ua-momo-archive

[ua-momo-archive]

stop... talking about it...

#press conference

[ua-momo-archive]

                                  “AHEM PLEASE FORGIVE ME! MY ACCOUNT                                    WAS HACKED AND I NEEDED TO REBUILD IT!                                    I WOULD APPRECIATE IT GREATLY IF YOU                                    WOULD CONTINUE TO SPEAK TO ME HERE!”

@ua-list​

#ah so the class president has returned... #i'm glad that there's been someone to watch over the others in my absence... #iida tenya #promos

[ua-momo-archive]

pensieve ask meme 🔮

Send my muse one of the following for a memory.

😥 - A memory in which they cried.

😊 - A memory in which they smiled.

👨‍👩‍👧‍👦  - A family memory.

😔 - A regretful memory.

💓  - An intimate memory.

💔 - A painful memory.

🤐 - A memory they wished never happened.

🖤 - A memory they wish could happen again.

🌟 - Their happiest memory.

💧 - Their saddest memory.

🤕 - A memory in which they were hurt.

😯 - A memory in which someone else was hurt.

🤫 - A memory they keep secret.

#👀👀👀 #oh this looks like fun... #ask.txt

[ua-momo-archive]

A few announcements…

I should be… trying to return to teaching in the coming week. A little late, which I’m sorry for, but at the very least I will attempt to supervise the classes that are still being lead by my wonderful assisstants… @ua-reaper & @ua-kannazuki

I apologize for my absence and how long it’s been. I really should never let personal matters affect how you all are treated… I’ll do my best to ensure that everyone gets what they deserve for the rest of the year and the rest of their education at UA.

Thank you for reading…

#ah. so i see some things haven't changed since i was last here. #i'm glad i didn't miss any of all might sensei's classes. #all might sensei

[ua-momo-archive]

If you could choose anyone to study with in 1-B, mostly on the subject of science, who would it be and why?

Ah, I must admit... It feels like it’s been so long since I’ve seriously studied anything. I’d be thankful if any of them were willing to study with me, all things considering...

#i'm not even sure that any of them would want to SEE ME let alone STUDY with me ha... #anonymous #replies

[ua-momo-archive]

I MISSED YOU I LOVE YOU 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖❤️❤️♥️♥️💓💓💓💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💓♥️♥️♥️♥️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

Ah, yes... I apologize that it’s taken me so long to return to U.A... There were some issues with paperwork and the like, but I’m happy to be back now. Thank you for your continual support. I’ll do my best to ensure that I won’t let you down in the future.

#((baby's so broken i cry)) #anonymous #replies #internship.arc

[ua-momo-archive]

(ua-setsuna) Remember I'm always here if you need to talk, okay... I'm here for you. I'm not mad about anything that happened today so please reach out if you need anyone.

I... I’m sorry for responding to this so late, but... Setsuna... Really... Thank you so much for everything.

@ua-setsuna

#... #you really mean a lot to me #replies #tokage setsuna #princess.arc

[ua-momo-archive]

september 23 | evening

Momo’s been in France for nearly a month now. Today is her birthday, and if her grandfather hadn’t surprised her with a sudden visit, she wonders if she would have forgotten. He’s brought with him an assortment of gifts that had apparently been left for her, as well as some personal ones he had chosen for himself. And when he looks at her, his eyes beam with a certain degree of pride that she doesn’t think she’s seen in ages; he laughs at the sight of her, remarks at how much she’s grown, how much honor she’s brought to her family, what her current actions mean for the current status of the Yaoyorozu legacy... 

And there’s a piece of her that has to hold back tears at his praise because it all feels so, so wrong.

That part of her has grown smaller now though. Nearly nonexistent. In a country far away from her closest friends and family, with only the support of the Hero Commission and her distant relatives to give her any solace, that part of her has whittled away into scarcely anything at all. She wonders if that thought should sadden her.

Touma looks a little uncomfortable for a moment and excuses himself to the bathroom.

When he returns with a noticeable lump in his pocket, there’s a curiosity sparkling in his eyes and he looks at her. Really looks at her. Momo wonders when was the last time someone actually had.

