Trigger Warning:

- talk about trauma

God, I wish I was anywhere but here.

Specifically, I wish I were in the gazebo with Selene, embracing her.

But responsibilities cannot be avoided.

Endeavor has been discharged from the hospital after almost a month, and I am fulfilling my obligation as a son to welcome him home. That last word is enough to make me scoff.

So when the subject of my so-called obligation arrives at the threshold of the dining room, my features are already schooled into nonchalance. I won't give him the satisfaction of knowing how much his battle affected me. Fuyumi praises Dad for his effort, an obvious attempt to ease the tense atmosphere. I swear, it's so tangible that it could be sliced with a knife. When Sis says my name, I take the opposite cue. "That's … a nasty scar you've got there," I remark while slurping cold soba. It really is. A patchwork of red and pink scar tissue running from his forehead, around his left eye, and down to his chin. I take another audible slurp as I observe him for his reaction. Natsuo copies me, too. And Fuyumi chastises us to behave ourselves. We don't want to, though. He isn't worth it. The fact that Dad can hear the scolding only makes our resolve stronger.

All of a sudden, Natsuo rises. "Sorry, Sis," he says. "I just can't do this." I watch his figure cross the room and step over the threshold when Endeavor stops him, telling him to say what is on his mind. That is when Natsuo snaps. All that pent-up rage inside him explodes like magma from a volcano. He seethes, "That's rich, coming from the guy who wouldn't even look me in the eye for all these years. You've got some nerve, you know that? It's funny, I had no idea soba was Shouto's favorite food until today. You took special care to never let us, your 'failures' into his life, after all." Instantly, I am reminded of an old memory where I watched my siblings play with a ball, wanting to join them, but Dad dragged me away for training. Bro continues, "For whatever reason, Mom and Sis both seem to have no problem with forgiving you. But as far as I am concerned, that crazy bastard we knew all too well is still going strong! They are acting like you've changed, but you haven't changed a bit!

"You completely neglected us and left us to listen to Mom screaming and Shouto crying. Not to mention what happened to Big Bro Touya … You going off and beating up some strong villain doesn't make all that disappear, dammit!" A jolt passes through me when Natsuo slams his fist against the doorframe. "And here you are, deciding now's the time to have a change of heart! You just one-sidedly try to come back into our lives! IT MAKES ME SICK! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW ANY OF US FEEL?"

Dad takes the rebuke with surprising ease. Very calmly, he says, "From now on, I'm going to face my past and atone for everything I've done." The placation falls on deaf ears, though. Bro makes a sarcastic remark and thanks Fuyumi angrily before stomping away.

Meanwhile, Sis laments the entire situation. She grabs my arm holding the soba bowl and shakes vigorously, complaining how she thought the Todorokis could be a normal family because I got into U.A. and reached out to Mom, Dad started interacting with his other children, and Mom grew happier. She was hopeful.

"I've never seen Natsuo get that emotional before," I comment after I take another slurp. Suddenly, the noise from the TV catches our attention. The battle between Endeavor and the noumu is still the hottest topic trending online. Every time a criticism from the public is broadcasted, the footage of the boy who rooted for Endeavor is displayed with positive feedback from the other half of the public. Natsuo made his opinion clear. Fuyumi expressed her feelings. Now it's my turn. I put aside my petulant behavior and recall what Selene told me. That taking into account all the years of trauma, it was my choice whether to give Dad a chance at redemption. Dad and Endeavor are the same person. I know that now; I just have to voice it to materialize it. Never breaking my gaze from the TV screen, I open my mouth to speak. "Endeavor … the hero. He's amazing. He's remarkable. But pretty much everything Natsuo said was right on the money, I think. I still haven't forgiven you for how you tormented Mom. That's why … I want to see what kind of dad you'll become from here on out." I look away from the TV and envision the embodiment of moonlight. I continue, "One small inspiration really can completely change a person. I know that better than anyone."

There. I chose the third option: give him an opportunity and leave it up to him to take it or not. The same method I used with Selene a long time ago. She put in the effort to make amends with me. I hope Dad is willing to do the same. If he can prove to be a better person, then I'll consider forgiveness.

If not … then that's for later to think about.

Speaking of later, the first thing I do when I return to the dormitory is look for my sweetheart. Just her company will get my mind off these things.

So when she opens the door to her room, the first thing I ask is, "If you don't mind, can I hug you?"

