𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 - 𝙷. 𝚂𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚘𝚞 𝚡 𝙾𝙲

Chapter Eighteen

When Mae hobbled into the kitchen the next morning and saw how puffy Kazumi's eyes were, it was obvious something had happened, but she couldn't pinpoint what it was. Her daughter placed her plate of eggs and toast on the table in front of her before she sat down with only a cup of coffee. Mae tossed a piece of her toast in front of Kazumi, "You need to eat, kiddo."

Kazumi used her index finger to push it back toward Mae as she took another sip of coffee. She didn't feel anything other than numbness, which she found preferable compared to how crushed she felt yesterday. "What happened, Zuzu?" Mae sighed, pulling one of Kazumi's hands into her own.

"It's not worth talking about, Ma." Kazumi downed the rest of her coffee and got up to place her cup in the sink. She kissed the top of Mae's head before she grabbed her purse by the door and told her mother that she loved her.

Kazumi drove to work, she put her time in, and she went home to sleep. She didn't have the energy or mental capacity to do anything other than the bare minimum that she had to. Each step she took felt like fifty, each breath she took hadn't felt deep enough, and each time she spoke there was nothing to her voice other than monotony.

Shinsou, on the other hand, felt everything intensely. He continued to defeat villains by hand rather than with his quirk but just like last time, it hadn't helped like he hoped it would. Though he wasn't one to smile often, except in the company of Eri or the Nakamura's, the frown on his face spoke volumes to Shinsou's mentor.

Aizawa was concerned, very concerned. He knew that Shinsou screwed up with Kazumi the moment he heard the man lie to her about something so important but it was clear his intentions were pure of heart. While he hadn't been particularly fond of Kazumi, after hearing more about how hard she works to support her family he started to warm up to the idea of her being around.

After Shinsou had left his apartment the previous night, leaving both himself and his husband on the couch, Hizashi spoke up, "Do you think she's going to forgive him, Shota?"

"When I saw them together Shinsou wasn't subtle with his affections, which she seemed responsive to. I don't think I could accurately answer that question because I don't know what her attachment is like."

Aizawa ran a hand through his long black hair and glanced over at Hizashi, "Eri thinks it's just as strong on both sides but she hasn't seen them together for some time now." The blonde hummed, "He really does care about her."

"He has a bleeding heart, it's why he's a hero. What if he's just trying to save her and there's no real attachment underneath that?" Yamada flopped over into Aizawa's lap and when the ravenette started running his hands through the blonde's hair he sighed, "Do you genuinely think that's true with her?"

"No, but it makes the most sense." Aizawa simply replied, twirling a strand of golden hair between his fingertips. Hizashi sat himself back up and placed a soft kiss on his husband's lips, "Love doesn't always make sense, Sho."

-

Shinsou went home after work and sat at his dining room table to eat ramen he picked up on the way. It was two days later and he was fighting to use every ounce of self restraint he had to not call Kazumi. Yamada said she'd need time and Shinsou knew he was right.

That didn't stop him from spending his entire day thinking of what he should say to Kazumi and what he could do to make it up to her, but nothing seemed like enough. Flowers were too superficial for a situation like this and a simple apology wouldn't be appropriate either.

The thought of life without Kazumi had his stomach twisting into knots. Knowing she was hurting because of him had his chest tighten to the point where he worried he might be having a heart attack. Shinsou was so angry with himself that even his own reflection pissed him off enough to ram his fist into the mirror above his bathroom sink. As soon as the glass shattered and sliced his skin with what felt like one hundred tiny shards, he cursed loudly and sat down on the cold linoleum and let his misery consume him.