A/N: Here we go! Chapter Four! This chapter would've been posted already, and has been up on Ao3 for the past three days, but with this site having been down for a bit, I was only able to post it now. Regardless, it still took me over two whole months to get this out, which, frankly, is way longer than it should have taken in my opinion, and for that, I'd like to apologize. But, I just wasn't satisfied with anything I wrote. The number of rewrites this chapter's scenes have gone through varies from scene to scene, but overall, I rewrote the entire chapter about three times, with several more drafts that I've completely scrapped.

Thankfully, at least, I am finally (mostly) satisfied with this chapter. And as a plus, this chapter is longer than any of the previous chapters have been, so at least some of you are in for a treat, hopefully.

I'm still new to tagging and giving disclaimers for my stories, so if you guys think I should add/remove a tag, or if a Content/Trigger Warning is warranted, please let me know.

With that said, I hope you guys enjoy, and that this chapter was worth the wait in your eyes.


Heartfelt Apologies, Loving Embraces


Sitting behind her desk with a frown on her face, Ume glared tiredly at the textbook laid out before her. Aside from the sounds of her pencil scribbling across the paper and the occasional rustle whenever she turned a page, it was utterly, deathly quiet. Although, she supposed that wasn't anything new.

Her gaze flicked down at the notebook she was writing in, the pages marked with bullet points, filled with any information that might have held even the slightest bit of significance, anything that had the chance of giving her an edge in her upcoming exam.

The sun had set a while ago, now, and as the night dragged on, try as she might, it was becoming difficult for her to focus. Her attention had already begun to wander, but with each passing hour, it only got worse. She'd been forced to reread some sentences, and even whole paragraphs, twice, or even thrice, quite a few times already. While her eyes would continue gliding across the page, her addled mind would fail to comprehend and memorize the words upon them, forcing her to start over again.

She was exhausted, she knew that deep down. Her eyes had begun to sting, and her head had started to droop, as well—her body's way of telling her that enough was enough. It was time to stop for the night, go to bed, get some rest, and pick up where she left off tomorrow.

The thing was, she just wasn't done yet. There was so much more she still had to do, so many more topics she still had to go over if she wanted to be ready, if she wanted to succeed. So much work, with so little time to do it all. Not enough time. Not nearly enough, not at all.

So much time had passed already, and so quickly, too. Spring and summer had passed her by in the blink of an eye, and it wouldn't be long before autumn was over, as well. It was almost winter—November had crossed into December just a few days ago. The entrance exam, which was in February, was only a few months away, now.

At the rate she was going, by the time the exam rolled around, she still wouldn't be ready. She had to keep going, keep studying, and keep training, all so she could pass! She didn't have time to take a break or rest! She had to keep going!

She had to pass! She had to succeed! If she failed... That didn't matter. Failure wasn't an option. Success was all that mattered. She didn't have any other choice.

Ume had to keep going. So, she did.

But as much as she wished she could go on forever, she still had her limits, no matter how hard she tried to ignore them. Her attention still wavered, her concentration still slipped, and each time she made a mistake, her anger and frustration only grew. Her grip around her pencil tightened, her turning of the pages grew more forceful, and her writing grew messy and rushed until it all reached a boiling point.

Then... something snapped.

It was a quiet sound, but compared to the silence of her room, Ume heard it clearly. She watched, her expression almost impassive, as the tip of her pencil rolled across, and then off of, the edge of her desk. The sound it made as it hit the floor was a light, near-inaudible tap.

And yet, Ume heard it.

Slowly, she raised her pencil up to eye level and stared—stared at its broken tip, her expression utterly blank.

For a time, she even seemed calm. The illusion shattered as abruptly as the silence did, as a scream tore from her throat.

"God fucking dammit!" Her arm swept across the desk in a fit of rage, throwing everything upon it to the floor in a series of crashes. Her broken pencil soon followed, hurled against the opposite wall with the strength born from her anger. It bounced off harmlessly, clattering against the floor, before rolling a short distance and finally stopping right beside her foot.

And then it was quiet once more, save for her own, labored breaths.

"God... fucking dammit," she said again, her voice softer this time. The anger had drained out of her, and now, only exhaustion remained.

Ume slumped forward, her hand falling across her face as she propped her elbow atop her desk, her lips twisting into a scowl as tears of frustration and loathing built up in the corners of her eyes. Her shoulders shook lightly, but she didn't make a sound.

She refused to cry over something as trivial as this, and yet, she just didn't understand. It was supposed to be simple! It was supposed to be easy! All she needed to do was memorize a few facts, learn a few new concepts, and then she'd be able to ace her exam without any problems whatsoever! That's how it was supposed to have gone, how it was supposed to be!

So, why was this so difficult? Why couldn't she do this? She was just reading for crying out loud!

What was wrong with her? She knew she was useless, but...

Ume sighed and wiped away her tears before they could fall, then morosely leaned back in her chair as she gazed out the window with a furrowed brow. Despite the sea of gray clouds obscuring the sky, the full moon shone brightly, high in the sky, its ethereal light illuminating her pale skin. And from those clouds, soft, white flecks, seemingly glinting in the moonlight, danced through the air, blown by a light, chill breeze.

Gentle snowfall on a moonlit night...

Why was that so familiar, she wondered?

With a grunt, Ume slammed her hands onto her desk and forced herself to her feet. She tore her gaze away from the window with a heavy, pained feeling in her chest as she hurried to clean up the mess she'd made. Within a minute, her textbook, notebook, and everything else that'd fallen were once more organized, right where they'd originally been.

She'd have to find a sharpener for the pencil, though.

But, she could do that later. Right now, she needed something to give her a boost, just enough to keep her awake for a little longer, so she could finish her work for the night. As it was, she had the perfect thing in mind.

Slowly, Ume made her down the hall and into the kitchen, her gait unsteady born from her drowsiness; she swayed from side to side as she walked, her hand gliding over the nearby wall, ready to steady her if the need arose.

She flicked the lights on as she passed by the switch, wincing at the sudden brightness, a hand held over her eyes to give her a moment to adjust. Once she had, she strode for the cabinets, and without wasting a second, her belts slithered out from beneath the toasty sweater she wore before they latched onto their handles, tore them open, and began rummaging around inside. Before long, she found what she was looking for, and her belts reemerged, wrapped around a handful of items:

A kettle, a cup, and a box of black tea.

Ume had always held a love for tea, ever since she'd first tried it. All the way back in the Edo period during her first life, in fact. She'd lost that love after she'd become a demon—not being able to consume anything other than human flesh did that, she supposed. But now, she was human again, and her love for her favorite drink had been reignited. She drank it as often as she could afford to. At least once per day, typically in the morning.

Over the years, she'd tried all sorts of teas and blends as she'd been able to, and though she had her preferences, there wasn't a single one she hadn't enjoyed. Matcha tea—rich, fragrant, and smooth—was her favorite, easily. Sadly, it was rather expensive compared to some other teas. And while she could and did drink it, she couldn't indulge excessively. Nevertheless, a steaming cup of matcha before school was a perfect way to start her day.

Needless to say, she wasn't going to waste a cup of matcha just to keep herself up, and certainly not so late at night.

That was where black tea came in.

Though a fair bit stronger, and not quite as good in her opinion, it was far cheaper, and it still held a pleasantly sweet taste she could thoroughly enjoy. Tonight, though, it was the caffeine she was after, of which black tea contained a relatively high amount. It wasn't coffee, but it'd suit her needs perfectly.

Speaking of coffee, if she was trying to wake herself up, and then stay awake, coffee would have absolutely been a better choice. However, she wasn't planning to stay up for that long—another hour or two, at most—and a cup of coffee would have given her a bigger energy boost than she needed, further screwing up her already terrible sleep schedule.

When one suffered from chronic nightmares, it wasn't exactly a surprise that their sleep schedule suffered.

It was also worth mentioning that Ume despised coffee—black coffee, especially. Yes, it was probably cheaper than most tea blends, and as mentioned, it did a much better job of energizing someone, but the taste was horrid. It was just way too bitter! She could drink it, in theory, but only after she'd drowned the damn thing in milk, cream, sugar, and a dozen other sweeteners to the point she wasn't even sure if it qualified as coffee anymore. But by that point, the costs of all those additives would add up, and the benefits of buying coffee wouldn't even come close to outweighing the negatives. Case in point, it just wasn't worth it.

