Chapter 4: Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go

Say, kid, where exactly did you get that bruise on your arm?

…

C'mon, kid, I can't help ya if you won't tell me.

…

…You can trust me.

…ad…

Sorry, I didn't catch that.

…Dad…

Your old man did that to you…?

…mm…

Let me take a good look at it again…

Don't.

It's okay… I'm not gonna hurt you...

…mm…

Sheesh, that ain't going away anytime soon.

…I know.

Let me get the first-aid kit upstairs. Help yourself with that piece of junk.

…Sure.

What's your name anyway?

…Kyoka…

May 7, 2XX1. Key Notes Music Store. Musutafu.

6:15 P.M.

Key Notes Music Store.

Kyoka had a habit of coming here to clear her mind in times of confusion, anger, stress—since her years of in middle school she would come here. Or, if she wants to, she would vent out all her frustrations on the jukebox, and every time she did "vent out" her frustrations on the poor piece of machinery, she would make sure that every kick she delivered would have a satisfying reverberating sound, loud enough that it could be heard on the store's speakers. And once she was done, she would always leave with a satisfying smirk on her face.

The first few times she had done so, she had been caught by the store's manager, who had always had his eyebrow quirked and an unamused look plastered on his face once he had caught the purple-haired girl kicking the poor machine's side. She always had a knack for ignoring any warnings given to her by someone she doesn't know, especially if that someone is older than her. She doesn't care about the first few warnings, the manager said to her then, if they don't want their business to go down the drain then they wouldn't even think about banning her from this store for life.

8 YEARS AGO…

One day, she had another crappy day and was in the mood to beat on a certain machine on a certain store and was at least hoping she could chip away some paint, once the sliding doors had slid open with a quick whirr she had immediately went to the back only to find that the stress reliever she had was no longer there on its spot. She had immediately stopped in her tracks and started to slowly move her head around the area in search for the machine, slowly she started to be frantic when it comes to whipping her head in search for the damn jukebox. It wasn't until a stranger had placed their hand on her should making her turn her head around, faster than necessary and surprisingly her neck did not snap nor did she felt any whiplash, once she made eye contact to the stranger, she was immediately hit with a feeling of rage.

It was the goddamn manager…

"Hey look, kid, if it's the damn jukebox you're looking for, it ain't here." His voice was strangely light and young, for someone in who's in his early-thirties. But it wasn't without with a hint of gruffness.

The longer she didn't see that jukebox, the more this overwhelming feeling seemed to spread throughout her body and it was evidently seen through her scrunched up face.

"Where…?" she managed to growl at the manager.

The manager kept his nonchalant attitude, and kept sight at the girl in front of him. He started to scratch the back of his neck with one of his hands, while the other was tightly tucked inside his pocket. After a few moments he slowly looked up and had his teeth gritting against each other, before he slowly sucked the air. "Why do you wanna know anyways?"

The irritation was evident in his voice, and so was Kyoka's thinning patience, in her voice. "So I can kick its ass." She made sure that she doesn't sound desperate to find the damn box.

"Yeah?" The manager incredulously said. "Well, go find something else to…" The manager was roaming his eyes around the girl's frail body and stature, until his eyes landed just by the end of the sleeve of her t-shirt. "…kick…" his initial statement was slowing down when he peered and saw a slight discoloration popping out just by the hole of her sleeve.

His eyes slowly widened and his mouth opened, as he suddenly felt his breath hitch in his throat and once he had looked at the girl—who had a questioning look at the man in front of her—he managed to breathe out, "Is that… a bruise?" he pointed at her arm.