“Sweetheart… Is there something you’re not telling me?”

Momo doesn’t even have the energy to sigh at the question, instead fingering a sparkly green box that sits upon the pile of gifts her grandfather had brought. There’s something about it that holds her attention, but she can’t quite pinpoint what exactly it is. “I have internship duties today, Grandfather. I’m not sure how long I can stay with you to chat.”

Touma frowns, obviously hurt by the answer. “Why, you can’t even take a day off to spend time with your loving grandfather who’s already flown all this way?”

“I cannot abandon my duties, Grandfather. You’re the one who taught me that.”

He says nothing for a moment, leaning back in his chair with a relatively dumbfounded expression on his features. “Well… Yes. I suppose that’s true. It’s important for you to live with the responsibility of your actions. You are the one who wanted to be a hero after all, and now that you’re getting all of these opportunities… It wouldn’t be fair of you to change your mind. After all, people expect a great deal of things from you now, Momo.”

She feels herself shrink in her seat.

“Yes, Grandfather. You’re absolutely right.”

--------------------------

It isn’t until night falls, when she’s said her goodbyes to her grandfather and finished her duties for the day that she finally gets to open that sparkly green present.

#legacy.arc #yaoyorozu touma #internship.arc #diary.txt

[ua-momo-archive]

Left on top of the bundle of presents already left there by other people is a sparkly green package, wrapped with silly wallpaper covered in little lizards and dinosaurs. Inside is a bundle of shirts, a light pink one, a light blue and a black one. The pink one reads "GO CREATI!", the blue "GO LIZARDY!" and the black, a complicated and beautiful graphic of both their names with matching logos. A picture with Setsu wearing the Creati shirt tops it, the back saying "HAPPY BDAY! To you + to us 💚"

[prev.]

Momo opens the gift wrapping carefully, almost smiling at the tiny reptilians that smile at her on the paper. When she takes in the designs of the shirts, she feels something in her chest ache - a feeling that is all at once so distant and yet so, so familiar. A lone tear runs down her cheek as she runs her thumb over the picture of Setsuna wearing the matching shirt.

Within the next hour, she’s resigned from her internship in France and is boarding a plane back to Japan.

@ua-setsuna

#((god i'm so sorry that i've been gone for so long i literally lekrjw;lekr)) #((god i love setsu so much... SO MUCH...) #Tokage Setsuna #internship.arc #replies #princess.arc

[ua-momo-archive]

august 12 | evening.

It’s an awkward situation to say the least.

Mayumi and Ichirou sit at opposite ends of the dining table, doing everything they can to avoid looking one another in the eye. They’ve made it a point to continue acting as though everything’s okay—for Momo’s sake, they continue to insist, though at this point its more for their own than her’s. Appearances have always been their everything and that much shouldn’t have to change. So they continue to play the respective roles of loving husband and wife, doting mother and father, with masks of carefully painted porcelain and smiles that never truly reach their eyes. It’s been fairly easy to do; Ichirou had already been spending nights at the office even before their big fight, and Momo had planned to stay in Musutafu to be closer to her internship. Their interactions have been minimal at best.

Which is what makes this whole thing feel even worse.

They had both been surprised to receive individual calls from the heads of the family’s chauffeur team, informing them that “Miss Yaoyorozu will be arriving at the family estate just past seven—we apologize that she won’t be arriving until after dinner, but this is the best we can do on such short notice. Our sincerest apologies.”

Mayumi had lamented that the news was “most regrettable,” Ichirou had responded that such circumstances were “perhaps unavoidable,” and then they had each hurried to call the other with frustrated demands to learn just what exactly was going on.

Neither one had an answer for the other. And so, really, all they could do was arrange for a caterer to provide the setting of a loving family dinner, sit at their respective places at the dinner table, and wait.

Today was the first official day of her internship.

Momo hasn’t even been working for a full day.

Mayumi can’t help but bite her lip at the thought, consciously doing everything in her power to not sneak a glance at her husband across the table. But she can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking—if he’s rushing to the same conclusion that she is, the only viable conclusion, really, given that Momo’s made the decision on her own to return home and that she hadn’t even bothered to phone ahead to let her parents know.

