[A/N: this shit is not edited because screw that. I just want to finish this.]

Since middle school, Katsuki has never been a very good sleeper. Most people at this school aren't good sleepers in any sense of the word, with the exception of Kaminari who somehow gained the privileged of being able to conk out at any given moment. This being said, a general rule of not waking others up has been established. Sleep is precious and deserves to be taken in full when possible. 

Which is why is it's such a surprise that he finds himself being awaken on a Saturday morning.

He groans as sleep slips away from him, the light of reality's sun rising spilling into his dorm. Blearily, he rubs at his eyes, mumbling, "I'm going to kill you." 

The awake part of his brain tells him he should be more wary of someone in his room but the still half asleep part bats away the warning. It's probably just Dunce face. Lord knows if anyone's going to trip over his something in his room causing a ruckus it's going to be him. 

"Sorry," comes the shy reply. Katsuki bolts up in his bed, eyes snapping open at the sound of a voice not at all like Kaminari's. His gaze settles on the figure across the room. They stand over a tipped waste bin, balled up paper littering the ground around them. The girl's expression is pained as she apologizes again. "I didn't mean to wake you up."

He stares at Kaz owlishly, the earlier panic residing. He hangs his head, grunting as he waves aside her apology. "Watch where you step next time, idiot." 

"Yeah, whatever," she mutters while coming to sit next to him. 

The bed sinks as she sits, dipping towards her. Much to Katsuki's surprise, she leans her head onto his shoulder, sighing. He stiffens, breath catching in his throat. Warmth spreads out from where her cheek presses into top of his shoulder. Part of him wants to flinch away; to shove her off the bed and keep her at an arms length for the rest of her stay. He nearly does. 

"Don't," she says, halting him from moving her away. Her voice isn't stern like normal. It's meek-- quiet and subdued with her eyes glancing up at him. "Just. Not now." 

He could ignore her. He could push her out of the room and not see her ever again. He doesn't, maybe because she's growing on him, maybe because he can hear his own self in the way she says those words. Slow-sounded vowels and a question phrased as a demand. He recognizes it like how he'd recognize himself in the mirror. 

Soon enough, his arm is coming to rest around her torso, allowing her to stay with her head next to his. He asks, "What's the matter with you?" 

Something is wrong, that he knows. This whole time she's withdrawn at random moments, set off on the slightest things only to bounce back. If there's anything he knows about Bakugou's, it's that their actions are never unprovoked. Some people will say he blows up without any rhyme or reason. His anger, according to others, is constant and a default. On the contrary, every explosion has a kind of ignition, it's just usually invisible. 

There's something invisible hanging over Kaz. 

She shrugs, the motion felt against his own arms. She presses her head more into his shoulder, cheeks squishing as she mumbles a loosely pronounced, "Life. Lack thereof. Both." 

"That's broad," he notes. 

"Yeah, no shit." She scoffs and draws her knees to her chest, tilting more into him. She chews her lip. There a split of silence, and then, "I'm going to miss this." 

She says it like one would say it rained on the day they made outdoor plans. Softly with disappointment and hints of reluctance mixed together. Like they wished they'd checked the whether beforehand. 

The raise of his eyebrows asks, miss what?

"Being able to lean on you like this, I mean," she explains. She gestures vaguely at their position. "Y'know, physically and emotionally. You were always there for me to lean on so long as I reached out. You'd sit in my room and comfort me while I cried or you'd let me use you as a headrest when Papa told stories. I'd complain to you about school and boys and my quirk and you'd always make things better." 

Her eyes water. He hears it in the waver of her voice before he sees the actual swell of tears. She quickly rubs at them with her sleeve. She stares at the dark wet spot on her hoodie, stained by tears and clutched in her balled up fingers. 

"You'd carry me to bed when I fell asleep in the car. You'd let me sleep between you and Pa when I had nightmares. You let me become a hero even though you didn't want me to. You let me lean on you for everything and. . . and I don't know what I'm going to do without your support." She sniffs, tongue poking into her cheek. "You were such a great dad." 

I'm sorry Dad. I'm so sorry. 

Katsuki knew that in the future he'd regret what he asks next. There is a him years down the line that will wonder why he needed to know so badly why his daughter cried and referred to him in past tense. He'll ask himself if he should've known, if the fates had meant it that way. Right now, he thinks about that future him and decides his future is already set in stone. Kaz's is still continuing though and perhaps that's why he asks. 

