Yaomomo strode briskly down a white and green hall, passing through a pattern of light to shadow to light again. There was a vase in her hands, a clear, glass vase with three branches of delicate, pastel sakura within. With her white sundress swaying around her, she halted at a door to her left. The plate read 3-A, a number and a letter engraved in an enamel plaque. She took the doorknob in her hand and entered.

"Hello, Shouto." The door shut behind her, leaving her alone with flowers, machinery, and the shell of a man frozen in time. Through the curtain-drawn windows, the crimson rays of the sunset cast a rosy glow over the painfully white walls. Yaomomo walked around to the far side of the bed and placed the vase on the table by the headboard before sitting down in her black plastic chair, as usual.

There were flora everywhere, in jars and vases alike, red spider lilies and vermilion camellias, amethyst wisteria and chrysanthemums with petals lighter than a cadaver's sheets. None were wilted; she always made sure to change the graying flowers. After all, there were never dead flowers at a dead man's party, right?

"How are you?" Yaomomo took his cold hand, lying on top of the sheets, and turned her gaze to his face. He looked as delicate as ever, pale skin scarred by long-ago burns- a patch over his left eye, and a newer, jagged stripe down his right temple. His lips, smooth with balm, were parted in sleep. He was as still as ever; the heartbeat monitor on his other side beeped regularly as blood stubbornly flowed within his corpse. "It's been a while."

She carefully readjusted her hand, lacing her fingers with his. "The sakura are at their peak," she continued. Behind her, the dying flames of the day burned against her back, outlining everything in red and orange. Her hair glistened, tied up in a ponytail and adorned with a silver music note hair clip. "I went boating with Yuga and Hitoshi for viewing in the morning. We had fun- Tsu's only just started having therapy with him recently, so we split up the group. In the afternoon, I joined Nejire and Tsu. Eri was there, too. We had a picnic together." She smiled, turning to glance at her vase of sakura, petals like glittering, cherry rubies in the dusk. "It was so nice... you would've liked it."

The date was April seventh, precisely five years after the students had been rescued from the League of Villains' Killing Game. The villains had maintained a steady hold on society, but with the aid of the heroes, life was mostly normal. Well, as normal as life could be for the survivors, but it worked out alright.

"I'm glad you're here, though. At least I can talk at you," she murmured, turning to stare out the window. The cityscape, the same stone jungle she'd glimpsed the day she arrived at the hospital, was basking in fiery hues. The smoky, white clouds were ablaze. She fell silent, her eyes fixed outside. Beautiful... flames.

A flicker of a cage of cerulean, a burning body crumpling before her.

A library turning into nothing but ash and blood, cinders waltzing around a scorched corpse.

She pushed the faint memories away, instead focusing on the gently drifting clouds and the cold sensation of Shouto's fingers against her own.

They sat there until she'd forgotten all sense of time, the room quiet spare for the white noise that was the steady beeping of the machinery. "I do wish you could've seen this sky, though, if only just once," she mumbled, dragging her eyes away from the dozing sun and back to him.

A pair of hazy, mismatched eyes met hers.

"...huh?"

Yaomomo blinked, once, twice. Shouto stared back up at her, his eyelids fluttering as he attempted to reaccustom to the golden light of the room instead of the cold darkness of death.

He's supposed to be dead, he's- he's been dead for years..!

She wrenched her hand from his, wrapping her arms around her chest instead. "Sh-Shouto..?"

He couldn't really do anything but lay there and stare up at her, blinking as if to ask her, "You're here?" Yaomomo didn't dare speak, nor touch him again; why is this happening..?

The heartbeat monitor was still going, the beat faster than before. Even in the swiftly paling light, she could see his eyes were gaining a sharp glint of liveliness- something so familiar, yet achingly not all at once.

He's... alive...

Shouto... is alive...

I should be happy, right?

I should be glad he's alive, right?

So why...

Why do I want to run?

Visions of blue-hot fire and burning flesh leaped to her mind once more, tenfold in color; tears and hysteria, Shouto dying, Yaomomo running from Dabi, fighting Hawks when they took the body away. Even before that, there was Shouto yelling at her with tears in his eyes, asking her why she killed Tamaki, Denki throttling Nedzu, Denki blowing up- her ears rang, a loud buzzing closing in on her, backing her into a corner as the distant memories, vivid and far too big for her head, fell upon her back once again and crushed her under its stifling weight.