Ichirou, for his part, has been unable to take his eyes off his wife—and he wonders if its the weight of his gaze that warns Mayumi to never once grace him with even the most sparing of glances, lest they make eye contact and feel obligated to start up a conversation.

It pains him in a way that he can’t quite describe.

Her hair is pulled back in a way that’s he knows is meant to appear somewhat messy, but the way the stray strands of hair frame her solemn features only seems to highlight the gauntness of her cheeks and the dark circles beneath her eyes. The red of her lips is moreso from the way she gashes at them with her teeth than the artificial color of her makeup; in fact, the light application of blush only seems to emphasize the pale pallor of her features. She looks stressed and tired and almost forsaken—and it feels as though it’s been lifetimes since Ichirou last saw her like this. 

But the fact of the matter is that it had only been last November, when news of the attack on U.A. had first been released and they weren’t yet sure if Momo was okay or if they’d lost her forever to the cruel trials of the world.

The door chooses that exact moment to softly click open, and at the subtle break of silence, Mayumi and Ichirou rise to their feet in expectation.

“Momo darling, is that you?”

There’s no response.

“Sweetheart, you’re just in time for dinner!”

Nothing.

Ichirou feels himself stiffen up as a chill runs down Mayumi’s spine. He whips his head back to stare at her once more, a desperate, questioning look in his eyes as he finds himself at a total loss for what to do, unable to understand what it is that’s going on because he fears too strongly what that understanding might mean.

Mayumi doesn’t spare him a glance. And the door clicks shut.

The sound seems to spur her into action, and she scurries out of the dining room without another word. Ichirou finds himself chasing after the crimson silk of her top, turning sharp corners in a desperate attempt to keep her in his sight and to be led to the answers she’s sure to find.

Still standing in the entryway to the parlor is Momo, clad in her hero outfit and an expressionless mask. Her bags are nowhere in sight and her shoulders are slumped forward, as though they’re being forced down by a burden invisible to them all. She stares at her parents, blankly, and when Mayumi rushes to give her an affectionate hug and a kiss on the cheek—as is their usual greeting—Momo flinches back.

She flinches.

An expression of shocked horror consumes her mother’s features as she struggles for the words to say, but it seems that such an attempt is futile. Before she’s even given a chance, Momo simply shakes her head, turns, and walks up the staircase to her room.

For the first time since their fight several nights ago, Mayumi finds herself willingly turning to meet Ichirou’s gaze, eyes wide, desperate.

Ichirou says nothing but the knowing way in which he stares says everything.

Mayumi falls to her knees, grabbing at her hair as her breathing picks up, as her worst fears are all but confirmed and she realizes that her prayers fell on deaf ears—as they always do—and that it really is true…

She’s useless.

(She just wanted to do what was best for her family. 

For her family.

Anything for her family.)

#yaoyorozu mayumi #yaoyorozu ichirou #diary.txt #internship.arc #legacy.arc

[ua-momo-archive]

august 16 | morning

It’s been three days since Momo arrived back home. She hasn’t left her room and she hasn’t said a word since her return. Her parents are forced to leave food outside her doorstep in the hopes that she’ll at least eat something, but their hopes are always dashed.

Until that fateful morning.

Ichirou’s sitting at the table, coffee in one hand and newspaper in the other. It’s just for show, really—he can’t find it in himself to idly read when there’s so obviously something wrong with his daughter and absolutely no way for him to know what it is exactly. 

Mayumi had tried to call the Hero Commission directly to try and get some answers, but even that led to minimal luck: the line had constantly been busy, and even when she did get to speak to a representative, she was simply told that the family would be receiving a personal call from the head of the commission with the finer details, but what she could be told was that there had been an accident during the internship orientation—but nobody had been hurt, not really. Her daughter was perhaps just experiencing some shock but would surely explain herself in no time. There was no need to worry.

No need to worry.