Instead, she smiles and initiates the embrace first. Sparing a second to shut the door behind us, I return the gesture fiercely. The fragrance of her sandalwood perfume becomes the only thing I can smell. The cotton of her gown is all I can touch. A myriad of red, orange, yellow, and maroon hues meet my eyes before I shut them. Marigolds, I recognize. This. I could get used to this every day. Just knowing that she's safe, that she's near, and I can reach her.

Then she retracts just a bit to kiss my scar. A small knowing smirk tugs at the corner of her lips. "I assume correctly that the meeting did not go as well as you hoped. Would you like to talk about it?" I shake my head no. "Then would you like to meet my family from England?"

Huh? This is the first time I'm hearing about this.

Selene tells me that she is in contact with a single mother of three daughters. The mother is a police officer with whom she struck a mutual deal. Selene helped her, and she helped Selene. Since then, they have been keeping in touch. They share an adoptive aunt-niece relationship, and like in a healthy relationship, they communicate about their problems and sort it out. A pseudo-therapist, essentially. And today, she has scheduled an online meeting with them.

"What was the deal?" I ask her. "And when did you make the deal?"

An indecipherable look crosses her face. Then, "That's confidential information. Legal matters is all I can say," she replies with the zip movement across her lips. My gut tells me that she's hiding more, but her generosity is enough to make me ignore the feeling. Selene offers again if I want to talk to them. I'm doubtful, though. After the conversation I had with Dad, I am reluctant about meeting with another family. But if Selene talks well of them … given her own dysfunctional family dynamics … I suppose it wouldn't hurt.

"Sure. I'll talk."

Her eyes light up and cheeks tinge baby pink. "Due to the time difference, I'll video call them after ten minutes. But … you should know that I've told them about you. Good things, of course! I just don't want you to feel confused during introductions if they say something."

It is my turn to smirk. A mischievous one. One that gives no warning to my arms clutching her waist and lifting her feet off the floor. Selene gasps in surprise as I carry her to her bed. Briefly removing a hand to push aside the mosquito net, I hold her again as I sit on the edge of the bed and pull her into my lap. Her body is angled perpendicular to mine. It is the perfect angle to speak in her ear. As I slip a finger beneath her choker and unhook it, I whisper, "What things did you tell them about me?"

Her voice trembles shyly. "Th-th-that you are attentive. Considerate. Compassionate. Understanding. Intelligent. Quick-witted. Faithful. Dedicated. Honest and trustworthy." This is too good of an opportunity to pass. With each praise, I nuzzle her neck and press a kiss to her pulse. She continues, visibly affected, "Y-y-you are steadfast in your ambitions. Y-yet you have a strong conscience. I told them that you are an amazing person, Shouto. You are the greatest best friend I could ask for."

I freeze at the compliment. That last statement echoes in my head. She basically said that I was enough. Perfect as I was, with all my strengths and flaws. After she kissed my scar that night, this is the second time that she has told me that. But it is now that it really sinks in. Since childhood, Dad tried to turn me into his carbon copy. When I failed to become just that, he belittled me. Taunted and scolded me for not meeting his expectations. Demeaned my perception of myself. Subconsciously, I must have started to believe it, too. So while I denied him, a part of me didn't feel worthy to become a hero. The consequences of those emotions … Selene already knows.

And yet, throughout the ordeal, Selene accepted me when I was at my worst and when I was at my best. Like the constant moon. It changes phases, appears and disappears, but always stays by the Earth's side.

"Did I say something wrong?" Her question snaps me back into reality. I've been quiet for too long. And I know that when I do that, she begins to overthink and overanalyze everything she has said. She bunches the hem of her day dress in her gloved fists. Instead of responding, I pry her fingers from the fabric. "I-I'm sorry if I offended you," she stammers again.

That is when I pull her hands to my mouth, which brings her gaze to meet mine. Good. She needs to see the conviction. As I brush my lips against her fingertips, I never break eye contact. Her breath stills momentarily. Her heart does the opposite. "You should know," I say as I move to her knuckles, "Whenever I am silent after you speak, it isn't because I'm offended. In fact, not once have you offended me during these instances. Instead, you awed me. Every. Single. Time." I punctuate that statement with three deep, tender kisses to her palms. "You always said the things that I didn't even know I needed to hear. Selene, you have no idea just how amazing you are." If you can value me when I valued myself the least, why cannot I do the same for you? Then I repeat the same sentence to her: "You are the greatest best friend I could ask for, too." Selene … your devotion … it is a gift I do not deserve. But it is one I will protect until my dying breath.