"Wh-Why..?" she choked out, her breath becoming uneven and ragged. Her limbs tingled, adrenaline blistering her from the inside. She stumbled up and away from the bed; Shouto, lacking the ability to use his body spare for his senses, followed her with dazed eyes. The blinking was getting more rapid, as if he were alarmed by her reaction.

Blink. Blink. Blink. Blink.

A dead boy in the shower.

A knife in her hand.

A bystander asking her why she did it.

"I'm... sorry..!" She staggered away, racing out of the room without a second glance back. Tears were welling in her manic eyes as she slammed the door behind her, sharp and stinging against the freezing hospital air. Her head was spinning; she slid to the ground outside the door, curling up in a ball, crying into her arms.

The buzzing wouldn't stop; it was a massive, writhing, black scribble devouring her, eating away at her brain until all that remained was the scent of burnt skin and fresh blood, visions of bodies and a courtroom, and she was drowning in it. She wrapped her hands over her ears, felt the tears drip down her face, her body shuddering as she tried to block out the too-loud noises. Someone... please... tell me this is just a nightmare..!

She was unaware of how long she stayed there, curled up outside Shouto's room, but she heard a rapid set of footsteps hurrying down the hall and coming to a halt beside her. She peered over her arm to find three nurses rushing into Shouto's room, followed by whispered exclamations, delightful at his awakening.

One person remained outside- Makoto, she realized, gazing pathetically up at his olive eyes and brown hair. His expression was sympathetic; sad.

Why...

Why can't I just be happy..?

"Mmh, I see," Kaede said, raising her coffee to her lips to take a sip. "You panicked when Shouto woke up because he brought back memories from the Game, right?"

"Yeah," Yaomomo mumbled, warming her fingers around her own latte. "I just... I just don't know why. I'm supposed to be happy that he's awake, right?"

She glanced outside the window their booth was next to. It was raining, droplets splattering against the glass and blurring the view of the street. A cold, desolate landscape. Inside, however, the buttercup lights blossomed over their heads, illuminating the fuzzy edges of the sweater Yaomomo wore and Kaede's cardigan. Voices buzzed in a low, steady hum within the café, accompanied by the welcome scent of coffee and pastries.

The two had remained friends, even after Yaomomo's therapy sessions were up and she was dismissed from the hospital about two years ago. Yaomomo trusted her, her and her optimism and understanding nature. She'd even told her about Tamaki; not even Makoto knew of what she did. It was a secret for her, Kaede, Hawks, and her fellow survivors to carry, and she was content for it to stay that way.

"I understand where you're coming from," Kaede replied. "You've been able to push all of the memories away only because you've been able to grow and make peace with the rest of your survivors. But Shouto's comatose state is something cut right out of that day five years ago. It's as if you're being transported back to the time after you were rescued, and his presence triggers that."

Yaomomo stared listlessly at the distorted cream art on the surface of her drink. "I just want to be happy with him again. I want us to be friends, but I can't help but feel... scared. It's okay if I just think about him from before, but seeing him in the flesh..." She gently squeezed the cup, shoulders folding inward. Her stray lock dipped in front of her eye.

"It's okay," Kaede soothed, leaning over the table to place her fingers over the ex-Detective's. "It'll get better with time, trust me. I think we can try slow exposure therapy between you and him, like what Tsu and Yuga are doing. We can even parallel your results, if we think professionally," she added lightly.

Yaomomo couldn't help but crack a small smile. "Yeah, we could try that."

I'm sorry, Shouto.

I wonder if you miss me.

"So, how's the new job been?" The ravenette asked, picking up a piece of sushi with her chopsticks. The late afternoon sun was streaming into the room through the window, casting a hazy glow over the group of four seated around a rectangular table.

"Mmh, it's pretty good for my first gig." Nejire flipped a lock of her periwinkle hair over her back; she'd cut it again sometime after their last meeting, as it only reached her upper back now. "They're not babying me or anything. The customers like my goods, and the café got a spike in revenue. Apparently I'm a celeb," she joked, poking at her own food. "Hitoshi's been visiting lots, too!"

"But of course," he chimed in at her side, a smile tugging at his lips. The bags under his eyes were lighter, albeit still existent. "Even if it takes thirty minutes getting across the city, your red-bean bread makes it worth it. Well, that and hearing your stories from work."

