a/n: ok listen here - I felt so bad not posting for a whole ass month you get another chapter

this one reignited my love and passion for the story so pls enjoy it made me cry a little because *emiko* ok ty for coming to my tedtalk

Emiko hadn't spoken to her friends in weeks.

At least, not really. Sure, there'd been passing conversations in class and answering basic questions - but she hadn't really spoken to them since she'd been released from the hospital.

Her phone sat upturned on her desk, screen darkened. She'd lost her older device in the kidnapping, so this new piece of technology was almost entirely foreign to her. Sakura had no doubt purchased it and the case, dropping it off at the school one day when Emiko hadn't been around.

Thankfully at least, somehow the contents of her phone had been saved so she could avoid the awkward conversation of getting everyones contact information again. All of her photos had been saved, and even though she was angry beyond words at Sakura still, the same photo lived on the screen as it had for years. Her hands were trembling but she was trying to avoid focusing on that. She'd sent the text less than a minute ago and she knew that neither Momo nor Kyouka were ever attached at the hip to their phones.

She let out a heavy sigh, pressing back from her desk and flopping onto her bed. She'd decided after her last therapy appointment that she needed to speak with her friends, because she knew they were worried about her. She'd gotten back to the dorms and immediately pulled up an old group chat between she, Jirou, and Yaoyorozu, and she'd grinned brightly at the messages displayed on screen.

The last communication there had been almost 2 months ago, and they'd been planning their weekly girls night. Something that Emiko had always looked forward to, that hadn't happened in months. She'd swallowed her fear and typed out a single message with shaking fingers.

Emiko: I miss you guys.

She knew they wouldn't respond right away, but she couldn't help the anxiety that was puddling in her chest with each second that passed. She slung her arm over her eyes, blocking out the setting sun blasting into her bedroom from the patio doors.

Bz.

Her phone buzzed on her desk and she burst forwards, grabbing it off the table.

Jirou: come down to my room then

It wasn't a lot to go off of, but still. Emiko stood quickly, tucking her phone into the pocket of her pajama pants. They hung low on her hips and she grabbed a sweater from the floor before moving out of her room. The hallways were quiet, and Emiko was thankful for that. It was easy to slip through them undetected when nobody else was around, and though she was trying to make amends for keeping herself distant for the past few weeks, she wasn't ready to have everyone sprung on her at once.

—-

Kyouka had wrapped her arms tightly around Emiko the instant her fingers tapped the wooden door. The gesture nearly knocked her off her feet, but Emiko wrapped her own arms around Kyouka within a second. She knew her friend well enough to know that the action was likely making her uncomfortable, but neither girl cared. Neither of them cared that they were shaking and crying in the doorway of a bedroom where anyone could walk by and see them making a fool of themselves.

"Emiko." Momo breathed from behind them, and Emiko smiled into Kyouka's hair when she felt another pair of arms wrap around her.

She didn't know how long she and her friends stood there in the doorway with tears dampening the front of their clothes, and she honestly didn't care. She'd been isolating herself for weeks and she hadn't felt love like this in even longer.

"Come on, come sit."

Momo was the first to pull away, ushering the other two girls into the bedroom. Emiko smiled again, pulling away and following behind her dark haired friends. Plopping onto the red and black comforter, she pulled her knees to her chest and rested her chin.

"Talk, Emiko."

Jirou folded her legs underneath her and settled into the floor, pressing her back against the wall. Momo followed her lead, peering up at Emiko with concern.

"I…"

She wanted to talk. She did, she came to the room with the intention of talking and with the intention of apologizing, but sitting here in front of the people she'd been hiding from and lying to for weeks made it a far more daunting task. Kyouka was looking at her and she didn't miss the anger that simmered in her gaze.

"I'm sorry."

Those were the only words she could seemingly form before the tears started to fall. Her lower lip quivered, and within seconds her cheeks were damp, tears streaming steadily down and puddling on the fabric of her tshirt.