Needless to say, Mayumi had screamed and yelled and threatened the helpless representative, demanding to speak to an actual head of the commission “as soon as fucking possible”—only to be promptly hung up on.

She hadn’t gotten another call through since.

Not wanting to drag her mother into the mess and not wanting to somehow make things even worse for herself, Mayumi’s settled for canceling all further appointments so that she can remain at her vigilant post in her home, waiting—praying—for the moment that Momo will finally come down the stairs. Ichirou, too, has stopped going to work and has been sleeping at the dining room table while Mayumi’s taken the living room sofa; they both know that, logically, there are countless bedrooms for them to choose from… but both fear the possibility that they’ll miss their daughter.

And it really is just Momo that ties the two together at this point, so that’s probably why their personal sleeping arrangements have yet to be brought up. Though, to be fair, they haven’t been saying much to each other at all.

Mayumi’s slumped over the tabletop, absentmindedly watching the steam from her tea drift ever upwards when she sees it in the periphery of her vision: the gentle steps as someone makes their way down the staircase.

She sits up immediately in surprise and, noticing the change in her demeanor, Ichirou is quick to turn his attention to the staircase as well.

Sure enough, there’s Momo: a blanket thrown over the  hero’s outfit she’s yet to change out of and her hair oily and stuck to the sides of her face. She makes eye contact with no one as she takes her seat at the dining room table.

Mayumi’s lips part in greeting, but no sound comes out. From the corner of her eye, she sees Ichirou shake his head at her and, for once, she consciously agrees with his silent warning. Her husband pours Momo a fresh cup of tea from the pot as Mayumi hurries to the kitchen to grab a makeshift breakfast.

Momo finishes the meal in silence. And every time Mayumi tries to break it, she catches Ichirou subtly shaking his head. Her heart surges in her chest as Momo stands up, wishing, wanting to say something but not being able to find the proper thing to say. She doesn’t know where her courage has gone, but it seems that it’s nowhere to be found.

For a few moments, Momo lingers in the entranceway, fingers gripping tightly onto a nearby column for support. She doesn’t turn around when she finally speaks.

“I don’t want to be a hero anymore.”

#((hoo...)) #yaoyorozu ichirou #yaoyorozu mayumi #diary.txt #internship.arc #legacy.arc #queued

[ua-momo-archive]

august 12 | evening.

It’s an awkward situation to say the least.

Mayumi and Ichirou sit at opposite ends of the dining table, doing everything they can to avoid looking one another in the eye. They’ve made it a point to continue acting as though everything’s okay—for Momo’s sake, they continue to insist, though at this point its more for their own than her’s. Appearances have always been their everything and that much shouldn’t have to change. So they continue to play the respective roles of loving husband and wife, doting mother and father, with masks of carefully painted porcelain and smiles that never truly reach their eyes. It’s been fairly easy to do; Ichirou had already been spending nights at the office even before their big fight, and Momo had planned to stay in Musutafu to be closer to her internship. Their interactions have been minimal at best.

Which is what makes this whole thing feel even worse.

They had both been surprised to receive individual calls from the heads of the family’s chauffeur team, informing them that “Miss Yaoyorozu will be arriving at the family estate just past seven—we apologize that she won’t be arriving until after dinner, but this is the best we can do on such short notice. Our sincerest apologies.”

Mayumi had lamented that the news was “most regrettable,” Ichirou had responded that such circumstances were “perhaps unavoidable,” and then they had each hurried to call the other with frustrated demands to learn just what exactly was going on.

Neither one had an answer for the other. And so, really, all they could do was arrange for a caterer to provide the setting of a loving family dinner, sit at their respective places at the dinner table, and wait.

Today was the first official day of her internship.

Momo hasn’t even been working for a full day.

Mayumi can’t help but bite her lip at the thought, consciously doing everything in her power to not sneak a glance at her husband across the table. But she can’t help but wonder what he’s thinking—if he’s rushing to the same conclusion that she is, the only viable conclusion, really, given that Momo’s made the decision on her own to return home and that she hadn’t even bothered to phone ahead to let her parents know.

