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It had been three weeks—three agonizing, silent weeks—and Kirishima was a breath away from losing it. Emi hadn't called, hadn't texted, and the emptiness in his chest was starting to feel permanent. He'd gone to Aizawa, bugged Principal Nezu, and even swallowed his pride to ask All Might for any updates. All he got were vague reassurances.  

The funeral for her parents had come and gone, that much he knew—but where was she? Why hadn't she come back? 

And why the hell wasn't she answering her phone? 

The teachers didn't seem worried, brushing him off with the same patronizing line: "She needs time." Time? Kirishima felt nauseous at the thought. She didn't need to go through this alone; that much he was sure of. His friends had voiced their concerns, but none of them seemed to want to do anything about it. The waiting, the helplessness—it was driving him insane.  

Enough was enough. If villains could sneak into U.A., then sneaking out couldn't be that hard, right?  

He'd spent all night packing. His backpack was crammed with clothes, toiletries, and every yen he'd saved up. He didn't have a clue how he'd make it to America, but with enough determination—and maybe some charm—he figured he'd find her somehow. He just needed to get started.  

At two in the morning, he crept down the dorm stairs, holding his breath at every creak and groan of the old wood beneath his feet. Just a few more steps, and he'd be—  

"Oi, just what the hell do you think you're doing?"  

Kirishima froze, his foot still hovering above the bottom step. His blood ran cold as he turned to find Bakugo leaning against the front door, arms crossed and his usual scowl firmly in place.  

"K-Kacchan," Kirishima stammered, forcing a grin. "Uh, just heading out for a walk, y'know? Clear my head."  

Bakugo wasn't buying it for a second. "At two in the morning? You think I'm an idiot?" He pushed off the door, stomping over until they were nose-to-nose.  

"I could ask you the same thing," Kirishima shot back, desperately trying to keep his voice steady. "What are you doing up?"  

"Making sure you don't do anything stupid." With one swift motion, Bakugo yanked the backpack off Kirishima's shoulders and unzipped it. Clothes and toiletries spilled out in an unorganized mess. Bakugo's lips curled into a sneer.  

"Tch. Figures you'd pull some crap like this."  

Kirishima scratched the back of his neck, sheepishly avoiding Bakugo's glare. "Look, man, I've got to find her. No one else is doing anything, and I can't just sit around waiting—"  

"Idiot," Bakugo cut him off, slamming the bag back into Kirishima's chest. "You think you're gonna find her on your own? With what? Your 'manly spirit' and a couple thousand yen?"  

Kirishima opened his mouth to argue, but Bakugo's glare silenced him.  

"You're not going anywhere without me."  

Kirishima blinked, caught off guard. "Wait, what?"  

"You heard me, dumbass." Bakugo turned toward the door, cracking his knuckles. "If you're gonna be reckless, you're not doing it alone. Now hurry up before someone else catches us."

Kirishima stared at Bakugo, dumbfounded. "You're serious? You're actually coming with me?"

"Did I fucking stutter?" Bakugo snapped, yanking the door open a crack to peek outside. "Now stop wasting time and—"

"Going somewhere?"

The sharp, familiar voice sent both boys freezing in their tracks. Slowly, they turned to see Aizawa standing at the base of the staircase, arms crossed and hair disheveled like he'd just rolled out of bed—which, knowing him, he probably had.

"Shit," Kirishima muttered under his breath, shooting Bakugo a panicked glance.

Bakugo, of course, looked completely unbothered. "Tch. What're you doing up, Eraserhead?"

Aizawa raised an eyebrow, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "I could ask you the same thing. Two students sneaking out in the middle of the night? Doesn't take a genius to figure out something's up."

Kirishima swallowed hard, gripping the strap of his backpack. "Look, Mr. Aizawa, I—I can explain—"

"You're going to find Emi." It wasn't a question. Aizawa's tone was flat, as if he'd already pieced the whole thing together.

Kirishima's shoulders slumped. There was no point in lying. "Yeah. I just... I can't sit here anymore. She needs someone, and no one's doing anything to help her. I have to go."