The thought of other girls her age going out and spending ludicrous amounts of money on overpriced coffee alone made her shiver. It was such a waste... Then again, with how much girls her age tended to spend on useless junk in general, it was a moot point.

Ironically, as much as Ume hated coffee, her mother loved it. To add insult to injury, for some reason, black coffee had turned out to be her favorite. How she could stand drinking it at all, let alone several cups daily, Ume didn't think she'd ever understand.

Although, with how hard her mother worked and how little she slept, Ume supposed it was necessary.

With a sigh, Ume got to work. She poured some water into the kettle she'd grabbed, and once it was full, she threw it on the stove and promptly lit the burner. As the water heated, she opened the tea box and withdrew a single packet of tea, which she placed into the cup she'd grabbed along with it. With that done, Ume settled against the counter and crossed her arms.

All that was left to do now was wait.

Idly, she pulled out her phone to keep herself occupied, momentarily scowling at the waste of money. She would have settled for an old flip phone, it wasn't like she needed it for anything other than calling and texting, but her mom had wanted to get her something special for her thirteenth birthday. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate it, really, she did, but couldn't the money that had gone into it have been spent on other things?

Despite the conflicting feelings, Ume switched it on, ready to scroll through one of the social media apps she'd installed to pass the time, then immediately paled when she saw the time.

"What?" she gasped quietly. "It's already that late?"

She knew it'd been late, but this... She must have lost track of time while she'd been studying. That just made the loathing in her gut sting all the more, having wasted even more time than she'd thought just trying to focus instead of actually getting anything done.

Then, in the blink of an eye, it was gone, replaced by a deep-seated sorrow when the realization hit her. She craned her neck, her gaze falling upon the front door of their apartment.

"It's already this late," she mumbled sadly, "but... Mom's still not home...?"

It wasn't exactly uncommon. Sometimes, her mom came home extraordinarily late, often after Ume had gone to bed, and on rare occasions, she didn't come home at all for the night, so swamped with work that she didn't have the time. Ume had held out hope, but... if her mother hadn't come home yet, with how late it was, chances were she wouldn't be coming home at all, not tonight.

As much as she didn't want to, she couldn't stop herself from tearing up. She scowled as her eyes stung and her vision blurred. She always cried—why did she always have to cry?

'Stop being selfish!' she thought frustratedly. 'You know mom's working really hard right now, and she's doing it for you, so be grateful and quit your crying already!'

But no matter how many tears she wiped away, they wouldn't stop coming. It was selfish, she knew it was, but she couldn't help it. Ume missed her mom, so much so it hurt.

God, it hurt...

She tried to speak, to say something out loud, but the words wouldn't form. 'Why do you work so hard...?' she asked internally instead. 'I don't deserve it. You're always so tired, I can see it, no matter how much you try to hide it. All because you have to take care of me...' She hiccuped, and a quiet sob escaped her. 'I'm sorry, mom. I'll make it up to you, I promise. As soon as I can... Then you won't have to work so hard anymore...'

Then, abruptly, a sound reached her ears, quiet and just barely within earshot. Ume didn't pay it any mind, not at first. But then, she heard it again. And again. And again. One after another, growing louder as they neared.

She gasped, her head shooting up as she realized what they were.

Footsteps.

Hope surged within her, but she smothered it ruthlessly before it could take root. They were just footsteps. That didn't mean anything. It was probably one of the neighbors, coming home from a late night at work, or a party, or whatever it is her stupid neighbors did, that was all.

It wasn't her mom. It hadn't been a thousand times before, so... Why would it be her now?

So confident she'd been that they'd pass their apartment by, continuing down the hall, growing fainter and fainter as they did so until Ume couldn't even hear them anymore, that she didn't even realize it when they actually stopped.

Not until the sound of a key turning the lock on their door filled her ears.

She was already moving before the door even opened.

Her mother—bundled up in warm winter clothing, lightly dusted with freshly fallen snow—barely had time to step inside and close the door behind her before Ume was upon her. She all but threw herself at her, burying her tear-stricken face into the scarf wrapped around her mother's neck, her arms squeezing as tightly as she dared.

And when her mother, though undeniably startled, instinctively put her own arms—her warm, comforting arms that always made her feel so safe—around Ume's shaking, sobbing form, it hit her.

Her mother was home. She was really, really home.


When she'd finally returned home, long after the sun had set, after another absolutely exhausting day at work, she wasn't sure what she'd been expecting. With how tired she'd been, she didn't think she'd really been expecting anything, aside from returning home, promptly falling into bed, and then waking up the next day and doing it all over again.

But never, not even in a hundred years, would she have expected this.

With a tired, confused, and very worried frown, Yuuna Shabana held her sobbing and still very much awake daughter in her arms.

She'd seen the lights on through the blinds in the window out of the corner of her eyes as she'd approached the door, but she hadn't paid it much mind. She'd thought that maybe Ume had grabbed something from the kitchen and then had forgotten to turn them off when she'd left.

Although, now that she thought about it, Ume wouldn't have forgotten to switch them off in the first place. Her daughter made sure not to let anything—be it water, electricity, or otherwise—go to waste. She would have double-checked to make sure she'd turned them off.

Regardless, the thought that Ume would still be awake hadn't even crossed Yuuna's mind. With how late it was, she'd been certain her daughter would have been asleep—most likely in bed, but there was always a decent chance of her falling asleep at her desk instead. The sight of Ume being slumped over her books had become increasingly common lately, especially as her daughter's exam had begun to near.

So, with that in mind, imagine her surprise when, the moment she opened the door, the sounds of feet pattering across their floor filled her ears. She'd barely had time to close it before Ume had all but crashed into her, her daughter's arms tightly wrapped around her as she'd promptly buried her face into the crook of her neck.

Yuuna had made to speak up, then—to ask her daughter why she was still awake, especially with how late it was, but she hadn't even been able to get the first word out before the fact Ume was shaking—sobbing into her shoulder—had registered in her addled mind.

So she did what any mother worth a damn would do—she comforted her child. Her hand rose, and with slow, gentle movements, she brushed her fingers through Ume's beautiful white hair, shushing her and whispering comforting words into her ear.

Though Ume didn't say anything, too busy crying to choke out any words, the tightening of her daughter's arms around her told Yuuna that her actions didn't go unacknowledged nor unappreciated. She wasn't quite sure how long it'd been, but in time, Ume began calming down until her heartfelt cries were little more than quiet sniffles.

Only then did she speak.

"Ume," she said quietly, careful not to startle her. "What's wrong, sweetie? Why are you still up at a time like this?" The thought that Ume had had another nightmare crossed her mind, but she dismissed it after some consideration. That didn't seem right—Ume would have tried to hide it, or downplay it, at the very least, if she had.

Ume was such a sweet child. She tried so hard not to make her worry, but in the end, her efforts only made Yuuna worry even more.

Eventually, her daughter pulled away just enough for her to raise her head and meet her mother's eyes. Yunna stared into them, marveling at the striking lime-green she'd inherited from her father. It made her heart melt every single time, and though she was tired and undeniably worried, her smile was no less bright for it.

And yet... Ume couldn't meet her own, not for long, anyway. Yunna saw something flash in her daughter's eyes before she averted her gaze, the expression on her face being one she couldn't quite place.

"I'm okay," Ume eventually said, her voice quiet. Yunna felt her heart clench at how choked her daughter's voice sounded. "I'm... I'm okay..."

'Are you?' Yunna sadly thought to herself. 'Are you, truly?'

Ume continued before Yuuna could voice those thoughts.

"I-I know, I... I should have been in bed by now... but, um... I was studying, and I lost track of time. I wasn't planning to stay up much longer, I swear. S-Sorry for making you worry..." Only then did Yuuna fully realize what her daughter was feeling.

Guilt. Ume was feeling guilty for the meager crime of making her mother worry.

'Oh, my sweet baby...' As amusing as it was, it only made Yuuna want to hold Ume close and cry.

Instead, Yuuna settled for a soft sigh, placing a gentle hand upon Ume's cheek and raising her head so her daughter would meet her eyes. As soon as she did, Yuuna smiled, soft, caring, and reassuring.

"There's nothing you need to apologize for, Ume," she said. "But do try to be more careful next time, hmm? As much as you've grown already, you're still a growing girl and you need your rest."

