A/N: Just a warning- this has some HUGE spoilers for manga chapters 296 & 272 (and soon-to-be-animated in the anime). I'm not pulling punches here; this is a therapy session between Emi and Shouta, so they're going to be discussing deaths. ;) And I feel like it's fitting, given the last chapter :') (372). This also references Aizawa's past, so spoilers for Vigilantes chapters 59-64, MHA manga chapters 163, 217, 253, 255, and anime episodes 78, 100, and 107. Yeah...I think that's it. Last chance to back out now, unless you want to see some characters grapple with grief at losing friends and acquaintances. :')

~~LAST WARNING~~

"I brought us some tea." Emi Fukukado held up a grocery bag and jiggled it around as she stood outside Aizawa's UA apartment. "For our therapy session today."

Aizawa stepped out of the way. He'd agreed to meet Emi and have a chat about recent events since she seemed convinced he hadn't properly processed the events that had happened.

Maybe he hadn't.

"All right."

Emi set to work in the kitchen. He flipped on the electric kettle for her and let the water boil.

"Not to mention, I got these cute little mugs for us." She pulled out the gaudiest mug he'd ever seen. A painted black cat stared at him from the side, and the handle was a tail. "See? Lookie. It's a Shouta Aizawa cat cup!" She nudged his ribs with it.

He glared at her.

But it was kind of cute.

"I got a few more." She pulled out one of the same design, but this time with a green kitten. A pink one soon followed. "The green's for me. Pink is for Eri. I had them custom made in a shop downtown after I left yesterday." Her eyes twinkled mischievously. "One of the benefits of having me as a wife. I'm a very thoughtful gift giver. And I compliment people well, too. For example, you have a very cute butt."

"Emi." Aizawa groaned. "I'm going to need real therapy after I get done with you."

"Trust me, Shouta. You secretly like it. I know. Deep down, you'd be sad if I disappeared. If I got dusted by Shigaraki today, you'd be beside yourself. And filled with regret you never made a move."

Aizawa grunted. What could he say? Imagining her, dusted like so many before…like the pro-hero Crust…

"Stop." His voice came out a bit gruffer than he intended. "That's not something to joke about."

"My jokes are much funnier, Shouta. You should know that by now." Emi's eyes actually seemed sad for a moment. "I was being honest there. At least, I think you'd regret it if I disappeared."

Aizawa fingered the cat cup. "Eri would miss you. And you've only spent one day with her."

"I didn't ask if Eri would miss me. But speaking of which, where is my little chickadee?"

"Mirio took her out to get caramel apples and boba tea. She'll be hyper when she returns, I'm sure." He sighed. "I told him to keep her out for a while. That I had a guest coming over."

"That's good." Emi's voice turned softer. "She doesn't need to overhear this. She needs the adults in her life to be strong and fearless, but we're not robots, Shouta. And there's been a lot to digest recently."

She finished their tea while he moved to the couch and sat in silence. When she emerged, she rested the two mugs on the coffee table and sat down beside him. She propped her elbow up on the back of the couch and rested her other hand on his knee.

"I don't even know where to begin. There's so much," she said softly. "Do you want to pick?"

Aizawa shook his head. He didn't know what he felt inside; Emi seemed better at asking questions that made him try and sort things out, at least.

"Okay." Emi sucked in a deep breath. "We could talk about how one of the high-end nomu's—Kurogiri—was actually the hijacked corpse of Oboro Shirakumo."

Aizawa furrowed his brow and blinked a few times. The image of Oboro's face, floating behind that purple mist in a Tartarus cell, had kept him awake many nights.

Oboro had died protecting Aizawa. Maybe not intentionally, not directly, but Oboro died during a mission. He'd tried to save some nursery kids—no, he had saved the nursery kids—but Aizawa hadn't been able to save his best friend.

And then to find out Oboro's corpse had been stolen…that there might actually be some remnants of personality trapped inside the nomu Kurogiri…

"You and Hizashi were best friends with Oboro growing up. He gave you your goggles." Emi searched Aizawa's face; why did she have to look so serious?

Right—he'd begged her for years to be serious, and now it made him uncomfortable when she did?

He just…hadn't expected her to be so good at it.

"Yeah." Aizawa swallowed. He could feel the tears in his eyes. He'd cried when he first faced Kurogiri, too. After the truth came out. "We wanted to open up our own agency…together. The three of us…though we also invited…" He stuttered. "…We also…invited Midnight."

Emi sniffled. "I'm sorry about her death. I know you've probably barely had time to process it. She died in the battle that put you in the hospital."