Aizawa studied him for a long moment, his tired eyes unreadable. Then, he turned his attention to Bakugo. "And you?"

Bakugo shoved his hands in his pockets, his expression defiant. "What, you think I'm gonna let this idiot run off on his own and get himself killed? Someone's gotta watch his back."

The room fell into an awkward silence. Kirishima braced himself for a lecture, or worse—for Aizawa to drag them both back upstairs by the scruff of their necks.

But instead, Aizawa let out a weary sigh. "You two really are hopeless."

Kirishima blinked. "Wait... you're not going to stop us?"

Aizawa pinched the bridge of his nose, looking more exhausted than ever. "Stopping you won't change anything. If I send you back to bed, you'll just try again tomorrow—or the night after that." He gave them both a pointed look. "But if you're going, you're going prepared. No recklessness, no unnecessary risks. Got it?"

Bakugo's jaw dropped slightly. "You're actually letting us go?"

"Not yet," Aizawa said, rubbing his temples. "But before you charge off into the unknown, there's something you should know."

Kirishima and Bakugo exchanged confused looks as Aizawa leaned against the banister.

"Emi isn't just grieving," he began. "She's with Hawks."

"Hawks?" Kirishima's eyes widened. "Wait, why? What's she doing with him?"

"She's helping him track down Kazuo," Aizawa explained, his voice even but heavy.

The revelation hit Kirishima like a freight train. "She... she volunteered? But why would you let her do that? She just lost her parents, and now she's chasing after the guy who—who—"

"I didn't approve it lightly," Aizawa interrupted, his tone sharp but understanding. "But Emi insisted. She said she wouldn't be able to live with herself if she didn't stop him from hurting anyone else. Hawks is keeping her safe. I've been monitoring the situation, but I didn't tell you because I knew how you'd react."

Kirishima's fists clenched at his sides, his emotions swirling between frustration and pride. "You still could've told me! I could've helped her—I should have helped her!"

Aizawa sighed again, his voice softening. "I get it. You care about her. That's why I'm going to let you go. But if you're going to do this, you're doing it the right way. No recklessness, no unnecessary risks. Got it?"

Bakugo snorted. "What, you're just letting us walk out the door now?"

"On one condition," Aizawa said, giving them a hard look. "You check in. Regularly. Hawks will be informed you're coming, and if I think for one second you're in over your heads, I'm pulling you out. Understand?"

Kirishima nodded eagerly; his determination renewed. "Yes, sir! Thank you, Mr. Aizawa!"

Aizawa waved them off, already heading back upstairs. "Don't make me regret this. And tell Hawks I said you're his problem now."

As soon as Aizawa disappeared, Bakugo smirked, slapping Kirishima on the back. "Well, what the hell are you waiting for? Let's go."

-

The steady roar of traffic and the sharp tang of salt in the air greeted Kirishima as he adjusted the straps on his backpack, his eyes fixed on the Golden Gate Bridge in the distance. The streets of San Francisco were alive with motion, and Kirishima couldn't help but gawk at the steep hills, which seemed like something straight out of a movie.

"This place is wild," Kirishima muttered, sidestepping a group of tourists snapping photos.

"Wild? It's a nightmare," Bakugo growled, glaring at the city map on his phone. "Who builds a city with hills this steep? Feels like I'm training every time we walk ten feet."

Kirishima chuckled, trying to keep things light. "Hey, at least it's good cardio. Plus, it's kinda cool, don't you think? The view's amazing."

Bakugo shot him a withering glare. "The only thing amazing is how you haven't tripped and rolled down one of these hills yet, you dumbass."

Kirishima grinned sheepishly, deciding not to push his luck. He pulled out a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket—a note from Hawks with an address scribbled on it. According to Aizawa, Hawks had set up a safe house in the city, where they might find Emi or at least a lead on her whereabouts.

"You sure this is the right street?" Kirishima asked, squinting at the handwritten address.

