Does that mean... it's all in my head? Shoto-san, Aizawa-san, everyone... They aren't real—
"Ara? You're awake?" A drowsy, raspy voice pipes up above her.
Are you real?
"Sho— Shoto-san?" Lifting her face, Arata glances to the voice direction. Yet, there's nothing. Only darkness.
Is it just my imagination?
And despite the pitch black that fills all of her sight, the voice resounds once again. "Yes. Are you okay? You seem like you're in pain."
"Wait, you— you can see me?"
"... Well, you are in front of me."
Then, I should be able to see you too, right?
But, no matter how hard Arata squints, she can't make out his figure in this total darkness. Her stomach lurches every time she blinks and finds that nothing has changed. Still no Shoto in front of her. It slips into her mind that she can't possibly see something—someone—that actually isn't there.
You can see me... yet I can't see you. Why? Why, Shoto-san...? Is it because I'm still awake?
If I slept, would I be able to meet you and Aizawa-san? If yes, I...
"... don't want to wake up..." Sighing, she slumps her head back on top of her knees. "It's all just a dream..."
Even so, if you both are there, please... let me stay with you.
"Ara? What's wrong?"
Everything. "Shoto-san, y— you're not real... but I keep hearing your voice... Am I— Am I going crazy?"
"What are you talking about? I'm right here, Ara. Of course you can hear me."
Here where? I can't see you. I'm trying so hard, but I can't... There's nothing here...
"No, you're not, Shoto-san," Arata croaks out. "I— I can't, it's all in my head... I'm just... dreaming everything up..."
"You really can't see me?"
"How can I? You're not— You're not real..."
All of a sudden, a table lamp on the nightstand turns on, illuminating their hotel room with a soft, yellowish light. The sudden brightness is a bit invasive, and Arata has to blink repeatedly before she can recognize the person in front of her.
"What about now? Can you see me?"
"S— Shoto-san...? But, aren't you..."
Shoto is standing in front of her, dark circles under his dull eyes. The left part of his dress shirt is torn, the edges singed like charcoal. He plops down beside her, and she flinches when his fingers make contact with her hand.
"I'm as real as you can be."
"I'm..." Arata murmurs, slipping one hand under his palm, relishing in the warm comfort it provides. "I'm not imagining this?"
"Of course not." His gaze softens as she comes out from the blanket and inches closer to him. Is she checking if he's real or not? "Your night vision just sucks. And, are you feeling confused or dizzy?"
"... I think so?"
"Must be a side effect. The demon injected the sleeping drug into you in an extremely high dose, so experiencing it is more or less inevitable. That's what the doctor said after she healed you."
"Oh..." Arata tilts her head downward, then pauses for a moment at the sight of a thin, bright red thread tied around her ankle. Following where it leads, her green eyes stop at Shoto's left ankle.
A flimsy, thin string. How could I mistake it as a ball and chain?
"What is this for...?" Flashes of her past emerge again in her mind. Grimacing, Arata pulls her hand back, away from his tender touch. "Shoto-san, are you afraid I will..."
"No," he says solemnly, then slides his hand over the sheets and clasps hers again. This time, his hold is more firm, more adamant—as to engrave his trust in her. "Never, Ara."
Shoto rubs the back of his neck before glancing at a tiny box laying on the bedside table, its plastic packaging slightly torn. "I went straight to sleep after the fight, and I just wanted to make sure that if anything happened or when you woke up, I also did. The thread from the hotel's sewing kit was the most practical thing I could think of."
Oh... It wasn't there to restrain me. It was there to assure my safety... Arata smiles wistfully and squeezes his hand. "Thanks, Shoto-san."
"It's for my own peace of mind as well."
"And, um... Shoto-san?"
"Yeah?"
"I remember we were supposed to restore the security system and all that... Has the crisis been averted?" Shoto nods as an answer, and her voice turns somber as she continues, "Did I... sleep through everything?"
"Not everything. Just the last 120 floors and a big fight at the end."
"So... most of it."
"Sort of."