"Aww, I'm flattered." She grinned and placed a hand to her lips. "Oh, by the way, how's your classes? Do you share any with Yaomomo?"

"No, we're not in any shared courses. I have lab time in the morning and classes to three," Hitoshi replied. "I pick you up after that, obviously. Ah, Yaomomo, you have a full schedule, don't you?"

"Yeah. Pretty similar to the first year, honestly." She swallowed her food. "Class all morning, then a lunch break, and more classes in the afternoon. I'm free after five."

"Of course you stacked it up. Makes me kinda glad I didn't go back to school," Tsuyu commented, smiling. "None of us could live up to that kind of standard."

Hitoshi chuckled. "Yeah, I wish. If only I had that kind of determination, then I'd be churning out devices. It's taken me a whole week to tinker up one item. Yours, actually, Tsu, the brace for Masaru."

"Oh, nice. Thanks for that." The jadette sighed, no doubt thinking about the children at the orphanage she worked part-time at. "With the brace, I'm more worried about the trees he's headbutting. But at least he won't be straining anything."

The four of them were in Nejire's apartment on a mild Saturday afternoon, and they'd made sushi together. The bluette was certainly handy in the kitchen; Yaomomo recalled that during their hospital stay, she'd spent a lot of time with an oven and stove with Chisa. On the other hand, the ravenette buried herself in the pages of countless notebooks. She still had them lying in a box somewhere, snapshots of her unconscious mind's guilty secrets. She vaguely recalled that there were a lot of images of Tamaki and flowers. Kyouka, too, in her hero outfit, and Cynthia with her tea.

"Speaking of which, how's Shouto been?" Yaomomo prompted.

"Oh, he's doing really well! I visited just this morning, actually, and he was propped up against the headboard," Nejire exclaimed. "I talked a while, caught him up on some stuff, y'know."

"I saw him, too, a few days ago after class," Hitoshi added. "He can't emote or move, but that's expected after practically sleeping for five years. I brought Yuki with me. They seemed to hit it off okay."

"You're gonna do exposure therapy with him, right?" Tsuyu piped up, hefting her chopsticks. Yaomomo nodded. "I think it's a great idea. It should go fine. You two were close back then."

"I don't know," the ex-Detective murmured, resting her chin on her palm. "I really just want to be friends with him again, but when I saw him, it brought back a lot of bad memories..."

"The therapy'll help. It's been going well for Yuga and me so far," she offered gently. "Give it a month and see."

Yaomomo didn't respond, merely picking up another piece of sushi.

The first therapy session was three days later.

"It'll be okay, really, trust me," Kaede soothed as they strode down the hall. Her long, white overcoat brushed the backs of her knees as she walked. "I'll be there, and Yuga will be by your side the whole time!"

"Oui! I, Aoyama princeling, model extraordinaire, will be your guardian angel!" Yuga said with a dramatic brandish of his hand, walking step in step with Yaomomo. His blonde locks were glossy in the passing light, and his other arm was linked with hers. "It's going to be fine, really," he added, more seriously this time. He dropped his hand. "We'll leave if you feel uncomfortable, okay?"

"Alright." Yaomomo couldn't help but smile, even though they'd been over this multiple times already. He's truly very sweet. "Well, here we are," she muttered as they approached Shouto's door.

"You ready?" Kaede asked. The ravenette nodded. "There's no time like the present, then. In we go."

As they entered the dim room with its blackout curtains, Yaomomo found herself ensnared by a pair of mismatched eyes, sharp with renewed energy. She gulped; Yuga must've noticed her tension, as he turned to her with a tilted head. She shook hers and he looked away.

"Shouto," Yaomomo murmured, approaching the other side of the bed where the chairs were. She took a seat, the same place she'd sat on the evening he'd awakened; her companion settled beside her. "Um, you look well."

Shouto was laying down, his head resting atop a white pillow. He couldn't turn it yet, lacking any control of his neck muscles, so he was side-eyeing her. The heartbeat monitor to his side beat steadily. "Sorry for running off last time," she continued, averting her gaze. His eyes were beginning to remind her of the light that dimmed in them as the fire blazed on, of the tears that had glistened like dying stars when he fought with her and insisted she couldn't have killed Tamaki.

