||Chapter 10 ~ Part 2||

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43 days post the fall of Troy

Momo had never been known for her ability to hide her emotions, so it wasn't a complete surprise when Tokoyami had guessed something had happened between her and Todoroki. However, his decision to confront Todoroki over his presumed assumptions had been too much for Momo to bear. She had cracked, telling him about the kiss and her subsequent insubordination to Todoroki.

Tokoyami had been furious at her, as she had expected. Even after she had apologized, he'd barely spoken to her for days, and had almost completely withdrawn from her.

Now he only spent his time with Asui, helping her around the house or going with her on patrols. The few times they did speak alone, he had only grown exasperated with her.

Momo's lips thinned as she pulled on gloves before picking up a stone mallet and pestle full of dark purple berries. Carefully, she began grinding the berries into a paste.

She had always seen Tokoyami as an older brother — her only family. And she reasoned it was normal for families to fight, but with his pointed comments, Momo had to wonder if he had lost all faith in her.

She pressed the mallet into the pestle harder.

The feeling of their relationship stretching like a thread sat heavy on her consciousness and it made her angry at him, and at herself. She knew she shouldn't have let Todoroki kiss her, but it wasn't like she had done anything wrong, and she had apologized. Tokoyami just didn't believe her.

Another thing for her to fix.

Momo paused and brushed her nose with the back of her wrist. "It smells sweet."

"Sweet but highly lethal," Shouta Aizawa replied in a bland tone. He walked over to the shelves lining the back wall of the small medicine room, and pulled a clay jar from the top. "Two Belladonna berries have enough potency to kill a child. Four or five will cause paralysis and death in a healthy adult."

Momo shivered faintly as she continued to grind the dark, purple berries into a paste.

The windowless room had been transformed into a medicinal stockroom. Shelves lined the walls, packed with pots and tinctures of varying sizes. Bronze tripods had been set up in the corners, providing light. And in the center of the room was a single, wooden table, but no chairs. Aizawa had said that one should never be comfortable when dealing with life and death.

It had been a little over two weeks since Todoroki had kissed her, and she still hadn't apologized to him. She had planned to ask for forgiveness on one of their nightly patrols, but he had been going by himself.

It was somewhat disconcerting. He wasn't acting like she'd expected at all. He hadn't yelled or hit her. If anything he acted like she barely existed. Her heart panged every time she thought about it.

She was being ignored on all fronts.

The extra time added to her schedule — which should have been a blessing and allowed her more sleep — had, in fact, done the complete opposite. With her and Tokoyami's friendship strained, Momo found her dreams growing steadily worse. More violent. More terrifying.

Then, a few days ago, everything had struck her. All her emotions: her anxiety, frustration, stress and the uncertainty over the last month had hit her, and she had ended up approaching Aizawa, begging him to teach her how to brew his various elixirs.

The head of the orphanage was meticulous and, in many ways, unforgiving, but he was a good teacher. And the attention and precision he required of her was a welcome distraction from the restlessness that had settled over her.

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