Three more days passed in a blur of paperwork and bureaucracy.
Police reports. Follow-up questions. dical assessnts.
Detective Hoshino called twice. Both tis, Yuta stuck to his story. Both tis, the detective seed satisfied—or at least, willing to move on.
The investigations had comnced smoothly. Long story short, the Shie Hassaikai had collapsed.
Without Overhaul, the entire organization fell apart. Most of the high-ranking mbers vanished. Only a handful of low-level grunts were arrested, and none of them knew anything useful.
Kai Chisaki was dead.
And the case was quietly filed away. Yuta’s part was listed as self defense and left as that. No charges. No trial. Just a footnote in an investigation that would probably gather dust in so archive. The aftermath finally brought the boy so sense of relief.
Thankfully, the worst was over.
Three days later, he was discharged from the hospital. His body still ached—every step reminded him of that—but he could move.
He hailed a cab, and headed towards the location his mom had told him.
Ten minutes later, he was here.
[FOSTER FACILITY – LATE MORNING]
The automatic doors slid open.
Yuta stepped inside.
The lobby slled like disinfectant and crayons. A few kids’ drawings were taped to the walls—stick figures holding hands, a sun with a smiley face, a dog with five legs.
The receptionist glanced up.
"Can I help you?"
"I’m here to see Eri," Yuta said. "I called ahead."
She checked her computer.
"Akutami?"
"Yeah."
"One mont."
She picked up the phone, spoke briefly, then hung up.
"Soone will be right with you."
Yuta nodded and stepped aside.
A minute later, a staff mber appeared—middle-aged woman, kind eyes, tired smile.
"You’re here for Eri?"
"Yeah."
"Follow ."
They walked down a hallway. Doors on either side. Soft chatter behind so of them. More drawings on the walls.
The woman stopped in front of a small door.
"She’s inside. She’s been asking for you."
Yuta swallowed.
"Right. Thanks."
He raised his hand to knock.
The door opened from the inside. Eri stood there, blanket draped over her shoulders. Bare feet. Wide eyes. She stared at him for half a second. Then launched forward.
"—oof—hey—careful—"
Her arms locked around his waist as he let out a slight wince. It wasn’t an act. His body still hurt, which was normal after surviving the equivalent of a shredder. The hug of a six year old packed quite the force.
Yuta froze. Then slowly placed a hand on her head. "...Hey, kid." There was no reply. Just trembling. Her forehead pressed against his shirt.
Feeling his clothes growing wet, Yuta sighed.
"It’s alright. I’m not dead yet."
Eri didn’t laugh. Her arms just tightened.
The caretaker stood in the doorway, watching quietly.
"She hasn’t spoken all morning," she whispered.
Yuta nodded without looking up. "Yeah. I figured."
He kept one hand on Eri’s head until her shaking eased. When she finally loosened her grip—just enough for him to breathe—he knelt down a little to et her eyes.
"I’m here," he said softly. "And I’m not going anywhere. Promise."
Her eyes flicked up, searching his face like she was trying to confirm he was real.
"...Okay," she whispered.
It was barely a sound. But it was sothing.
The caretaker stepped back. "You can take her to the common room. Her guardian’s already here."
"Guardian?" Yuta echoed.
The woman smiled. "You’ll see."
---
[COMMON ROOM – TWENTY MINUTES LATER]
The room was small—sofas, a TV on low volu, shelves full of worn-down toys. Eri sat pressed against his side, blanket tugged around her like armor.
Across from them sat Aiko Akutami.
It turns out, Eri’s initial state was worse than he imagined, refusing to talk or open up to anyone. It wasn’t until his mom volunteered that the girl began showing signs of normalcy.
’I should have expected as much.’ Yuta thought watching her.
She had a cup of tea in her hands and a look that said she’d been waiting for this mont. "Yuta,"
"Mom?" he answered, warily. She took a sip. "I’m applying for ergency foster transfer."
Yuta blinked. "You’re what?" For a mont, he thought he heard wrong.
Aiko gestured at Eri with the hand not holding her teacup. "You nearly died for this child."
"I didn’t die," Yuta muttered.
"You almost did."
"’Almost’ doesn’t count."
Aiko raised an eyebrow. "It counts to ."
Eri curled closer at the word "died," so Yuta stopped arguing on instinct.
Aiko continued, calm and matter-of-fact. "She trusts you. And she responds to . That’s more progress than she’s shown with anyone else here."
The caretaker standing by the door nodded. "It’s true. She barely ate until your mother arrived."
Yuta looked between them. "Okay, but adopting soone isn’t sothing you just... decide."
Aiko didn’t blink. "I’ve decided more serious things with less information."
