Koto's POV
(Monday the 22nd)

The screen goes dark. The midday sun streams through my window. 

Is that it? I think sadly, brushing tears from my face. I sit silently for a while, mentally reviewing everything I've just learned. 

GGG was a hero. She was a kind person, a loving wife and mother, and she sacrificed herself for others. Grandma never knew her, but she must've seen this. 

I rewind the video a little ways until I see my young grandmother. The first time I had seen her, I needed to do a double take. Her curly red hair looks just like mine, but the rest of her features are much different. She has a longer nose and a poutier mouth. Though our eyes are shaped the same, hers are a cool, slate grey. 

But the mural of GGG is what I can't get out of my mind. It was beautiful. I can't help but wonder if it's still up today, not that I know where it would be. 

Somewhere in America, my mind whispers to me. So are your parents. And your grandma. And all of them. If only you went looking. 

I look down at my hands, considering my own thoughts when a sudden knock comes at the door, scaring me out of my skin. 

I walk over and open it, letting Mic into the room. "Hey, little listener!" He greets jovially. "I hope you're feeling better! So here's the sitch: because of everything that just happened, UA is building some housing for the students and teachers. Of course it's optional, but I'll have to be in the teacher accommodations, so you'll be in the student ones with the rest of your class! It may not be required, but it's highly recommended and you know Nezu, if he recommends doing something, it's probably the best decision, ya dig?"

I nod. "So I'd be living with 1-A in the dorms?"

"Throughout the rest of school! You still get to come home on breaks and stuff though!"

"Okay," I sign, not really having a problem with it and knowing it's better to trust my principal's judgement. 

"Sweet! Move in is on the 29th, so be ready for then! Most of your classmates have to have meetings with Shota or All Might, but since I'm your teacher, you don't have to do any of that! Anyways, I'll be in the studio for most of today! But right now, I gotta go over to the school to check in on the progress! You down to come?"

I look back to the projector, still showing the moment Liam picked up the younger version of my grandma with a smile on both their faces. Nodding my head, I follow him out of the room. I silently slip on my shoes and walk with him all the way to UA.

As he shows me around where all the dorms will be, I can't seem to get out of my own head. Even as we stand in front of the construction site that will soon be the "1-A Alliance," I can only think about how much I miss home and my life before all this. 

I know Ochaco's parents were put on this project as well, but we can't find them through all the hustle and bustle. When Mic has done sufficient rounds, talking with some of the contractors, he finally deems it time to go home. He only swings by to drop me off and grab his car keys.

"There's food in the kitchen, love you!" He exclaims. With that, he saunters out the door, leaving me once again to my own thoughts. 

I've got a week. That's enough time to get my stuff ready to move and go visit home, right? I just need to see my family. It's been too long and I never knew what their lives were like. I never bothered to ask. Especially not about those who came before like Evie and Ryan and Liam. I didn't even know Grandma had a brother! Is he still alive? Could he tell me anything more? What about Liam? Is there some small chance my great grandfather is alive too?

I play some music and begin packing important things into cardboard boxes, mainly what minimal decorations I have and lots of casual clothes. I fill a box with snacks and the new pack of drinks Mic had bought me that I haven't had a chance to put into the fridge. 

When that's done, I grab my canvas backpack and dump out all my school supplies, packing enough clothes and necessities to last me for a week. I plan to just wear the same two pairs of shorts and switch between t-shirts. I pull out my journal and start thinking of a note to leave. I don't want Mic worrying about me, after all. 

After a lot of deliberating, I decide on:

"Mic, 
"I'll be home before school starts. Don't worry about me.
"Koto"

Sure, it's a little simple, but I don't necessarily want him to find out where I'm going and drag me back. 

For a while, I sit, staring at my room, wondering if it's ever truly felt like home. Of course it's where I'm used to now, but it still doesn't feel like my space. It's like I'm just staying here temporarily, which I guess I am. But I feel like I've been more of an intrusion than anything. 

Stop it, he's your uncle and he loves you. 

But he hasn't been partying as hard recently. I wish he didn't have to worry about me being here all the time. 

I grab my bank card and head to the city, taking out plenty of money for a round trip plane ride and food and housing for a week. If I had brought it to America, they'd be able to access my account and see where I was taking out the money. Of course it's not like I'm hiding, I just don't necessarily want them to come get me. 

After checking once more that I have all my necessities for the week, I tear the note from my journal, placing it on my pillow before adding the book to my bag. 

With that, I take off, heading to the train station to catch a ride to the airport. 

•°•°•°•

(Tuesday the 23rd)

I had to wait a while, since the only seat open on the flights going to America wasn't until later in the evening. So I sat in the terminal, people watching for a long time before I finally got on the plane and took off. 