She looks away and stutters to refute. However, I will not hear any argument on this matter. I open my mouth to speak again when she changes the subject. "I should set up the video call now." She climbs out of my grasp before I can protest. I watch her figure retreat to her computer and realize an important parallel between us. We were grieving our pasts misguidedly. Me with my vendetta, Selene with her apologies. I chose fire, she chose water. The consequence in both cases was the same. We began to despise ourselves.

There is one crucial step to cover before I profess my love to you: we must love ourselves first. That is easier said than done, though. Just ourselves is the best example. Words have the power to hurt and heal. In order to love myself, I have to know that I mean something to someone else. That someone else has to encourage me, motivate me, adore me. If that person loves me, then perhaps I can respect myself. It isn't so different for Selene, either. For her, it is touch that is a double-edged sword. If someone can give her little kisses on the forehead, cradle her hands like treasure, and hug her in times of joy and sadness, she could cherish herself, too.

Selene has just started talking. Her voice breaks me from my reverie. I hear the voice of four females talking all at once in English. Although I cannot decipher half the words being exchanged, I can recognize the tone of chastisement anywhere. Never did I think I would hear Selene being rebuked. It would be cute if only she weren't apologizing profusely. Quietly, I rise from the bed and slip out of the mosquito net. Neither Selene nor the women can see me from this angle.

The reproaches grow louder. I can make out the gist of the conversation now.

"Seventeen missed calls! That is how many times I tried to contact you!" one lady shrieks.

Selene lifts her palms in an attempt to placate. The effect rebounds.

A voice of a little girl pipes in. "I wanted to show you my solar system model. But I can't because it was a school project, and I already turned it in."

"I'm sorry. Really sorry. Please give me-"

"Did you see the recording of the Hamlet play my school did? Of course not! You didn't even check your email!" a second girl accuses. She seems a little older than the little girl.

"Again. I apologize. Wait. How did you know I didn't read my emails?"

The fourth person interrupts. Judging by her voice, she is around my and Selene's age. "Forget about all of that! I needed your help to pick out a cute dress, accessories, and makeup for my date. You weren't there!" Selene replies that the girl is already knowledgeable in the field of beauty, so her help was not needed. That makes the girl angrier. "Don't you know? Second opinions are always important! Especially in fashion!"

The lady from before reprimands her again. "Just what were you doing for four weeks that you could not be bothered to respond to any of our calls?" The tone is so menacing, it wouldn't be unbelievable if the woman crossed through the computer screen and entered Selene's room, sandals in both hands. Even Selene looks terrified.

That is enough for me to intervene.

Crossing the room in strides, I spin Selene's chair around. Before she can comprehend what is happening, I pull her out of the chair and embrace her tightly. "She was busy for four weeks because of me," I answer coldly. Selene grips the hem of my yukata and stares at me with utter confusion. But my attention is on the four women who scared her. "Had all of you withheld your complaints for two seconds, then she could have explained why she didn't call. But I'm guessing that none of you care to know the truth." My hidden threat works its charm. I guide Selene back to her seat. My tone is completely different now. "Go ahead," I tell her sweetly. However, she doesn't. Her face is the same shade of red as my flames. It reaches all the way to her pointed ears. Her hands clench her dress. Her breathing ceases all together. I shake her a bit and call out her name. "Hey! Are you okay? Was I too forward?"

"N-n-no! It's fine! I'm fine! I think. The truth. Right." In a desperate attempt to compose herself, she takes a deep breath and looks right at the ladies. Ten seconds of silence pass. The attempt fails. She buries her inflamed face in her palms. "Th-th-this is Todoroki Shouto. R-remember? My best friend." Their heads whip in my direction as soon as I am introduced. "Shouto, this lady is Aunt Aline Ahearn. H-h-her oldest is Calliope, middle is Thalia, and youngest is Ourania." For the first time, I really look at them. All of them have caramel hair and skin. The mother has hazel eyes with more brown coloring, the two older daughters have hazel eyes with more green tints, and the youngest has emerald green eyes. I have to admit: they're all pretty. Just that each one has a unique beauty.

The oldest one - Calliope, I recall - squints at me and smirks. "Best friend? Right."

