the day it stopped raining | midoriya izuku

36 | aurora

TOKYO
20°C
CLOUDY

It was the day of her discharge, and Midoriya was more than happy to fetch her home, eagerly taking the bag out of her hands which contain her old clothes. Since the hospital wasn't that far from the apartment, they took the train, only three stops down the track. Masuyo kept herself close to him to avoid slowing the both of them down despite having their hands laced together tightly—she looks up at him every time he subconsciously squeezed her hand, small and soft compared to his, wondering—just wondering if this is what he secretly meant when he once said he didn't want to lose her.

The journey home wasn't that lively—it was quiet; like waiting for the right moment to say everything right, to say everything they need to say. It was almost 4PM when they reached the streets of Neoma and her apartment. And when they entered the lobby, Masuyo realized she didn't have her key card to tap on the elevator.

"I got it," Midoriya assured her, taking out one from his wallet, tapping on the scanner above the button. Masuyo's eyes slightly widened in question. "I...figured that you'd need help getting home. That's why I insisted."

Oh.

She nodded shyly.

As they wait for the elevator and made their way up, it seemed to hit the girl that the last thing she remembered about her apartment was that it was a dreadful mess. Horrifying would be perfect to word it, but it doesn't really matter now. If Midoriya had found her, then he must've seen everything. Then...everything was left to rot.

Masuyo starts to fiddle with her fingers and messes with the dry skin of her lips. Is this what they're going to see after three weeks? What if her apartment smells of blood? Of dirt? When they start walking down the hallway, she glanced up at the back of his head—what would he think? He's seen it when he found her...but did he feel disgusted? What if—

"Home sweet home." Her thoughts were interrupted at Midoriya's gentle voice, not noticing that he had already unlocked the door and opened it. Masuyo stares at him for a moment, and the boy just gave her a reassuring smile. What for?

Swallowing down her anxiety, she slips off her shoes at the entryway, peeking into the hallway that leads towards the—

A small gasp left her lips.

No. It can't be. The last time she stood in the living room; the floor was scattered with broken pots and thrown chairs. She could remember haphazardly stomping on shards as she raged at no one but herself. The...the television...it was supposed to be on the floor...all broken and useless.

It can't be. He couldn't—

Masuyo whips her head towards him. "You—"

"Go on," Midoriya just smiles, an unreadable look in his green eyes.

Tears almost made their way to her eyes. She turns back and walks towards the living room.

It was just like the first time she walked into her new apartment; the new furniture and simple interior. It's as if it was the day she moved into a new chapter of her life in the city, except...things got a little too out of hand. The only thing that's missing was a few pot plants and the television—well, not that she needed one anyway.

Her eyes roam all over everything that's supposed to be a mess covered in blood and scratches, but it's as if the day of the incident didn't happen. Masuyo plops down on the sofa, eyes still looking around, awed in silence. She didn't know what to do, what to say, but looks at the green-haired boy the moment their eyes locked.