Trigger Warning:

- mention of abuse

- mention of sexual assault

- mention of rape

- threat of sexual assault

- crude language

At the start of my journey in U.A., had someone told me that one-and-a-half years later I would be planning my escape, I would have scoffed at that person's claims.

Yet here I am.

Intentionally ignoring all the ways this could go awry and instead putting my faith into Shouto.

Whenever I tried to flee or sought help from someone else, the results were never good. I had lost hope that I could. But so many experiences have forced me to believe there is a future in store for me. Shigaraki, Kurogiri, All for One, the rest of the League. Aunt Ahearn, Calliope, Thalia, Ourania. Sasaki-san. And Shouto. There are people who care about me. Who think I have more worth than a prostitute.

I glance at Shouto.

He packs my stationery into a suitcase.

At least those who know that I was one.

It has been a little over than a week since that … that incident. But it still marvels me that Shouto has been nothing but endearing toward me. Perhaps I should have expected that when he first deduced that I was a sexual assault victim. At that time, he did not resent me or blame me for my trauma. Same thing this time. It was my greatest fear that he would. So much so that when I saw Miyamoto-san in him, I was convinced that he would want to have absolutely nothing to do with me.

Why did I assume the worst? Especially when I have already witnessed that Shouto is not prejudiced like that? Before he narrowed my trauma to sexual assault, he had figured out that I was being abused like him. He strove to do his best to become someone I could relax with. Maybe because I have already been let down so many times by Hanada-sama that I have come to internalize his verbal abuse. I place a stack of dresses inside another suitcase. He told me my value lied in giving a man sexual pleasure. I believed him. My trousers go in. He told me children orphaned at birth did not deserve to be loved. I believed him. There is room for some shirts. He told me that a girl who cannot walk straight cannot achieve anything in life. I believed him. As much as I despised him, his words stuck with me.

Then I met all these people. They showed me that Hanada-sama was wrong. Just because I could not move ten seconds without support did not mean that aspirations and dreams were out of reach. Being alone did not mean I should be deprived of care and camaraderie. Perhaps the most important was that a girl deserves more power and agency than simply being used for her body. Shouto was the first person to make me realize all that.

Perhaps I should finally tell him the truth about myself. About the prostitution, rape, and scars. Maybe begin with my actual quirk. He has been nothing but honest with me about his trauma. If his past behavior is anything to go by, I do not think he will be repulsed by me. The least he deserves is the same honesty and communication from me.

At the same time, I feel remorseful. He has done so much for me, and yet how am I repaying him? A hero and a villain. The savior and the slaughterer. We were doomed from the very start. But I cannot back out now. Neither can he. So I try my best to be as supportive and understanding as possible. It will never be enough to make up for my sins, though.

My fingers stroke the covers of the manga trilogy he had given me for my fifteenth birthday. The only books I managed to smuggle out of the old room before shifting here. They are my treasures, but looking at them only amplifies the guilt. I set them inside the same suitcase.

The rest of the packing proceeds this way. Him thinking about something I do not know; me wallowing in my own regret. Neither of us says a word as we move back and forth between the bathroom, closet, and bedroom. By the time we finish, the room is stripped almost bare, and the seven luggage cases are overpacked.

Finally, he dusts off his hands as if to say a job well done. "Dad parked the car past the ice rink," he describes. "That's our getaway. We just have to get the luggage all the way there, stuff it into the trunk, and get back."

I laugh lightly. "Easier said than done." And I open the glass doors that lead to the private balcony. It is nearly April; there is no ice. But I know exactly what Shouto is referring to by 'ice rink.' I was the one who created that pseudonym, after all. The lake appears in the corner of the balcony view. It is surrounded by a forest and beyond that is where our transportation is parked. It will easily be a forty-minute walk to and fro.

Fortunately, we have time.

Together, we roll the suitcases toward the edge, and I levitate them one by one. Three stories down into the rose garden directly below. We are lucky that this wing of the manor is in the opposite direction of the party. So no one is here to observe our rendezvous.

"It would be quicker if we both went to the vehicle, wouldn't it?" I ask with trepidation.

