. 

“Well, according to her file, her quirk’s Erasure.” Doctor Ito explained, his brows furrowed, “But strange markings are developing on her body. Her blood pressure keeps elevating in short intervals and we’ve resuscitated her two times because of this.” 

His heart dropped.

“It's precisely why we need your quirk, Aizawa-san, please make it so that her quirk does not act up while we’re performing her surgery." 

His heart crawled back to its place with newfound enthusiasm. 

“I’ll do it.” he agreed without missing a beat. 

The doctor nodded. 

Wait —

“What markings are you talking about?” he demanded, regaining his senses. Erasure wasn’t connected to any markings. It was an optical quirk that activated with distinct traits like changing eye colors and aviating hair; there were no markings included in the description.

The doctor tilted his head, his finger pointing to the cluster of people surrounding the operating table, “The black markings spreading from her collar bones.” 

Shota’s eyebrows furrowed, moving from the entrance, sliding past the tray containing a disturbing amount of stark, red stips of clothes. When he saw her though, bile rose in his throat. 

Her right leg looked downright sinister, her posture on the bed was odd. The bad kind of odd. He could quite literally see her internal organs spilling out as another doctor stitched an organ he couldn't name while some other blue-gloved individual put a white strip inside her, only to dip it out with a fresh coat of red. 

Her hands held burns that reflected his heart, innocent ivory skin marred in ugly browns, and flecks of red. Bruises littered everywhere he stared, her posture odd and crooked, the fucking bone still sticking out her leg. He clenched his hands and forced himself to breathe steadily, focusing on the odd marking the doctor had found.

In the middle of her collar bones, a hollow diamond gave leeway to the rest of the vines running up her eyes, the thick linings intersected oddly at her forehead, then dipped down the side of her face and disappeared somewhere behind her nape and beneath her shoulder. 

“That doesn't have anything to do with erasure,” he pronounced, loud enough for Doctor Ito to hear. 

“Page doctor Sanami.” Doctor Ito announced. 

Promptly after, the ECG machine went wild, blaring noisily, signifying impending danger. Shota didn't need a reminder of why he was here. He activated his quirk. 

“Aizawa-san!” 

“I’m doing it!” he snapped back.

“Why isn't it working?!”  

How was he supposed to know?!

“Dr Ito, her blood pressure is rising again!”

“Prepare the AED!” 

“Clear the space!” 

Why wasn't it working?!

“It’s spreading more rapidly than before!” 

“Hurry up!” 

Don’t die!

“ Eeek! It’s wrapping around me too!”

“What?!” 

“Where’s Dr Sanami?!” 

“She’s on her way— Miyamura, don’t move from there!”

Don’t leave me!

“Kyahh!” 

“Look at her wounds!” 

Shota’s heartbeat was louder in his ear than the havoc in the operation theatre. It was wrapping around her more frantically, cladding around her like a second skin, intertwining around her chest, sliding across her abdomen, encasing her limbs— 

‘Crack’ 

“Kami, this is…”

“Dr Ito…”

To Shota’s heightening terror, her body starts shifting on its own volition, making her abdomen jut upwards before she lands flat on her back. 

‘Rip’ — ‘squelch’ — ‘crack’ —

The bone retreats, securing itself in its place, leaving a perfect unscathed leg.

Her organs form a sagacity of their own, returning inside where it’s supposed to, stitching itself back together, leaving no blemish in its wake.

“This...this is a miracle.”

Bruises fade like footprints on a beach, and her burns mutate to the baby skin she was meant to have.

‘Bam!’ 

“I’m here! I’m here! The hallways are very.. crowded… Did I miss something?” 

**

“Accumulating a quirk in a high-stress situation isn’t unheard of, but Asuka-chan’s case is, more or less, the first of its kind.” Doctor Sanami concluded.

Shota honestly didn't give a shit, what mattered was that she wasn't dying anymore, and that was enough for him. 

“I spoke to Doctor Ume before this, were you aware of a purple diamond between her collar bones before this incident?” The specialist inquired, clasping her hands on the opened file. 

Shota shook his head.

“I see,” Doctor Sanami nodded, “then it must have manifested shortly after her accident.” She offered him a small smile, eyes crinkling at the corners, “Asuka-chan is extremely lucky then, the injuries she gained were potent enough to cripple her, but this miracle quirk...it saved her from the brink of death.” 

Shota wanted to agree, but there was a bitterness lingering behind that halted him from doing so. This manifestation of a new quirk believed to be formed due to mass accumulation of stress; didn't sit well with him, not when the brutal rollercoaster of a ride Asuka had to go through to emerge it, not when she had risked her life for his to achieve it. 

For him, no matter the outcome, the truth never stops prodding his mind; he failed as a father. That was plain and clear. Asuka shouldn't have been there in the first place, he should’ve either died in that scorching building or been saved by someone that wasn't his daughter — Shota failed her, he let her end up in such a horrifying state, and the memory seared itself into his mind, assuring him that it would never leave. 

“Yes, it did,” Shota said instead. 

