NeonHorizon: I had to write a follow up. I'm totally caught up on the manga. That's why I chose Kurogiri for the Christmas story. But this follow up needed to happen because I enjoyed writing the last part so much. He deserves to be happy.


A week had passed since the day he saved a life. Lingering in an alley across the street from "Good Coffee", the shadowy villain watched customers come and go. He was waiting for the right moment. A moment when he could enter without worrying about being spotted by law enforcement or a hero.

Kurogiri thought back to Christmas day. He normally spent the day alone and it passed like any ordinary day, but this year had been different. It was special. He had been given a gift, ate a home-cooked meal with a kind mother and her child, and he had been praised for saving the little girl.

Remembering the way her mother thanked him, he felt that odd sensation again. There was something within him trying to surface. Something faint, trying to fight its way through layers of thick darkness. His glowing eyes narrowed as he attempted to identify what it was. It was so difficult for him to even try to grasp. Like trying to grab onto a spiral of smoke.

Within the café, there was one employee working. A young man with glasses and shoulder-length black hair. He bustled around the café, smiling at the customers he served and speaking to Misora in a friendly way. The woman flashed him a smile. There was no sign of her daughter in the café.

The dark, misty man in the alley lowered his eyes to the ground and he adjusted the crimson scarf settled around his neck. His free hand held something. A little box. Wrapped simply. Containing something delicate and precious. An envelope was tucked into his pocket. Another small gift.

He had hoped to find the café as empty as it had been on Christmas day, but Kurogiri had misjudged its popularity. It took a while for it to empty out and, finally, all were gone except for Misora and her employee. The woman bid the young man farewell as he left around late afternoon and it was finally clear for Kurogiri to enter.

His steps were slow and deliberate. There was a slight feeling of reluctance. A part of him, somewhere at the back of his mind, worried that coming here might place Misora into the path of danger. If he was followed by someone, for instance. He had been careful to be sure that Shigaraki was occupied with something before he left the bar, but there was always a chance that a police officer or hero might have spotted him.

The little bell above the door jingled as he entered the café. Misora had been standing at the counter, her back to the door as she prepared something. "I'll be with you in a minute," she called over her shoulder.

Kurogiri was silent. He wondered where her daughter was. He wondered how she would react to seeing him again so soon. He wondered how long he could be gone from the bar before his absence was noticed. If All for One needed him to return, he would do so without question. However, he wanted to know what that feeling was that kept trying to push to the surface of his mind.

Misora turned around, holding a cup of steamed milk, and her sharp magenta eyes widened. A grin tugged at her lips and she looked absolutely delighted to see him. "Kurogiri-san! Welcome! What can I get for you? It's on me."

He simply stood there for a moment as he felt it again. Something deep in his heart and mind, flickering to life. Like a flame trying to stabilize and burn brighter, fighting against a darkness that threatened to consume it. Kurogiri gave a small nod of greeting. "You don't need to do that."

"What? It's cold outside, isn't it? Here; I'll make something special for you. So what brings you to my neighborhood?" She began making another cup of steamed milk, but with a bit of sugar added. Coming around the counter with the cups, she brought them to a table and set them down before walking to flip the sign to "closed".

"I brought a gift for Michiko." Which was true. The envelope he was carrying contained a New Years card as well as a small amount of money. He recalled what Misora had told him before. She and her daughter were spending their first Christmas and New Years without the little girl's father.

The surprise and gratitude in her expression added a bit of fuel to the flicker in his core. She covered her mouth as she quietly thanked him, a wet sheen to her gaze as she lowered it to her cup of milk. Misora's pale blue hair fell around her face as she released a sigh. "Kurogiri-san…you know, you really made her Christmas. Well, you made our Christmas. If you hadn't come along…I just hate to think about what might've happened. You're my hero."

The flicker grew even stronger. It felt like he was just on the verge of grasping whatever this feeling was. So close to identifying what was trying to surface. He stared down at his own cup, attempting to focus on that feeling. Like trying to see through a smokescreen.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to make things so heavy." She flashed him a grin again and nodded toward his cup. "Go on. Have a taste and warm up. It's freezing out there, right?"

The steamed milk was sweet and warmed the man throughout. It suited her personality. Warm, kind. Misora and her daughter both treated him so well. He was accustomed to Shigaraki's thankless demands so their gratitude was quite refreshing. "This is very good," he commented.

"I'm glad you like it. Michiko went to a friend's house, but she'll be back later. How late can you stay?"

Kurogiri was unsure of how long Shigaraki would be occupied with what he was doing. He knew that he would need to make his way back to the bar soon, but he was reluctant. The more time he spent around Misora, the closer he got to uncovering that strange feeling that was trying to rise to the surface. It was perplexing and he wanted to know what it was. Why he started to feel this every time Misora showed gratitude and why the feeling grew when she called him her hero.

Across the table, she was looking toward the café door with narrowed eyes. She ran her fingers through her wavy, pale blue hair and frowned. "I'll be right back. Can you wait here?"

"Is something wrong, Misora-san?" He looked toward the front of the café. Standing outside were three young men. Even from this distance, Kurogiri could tell that these men were not customers. Quite the contrary; they looked like ruffians. Troublemakers. He imagined that if they were to enter the café, it would be to cause problems for Misora.

The men were all taller than her, but she still approached the door with confidence. Pushing open the door, she glared at the three. "Can I help you?"

Kurogiri watched and listened. Money was demanded, threats were made to damage her business. Crude remarks about Misora were made by one of the young men. It was when one of them started toward her that Kurogiri stood from his chair, subconsciously moving as if to help.