"Are you sure?" he returns. "What about your arthritis?"

I shrug. "The flare is bound to happen sooner or later. So while I can still move, I would like to assist you." Holding out a hand, I wait for him to accept it. "I'm going to use my air ability to help us descend. Is that all right with you?"

"That's fine. I would suggest using my flames to get us down, but that's probably not the best idea in a place surrounded with plants and shrubs." He intertwines his fingers with mine.

Slowly, I concentrate on lifting us both into the air. Imagining that we are weightless, nothing more than a feather drifting in a breeze. Our feet hover above the balcony. I try to raise us higher. Above the railing. My toe hits the parapet. My focus breaks. Midair we begin to topple over. We almost hit the hard rock of the balcony badly when Shouto regains his balance first and catches me. His arms slip around my waist, steadying me from the fall. Then he pulls me close to him. "Try again," he says. His tone is nothing but encouraging.

So I do. I try to ignore the proximity between us. How little space there is between our bodies, or how ticklish his warm breath is against my ear. But attempting to force myself to ignore only makes me more aware. So instead of fighting it, I embrace it. Letting the blood rush up my cheeks out of love this time rather than coyness. It seems to work, I think. Levitating both of us becomes a task much easier.

Once we float about half a meter above the safety of the balcony, I cross my wrists behind Shouto's nape and lean forward just enough to peer past him. If we are going to descend safely, I need proper vantage of what lies below me and ahead of me. Slowly, we maneuver away from the balcony and down to the maze.

When our feet touch solid dirt, Shouto murmurs, "You did great, Selene. Give yourself more credit."

My lips curl up at the praise. I transported safely amongst the hedges and bushes where the suitcases are in view. Our focus should be on them, but with the way Shouto stares at me as though I am the only living thing in the world … well, I am a selfish person. I want this moment to last a little longer. His gaze drops to my lips. Mine drops to his.

My foot snaps a fallen twig on the ground.

The spell breaks.

We separate, both equally flustered at our behavior. Without looking at each other, we make our way toward the seven heavy boxes, and I use my wind powers to lift them into the air again. For the first time, we properly look at our surroundings.

A labyrinth of roses. Since it is early April, the flowers are still just small buds. But these flowers are grown on bushes about four times the normal size. Careful cultivation from garden quirk users. It seems like a juxtaposition when compared to the manor. Beautiful but something that should not be here. Even Shouto notices it.

"What's a maze doing here?" he asks, scanning left and right. "It contrasts with the zen garden at the main gates and the lake behind."

I take the lead. I know my way around this maze, and that is part of the answer to his question. "Do you remember last April? When I disappeared for a few days because I had been kept hostage on a ship?" He nods, saying that I had oh so smartly decided to take a walk in the middle of the night in the manor gardens. His voice comes out a little strained. As though the memories still leave a bitter tang on his tongue. It's only fair. That story was a cover-up I made to conceal my incarceration in London and first encounter with Aunt Ahearn. "After that incident, Hanada-sama came up with an innovative strategy. A method of security while also a source of entertainment for guests. While he was not particularly concerned with what happened to me, he became afraid that his sons might be kidnapped the same way. So he hired a team of florists and architects to design this maze. With only one entrance and one exit but so many dead ends, the intention was that an intruder would get lost, buying enough time for the police to get here. Besides Hanada-sama, I am the only one who knows the route."

The path cuts into a fork. I take the left path. Shouto follows me, not satisfied with my response. "But why didn't he just install security cameras and number code locks like he did in January? Building all this must have been expensive."

Unfortunately, I have the answer to that question as well. "Because his favorite children were still alive back then," I remind him. "One missing but three safe. He thought that was a good deal and implemented a subtle manner to protect his boys. Of course, this labyrinth could hardly be called subtle. And now that I am the only one left, he fortified his security measures tenfold."

"Aren't there cameras hidden inside the leaves?"

"There are. But they are suspiciously off tonight." I know that because when I summon electricity powers to sense the current, nothing manifests.

Shouto halts immediately. I hear it. I turn around, his face is visibly pale. "I don't like the sound of that. Seems like a trap."