“We’ll have to wait till Asuka-chan wakes up to conclude the paperwork, but in the meantime—”

“When is she going to wake up?” he interrupted, head throbbing from the wound he received. He should get it treated now that Asuka was out of danger.

She unclasped her hand and set it on her lap, “That’s something I can't pinpoint, you should refer to her attending doctor.” 

Judging by her stiff face, Shota presumed bad news. 

3rd October, 3101

[Day one]

“I’m extremely sorry!” 

Shota blinked slowly, slightly taken back by the bowing man before him. 

“You told me to watch over her, but I was too preoccupied to check on her, and when I did she was already gone—”

White noise. His rambling sounded like white noise. Shota supposed he should hear the man out for how sincere he seemed, but he wasn't feeling very generous at the moment. 

After the events that unraveled after the phenomenon in the operating room, Asuka was wheeled off to a private room under Hizashi’s supervision, he was left to deal with the doctors and all the formalities. Shortly after he had a shower, a change of clothes, and a proper scan of his injuries, the fucking hero commission hounded him, sending a text stating an appointment three days after— and as much as Shota knew that a case like Asuka’s was bound to be on their radar for security reasons and that the hero commission wasn’t just for recruiting potential hero candidates, validating licenses, and more of whatnots, he was still ticked off.

Hizashi had forced him to eat something while he sat beside Asuka’s still figure. Kayama came along at one point, and as much as he loved his friends, she started bawling at the sight of her, only adding to his guilt and elevating his throbbing head. Hizashi ended up taking her home right after that, and thankfully he didn't receive any visitors after. But it wasn't like he could catch a wink of sleep either. 

Shota was dead tired, heavily guilt-ridden, and sleepless, so Naomasa dropping in something-something eight in the morning, he didn't bother to check, was not the least bit welcome. 

Although there was a part the detective could be held accountable for, he knew the reality of it was much more complex. The crime scene was a hectic place, with so many professionals on sight, and a plethora of things to manage, he could accept that Naomasa would be too preoccupied to accommodate Asuka— and who in the layers of hell would even think an eight-year-old would infiltrate an actively oxidizing building? 

Heck even Shota couldn't ideate that, what would the detective, a simple colleague, predict? 

But couldn't he have checked on her twice? Or even thrice? It wasn't like Shota asked him to coddle her. 

He understood that Asuka retained altruistic traits, and as much as it was a good thing, it was equally a bad thing— for his heart . Like the time she sprinted onto a busy road to save a dog’s life, or that time where she pushed a random kid away from an oncoming swing during playtime, and retained a terrible nosebleed. 

There also that day when he took her out for shoe shopping, and no sooner had he turned to order drinks, she decided to perch on a gigantic tree to retrieve a balloon for some kid nearby. Not to mention how she went around beating up kids bigger than her because they scorned Izuku, and unequivocally supported Izuku’s dream of being the first quirkless hero even when Inko, his mother, was hesitant about it. 

And now this, plunging into a fire to save her pathetic father. 

He sighed, despite the masses of words on his tongue, he concluded it with a simple statement. “It’s fine,” he said. It wasn't . But it wasn't as if Naomasa apologizing was going to raise her from the coma, nor was he going to hold a grudge. "Asuka has always been an impulsive child.” His half-lidded gaze observed Naomasa’s pursed lips and shaking fists. “I can’t blame you, Tsukauchi-san. This was unpredictable. If anything, I’m the one to blame for putting her anywhere near the crime scene.”

Naomasa bit his cheek, “Still, you gave me a minute task while risking your life inside the fire, and because of my ineptitude, your daughter was injured to such an extent.” he put a hand on his chest and gave a slight bow, “Even if by some miracle, she is healed and unscathed right now, I cannot overlook my mistake. I am truly sorry, Aizawa-san.” 

“Like I said,” he drawled, slumping on his seat, “it’s fine.” 

After the dissatisfied detective left, he let his head fall on the bed next to her scorch-free hand, grunting at how the stiff sheets brushed his skin and closed his eyes. 

* 

By 12:52, the room was the most crowded since eight something-something. 

Both Midoriya's and the Bakugou’s dropped by with arms full of gifts. From Inko he received a warmly packed lunch for himself, and a cloth bag full of fruits. Izuku had sauntered off to the bedside and nestled on the chair he was on mere seconds before their arrival. Mitsuki gifted him a whole jar of eclairs, two packets of caramel candy, and one pack of candy cane for— ‘ For when the little brat wakes up!’ 

Masaru gave him a fresh bouquet of peonies along with a fancy-looking jar of coffee, and of course, Katsuki joined Izuku, both kids watching Asuka with almost teary eyes. 

Izuku started sniffling. “O-oji-san, she’s not going to be like this forever, right?” 

His chest seared. “She’ll wake up.” He just didn't know when, but she'd wake up. She had to wake up.

"Stupid ‘zuku,” Katsuki grumbled, “Time bomb’s not going to die, she’s too awesome to die.” 

Izuku giggled, wiping at his eyes, “I should’ve recorded that.” 