It was not needed, as he soon saw. She swept the young man's legs out from beneath him in one swift move and crouched, pressing a hand against the pavement under the fallen boy. The concrete softened below him, making him sink into it like it was pudding, and then it hardened around his limbs to trap him in place.

As he watched this occur, he found himself staring intently at Misora. It was not common for Kurogiri to be impressed, but he had not expected this. He saw one of the men try to grab Misora's wrist and acted before the man's hand could reach her. A warp gate opened between the delinquent and Misora. The boy fell through it and disappeared.

The woman's eyes widened at the sight of the warp gate, but she was not unsettled by it. If anything, she seemed almost mesmerized with its appearance. The third assailant took off running down the sidewalk and Misora crouched down to speak to the one she had trapped. A few words were said, but Kurogiri was unable to hear her.

The cement softened again and Misora pulled the young man up by the front of his shirt. She spoke once more, eyes narrowed, and then released him. The boy, with tears of panic streaming down his face, bowed again and again before sprinting after his friend. Misora grimaced and entered the café, ruffling her hair and sighing to herself. "Sorry about that, Kurogiri-san."

"What was that?"

"Just some kids. Some people think that since it's just me, it would be easy to rob the café. I don't like having to use my quirk for stuff like that, but someone had to teach them a lesson. Their parents clearly didn't." She sat across from him and a sheepish grin took form on her lips. "What you did just now…that was really cool. Thank you for helping me out again."

"It was subconscious," he tried to explain. It was just an excuse though. On some level, he knew that he had fully intended to help her.

"That's what makes you so cool," she argued, lifting her cup. "You saved Michiko without thinking, too, didn't you? It's heroic."

That word again. Hero. Heroic. A pulse, deep within the layers of darkness. A flicker of light at his core. He peered down at his cup of steamed milk and found himself struggling again to identify what this sensation was.

"Of course, now I owe you again." Misora's tone was playful, teasing. When Kurogiri looked at her across the table, there was a faint pinkish hue that dusted her cheeks. Highlighting the dark freckles and bringing even more warmth to her lightly tan complexion. "I guess you'll have to stay for dinner again. So I can make it up to you."

"I suppose I don't have a choice." Not that he minded. He knew his duty to Shigaraki would bring him back to the bar at the end of the day. If absolutely necessary, he could be reached by phone. What he really wanted, more than anything else, was to discover what this flickering feeling was.

The bell above the door jingled and running footsteps alerted Kurogiri to Michiko's return. The little girl wasted no time in rushing over to hug him, grinning in that warm, sweet way that her mother did. "Kurogiri-san, you're back!"

To have someone so happy to see him was beyond rare. He had trouble remembering the last time someone was so pleased to see him before Christmas day. Michiko and Misora were both so welcoming, so delighted to see him. It made him feel better than he could ever remember feeling before. The hollowness he normally felt was replaced by something.

Like he belonged. Like he was being accepted, cherished. It was so strange to feel this way when he was normally regarded as little more than a servant. Kurogiri simply let the child hug him, but was hesitant to react. It was difficult for him to know how he should react since he was not used to being treated this way.

"Are you having dinner with us? Mom's making soba tonight." Michiko's eyes widened as she stared at the dark, misty man.

"See? Now you have to stay for dinner. How can you say "no" to that face?" Misora laughed lightly and shook her head. "No, it's alright if you already have plans, Kurogiri-san. No pressure."

"I would like to stay for dinner. As long as I'm not imposing." He hoped that he would not regret this decision. He hoped that he could soon identify what this feeling was that was stirring deep down inside of him.

As before, Kurogiri allowed himself to be led to the living area above the café. He waited patiently with Michiko as her mother prepared their food. His offers to help in the kitchen were brushed off, Misora insisting that he just relax while she cook. It felt odd to have someone cooking for him, just as it had before. Though it did not go unappreciated.

He had discovered that Misora was rather capable in the kitchen. Christmas dinner had been delicious and this New Years soba was equally good. She served green tea with the soba, as well as dumplings. While they ate, he tried again to see through the dark veil to his core where that flickering was growing stronger. He could almost identify it, but there were still layers blocking him from fully recognizing whatever it was.

The New Years card was given to Michiko and she thanked him with a hug. Each show of gratitude seemed to peel away another layer of darkness and he very hesitantly gave her a half-hug. Goodness. It was goodness that he was feeling, along with something else. At the very least, he was glad to have recognized how good he felt in the company of these two. Not just happy, but like he, himself, was good.

Misora gave him a smile from her seat beside him. "You're too sweet, Kurogiri-san. Thank you."

It was now that he brought forth the small box he had tucked away earlier. Drawing it from his pocket, he set it in front of her on the table. "Misora-san, this is for you."

She blinked in surprise and nervously brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "You…didn't have to," she mumbled, becoming shy. Misora carefully unwrapped the little box and her smile returned full force upon seeing the gift inside.

The necklace was lifted and the little charm glimmered in the light. The young woman's eyes filled with such happiness that Kurogiri was unable to tear his gaze from her face. She secured the necklace around her neck and lovingly touched the charm. When she looked at him again, there was a pink tint to her cheeks. "Kurogiri-san…you really are the best, you know that?"

Even if that flickering at his core was unable to fully light, he felt good. He felt something he had not felt for quite some time. Something he could never feel from his work for Shigaraki or All for One. True happiness. He was appreciated. Maybe even loved. To Misora and her daughter, Kurogiri was a hero.