"Besides Hizashi, I suppose she's…she was…the person I was closest to on the staff. She got me the job." Aizawa rubbed the bridge of his nose. Maybe he could keep the tears from falling out that way. "She was older than me in class, but we did our internship together. Her flirting was worse than yours, but…" Aizawa closed his eyes for a moment. "She was a friend."

He very rarely said those words out loud. About anyone. He didn't even go around and tell people that Hizashi was a friend—and they'd been close friends since childhood.

"Hizashi took in the cat." Aizawa mumbled the words. "Because I was in the hospital."

Emi tilted her head. "What cat?"

"That stupid cat we found as students. Sushi." Aizawa took a shaky breath. "Midnight kept it for us. It's so old now, but someone needed to take care of it. Midnight would have wanted that. Oboro would have wanted that."

"That must be the oldest cat in existence." Emi grinned.

"She's only 16. That's on the high end of normal." Aizawa fidgeted. "She's very old, though. And fat. Midnight treated that thing like a queen." Aizawa rubbed the back of his neck. "But don't think we're just going to talk about me here. What about you? You raided the Paranormal Liberation Front HQ at Gunga Mountain Villa. Were you…hurt?"

"Nice of you to ask so long after the fact." Emi smirked. "I didn't know if you knew." She rolled up the hem of her shirt just enough to show him a white scar on her side, mostly healed. "That's pretty much it. Some nameless villain got me with a metal quirk before I could incapacitate him."

Aizawa groaned.

"But you. You were at Jaku Hospital. Shigaraki destroyed it…I was so worried, Shouta." Emi choked.

No—she couldn't actually be crying, could she?

Crying over him?

Aizawa sighed. "Oboro…Nemuri…Crust…so many more people have died…and part of me feels like it's over me. Crust, specifically. I would be dead if not for his sacrifice."

Emi wiped at her eyes.

A hero built for laughing—crying? It just didn't seem right. Especially not on Emi. He remembered when she'd gotten hurt many years ago, back when their agencies were across the street and they had to team up often. She'd always tried to laugh it off then. Make jokes about it, even when she saw blood.

He didn't remember her ever crying.

"Don't cry." Aizawa's voice faltered. Seemed like paltry advice—not to mention hypocritical—when he felt the tears on his own cheeks.

"And then—when I heard—when I heard you'd lost a leg and an eye…and when I came to the hospital to see you, and you looked so pathetic, but alive, at least." The words poured out of Emi, and her tears came faster. "And then I heard you could barely use your quirk, that Monoma from Class 1-B had to help you—all I could think of was how you and your kids might be hurt or killed or…" Emi wiped at her eyes, but it didn't stop the downpour. "It terrified me. That I may have already seen you for the last time. We lost so many people… I needed to know you were still here."

"I always knew Eri could help me," Aizawa whispered.

"Eri can't reverse death." Emi gestured down the hall to the little girl's bedroom. "In some way, I'm able to help her because I'm able to empathize. Because I was there. We were both scared to lose you. Both of us just want to know that you're okay."

"I'm okay." Aizawa's voice faltered. He had no idea how to comfort someone. He just felt…confused inside. Confused on how to handle everything. When Eri cried, she usually just crawled onto his lap and he could take it from there.

But Eri was his daughter, and Emi was not.

Where did they go from here in this therapy session?

He rubbed his damp eyes and swallowed. A few tears leaked out from beneath his fingers. A few for Oboro, a few for Crust, a few for Midnight—even a few for Emi.

Maybe even a couple for his students and all the stress they'd endured.

He felt a gentle hand on his knee.

He glanced down and saw Emi. She squeezed his leg before she slowly moved forward—inched forward—

Hugged him.

She wrapped her arms around him and brought him close. He blinked, unable to process. Did he shove her off? Did he accept it? Did he return it? What did he do?

She still clung to him.

The confusion inside of him skyrocketed. His brain tried to comprehend the situation, the next move. Like a chessboard—if the opponent moves to one spot, counter with the most logical answer.

But…

He didn't have a logical answer here.

Tears made everything seem more chaotic. He should have never agreed to this, but—he'd never told anyone about all the deaths. He hadn't had time.

Nobody had asked.

"Ugh." Aizawa sighed. He tried to center himself, gather up all his chess pieces before they scattered on the floor.

"I'm glad you're still here," Emi whispered. She nuzzled closer—kind of like a cat.

"Obviously I'm glad you're still here, too. No matter how much your endless flirting annoys me."

Where did Aizawa put his hands? Did he hug her back? No, she wasn't Eri.

Abort. Abort mission. The whole chessboard was on fire.

Aizawa reached for his mug and took a few sips of his tea. At least it gave him a good excuse to have both hands on the cup and not have to worry about putting them on Emi.