Shota turned away from the heartwarming sight, putting down the gifts on the small coffee table near the leather sofa. 

“We heard the details from Hizashi-kun. It's truly terrible that she was stuck in the mall during such a time.” 

So Hizashi didn't tell them everything .

He swallowed, shifting the table to the side so that they could take a seat, “Don’t worry.” Mitsuki whispered this time, “Katsuki and ‘Zuku don’t know anythin’ much except that she just got hurt badly and had to be hospitalized.”

With the coffee mix in hand, he turned to face them once more, eyes meeting Inko’s mellow ones, then shifted to Mitsuki. Masaru was with the kids, lightly commanding them not to do anything brash. 

Shota made coffee from the tiny kitchen. He served them in paper cups, and having nothing for the kids, he exited the room to find the nearest vending machine, slotting in two coins, and retrieving two cans of orange juice. As he trudged towards the room with two cool cans in each of his hands, his far peripheral vision caught a bob of blonde hair. 

… Kaa-san?

His assumption was confirmed when he caught her eyes, looking like a deer caught in headlights before she ducked under her glossy black bag, scurrying out as if he was blind to her scuttling towards the exit. 

What the fuc— Nope. He was not dealing with this today. Tolerating her at home whenever she dropped into his house with no warning whatsoever while having plenty of anmitsu cups for Asuka was enough to grind his gears, he did not have time to indulge her today.

Huffing, he returned to the room and gave both kids their beverages. 

“Oji-san, you look more hurt than Asuka-chan,” Izuku commented, an orange mustache painted on his upper lips. 

“Well, duh,” Katsuki sipped his juice, “Time bomb only fainted from the explosion, Oji-san’s a Hero, so obviously he got more hurt than her.”

He wished that was the case. 

“Oh, right!” Izuku chirped, tugging his yellow bag from one shoulder as he zipped it open and dug inside it, “I made get-well-soon cards for both of you!” 

Shota ruffled the green fluff of hair, a small smile tugging his lips at the way Izuku’s pine-colored orbs shimmered. It was so much like his daughter's. “I’ll put this up on the side table.”

“And this is from me,” Katsuki took out his bag, carefully taking out papers— origami, he realized. “It’s a bear and a cub,” he said, ear tips reddening, “I heard bears are symbols of strength, courage, and healing.” 

"Aw, Our brat is growing up so well!” Mitsuki cooed, promptly, throwing an arm around her husband as the flustered man sputtered in agreement. 

Shota patted the blond’s head, “Thank you.” he said, fondness abundant in his tone. 

Shortly after, they left the room with promises of visiting soon, Shota slumped on his designated seat, chugging down his cold coffee in one gulp. “Do you see how many people are waiting for you?” he asked her, watching for movement on her pale face. 

Upon no answer, he crushed the cup and tossed it into the bin. 

5th October, 3101

[Day Three]

A warmth that stuck no matter the angle, a fluid so soothing that slumber was the only alternative, darkness which wasn’t inherently scary, just knowing, freeing . Motions that sometimes sloshed her to a barricade, giving glimpses of minor hardship, but that was it. That was the only hardship. It wasn’t an endless sea of cordiality or vagueness, it stuck, it swaddled her in a hug, she was cognizant, but this… this was different. 

Warmth didn’t stick like a second skin, breeze tickled her occasionally, and whispers sounded with lethargy, nonetheless, it still lulled her to inertia. This was freeing too, just not compared to the first… first time she died?

Pink brows furrowed, but eyes stayed shut. 

If this wasn't a womb, then what was this?

* 

“—Now remember little listeners, just because your homeroom teacher isn’t here, doesn’t mean any of you get to slack off! I’m just as strict as Aizawa when I’m serious!” he yelled, clapping his hand in front of him. 

“Does that mean you’re not normally serious?” Yamamoto quipped, grinning too widely. Their homeroom teacher had been absent for three days now, and he didn't care what the reason was, this put a halt on their regime, finally allowing him a well-deserved break from all the intense hero work he was doing.

Hizashi laughed, “Well, you can’t be so intense all the time!” 

“But Yamada-sensei,” Hayakawa called, (ever since The Encounter, it had given them some insight on learning their teacher’s actual names instead of referring to them by their aliases) “Why hasn't sensei been able to come? He even came to class after, like, what was the incident that got his left arm fractured?”

“You mean that villain attack near Nakameguro?” Takahashi filled in. 

“Yes!” Hayakawa nodded, “He got a nasty injury, but he still came to teach us, did he fall into a coma or something?” The orange-haired girl inquired, tilting her head curiously. 

“Haha, right, Sho— Aizawa never cuts class, huh?” Hizashi laughed awkwardly. 

“Never is an understatement.” Yamamoto snorted. 

Fujiwara groaned, “He’s always early too.” 

Hizashi scratched behind his neck, contemplating what to give out. “Are you all really that worried about your sensei?" He asked instead, eyeing them with a cheery look.

“Of course we are!” Class President Nakamura exclaimed. 