But now, I just landed back home in America. 

It's been too long, old friend, I think to myself, looking out the window to see the morning sun. 

I take a moment to exchange the yen I brought for American dollars, then pack the money away safely in my bag. 

The moment I walk out of the airport, I have no idea what to do. I just stand there like an idiot for a few minutes, waiting, as if there was someone to come pick me up. I watch as people board buses or get picked up by friends or family members. I see little kids reuniting with their loved ones. Knowing that nobody will greet me like that sends a dagger straight to my heart. 

When I can't watch anymore, I hop into a taxi. "Hawkins, Missouri," I illuse in English when the driver isn't looking in the rear view mirror. He mumbles to himself before starting the meter and taking off. 

The whole two hour ride, I look out the window, reminiscing about all the times I've traveled along these highways. I remember which buildings to expect around each corner and which exits have the best choices for food. 

"Where in town?" The driver asks, rousing me from my thoughts. 

I rummage in my bag so he can't see my mouth staying still as I illuse, "corner of Fifth and Emerson."

He navigates the town, a little quicker than I would've liked, and drops me at the spot I requested. I hand him a small handful of bills and exit the car. I look up at the flower shop, taking in the carved wooden sign that hasn't changed at all, and push open the door. 

A bell chimes as I walk in, immersing myself in the perfumy floral scent. I had only been in here once before, to pick out flowers for my parents' funeral. Today's visit isn't much more exciting. 

I walk between the rows of flowers, examining the premade bouquets before I come across one of white daisies. I pick up the arrangement, quickly checking the price before going to the counter and paying for it. Thankfully I don't have to use my quirk to pretend to talk; the woman ringing me up is talkative enough for the both of us. I hurry out of the shop as quickly as I can and begin walking down the street. The cemetery is only a couple blocks away. 

Time seems to slow down as I approach, as though I'm trudging through quicksand. By the time I reach the gate, it feels as though I've been walking for hours. The grief settles heavy and firm on my heart as I walk between the rows and rows of graves. 

They've been here for years, I can't help but think. With no daughter to check up on them. 

Many stones I pass are covered in flowers or pennies. 

They deserve a daughter who would come and change out the flowers or talk to them. I'm such a disgrace of a child. 

I pass by an older gentleman who takes his hat off as he shakily squats down to the ground, placing roses at the base of a grave. He kisses his hand and gently rests it on the stone. For a moment, we make eye contact. He bows his head ever so slightly, whispering to the ground below him before giving me a sad smile. I may have once seen it as pitying, but it's clear to me now it's stemmed from a dreadful understanding of what I feel. I bow my head in return, but can't manage to smile. 

I walk further down the path before I see the familiar elm tree. From there, I count 8 rows and then walk over, stopping before the 19th stone. 

Hi Mom, I silently say. Hi Dad. I know I haven't been here in a while, but I hope you still recognize me. I sniffle out a laugh as I unintentionally cause myself to worry and take a tissue out of my pocket to blow my nose. 

I hope you still love me, even though I don't feel deserving of your love. I made a mistake. Not even just one; I made so many. And I'm sorry. I don't think I can ever fully express how sorry I am. 

I just want you to know I haven't forgotten you. I live every day trying to be my best for you. I may forget sometimes, my emotions tend to get the better of me. But I want to be a better person. I want to do Evie's name justice as well as your own. Dad, I never got to apologize for my mistake that cost you your life. Mom, I never got to thank you for saving me in the car crash, but you're a hero too. I'll try my best to pay your deed forward. Every day of my life. 

I love you.

I take a breath and lay the daisies at the base of the headstone. The diamond on my mother's engagement ring dangling from my neck sends rainbows across the stone as the light hits it. I sit on the dry grass, fiddling with the ring, and mentally talking with my parents, filling them in on my life until around 2 in the afternoon when the growling in my stomach is too loud to ignore anymore. I reluctantly stand and head back to town. 

I should probably get some food and find a place to stay the night. 

I cross the road after walking a couple blocks to get to a convenience store. I shuffle to the back, looking for prepackaged meals. I'm not exactly in the mood for fast food or making anything myself today, so I grab a couple sandwiches. I'm moving towards the back where the drink coolers are when I hear the bell above the door ring.

I don't pay any mind to whoever walked in until I turn to go to the register and end up face to face with someone I haven't seen in a long time. 

Her sandy blonde hair is tied up in a ponytail and purple tinted aviators hang from the neckline of her grey t-shirt. She clutches a couple packages of Skittles in her fingers, manicured with lavender polish. Her large brown eyes, framed by long, dark lashes, stare at me as we both freeze in place. 

"Kati," I whisper.