If embarrassment could kill, Selene would be nothing but ash right now. She almost slips to the floor. "He said he would like to talk to you! And you were curious about him as well!" It's such an obvious endeavor at changing the subject.

Calliope's grin widens. My concern grows. "So tell me, Selene's best friend, do you hug all your friends that passionately?"

"Or because she's a girl that you are more touchy-touchy with her?" Ourania adds.

Thalia comments, "That would have been sexual harassment if Selene pushed you away. Though it might have been an illusion from my vantage, didn't she actually pull you closer?"

All three girls are enjoying this. I am even starting to feel self-conscious. Selene gets up and exclaims, "I forgot to water the plants!" And she trips on her cane as she stumbles to the bathroom. The door shuts behind her. Meanwhile, the girls laugh boisterously. Even their mom snickers with them.

"Thalia, did you record that?" Calliope asks.

"You bet I did!" replies Thalia.

Ourania squeals, "Lemme see! I wanna see!"

I don't know what to do. Torn between checking if Selene is all right and talking to these girls, I just stand there. The girls enjoy my conflict immensely. Selene makes the choice for me. She says that her plants are wilting, which I believe is code for "please-give-me-ten-eternities-to-recover-from-this-embarassment." Because there are no plants in her bathroom. Still, she runs the sink water on full blast.

Hoping that I understood the insinuation correctly, I occupy the seat and face the screen. "Good morning? Afternoon? How are you? Well, like I said, I was keeping Selene busy. We are partners for a writing-drawing competition, and this month, the Top Twenty finalists had to submit their piece. Because we qualified, the competition was tough. Collaborating together and coming up with a prompt took a lot of time." That is only half the truth. The other half is that during our breaks, we showered affections upon one another. They don't need to know that. Especially after my reckless display.

However, I underestimate them. Ahearn-san raises an eyebrow, as if saying, "That's all?" When I don't respond, she doesn't push it. Instead, she understands my silence and changes the topic. "Selene speaks well of you. Has she ever mentioned us to you?"

"Twenty minutes ago she did."

A unanimous scoff passes amongst the family. "That secretive, conniving child! How dare she! Just what did she tell you?" So I narrate the tale. When I ask Mrs. Ahearn what the deal was, a dark look crosses all their faces, and they say the same thing that Selene did: sensitive information. "I'm sure you've encountered her taciturn side. It can be very frustrating at times, so I understand if you feel the same right now about us. But you didn't come here to talk about her, did you? There's something else bothering you. I'll try my best to help."

I guess police officers' intuition is stronger than I give credit for. Yet I cannot take her up on the offer because she is still a stranger to me. Rather than directly receiving guidance, I should go about it roundabout. Ahearn-san will catch on, but she will not be able to push me out of my comfort zone. So I lie. "Actually, I want to talk about Selene because she is just as enigmatic today as the day she was when I first met her. I know that she has suffered a lot and since she doesn't have a proper mother or father figure, she comes to you for parental comfort. She approaches me, too … but the thing is, I can't really help her without knowing what is the cause for her pain. Could you give any hint as to how I can help her?"

Ahearn-san, Calliope, and Thalia's mouths crease into a frown. The reserved mood they had earlier shifts to solemnity. Ourania opens her mouth to say something, but Ahearn-san instructs her to leave and play with her dolls. She even dismisses her other daughters, which raises my suspicions further. Finally, she speaks. "I don't want to tell you something you already know. So tell me what you know about Selene first."

I do. Her arthritis, agoraphobia, underlying haphephobia, apology complex, panic attacks, and hesitancy to step out of her comfort zone because of ongoing abuse. I conclude with, "It's ironic. The girl who nicknamed herself Lucifer does the one thing that requires the greatest sacrifice of pride: apologize."

"Yes," Ahearn-san agrees. "Selene is indeed full of contradictions. She can be benevolent one moment and vicious the next. Lamenting yet vengeful. Warm-hearted and then cold. Brilliant in tactics and strategy but naive in the matters of the heart. You appear much like her in that respect. Maybe that is why you are so close.

"But I digress. The root of these problems is her family, as I am sure you have guessed. Not just her father; her brothers, too. I cannot divulge the truth of why she is the way she is, but I will tell you this: if you truly wish to help her heal, then never force yourself on her. Physically, verbally, emotionally, and in any form of assault. Since the implementation of the dormitory system, her mistreatment has limited drastically yet remains. Selene often video called me late at night in your time zone because of nightmares. She never discusses the details because she is afraid of the consequences. The fact that she doesn't tell you means that she does not want to think poorly of her if you learn the truth, not that she doesn't trust you."