"I know, Mom. It won't happen again."

"That's a good girl," Yunna said softly. Ume giggled airily when she suddenly placed a soft kiss on her daughter's forehead. The warm smile it drew to her daughter's face warmed Yuuna's heart in turn.

Whenever Ume smiled, nothing else in the world could hope to compare.

"But why the tears, Ume? Are you sure nothing happened?"

Her daughter merely shook her head. "N-No, everything's fine... Really, it's just..." Ume pressed herself closer, tightening the hug she'd wrapped her in, before giving her mother a wide smile. "I'm just so happy that you're finally home! I missed you so much!"

Yuuna felt something in her chest crack. Then suddenly, the smile that had so easily, so naturally, come to her lips before now fought to slip away at the terrible sinking feeling in her gut.

"I... I missed you too, Ume," she said. However hesitant those words sounded, Ume either didn't notice or didn't care, only further tightening her enthusiastic hug with a cheerful smile.

Even if they were hesitant, that didn't make her words any less truthful. She loved Ume more than anything on this Earth, and whenever she was away, whether at work or elsewhere, her daughter never failed to occupy her thoughts.

But as they hugged, Yuuna's gaze drifted past her daughter, falling upon the small analog clock on the foyer wall beside them, and her heart sunk as she realized just how late it really was.

Reluctantly—because oh, how she wished she could keep hugging her beautiful daughter until the end of time—Yuuna pulled away, wilting at the soft, protesting whine that slipped past Ume's lips.

"It's... late, Ume. Come on. I still have to get ready for bed, and so do you. You know you should have already been asleep."

"What?" Ume gasped, her beautiful eyes widening in distress. "But... you just got home! I haven't seen you all day!"

"I know, Ume. Believe me, I know. But we both need to wake up early. I have another busy day at work, and you have classes tomorrow. Tonight's a school night, honey, you know that."

Her daughter didn't respond. She merely let her head drop, her shoulders slumping as her gaze fell to the floor.

Yuuna sighed sadly. "Come on, Ume. Let's get you to bed." Then, she turned and walked away.

Or rather, she tried to. She hadn't even taken two steps before Ume latched onto her once more, her arms desperately wrapped around her middle before she felt her daughter press her face into her back.

Yuuna couldn't help the startled grunt that left her lips. "Ume?"

But the voice that answered her, so cheerful only a minute ago, was now so, so small.

"Please... Don't go yet," her daughter whispered in between sniffles. "I don't want you to go..."

"Please, Ume..." Yuuna said sadly, her eyes screwed shut. She reached down, ready to pry herself from her daughter's grip, but a handful of whispered words was all it took to stop her.

"Please... Don't leave me all alone again..."

That was all it took to make her freeze.

Her breath shuddered as she craned her neck, twisting around to look at Ume—to look at her sweet baby girl.

The sight made her heart clench painfully.

Ume was pressed up against her as tightly as she dared, her face buried into the folds of her coat. Her shoulders shook with each and every barely restrained sob as she held onto her mother, almost as if fearing she would disappear should she let go.

'Oh, Ume...' Yuuna thought as her eyes filled with tears. 'Is... Is this what I've been doing to you?'

She knew the time she spent at home with Ume was minimal at best, God, she knew. Occasionally, Yuuna could spare some time in the mornings before work and in the evenings after she'd come home, but... As her workload increased and the cost of living rose, the time she could spend with Ume lessened.

She hadn't been able to share breakfast with Ume for over a week. Her schedule wouldn't allow it—she was just so busy.

Recently, it had become increasingly common for Yuuna to have left the apartment before Ume woke up. And when she finally came home, it was only after Ume had gone to bed—today being a rare exception. She always checked up on her daughter as she slept, both after she woke up in the morning and before she went to bed after she'd come home, but what did that even count for? She was well aware Ume didn't like how little time she spent with her—how couldn't she be?—but to think... That her absence had had such an effect on Ume...

Oh, God... How could... How could she call herself a mother, when she couldn't even make time for her daughter? No. She wasn't a mother.

She was just a failure of one.

"Oh, Ume..." Yunna didn't waste another moment, Ume was wrapped up in her arms before she could even blink, Yuuna's fingers already running through her daughter's hair as tears spilled down her cheeks. "Oh, Ume... My sweet baby girl, I'm... I'm so, so sorry, I... I had no idea... Oh, God..."

She felt Ume twitch in her grip before she spoke. "Why..." she began, her voice choked with tears. "Why are you apologizing...? You didn't do anything wrong! I'm just... being selfish!"

"I left you alone, Ume," she explained, horrified that Ume felt the need to ask at all, to ask why she deserved a thousand apologies for what Yuuna had done, or rather, what she hadn't been able to. "For so long, I... There's nothing selfish about what you want, Ume, nothing at all. I should have made time for you, but I didn't even make the effort— I didn't... I didn't even try... Oh, God, Ume, I... I can't even begin to tell you just how sorry I am... Oh, I'm sorry... So, so sorry..."

Ume glanced up then, and immediately a panicked squeak left her lips. "M-Mom! Why— N-No, no! D-Don't cry! Why are you crying?! I-It's okay, I get it! You were busy taking care of me! It's not your fault! P-Please, stop crying...! I-I didn't mean to—"

"It's not okay!" Yuuna said, her voice unusually hard, ruthlessly cutting through her daughter's pleas. All that escaped her daughter's mouth afterward were silent sobs and muffled hiccups. "I've failed you, Ume. Do you understand? How can I call myself a mother after what I've done to you?" She sucked in a breath, and what came out was a soft, heart-wrenching whimper. "I'm so sorry, Ume..." she choked out. "I'm such a terrible mother..."

She knew Ume would protest. She would say her mother was wrong or mistaken, but that was just another failure on Yuuna's part. She had to make her daughter understand that nothing about this situation even approached being okay.

She'd made her daughter think child neglect was... What, that it was okay? Or that asking for her mother's attention was somehow frowned upon? She didn't know if she wanted to laugh or cry. How badly had she needed to have fucked up for that to happen?

If her husband could see her now... God, forgive her...

And yet, when Ume pushed away and met her mother's eyes... she just looked so angry. Yuuna had imagined she'd be upset, certainly, but this went well beyond that. When was the last time she'd seen Ume so...

What other word for it was there besides enraged?

She couldn't recall.

Then, Ume screamed, her voice loud and shrill.

And all Yuuna could do was listen, no matter how... painful it was.

"Stop! Stop it! Stop saying that! Stop apologizing, stop saying you're terrible! Stop calling yourself a failure! Stop it, stop it, stop it! How can you say that after everything you've done for me?! You're not! You're not terrible! You're not a failure, either! You're the best mom anyone could ask for! It doesn't matter how tired you are! You're always working so hard! All so you can earn enough money to provide for me! It's not your fault you need to take care of me all on your own! So, don't! Don't blame yourself!

"It's my fault, anyway! I'm the reason you have to work so hard! I'm the reason you're always so tired! I'm the reason you don't have time for anything besides work! It's my fault, all of it! But for some reason, you never stopped loving me, no matter what! How could you be a terrible mother after all of that?! You're not terrible! You're not a failure! You're my mother, who loves her stupid, useless daughter with all of her heart, even when she doesn't deserve it!

"I'm the one who should be apologizing, not you! I'm just a burden, I always have been! If not for me, you wouldn't have all these problems! You wouldn't have to keep going to a job you hate just to make ends meet! You wouldn't have to keep spending everything you earn on me! And you wouldn't be tired all the time because you'd finally be able to sleep at night without me waking you up just because I had another stupid nightmare!"

By the end of her rant, so choked with emotion she was—gasping for breath and with hiccups spilling from her throat—that Ume could barely string a sentence together at all.

But, she still managed one more—one last set of words. And that final sentence, like one final stake being driven into her chest, was all it took to shatter her mother's heart.

"If it weren't for me... maybe you'd have done something with your life! Maybe you'd actually be happy!"

That silence that followed was... Yuuna didn't know how to describe it. All she could do was stare, absolutely horrified, as Ume, her face red and blotchy from all the tears running down her cheeks as she'd screamed herself downright hoarse, oh-so-slowly calmed herself down.

Eventually, Yuuna spoke, her voice softer, quieter, and filled with more fear than she'd felt in God knew how long. "Ume, you... You can't mean that. Please," she begged, "tell me you don't really mean that. Tell me you don't really think of yourself that way. Please..."