Ichirou, for his part, has been unable to take his eyes off his wife—and he wonders if its the weight of his gaze that warns Mayumi to never once grace him with even the most sparing of glances, lest they make eye contact and feel obligated to start up a conversation.

It pains him in a way that he can’t quite describe.

Her hair is pulled back in a way that’s he knows is meant to appear somewhat messy, but the way the stray strands of hair frame her solemn features only seems to highlight the gauntness of her cheeks and the dark circles beneath her eyes. The red of her lips is moreso from the way she gashes at them with her teeth than the artificial color of her makeup; in fact, the light application of blush only seems to emphasize the pale pallor of her features. She looks stressed and tired and almost forsaken—and it feels as though it’s been lifetimes since Ichirou last saw her like this. 

But the fact of the matter is that it had only been last November, when news of the attack on U.A. had first been released and they weren’t yet sure if Momo was okay or if they’d lost her forever to the cruel trials of the world.

The door chooses that exact moment to softly click open, and at the subtle break of silence, Mayumi and Ichirou rise to their feet in expectation.

“Momo darling, is that you?”

There’s no response.

“Sweetheart, you’re just in time for dinner!”

Nothing.

Ichirou feels himself stiffen up as a chill runs down Mayumi’s spine. He whips his head back to stare at her once more, a desperate, questioning look in his eyes as he finds himself at a total loss for what to do, unable to understand what it is that’s going on because he fears too strongly what that understanding might mean.

Mayumi doesn’t spare him a glance. And the door clicks shut.

The sound seems to spur her into action, and she scurries out of the dining room without another word. Ichirou finds himself chasing after the crimson silk of her top, turning sharp corners in a desperate attempt to keep her in his sight and to be led to the answers she’s sure to find.

Still standing in the entryway to the parlor is Momo, clad in her hero outfit and an expressionless mask. Her bags are nowhere in sight and her shoulders are slumped forward, as though they’re being forced down by a burden invisible to them all. She stares at her parents, blankly, and when Mayumi rushes to give her an affectionate hug and a kiss on the cheek—as is their usual greeting—Momo flinches back.

She flinches.

An expression of shocked horror consumes her mother’s features as she struggles for the words to say, but it seems that such an attempt is futile. Before she’s even given a chance, Momo simply shakes her head, turns, and walks up the staircase to her room.

For the first time since their fight several nights ago, Mayumi finds herself willingly turning to meet Ichirou’s gaze, eyes wide, desperate.

Ichirou says nothing but his knowing stare says it all.

Mayumi falls to her knees, grabbing at her hair as her breathing picks up, as her worst fears are all but confirmed and she realizes that her prayers fell on deaf ears—as they always do—and that it really is true…

She’s useless.

(She just wanted to do what was best for her family. 

For her family.

Anything for her family.)

#yaoyorozu mayumi #yaoyorozu ichirou #diary.txt #internship.arc #legacy.arc #queued

[ua-momo-archive]

You know, it’s a good thing Momo got the machete at orientation! She can definitely be trusted... right?

@ua-momo

#WOW HOLY SHIT I'M JUST GOING THROUGH MY NOTIFICATIONS NOW AND CAN'T BELIEVE I MISSED THIS???? #RYUU I'M IN SO MUCH LOVE THIS IS SO GOOD I'M???????????? #THAT'S HER!!!! #THAT'S MY BABY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #internship.arc #selfie.jpg #((okay so that's the tag but just IMAGINE momo taking a selfie of herself covered in blood like this UGH))

[ua-momo-archive]

august 12 | afternoon.

Touma doesn’t like to involve himself in the particulars anymore; as a retired CEO, he likes to imagine that such tasks are his son’s responsibilities.

But he’s always believed that if you ever want something done properly that you have to do it yourself.

Although a part of him is annoyed at his son’s ineptitude, Touma would be lying if he said that he actually minded having to sift through the company’s confidentials to try and brainstorm a way out of their financial situation. In a way, it brings him back to the old days—back to simpler times when their family’s reunion was a vague possibility far, far into the future; something more like a nightmare that only appears in fever dreams instead of a horrible reality that threatens to crush him under its weight.