“That’s right,” Andou agreed, “He’s strict with teaching us, he doesn't beat around the bush, he motivates us in his way, and he’s petty as heck, but we’re so much better than we were compared to last semester. If sensei happens to be injured beyond being able to come to class, or if it’s anything else that serious, and if there’s a chance he might leave U.A., then, of course, we want to know!” 

With her words, more students grew in solidarity.

Hizashi grinned, these kids didn't hate Shota the way his best friend claimed they did. “Alright, alright, I’ll tell you the reason.” Then he sobered, hands clasping on the podium he was standing in front of, regarding the expectant bunch with neutral eyes. “His daughter’s been hospitalized due to some injuries from the latest explosion. It was quite serious, and she’s out of danger now, but Asuka-chan hasn't regained consciousness so…” Hizashi quirked a brow, why the hell did they look so weird about the news?

“Tenshi-sama got injured?!” 

Tenshi?

“Oh Kami, I hope she gains her health soon!” 

“Our savior is bedridden and we didn't even know?!” 

“Yamada-sensei, I would like to send flowers, please pass on the room number!” 

“Poor sensei, he must be so heartbroken! No wonder he ditched school, it was for Tenshi-sama!” 

“Okay, guys! Everyone who wants to send gifts—”

Hizashi stared at the commotion with keen confusion. Tenshi-sama? Savior? Did Shota ever mention something about his class meeting Asuka? — 

Eventually, he ended up hauling all the gifts from the students to the hospital because he wasn’t comfortable giving out the room number so freely. 

*

Shota scrunched his nose. There were so many bouquets occupying the hospital room that the lingering sweetness affected his frontal lobe. It wasn’t only that, the whole coffee table was occupied with baskets of fruits, a plethora of cookie cans, and packets of sweets, there was also a makeshift box he made to fill in all the cards she received from the neighborhood kids, her classmates, and his students . There were also coupons to Amai's bakery, fuzzy socks, and books that came from her ‘supplier’. 

Balloons hung from her bed railing, her raven hair adorned with a messy braid and pretty clip, a work from Sana-chan, her best friend from school. He didn't get to sulk around like he opted to because of how many friends this kid had— and kami that was a good thing but he could not, for the life of him, make small talk— an alarming amount of people from their neighborhood (he even wondered how the hell she befriended people from the Hagane warehouse who were notoriously rumored to be involved with the Tsutsuiji, a bunch of known and widely recognized loan sharks that ran Suji&co). 

Some of his colleagues from work, Sansa and Naomasa from the police station, Big-headed Benjiro who was bashful while handing him a bouquet of chrysanthemums— the point was, there were so many people dropping by that his social battery glitched on the last block by the time it was sundown. 

‘Knock, knock’

Shota almost swore, reluctant to address whoever the hell was at the door.

The door slid open, and he scowled. 

“You don’t have to look so disappointed.” Aizawa Kazue said, her grip on her handbag tightening. 

He swore under his breath, “I’m not in the mood, Kaa-san. ”  

“What, I can’t come to visit my sick granddaughter?” she threw back haughtily. Extremely confident for someone he had seen worming around people to escape from him. 

“In case you haven’t noticed,” he started, throwing his thumb back at Asuka’s motionless figure, “your granddaughter is unconscious and cannot be bribed by anmitsu cups.”

“I’ve been visiting since the first day she was hospitalized.” she countered, closing the door behind her, “I figured you’d be in a foul mood during the first few days, and there were plenty of visitors pouring in so I didn’t want to intrude.” 

Covering a short distance, she sat herself on the sofa, placing her glossy bag next to her lap. “I said I wanted to change and I mean it.” 

“A bit too late for that.”

Blue eyes flashed with hurt, prickling his conscience, but he refused to give in, “I didn't want to say anything in front of Asuka, but I’ll say this now; you may have supported me financially, but that was it. From the time I’ve been mature enough to form memories, there’s not a single one I can say I cherish relating to you.” 

A fire lit his chest and burned his throat, “I was hopeful that you’d turn around and get better, that you’d stop seeing Tou-san in my place, and be fucking adult enough to separate your issues with your dead husband and your son, that you’d see that I was trying to be the best that I could even when I didn't have a clear head on why you’d treated me the way you did.” his grip on the arms of his chair grew taut, eyes glazing unwittingly. 

Kazue grew teary-eyed, “I-I’m sorry, I truly am.” 

“Sorry doesn't cut it.” he seethed, “Sixteen years of my life— sixteen years of my life I had to deal with the same stifling home, an emotionally stunted mother, and guilt I shouldn't have to bear. Was it my fault that he died? Is being financially burdened any reason to abuse your child?! Why must I forgive you just because you happened to feel bad for the wrongdoings you’ve committed?” his chest heaved, standing up from the chair and staring down at her form. 

“Asuka is not your fucking leeway, stop using her.” he turned away from her, facing his daughter as his hands wrapped around the bed railing. 

He heard her sigh heavily. “I know you hate me.” she said shakily, “And I’m not asking you to forget those years of pain I’ve caused you, I’m a terrible parent, I know that. ” 

Heels clacked behind him, nearing closer and closer until they passed him to the other side of the bed. Shota refused to look at her. 