But Ume just looked away. The look on her face was made up of one single emotion.

Guilt. Overwhelming guilt.

Yuuna, her composure hanging by a single thread, let out a shuddering breath. "Ume," she said softly. "Come here. Please..."

And Ume—dutiful, obedient Ume—did as her mother asked.

Once she was close enough, Yuuna wrapped her arms around her in the tightest, most desperate hug she had ever given.

She didn't say anything, then. Neither of them did. They just stood there, crying in each other's arms, as silent as the grave, save for the occasional muffled sob or sniffle.

She didn't think either of them could have said anything, anyway. Not then. Not as they were.

Instead, she just squeezed her daughter tighter. For what else could she do?

She wasn't sure how long they stood there, too absorbed in her daughter's presence to focus on anything else. It was only when a shrill whistle from the kitchen filled her ears that Yuuna was removed from her thoughts with a violent jolt. It took her a second to recognize the sound, but as soon as she did, she allowed herself to calm down, however much she could.

"A tea kettle...?" she mumbled before she returned her attention to her daughter. "Were you... making tea, Ume?"

After a moment, Ume gave her a subtle, hesitant nod. "Y-Yeah..." she said quietly. "I was." She paused for a moment before nervously continuing. "Would... Would you, um... Do you want some? I could... make you a cup... If you wanted, I mean, um..."

All it took to hush her daughter was a single finger raised to her lips. She looked up, a questioning glint in those lime-green eyes of hers.

"Yes," Yuuna eventually said, her head bobbing in a slow, subtle nod. "I'd... I think I'd like that."

"O-Okay..." Hesitantly, Ume slowly disentangled herself from her mother's embrace before she turned and started towards the kitchen.

"Ume."

Her daughter stopped dead in her tracks, glancing back at her over her shoulder.

Yuuna sighed. She felt... She didn't know how she felt. Numb, exhausted, miserable... Anything and everything in between, all of it mixed into a terrible mess of feelings she had no idea how to begin sorting through.

If she didn't know how she felt herself, then she wouldn't even begin to guess how Ume was feeling right now. Probably just as terrible as her mother was feeling, though.

"Take a seat on the couch when you're done, okay? I think... I think we should... talk. Just for a little while..."

Sleep could wait. Work could wait. Hell, everything else could wait for all she cared. Right now, nothing was more important than her daughter.

Yuuna wasn't going to let her suffer like this for even a single second longer.


"I'm sorry."

That was the first thing her mother had said since they'd taken their seats on the couch, finally breaking minutes of near-unbearable silence. Their hands were settled in their laps, fingers curled around a steaming cup of black tea, but neither moved to even so much as take a sip.

Ume hated herself right now, maybe more than she'd ever hated herself in her entire life. She just... didn't get it. Why had she done that? Why had she said those things? She had been selfish, that's all. And because she hadn't kept herself in check, she'd gone and made her mother cry.

What kind of daughter did that? What was wrong with her?

She could barely stand to look at her mother's face, either—so sad, so lost was her expression that even a glimpse made Ume nauseous from all the guilt she felt.

'You did that,' her thoughts whispered, like a devil sat on her shoulder. 'This is your fault, just like everything else.'

God, she wished she could take it all back so that none of what she'd said would have ever left her lips. But, no matter how much she wanted to, she'd said things that could never be unsaid.

And now, she'd be forced to sit through her mother apologizing to her useless daughter all over again.

Why was she even apologizing? Couldn't she see? None of this was her mother's fault! It was all because of Ume, not her! Only someone as stupid and useless as her could make her mom so miserable, so of course it was her fault!

There wasn't a single thing her mother needed to say sorry for.

So, why couldn't she see...?

"I'm sorry, Ume," her mother repeated, each apology making Ume's heart throb painfully. "I'm so, so sorry."

She sounded so soft, so tired, so... Ume didn't know how else to describe it. All she knew was that she hated how... small her mother's voice was.

Just hearing her speak made her want to start crying all over again.

"Please... stop," Ume whispered, her eyes screwed shut, but a finger pressed to her lips stopped her before she could say anything else.

"Hush, Ume. Let me speak. I have a lot I want... No, a lot I need to say. Don't interrupt me."

She didn't want to. God, she didn't want to. But regardless of what she wanted, Ume quieted down. After a moment, her mother continued, her blank gaze turned downward towards the tea cup in her lap as her reflection stared back at her.

And with each word, Ume only felt her self-loathing grow. Each and every second was pure and utter agony, and yet still, she forced herself to listen.

No matter how much she hated it.

"You have no reason to apologize, Ume. You have nothing to be sorry for. You haven't done anything wrong. I've said it once, now. I will say it again. And I will continue saying so until you start to believe it, no matter how long that may take. Do you understand me, Ume? You haven't done anything wrong. Nothing at all.

"I'm the one who needs to apologize, not you. I'm your mother, Ume. And as your mother, it's my job to care for you, to make sure you're happy and healthy. I've realized now that, I haven't been doing a good job of that. Not for... quite a long time, in fact...

"It's true that I've been busy. I won't deny that. But it doesn't matter how busy I am—that is no excuse for how I've treated you. There is no excuse, nothing that could even hope to wave away how... poorly I've treated you. I've been neglecting you, Ume, I realize that now. You've been left all alone for far too long. That you think it's... selfish to want my attention, to seek my love, my approval, is just another failure on my part.

"You are my pride and joy, Ume, for whatever my words may be worth. You are the light of my life. Everything I do, I do for you. Nothing else on this Earth do I love more than I love you. Nothing else even comes close. And yet, despite how much I love you—how much I say I love you—it doesn't change that I have failed, as your mother, to show you the depth of that love. Oh, how I've failed..."

Her mother raised her head, then, and with the way her eyes brimmed with tears, her expression one of deep regret, it took everything Ume had to keep herself from looking away.

"In... In what world could you possibly think you were ever a burden to me, Ume? That you alone are at fault for all of our struggles? How could you? How could you think of yourself in that way?" Her mother took a deep, shuddering breath, set her cup down, and said the words that, while so incredibly painful, Ume desperately needed to hear.

"You are not a burden, Ume," she began, her voice hard, yet no less kind, no less loving. "You never have been. And I am so terribly sorry I allowed you to think that way. You are a sweet, kind, caring girl—smarter and stronger than I have ever been, than I ever could be, and a more wonderful daughter, I could never have asked for. Perhaps you're not perfect, perhaps you have flaws, but who doesn't? Nobody is perfect. Not you, nor I. But that won't stop me from loving you. Because I will always love you, with all of my heart... just as you are.

"I swear to you, Ume, that I will do everything I can... absolutely everything... to prove that I truly mean those words."

"You... Do you..."

Ume hiccuped, her eyes overflowing with tears. She put her cup of tea down beside her mother's before she tried wiping them away with trembling hands, but like before, they wouldn't stop. It was difficult for her to speak—her tongue felt dry, and she struggled to take in a proper breath—but eventually, with her mother's fingers brushing across her cheeks, wiping away the tears she hadn't been able to, Ume forced out the one question she needed her mother to answer the most.

"Do you... really mean that...?"

Instead of giving her an answer, her mother just... leaned forward. Her arms wrapped around Ume again, and she pulled her daughter close, resting her daughter's head against her breast. Then, she felt a comforting hand begin to rub soothing circles upon her back, soothing her in a way she didn't think anyone else could manage, as her gentle fingers began to comb through her long, soft hair.

Then, and only then, did her mother finally speak.

"Of course I do," she whispered, her voice tickling her ear. "No matter what path you choose, no matter what becomes of you, I will always love you, Ume. No matter what. I promise."

With those words, even if only for a moment, Ume felt safer and more loved than she ever had in either of her lives, right there in her mother's arms.

Ume couldn't remember the last time she'd cried so hard. Her face was buried into her mother's chest, her mother's voice whispering sweet nothings into her ears. With each tear that streaked down her face and every sob that left her lips, she felt just a little bit better. It was almost as if she were crying all her troubles, all her worries, and all her fears away.

By the end of it, she had no more tears to give. She was worn out—utterly exhausted. Her limbs felt heavy, and her eyelids heavier as she struggled to keep them open. And yet, she felt better than she had in a long while, as in the place of the pain that had burrowed into her heart was now a warmth she hadn't felt in so, so long.