Could they have therapy a little farther apart, perhaps?

"It's cold in here," Emi remarked after a moment.

Ah. Good. A problem he could fix. "Get a blanket, then."

Emi sniffled and wiped her eyes as she withdrew. But that didn't last long. She picked a blanket and wrapped it around both their shoulders.

"I thought you said this wasn't a date?" Warmth filled Aizawa's body—and not just from the hot drink and fleece throw.

"It's not. We're just two friends, having a little therapy sesh. But I don't know anything more therapeutic than a warm blanket." She put her hand against his chest.

Oh, no.

The flames were back. His brain struggled to compute the next move.

"Hot tea, a blanket—maybe a movie or something. I know you probably don't do feelings very well for very long, so sometimes it's just good to sit in silence."

"I don't want to watch a comedy movie, if you're trying to get me to laugh."

"Oh, come on. A comedy movie would spoil the moment." Emi pulled out her phone and flipped through a few options. "I'm thinking something more like…a kid's movie. Or something sweet. You know."

Aizawa snorted. "A kid's movie?"

"Don't knock it 'til you try it. Come on. Let's do this one. It was a kid's book that got adapted." Emi cast it to the screen and settled in. "I think you'll really like the message. It's all about how people tame each other and grow to care."

"I'm not really sure that sounds like a good idea right now."

"It sounds like the best idea, if you ask me."

But halfway through the movie—right before an anthropomorphic fox came onto the screen, Emi's head dropped onto Aizawa's shoulder. Her fingers grew slack against her mug, and he gently took it away from her and put it on the table. He had to admit—the blanket was kind of warm around his shoulders. No wonder she'd fallen asleep.

"One runs the risk of weeping a little, if one lets himself be tamed," a character in the movie said.

Aizawa's lips twitched.

Somewhere along the line, had he let himself get tamed?

Oboro. Hizashi. Nemuri. His UA class—every single one of them…well, maybe not Mineta. Aizawa was still pretty sure Hizashi had gotten the kid put in 1-A as a joke.

Aizawa smirked. Still.

Shinso. Eri.

Emi.

He'd been tamed quite a lot…some of it against his will.

But tamed nevertheless.

No wonder he didn't like to think of Emi disappearing, no matter how annoying she could be sometimes.

Maybe…maybe if he thought of it in terms of his binding cloth…

It was like all the people in his life had somehow gotten intertwined in the fabric. He had drawn them closer to him, or they had drawn themselves closer to him. Now, to disentangle himself, it would be painful.

But their ghosts would still linger—the imprints they'd left in the fabric.

Oboro. Nemuri.

He'd never forget their friendship.

Crust.

Aizawa would never forget the sacrifice.

More tears bubbled up in his eyes. He pinched the bridge of his nose together. Emi snored lightly on his shoulder, and when he glanced over, he saw her mouth wide open. So much for her wanting to watch a movie.

He reached over and pulled the covers over her more. She shifted her position, but her eyes didn't open. Right. He suspected this had been a giant ploy all along—either because she wanted him to hear the message of the movie, or because she wanted to hang out with him.

Her arm crossed over his chest. Heat flushed his face, and he reached down, his first instinct to push her off.

But…

He hesitated and instead rubbed the back of his neck. Oh, screw it. She wasn't hurting anything. She wouldn't even remember this when she woke up.

He sighed and propped his feet up on the coffee table and took another sip of his tea.

Might as well allow himself to enjoy the perks of being tamed.

The TV light flickered with suggestions of what to watch next when Emi stirred. Shoot. She'd missed the whole movie, almost. And it was her favorite movie, too.

She yawned and stretched and—

Noticed that she'd reached her arm across Shouta sometime during her nap. Oh, shoot. He'd probably…

She waited.

Listened to Shouta's breathing.

Surreptitiously, she glanced up at her and tried not to move her head at all.

He'd slumped against her once he'd dozed, too.

A smile came over her face, and she snuggled even closer and gave him a gentle squeeze—not enough to wake him up, but enough to let him feel her glee. She could feel the subtle rise and fall of his chest. She wondered how far he'd made it into the movie. Had it helped him at all? She'd picked that movie for its message alone.

She hoped he'd at least learned the value of being tamed, even if it brought tears.

I love you, Shouta.

She held back the words she'd felt deeply in her soul since middle school. It didn't matter what capacity—be it platonic, romantic, anything in between—she loved him, and she always would. Grumpy, cute, little snot.

She smiled up at him and whispered something else instead, though the meaning, deep in her soul, remained the same.

"You've tamed me, Shouta."
And maybe, just maybe, she'd tamed him, as well.