“That day...the first time I saw Asuka-chan, I was going to apologize for missing your graduation.”

Yes and that went very well, didn't it? 

“But it spiraled out of control when you talked back to me for the first time, I didn’t think… I didn’t think my obedient son was capable of doing that. And the fact that you said you didn't have the best Okaa-san growing up, hit me a bit too hard even when I knew it was true." 

The machine beside him beeped at short intervals, and his eyes traced the clip connected to her small finger, on the same hand, a needle pierced her skin, supporting light bruises that managed to jolt his heart every time they came to change the dressing. 

“I regretted leaving like that, I really did, but I also knew that I messed up to the point where you were willing to cut connections with me forever.” The blues of the hospital garbs seemed neon under the dimming light, barely letting his sight outline her features. He did that a lot these days. Staring at her tranquil face that was free of worldly matters. 

“So I kept up with your daily lives.” 

He looked up this time, frowning. 

“Catching glimpses of you and Asuka-chan, the way you indulged her, the way your face changed while being with her, the way you’d scrunch your face whenever she’d run into a pole.” 

Kazue laughed despite the discontent on her son’s face, the type of laugh no one joined in because it was smothered in infelicity. “I wanted to come out and apologize, but then I’d remember your hateful eyes and, well....” she sighed, “You were content, Shota, you didn't need me in your life anymore, like you said, I fulfilled your monetary needs and that was it.” 

“You stalked me?” he grunted, heart-stirring with an emotion he wanted to toss out the window. 

She looked away from him, focusing on the white sheets of the bed, “I did.” she agreed, “I stalked my son and granddaughter because I was too much of a coward to face you both.” 

The cool air buzzed from the ac, colluding with the incessant ringing of the ECG machine beside him, filling in an odd silence.

She’s sorry, Shota, your mother is sorry , she's genuinely sorry, and had been for the past eight years, it’s not sporadic; she realized how she treated you — she doesn't hate you anymore—

No. No. He was not going through the line of thoughts. He wasn't. 

“I finally mustered up the courage to approach her when she was three.” She pervaded the silence, a sort of nostalgic smile tugging her red-painted lips, “She was an odd child, her remarks were witty but her eyes were similar to yours; filled with dislike for me.” Ice blue met ash grey once more, bizarrely containing sentiment he was foreign with. 

“I was more motivated after that, and as you said, bribed her with sweets to get a short conversation. Her retorts were more scathing than anything, not sparing me more than ten minutes, but I was happy.”

Shota had masses on his tongue. Masses and masses before she started talking about Asuka.

“Then one day,” she continued, shifting on her feet, “she said something that made me confront you.” 

She took a deep breath, relaying words that have him pause momentarily. 

His daughter thought he was a soft person. A kind person. His heart warmed, but his brain highlighted the part where she had mentioned speaking of Watanabe Takeru. 

“I didn’t bait her.” she said firmly, “I know you think I’m some manipulative monster, and I was , I admit, but I’ve changed now. I only brought Her up because I thought Asuka-chan might be curious— she’s mature for her age, Shota, I speculated she hadn’t heard of her Kaa-san. But it was the wrong thing to do, I admit that.” 

“I don’t expect a matter of years to be dissolved in mere days or months.” she expressed wanly, “It’s going to take time, I know, regardless of that, I’m going to put in a butt load of effort , as Asuka-chan said.” A ghost smile etched on her face, “I can’t take back what I did, and the words I’ve said are horrendous, but I'll improve. I’ll try my best.” 

Shota didn't like the face his mother was making. It wasn’t cold, her ice shards were melted. Her face wasn’t rigid, but softened in a way Inko would habitually regard Izuku. Her taut lips wobbled instead of staying in the thin line he remembered it to be, despondency and moroseness replacing rigidity and aloofness.

Shota’s jaws clenched. “I need time.” 

The dam broke. “ K-kami- really?” she sobbed, shaking hands and wiping at her cheeks. 

He averted his eyes, “Yes.” 

A soft person with a gentle heart? Dislike for her showing plenty of feelings? — his dominant hand slipped to Asuka’s needle-ridden hand, squeezing it lightly. “I also need space,” he said, interrupting his sniffling mother. “You can’t just frequent me and hope that I’ll give in.” 

She nodded too enthusiastically for his liking. 

After that, he served her coffee like he did to every visitor and sat near Asuka while she sipped it down. 

“I’ll be leaving then,” she said, standing up and pressing over her knee-length skirt, light blue eyes glowing in a way he hadn't ever witnessed before. 

‘Knock, knock’

Both son and mother diverted their attention to the sliding door, Shota blinking at the suited women and Kazue observed them, recognition smearing over her face immediately. 

“Oh, Aizawa-san, what are you doing here?” a woman’s voice resounded, her maroon hair so tensely packed in a bun that Shota felt his scalp hurt. 

“Kimura. Maruyama.” his mother acknowledged them, slightly surprising him. 

“You know them?” he questioned, quirking a brow.