Tamaki... help me out here, please...

Of course, Tamaki wasn't there, and she found herself alone in facing Shouto.

"Erm... I've been well." She was grappling for things to say; fending off the memories was made a little easier by Yuga's presence at her side, but she didn't know what to tell him. She didn't know what the others had said already, but she figured she might as well say a little about herself. "We all got discharged from the hospital two years ago. It's been five since the- the Game ended. Um, I'm going to be a teacher. I'm a sophomore in college now- I only took one semester last year, but I caught up and passed the exams, so they let it go.

"You've been okay, too, while you were comatose, but I assume you already know that." A pause. "I've missed you."

She fell silent after that, staring at Shouto's pale hands folded on top of the sheets. She cautiously slid her gaze upwards, to his face. He averted his own eyes as she turned to them; his red and white hair, neatly combed, brushed the bridge of his nose.

Mismatched tresses, fluttering among cinders, ablaze with blue tongues.

She blinked and looked away, but the memory prevailed. She could remember every detail perfectly- the way he crumpled to the ground, her snuffing out the flames, his supposed dying words ringing in her ears, her overwhelming guilt, all of it; it was all too loud, too bright, too pungent with ash and burnt flesh.

Yuga must've felt her anxiety, because he gently tucked a hand against her bicep and began to pull her away. "Ah..." She allowed him to tug her to her feet. "Sorry," she murmured to the man on the bed behind her, before walking away, Kaede and Yuga leading her outside.

She didn't see his lingering gaze on her back, nor the tears edging his arctic eyes.

They continued exposure therapy, going several times a week for two months. Yaomomo found herself able to stay in the room longer each session, talking to him about random subjects like classes or her friends, until she was able to have full, hour-long visits with him, albeit with Kaede accompanying her.

Despite that, she didn't know how she wound up in the hospital parking lot at eight in the evening, alone on a Friday night.

She figured this was a bad idea, especially considering she'd never visited him without a friend, plus the hospital closed its doors for visiting at five. But she still impulsively wanted to see him, and she supposed she could just pity-play the receptionist. She was bored and tired; her homework could wait, for once. She'd tried sitting down to work on it and wound up getting not a single word down, her addled mind preoccupied by visions of a heterochronous boy and a hero with navy hair. She had toted all of her materials along in a backpack to Shouto instead. Maybe his presence would help her complete some of the things.

She hopped off the empty bus and walked through the campus. She was wearing leggings and an oversized gray pull-over hoodie with just her bra underneath, but the mild spring air was warm enough for her not to feel any chill. Fortunately, the doors of the building were unlocked 24/7 in case of emergencies, so she entered the LICU without trouble. The receptionist, one Mr. Kizakura with dirty blonde hair and stubble, looked up from his computer.

"Oh, good evening, Miss Yaoyorozu," he greeted. The ravenette cocked her head, surprised at the recognition. Maybe living on campus for three years and constantly visiting the building for two actually gave her a bit of a presence. "You're here to see Todoroki, I assume. Go right ahead."

"Hm?" She hesitated. The guy could be a bit of a drunk, as she had learned from Mukuro, but he was always clear-headed on the job. "You're not going to try and stop me? Visiting hours are over."

"Yeah, well, I know you, as do all of the nurses, so you can come by anytime. I mean, nobody's going to stop you," he said, offering her a smile. "So just head on upstairs."

"Ah... thank you." She offered him a slight bow before walking down the hall.

She found herself in front of the room in no time, quietly opening the door with bated breath. The lights were dimmed inside, but it was bright enough for her to see. "Hello, Shouto," she murmured, shutting the door behind her. He was laying down, and his eyes fixed on her as she entered. He blinked slowly. "I'm... alone. And I know it's late. I just wanted to see you."

She went to her usual side of the bed and sat down, setting her bag in the chair next to her. "I hope you've had a nice day," she said as she dug out her notebook and pen. "College has been fine. I was having a bit of writer's block and I have an essay due on Monday, so I decided to come here and talk to you. Can I stay? I understand if you fall asleep."

Shouto blinked twice at her; the signal for 'yes' the nurses used and taught all recovering patients who couldn't speak yet. "Alright."

