I woke up thirty minutes later than usual, and couldn't muster up the effort to climb out of my sleeping bag and face the day. Staring at the ceiling, I tried to convince myself that going to school was necessary despite everything going on. I didn't want to face my friends today, and I didn't want to go to Yuuei Academy. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and tried to keep from crying again.

I wasn't sure how to feel. I was upset, sad, angry, and… relieved. I felt disgusted with myself for feeling relieved by my grandmother's state. I loved her because she was my family, but she had never been good for me, crushing me with the guilt and obligation of caring for her. In the end, she had chosen herself over me as well.

Missus Yukihime stepped into the room, so I opened my eyes and glanced over. She looked concerned, but also firm. "Ichigo, you have school in twenty minutes," she said decisively. "You told me it takes you ten minutes to get there, so you need to get ready and leave now." She left no room to argue, not that I would. I respected Missus Yukihime enough to get out her way.

Climbing to my feet, I grabbed my crumpled uniform off of the floor. Missus Yukihime left the backroom, and I changed slowly, taking my time pulling on my knee high socks and tying my beat-up black sneakers. I just couldn't find any urgency in me to rush out the door and avoid being late.

I traveled to school in a daze. I ended up missing my usual bus, and with my horribly slow walking pace, doubled the amount of time I normally took. By the time I was standing in front of Class 1-A's door, I was nearly an hour late. I laid my hand on the door handle, and paused. I took a deep breath, and straightened my shoulders.

My alarm clock hadn't been working this morning, and that was all anyone needed to know. I couldn't explain my situation without admitting that I'd run away - and no one was going to ever know that.

I slid the classroom door open, and the room went quiet instantly. Mister Aizawa stared at me from his spot in front of the board, clearly in the middle of teaching. I bowed to him, muttering a quiet, "I apologize for my lateness," before rushing to my seat, sitting as quietly as possible. Mister Aizawa stared at me for a moment longer before continuing the lesson. Izuku glanced back at me, looking concerned. I smiled at him shyly, shaking my head. "I woke up late," I whispered, and Izuku nodded, turning back to the front.

I leaned back in my chair, and forced myself to focus on Mister Aizawa. I needed a distraction right about now.

"G-good evening, M-Miss K-Koharu," I stammered, stepping inside the familiar house. I reached up to impulsively tug on my hair, only to brush the shorn endings of my newly cropped locks. My eyes became watery all over again.

Miss Koharu bent down, blue eyes wide. "You cut your hair?" She observed surprised.

I shook my head frantically, hands balling into fists. "Sh-she made m-me!" I cried, breaking down into sobs. Miss Koharu kneeled down, wrapping her arms around me, and I sobbed into her shoulder. "Sh-she said th-that b-boy's don't have l-long hair!" I cried. "B-but I'm n-not a b-boy, M-Miss Koharu! I'm n-not!"

Miss Koharu pat my back gently. "It's okay, Asano-chan," she soothed, tightening her arms around me. "I know you aren't a boy," she said. "Your grandmother's just having some trouble remembering that."

"She never remembers!" I bawled, pressing my face into Miss Koharu's shirt, soaking her shirt with my tears. "She never remembers me!"

I didn't have any lunch credits left. I stalked out of the cafeteria, hands shaking with frustration. I had skipped breakfast this morning without thinking, and now I didn't have any credits for lunch either. I could sit with my friends, but they'd question why I had no food when I normally ate plenty. I didn't want to answer why I didn't have any money, not even enough to buy an apple to snack on. Choking down the curse words I wanted shout and the urge to attack someone, I turned on my heel sharply, ready to go hide on the roof.

It felt like the little life I'd built up was falling apart in my hands. I'd almost died, Tenya had left the school, my grandmother was in the hospital dying, I'd wrecked my uniform fighting Bakugo, and now I couldn't eat lunch for the next three days. The universe had apparently decided to make my life it's running joke again.

Biting my lip, I told myself I wouldn't cry over something so stupid as missing lunch. As I marched down the hall, head down and shoulders shaking, I missed the suspicious eyes on my back. I wasn't as alone as I thought.