“Work colleagues.” she said, then veered her attention to both of them, “You must be here for SC563.”

….the what now?

“Yes, Director!” the other woman saluted zealously, her orange skin flaring into a neon. 

His mother chuckled, “At ease, Maruyama, you don’t have to do that every time you see me.” 

“It is a great honor for me!” 

Shota blinked, something niggling at the back of his mind.

“Ah, Aizawa Shota-san,” the Kimura woman addressed, “we’re first-rank officers in charge of case SC563, you should have received a text message about our arrival. I’m Kimura Azusa, this is my partner Maruyama Eiko.” 

…the Hero Commission? — his mother worked for the fucking hero commission?!

“Yes.” he said, “Of course.” 

Great, more association with babbling humans. 

“Then I’ll be leaving now, Shota,” Kazue said, patting his shoulder lightly, “I’ll visit soon.” 

He nodded curtly. 

8th October, 3101

[Day six]

There was a fizz in the air. The sort of fizz one would witness from popping cans of beer, froth overtaking, then depleting with droplets escaping the glass. It was also the kind of fizz that bubbled warmth in her skin, not exactly searing, but enough to pull away like grazing a simmering pot of curry. This was not snugness, nor was it where she had thought she was. This was not the womb. 

But was she even dead?

She wasn't sure. Her consciousness flew in and out like unrelenting winds, this was one of the few times it flew in. 

“Oh, her color’s changing, I guess she'll regain consciousness soon.” 

“Maa, I don’t know why you brought me here again, they’re on that side for a reason.”

“Tch. Leave if you want, I didn’t drag you here, you old fart!”

“I should just take a boat to the Waterfall, why do I even deal with brats like you?” 

“Baa-chan already passed the Waterfall, why’re you still sulking around here?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

In frenzied motion, eyes moved beneath the lids, heart thrumming raucously, almost deafening her from the voices— She knew those voices!

“I don’t want to leave yet, isn't that simple enough?” 

Fingers twitched with resolution, lids fluttering open, only to smack shut once more from the sheer vibrance of her surrounding. 

“Fine, I” ll leave— and you know what, maybe I will cross the Waterfall.”

“Hey! Don’t do it without telling anyone! If you pull a Yamoto then I’ll choke you to death!” 

“Ha! Good luck with that ya twerp, but you’d have to cross to do that!” 

Periwinkles and mint, lilac with shades of pearls, light pinks colluding tinctures of seafoam, the sight before she shimmered with such intensity, allowing her to forget why she was flailing to wake up in the first place. 

“Oh! Are you awake? Hey there! Yes you, soul with a flowy blue dress, can you hear me? I can see you blinking, are you ignoring me? I’m talking to y-you..you..”

Her head turned to the side to address the voice, nearly losing it when she realized she was lying in the air. But she wasn’t actively plunging into the endless splashes of pale chroma around her. 

“I-Is that you, Sakura-chan?” 

She didn't know whether to laugh or cry, “Do I look different?” she asked instead, eyes choosing the latter option, vision blurring him and the vivid green filling behind him. 

His whiskered face lit up, grinning so widely, so preciously, “Not at all!” 

She ambled over to where he was, warmth blooming in her chest, thrashing her limbs to maintain balance, then collided into a wall she couldn't discern with her eyes. “What the hell—”

“That’s the Veil.” Naruto supplied, splaying his hand on the said Veil. “It means you’re not ready to cross yet.” 

Her dominant hand rubbed at her eyes, “What do you mean? Why’re you on that side then?” 

“I died, remember? Fourth Shinobi War, bijuu stealing, infinite Tsukiyomi, ring any bells?” His expression was bright, but there was a discernible tautness in his tone that made her somber. 

“How can I forget?” she countered, pressing her hand to match his much bigger ones, only to immediately notice how they were much bigger than she remembered. “Wait, what do I look like right now?!” 

His brows furrowed, “You look like you..?...”

Her hand went to her hair, tugging it out of the bun it was in, letting the hair flow to its entirety— pink. It was pink. “Naruto, this is pink . My hair is pink!”

He tilted his head, “Yes Sakura-chan, your hair has always been pink, am I supposed to point something out?” 

“But...but it’s supposed to be black..” she murmured, tugging at her rosy locks. 

“Enough about that!” Naruto hollered as if she were miles away from him. “Just where the hell have you been?! I remember dying much earlier than you, but you weren't here when we came, and now you’re on the other side of the Veil, so that must mean you crossed the Waterfall, but how'd you cross it without anyone knowing? There’s only one entrance, y’know, did you find a different entrance or something?—”

“Stop!” she demanded, frowning, “What the hell are you going on about? Veil? Waterfall? Crossing?!” 

Naruto tilted to a side, his folded leg brushing the lush green grass, “Right,” he laughed sheepishly, scratching behind his neck, “some people have memory lag, forgot ‘bout that. So the Veil is what separates us, on my side,” he pointed to a field of rich green hills, stretching extensively where her eyes couldn't follow, “it’s where the dead souls reside— well not dead, dead, but like the ones who have died but haven't decided on crossing the Waterfall, which is typically the next ticket to getting a new body. So like rebirth . You followin’ me, Sakura-chan?” 