The purple-haired girl suddenly looked at the man, briefly, before looking back at her arm and found that the bruise was definitely showing a bit. In a state of panic, she quickly covered her arm, by quickly pulling on the sleeve of her shirt in order to cover the small bit of discoloration. Desperate to get as far away as humanly possible from any witnesses, she immediately turned her heels, her sneakers squeaking and the sound echoed throughout the store, and she made a beeline for the store's front entrance. But before she could even make her second step, she felt a hand grip on her arm— not as tightly as she was expecting, which was the kind to leave finger marks on her arm, but tight enough that she couldn't get out of their grip— letting out a slight grunt as she was tugged to the point where she almost felt like she would fall backwards but she regained her footing, and quickly turned her head around to look at the owner's face.

She was surprised to see that it was the manager once again, and is the one preventing her from exiting the store. She tugged back so she could at least release herself from his grip, but the goddamn manager just won't let up. She reared her fist back and started to smack at the manager's forearm, once the side of her hand made impact, a loud smack was heard, so she kept on her frantic effort of hitting the manager's forearm hoping that he would let up and let her go. After her first hit the next punches weren't that impactful, as it didn't get as much wind up as she had on the first punch.

So on her sixth attempt, she raised her hand, hoping that this would be the last that she has to hit the damn arm, because of she's being honest, every impact her hand made on that arm has repercussions on her own hand. Before she could put the hand down, the manager's other hand gripped on her wrist and kept it in the air, surprised by this she kept on trying to loosen his grip on her hand to smack him again on the arm. She retaliated a bit longer before she felt her energy, leaving her and she was forced to look at the man who was crouched down to her level, and looking at her directly in the eyes. She found herself panting at speed record as her chest heaved repeatedly, but unfortunately the man wasn't the same, he just kept looking at her with the piercing glare that he always seemed to give her when he caught her kicking the jukebox. Once it seemed like she won't try and get away from her grip again, the manager slowly moved his head to the side, but keeping his eye contact at the girl till he can no longer keep said contact, and his attention drifted to his forearm, a portion of his skin was welling up and his skin was starting to change in color, even if he hates to admit it, this girl can pack one hell of a punch.

He brought his gaze back at the purple-haired girl in front of him and looked at her left arm, keeping his right hand gripped on her arm, he used his left hand to bring the girl's sleeve up to her shoulder, he took note of how the girl winced and he was more surprised by the size of her bruise.

He felt his chest tighten, his gut wrenching, and his heart racing.

This kind of injury, was not the kind of injury a small girl, like her, should even have.

The discoloration had almost enveloped her whole arm as a big chunk of violet and magenta was spread on her frail arm, where the bruise ends was where her veins seemed to pop, it was probably because it swelled up so much that it dragged to sleeve of her shirt upward, just barely making the bruise visible. Just the thought of it had made the manager almost want to make a beeline for the bathroom and release his breakfast, lunch, and yesterday's dinner.

He shook his head, needing to stand his ground and stay strong for the girl in front of him.

The manager looked at the girl once again, she kept her head down and he saw how puffy and red her eyes seem to be, he heard a soft sniff come from her, she brought her other hand and slowly rubbed the back of her palm on her eyes. His gaze on her softened, he unconsciously loosened his grip on her arm and brought his left hand to her shoulder and slowly rubbed it, as an addition he made soft shushing noises to try and stop her sniffling. He kept on repeating this gesture, until she slowly turned her head upward and let him see her face, he slowly brought his hand up to her face only for her to rear her head back in fear. He looked at her and gave a comforting smile, before trying again and using his thumb he wiped the girl's tears from her cheek, and he did the same for the other side of her face.

The girl looked incredulously at him, looking as if she was in a dream…

A dream where someone cared for her well-being…

It was almost too good to be true…

She didn't want to wake up anytime soon, nor did she want to go anywhere anytime soon…

She bit her lip as the floodgates to her eyes once again reopened and she lunged straight at the man and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and gripping the back of his shirt. Taking him by surprise he almost lost his balance, before hearing the girl sniff and wail again. He brought his hand to her back and rubbed it, using his other hand he caressed her purple-hair all the while making soft shushing noises. Hopefully, she would stop crying. Hearing these pained noises, has always have an effect on any human and this man was not any different. The longer she cried, the more it seemed his chest and his heart was getting crushed and would soon burst.