I agree, "It does. However, the lake is too far away, and I cannot carry us all the way there without dropping us partway. This is the second-fastest route, and we do not have many options. Let's just hope that whatever trap lies in wait, we do not encounter it."

All of a sudden, Shouto grabs my wrist and tugs me toward him. He crouches to hold my thighs and lift me. I raise myself up to cross my arms around his shoulders. Cane clenched between both palms. It is not a bridal carry, but sort of how a parent might carry a child. Of course, our relationship is very different from that and so are the emotions wafting on rose fragrances. "Then let's spend as little time here as possible. You tell me where to go and keep those suitcases aloft. I'll run."

"A-All right. G-g-go right."

The remainder of the maze passes like this. I navigate the turns; Shouto gets us past. Yet I cannot help the prick of foreboding that nags at me like a thorn. Of all the times, it had to be tonight when security was lax in the garden. Appears counterintuitive. Even though this area is closed off to guests for the party, I cannot shake off the feeling that we are not alone. The occasional caw of a crow, chirping of a cricket, and squeak of a rat. All the nocturnal animals are coming alive, but that is not it.

Amongst all these tall walls of thorns and pointed leaves, I am reminded of the rose labyrinth in Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. She was running away from the Queen of Hearts by following the labyrinth. A little distance into the twisted forest, she stumbled onto three card soldiers painting white roses red. Alice talked to them, tried to blend in by performing the same task as the soldiers, when an entire deck of cards scrambled into the maze. They declared the Queen of Hearts was coming.

What happened afterward … the details are fuzzy. It has been years since I last read the book. I used to wonder how Alice must have felt, trapped in a realm of madness, seeking escape into the world of safety. Now I am no different from Alice. What does that make Shouto? Alice was alone when she fled. I suppose I am luckier that I have company. Then I look at the sky. Dark. Moonless. Cloudy. At least Alice got the chance to escape in the day.

Stop that, Selene.

I should not complain. Everything has proceeded smoothly so far. I should hope that it remains that way.

So when we finally leave the maze but Shouto insists on carrying me all the way to the car, I do not resist. Not to mention, the familiar tingles of an arthritic flare are manifesting in my fingers and toes. It will not be long until they course through my entire body.

The vehicle is a red five-seater SUV. Shouto has a spare key. He opens the trunk and together, we guide the boxes inside. As soon as one gets situated, I release my hold on it, letting gravity drop it to the bottom. In less than a minute, all the suitcases are securely inside and the car is locked. He lifts me once more and dashes back through the forest.

This time, when we enter the maze, our fortune runs out. Instantly, sounds other than nocturnal animals moving reaches our ears.

Hushed voices echo from a few hedges beyond our position.

"We're here to finish what remained incomplete at U.A.," one voice says. I recognize the owner. Agawa-san. Shouto sees the panic on my face. I mime out the name. His eyes widen.

Another person speaks this time. Kimura-san. "Do you want to make another video of her?"

Finally, their leader provides his input. The hooligan who guides these evil minions. My new source of hatred. Miyamoto-san affirms that is exactly what he wants. "She was on her period that time, so I couldn't fuck her. It should have ended by now. Her dad might have smuggled us all the way here, but I won't pass up the chance to have more blackmail over him and his whore of a daughter."

I glance at Shouto out of the corner of my eye. Despite my confidence in him, I am afraid of how he will react, hearing such a crass insult about me. He responds by moving us as far away as possible from the gang of assaulters as quietly as possible. His speed increases threefold from earlier. More words are exchanged back there, but because of the growing distance Shouto puts between us and them, I must amplify my hearing.

The remaining two members of the vicious party - Nakano-san and Kurosawa-san - snicker at the prospect of inflicting further harm on me. The former seeks revenge for vomiting on her; the latter swears vengeance for her broken nose. I endeavor to have you all withering in prison. My deal sounds much better, no? All of them revel in the knowledge that they have Hanada-sama's help to torture me. It is for them that the cameras are switched off.

"She returned tonight," Miyamoto-san says. "Now is the best opportunity we'll get at putting her in her place."

