From Distant Lands - Juro's Return

Chapter Eleven

My grandfather's house feels cold and empty without him as we make our way inside and I pause in the foyer after taking off my shoes, looking around the place. Grandpa loved photos and he has hundreds of them all over the walls and shelves, some framed and others pinned or pasted into books... looking at all of them makes it hard to keep it together.

"You okay, Dad?" I ask him softly as he walks inside. He doesn't look back at me though or acknowledge that I've spoken. Instead, he walks back to his room and gently shuts the door behind him, leaving me in silence. I swallow hard. Yeah... I expected something like that. I take a deep breath and walk over to the couch, sitting down and trying to make myself comfortable somehow. I'm supposed to be patrolling today, based on my own math calculations it would've helped out a lot with this month's bills, but I can't afford to leave my father right now. Not like this. I lean forward and bury my face in my hands, brow furrowing and jaw clenching.

"Fuck..." I whisper, angry at myself and angry at the world. For just a second, I really thought that we could get away with it... that my family could start to feel safe for once. But without even seeing the proof, without even enough evidence to truly convict the man responsible, I know it was Juro. I know he had to be behind it. He's responsible for my grandfather's death just as he was responsible for my mother's... but a voice at the back of my head urges me to think about it. I know what Endeavor would say... it's a coincidence. Another ploy to get my attention. But my grandfather was killed in cold blood. This is more than a ploy, more than some desperate attempt to get my attention. This was a cold and calculated move made to unravel me completely. I can't let it. I get back up, hands clenched into fists as I begin to pace. It used to be that when I would become unsettled, my grandfather would always try to sit me down and make me food, anything to ease the anxiety, but he's not here now. And he won't be here ever again.

At first, I can feel the energy within me starting to bubble up and fester. My initial reaction has always been to lash out and attack, to face my problems head on with force and bury them beneath the weight of my quirk, but that's what Juro wants. He wants me to act on impulse and come for him... I won't do that this time. I halt in my pacing and look up at Grandpa's wall again, eyes catching on a picture from what feels like a century ago. It's a photo of just him and me after he won a cook off during his visit to the states. He's smiling, letting me hold his gold medal as I strike a proud pose... I was maybe ten years old in the picture, but the memory of that day comes back as clearly as if it happened yesterday. If it were someone else that'd died... if someone else would've been taken... Grandpa wouldn't want me storming through the place as angry as I am.

Sit, Kaida... eat. You can be a hero tomorrow. Today... take care of your heart. I feel the anger deflate out of me instantly, my muscles relaxing ever so slightly and my heartrate slowing. I immediately turn away from the wall of photos and head into the kitchen, opening up the cabinet and searching for something to make. It's the first thing Grandpa would've done and once I find something, I fire up the stove and start to cook. It's the only thing I had in common with the old man... it just sucks that I had so little time to share the hobby with him. Still, I wonder how he'd feel if he saw me now in his kitchen, only hours after his death, cooking for my father. Would he be proud?

After some time passes and I've finally got a decent smell wafting through the house, I hear my father's door open again. I look up right as he walks into the kitchen, an exhausted look on his face.

"Hey... how are you feeling?" I ask him, earning a worn smile.

"I almost thought Grandpa was in here" he says quietly, making my chest hurt. I look down at the pot of stew, eyes watering just a little.