"I'm dead, aren't I?" He tilts his head so he can see her better. He watches the skin just above her cheekbone split apart, hot red liquid revealing itself beneath. Like watching tectonic plates pull away from each other. 

She nods.

"How long?" he questions. 

Hands fidgeting with the sleeve of her sweater, she replies, "A few days." 

He curses under his breath. His free hand rubs at his face, cursing again. A few days. That's-- It's hardly anything when it comes to grief. Not that it seems like she's been grieving at all. It feels impossible to imagine what she's going through, watching the person she just lost live as a younger version of themselves. Not to mention their entire class always pestering her about the future. 

"Kaz--" he starts but she cuts him off. 

"Don't. I don't want your pity." She sighs, a strand of her choppy hair being blown out of her face. "I just wanted to let you know. We don't. . . we weren't on the best terms when it happened. I guess I just wanted you to know I still love you, even though we were fighting. I don't hate you. I wish I could go back an say sorry for everything I did." 

She laughs bitterly then. Wiping at her eyes again, she huffs. "That's the cruel twist to this all. I do have the chance to tell you all that but you won't really know what I mean till it's too late. We'll still fight and you'll still die." 

Katsuki can't say he knows what she's feeling but he understands her. He shifts his arm to around her shoulder, not knowing what he's supposed to say or do but attempt to comfort her. His own father used to put his arm around him like this, when he was still young and his pride hadn't grown so large it pushed away his parents. He wonders if that's how Kaz feels, that stinging feeling in his lungs that coils around his his airways and forces memories of a life he'd been supported in. A longing for this now gone feeling of parental love. 

 "I'll remember that," he murmurs. She gives him an odd look and he clarifies. "That you loved me. When I die, it won't be thinking that you hated me."

It's strange feeling those words on his tongue. He struggles with it like how he struggles to return Kirishima's hugs or reply to Ashido's random bursts of affection. It's not his forte. He's not soft with his affections. He rough; lacing insults with caring undertones;  forcefully shoving plates of food in front of people whilst spewing curses; punching shoulders and kicking at feet under tables rather than hugging. Direct words spoken so softly like this is not the rough he thrives in. 

Kaz is quiet for a moment. Katsuki so badly wants to reach for the thoughts she's trapping inside as her next words hang suspended in the air. He doesn't have to wait long before she closes her eyes and says, "Good." 

Understanding passes between them then, Bakugou to Bakugou. No more needs to be said. Katsuki doesn't know what her future's like and Kaz doesn't know what he's like at this age. He doesn't need to know how he dies, why he'd think she'd hate him, who the man she calls Dad turns out to be. The knowledge that he will remember this moment is enough. 

With Kaz tucked under his arm, he ends up getting the few extra minutes of sleep he wanted after all. 

-:-

The next hours of the day pass by effortlessly. 

Kaz and Katsuki eventually make it down to the common room where they find most of 3-A huddled around the TV watching the Sunday Hero Highlights. Kaz immediately makes herself at home in front of Kaminari, effectively blocking his view of the television while Katsuki takes his seat on the sofa next to Jirou (it's the farthest seat from Deku who mutters too much during the highlights). 

When the highlights are over and done with, the class whirls on Kaz. They ask her questions about the future again and drag her to bake cupcakes with them. Katsuki begrudgingly watches from the island stool. Their class is a mess, Kaz and Satou being the only glue holding them together. Really it was more Satou for Kaz kept shooting puffs of floor at different targets. Once she hits Katsuki and he's forced to chase her into the the common room threatening to blow her up. She squeals high and loud the whole time. 

He tries his best to stick close to Kaz. They both know this will be some of her last moments with him. Even if he's not how she knows him, it's probably nice to spend time together. She doesn't seem to have any disliking for his company as she sits next to him, watching him finish up a project due on the following Monday.

It's not till lunch that their easy mood is disrupted. He's tending to food on the stove as Kaz cuts up vegetables when Kirishima walks into the kitchen. The yawn he gives into with stretching arms reveals he just woke up. His eyes still carry darkened circles but they're better than they were yesterday. He looks up for only a second, staring right at Katsuki. 

The thing is, since first year Katsuki's always found Kirishima's eyes the most interesting part of him. Red like passion and blood and anger when Kirishima only truly applies to one of those things. It piqued Katsuki's curiosity that his eyes, the gateway to the soul, were naturally red. It felt poetic somehow that the colour which fit him so perfectly was already the center piece of his soul. 

When Katsuki saw red he used to think, anger, fire, dangerous. Now he sees a hand reaching out to him in the pitch black of night and a grin that spreads up towards ruby eyes. 