Those words incite a snowstorm of rage deep inside me. They are acting so confidently because they have Hanada-sama's support. Their plan of backstabbing him with blackmail videos is only emboldening them further. During that incident in the forest, they were convinced I would not report to the police precisely because of those two reasons. Little they do know I have defied their expectations. That and overhearing their discussion are my only trump cards. Shouto takes a turn. Only one trip and he has already memorized the route. Of course. How can I neglect him? He will never condone the idea of them being in the vicinity near me, let alone touch me.

I hope the five of them are foolish enough to reveal exactly when they plan to initiate their strike. Unfortunately, we reach the area we descended. Beyond the range of my amplified hearing. Above us is the balcony. Without any prompting, I use the last reserves of my energy to levitate us back to the bedroom. Shouto wastes no time to set me down on the bed and check my temperature.

"You're burning up!" he exclaims after removing his hand from my forehead. "Lie down!"

I brush off his hands when he gently presses my shoulder to guide me onto my back. "N-Not the bed," I rasp in between bouts of pain. "Not after … after what we h-heard." Then I kick off my shoes before curling my feet close to myself.

Shouto sits on the edge. "Rest is the best treatment for an arthritic flare, Selene. I know that you're uncomfortable, but I'm right here. Everything is fine."

I shake my head. It is not that I do not trust him. Rather, it is quite the opposite. But I have very horrible memories associated with men's malicious intent and a mattress. "Please … anywhere but the bed," I plead.

His relent is visible. The way his shoulders slump and the huff that leaves his mouth. "Okay. I'm going to draw up a hot foot bath instead. There was a nearly empty jar of sea salt in one of the sink drawers. Stay right here until I come get you."

"As if I can move a muscle in my present state," I scoff. "Still, thank you, Shouto."

"Tell me that when we get out of this place for good."

From the bathroom, the sounds of rushing water and salt crashing to the bottom of the bathtub echo into the bedroom. Some time later, Shouto returns and picks me up. Carefully, he seats me on the rim of the tub, orienting my feet into the water. The effect is instantaneous. The heat from the water seeps into my skin, muscles, bones. Instinctively, I flex my toes, letting the water lap between the digits. I fold the hem of my gown so that it does not get wet. Shouto joins me, sitting so that his body are facing away from the tub. I lean my head against his shoulder. He tilts his just enough to rest on top of mine.

"How are you feeling now?"

I sigh, "Much better. You told me to wait, but I have to express my gratitude. Really, thanks for listening to my irritating request."

"Hey! It wasn't irritating. I understand why you said that. And it's my responsibility to make you feel safe."

His physical and metaphorical warmth is an infinitely more powerful balm than the hot bath. Without looking behind me, I search for his hand with my free one. When I do, I do not hesitate in linking my fingers with his. "I'm afraid, Shouto. You're here. Your father's here. The abuse will end tonight. So there is no reason I should be scared, right?" With the way Shouto's grasp on my hand tightens slightly, I can tell that he is listening. "But I am. Very, very much."

He strokes the back of my hand, drawing circles. "Actually, I would have been surprised if you were not frightened." That stuns me. My silence is an encouragement for him to elaborate. "I'll admit, when we overheard Miyamoto and his goons talking about harming you, a huge part of me wanted to step in right then and there. To give them a piece of my mind. After all, I'm an aspiring Pro-Hero who was still enraged at what had happened to you in the forest." Then Shouto presses a kid to the top of my head. "Yet for the exact same reasons, I had to withdraw. You were the priority. Getting you to safety was the most important duty at the time. Sure, if we stayed there longer, we could have learned their entire plan. Probaby even recorded their discussion as evidence. At the same time, the risk was too great. Like you said, the cameras were suspiciously turned off, and now we know it was for them. That's when I decided I just had to get you out of there."

I find myself smiling more brightly. "I suppose another thanks is in order."

"God, Selene. You overapologize and you overthank."

"I'm a polite person, Shouto."

"There's nothing wrong with being courteous. But yeah, we still have to work on your exaggerated tendencies. By the way, how long do we have until you have to go return to the party?"

"A little more than half an hour, I think."

"Then let's make the most out of it."