And that’s when the sensation starts: like a forceful, painful jab to his gut, followed by the feeling of some invisible force grabbing hold of his esophagus and squeezing—hard—until he’s left on his knees, clawing at his chest and gasping for air and watching as the world around him oscillates between black and white and red and—

It’s moving. Whatever is inside him is moving—up from the base of his stomach, up through his chest and his throat until he finds himself gagging on whatever it is, whatever he can’t see until—

It forces its way past his lips and sputters forth onto the table: rough, jagged, smelling like bile but tasting metallic, like iron, like blood, like—

The shine is undeniable. Touma can hardly take his eyes off it and it’s almost as though the awful pain he had just endured never happened at all.

He’s just vomited pure gold.

#yaoyorozu touma #legacy.arc #internship.arc #diary.txt #queued

[ua-momo-archive]

august 7 | evening.

After Momo’s turned in for the night and Ichirou’s left to cancel their daughter’s trip to France, Mayumi—for the first time in a long time—finds herself kneeling at her bedside, praying. She’s not entirely sure if there’s even a point, if she’s even doing it right. She just wants some sort of validation that she’s doing the right thing, that she’s not damning her family to a fate worse than the one they had been following.

Mayumi doesn’t move when the door opens, even though the sound of its opening and shutting is enough to stop the beating of her heart. The silence remains for a few moments, and she keeps her eyes shut as she continues to hurriedly mouth the words from muscle memory alone, hoping that the prayer will still work as long as she pretends, even if she doesn’t remember.

She’s pulled from her thoughts at the sudden presence on the bed in front of her, and when she opens her eyes, she finds herself kneeling between Ichirou’s legs as he glares down. He doesn’t look at her face—not directly—and instead seems to be focused on the hands she has clasped in front of her. “Who are you praying to? We both know you don’t believe in God.”

The words send tremors running down her spine and, quietly, still unable to meet his gaze, she brings her hands to rest in her lap. It’s obvious to him that the action is shameful to her—though he’s not sure which part of it exactly is bringing her so much disgrace—despite Mayumi’s intentions to keep such emotions to herself. In fact, she’s not quite sure when she started to feel this way in front of Ichirou. She knows that fear isn’t exactly the right word—that her real emotion is somewhere between insecurity and anxiety and, yeah, maybe fear at the churning of emotions in her never-steady heart; fear at the way her cheeks flush when she looks up at him, fear at the way her breath catches in her throat when he speaks to her, fear at the way she plays their last kiss over and over again in her mind when it’s late at night (when she can’t help but touch herself to the memory and the endless possible ways that encounter could have ended but didn’t).

“I-I just…”

“You sent an application to the Hero Commission on Momo’s behalf,” Ichirou smoothly supplies. “You didn’t tell me, and you didn’t tell Momo, and now you’re not sure if you’ve done the right thing.”

Hot tears prick at Mayumi’s eyes as she whips her head up to look at him; the desperation to be understood, to be validated, shines like shimmering diamonds when it’s caught in the ebony of her lashes and despite everything that’s happened as of late, Ichirou feels his heart clench at the sight. It takes everything in his power to not reach out to wipe away the tears that threaten to spill down her cheek—but to do so would be to give in. And despite the obvious hypocrisy of the situation—the hypocrisy that perhaps Mayumi can sense though she certainly can’t understand—Ichirou finds that giving in is the very last thing he wants to do in this situation.

The first tear falls.

“Ichirou… What are we doing, trying to decide our daughter’s future like this… Where’s the justice in ripping her dreams away from her when she’s barely had the chance to chase after them…?”

Her husband says nothing: just watches in amazed silence as the tears continue to run down Mayumi’s reddened cheeks.

“We’re doing what’s best for her,” he eventually answers. “That’s our duty as her parents, Mayumi.” 

(Even as the words leave his lips in the most confident of ways, he isn’t sure that he fully believes them himself.)