When I returned to the flower shop, I was tired and hungry. Walking through the door, I prepared myself for another day of cleaning, hoping I could beg Missus Yukihime into buying dinner tonight. Normally I skipped that meal unless Missus Yukihime decided to take me out to eat, but since I hadn't eaten all day it was my best shot. I could dip into the money I'd saved up, but I hated the idea of spending my emergency cash on food.

Strolling into the back, I opened the closet. Reaching in to grab the broom, I paused when I heard the phone ringing. Missus Yukihime, inside her office, immediately picked it up, and I shrugged, taking the broom out now that the ringing had stopped. Shutting the door, I decided I'd start with sweeping the back room this time.

Missus Yukihime opened her office door, face grim. "It's the lady from yesterday," she told me. "She wants to talk to you again."

I set my jaw, reaching out and taking the phone from her. "What is it?" I asked tiredly, not really wanting to hear whatever came next.

"I need you to come to the hospital," Koharu said, and I physically balked at the idea, dropping the broom. She rushed to explain. "Your grandmother wanted to see her son again, before she goes, and if you come then-"

I grit my teeth. "Then what? I can pretend to be Anmatsu?" I demanded, scoffing. "What will you do, Koharu? Cut my hair and bind my chest again? I don't look like my father anymore, Koharu, and I'm not going to pretend to be him again. Stop bothering me," I ended the call immediately, cutting Koharu off before she could guilt me further. I held the phone out to Missus Yukihime, jaw clenched and hand shaking. "Please ignore her if she calls again," I requested as she took the phone from me.

Missus Yukihime nodded, looking just as tired as I did. "I will, but Ichigo," she sighed. "Please don't do anything you'll regret later."

I nodded, glaring at the ground as I picked the broom back up. "I won't," I agreed bitterly. I wouldn't let myself get pulled back into Koharu and my grandmother's mess ever again, I had grown beyond it. Missus Yukihime kept staring at me sadly, and I bit my tongue to keep from yelling at her to go away, taking the broom and stomping out to the front. I'd sweep the shop first instead.

Growling under my breath angrily, I started cleaning up the front, collecting the dust into one little pile in the corner. It was particularly dirty today, so I knew I'd be there awhile. As I veritably attacked the dirty floor, accompanied by hissed cuss words and incomprehensible mutters, I was interrupted by the ringing of the doorbell.

I forcibly relaxed my shoulders, pressing a smile onto my face as I turned around. "Welcome to-" I cut myself off when I saw Shouto, who looked rather serious. "Uh, hey, Shouto. What're you doing here?"

Shouto blinked, mouth setting determinedly. "Visiting a friend," he said, and I barely kept myself from reacting. Somehow, he'd known something was wrong, or I was just unlucky and he'd chosen the worst day to 'visit a friend' by coincidence. Both were perfectly plausible.

I loosened my white-knuckle grip on the broom. "I'm kinda working right now," I excused, shrugging sheepishly. "It's not the best time."

"I'll help," Shouto decided, and I bit my lip in frustration. I crossed out the "coincidence" option - he was here to find out what was wrong.

I shifted my feet nervously. "I d-don't think that's a good idea-" I started, trying to turn him away.

"Don't be silly Ichigo," Missus Yukihime interrupted out of nowhere. I spun around to see her standing behind the counter, smiling airily. "If he wants to help, he can, I won't deduct your pay," she said, ripping my excuse out from under me.

I clenched the broom tighter. "This is my job, customers shouldn't clean!" I protested vainly.

"I don't mind," Shouto interjected calmly. I wasn't going to get him out of here if Missus Yukihime was helping him.

Missus Yukihime clapped her hands together. "Then there we go! There's cleaning supplies in the back, just ask Ichigo about what to do," she said cheerfully, re-entering her office before I could make up another reason I didn't need help.

Shouto nodded, and then looked to me expectantly. I swallowed my anger with effort. "Follow the hall behind the counter, the first door on your left is the closet," I instructed. "Grab the duster, you can help with that," I decided, giving him the job I had the most trouble with. If he was so determined to help, he could dust the spots I had a hard time reaching. Shouto strode into the back immediately, returning with a minute with the feathery blue duster in hand.