"I know that you guys probably have so many questions," She started, "and I promise I'll answer every single one. I owe you that much."

Kyouka only nodded, whilst Momo reached across the bed to rest her hand palm facing up on Emiko's knee.

"Okay, Emiko. Start by telling us what happened when you got kidnapped, yeah?"

She nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Both girls stared at the scar and the distorted shape of her pupil, and she tried not to wince at their gaze. It was only natural they were curious, and with curiosity came the morbid concern typically saved for stories of serial killers and villains.

"So they took Katuski and I… uhm, and they wanted him because they thought he could be a really good villain." She scoffed at that, because clearly nobody in that filthy building had ever heard Katsuki speak about being a hero. "But they wanted me because my mom is working with the league."

She rambled that last part, as if throwing the words out would lessen their impact.

"Your mom? I thought she was in America." Momo was wide eyed and concerned, her hand no longer upturned and waiting for Emiko to seek out comfort on her own, instead allowing her long, pale fingers to tighten in the fabric of Emiko's pyjamas.

"Oh. She was, I guess. For a while after my dad… But then she was called back here by All for One." Just saying the words felt like sand in her mouth, a gritty uncomfortable itch feeding into her anxiety. "I guess she's been working with him since before I was born."

"Jesus Christ."

If she wasn't so caught up in her own feelings, she may have laughed at Kyouka's reaction.

"Yeah. I… uh." This was where the real hard part began - telling them the truth about her father and the injury to her eye. "I also found out that she killed my dad, apparently?"

The room is painfully quiet and Emiko swears she can hear the wheels of her friends brains turning - because she can only imagine what it is they are thinking. She hasn't spoken to them in weeks, and now here she is, admitting that her father is dead and was killed by her mother who is also a super villain.

"Jesus fucking Christ."

"Language, Kyouka."

"What other words are there here, Momo?"

Emiko was still crying, because she had no control over her tear ducts at this point, but she also felt laughter bubbling in her chest. Something about this interaction - this whole wild, crazy scene, was sending ripples of laughter through her sadness.

"So. That's that." She brushes a finger over her eye before she continues speaking, "She was breaking or going through something, and she help a piece of glass up to my face. That's basically what happened to my eye and to my hair."

Self consciously, she ran a shaking hand over her choppy locks, strands limp and loose over her shoulders where once it curled in a magnificent sunset halo.

"Well, Emiko." Momo began, "I'm so sorry. I can't really… find words. But I am sorry, okay? I'm glad you finally came to us, but I'm sad you felt like you had to go through that all alone, you know?"

"Yeah, same. I mean, I get why you didn't tell us because that is seriously heavy and I kind of feel like throwing up, so I can't imagine what you're going through." Kyouka continued, "But you've always got us. We're here and we aren't going anywhere. You don't have to carry this burden on your own anymore. Whatever you need, we've got this. Okay?"

As tears flowed down her face, the two girls she loved more than nearly anyone in the world wrapped their arms around her and held her close. Momo brushed her hands over Emiko's hair and Kyouka traced the curve of Emiko's spine, and for the first time in weeks - everything felt a little bit easier to handle.

"Speaking of your hair, Emiko." Momo mumbled into her shoulder. "How do you feel about an impromptu haircut? Jirou is pretty good at it, and I can make whatever we need."

Emiko nodded, feeling her heart swell a million times it's normal size.

"I'd like that."

Momo had manufactured a cape and a fancy pair of hair cutting scissors in a matter of seconds, settling them on the wooden desk across from Jirou's bed. She'd pulled Emiko up, plopping her into the chair of her desk and spinning her slowly around.

"Spray bottle," she mumbled under her breath, "Anything else we need, Ji?"

"No, I don't think so. Thanks Momo."

The two girls smiled brightly, before turning to face Emiko.

"Do you trust me, Emiko?" Kyouka asked, stepping towards her with scissors in hand.

"With my life."

"Okay then, Momo. Time to turn on the music."