"It's okay…" He said in a hushed tone. It was the only words that he could form.

Even if the world seemed cold to her…

It was strangely warm…

Really warm…

She didn't want to let go of him…

She didn't want to go back home…

She didn't even want to go anywhere near her home…

Or go anywhere near that… that…

Monster…

It's funny. How a complete stranger seems to have made her feel much more at home, than her own home…

How this complete stranger had made her feel so much safer, than her own school…

Her wails slowly dissipated into the silent air of comfort she felt, and those noises she let out were now reduced to no more than mere sniffling. Her grip on the manager's shirt slowly loosen, feeling that she had let go on the cloth the man had softly planted his hands on her shoulders and slowly push her away to get a good look at her tear-stained face. She was still sniffling and her head was cast towards the floor, using his hand he slowly brought it to her chin and made her look up to his eyes.

His warm eyes and his comforting smile…

He put his hand inside one of his pockets and brought out a lavender handkerchief, and put the piece of cloth to the girl's wet face. Watching as the surface of the cloth slowly darken in color once it absorbed the liquid on her cheek, he kept on looking at her with such warmth and comfort, he made his way to her nose and had made quick work getting rid of the sticky substance just above her lip. He unfolded the handkerchief and planted it firmly to his palm and brought his hand to her nose, and giving her a slight nod.

Knowing that he was asking her to blow her nose to let out the rest of her snot, she complied and she blew her nose to the point where her ears popped. The man pinched her nose and the piece of cloth absorbed any remaining snot in her nose. He then folded the handkerchief and the both of them, cast their eyes to the floor, contemplating on what they would do next. The man had his elbows on his legs as he still crouched down to the girl's level, while the girl had used her wrist to wipe her nose and cheeks, the man looked at the girl and his mouth formed a thin line before giving an exasperated sigh and closing his eyes.

He opened his eyes again and brought his hand before the girl, and she just looked at him questioning what he was doing. There on his hand, was the lavender handkerchief he had used to clean her face, he brought it up to her.

"Take it." He said, in a soft tone.

The girl looked at him in surprise, before looking back to the handkerchief and back at the man before her. She hesitated for a bit, before putting her small hands on the damp piece of cloth. She looked at it for a brief moment, before clutching it to her chest, and looking back at the man who had stood up. He looked down at her with an annoyed expression and he closed his eyes and sucked in his breath. He scratched his head for a moment before looking back at the girl.

"You said that you have some jukebox to kick?"

PRESENT…

Kyoka had entered through the store's automatic sliding doors, once the doors had fully opened with a whirr she looked around the store, that was filled with music albums and records that date back to the very first day music was invented. There was a section for instruments, mostly had the basic ones, but she had to admit that even for a store with almost no customers on a daily basis, they can make some rad paint jobs and they also take customizing instruments.

Her footsteps seem to echo throughout the store, as she kept walking through the aisle and dragging her fingers throughout the different albums and each impact her fingers made on the album made a soft thump, carefully tucked inside the shelves, but her attention was not on the albums—nor the lazy ass cashier, who had his feet propped up to the counter and a magazine on his face and snoring as loud as the screams of the people of Pompeii, once Mount Vesuvius had erupted— no, she kept her eyes forwards until her footsteps had led her to a certain door to the back of the store. She could perfectly hear her racing heartbeats in the back of her head, and feel as though her chest would give away due to its rapid movement. She placed her hand on the knob, and she took a deep breath as she slowly opened the door, said door was creaking the whole time she was opening the door.

She pat the wall near her, in search for a certain light switch. Once she had found it, she flicked it upwards with a satisfying click. The light flickered to life, as its ray happily showed how the room is in the need for a renovation and how it had become the habitat of multiple dust bunnies.