She spent a while describing her own day to him while jotting down notes for her article on modern hero studies. Her eyes were glued to the paper, and she was trying to blur out his figure in her peripheral. "Y'know, I'd like to teach at U.A.," she suddenly said, risking a glance up. Shouto cocked an eyebrow and rapidly blinked at her, incredulous, his eyelashes fluttering and catching the light above. "Right. I never told you. They're going to try and reopen at a new place, at the edge of the city, later this year. There'll be heroes on guard duty at all times. I heard even Hawks would be taking part-time shifts, so it should be plenty safe."

She paused, observing his face, waiting for the memories to strike her as they did before. They didn't, though, so she continued tracing his scars with her gaze. She had missed doing this, she noted, idly admiring him as one looked upon a piece of art framed in gold. "There'll be internships in the summertime," she continued softly. "I can pick up a bit more experience then."

The corner of his lips quirked up. She couldn't help but smile, too. "What, are you jealous?" Two blinks. "Aww, I'm flattered. I'm sure you could get back into college or take an online course once you're recovered."

He frowned and blinked once- the signal for 'no'. "Hm, why not?" Yaomomo paused. "Well, I guess that's a bit of a dumb question, isn't it? You can't talk." She sighed and looked away, staring at the ink scrawl on her paper instead. "I'm sure that you'll recover well, and then find a nice job. Of course, it's a shame we can't really be heroes now, even if Eri gets our quirks back after she enters high school. We're all out of practice, huh?" She chuckled. "But, well... maybe you could be an author and write a book of conspiracies. I'm sure you'd like that, right?" Shouto hesitated, before blinking twice, smiling slightly. "Or you could teach with me as a TA, or something, if you wanted to work with kids. Or you could ask Tsu- she works at an orphanage."

They conversed back and forth for an hour, Yaomomo speaking and Shouto offering yes or no as input. She managed to get half of the first draft of her essay written, too; granted, it was messy and she'd have to rewrite it later even before editing, but work was work. She set the notebook down and tucked it into her bag, along with her pen. "It's gotten late, hm?" She peered out the window, tugging at the curtains, to gaze over the yellow-speckled city below, golden streaks of cars and blinking windows dazzling her vision. She turned back to the man in the room and let the cloth fall to block the glass. I'm tired... I wonder if I'd get in trouble if I stayed here.

And before she knew it, she had turned the chair around and curled up so that her head rested on the side of Shouto's mattress, legs tucked on the seat. She glanced up to find him staring at her with wide eyes. "Relax. I just want to lay down a while here. You don't have to worry too much- I think I'm getting better with you."

They sat in silence for a while. Right... there's no memories, she realized, opening her heavy eyelids and glancing up at him. His own eyes were tightly shut; he was sound asleep. Could we possibly get back to how we were before, soon..? I think... I'd like that...

"Goodnight, Shouto..." She dozed off, head leaning against his side under the covers.

She roused at dawn.

"Nngh..." Where am I? This isn't my apartment... Yaomomo groaned and looked up, forcing her eyes open. Her back ached from her curled up position. She blinked, seeing Shouto still sound asleep beside her. She could feel the warmth of his body, alive and safe, against her head.

He looks so peaceful. Yaomomo stared hazily at him, drinking in his soft face, his long eyelashes, the color returning to his skin, his parted lips and old scars; it was tranquil. Quiet. Silent.

He's no longer triggering anything, either. She thought back to how she'd been overwhelmed by visions when he'd first awoken, when she'd seen those clear, blue and silver eyes again after so long. But now, all was still. She could only find contentment in her mind as she stared at the dozing Shouto. That's nice...

"I'll let you sleep," she murmured, pulling back off of the bed, the heartbeat monitor continuing to bleep behind her. She stood and stretched, feeling her spine crack as she loosened all of her tight nerves, before tugging at the curtains to grasp some sense of time. "Oh..."

It's beautiful...

The sky was overcast, the dying stars and moon hidden behind a gray curtain, but the dawn was a rosy, sakura pink, amber rays cast across a silver canvas. A haze settled over the monochrome city below, the sharp edges of the square buildings blurring in the halation of a picture-perfect watercolor mosaic. How lovely...

She couldn't help but glance over her shoulder once again, at Shouto's gentle face. I'm glad you got to see this sky again, after all.

On that cloudy spring morning, it was truly incredible that they were all alive at last, and Yaomomo wished for it to stay that way.