"What am I doing?" he asked plainly, holding the duster awkwardly.

I gestured to the shelves lining the walls. "Go along the top of those for now. They're the places I don't normally get," I said, quickly getting back to sweeping again. Absorbing myself in my task, I finished sweeping the front, and then glanced up to see how Shouto was doing. My eyes widened in surprise. His hair was covered in grey flecks, and despite easily being able to reach the shelves, he was only halfway through. "Uh… what are you doing?" I asked, wondering if he was intentionally trying to cover himself in dust.

Shouto turned around, dust in hand, his eyes obviously irritated by all the dust in the air. "I don't know…" he said slowly, refusing to meet my eyes. "I've never done this before…"

I blinked in surprise, and then facepalmed. "Of course," I said, shaking my head. "You probably have a staff in your home that cleans for you," I walked over to him, taking the duster from his hands and laying it on the counter. I glanced back at his hair and giggled despite myself. "You should probably try to brush the dust off your head," I told him. "Why on earth would you offer to help me clean if you didn't know what you were doing?"

Shouto shrugged, reaching up to bat the dust out of his hair. He wasn't very successful. "I didn't know what else to do," he answered, and I bit my lip.

"You don't have to do anything," I told him, crossing my arms. "I'm fine."

"The last time I didn't do anything, Hosu happened," Shouto said curtly. "I'm not risking it."

My eyes widened, and then I sighed. I leaned the broom against the counter next to the duster, realizing that telling Shouto to go away wasn't going to work. "There isn't anything you can do," I warned him, feeling my resolve crumbling. I wasn't sure what I could tell him, without divulging the whole story.

Shouto nodded. "Very well," he said implacably.

"My grandmother's in the hospital with a fatal case of pneumonia," I summarized shortly. "I just found out last night."

Shouto frowned. "Can't you heal her?" He asked, confused.

I bit my lip. "You need a license to use a quirk inside a hospital, along with signed consent," I explained, voice soft. "I have neither, and she's also been diagnosed with Alzheimer's, so even if I break the rules to heal her, she won't leave the hospital again."

"You're going to visit her soon, then?" Shouto said. "You should tell Izuku, he's been worrying nonstop."

I shook my head. "I'm not," I answered firmly, ignoring his widening eyes. "I don't get along with my grandmother, and I don't want to see her again," I said, trying to convince both Shouto and myself at the same time.

There was a long pause. "That sounds like what I told myself about my mother," Shouto said finally, and I flinched, feeling my lie slap me back in the face. "I won't take anymore of your time," he finished, and I glanced back over my shoulder to see him walking towards the door.

"Wait," I called, and he paused in front of the door. "... You won't tell anyone, right?" I said slowly.

Shouto looked at me solidly. "I won't," he said, before turning and stepping outside. "Have a good night, Ichigo." He shut the door, and it chimed softly. I watched him walk down the darkening street outside, until he vanished from the window.

I sighed heavily, chin falling to my chest. Missus Yukihime had told me not to do anything I'd regret… would I regret this?

Would I regret not visiting her? Or would I regret going at all?

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KYUUBI KUROBA: I think that's part of the difficulty of Ichigo's situation. I didn't want to write a "regular" abuse scenario to explain Ichigo's anxiety and lack of self-esteem, because there really is no "regular" abuse. When family and real people get involved, things become complicated, and there isn't ever a clear "bad guy". A lot of fanfiction writers default to 2-D physically abusive guardians just to create tragic backstories for their characters, and I didn't want something so simple for Ichigo, who I've tried to make as real as possible. That's part of why I decided to cover a less-common type of abuse: emotional abuse/neglect. It's less evidently harmful than physical abuse, but its effects are just as damaging, as can be seen with Ichigo, who was stuck pretending to be her father while the adults around her (who should have been protecting her) turned their cheek. In the end, it created a scared, lonely girl with zero self-confidence or communicative abilities. So if you're feeling sympathetic for Ichigo, that means I'm doing my job as a writer right!