What greeted her on the other side of the door was an almost empty room, its paint that coated the wall was near non-existent as she could see large chunks of gray popping from the rest of the beige colored walls. To be fair, those beige walls used to be clean white. Fortunately, the tiles on the floor didn't receive the same amount of damage as the walls did, it had some chipped corners and some light scratches but that was the worst of it.

She brought herself to look at a black leather that was laid on the right side of the room, it was more or less in good condition, the pull out doesn't work anymore but it was still comfy. Except maybe for the few stuffing popping out of the leather and a few dirty patches on it. Next up was a coffee table that laid on the center of the room, nothing bad to say about it other than it was dirty as hell.

But the pièce de résistance of the room would have to be the piece of machinery that laid on the other side of the room. Her hand dragged atop of the machine, along its n-shaped curve, and swiped her hand off the said machine, she managed to remove a patch of dust from the top. Her eyes landed on the glass that showed the intricate interior of the machine, a plethora of large oval-shaped black discs waiting to be selected and played by someone, she wiped the glass free from dust. Her hand dragged on to the cool small slab of metal with a slit opening, on the right side of the machine— presumably where the person would drop their coins in. Looking down to the cold floor near the vintage machine, she found the black cord dropped flimsily, which brought her to picking it up and bringing it near the electrical outlet. She looked like she was in deep thought for a second, before lightly shaking her head—her jacks flopping across the air—and slowly inserting the two thin metals inside the slits of the outlet.

She almost jumped when the cord lit up a spark when she was at the opening of the slits.

Fingers crossed.

With a bit of time the colorful fluorescent neon lights flickered to life as the machine itself had automatically played a song. The sound that came out of the machine was distorted, at first— the deep and eerie kind of tone like the ones you hear in most abandoned kiddie rides in amusement parks— but when it's given a few seconds the music was as clear as a diamond. She finally recognized the pop and catchy music the jukebox was playing.

Jitterbug

Ah, this song…

Jitterbug

Jitterbug

Jitterbug

She snapped her fingers and mouthed the lyrics in synch with the song playing. Smiling the whole time.

The manager had some good taste when it came to the music. Most discs that he used were dated back to the late 20th century until the very early 21st century. But it was mostly music from the 1980's.

She would have given him more credit, if the music inside the machine were all Japanese, but alas, it wasn't. The manager was a well-endowed person whenever it came to foreign music, especially English music. She wasn't going to lie to herself, she found every song made in the 1980's were probably the best, considering that there had been so many good bands who made some really good songs. But when it came to the best bands in the 1980's, the Brits had won that title by a landslide. It wasn't really a problem listening to English songs, but it was a pain in the ass to try and know what the lyrics are saying and what it meant.

After some time, she had almost mastered the English language. Sadly as a born Japanese, she still can't differentiate her r and l's. She was getting it, although she gave up trying when it seemed like she was making a fool of herself.

Then the music abruptly came to a stop, with the lights immediately flickering out, which prompted her to give an annoyed sigh and a disappointed shake of the head. She stood up from the floor and slowly made her way to the other side of the machine. Her fingers laid on the side of the jukebox, slowly dragging it to the curved top.

' If I remember it right, the sweet spot should be right around…'

In a swift movement she the side of her hand to smack the top portion of the jukebox.

' Here.'

In response, the jukebox flickered back to reality once more and the music flowed out from the machine.

You put the boom-boom into my heart

(hoo, hoo)

You send my soul sky high when lovin' starts

Jitterbug into my brain

(yeah, yeah)

Giving a satisfied smirk as she still remembered how the thing operated, she went out of her way to literally give herself a pat in the shoulder.

"Still got it." Her grin broadened.

Goes a bang-bang-bang 'til my feet do the same

She walked over to the big black leathered piece of furniture and she flopped herself to the sofa, leaning her neck to the back until she was facing towards the ceiling and brought her feet up the coffee table, her brown loafers making a tap once she planted it on the table. She contemplated on what she should do next. Starting with why she was even here.

But something's bugging you

(ha-ha, ha-ha)

' Got that right.' She chuckled at how the song seems to be communicating with her.

