Chapter Text
The days were stretching longer for Fuyumi, growing increasingly difficult to grade a paper or attend a parent-teacher conference, the stress of balancing her work and personal life becoming overbearing. She didn’t know how some people did it, Fuyumi wanted to know what made someone so relaxed when there’s a boulder coming at them. At least she had a break to look forward to.
Natsuo and her had events planned out during her stage of moving Sako’s stuff away, they ended up putting it back and even fixing a picture of them she broke accidentally. Soon enough the apartment looked homely again, like two people lived there instead of some heartbroken girl who waited at the door for her boyfriend like a kicked puppy. But it still felt empty, it lacked the slow dancing and watching movies that ranged from noir mystery to cheesy romcom.
Fuyumi sighed through her nose and turned the key to her apartment, clicking it open and letting the cold air hit her face. Empty, no “I’m back,” for a voice to reply with “I’m shoulder,”. She experienced a pang in her chest as it dawned on her that she could barely remember his voice.
And how stupid she felt for not finding out his identity sooner! It was in her face and she didn’t know the voice, mannerisms and his name! The traveling around was for villainy, not design. After the night she found out, she began to research.
She purchased every book, read every article and watched every documentary about Oji Harima, every little detail mattered. He never told her, why should he? He probably just wanted the Todoroki money and he’d divorce her the second he got his share. She scrunched her nose up at the idea.
He killed, stole and kidnapped, yet he acted so generously to others. Maybe just a performance? She dated- no, fell in love with a villain and didn’t even know. Now that she knew, she saw how Shoto was correct about his suspicions and that it wasn't just brotherly hostility.
Cramming in the issue with Da- Touya, her boyfriend and brother were literally coworkers. Her dad was still out fighting for Midoriya, her worry increasing while the rest of her family lay in the shadows. Mom kept seeing that jean guy, he visited her every Sunday and brought new kinds of tea bags and flowers.
Natsuo was still in med school, he mentioned his grades were falling, though, since the whole Touya thing. Fuyumi’s boy troubles weren’t as important as his grades. They were important to her, however. Each day that passed, the anger doubled and the anxiety tripled.
She tossed her bags and lump of supplies onto her table, not bothering to even properly take her sweater off and crashed onto the couch. She had responsibilities, but what was the point? All she could think about was him and how he kept his double life away from her.
A number of questions that fell on unresponsive ears. Mr. Compress wasn’t active in the news either, but the Tartarus inmates who targeted Shoto’s friend, Bakugou, certainly were. Where was he?
Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she lazily took it out, unlocking her screen and pressing the notification. It was from dad. She sat up and skimmed it over. ‘FUYUMI. I AM WORKING LATE.” In all caps.
She snickered at it, his sausage fingers probably held down the caps lock. She typed back a reply; “Okay! See you another time. I’m going to the post office, anything you need?” The bubble on screen floated for a minute before it became actual text. “NO.”
Typically, most of the mail he got were from fans or people who hated him, they used to clog up the old Todoroki household. It was one of the many, many reasons she had that she was glad to be out of there. She checked the clock, 8:00 pm. Damn, the post office closed at 8:30. If she wanted to make it, she’d have to run. She grunted and swiped her purse, walking out of the door that she just entered.
…
If Fuyumi thought she couldn’t get any more distressed, she proved herself wrong by immediately knocking into a woman while barely making the clock. The blow had her glasses strewn across the floor and the woman yelped. Fuyumi hastily got up and took them off the concrete, reaching out to help the other girl up.
“Oh, sorry! Let me help you.” She apologized and the woman grasped her hand, letting herself be pulled up. She smiled and went to pick up her glasses, no, spectacles, and found Fuyumi’s ones in the process.
“Are these yours?” The woman asked, Fuyumi nodded and laughed awkwardly, putting them back on her face. “It’s no trouble, by the way,” she commented.
“I hope so, uh, here,” Fuyumi pushed the door open for the two of them, the lady bowed in thanks and walked in and Fuyumi followed soon after. She waved to the employee behind the counter, he lit up and recognized her.
“Ms. Todoroki! Your inbox has some new kindsa letters, might wanna check ‘em.” He called.
“Thanks!” She replied. The woman beside her stiffened and her eyes blew wide and she tapped Fuyumi’s arm.
“Fuyumi Todoroki?” The blonde repeated, spectacles glinting in the overhead light. Fuyumi hummed affirmatively. She was used to people recognizing her in public, mostly asking about her brother or father, it wasn’t like she didn’t mind. She knew the drill and forced a polite grin. The older woman gasped and pulled something from her coat pocket- a letter. No stamps, no address, just titled in neat handwriting to one ‘Todoroki Fuyumi’.
“How’d you get that?” She asked skeptically, the hair on the back of her neck raising.
“I mean no harm I promise, I just found it on the floor and saw your name.” She explained, though a little bit of shock and possibly glee remained in her expression. She placed the letter in Fuyumi’s hands, tipping her head so that blonde hair fell on her face. “Have a good day, ma’am.”
“Thanks..?” Fuyumi answered, still befuddled. What just happened? The lady brushed past her and got her things from the awaiting counter, shuffling out of the office without another word. Fuyumi glanced down at the letter.
“Nothing on it, should I open it?” She muttered to herself and looked to see the other letters addressed to her were ready. Probably just junk, she concluded, and bunched it in with the other letters. She paid and left, stuffing all but one into her purse. The envelope was scented, it smelled sterile, like a hospital.
L “It better not be some secret admirer, I don’t have time.” She mumbled, curiosity getting the best of her and she peeled it open.
Inside was a slip of blank paper with neat, cursive writing. Fancy, cursive, flashy writing that you’d see on playbills. His handwriting. She nearly dropped it and she hadn’t even properly acknowledged the words written, her hands shook so hard and her heart raced a mile a minute.
He wrote to her. He was alive. He missed her. He was alive. He didn’t leave her. He. Was. Alive. Fuyumi’s mind was in overdrive, she held the folded writing up and frantically read in an excited, terrified manner.
...
My dearest Fuyumi,
I am unfortunately unable to visit you at the moment. I’m forbidden to say anything about where I am or how I got here. What I can say though is that I miss your beautiful smile and infectious laugh, but do not fret my starlet. I shall return when the time comes, simply promise me you will look after everything for me.
I must tell you something I’ve wanted to say since our first nights together. I’m sorry. Sorry for everything, for the secrets and lies and the pain I’ve caused you. I wish I said this earlier, but I love you. I love you more than the stage and the sound of applause, more than the stars in the sky. I love you with everything this simple man can offer, and I bestow my thorn stricken heart to you, my love.
Choose to let it bleed out or wrap it in cotton bandages, whatever you do, it will not stop loving you. I will not stop loving you. I hope to see you again soon.
- With all my life, Atsuhiro.
…
“Holy shit.” She whispered, sobbing at this point and having to lean on the alley wall nearby to hold her weak knees up. She hiccuped and read them over again and again, his words piercing her heart and making it bloom all over again. “Holy shit holy shit holy shit.” He was alive.
She clutched the letter to her chest, breaking down into pitiful cries and laughing at the same time. Relief and anger and sadness washed over her like a crashing wave. She’d been in the shallow end for so long and now she found some hope. Sako was alive, he didn’t leave her. But where in the world was he? She was too emotional to even remember that he was a villain because he was back.
She found him.