"Of course it is," Bakugo snapped, shoving his phone into his pocket. "Now shut up and keep up. We're almost there."

When they finally reached the safe house, night was falling, the city lights flickering on one by one. Bakugo knocked sharply on the door, his expression tense. "If this is another waste of time, I'm gonna—"

The door swung open before he could finish, and Kirishima's heart leapt. "Emi?" he blurted out, stepping forward.

But it wasn't Emi—it was Hawks, leaning casually against the doorframe, dressed in a hoodie and jeans. His ever-present smirk widened when he saw them.

"Took you two long enough," Hawks said, gesturing for them to come inside. "I was starting to think you got lost."

Bakugo scoffed, brushing past him. "Maybe if you didn't send us to a city with more hills than sense, we wouldn't have wasted half a day getting here."

Hawks laughed as he closed the door behind them. "Relax, kid. You're here now, and just in time."

Kirishima glanced around the room, his chest tightening with anticipation. "Is Emi here? Is she okay?"

Hawks' smirk faltered, his tone turning serious. "She's not here right now, but she's safe. In fact, I think she's working right now."

Kirishima's heart sank. "Why didn't she tell me? Why didn't you tell me?"

"She didn't want anyone from U.A. involved," Hawks said plainly. "She knows how much you care, but she also knows how dangerous this is. She didn't want to drag you into something this messy."

"That's not her decision to make!" Kirishima burst out, his voice rising. "I'm here now, and I'm not leaving until she's safe."

Hawks sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Man, you're just as stubborn as she is. No wonder you two are a thing."

Bakugo crossed his arms, glaring. "Enough with the jokes. Where is she?"

Hawks gestured to a map spread across the table, pointing towards the Fisherman's Wharf. "If you move fast, you can probably catch her before she heads back."

Kirishima didn't need to hear anything else. He was already moving toward the door, his heart pounding with urgency. Bakugo followed close behind, muttering something about reckless idiots, while Hawks trailed after them with a shrug.

When they finally made it to the wharf, Kirishima and Bakugo weaved through the chaos, their eyes scanning every corner of the lively waterfront. "She'd better be here," Bakugo grumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I'm not walking another damn mile in this stupid city."

"She'll be here," Kirishima said with more confidence than he felt. His heart was racing, a mix of anticipation and nerves. The idea of finally seeing Emi again after weeks of silence made his chest tighten.

Hawks, walking a few steps behind them, suddenly stopped. He tilted his head slightly, his sharp eyes locked on a cluster of people near one of the quieter piers.

"There," Hawks said, pointing subtly as one of his feathers came back to him.

Kirishima followed his gaze, and his heart skipped a beat. Emi was there. Right in front of him, and within reach. He needed to run to her, needed to wrap his arms around her and never let go.

She stood with a small group of people, her dark red hair unmistakable against the backdrop of the bay. She was talking animatedly, her hands moving as she spoke, and for a moment, Kirishima's heart slammed against his ribs at the sight of her. She was okay—alive, moving, breathing. Relief washed over him so fast it nearly made him dizzy.

But as his gaze lingered, he noticed the people around her. A handful of unfamiliar faces—her former classmates, he guessed. They were chatting with her like old friends, their casual familiarity forming a circle around her.

"Oi, Red," Bakugo muttered, nudging him. "You gonna stand there gawking all night, or are we doing this?"

Snapping out of his daze, Kirishima nodded and took a deep breath. Then, before he could second-guess himself, he broke into a jog toward her.

"Emi!" he called, his voice cracking slightly with urgency.

She froze mid-sentence, her entire body stiffening as if she couldn't believe what she'd just heard. Slowly, she turned, her eyes wide. When she saw him, time seemed to stop.

"Kirishima?" Her voice was soft, barely audible over the noise of the wharf, but the way she said his name made his heart ache. For a moment, neither of them moved. Then, she broke into a run, closing the distance between them in seconds.

