For all our effort invested in the Festival, all U.A. students received two days off school, not counting the celebration party that will occur on the school grounds tonight.
I make use of my first day to visit my mom.
"Huh? The-the hospital?" Fuyumi asks, justifiably shocked.
As I wear my shoes, she worries.
"What's this all of a sudden? Are you sure it's okay if you don't tell Dad, Shouto?"
"Yep," I answer.
"Why have you decided to go meet Mom now, after so long?" she calls out after me.
I don't have it in me to answer that question verbally. It was my very existence that drove her to her breaking point, so I didn't go see her. Mom is definitely still being caged up, by me, by Dad. So in order to use this body and give it my all ... to once again aim to be a hero ... I need to meet her again and talk about ... so many things.
My hand trembles as it hovers above the handle to Room 315. The other tightens around the stems of the autumn blue bellflower bouquet. I inhale and exhale deeply. You can do this, Shouto. I can do this. There's a chance, however big or small, that she won't shatter.
And she does shatter. She shatters in a different way.
I push the door open. My mom is sitting by the window, gazing outside, holding a picture in her hand. She turns her head at the noise of the door, and for the first time in years I see her face.
It's just like how I remember it. The white half of my hair, my grey eye are identical to her, only in color. Her medium-length straight hair is unbounded. Her eyes are somehow still innocent. Those same eyes well up with tears when she sees me. "Sh-Shouto?" she asks hesitantly.
"Hi Mom," I say, just as tentatively, my eyes welling up, too. Her tears pour forth, and her arms instinctively rise to touch me, but she pulls back after reconsideration. "Can I come in?"
She nods her head, without hesitation. I enter slowly, taking in the room. It's small, with a desk along one side and a single mattress bed on the other. There's little decor, but it doesn't feel sterile. She gets up from her stool, offering it to me, but I beckon her to sit back. I pull up the desk chair instead and directly face her. I remember the bouquet in my hand. "I brought your favorite flowers with me. At least, I think they're still your favorite."
"They are," she affirms with a gentle smile.
"I'll set them on the table for now."
The next moments are filled with awkward silence. Both of us are silently crying, and neither one of knows what to say, what to do. My own thoughts are roiling. Coming here was easier said than done. What do I do now? Years worth of trauma can't be discussed just like that. Mom must be having similar thoughts.
"How is school? I heard you attend U.A." Mom asks, the first to break the silence.
We both find a hook to attach onto, and we take it.
"It's okay. Despite being a prestigious hero academy, it's not too different from primary school. Crowded hallways, average cafeteria meals, and lots of homework. How are you, Mom?" I respond.
Hearing me call her 'Mom' makes her look happier. "I'm doing fine. The hallways are not so noisy, and the food is decent. I can eat whenever I like. Every Friday night, the staff set up a movie for the residents in the conference room. Other nights there are interactive activities. I attend occasionally. But do you have fun? Have you made any friends?"
"Yeah, I guess. There is a girl whom I have befriended. She gives good company and makes school not so dull," I answer. But as an afterthought, I say, "But Fuyumi and Natsuo have probably already told you this when they came to visit."
"Actually, they didn't. This is the first I'm hearing of this. Maybe they thought this was something personal to you, so only you should bring it up ... that is, if you would come." That last part comes out with a tinge of melancholy.
And now we can't push it any longer. We've been skirting around the topic long enough. "I didn't know if I could. If I should ... After Dad sent you here, I was afraid that another episode would happen again if I showed you my face ... I remember blaming Dad for it, but I felt more responsible. I was ashamed of myself, so I thought the least I could do was stay away."
She winces and cries harder. "Sh-Shouto, the fault was mine. I-I lost my composure and hurt you. I never wanted to, I promise. When I was admitted here, I wanted nothing more than to see you. To hug you and kiss you and lavish you with adorations and apologies." She stretches her arms out and shows me the picture. It's from when I was five. Dad was out for work and my siblings were at school, so Mom and I went to the local fair. We rode the carousel, Ferris wheel, and, on my insistence, a few roller coasters. We ate funnel cakes, cotton candy, popcorn, and plenty of other junk food. This picture was taken at the photo booth, where I made a silly face and Mom laughed at my expression. I could count all the happy memories from my childhood on one hand, and that memory would be the happiest of them all. I flinch at the reminder and choke on a sob. "I'm so sorry, Shouto. I couldn't be a good mother to you. I love you, my child. Always have and always will."
Hanada-chan was right. She was right all along.
I shatter completely. I slip from the chair and fall to the floor. Sobbing, I rock myself back and forth. I missed so much. So much from our lives had been deprived because of our circumstances. My mother drops to my level and holds out a tissue box. She's still afraid to touch me, but even this gesture is enough for me. It's not everything, but it's something. I take a bunch of tissues and rapidly wipe my tears. I notice that her tears haven't stopped, so I push the box toward her. "You should take some, too."
Mom smiles weakly before taking two tissues and dabbing her tears with it. Once we've collected ourselves as much as we can, we get up and take our seats again.
"Did you watch the Sports Festival on television?" I ask out of the blue.
She seems surprised but goes along. "I did. I was so proud of your achievements. In every event, you did phenomenal."
"Do you remember seeing a girl with raven hair and flowers adorned throughout? A girl with a cane and silver eyes?"
"Yes. How can I forget her? You fought with her for one of the one-on-one battles. She made those dazzling spectacles of roses and rainbows. Her physical appearance was just as beautiful."
"That's my friend. Her name is Hanada Selene, and she encouraged me to meet you."
Mom is quiet for a long time. She just stares at me with wide eyes. Then she beams. Literally beams. "I'll have to thank her if I see her. But no matter how many times I thank her, it won't be enough. Because of her, we have seen each other again. I can't tell you how happy I am, Shouto. For myself, for you. Especially for you. You have a wonderful friend, and that makes me glad."
"Thanks, Mom," I whisper, flustered and elated simultaneously.
Whatever doors of uncertainty were shut between us, some have opened. Our conversation becomes less wary, less guarded. We catch up: my school years, her stay at the hospital, my annoyances with my siblings, her favorite friendly nurse. She asks more about Hanada-chan, and I reveal what I know about her, except for her trauma and suicide attempts. Hours pass by like this - day turns into night - but then my alarm rings.
Shoot! The celebration party!
I rise from the chair. "Sorry, Mom. I have to go now. The school is holding an after-party for all students who participated in the Sports Festival. Dad wanted me to go, and I want to, too, but not for his sake. My friend will be there."
She gets up as well. "Then I won't keep you waiting. When you see her, could you convey to her my gratitude?"
"Sure," I tell her. After a moment, I bring up a question that has been bothering me the entire time. "Can I visit again?"
That stunning beam returns. "Of course, my child. I would love nothing more than to see you again and again. If you'll accept it, then I would like to make a better effort to be your mother."
"I'll do my best to come visit whenever I can. When I can't, I'll write letters to you."
"I'll write to you, too."
We depart tearfully.
I pull the door open, but just as I'm about to step out, I glance back.
My mom unties the ribbon from the bouquet and puts the bellflowers in a pitcher of water.
When I get home and look in the mirror, I notice the beam that has never left my face.
Note: I have copied some dialogue from one of the English-translated versions of the manga. The link to the chapter is here: .online/manga/boku-no-hero-academia-chapter-44/