“We both know how terrible and cruel this world can be. And so it’s up to us to shelter Momo from it as much as we possibly can. Inheriting the Yaoyorozu Corporation would offer her the most financial and social stability despite the world’s current affairs—we both know that.” He runs his hand along the curve of her jaw, gingerly wiping away a stray tear with his thumb against his better judgment. “We’re doing what’s best for Momo,” he repeats again, softer. 

(Marrying her off is just an extra contingency plan—it’s just to make sure that her inheritance remains an option. It’s not the most moral thing to do, Ichirou knows that. But he also understands that sometimes such things are absolute necessities, and he knows that his wife has yet to develop such awareness. His keeping secrets is just protecting Mayumi from the world’s injustices as well; he’d gladly accept the metaphorical blood on his hands and his hands alone, just as he’s learned to accept its physical manifestation that threatens to stain everything he touches.)

Ichirou’s hand tightens its grip on her jaw. 

“Or, at least, I thought we were.”

Mayumi chokes on her emotion as she swats his hand away and flinches from his touch. The vulnerability is still evident in the trembling of her frame but a new steeliness shines brightly in her eyes. “How dare you,” she snarls. “You must know that I only acted out of the purest of intentions!”

“No,” Ichirou glowers, pulling the glove off his hand as though it’ll alleviate the sting of Mayumi’s touch. The blood drips onto the white of their linens and the white of her nightgown, but neither of them seem to care. “You acted without thinking, that’s what you did.”

“I thought that we were being cruel, being heartless—being like our parents,” she spits back. “And why would either of us ever want something like that?”

Ichirou feels something like pride surge up in his chest as he grabs the front of Mayumi’s nightgown and pulls her forward to meet his gaze head-on, minimizing the distance between them so that she can see for herself the weight of her own words. “My father,” Ichirou grits, “Is a good man that always puts his family first. Though I suppose you’d be oblivious to such a quality since you’ve chosen to blind yourself to anything that has to do with an honest, unprejudiced view towards me or my family.”

Red flashes through her eyes as she grabs at his collar herself. “I’m your family too, you idiot!” She shrieks. “Stop talking about your family as though I’m not a part of it, because you know damn well that I am!”

He scrunches his nose at her in distaste, angling his face away from her as the spit lands on his cheeks. “You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Shut up,” she hisses. “At this point, I never know what you mean—it’s like I don’t even know you anymore!”

“Or maybe you never knew me to begin with.”

As the words leave his lips, both of them find themselves taken aback by the weight of their truth.

They both simultaneously release their grips on the other; Mayumi falling lamely back onto the bloodstained carpet and Ichirou looking lost and frightened as he sits atop the reddened sheets.

Neither knows what to say, but they’re both of the firm belief that the other is wrong.

“Get out.”

Ichirou stares dumbly at the woman in front of him. “What?”

“I said: Get. Out.”

The staccato nature with which the words are repeated effectively hammers their meaning into his heart. He fists the fabric within his bloody fingers. “Mayumi,” he grits. “This is my house.”

“Like hell it is,” she bites back. “Get. The fuck. Out.”

Ichirou’s face burns a bright red as he slowly rises to his feet, staring down at the furious woman beneath him and wondering when he began to see imperfection in the beauty of her features.

“You’ve done wrong, Mayumi,” he murmurs. “And I pray for us all that you don’t have to realize it the hard way.”

He slams the door on his way out and Mayumi can do nothing but sit and stare at the blood her husband left behind. It’s not until she hears the revving of his car as he drives away that she curls up into a ball and allows herself to cry.

#god this one in particular was so much fun to write i ekrjawlker #yaoyorozu mayumi #yaoyorozu ichirou #diary.txt #legacy.arc #internship.arc #queued

[ua-momo-archive]

august 7 | late afternoon.

Mayumi does a lot for her family. She manages their finances. She makes the important household decisions. She’s kept them together even when it would have been so, so easy to tear them all apart.

But she always does what she knows will be best.

Always.

“Momo, sweetie! It looks like you’ve received a letter.”

At the disruption of silence, Ichirou looks up from his paperwork. There’s suspicion in his eyes that he tries to hide by taking a well-timed sip of his coffee. “She’s packing for her flight tomorrow. Who’s the letter from? It can probably wait.”

