𝐀𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧' |𝐭.𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐤𝐢

43- dates, dates, and dates!

Your friends didn't mention everything. They smiled too wide when you asked certain questions. They changed the subject when you got too close to something.

Or someone.

You asked Hawks once, teasing, "Did I have a boyfriend or something before this?"

He chuckled, ruffled your hair, and said, "You? Please. You were married to the job."

But his eyes didn't meet yours when he said it.

⸻

You sat on your hospital bed, legs dangling over the edge, muscles tired from another full day of rehab.

Your fingers toyed with the chain around your neck.

The necklace had always been there. Even when you first woke up from the coma, weak and broken, it was already resting against your chest, tarnished, scratched, but oddly comforting.

A simple silver pendant shaped like the number 7. You'd asked the nurses about it once. No one knew where it came from. They assumed it had sentimental value, so they never removed it.

As you rolled the charm between your fingers, you held it up to the light and squinted. And you noticed there was a faint, nearly invisible letters carved into the side.

"Shimura."

The engraving was so fine it could have been mistaken for a scratch. But it was deliberate.

Shimura.

The name did nothing for you. No spark. No memory. Nothing familiar. Just more blank space in your mind where a story should have been.

Despite not remembering, you kept the necklace.

Eventually time flew by. Before you knew it, seven months in a coma, and four months of therapy. Almost a full year of aching muscles, haunting dreams, and the slow, painful process of learning how to be alive again.

And today, was finally your discharge date.

The sun was bright that day, it was late spring and summer was right around the corner.

You walked without assistance now. Not perfectly, your balance still tilted when you were tired, and some mornings your legs ached so badly you wanted to scream. But you were strong. You had earned every step.

Hawks came to see you off.

"You're officially free," He teased. "No more sponge baths or sad jello. Time to rejoin the real world."

Aizawa stood a few feet away, watching silently. He didn't say much, as usual, but his gaze lingered on the necklace you still wore. You hadn't taken it off once.

⸻

You immeditely began work right away, Aizawa insisted for you to take a small vacation, but you wanted your mind busy. Because those moments you weren't doing anything, you would get waves of sadness, loneliness, like a part of you was missing. And worst of all, there was nothing you or anyone could do about it.

One quiet evening after hours, you were restocking the medical cabinet when a box slipped from your hands, scattering bandages across the floor.

Bandages, with a chibi version of you printed on them.

You froze.

Near the back of the cabinet, tucked away like something forgotten, sat a neat, unopened box. The white and blue design stood out against the dull gray wood. You reached for it, fingers trembling slightly.