"I love you, Mommy," Ume whispered. "I love you so, so much..."

The soft, barely audible titter that reached her ears filled Ume with a joy no other could hope to give.

"My sweet Shiraume," her mother whispered in turn. "I love you, too. With all of my heart."

"Mom, I... I won't let you down," she said suddenly. "I swear, I'll… I'll become a hero... I'll make plenty of money, and then... Then you won't have to work so hard anymore."

"Ume..." her mother gasped softly, undoubtedly surprised. "Is that why you want to become a hero?"

"Of course!" she said hotly.

"Oh, sweetie, I'm... I'm touched, really. But you don't have to do that. I thought you wished to become a hero because being a hero was what you wanted to be. If you're only doing it for the money, then there are plenty of other careers you could choose from. Is there nothing else you have in mind, nothing else you want to achieve in life?"

Ume shook her head stubbornly. "No. It doesn't matter what I become. As long as it pays well, enough for me to support us both, then I couldn't care less."

"Then why not go to university after finishing high school, Ume? You could earn a degree to help you find a career you might enjoy beyond earning money." Her mother sighed, her breath shuddered. "Preferably something safer than heroics..."

Ume blinked confusedly. "Huh?" she mumbled. "What do you mean?"

Her mother laughed again, humorlessly this time. It sounded worried. Bitter. Scared.

"I'm... I'm worried, Ume," she admitted. "And, honestly? I'm just not sure about you becoming a hero..."

"But... Why not?"

After a moment, which her mother used to soothe her nerves and collect her thoughts, she finally spoke, stealing the breath from her daughter's lungs. "I know how capable you are, Ume. You're so strong, so smart—more so than I could ever hope to be. And yet, no matter how capable you are, it won't change the fact that heroics are dangerous! Heroes sustain injuries all the time, thanks to all sorts of causes. I... I can't stand the thought of you getting hurt, Ume. I just... I just can't..."

Before her eyes, Ume watched as her mother teared up, a shuddering breath escaping from between her lips.

"I-I'm sorry, I just..." She sniffled, wiping her eyes before she continued. "I'm not just scared, Ume, I'm terrified. I don't doubt you'll be able to become a hero. Perhaps you'll even become a great one. But all it takes is one mistake, and... and then..." Her mother shuddered, her last few words left unsaid.

"I've already lost someone precious to me once, Ume," her mother said, her voice full of pain. "I can't go through that again."

Ume's eyes widened. 'She's... She's talking about dad,' she realized.

Beyond a few vague impressions, Ume couldn't even remember her father—she'd just been too young when he'd died. It was even funny, she supposed, if in a terribly painful way. There were just so many memories bouncing around in her head.

Most were from her first life, haunting her even now. They'd stuck with her somehow, even after she'd died, even after she'd been reborn. Even those Ume had thought she'd lost when she'd been turned into a demon had returned after she'd died. They were still there, all of them, reminding her of a life full of pain, guilt, and far too many regrets.

Gyutaro's snarling face was the most vivid among them. And the most painful.

And yet, despite how much Ume wished she could forget the memories of her past some days, she didn't think she'd ever be able to. For better or worse, whether blessing or curse, these memories would always remain with her.

But then, why couldn't she remember her father? She wouldn't even know what he'd looked like if it weren't for the portrait her mother kept in her room.

The only thing she could see of him whenever she looked in the mirror was the color of his eyes.

How was that fair? Why did she have to remember that which she wished she could forget—all those horrid, painful memories full of nothing but misery—while that which she desperately wished she could remember had slipped through her fingers, no matter how hard she'd tried to hold on.

At least she didn't miss her father. Not truly, anyway, not in the same way she missed her brother. For how could she miss something she'd barely even had? It was a small mercy, she supposed, but no less cold. Because, as much as she didn't miss him, Ume couldn't help but wonder how things might have turned out if her father had never died.

She supposed she would never know.

"I don't want to lose you, Ume," her mother continued, jolting her out of her thoughts. "I can't lose you. I... I don't know what I'd do if... if you..." Her mother shuddered suddenly, and Ume immediately squeezed her tight in an attempt to return even a fraction of the comfort she'd been given.

As her mother cried silently, overcome by her fears and worries, Ume's thoughts raced inside her head.

'Is... Is this how you felt, Mom...?' she thought to herself. 'All this time? But you didn't... You never... Why didn't you...'

"Why didn't you say anything...?" Ume finally asked, her voice little more than a whisper, as she was overwrought with worry as well. "You... You could have said something, anything... But, you didn't... Why didn't you? If you had, I... If I'd known... I... I would've..."

'I would have found something else,' Ume didn't say. 'I wouldn't have made you worry.'

She couldn't get the words out. It hurt too much.

But, her mother seemed to understand her anyway. "I could never ask that of you, Ume," she said as she shook her head. "For you to give up on being a hero, the very thing you've dedicated yourself to—that which you strive for... You've wanted to be a hero for so long, Ume. It's your dream, regardless of your motivations. Would you have truly given up on that dream just because I asked you to? Because I was worried?"

When the words once again refused to form, Ume settled for a reluctant nod, devastation scrawled across her face.

She would have. God, she really would have. She would have given up being a hero, in a heartbeat, even, if only her mother had asked her to.

Even if doing so would have destroyed her.

It would've been beyond painful giving it all up, especially now that she was so close. But, if becoming a hero made her mother worry, made her miserable, then...

The reason Ume wanted to be a hero in the first place was because the money she would earn could go to supporting her mother, allowing her to take it easy. If she was lucky, she would even be able to climb to the top of the hero rankings, which would earn her even more money. If Ume managed that, her mom wouldn't need to work at all—she could quit her job outright and live off of what Ume gave her. She'd finally be able to relax after years of hard work, and Ume would finally be able to repay her for everything she's done for her!

All Ume wanted was to make her mother happy. She wanted her to be comfortable and at ease. She wanted her to be able to enjoy her life. What she didn't want was for her to struggle, for her life to be difficult. Certainly not like she was now.

But if Ume were to become a hero, and in the process, make her mother distraught and miserable, then what was the point? She wanted to make her mother's life easier, not harder!

If quitting would set her mother's mind at ease, then... she would.

No matter how much she didn't want to.

After all, what did her happiness matter if that happiness came at the cost of making her mother suffer?

"Okay..." Ume finally whispered as she squeezed her eyes shut. "I'll... If... If it... If it really makes you worry so much, then... then, I'll... I'll..."

She couldn't.

She just couldn't say it.

But why? Why couldn't she say it?

She knew why. Even if she wouldn't admit it. Because, despite it all, deep down, Ume genuinely wanted to become a hero. She wanted to do something with her life, she wanted to prove—to herself, her mother, and her brother beyond the grave—that she could actually do this.

Who cared about doing the right thing? Who cared about saving people? Worthless gratitude from nameless faces, none of that mattered in the end!

Ume just wanted...

"You're the worthless one and you know it!"

She just wanted...

"You can't even stand on your own two feet!"

All she wanted...

"You should have never been born in the first place!"

For once in her life... she just wanted to feel like she was worth something.

She didn't want to be useless anymore...

Ume hadn't even realized she'd begun to cry again until after her mother had started shushing her, a gentle hand once more rubbing soothing circles on her back as she brushed fingers through her hair—all while Ume sobbed into her shoulder—just like she always did whenever Ume was upset.

God, she was such a crybaby. All she'd ever done, all she ever did, was cry, all the time. Even now that still hasn't changed.

But her mom didn't mind, not one bit. She just kept holding her, kept comforting her, all with a gentle smile on her face.

"I could have, you know," her mother said suddenly, her voice soft, once Ume had begun to calm down. Still, she sniffled, and she hiccuped every now and then, but her cries had grown silent, enough for her mother to speak. "I could have stopped you from becoming a hero. I could do it even now if I truly wanted to."

Hearing those words made Ume freeze, but a gentle caress from her mother's soft fingers was all she needed to relax once more.

Her mother continued. "If I were to put my foot down... that would be the end of it. Because, no matter how it would make you feel, you would listen to me. That's just the type of girl you are. Considerate... Generous... Selfless... Kind."

Ume felt the sudden urge to snort as bitter amusement bubbled up inside her, but she didn't get the chance to before her mother kept talking.