She nodded slowly. 

“And on your side, it’s like a place where the souls who’ve been detached from their bodies for various reasons linger around, mostly medical related, from what they’ve told me.” 

“Who’s they?” she queried, wiggling her toes from the way she hung in the air. 

“The souls.” he deadpanned, “I come here to chat with them sometimes, they're not always awake because of technical stuff. It’s like how you’ve also been floating for like,” he hung his fist in front of his face, raising each finger as he focused intensely. “Six? Or seven days? I don’t know, time works differently over here, but I’ve been coming here pretty frequently because you seemed familiar— and you were! I thought you might’ve been another pink-haired woman, but you were you , Sakura-chan — I should get the others and tell them you’ve been found!” contingent to his claim, he didn’t stand up to call others, “But shame on you Sakura-chan, how could you just pull a Yamoto? We were supposed to reunite here, y’know? Even that teme was nice enough to wait for six years before passing the Waterfall.” 

But she didn't do any of the things Naruto mentioned..?

“The others...?..” she asked instead, hope twinning her heart and crawling her throat, “others like...like Shikamaru?”

His smile withered, “No,” he said, picking at the hem of his orange jacket, “Shikamura…he crossed nine years after reaching here.” 

The twinning squeezed her heart and clogged her throat, “So he’s not here.” she said, a tight-lipped smile overtaking her face. 

Naruto was quick to recover, “It isn’t what you think,” he said, “Shikamaru waited for a long time, he waited for a really, really long time, but you never came, and… and at first everyone assumed you got caught up in the Tsukuyomi, but then about five years into coming to Midori no niwa , more and more people staring pouring in after breaking from the ‘supposedly’ eternal genjutsu. This meant you should’ve been one of the first to break through since you’re good at stuff like that, but you never did.” 

He put his hand on the veil, then his forehead, “Baa-chan suggested that maybe you already crossed the Waterfall without us knowing” a wry smile tugged his lip, “and we believed it ‘cos that’s better than acceptin’ that you were still stuck in that genjutsu.” 

She let her forehead connect to where he was. “I’m sorry for being late.” 

His shoulders shook. “You should be!” 

After he settled himself, Naruto declared that they didn't have much time to catch up, and before she asked what that meant, he initiated to yap about, well, everything.  

He prattled about reuniting with his parents with the purest grin, boasted about Sasuke having to get a ‘redemption record’ before he could enjoy the full benefits of Midori no niwa , then also followed it by saying how the ‘emotionally stunted bastard’ cried when he got to reunite with his family and clan. He explained how Hinata confessed to him, ensuingly getting assaulted by Neji's shoe. Naruto, with a beaming face and twinkling eyes that pounded nostalgia into her, chatted about living the best life with his parents and remaining friends that hadn't decided to cross the Waterfall yet .  

“Lots of people have crossed, y’know?” Naruto chimed, “Tsunade-baa, Sasuke-teme, Ino, Shikamaru, Sai, Yamato— speaking of which, who knew Taichou was so intent on gettin’ a new body that he left right after a few hours into reaching here? But Kakashi says he probably lost his footing and fell into the Waterfall which is bullshit because you can’t just fall over .” he huffed, adjusting one of his legs to the side while the other stayed tucked under him. 

“What about you, Sakura-chan? Why’re you floating there?” 

She blinked, “I got into an accident.”

“Hmm,” he stroked a non-existent beard, “so you probably fell into a coma.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask this.” she said quirking a brow, “Are you allowed to share such information with ‘souls’ who haven’t died yet?” 

He waved his hand dismissively, “It won’t matter, you won’t remember anything when you wake up.” 

“What?” 

“It’s true,” he bobbed his head, “I’ve talked to the same souls twice and they don’t recall the conversation we had before. Plus there’s no one that stops me from doing this so I’m assuming this isn’t illegal or anything.”

“So I’m going to forget everything ?!” she squawked, beyond hysterical as her fist landed on the damnable Veil. 

“Woah, calm down Sakura-chan.” he held up his hands despite knowing she couldn’t cross. “Don’t you have to return here when you die anyways? And there’s no need to retain such memories, starting your life on a clean slate is the purpose of rebirth,” He grinned brightly, “I don’t think anyone wants to remember their past lives when it’s just going to burden them anyways.”

Her lips wobbled— she remembered everything dammit! She remembered her past, she remembered her present, and she wanted to remember this too! This memory of Naruto, his narratives of all their friends, this was fucking important! — “But I do remember—”

“Oh!” he exclaimed, eyes lighting up, “Your transparency is dissolving!” 

She halted, “What?” 

Then it started to fizz. 

“It means you’re ready to go back!” he provided, heaving himself off the grass, and jumping excitedly, “This is awesome, Sakura-chan, you can finally go back!”

“Wait, wait, I still need to tell you— shit, what the fuck is this?!” 