They’re the first words he’s directly said to her since their fight at the parent-teacher conferences. Mayumi’s well-aware that the only reason he’s returned to living in the house is because Momo’s returned home for the summer; once she leaves on this experiential learning trip, Ichirou’s simply just going to disappear again.

Mayumi knows this. And that’s fine. She doesn’t… She doesn’t want him anyway, she doesn’t need him…

She doesn’t...

“The Hero Commission.”

Ichirou’s grip on his mug tightens as the suspicion in his eyes morphs into accusation. “Mayumi, you—”

“A letter?” Momo repeats as she rushes down the stairs. “For me?”

Her mother smiles as she passes the envelope to her. Ichirou doesn’t take his gaze off of his wife. “Do open it, darling. It looks important.”

If Momo knew how to look, she’d see the strained tension in her parents’ shoulders, sense the immense disconnect that lies between them. But she doesn’t know, and so she’s oblivious in her excitement as she tears open the letter and drops her jaw in surprise.

“A-A hero internship? But I didn’t even apply!”

Mayumi’s heart races as she forces her smile to widen. It feels so fake. She hates that she has to do this but she’s doing what’s best for the family. She’s always done what’s best for the family. Because she wants to be a good mother, and she’ll do anything it takes to be a good mother, anything—

Ichirou doesn’t take his gaze off of his wife.

“That’s wonderful, darling,” he says slowly, carefully, with just enough kindness in his voice to distract from his obvious disapproval. “Absolutely wonderful.”

Momo’s eyes are shining brightly as she alternates between looking at the neatly typed paper and at her parents. “I-I just… How did this even…” There’s the shadow of a smile dancing on her features, longing to be unleashed and just barely being held back; the sight of it twists something in Mayumi’s heart.

“Clearly your teachers weren’t exaggerating when they said that you’re one of the best U.A. has to offer! Word must have gotten around, and I suppose they just couldn’t stop themselves from reaching out once they saw you hadn’t sent in an application.” She forced a hollow laugh. “Would you like at that! My daughter, personally scouted to become a hero protege!”

At those words, Momo can no longer hold back the smile that finally graces her features. “Me… A hero…” There’s a dreamy look in her eye as she plays around with the idea in her mind, features only brightening. “A hero…!”

Ichirou never takes his gaze off Mayumi and Mayumi doesn’t find the courage to stare at him directly; a mere glimpse of him in her peripheral vision says it all— “You’re a liar.”

And maybe Mayumi is. All her life, she’s been told that she’s nothing more than a manipulative bitch. Perhaps she spent too much time fighting back against the oppressive label when she should have been embracing it.

She saunters to her daughter’s side and wraps her in a tight hug, heart racing in her chest as she muses about what the future will hold and tries to ignore the trepidation in her chest at the possibility that she’s pushing everyone further and further away from her when she wants nothing more than to keep them by her side for forever. “And you did it all on your own, sweetie. Remember that this victory is wholly yours and yours alone.”

Momo can’t stop the tears of joy that spring forth from her eyes as she pulls her mother closer, an excited giggle dancing past her lips. Mayumi just buries her head into her daughter’s shoulder, doing everything she can to pretend that she’s unfazed by the wounds she’s carved into her husband’s back or his pained, piercing glare that burns her skin more and more with each passing second.

#diary.txt #legacy.arc #internship.arc #yaoyorozu mayumi #yaoyorozu ichirou #((guess who's back LMAO)) #((posting a series of drabbles explaining what's been up with momo before jumping fully back into rp!))

[ua-momo-archive]

(ua-setsuna) Hey!!!! Momo! Just wanted to wish you good luck for your internship! You're gonna do GREAT, I know it! Can't wait to see you at Orientation!! 😍💚

O-Oh! Setsuna-san, thank you so much!! I wish you the best of luck as well!!

It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other, hasn’t it...? I’m looking forward to seeing you again too!

@ua-setsuna

#((collapses to the floor sobbing)) #((i love them so much AWH)) #internship.arc #setsuna tokage #replies