Those eyes stare at him now and red spreads from them to the boy's cheeks, blush staining every part of his face. 

Kirishima looked away and hurried out of the room, leaving Katsuki confused and still thinking about the pink-red colour that splashed across his ears, nose, and cheeks.

"Fuck," he cursed and slammed his hands on the counter. 

Beside him, Kaz jumped at the sound as anyone would. Her own curse followed and he glanced at her only to see her glaring at a bent knife. No-- not just bent, hot red too. She sighed and muttered something under her breath before going to grab a new one. He blinked at the knife, eyes tracing over the strange transfiguration of it. 

"What the hell?" he swore, leaning close to get a better look at it. He side eyed Kaz after another inspection of the knife. "What the shit did you do to it?" 

Kaz faced him with a new knife in hand. She frowned at the old knife. "You just surprised me is all. My quirk acted up and voila." 

"I repeat. What did you do to it?" 

"Like my quirk?" He nodded. "Oh. Here, I'll show you." 

Without warning, her skin split apart in several places, the new open spaces filling with red liquid. Lava, his lizard brain points out. The skin around the cracks turned jagged like stone.

"I called it Faulting," she stated proudly. She outstretched her arms to him so he could see. He ran his finger along the side of a crack, feeling both the hard rock skin and the heat fro the lava. "Y'know, like in--" 

"--Geology," he concludes. He glances up to see her dawning a small smile. He feels the corner of his lip tick up but he quickly pushes it back down. 

"My Pa likes to say 'I lava you'," she admits. 

He snorts at the pun. "He's a pun guy, huh?" 

"Don't pretend like those aren't your favorite kinds of jokes." 

Denying it would be lying. His own father had raised him off puns and even as the two of them grew distant, his love for them never did fade. Kaminari picked up on the habit not too long ago and has been abusing that piece of knowledge ever since. It's growing harder not to punch him in the face in the mornings before a joke can fall from his lips. 

Kaz clears her throat and turns off her quirk, skin stitching back together as she pulls her arm towards herself again. "The lava can spill over. When I'm surprised or emotional it happens more often. Like when people scream fuck suddenly because their crush walked in the room and I end up ruining kitchen wear." 

Katsuki freezes. Crush. 

"What?" he gawks. "I don't have a crush!" 

She waves the knife in his direction. "Uh huh. Sure you don't." 

"I don't," he grumbles, crossing his arms. 

"You do, but okay," she snickers. "God, it's so nice not to be on the receiving end of the teasing." 

"I'll kill you." 

"You do you, Pops." 

On one side, he wants to panic and be mad that Kaz knows about his high school infatuations but on the other hand of things, he remembers all too well how his mother used to boast about her youth love life. Is it normal for parents to tell their kids about their relationships before their current partners (assuming they have current partners)? 

Is it weird for Kaz to see him in love with someone other than her Papa? 

"You should talk to him," she said, disrupting his thoughts. 

He frowned. "Who the fuck are you talking about?"

Rolling her eyes, she groans. "Eijirou. We were literally just talking about him."

No words leave his lips. It's not that he doesn't want to. He does want to. Talk to Kirishima that is. All he wants is to go back to talking to his best friend. The recent radio silence from him has been unsettling, to say the least, but Katsuki's not good with words. He can't talk to him, not in the way that he needs to. 

"You can't keep dancing around each other," Kaz points out. She slides the vegetables she cut into the pan and bumps him with her shoulder. "Come on. It's just Eijirou."

She's right. Kirishima knows he's bad with word. If he has a chance of being understood by anyone, it's him. 

Kaz takes the spatula from his hand, clearly knowing he'd made up his mind. She grins at him. "Go on. I'll make sure the food doesn't burn." 

-:- 

He finds Kirishima in the training room. Katsuki spots him in the corner where he's going all out on a punching bag, throwing hit after hit. He's relentless, swinging like a real enemy stands before him. 

"Hey," Katsuki says, stepping towards him with his hands in his pockets. 

Kirishima startles. His hands harden out of surprise as he throws one last punch towards the bag. It splits open with a satisfying rip, sand spilling from the opening. Both Katsuki and him stare at the sight while Kirishima mumbles, "Shit. Promised Aizawa I wouldn't break another." 

Katsuki snorted. "He'll get over it." 

"Hopefully." The redhead faced him, rubbing at his knuckles. His slight frown didn't pick up like normal. Instead, it shifted into an awkward pursing of the lips. He waved. "Uh, hey." 