"I'm sorry for having been a burden," Arata sighs, gloomy undertones lurking in her whisper. Her other hand fiddles with the hem of her patient gown. "I tried to help, but... you saw how it turned out. You also ended up having to save me from the demon."
"You got it backwards. You saved yourself, Ara. Technically, we saved the demon from you."
"Ugh, still... I almost did nothing for the mission itself."
"Everyone had their own part." Shoto intertwines his fingers around hers tighter. "I heard from Iida and Midoriya, you jumped down to save Melissa Shield from the demon. And you successfully weakened the demon that Bakugou and Kirishima could incapacitate him at last. Those were your part, and I think they were quite significant."
"Um..." I do wish I could do more, though.
"Don't dwell on it too much. Everyone is all right now."
"So everybody has been freed? I'm relieved."
"Well, not exactly freed."
"Huh? But, didn't you guys defeat the villains?"
"How to say this..." Shoto ruffles his own hair with his free hand. "The entire island is currently under lockdown, Ara."
Arata's green eyes widen, surprised. However, before she can ask him another question, a tiny rumble cuts her off. "Wait, was that...?"
"Yeah, it's me."
Sounds very confident, doesn't he? But, the tips of his ears are turning slightly red that Arata can't contain her giggle from escaping.
"Fine, laugh all you want. I know you're hungry too."
His guess is on point, but Arata doesn't want to give him the satisfaction just yet. "Oh, really? Am I?"
Rolling his eyes, Shoto nods his head to a clock on the wall. "I'm sure you haven't realized because the curtains aren't drawn, but it's noon already. Almost 24 hours since the last time we ate."
"Noon!?"
"Right, so how about this: let's get ourselves cleaned up—separately—then order some food for lunch and I'll explain the situation while we eat?"
"I'm... a little offended you feel the need to emphasize the 'separately' part, but okay."
Shrugging his shoulders innocently, Shoto tells her with a straight face, "Precaution is always better than mitigation."
"I know you quoted it from our heroics textbook, Shoto-san... I can't believe you're using it to tease me."
"Good, you've done your homework well. All Might will be proud."
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Nothing beats a nice shower and good food, especially after a stressful occasion. By the looks of it, it seems that Arata is of the same opinion as him. She is reaching for the soup ladle once more, scooping the steaming nabe into her own bowl.
"This is delicious, Shoto-san. I'm glad you chose it as our lunch. I didn't expect this hotel has a Japanese hotpot on its menu."
Her damp, black tresses—free and untied—flow like a river on her back, the tips surpassing the shoulders. She tucks some loose strands behind her ears, then gently blows on the soup in her spoon.
Tofu and cabbages again, Shoto observes from the corner of his eyes as he sips his own broth, munching on a beef slice that comes with it. She hasn't touched any meat since we started eating. Is she deliberately avoiding it?
The next time her bowl is empty, he takes it from her hand. Arata throws him a puzzled look, yet lets him do it. He grabs the ladle and stirs the clay pot in front of them, furrowing his eyebrows as he examines the remaining contents.
"Which ones do you want, Ara? Beef, pork, or seafood? We still have plenty of them."
"Um... Can I..." Arata averts her gaze from him, distracting herself by poking her empty rice bowl. "Can I get more, um... tofu instead?"
Even without looking at her face, Shoto discerns what she is thinking immediately. She used the same pleading voice yesterday, back in the storage room.
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"I didn't— I didn't eat him!" she clutched his waist tighter, sobbing. "I... I merely bit him... I didn't eat the demon... I didn't swallow his flesh or blood..."
"I know, Ara," he murmured, placing his chin on top of her head. "I know you didn't."
"Please, Shoto-san... Please believe m— me... I don't eat people! I don't— I don't need meat... I'm not a cannibal... I'm not a monster..."
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"Eating meat doesn't make you a monster," Shoto says, voice as calm as usual. He sees Arata dips her head even lower. "Considering the instant healing the doctor did for you, you need proper nourishment, Ara. Meat included."