Well it was better than having no one to talk to at all. As of late, she hadn't been conversing much with her own group of friends, heck, she hadn't even laughed at Kaminari once these past 3 days. She knows that her friends are starting to become aware of how she always seems to stare out into space in class— although that's been a norm for Kyoka to do in class. Her total obliviousness to her surroundings had almost led her to bump into a student more than twice, and all of her friends had seen it. She was racking her head on what she should do with him. She didn't know why she was making such a big deal out of it. So what, if a certain green-haired classmate of hers had been the one in control of her thoughts as of late? That didn't mean anything.

Something ain't right

(ha-ha, ha-ha)

No.

No, she figured that it was something else. It was something else about Midoriya…

She stopped looking upwards and faced the table in front of her, found a small rectangular object with her feet largely obscuring said object. The jukebox continued to play the song in a very loud volume.

She put one of her foot down, and before she could put down her other she was surprised when she hesitated. It was a confusing reflex on her part, but she could feel her stomach turning itself into a ball. Taking a deep breath, she slowly moved her foot out of the way.

My best friend told me what you did last night

(ha-ha, ha-ha)

Her feet now firmly planted to the ground, she leaned her upper body closer to the dust-infested small rectangular mahogany picture frame. She carefully reached for the small object, not caring that her hand seemed to shake as it got closer and how her breathing hitched for a moment. Her hand had finally gripped the frame and she brought it up closer to her, the dust fully obscuring her view of the picture. Using her other hand she slowly swiped her palm to remove the specks of gray.

Left me sleepin' in my bed

(ha-ha, ha-ha)

I was dreaming, but I should have been with you instead

(ha-ha)

Her eyes widened and her mouth opened the more of the picture was seen. Fully cleaning the glass covering the picture, and giving a small gasp, she felt her stomach kept on turning into so many shapes, her heart seemed like they would burst out of her chest and her breathing had turned erratic to the rhythm of her heartbeats.

Wake me up before you go-go

The picture consisted of two people, one of a younger Kyoka Jirou and the other would be the manager of this establishment, she was holding a mic up in the air, in one hand, while the other held a lavender handkerchief and one of her arms hooked around the manager's neck, while the man himself had his arms around her small waist and was lifting her up. Both were sporting very huge smiles on their face, not having a hint of care in the world, as the room they were in were filled with colorful lights, presumably from the jukebox in the background.

She found her fingertips caressing the face of the man with her younger self, couldn't help but let the corners of her lips curve upward. She looked at his sleek black hair, combed properly— although she remembered that she would sometimes mess with his hair— and her eyes went down to the man's neck and found, almost indistinguishable, three slits on each side of his neck. She remembered that these slits were his quirk, more specifically being able to breathe underwater. She chuckled at the thought that she used to call him by a certain nickname.

Fishface.

She smiled some more, it was a really good nickname in her opinion, granted that the man really had yellowish eyes and his pupils would sometimes expand to the point where it would cover his whole sclera, though that would usually depend if he felt strong emotions.

She saw something transparent drop in the glass, near her fingers, snapping her out of her trance. She felt the tears flow down from her cheeks and it seemed to have gathered to her chin, using a hand to wipe the streak of water flowing down from her eyes proved to be futile, as more tears kept on flowing. She then didn't know what was happening, she can feel herself letting out a small sniff then her noises turned to some small whimpers.

Why..?

Why am I feeling this way..?

She was interrupted by a couple of knocks to the now opened door to this room. Leaning on the doorframe was a woman who had black bedhead hair which fell to her shoulders and stuck out in so many places, she appeared to be in her early twenties. Her dark violet eyes were just looking straight into Kyoka's, and she flashed the high school student with a small smile, but Kyoka noted the hint of sadness in the adult's violet orbs.

