A/N: Hey everyone! Hemza here with this week's update! At the time of writing, Darian is about to board a flight for a lovely and well-deserved vacation, so manifesting a safe and relaxing trip for her! Even if she is the worst. Sorry, couldn't help it. You all know by now how we do this. Anyways, please enjoy our latest glimpse into the life of Emiko :)

The car ride to the school was deadly quiet. Sakura hadn't bothered saying a single thing after Emiko had been discharged and shepherded into the vehicle idling at the entrance of the hospital. The only sound surrounding them was the roar of the engine as they tore down the highway. Sakura hadn't even touched the radio which normally blared all their favorite songs. Their silence was punctuated only by the roar of the wind as Sakura sped up, and the momentary whir of engines as they sped past other vehicles.

Pulling up to UA should have been a joyous experience as it had been nearly every other time she set foot on campus, but this time Emiko only felt dread. It pooled in her stomach and left her feeling waterlogged. The campus called to her, seemingly welcoming her with open arms. Other students shuffled by her, heads tucked into their own books, caught up in their own conversations.

Emiko climbed out at the front gates despite the prospect of moving into her dorm, feeling awkwardly empty-handed considering all of her clothes and belongings had been moved to the dorm, situated for her while she was recovering. She didn't spare a glance backwards, though she felt Sakura staring at her back. She knew if she turned around, she'd crumble and break into a million pieces.

Despite her anger, Emiko missed her aunt. She missed the easy way the pair spoke with each other, the way they always knew what one another was thinking. She missed the late nights spent chatting over warm tea and cold ice cream, and she longed for Sakura to grin and give her terrible advice on how to admit her feelings aloud.

As it was, she shuffled forward without so much as a backward glance, missing the heartbreak on Sakura's face at the snub from the girl that had for all intents and purposes become her daughter. Emiko reached up and adjusted her bangs to hang over her injured eye, not wanting to subject herself to the gawking of her fellow students. She knew they'd likely heard about her encounter with the villains and she dreaded knowing what they thought of her. Her class was supposed to be the best of the best, given everything they'd gone through so far. She was the weakest link and she knew it, knew that the students she was walking past were looking at her as a pity student - someone who'd been allowed in on a technicality.

Any other day that would've lit a fire under her, would've left her nearly bubbling over with anger… but today Emiko was exhausted. She hadn't even set foot in the building she'd call home for the rest of this year, but her feet moved as if she was walking through wet concrete.

Between the updated signage littered around the campus and the seemingly endless pamphlets that Aizawa had dropped off about the new dorm, Emiko was able to find her way to the building where she'd be spending most of her free time outside of classes. It was a tall brick building, one that seemed somewhat out of place given UA's typically modern facilities.

Aizawa was standing outside, her homeroom teacher giving a curt nod to the girl as she approached. He smiled only a little, attempting to hide the brief glimpses of joy at seeing her back and walking again. He looked exhausted, Emiko noticed. More so than usual, and she knew that he'd been facing the brunt of the criticism as her homeroom teacher.

She owed him an apology, she knew. As soon as she was ready to open the dam of regret and guilt, she would apologize to him. Apologize for failing the school, her classmates, and him. She wasn't the hero he and the faculty seemed convinced she was. Once again she wondered what it was exactly that they saw in a pathetic failure such as herself. Was she just the class simpleton that made the others' lights shine that much more brightly when comparing her to them?

"Komatsu, welcome to your new dorm, I'll see you to your room," Aizawa greeted, shaking her out of her thoughts, opening the door and allowing Emiko to shuffle in first, making sure the large door behind them had closed tightly.

"EMIKO!" "KOMATSU!" "OH GOD, THE SHE-DEVIL IS BACK!"

These were a few of the cries that she was able to pick out of the wall of sound that hit her as she stepped through the doors, and if she was capable of laughter, she was sure she would've let out a small laugh at the exuberant way her classmates called for her.

Kaminari rushed up to greet her, nearly bouncing off the walls as he moved through the crowd.

"Hey Komatsu! Ugh, it's so good to see you!" He grinned brightly at her. "Diggin' the new 'do! Kinda rough and rugged. Not sure about the hair covering your eye though, you have really pretty eyes, it's a shame you're covering that one up!" he greeted, his trademark megawatt smile in place.

Emiko's shoulders slumped forward as she shrank in on herself, before taking a step back. Her back pressed against the wooden door she'd just entered through, which gave her the sensation of being trapped in a box that was rapidly shrinking, her breaths began to come increasingly quickly.

Her vision was suddenly obstructed by the tall figure of their teacher as he stepped protectively in front of Emiko. His body blocked her view of the rest of the room, but she didn't miss the way Kaminari's face fell at the intrusion. She wanted to interact, to receive another of his gigantic smiles, but her heart hammered so loudly in her ears she could barely breathe.

"Kaminari, last time I checked, you haven't submitted your summer work for any of your subjects, I might suggest getting to work on that. Right now," Aizawa's voice said matter-of-factly, but there was no mistaking the dangerous edge to it. Unbeknownst to Emiko, but Aizawa's gaze swept over the other 1-A students, most of whom had frozen in place on their way to all greet Emiko, challenging any of them to test his patience, but they wisely took the hint and backed off to allow Aizawa and Emiko safe passage towards the elevators. Aizawa pressed his palm against her shoulder and guided her towards a hallway, just off of the main area.