The stupidest part is that Katsuki's lizard brain found the dork behavior endearing of all things. He shoved away the part of him that grew warm looking at his best friend. 

"So uh, did you talk to Kaz about the. . . you know?" Kirishima asked. 

Katsuki tilted his head, frowning. What on earth was this idiot talking about? Kaz only talked to him about. . . 

"Me dying?" Katsuki asked. 

Kirishima ducked his head, rubbing at his neck. "Yeah. That." 

"You knew? Is that why you've been acting so fucking weird?" 

"I didn't know till last night." He peeked up at him, red eyes saying a million things words couldn't. "The reason I've been so distant is actually really stupid in hindsight." 

He rolled his eyes. No matter how much Katsuki tried to beat it into his head, Kirishima still found way to put himself down from calling his reasons stupid to straight up badmouthing himself. He couldn't seem to understand that he's the best there is - at least to Katsuki. 

"Spit it out, dumbass," he demanded. The best thing about Kirishima was the he always knew what he meant. His words sound harsh and uncaring but he knew his friend would understand that his intentions were the opposite. He's not good with words so he doesn't try to be, and that work with Kirishima. 

He swayed on his feet, gnawing at his lip. Katsuki waited until he finally spat, "It's just - you have this whole future ahead of you. It looks so great and wonderful. You have a family, a daughter. Your agency is the top in the country. You've got such an amazing life and I'm just. . . there." He sighs. "I don't - I worry that I'll fall behind. One day in the future you'll wake up and realize you're just letting me tag along and maybe you won't want that anymore. I'll fade away." 

Katsuki steps towards him again till their close enough that he can place his hand on his shoulder. He forces Kirishima to look at him. Red eyes that's he's spent the past three years finding comfort in. Red eyes that sometimes pool with tears or harden into stone or light up like a firefly. The center piece of Kirishima that he's seen in every form for the what feels like forever. 

"You're not tagging along," he said. "You're standing beside me."

It didn't matter then who Kaz's Pa was or if he'll one day lose this both terrifying and wonderful feeling in his chest. All that mattered was the now and the promise he makes then to keep Kirishima at his side forever. As his friend, as his hero partner, as the boy who helped shape who he is now and who'll he be later on. 

Kirishima's smile wobbled as it appeared on his face. He dived forward, embracing Katsuki and holding him close to his chest. Katsuki didn't put up a fight as he sunk into the hug, winding his arms around his best friends back. Kirishima's hands shook where they clutched at the fabric of his shirt but he could care less. 

The past few days might have been strange and distant but that was a small blip in the grand scheme of things. If there's one thing Katsuki's learned form his classmates, it's that they always sort themselves out and bounce right back to each other. There will be periods of silence or even times when they scream so loud walls shake, but they will always bounce back just as they do every time before. 

"I'm sorry for ignoring you," Kirishima mumbled into his shoulder. 

Katsuki replied, "You should be, asshole." 

The redhead laughed, joy spilling through the cracks in his smile as he hugged him tighter. Katsuki reveled in the hug for a second longer before he swatted at him. 

"Oi! Lend me some breathing room, fuck." 

"But I have to make up for days worth of hugs!" 

"Kirishima!" 

The asshole just laughed. Katsuki couldn't think of a better thing. 

-:- 

Hours later, their class is sitting in the common room together, enjoying their day off. Kaminari argues with his Sero over the gaming counsel and Deku helps Uraraka braid Tsuyu's hair. Katsuki watches with mild amusement as a controller flies out of Kaminari's hand and hit's Deku. When he snorts, Kaz elbows him in his side.

His daughter is curled up next to him, hands fiddling with the pages of one of his books. He's only letting her sit so close because he knows their time is running out. He may be an asshole, but he won't deny her a few final moments with someone whose at least a little like her father. 

After his conversation with Kirishima, Kaz had given him some kind of knowing look. He didn't understand what it meant but Kirishima must have judging by the way his face had turned pink and he'd ducked out of the room. 

Now the three of them shared a space on the couch, Kaz squished between the two older boys. It was nice, admittedly. To act so casual, he means. His best friend wasn't avoiding him anymore and he wasn't trying to shove the entire idea of Kaz down a drain. The result was. . . tolerable. He didn't mind Kaz and he definitely didn't mind Kirishima smiling at him again (though there was still the tiniest bit of hesitancy to the action, like he knew something Katsuki didn't). 