The woman slowly walked towards the girl and went around the table to sit gently near the purple-haired girl, the whole time she gave her that pained smile on her face, and Kyoka just looked at the woman. A short silence was all that was heard in the room, until the woman suddenly gave the girl a soft pat on her lap. The woman's posture relaxed a bit, and so did Kyoka's.

"Been a while since you've been here. What happened?" Kyoka saw some of the shark-like teeth that showed when the woman opened her mouth, to greet Kyoka.

Kyoka looked back at the woman before her, knowing full well who it was and she only gave the woman an embarrassed look and a sheepish grin, as she scratched the back of her head.

"That was embarrassing. Don't sneak up on me like that, Yua-nee." Kyoka managed to let a smile form.

The woman, whose name was Yua, chuckled, finally taking in that the purple-haired student was in this very room, after quite some time. "And let you cry yourself to sleep here of all places? No way. Sakana-nii would never forgive me."

Sakana…

Even his name sounded like a fish.

Kyoka couldn't help but let out a chuckle, feeling lighter.

"But you're dodging the question, Kyoka-chan." The woman reminded the girl. "What's going on?"

Kyoka couldn't help but feel the same kind of sadness wash over her again. She cast her eyes down to the floor, here interlocked hands placed firmly on her lap. Knowing the woman before her, she won't give up questioning until the high school student doesn't give her a satisfying response.

Letting out an annoyed sigh, looking at the woman through the corner of her eye, and closing her eyelids.

"It's nothing." Kyoka wasn't about to budge that easily.

The woman had been about 14 years old when she had met the girl that was sitting with her on the couch. Yua had always been like an older sister to Kyoka, and woman had always felt like the girl before her had been the little sister she had always wished for, which led her to feeling that she's been given the responsibility to protect the girl like she was her own sister. So it pained her to see that this girl, that she considers her sister, was going through so much burdens at such a young age. Having no dreams in becoming a hero, Yua never felt the kind of pain Kyoka went through in her first year of high school. When she had seen the news of the villain attack targeting U.A. students in their camping trip, and the second those students went back home, Kyoka was in the hospital. Yua had almost been one of those people that tried to sue the school because of their incompetence of protecting their own students, but deep down she knew that this would also be the life Kyoka would have regardless.

And it was painful to see.

One day, she would go to that hospital and find Kyoka battered and bloodied, with a low chance of her ever surviving. What would she do then?

Cry?

Weep and drink?

Empty her bank account, just so she could get some treatment?

Fucking pray?!

She wished to whatever God out there that that day would never come, and that the girl before her would live her life happily, finally finding love, maybe making a family of her own, and when the time comes she would have no regrets. These things were what Yua wished for, for the girl.

She swore that she won't let anything happen to Kyoka.

She was as equally as stubborn as the girl beside her after all.

" 'Nothing'?" the woman scoffed. "You decided to come back here after 5 months, and the second I find you, you were bawling your eyes out." She turned to her side so she could look directly at the high school girl. "So don't give me that bull."

Kyoka expected that response, it was worth a shot. But all that woman was getting from her was a silent treatment and a view of the back of her head.

The woman knew she wasn't getting any answers, so she let out a defeated sigh and decided to ask another question. "How's your mom?"

The purple-haired student visibly flinched at the mention of her mother. The memories of when she was just a child came flooding in and she could hear her screams.

The pained screams of her and her mother.

Those excruciating screams…

Her throat ached at the remembrance of how much she screamed on a daily basis, as a child.

The seemed to only get louder and louder the more time she reminisced those memories.

The memories she tried so hard to bury inside the darkest depths of her mind.

Why was she remembering it now of all times?

She can feel something boil inside of her. Her fist started to clench until her knuckles went white.

She felt something touch her shoulder and she almost jumped at the contact, and she whipped her head to look behind her and saw the pained but comforting eyes of the black-haired woman. Yua gave the girl's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. She gave Kyoka a small smile.

"Kyoka, I know it hurts." She patted the girl's shoulder. "To have your own father do those things to you and your mother." She said solemnly.