"Then, you would have applied to some other school. And after you would have graduated, you might have gone to university, where you would have studied for a degree. You would have gotten a job, hopefully, one you would have enjoyed. But, most importantly, you would have been safe.

"I wouldn't have needed to worry about you anymore."

Her mother sighed then, and Ume shifted in her arms to gaze up at her, up at the resigned expression on her face.

"But, again, I could never do that to you, Ume. No, I won't do it. Even if I could live with myself after, I refuse to make you miserable, to destroy your dream just because I worry. Because I will always worry about you, Ume. It's my job to worry as your mother. That won't ever change, whether you become a hero or not.

"But, especially... Especially because I know firsthand how it feels when your dreams are torn apart."

Ume's eyes widened, but... not a single sound left her mouth. She just watched as her mother's face filled with emotion, as her thoughts returned to what had to have been years long past.

"When I was your age... I wanted to be a doctor when I grew up." A small, almost nostalgic smile split her lips that didn't quite reach her eyes. She turned to look at Ume, then. "Did you know that?"

Numbly, Ume shook her head. "N-No..." she said, her voice barely even a whisper.

"Surprised, are you?" Her mother tittered. "I don't blame you. Everyone wants to be a hero nowadays, so hearing someone want to be something so... underwhelming in comparison, I suppose it's a bit odd, isn't it?"

"I guess so..." After a moment, she asked, "What... What kind of doctor?"

"A physician," her mother answered. "I've wanted to be one for... quite some time now. I was little more than a young girl, I think, when I first realized what I wanted to be. At that age, you're fascinated with... pretty much everything, no matter how meaningless or inane it turns out to be. And how our bodies worked... That fascinated me most of all.

"So, after I finished high school, I applied to university. It took dedication and hard work, but in the end, I managed to get accepted. The time I spent there... From the moment I first stepped through those doors until the day I left for good, those were some of the best years of my life. Even now, I cherish the memories I made while studying there."

"That... That sounds great, Mom," Ume said honestly, her lips tilting slightly to form a small smile.

"It was," her mother said. Then, she frowned. And suddenly, she just looked so incredibly sad. "But all good things come to an end. And this, as it turned out, was no different."

"What... What happened...?"

Her mother smiled again before she spoke, but the sadness in her eyes was still plain as day. Whenever Ume glanced at the look on her face, the word "bittersweet" came to mind.

"At first... everything was fine. More than fine, in fact, everything was wonderful. I was studying a topic I genuinely enjoyed, and on top of that, I was able to meet new people and make friends. One of those friends was your father." Her mother blushed suddenly, her cheeks tinting red as her smile turned sly. "Although, he wasn't a friend for very long, was he?"

"Ew, Mom, that's gross!" Ume slapped her mother lightly on the shoulder, and before she knew it, they were both giggling without a care in the world.

It didn't last long, though.

No amount of laughter would change the fact that he was gone—long dead and buried.

Both of them knew it, especially her mother.

The silence that followed wasn't even awkward, it was just... uncomfortable. Downcast. Made so by memories of what once was, and thoughts of what might have been.

"Your father, he... he was perfect," her mother eventually continued. If it weren't for the pain in her eyes, she would've reminded Ume of a love-struck teenager fantasizing about their crush. "From the moment I first met him, there was... something about him. I'm still not quite sure what it was. Maybe it was his smile, his laugh, or, perhaps it was any number of things, really. But... I knew, from the very first moment that he was different, that he was special. Soon, I grew to love him. And in time, he returned my feelings. Before I even knew what was going on, I had a ring on my finger... and a child in my belly."

Slowly, her mother raised her hand, and Ume's gaze landed on the beautiful golden band looped around her finger.

She wasn't quite sure how it made her feel.

"Though it was an unexpected surprise, learning I was pregnant with you was the happiest moment of my life," her mother admitted, the way she looked at her only making her words seem all the more true.

And yet, something about those words stole the breath from Ume's lungs.

"Wait... surprise...?" she squeaked, her heart missing a beat.

Her mother nodded, her lips spread in a sheepish smile. "We were, well... perhaps a little hasty when it came to our... passion for one another," she admitted. "And our, frankly irresponsible, nightly activities led to an... unexpected pregnancy. One from which you were born."

Ume's eyes widened as the implications hit her, and all of a sudden, she felt so, so... terrible. Guilt bubbled up inside her, more than enough to make her choke on the emotion.

She only barely managed to ask her mother the question she didn't even want to know the answer to.

"Y-You mean... Was it... was it my...?"

"No," her mother interrupted, her voice quiet—calm—yet so forceful the only thing Ume could do was listen. "I already told you that there's nothing for which you are to blame."

Ume believed her. With how certain her mother sounded, how couldn't she? But, if it wasn't her fault, then...

Sensing the unspoken question, her mother continued, far more sullen than she'd been before.

"I won't lie and say that you were planned, Ume. And we both knew it would have been difficult raising you in our situation, as unprepared as we were. But we were willing and able to rise to the occasion. Your father, in particular, had been in an excellent position to care for and provide for you. God knows he was more than willing, too.

"Your father wasn't a university student—when I'd met him, he was already a hard-working man. And when you were born, he worked as hard as possible to ensure all three of us were happy and cared for. With him providing for us, it allowed me to continue my studies. It was difficult, of course, but... In time, I would have graduated with a degree. And then... I firmly believe that everything would have been fine."

Her mother sighed, then, so full of sorrow, pain, and longing that Ume could hardly believe it.

"But, one night, I received a phone call... and I was informed your father had been caught in a villain attack. He... He didn't make it. And with him gone, with no one else to take care of you, I... I dropped out. What other choice did I have? I scrambled for any work I could find to keep you fed, and... Well... Here we are..." she said with a sigh. "Nearly a decade and a half later."

Then, her mother turned to her, and her eyes bored into Ume's own.

And Ume couldn't help but freeze. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen her mother so genuinely angry.

"You're not at fault, Ume," she said, her voice steady despite the rage Ume knew was building behind her eyes. "You never have been. You were just a child—how could I blame you for anything? No, I don't blame you. I never will. You've done no wrong, committed no crime. The only one who's to blame is the son of a bitch who stole my husband away from me.

"When your father died, my dream died along with him. I lost my loving husband, I was forced to give up the career I'd sought since I was only a girl, and the life I thought we would have had—all three of us, happy, together—was ripped to shreds before my eyes.

"But I still had you, Ume. You, and you alone, are the sole reason I managed to keep going. And seeing the beautiful young lady you've grown up to be, nothing could make me prouder than that.

"I won't ever stop worrying about you, Ume. And if you were to choose a different career to pursue, I would be beyond overjoyed. But I will not force you to stop. I refuse to tear your dreams apart just as mine were, just because I'm worried."

Her mother smiled, then. There was a pain, a sadness behind it, but at the same time, it was the proudest and most genuine smile Ume had ever seen.

"So, go be a hero, Ume," her mother said. "Be the best hero you can possibly be. I'll be here, rooting for you, every single step of the way."

Those words made Ume feel in a way she couldn't describe. Her eyes stung familiarly as they filled with tears yet again, and with a fragile yet beaming smile, she buried her face into her mother's chest one last time.

And when she felt her mother's arms tighten around her in turn, she let go of her fears and wept.

"I love you, Mom! Thank you! I'll... I'll make you proud! I promise!"

"There's no need, Ume," her mother said gently.

"I'm already proud of you, sweetie. I always have been."


For the umpteenth time, Ashido laughed elatedly as she avoided yet another of Kirishima's attacks, delighting in the look of utter frustration on his face.

"Dammit!" she heard him growl, and all it did was make her giggle.

"Too slow, Kirishima!" she yelled with a taunting smile.

He lunged again, his face twisted into a scowl as he reeled an arm back and let his fist fly.

Acid erupted from the soles of her bare feet, which she smeared across the ground as she slid backward, ducking under his punch. His fist just barely missed her, brushing past her head so closely she felt his fingers ruffle her hair.

And yet, all she did was laugh. "So close!" she teased. "You almost got me there!"

Again, he attacked her, and again, he missed, even if just barely. She slid past him as she avoided his blow, coating his skin with her acid as she brushed his side with her fingers.

Ashido didn't miss the way Kirishima winced, and the pained hiss that left his mouth reached her ears loud and clear. She'd be lying if she said using her Quirk on him didn't make her a little nervous, but so long as she was careful, she knew he'd be fine.