Bakugo had stayed seated, trying to seem unaffected by it all, but there was no mistaking that his gaze was focused on his periphery, trying to find some way around Aizawa to check on her. Emiko didn't know it, but he'd been especially irritable since moving into the dorms. Everyone had given him a pass, because he was obviously in distress after everything they'd both been through. Shoto also remained seated but made less of an attempt at being subtle than Bakugo did. His eyes were filled with worry, a sign that those around him didn't miss. Some of them may have even found it sweet, the way his eyes tracked her across the room. Others like Kyouka, Momo, Iida, Ochaco, and Tsu had stood up in greeting but kept their distance, no doubt wanting to avoid overwhelming her.

The elevator ride up to the fifth floor was a silent one, with both parties staring straight ahead. Just as the doors opened, Aizawa broke the silence.

"We'd spread the female students across the floors evenly and it was initially suggested you'd be on the second floor. That is, until I pointed out that any scenario that would involve you and Mineta living on the same floor would escalate into a murder scene," Aizawa pointed out, not even offering so much as a chuckle, which told Emiko that he did firmly believe Mineta would not make it out of a semester on the same floor as her alive, which she knew was the truth. "We've got you here beside Asui, and we worked with your aunt, to make sure everything was set up as closely to how your room at your aunt's was set up."

Aizawa swiped a key card over the lock and handed Emiko a twin of it, which she accepted gratefully. She pushed the item into the pocket of her cardigan and followed behind him as he stepped aside to allow her into her room, before pressing a hand against her back gently and shutting the door behind her. She knew he was allowing her to reacquaint herself with the comforts of her belongings, but she wished he'd stayed with her a few moments longer. Despite her exhaustion and the hollow feeling in her chest, she wasn't ready to be alone. When she was alone she was haunted by the sound of her father choking, the image of him collapsing in front of her playing on a constant loop. No matter how badly she tried, she couldn't quite shake the fear and the panic that seeped into her thoughts.

Huffing out a soft sigh, she sat down at her desk and grabbed one of her ceramic figures, one of the ones that had survived her rampage on the pieces in her collection. Her gaze swung down to the ornamental box that lay there and lifted the lid. Inside that box lay the pieces of the ones she'd shattered. She could see them all as if they were whole again, lined up on her shelf. She scoffed, settling the creature in amongst the rubble.

There's no use dwelling on the figures, Emiko. Snap out of it.

Walking over to the TV beside her desk, she grabbed the remote and the controller for the game system and turned both on, finding herself gazing at the home screen blankly before scrolling through the games on the menu, soon falling into a routine of starting one up, only to close it before it'd even loaded to the main menu. In the end, she shut it all off and climbed under her covers, still clad in her street clothes. She hugged the covers closer to herself, wanting to get some comfort from the familiarity of them, to try and get something to fill the void she felt in the pit of her stomach.

Since her quirk had manifested, her life had been near-constantly overwhelming, like trying to fit an entire ocean into a thimble. Since her rescue, Sentiment had made itself scarce and that only added to the hollowness she felt in the wake of her mother's words and actions. It hid in her veins and trembled just below the surface of her skin, and for the first time in her life, Emiko felt truly alone.

No thoughts or feelings permeated her space, and she found the feeling both unfamiliar and uncomfortable. Never could she remember a time where everything was so quiet and peaceful, and Emiko didn't know what to do now that she was alone with her thoughts.

She climbed out of her bed and looked to the giant sliding glass doors at the back of her room, gazing out to the sun-soaked balcony just beyond them. She knew the air would be fresh and clean there, and she knew she could curl up in a blanket in the summer and sleep peacefully, but Emiko felt no excitement or joy at the prospect of bathing herself in sunshine.

Really, all she wanted was to curl up in a ball and sleep for weeks, to dream away the nightmare that plagued her daily life. To wrap herself tightly and cry and let it out, to forget the horrors she'd seen in such a short time.

She knew it was impossible, though. Even in sleep her father's eyes haunted her, and she could hear him calling for her. In her dreams, she saw Shoto gazing at her with love and she saw him change, saw him pull away from her. In the darkness, she could see Mara's cloak swishing about.

She swore that her mother would come back to find her, to finish what she had started. Emiko knew she had not been meant to survive that kidnapping, but her mother had gotten sloppy. Each day was met with only the briefest moments of relief when her eyes flew open, only to be replaced by the same emptiness she'd been feeling for days now.

Sighing, Emiko tugged the blanket off of her bed. She wrapped it around her shoulders and moved to the corner of her bedroom. She pressed her back there, letting her head loll back slightly. The plaster wasn't nearly as comfortable as her pillow, but here she couldn't see the door. Here, she was safe. With her back pressed against the wall and her knees pulled to her chest, Emiko slipped into a restless sleep.

Hisato haunted her as he always did, and she awoke with tears still pooled in her lashes. Her back may have ached and her shoulders were tight, but Emiko didn't move from her position in the corner for the first day she was in her room.

Everything was too similar to her memories - to the way things were in the world that her mother had created for her. Emiko wanted to change it - to tear the blankets and pillows from her bed and change the colour of them. She wanted to move the bed and the shelves and the desk, but her hands were still bandaged and sore, and she knew if she pushed too hard she'd tear the stitches again. She wanted nothing more than to have control over something, this space of hers and at least be able to have some small victory over the woman who had brought her into this world and made a living hell out of it.

So, Emiko sat in the corner. She kept her spine ramrod straight and kept her gaze focused on the space just in front of her.

Until a knock interrupted her silence, and someone she hadn't seen in weeks entered the room. He smiled down at her, before squatting low, extending his palm out slowly towards her.

"Hey."