Reflexively, I lean back to process all of that. Not once did I think that her adoptive brothers would be in on the abuse, too. Why did I think that just like how Natsuo and I collectively despised Dad, Selene's siblings would be the same? Now that I think about it, she never mentioned them in our conversations. As though she wanted to deny their existence in her life. I can't even begin to fathom the horrific things she must have endured by their hands. Hands … hands …

Perhaps I am pushing my luck. Perhaps I am making assumptions. Perhaps I should ask Selene herself. Yet my instinct screams at me that the answer is likely not no. That scares me the most. If my suspicions are true, then so many of her behaviors could be explained. It would explain why she is afraid that my perception of her will change upon knowing the reality. Simply voicing my doubt could change our relationship forever. I cannot bear for that to happen. I do not know to whom I am saying this to, but the words leave my mouth anyway: "Why would I treat her lowly when she has always treated me with so much respect?"

To my surprise, Ahearn-san smiles broadly. "You are excelling, Todoroki Shouto." A sound of utter confusion escapes my throat. She continues, "I was testing you since the moment we started talking. I had to decide whether you were truly worthy of the sentiments Selene holds in her heart for you. And you are. You were honest even in your attempt to deceive me." Well, Selene did always say that I was a poor liar. "Be honest once more. You love her, do you not?"

"I do," I reply without any reluctance.

"Then take my advice: follow through with what you were intending to do from the moment you realized you loved her."

What I was intending to do? A promise I made one summer night when she was sleeping in a hospital bed and I was sitting by her side echoes in my head. To stay with her forever was my vow. Then another thought crosses my mind. "Selene doesn't know about my feelings for her. So how do you know what my intentions were? Is police intuition simply that good, or is there something more? If I may ask, what is your quirk, Ahearn-san?"

Now Ahearn-san's grin turns devilish. "You fell into my trap. I never said that the test was over, did I? Actually, my praise and advice was to goad you to reveal something substantial about your conviction just now. During my experience as a police officer, words mean nothing unless there is proof to back them. My quirk allows me to detect lies. And if I focus hard enough, I can even view the current memories and thoughts flowing through a person's mind. Not even Selene knows of my ability. Then again, she never explicitly lied to me, and I never used my ability on her."

"Is that why you decided to become a police officer?"

Ahearn-san's unwavering smirk gives me all the confirmation I need. The smugness vexes me. As if she can read my silence, she remarks, "If it helps, I'll reveal something embarrassing about Selene. Then you can taunt her, too." A new topic to tease my sweetheart … Okay. You're forgiven, lady. At my prompting, that diabolical smile grows even more naughtier. "She could not braid her hair if her life depended on it."

Huh? "You're telling me that the girl who makes the elaborate chignons cannot do something as simple as a braid? This will be fun."

The lady chuckles, "Now the test is over. And I have reached the verdict that I like you, Todoroki Shouto. That necklace she was wearing … you gave it to her, right? Certainly took you long enough. But it is proof that you treasure her. So if it is any consolation to you, know that she treasures you, too. It will be a difficult journey, but you have a chance at carving your name into her heart."

The back of my neck burns. My palm rises to rub it. "Thanks." Thanks for answering all my unanswered questions. Thanks for understanding my silence. Thanks for giving me the hope of a bright future with her.

Just then, the faucet inside the bathroom turns off, and Selene comes out. Never breaking her gaze from her feet, she stammers an apology for her rudeness. "Shouto, I-I-I should not have left you alone to talk with her stranger. The same for you, Aunt Ahearn. My bout of embarrassment did not excuse my behavior. I will do whatever you want to earn your forgiveness."

Though my sight is fixed on Selene, my words are directed toward Ahearn-san. I swear, "I am up for the challenge."

Finally she looks up and passes confused glances at me and the computer screen. "Ch-challenge?"

"We were talking about the next month's theme for the competition. Now that we ranked from Top Twenty to Top Ten, only three of the contestants will win medals. It is a challenge, is it not?" I smoothly switch the subject as I reach for her and kiss her forehead.

Ahearn-san is quick to catch on and urges us to tell her more about the event.