Effectively immune to her own acid she might be, but it didn't change the fact that she knew that, even diluted, it probably stung like hell. It always would, too, unless she turned its corrosiveness all the way down to zero. But, aside from a few light chemical burns, there wouldn't be any lasting damage.

Besides, a little bit of pain never hurt anybody, right?

Kirishima whirled, a scowl on his face, before he chased after her again, a determined glint shining in his eyes.

Ashdio snickered. "You didn't think it'd be that easy, did you?" With a swing of her arm, she unleashed a spray of acid, turning a large strip of ground between them into impassable terrain, stopping Kirishima's charge dead in its tracks.

Well, in reality, that acid wasn't actually strong enough to stop him. In an actual fight, he would just run right over it. Sure, it would sting and he might burn his feet a little—if he wasn't wearing shoes, that is—but that was it. Then again, in a real fight, she would have dramatically increased the power of her acid. But, since this was just a combat spar, they weren't exactly trying to kill or maim each other.

So, they made sure to hold back.

Just as Ashido kept her acid's corrosiveness to a minimum, leaving little else other than slight burns, Kirishima did the same with his own Quirk. Namely, he only used it to block her attacks. Any punch or kick he threw at her, he kept his Quirk in check.

She really didn't want to find out what it felt like to be on the receiving end of a punch to the face delivered by a hardened fist. A concussion would probably be the least of her worries in that case.

But despite holding back, they still treated their attacks seriously, for training's sake, if nothing else. Case in point, the acid she'd thrown at Kirishima's feet. In a real fight, the acid would have been a lot stronger, and so running over it would have done some serious damage, protective footwear or not. Because of that, he wasn't allowed to do that here, forcing him to back off or try to go around. Whatever he chose, it'd work out in her favor, since her effective range was far higher than his.

That was to be expected, considering she could pelt acid at him till sunrise like a professional baseball pitcher.

When would she run out of acid, you ask? Never—she didn't work at the acid factory, she was the acid factory.

If he backed off, he'd be putting himself at her mercy. And if he tried to go around, he'd probably give himself a better chance, sure, but he'd still have to make his way over while dodging a torrent of acidic missiles. It was basically a lose-lose situation no matter which way one looked at it.

So, imagine her surprise when Kirishima decided to leap daringly over the pool of acid instead, effectively forcing a winning third option into her suddenly not-so-genius lose-lose scenario.

She'd be lying if she said she'd seen that coming. She should have, she really should have. But she didn't.

He just barely cleared the acid pool, hitting the ground hard and falling into a tumble. But, despite that, his momentum barely dropped. Before she could blink, he was back on his feet, his charge having turned into a downright sprint to close the gap between them as a grin of his own split his face.

"You've got nowhere to run!"

"As if!"

Hiding her surprise as best as she could, Ashido moved to create more distance between them, when all of a sudden, a startled yelp left her mouth when she unexpectedly collided with something solid, rather than empty air.

She hissed at the dull pain in her lower back, then twisted to try and see whatever it was she'd bumped into. And as soon as she did, she couldn't keep the color from draining from her face when she saw that Kirishima had actually been right.

She'd been so focused on him, and him alone, that she hadn't paid enough attention to her surroundings. And so, stupidly, she'd gone and backed herself into a corner. With Kirishima on one side and a wall of junk on the other, she was basically trapped. Trying to slide past him with her acid was an option—she'd done it just earlier and it'd worked out—but that'd been a closer call than she'd like to admit. Frankly, she didn't know if she could do it again without screwing up.

"Shoot, shoot, shoot!" she whined, her once brimming confidence replaced with a sudden nervousness. But, then she remembered that Kirishima was still coming at her, and she forced herself to settle into a stance, her raised hands already coated in a thin layer of acid. "Well, only one way but forward, right?" With a shaky smile, she charged forward.

Might as well go down swinging, right?

With a cry, Ashido swung her arm, unleashing a wide spray of acid. Kirishima leaped to the side, barely putting himself out of harm's way. He landed roughly, but before he could recover, another batch of acid was already flying at him.

Kirishima threw himself aside again, rolling across the ground and flinging himself to his feet. Instinctively, he raised a hardened hand as soon as he was upright again, barely managing to bat away another wad of acid that would have smacked him in the face. The action awarded him a lightly burned palm, but otherwise, he'd spared himself from any real injury. Something between a growl and a hiss left his lips, and suddenly, once again, he was coming at her as fast as he could.

Ashido cocked her head to the side, allowing Kirishima's fist to sail past her as he struck out. It was a damn close call, too. Any slower and it would've knicked her ear or even the skin on her cheek. She ducked under his next swing, a backhand that, had it connected, probably would have ended the fight right then and there.

He might not have been as fast or as agile as she was, but if there was one thing Kirishima had in spades, it was incredible strength.

She threw herself back to give herself some room to breathe, then baited a kick; his foot sailed past her as she juked him out, abruptly changing directions. Meanwhile, something like a hysterical, and maybe even slightly terrified, giggle escaped her throat.

Kirishima pivoted suddenly, and he struck out with his other leg. Too bad for her, she didn't see it coming in time, and she let out a yelp again as his heel crashed into her side.

The force of the blow knocked her off her feet, but as she fell, twirling through the air, she struck out with a hand, splattering acid across his bare chest.

She hissed as she hit the ground, wincing at the soreness in her side, but the distinctly masculine yelp that filled her ears made up for the pain, even if only a little.

Even though it hurt, Ashido forced herself to move, striking out with her foot. While the appendage itself hit nothing but air, a weak jet of acid shot out from her sole and lobbed through the air. She saw Kirishima try to dodge out of the corner of her eye, and to his credit and her dismay, he mostly succeeded. All she managed to accomplish was a light burn to his forearm.

And then he was running at her, a feral grin on his cock-sure face.

Ashido tried to spring to her feet, but she slipped on her own acid in the process, which sent her crashing back down to the floor with a grunt. By the time she'd managed to struggle to her knees again, it was already way too late.

"Wait," she shrieked, a hand held out instincitvely—as if that would stop him from bowling her over. "Wait, wait, wait!"

Anything else she might have said was lost when Kirishima slammed into her, his arms wrapping themselves around her torso as she was tackled to the ground.

The impact was beyond rough. Ashido coughed harshly, her head painfully bouncing off of the junkyard floor as she fell, her lungs emptied of air. And while that alone would have been painful enough, Kirishima—big, muscular, and most importantly, heavy Kirishima—falling right on top of her just made it worse, effectively turning her into a human sandwich as she found herself flattened between a rock and a hard place.

By the end of it, she was left a groaning, moaning, and wheezing mess as she lay on the ground, covered in bruises that ached fiercely, with Kirishima gasping for breath atop her.

"I... I did it..." Kirishima eventually said, his voice breathless and quiet. "I won..."

And despite it all, Ashido couldn't stop a smile from growing on her face.

"Y-You... sure did," she huffed. "Good... Good job, Kirishima. I knew you... I knew you could do it..." she said as her arm came up and lightly slapped at his shoulder. "N-Now, come on. R-Roll over. You're... sort of... crushing my... my boobs. Ow..."

He stiffened suddenly with a jolt, and although the abrupt movement made her hiss, she couldn't keep from snorting as she imagined the look on his face.

"Y-Yeah, sorry," he squeaked out quietly.

"I-It's okay... Just hurry up... This is starting to hurt..."

Slowly—and probably painfully, considering his burns—the lummox she was happy to call her friend pushed himself off of her and sprawled himself across the ground beside her with a heavy sigh.

"T-There you go," she huffed airily. "Ugh, thanks..."

"You okay...?"

"Y-Yeah. I think so... You're... really heavy, though... How about you? I tried to be careful, but I probably burned you more a bit than I meant to..."

"I-I'm okay," he huffed. "Tired mostly, but... Man, your acid really stings..."

She winced. "Sorry..."

"Hey, no sweat," he said with a light chuckle. "I think I got a little careless at the end there, as well. So I guess we'll call it even. Sorry about landing on, ugh... Your, um... You know..."

It took her a hot minute to get what he was talking about, but the second it clicked, she burst out laughing. "Oh my god, it's fine!"

"Are you sure...?"

"Yeah, why not? No harm, no foul, right?"