“Don’t worry!” he beamed, “We’ll meet again someday! Be happy until then—  not that you’re going to remember any of this— but still! Live your life to the fullest! I’ll be sure to tell everyone I saw you—"  the rest of it was just buzzing to her ears as the heat closed in, creeping over her hand, crawling between her toes, and slithering up her ankles. 

It enclosed her, dimming the captivating landscapes and tantalizing colors, making her fists tighten around the clothes she was wearing, and with a final seethe that blocked her perception, her throat ambled out a large bout of air. 

* 

A smaller hand perched on a shock of charcoal hair, smoothing over as he shifted below. It took no effort to subdue him as she sent a weave of chakra to soothe his nerves, procuring an unintelligible mumble to fill the muted room. 

Maybe it was the overwhelming warmth cuddling in her chest for the number of people that were beaming to see her awake, or maybe it was the mountain of sweets that she helped herself to without her father intervening on how she was going to get diabetes. It might be the remaining toll of being in a coma for six days and the variety of tests conducted to get an understanding of her byakugou seal. Or it might’ve been that itching feeling behind her head that she was forgetting something important, but couldn’t for the life of her get a firm grasp on what it was. 

Or it might be the unpleasant singes left on her heart after seeing her father cry so openly for the first in her life.

Either way, she couldn't catch a wink of sleep. 

“OJI-SAN, TIME BOMB'S AWAKE!” 

“ASUKA-CHAN!!”

Two blurs attacked Asuka, pinning her back to the bed after she had managed to painstakingly get her body to sit up. 

“Damn you! How can you just sleep for six days straight?!” Katsuki grumbled, his fist tightened behind her hospital gown. 

“I’m so g-glad you’re awake!” Izuku sobbed, nuzzling his head into the crook of her neck, warm tears lingering on her skin. 

She lay dumbstruck, too many things swirling in her head at once. 

Shortly after, Izuku and Katsuki were pulled away from her and a familiar mess of raven hair entered her vision.

“Papa,” she mumbled, newfound energy compelling her to sit up again, “you’re alive.” thank kami he was—

Then it was too fast to see because he was gathering her in his arm, the hug tightening till half her face was pressed against his chest, his heartbeat resonating loud enough to make her disoriented head vibrate. Before she could reciprocate, a hoarse voice rumbled, “ I-I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.” and then he shook. He shook like the day after her quirk manifested, harrowing sobs perforating her ears. 

Except this wasn’t warm-hearted. 

It left a need to itch out the awful thing stuck in her throat and weaving down her chest, swirling and pounding her organs in a spiteful manner, and it kept getting worse as he repeatedly apologized—

It got worse when he receded from the hug and she got a glimpse of his fatigued face. Red, red eyes which hadn’t ever been that red since she was old enough to replace his eye tonic, eye bags that held the weight of the world, and paleness that was precarious— this was wrong, so, so, so fucking wrong— before she could open her dry mouth and tell him something, anything, streams of people entered the room, shutting her out of his reach. 

She leaned against the pillow, her eyes following outside the window which displayed the view of the night sky. 

This had gotten too out of hand. 

It was one thing to make up lies due to her dissociative episodes, but this? Where she snuck into a burning building to save his life and ended up getting fucked over five times before almost dying and activating her byakugou seal with who-knows-what type of miracle? What kind of bullshit lie could she make up to nullify her entry into the building despite her father’s warning to stay in the car? This was all too outrageous. 

She had gotten too far this time. And all because of some stupid piece of steel, preventing her from making a safe retreat. 

Her father wasn’t an idiot, and judging by how he reacted to her, sobbing about how he failed to protect her, she was well aware that he was feeling culpable for her mistakes. It made her eyes prickle when he appeared so desolate, so excruciatingly distressed, all because his hard-headed daughter achieved to save his life nearly at the expense of hers. 

It didn't sit right with her. Nothing about this did, he wasn't interrogating her, and he wasn't questioning the logistics of what the fuck happened, and how it happened. He wasn’t admonishing her nor was he demanding answers to questions she knew she’d have a hard time explaining— he did nothing. Said nothing. Her father just listened to her, fed her what she wanted, gave her whatever she asked for, and observed her with eyes that made her divert her gaze from him. 

He knew. Asuka knew he knew. He knew she came to save him, he knew she wasn't a figment of his imagination, yet he wasn't saying anything about it— why wasn't he saying anything about it?! 

Guilt.

It isn't his fault! She’s okay now!

Realizing you were on the brink of death. 

But —

The hopelessness of seeing a loved one fight for their life.

That is —

It’s the same, isn't it? It’s how your friends died knowing you couldn't do anything. And then your father had to see the same sight, feel the same wretched emotions, experience the agonizing—

SHUT UP!

Her chest heaved and her eyes shut, shaking her head to regain control. Her father shifted under her hand once more, grumbling, movement apparent under his lids. She smoothed over his hair, calming him in the process. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “ I’m the one who should be sorry, Papa.” 

When her eyes averted from his pale face and stared back outside at the night sky, the beaming moon mingling with soft gray clouds, something clicked in her mind. 

Choices. 

She chose the craziest one. 

*