"Yeah, but..."
"But what?"
Arata closes her eyes and exhales. "Okay, I'll try."
"Good. What about scallops, shrimps, or fish? I bet they're fresh from the sea surrounding I-Island."
"Okay, but only if you take more meat too. To help you build your stamina back up. Yesterday's fights must have been tiring."
"Very well." he takes a portion of meat and adds it to his own bowl before stirring the pot to swiftly catch seafood with chopsticks for her. "Here you go."
"Thank you." Arata smiles to him as he hands her bowl back. "I'll give them a try. Shoto-san, didn't you mention something about the lockdown? Can you tell me more about it? The only thing I know right now is that we can order free food with the hotel telephone."
"Actually, I also don't know much about the lockdown. We only got informed that it is required so a thorough investigation can be held."
"Are we still going home this evening?"
"No, our flight got delayed like everyone else's. Chances are we'll be flying home the day after tomorrow. We have to wait for further announcement on the TV." Shoto clicks a button on the remote, then the television screen shows a series of bulletins. "See? They will put up a new post for every update."
"I see." Arata sets aside her empty bowl on the table, feeling a little down. She wonders if Aizawa will get annoyed because she can't return at their promised time. "Is it okay if I borrow your phone to talk to Aizawa-san later?"
"We can't make a call." Shoto gulps down the rest of his green tea, then shakes his head. "There's no signal. Aizawa-sensei will be able to call here, though."
"Really?" Arata perks up, green eyes gleaming with hope.
"Yeah. Probably around the evening? They said they set up a special way for family members to contact us. I'm not sure about the specifics, but the call will show up on the TV screen. We have to wait for Aizawa-sensei to initiate the call, but I guess this is better than nothing at all."
"Great! That's cool." Arata nods, excited. Her gaze darts to the television, scanning over the screen contents quickly. "Huh, it seems everyone will be interviewed for the investigation?"
"Oh, you're right. Ours is scheduled at tomorrow morning."
"Yeah, and look at this part about available services. It says we also get a free streaming service and a couple of games using this TV. We also can request for a re-supply of the amenities by contacting the hotel receptionist."
"Surely that's the least they could do in exchange for locking us in. Anything else, Ara?"
"Oh, we should leave these dirty dishes in front of our room. The hotel staff will collect them."
"Then, let's start cleaning up," Shoto suggests, his body stretching as he reaches for the tray. A dull throb radiates through his arms, causing his expression to twist in a subtle wince.
Attentive as ever, Arata catches the slight twitch in his expression and turns to him. "Shoto-san? What's wrong? Are you hurt?"
"It's nothing. My arms are just sore because of the continuous physical activity yesterday."
As Arata pry his fingers off the tray, her frown deepens. "Don't mind the bowls. I'll clear them right away. And it's... it's not nothing, Shoto-san... You carried me through 120 floors. Your arms must have hurt a lot. I thought... you got them healed."
"I didn't."
"Why not?"
"We prioritized the injured, and the situation was quite chaotic. Besides, this could heal with enough rest and I simply wanted to sleep."
"Still..." Arata's sigh is heavy with concern as her eyes drift to the tense, protruding muscles on his arms. How could she not notice earlier? She was too focused on everything else that she had forgotten to check on him. "Why didn't you say anything?"
Shoto wants to assure her that he isn't holding her responsible for his condition. But before he can utter a word, her chair rattles as she stands up. And just like that, she begins piling their dirty bowls one by one. All the while without making a sound, only a hard look in her gaze.
How Arata reacts catches him off-guard, like she's almost angry. Maybe she is actually angry, given her lack of verbal response to him. Whatever it is, she has never behaved this way before and he is at a loss of the situation.
"Ara?" Shoto asks warily as he raises from his chair as well. "What—"
"Shoto-san." he can't see her expression because her back is facing him—on her way to put the dirty bowls outside—but he can hear the iron in her calm voice. It is loud and clear despite her not raising her volume. "Can you sit down on your bed and wait a minute for me?"