Or at least it was peaceful until Kaz stood up abruptly. 

"Oh shit," she murmured under her breath, eyes wide. 

Kirishima was on his feet too in seconds, hand coming to rest on her shoulder. "Kaz? You good? What's wrong?" 

She shook her head roughly. "I think I'm going home." The whole class erupted, scrambling to surround her. Her hand touched her stomach. "I got this feeling in my gut before I got her and now it's back." 

Of all people, Tokoyami told the class, "Calm down everyone." 

Katsuki moved to stand before her, watching her eyes fill with tears. A crack broke through her skin by her forehead, lava pooling in it. He told her, "Hey, you're going home. That's a good thing." 

She shook her head again. "No. No it's not. You're not there." 

"I'm not here either," he said. "I'm not the Katsuki Bakugou you know." 

"You're name's not even Bakugou," she says, choking on her words a little. 

He wants to help her. He wishes he could change the future, fix what how he'd died. He'd try to do better just so she wouldn't have to cry like this. 

"That's too bad. Bakugou is a kick ass name," he settled on saying. 

She gave him a watery smile. "Yeah it is." 

Her gaze traveled across the class, skipping from person to person. She thanked them, saying she was glad to have spent the last few days with them. Then he eyes came back to him. She sniffed and mumbled, "Bye, Dad." 

He thought that was it but then she looked to Kirishima and smiled. "See ya, Pa." 

And then she was gone. 

Katsuki stared at the empty space she used to occupy, heart thundering in his chest as her words slowly processed in his brain. He blinked once, twice, then looked to Kirishima. They stared at each other for a moment, two moments, then--

"What the fuck!?" 

-:- 

Kazuya used to think her dad was the coolest person in the whole world.

A lot of kids say that about their parents. A lot of kids don't mean it. Kazuya did. She meant it with every fiber of her being. She used to only get through the school day by knowing her dad would ruffle her hair and kiss her cheek when he saw her marks, good or bad, or that she'd get to see him when he came to pick her up from class. She lived the whole first few years of her life looking up to her dad, looking forward to being like him. (and her Papa too, of course)

She remembers taking long walks around the park with him, hands connected and swinging back and forth between her parents on their way to get ice cream. Their family used to visit this one bench by the duck pond and her dad always let her sit on his lap when throwing bread for the birds. Papa used to complain that she never sat with him and she'd always bite back that it's his own fault his legs aren't as comfy. Her dad used to laugh at all her jokes. She liked making him laugh. She thinks he liked it too.

When her school told her to write about her favorite hero in first grade, she wrote about Ground Zero, her father (Pa wasn't too jealous because she promised she'd tried to write about them both but Mrs Sana had forced her to pick only one hero). Her page was twice as long as the others and she got a 'B' because she hadn't only written about hero work but also how Ground Zero was really good at braiding hair.

Dad used to braid her hair a lot. She'd always beg him because even though Papa was better, she liked the messy way her dad did it more. He used to always agree to help her. He'd braid it and tell her embarrassing stories about Papa and at the end he'd always kiss the top of her head and say he'd burn the world for her (translation: I love you). When she was twelve, he once told her to do her own hair because he was busy.

She shaved her head the next week.

She's got a temper, she knows that, but she also knows she's not bratty enough to shave her head simply because her dad wouldn't braid it. It was more than that at that point. There was so much going on then and she just wanted someone to notice her. She wanted him to notice her.

And boy was she noticed. She'd cried herself to sleep the night she shaved her head as she heard her parents arguing in the living room about whether it was fair or not for Katsuki to shout at her so much over such a little thing. She thinks that's when it started; the downhill spiral.

Papa once told her that Grandma Mitsuki wasn't the best mother when Dad was growing up. He said she'd yell at him then spoil him the next minute. She could barely imagine Mitsuki being like that at the time, especially since her and her dad were so similar. Pa says she tried her best in raising Dad, that she was still a good mother, despite where she went wrong sometimes. He told her that her Dad tries very hard to raise her better and sometimes he doesn't know how. Sometimes he gets too frustrated.

He told her that after she'd came home from Touya's house only to have her father demand why she was hours late past her curfew. He'd yelled at her a lot. The next day he apologized but Kazuya wasn't sure how to take it. Her dad's never been good with apologies, but at least she knew he was trying. Sometimes she wonders if he'd still try, after all that's happened.

Her parents love her. They tell her so every day. She loves them too but lately it's been hard to remember that. Some days it feels like Dad hates her and others she wonders if she hates him. Touya says Dad just is worried about her. She says Touya doesn't know what he's talking about.