She watched him visibly relax as a sigh of relief flew from his mouth. "Y-Yeah, I guess so... "

As the last of her snickers died down, Ashido settled for just... lying there. She stared up at the sky, watching the clouds drift past overhead, and just let herself breathe, basking in... well, everything, really.

She was tired, sure, and basically every inch of her body ached, but, in a way, she felt good. Satisfied.

"We've... come a long way, huh?" she heard Kirishima mumble, and she let out a hum of acknowledgment.

"Yeah, we... we really have." Then, she smiled. And she made sure to meet his eyes before she spoke. "Especially you. Out of the two of us, you've grown a lot more than I have."

Over the months, ever since she'd dragged Kirishima off and asked him to start training with her, they'd been going at it—training and studying like their lives depended on it—almost every single day.

They'd both grown in more ways than one. In Ashido's case, though she'd improved in quite a few areas, her Quirk had grown the most.

While still far from perfect, her Quirk control had improved by leaps and bounds. Most importantly, she didn't need to worry about losing control and melting through something she hadn't meant to! She still had to watch herself, though, especially if she was using her Quirk to try and do multiple things simultaneously, but, for the most part, she was finally free!

Her days of accidentally destroying gym equipment were finally over!

Though her increased control was arguably her greatest achievement, that wasn't the only thing she'd managed to improve. Far from it, in fact. On top of her control, her Quirk was so much more versatile now, way more than it'd ever been!

At first, she'd only been able to throw her acid after she'd gathered up a decent amount in her hand. Now, though, she could actually shoot her acid out of her skin instead of just secreting it, increasing her area of effect by a lot. Granted, she couldn't shoot her acid very far—it was sort of like shooting water from a squirt gun, to be honest—but she was more than capable of spraying her acid over a wide area in her vicinity like this, as she'd demonstrated earlier when she'd tried to block Kirishima off during their spar.

Though she'd always been able to secrete acid from any part of her body—arms, legs, torso, even her mouth, if she wanted—secreting it from her hands had always been the easiest for her to do. But for some reason, it'd been super hard for her to consciously secrete her acid from two separate areas—like her hands and feet—at the same time. Not without losing control and melting through the floor, anyway.

It'd taken time, and a frankly stupid amount of effort, but eventually, she'd managed to figure out how to use her acid to slide around on her feet and shoot wads of acid from her hands at the same time, which she'd promptly shown off to Kirishima by spraying down a couple of target's he'd set up for her.

Mobile. Acid. Factory. How cool was that?!

Unfortunately, her newfound mobility had the unforeseen consequence of putting her into a class of her own, and she'd accidentally ended up having outpaced Kirishima.

Don't get her wrong, Kirishima's Quirk was strong—extremely strong, actually—but, to put it bluntly, he was a bad matchup for her. Ashido had already been faster than him without factoring in Quirks, so if she added in the extra mobility her own Quirk provided her, then... Kirishima just couldn't keep up.

If she wasn't actively handicapping herself, their spars would usually turn into games of one-sided dodgeball, with Kirishima desperately trying to dodge anything she threw at him while attempting to chase her down.

Although, they'd soon realized that, inadvertently, they'd created a pretty effective training exercise for him.

Since Kirishima's weaknesses lay in his poor speed and poorer stamina, forcing him to chase after her while avoiding her acid attacks had actually turned out to be a pretty amazing way to improve both.

Suffice it to say, Kirishima had improved quickly, and since, unlike her, he'd been effectively starting from zero in every aspect, his growth had been downright explosive.

Over the months, he'd gone from being a pretty normal-looking guy to an absolute beefcake! He'd put on so much muscle that it wasn't even funny! And his strength had shot through the roof!

He even had a six-pack now! How unfair was that?!

And despite all the muscle he'd put on, Kirishima had become much faster than he'd once been, and he could run for a lot longer now, too. She'd still beat him in a long-distance run or a sprint pretty easily, no doubt about it, but he'd closed the once massive gap between them by a hefty amount.

Ahsido hummed. "You're still a slowpoke, though."

"Dammit, I told you to stop calling me that!"

The sudden slap to her shoulder had been expected and deserved, but as she lay there laughing her ass off, the only thought on her mind was that the look on his face had been totally worth it.

When it came to the improvements he'd made with his own Quirk, they were just as, if not greater, than the strides he'd made concerning his other physical attributes.

Ironically, despite his Quirk being called "Hardening", it had been sort of... squishy at first.

When they'd first started training, Kirishima hadn't been able to effectively harden more than a single body part at a time, which just so happened to leave the rest of his body exposed. He'd been able to spread his Quirk out across his body, sure, but doing so had led to a dramatic decrease in his Quirk's strength. And even then, his Quirk hadn't even been that strong in the first place. A couple hits with something sturdy, like a bat or a pipe, had been enough to make his skin chip and crack, and that'd been with his Quirk concentrated. It also hadn't helped that keeping his Quirk up for longer than short bursts had tired him out pretty quickly.

Now, though, it was like she'd noted earlier. Kirishima's Quirk was strong. Really damn strong. On top of being able to keep his Quirk up for much longer now, the strength of his hardening had shot up similarly to his actual physical strength. If he pushed himself, he could keep both his arms and even parts of his torso and face hardened for as long as thirty minutes! That time limit went down quickly depending on how much damage he took in a fight, but still, that was insane all on its own!

Ashido remained unrivaled when it came to speed, mobility, and range. But when it came to strength and durability, he'd grown so much that she couldn't even hope to match him.

"I'm super proud of you, dude," she said once her laughter dwindled. "Seriously, you've put in so much effort! It's insane!"

"You think so?" he asked, bashful and proud, all in one. "It's still so hard to believe, even now. That we've come so far..."

"I get you, I really do. I'm... honestly not sure I could've imagined this either, even ten short months ago. But... We did it. We really did it. All that training, all that work, the effort... It's all led us here."

"I'm... sort of nervous, to be honest..."

Ahsido giggled. "Yeah?"

"Well... It's like you said. We've been at this for... nearly ten months. This was our last training session before the UA entrance exam. We've done all we can. I just... I hope it'll be enough."

Ashido reached out, laying a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Hey," she said softly. "Don't go doubting yourself. You'll do fine; I know you will. We'll both take that exam tomorrow, side by side, and we'll pass it together."

"Thanks, Ashido. That... That actually means a lot. You always know what to say to make me feel better."

"You know, you can call me Mina if you want," she offered suddenly, delighting in the startled look on his face. "I mean, I feel like we've been friends for long enough. Why not call each other by our given names, right?"

"Y-Yeah, I... I guess we have, haven't we? Alright, then. But only if you call me Eijiro as well."

Ashido grinned, cheeky and cheerful all in one. "I'd be happy to!"

"You know, I... I'm not sure if I've said this before, so... I guess I'll say it now. Mina... I'm really glad you're my friend."

And the way he'd said it, so earnest, so genuine, all with a light smile on his face... For some reason, it...

It made her heart skip a beat.

"Yeah," she said quietly, a warm, happy smile on her face. "Me too."


A/N: So, you made it! Again, I really hope you guys enjoyed this. I put more work into this chapter than any of the previous chapters in this fic, so if you guys did like it, I'd appreciate it if you'd let me know!

Last chapter, I mentioned that this chapter would likely involve the entrance exam. And, yeah, I had originally planned for it to be about just that, but whatever I wrote just felt rushed, and I couldn't shake the feeling that I was skipping over a bunch of stuff. So, I decided to take a step back and save the entrance exam for next chapter.

Another reason I decided to write this chapter the way it is was because of Ume's mom. I've always wanted her to be an actual character rather than just a plot device to fuel Ume's motivation to be a hero, so I tried to focus on her and give her a bit of depth. You guys can tell me if you think I succeeded or not. That, and also Ume had some unresolved stuff from last chapter, so I wanted to address that here. Honestly, I'm really happy with how it eventually turned out.

And even though they're a relatively minor part of this chapter, I didn't want to disregard Ashido and Kirishima either, so I gave them a fun little scene that detailed their improvements and had them actually train a bit, so they didn't just get magically stronger later.

I'm fairly confident I'll actually be able to write the entrance exam next chapter, though, so be prepared for that.

Pretty sure that's everything this time. I mentioned it earlier, but I'ma say it again: Feedback is very much appreciated! Lemme know if I suck or not, so I can stop sucking if I do. That said, I'll see you all next time!