"That’s not comforting."
Before he could press further, another staff mber walked in holding a clipboard.
"Mrs. Akutami, we prepared the preliminary forms you requested."
Yuta’s head whipped around so fast his neck popped. "Forms? What forms? Why are there forms?"
Aiko accepted the clipboard with a polite smile. "I asked for them while you were unconscious."
"You WHAT?!"
Eri flinched. Yuta instantly lowered his voice. "Sorry. But—you WHAT?"
Aiko flipped the first page. "Foster ergency transfers are faster than full adoption. With the proper screening and background checks already done..." She shrugged. "We’re essentially skipping a few steps."
Yuta stared at her.
"You researched this."
"Of course I did."
"While I was in the hospital."
"I had ti."
"This is insane."
Aiko ignored him and continued signing.
The caretaker smiled sympathetically. "Given the circumstances and Eri’s attachnt, the board is willing to expedite the process."
Yuta rubbed his forehead. "I wake up and there’s a whole conspiracy."
"Not a conspiracy," Aiko corrected. "A family decision."
"I didn’t get to decide!"
"You weren’t awake. Whose fault is that?."
".."
He felt sothing tug on his sleeve before he could utter a word. Yuta looked down. Eri was looking back. Staring at him with sothing that might’ve been hope.
He sighed. "...Fine." It wasn’t like he could do anything if he wanted to. Aiko smiled. "Good answer."
__
[A LITTLE LATER]
Once the paperwork discussion wrapped up and Eri was taken for a quick check-in with another caretaker, Yuta leaned back and exhaled.
"You really planned all this."
Aiko shrugged. "You brought ho a traumatized child once before. I assud you’d eventually do it again."
"This is not the sa as that stray cat."
"Debatable."
Before Yuta could protest, a phone buzzed. The staff mber checked it, nodded to them, then said:
"U.A personnel are waiting for you at the front."
Yuta blinked. "...Why?"
"You were discharged today, correct? They said they’re handling follow-up dical support."
His stomach dropped.
"Oh no."
---
[UA INFIRMARY – AFTERNOON]
He hadn’t been back on campus for ten minutes before Recovery Girl was hovering over him with her cane like she was inspecting a faulty machine.
"Terrible condition," she muttered. Bonk. She tapped his forehead. "Terrible."
"I literally just got out of the hospital," Yuta said.
"Barely." Bonk. "Hold still."
Aizawa leaned against the wall, arms crossed, eyebags extra prominent.
Tsukauchi stood nearby taking notes.
Nezu sat on a stool, swinging his legs serenely.
"What an interesting child you are," Nezu said.
"That sentence troubles sir."
"Hold still." She kissed his forehead. Exhaustion crashed into him.
"Tch. Your vitality is strange. It’s healing, but not normally. Your quirk’s doing sothing I can’t fully account for." She tapped her cane. "Don’t run. Don’t lift. Don’t train. Don’t be stupid. Doctors orders."
"...Can we define stupid?"
"Anything you’d normally do."
Yuta squinted.
"I feel targeted." Aizawa nodded. "After what you’ve done. I believe that is accurate."
Tsukauchi flipped a page in his notebook.
"Your statent’s been archived. Self-defense claim is valid. No evidence ties you to Overhaul’s death."
Yuta kept his face blank.
Nezu’s smile sharpened.
"Though your story does have an interesting footnote."
"...Which is?"
"The mystery vigilante."
Nezu steepled his paws.
"White hair. Mask. Scar over the left eye. Quite the description."
"That was the sketch artist, not ," Yuta deadpanned.
Nezu smiled warmly. Too warmly. "We’ll investigate. But as far as you’re concerned. You’re clear "
"That’s good to know."
"Good."
"However, do know that there are seven days left until the Sports Festival. If you’re not fully healed by then, you’re not participating."
Yuta’s face sank.
Nezu hopped off the stool.
"Oh, one more thing. You’ll be attending counseling sessions for trauma processing. Your mother already agreed."
Yuta covered his face.
__
[EVENING – OUTSIDE THE FOSTER FACILITY]
The sky was turning violet.
Eri held his sleeve with both hands. Aiko waited beside her wheelchair, a blanket pulled over her legs.
"Co," she said. "Let’s go ho."
Eri hesitated.
Yuta crouched slightly. "Hey. You’re coming with us. Just for now. Alright?"
Eri’s eyes lifted.
"...Okay."
Soft. But steady.
Yuta felt sothing in his chest loosen.
They boarded the taxi waiting for them.
Aiko cleared her throat. "Seatbelts. Both of you. If you tear open anything again, I will tape you to a bed."
"Mom—"
"Seatbelt."
"...Yes ma’am."
___
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