She supposes the big reason Touya wouldn't know what she's talking about is because she doesn't tell him about how most their arguments start. The truth is a lot of the time the fights have something to do with Touya. Touya Midoriya is probably Kazuya's biggest obstacle in life.

It's funny, because the boy had warned her of that once. They'd been sitting in his room on his fifth birthday. He'd told her he didn't have a quirk, that he'd be a burden. At the time, she thought that was ridiculous and promised that a feather would be more of a burden than him, quirk or no. Of course, she still believes that he is strong, and certainly not a burden (he'd resembles a pillar of support more), but now she knows better than to think quirks don't matter.

It wasn't long after she found out that Touya was quirkless that she also found out her dad used to bully a quirkless boy, Touya's father.

Maybe that's why she yelled so loud when Dad told her he doesn't want her to be like him. It never really mattered in the end though. Not now when she stared up a hospital ceiling of her timeline wondering where they could have done better -- wondering how she's supposed to face the nurse that comes to tell her Dad died. 

Part of her wishes she didn't have to leave that timeline at all. She hopes at least that she did her father some good by mentioning calling Pa so. 

The door to her hospital room opened revealing one of the nurses. The nurse smiled at her but Kazuya didn't want her pleasantries. She wanted her to spit it out already. 

"Vulca, welcome back," she said. "How are you feeling? Any dizziness?" 

Kazuya shook her head. "No I'm -- I'm fine." 

"Good. You found someone to treat your wounds back in time?" 

"Yes. Recovery Girl," she mumbled, scratching at the back of her head. 

Just tell me, lady. Tell me already. Spit it out. 

"Perfect. Your parents are waiting outside for you, should I send them in?" 

. . . parents. 

She stared at the nurse, mouth agape. She must have heard wrong. Or maybe the nurse spoke wrong. Is Kyouka or Mina here and people thought they were her mom again? That has to be happening. That's the only -  It has to be what she meant. 

Idly, she nodded. The nurse smiled at her and opened the door to her room again. She left and through the wall Kazuya could make out her muffled voice calling, "Kirishima-san? Your daughter is ready to see you." 

She braced herself, squeezing her eyes shut when she heard the room door open again. She can't bare to see her Pa's face when he breaks the news. 

"Kaz?" 

Hearing Pa's voice - his older voice - was all it took to pull tears from her eyes. Her shoulders shook as she cried. Immediately, she heard Papa's heavy footsteps rush towards her bed and felt his hand rest on her shoulder. 

And felt another, lighter hand rest on her other shoulder. 

She snapped her eyes open and stared at the body the hand connected to, barely believing what she saw. 

"Hey, firecracker," Dad said, brushing his hand through her hair. 

Confusion swelled in her alongside joy ans she fumbled for the right words. Her father, the one she presumed to be dead, stood beside her as real as ever. His eyes were weighed down by dark circles and his hair looked like it'd been through a windstorm but he was there; alive and breathing. 

"I don;t. . . I don't understand," she said, struggling to grasp the fact that her father was right there. "You died. I watched you- I saw how you went down. I don't understand." 

Her father smiled at her. His voice was hoarse when he answered, "Ground Zero can't die." 

She whacked him. "That's not-- What the fuck!?" 

"Hey, calm down," Papa urged. He squeezed her shoulder. "You father is a stubborn man but he's also a smart man." 

Dad grinned. "I've had an emergency medic on call for the past year, waiting for when this would happen. The moment we fought, I called them to the scene so when I was hit backup showed up and I was healed quickly. I wasn't going to let my daughter live with out her dad. You and I both know you wouldn't survive with just Eijirou watching over you." 

"Hey!" Her Pa shrieked. 

Kazuya couldn't do anything but cry. Out of relief maybe but still it heart. She clung to her family as tight as she could and cried until her lungs ached and her tear ducts felt emptied. Her parents held her the whole time, comforting and promising to never leave her till they were old and gray. 

And maybe they next day they'd talk about how her father remembered, that he'd fought with her so much because he was scared to lose her. Maybe her father would mention how he didn't want to spend his last moments fighting with her. Maybe they'd talk about how their younger selves had gotten together because of her or how they thought about the daughter she'd grow to be everyday when they raised her. For now though, they let her cry. 

So she'd cried with every fiber of her being as she thanked the world for letting her come back to her family in one piece. 

And maybe tomorrow while sitting with her parents around their living room, she'd thank it again.