Kyoka sniffed and she kept trying hard to keep her voice from shaking, although her efforts had been futile. "He was an ass and I hated him with my whole life…" Tears streamed down her cheek and her mouth trembled, and she broke. "…but he was my father."

The woman was visibly worried for the girl, she may not know the pain she had experienced but she wanted to at least comfort her. "C'mere." She pulled the high school student and let the purple-haired girl rest her head on her shoulder as she cried some more. Softly kissing the top of the student's head in a motherly fashion, and caressing her hair. "It's gonna be okay."

"I just…" Her voice kept on shaking as she kept on cutting herself off due to her sniffling. "It feels like I've lost the two dads I have in my life…" She whimpered.

She knew that her brother had been like a father figure to the purple-haired girl. He had treated the girl like she was his own, and in return the girl experienced the love of what the father should give to their own children.

"One's in a fucking prison…"

A couple of years ago, it was Kyoka's eleventh birthday and Yua and her brother had decided to pay a visit to Kyoka's house to celebrate. Kyoka's father, Kurai, doesn't actually celebrate his own daughter's birthday, not even once, which gave the siblings an idea. As much as Kyoka's mother wanted to let the two inside their own house, she knows that it'll only serve to enrage Kurai. Only it had been too late and long story short, a fight broke out between Sakana and Kurai which brought Kurai to where he is now. Divorced and living the rest of his life behind bars.

"And the other…" It hurt Kyoka to even say the something close to the words she needed to get out.

"Was too much of a stubborn asshole?" Yua jokingly said, but deep down she was hurting like Kyoka, a few tears streamed down her cheeks as well.

Kyoka let out a shaky chuckle and a much-needed smile. "…Yeah…"

Sakana Watanabe was a man known for being stubborn and as hard-headed as a rock, but most of all, he's as loyal and faithful to a person as any good-hearted soldier serving his or her own country. He had a tough exterior, as tough as if he can harden his own skin, but he had a kind heart, the kindest heart that would rival a certain former number one hero. A man that would go down swinging his arms until he drop dead to the ground.

And he did exactly that.

Knowing Kyoka, she felt responsible for what happened. Knowing that there was something she could have done in order to prevent him from trying to involve himself in the war. But she knew that even if she could go back in time, there was nothing that she could do to stop him from doing this, even if she outrights tells him what will happen.

She had visited that tombstones more times than she could count.

Until she just stopped, and tried to move on.

Tried…

But she couldn't.

"He went down swinging." Yua rubbed the girl's back. "Exactly what he would want."

"He's stupid." Kyoka let out a slight pout. It didn't even occur to her that her shoulders felt like they had been removed from carrying something heavy.

"But brave." Yua retorted.

"Isn't that the same thing?"

"Kyoka, you learning in a hero school. Didn't they teach you the difference between those two things?" She pushed the girl a bit so she could look at her eyes once again.

Kyoka chuckled and her smile enlarged. She wiped a few tears off her cheeks.

"I'll say it anyway. 'Someone who is brave can never be immune to fear, for that would just make him stupid and irrational. But he-' "

" 'Whose noble souls its fear subdues, and bravely dares the danger nature shrinks from'. " Kyoka cut the woman off. "I'm still pretty sure he got that off of a fortune cookie or the internet." She chuckled.

"Yeah, he was pretty known for just ripping off quotes from the internet."

The two women in the room continued to laugh and joke about the fish-based quirk user and the antics he used to pull off with the two of them.

Soon they were running out of breath from laughing way too hard and had given themselves the chance to breathe. Leaning back to the couch and their chests heaving.

"To answer your question…" Kyoka spoke after a few seconds of silence.

This caught the woman's attention and she looked at the girl, with a confused look.

Kyoka cast her eyes downwards to her interlocked hands, "Mom's doing great, she sometimes still has those pained look in her eyes, but she seemed to be brighter than before. The new guy's… well…" Kyoka sweat dropped at recalling how lame a certain blonde man was. "He's lame as hell, and loud too…"

Her eyes softened and she let out a small smile.