Music began to blare from the speakers scattered around the room and Emiko let out a loud burst of laughter, joy coursing through her veins and intoxicating her. Kyouka moved around her as if she had been cutting hair since she was born, each step and snip of her hair graceful and almost perfectly timed to the beat of the music playing.

None of the girls cared that it was nearing 9pm and that their music was likely interrupting everyone else's evenings, because they were together and Emiko was smiling again. Her face was split into a wide grin and tears rolled down her cheeks, either in laughter or in sadness tainted by joy nobody quite new.

"Ji?" a voice called from just outside the door, and the music faltered. "Hello?"

Kaminari stepped into the room, guitar case in hand and a wide smile on his own face, as it always was when he saw his dark haired counterpart. Kyouka nearly dropped the scissors as the door swung open, a furious blush dancing across her face.

Bz.

A flicker of something danced to life in her veins, and Emiko wanted to scream with excitement. It wasn't anything like it used to be, but sentiment thrummed in her veins for a few fluttering beats of her heart.

"God, Kaminari!" Kyouka yelped, tossing a pillow at Kaminari's smiling face. "Do you ever knock?! I could have been fucking naked in here!"

"Why would you be naked?!" the blonde yelped, dropping his guitar case on the floor. "You knew I was coming over to practice!"

Kyouka was seemingly stunned into silence at the realization, her plans with Kaminari forgotten the moment Emiko entered her room.

"Oh my god, Kami. I'm so sorry-" she brushed the stray hairs off of Emiko's shoulders onto her floor. "You're right. Here, come sit. Let me just clean up and we can get to work, okay?"

Kaminari only nodded, seemingly confused as he took in his surroundings for the first time. Emiko sat in a chair in the middle of the room covered in a long black cape, hair cut short and kept tight around her face, covering the scarred eye she'd carefully kept hidden. She was smiling and a laugh bubbled on her lips as he stared blankly at her, eyebrows crinkled slightly.

"You good, Kami?" Jirou called, sweeping up the hair from the floor. "You haven't moved an inch."

"She's smiling," He answered, still staring at Emiko with wide eyes. "Did you know she could still do that?"

Emiko laughed, leaning her head forwards until her hair fell over her face and obscured the smile that was tugging up the corners of her lips.

"Kami!" Jirou crowed, and Emiko swore she heard a pillow crash into his head. "Of course she can smile, you idiot! She's not a robot!"

"No I mean, honestly, Ji. Think about it! When was the last time you saw her smile?" Kaminari yelped, and Emiko heard his body slump onto Kyouka's bed. "You know I don't mean anything by that right, Emiko?"

She couldn't seem to put the words together to form a sentence, so she only nodded. Laughter and tears fed together, and she couldn't tell whether she was sad or so happy it hurt. Her chest ached and her lungs were begging for air all while her heart begged to be held gently; while it pleaded to be loved and protected because dammit, she was in pain.

"What is wrong with you fucking extras?!" She heard Katsuki holler from the hallway, his voice trailing off as he no doubt took in the sign in front of him. She didn't realize this, but several of her classmates had gathered outside the door - apparently hearing Jirou call out the word naked was enough to bring people running.

In the back of the crowd, watching Emiko laughing and crying stood a misty eyed Shoto. His heart hammered in his chest, and he was fully convinced that if he didn't tear his gaze away from her he would go into cardiac arrest. She was laughing, but there was still so much pain and so much sadness in her gaze that he couldn't help the desire to rush forwards and wrap his arms around her shoulders. He worried that her laughter and her smile would be enough to convince everyone that she was okay again. That her pain and her trauma were relics of the past, but he knew all too well that nothing ever went away.

Pain and suffering would follow her whenever she thought of her experience, just as it had for him. He knew she would likely climb into her bed tonight and cry herself to sleep just as she had every other night, because the wounds on her heart hadn't yet healed. He knew, without a doubt, that she still needed him.

She needed him to wait patiently, for her to come to him. He knew that she would, just as she had a million times in his dreams. She would come calling and he would open his arms, and she would be home.