Now Selene stutters for an entirely different reason.

That is cute.

Hours later, the video call ends.

How we lost track of the time, I have no idea. But I cannot say that I regret it. Deliberately and inadvertently, I learned a lot. About myself, about Selene, and about our relationship. Because of our high positions in society, every move we make is monitored. So if it came out that we sought therapy, the media would turn it into a scandal. Details about my past, her past … they would work as hard as the intelligence agencies to uncover information. That's why neither of us can seek a therapist. That doesn't mean we are alone. I have Mom, Fuyumi, Natsuo, and my classmates. She has the Ahearn family. However, family and friends only go so far. There are some things that only a companion can understand. A best friend. A lover. A person who has taken the time to read you, study you, and understand you without any judgment or reservation.

To me, that person is Selene.

To Selene, I hope that person is me.

So as I watch Selene untangle the marigolds adorned in her hair by the vanity, I feel the impulse to hold her and learn her thoughts. My body moves before I can process. Suddenly, I am standing behind her, grasping her hands, pausing her movements. "Let me."

The shadows cast by the moonlight make everything harder to see. Yet they make everything easy to feel. From the smoothness of the petals to the softness of her tresses, the beating of her heart, the breaths of her lungs. Most of all, the shivers when I touch her skin.

The vanity has a tall mirror. Our faces are cast in darkness, which is the excellent disguise for the impish smirk tugging at the corners of my lips. "Selene, what hairstyles can you do besides the chignon and tendril twist bun?"

"Hmm? Why the sudden curiosity?"

"Just curious."

She thinks about the question for a long moment before responding, "I suppose I can tie my hair up. Or tie it to the side."

"How about fishtails? Braids?" Silence. Utter silence follows. Now I lament the cover of darkness. Once my nerves peak, I call out her name.

"Why ask questions you know the answer to already? Aunt Ahearn already told you when I was hiding in the bathroom, didn't she?" she replies coldly. It is an impressive effort to contain the annoyance in her voice.

But I am good at reading many of her multifaceted layers at this point. Unrestrained chuckles escape my mouth. I fall to my knees as I gasp for air. "Teasing you is so fun, though? If you'd like, I'll do your hair. Helping Fuyumi after she came from a long day of work taught me a lot." When my laughing does not cease, Selene's giggles join in, too.

When we regain control of ourselves, I follow through with my idea. Slowly, each lock of hair unravels from the chignon, tumbling like a white waterfall against her back. I separate the waterfall into three cascades and focus on not messing up the braiding sequence. Suddenly, she shifts a little, exposing herself to the moonlight. Her hands are covering her face.

"Hey! What's wrong?" I ask as I finish securing the braid with a hair tie. Then I walk around the stool and crouch in front of her. "Talk to me. Did something happen?"

"The joking earlier was a brief respite, but … I'm … I'm still feeling guilty about my impertinence earlier today."

A scoff escapes my throat. I cannot help it. "You're making a mountain out of a molehill. The three of us made pleasant conversation, did we not? They wanted to tease you, so they could get even with you. And part of me enjoyed seeing you so flustered. We never wanted to make you feel regretful."

"I-I'm so-"

Instinct seizes me yet again. My finger presses against her lips, silencing her voice. My voice comes out in an unrecognizable tone. It takes me a moment to realize its desperation. "Don't. Don't you dare finish that sentence." I find myself leaning forward and touching her forehead with mine. "Never apologize for something that wasn't your fault. Promise me that."

She murmurs, "I don't think I can."

Deep down, I kind of expected that. Perhaps that is why I simply sigh and carry her in my arms. Lifting her all the way to her bed, I set her down. The girl who would insist she didn't want to burden me remains astutely silent. After climbing into bed myself and arranging the mosquito net around us, I intertwine my fingers with hers and whisper, "We're going to work on that first thing tomorrow morning."

She avoids the subject and says good night.

She falls asleep first.

I take that moment to slip out the marigold I hid in my sleeve and tuck it behind her ear.

Perhaps we cannot seek help from others, but I pray we overcome all our grievances.

Together.

That by caring for each other, we can care for ourselves.

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-192/

Citations:

"'Your heart, Poppy? It is a gift I do not deserve.' He placed his hands on his knees as he lifted his gaze to mine. 'But it is one I will protect until my dying breath.'" - A Kingdom of Flesh and Fire by Jennifer L. Armentrout