"But he's definitely an improvement."

Kyoka couldn't help but let herself smile some more and reminisced at the times she and Kyotoku had spent learning instruments and the times she had slammed her forehead to her palm due to the man's lameness. But Kyoka liked him, a good man.

Like Sakana.

"And what about my other question?" Yua interrupted the girl from her daze.

"Huh?"

"Why are you suddenly here? Something must've happened." Yua Watanabe had always been a perceptive woman, a substitute teacher in an elementary school and manager of a music store with eyes in the back of her head.

Kyoka was confused as to why the woman would question such a thing, but then wondered it herself.

Why did she go here?

Her mind suddenly flashed a picture of Midoriya with his guitar playing underneath a tree.

Midoriya…

"Who-riya?"

Kyoka didn't know that she said his name out loud, to which she immediately covered her mouth.

"What does a boy have to do with this?" Yua immediately probed the girl with questions, and had her eyebrow quirked as she asked her.

"H-hey whatever you're thinking in that brain of yours, throw it in the dumpster! Plus, what makes you think that Midoriya's a boy?!" Kyoka felt flustered.

"Wow." Yua's eyes widened she slowly blinked as she looked at the jukebox. "I've never seen someone be this in love since college." She chuckled halfway.

"I'm not 'in love'!" Kyoka slammed the couch cushions beside her, and made an audible smack. "It's a little complicated."

"Try me."

"Well..." She wasn't sure if Midoriya would appreciate it if she told others about his hidden talent.

In the end, she told the black-haired woman about the situation the green-haired student found himself in, making sure that she left out the part with his hidden talent, and the Bakugo and Uraraka situation, and explaining to her why she feels the need to help him.

Other than that though she described to her how Midoriya is like, not by how heroic he seemed, but how great he is as a person. But also how heroic he is.

Timid, but sweet.

Emotional, but driven.

Unselfish and kind and caring.

Has the biggest heart.

Unbeknownst to Kyoka she had started rambling about what she saw in Midoriya, and this continued until she had found out that she had been saying his last name like a thousand times, and by the time she found out her eyes widened and looked at the eyes of the woman listening to her ramble about some classmate of hers and how great he is.

Yua had ignored the unnecessary parts of Kyoka's explanation, like the personality ramblings and the obvious light crushing, but she was not going to tell her that, she would rather want her to know that herself. She could at least give her that. But what she is entirely shocked about is how important this person is to Kyoka, and by the way she described him, he's a good kid just lost and troubled, and is on the brink of breaking.

"So he's that important to you, huh?"

Kyoka was silent for a moment before giving an audible murmur, "Y-yeah. He's given me more than what I could ever hope for."

"Then what the hell are you sitting here for?!" Yua exclaimed. To which Kyoka just looked incredulous and surprised. "He clearly needs you so go! Before something happens." She started to carry the girl to her feet and pushed her towards the entrance.

"H-hey! Wait!"

"No time, c'mon chop-chop! You have a boy that needs your help and you're here crying while he waits for you to talk to him after 3 days?!" She pushed the purple-haired girl outside and planted her hands on her hips. "That's excruciatingly long, Kyoka-chan!"

"Yeah! But what the hell do I even say to the guy?!" She lifted her arms from her sides.

"I don't know, but you'll think of something! You always do."

The sliding doors closed and all she could see is the retreating form of the black-haired woman. Kyoka turned to look at the direction towards the train station, only a train ride away.

What the hell.

She made a beeline for the station and determination clouding her mind, she would make sure that she does repay that green-haired student even if it's the last thing she'll ever do in her life. She can't help but give a smile that perfectly shows her excitement.

You'll see.

6:50 P.M. U.A. High Training Grounds.

"What the hell are we doing here?"

"You know why."

"No, I fucking don't."

"Let's finish it."

"What?"

"Our fight."