Kirishima barely had time to brace himself before she threw her arms around his neck, holding on so tightly he could feel the desperation in her grip. He froze for half a second, overwhelmed by the flood of emotions—relief, joy, and a deep, aching longing he hadn't even realized he'd been carrying.

"Emi," he murmured, his arms wrapping around her instinctively. She was warm, solid, real. And she was here.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice trembling against his shoulder. "You shouldn't have come."

Her words didn't match the way she clung to him, like he was the only thing anchoring her in the moment. Kirishima felt her trembling slightly, and it broke something in him.

"How could I not come?" he said softly, pulling back just enough to look at her. "I was worried about you. I didn't know if you were safe, or if..." He trailed off, his throat tightening.

Emi stared up at him, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. For a moment, all the noise of the city faded away, leaving just the two of them. "I missed you," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm so sorry I never called you."

Kirishima's heart swelled. He cupped her cheek gently, his thumb brushing against her skin as if reassuring himself she was really there. "I missed you too. So much."

"Oi, lovebirds," Bakugo snapped from behind them, his tone sharp enough to cut through the moment. "You can cry about how much you missed each other later. We've got bigger problems, remember?"

Emi stepped back reluctantly, wiping her eyes and straightening her posture. She glanced at Bakugo, then at Hawks, who had joined the group and was leaning casually against a nearby railing. Finally, her gaze drifted to her former classmates, who were watching the reunion with a mix of curiosity and awkwardness.

"You came all this way?" she asked Kirishima, her voice softer now, her expression a mixture of guilt and amazement.

"Of course I did," he said earnestly. "I couldn't just sit around and do nothing while you were out here dealing with all this alone. You don't have to face this by yourself, Emi."

She swallowed hard, her eyes searching his. For a brief moment, she looked like she might argue, but then her shoulders sagged in defeat. "You don't know what you're getting into," she said, her voice laced with worry.

Kirishima stepped closer, his hands resting gently on her shoulders. "You don't get to make that decision for me. I don't care how dangerous it is—I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. You're not doing this without me."

Her lower lip trembled, but she nodded, a shaky smile breaking through the tears threatening to spill. "I'm glad you're here," she whispered.

Hawks cleared his throat, stepping into the circle. "Hate to interrupt, but we've got work to do. Kazuo's not gonna wait around while you two catch up."

Emi nodded, her expression shifting to something more resolute. "There's a lot to explain," she said, glancing at the group.

"Then start talking," Bakugo said, crossing his arms. But his tone was softer than usual, and instead of glaring, his sharp crimson eyes locked on Emi. For a moment, his usual scowl was replaced by something else—concern.

"Oi," he muttered, stepping closer to her. "You look like crap."

Emi blinked, caught off guard by the blunt statement.

"Seriously, you're run down. You've been pushing yourself too hard, haven't you?" Bakugo continued, his voice low but firm. "What the hell were you thinking, taking all this on by yourself?"

Emi opened her mouth to respond, but Bakugo cut her off with a frustrated growl. "You're a dumbass, y'know that? If you'd just said something, we could've been here sooner. You're lucky nothing's happened to you."

Kirishima watched the exchange in stunned silence, recognizing the gruff concern beneath Bakugo's words. For all his barking, Bakugo wasn't just angry—he was worried.

Emi's lips parted in surprise, and for a moment, she seemed unsure how to respond. Then, she smiled faintly, her voice soft. "Thanks, Bakugo. It's good to see you too."

"Tch." Bakugo turned away, his ears slightly red. "Yeah, whatever. Just don't pull this crap again, got it? You're not invincible."

Emi nodded, her smile growing. "Got it."

Hawks let out a low whistle, clearly amused. "Wow, didn't know you had a soft spot, kid. Nice to see you care."

"Shut up, birdbrain!" Bakugo snapped, his temper flaring again. "Let's just get moving already!"

"Oh, Bakugo has a soft spot, alright. He just covers it with insults and curse words," Emi teased, a grin tugging at her lips. She nudged Kirishima playfully, and he chuckled, nodding in agreement.

"She's right, man," Kirishima added with a grin. "It's like his defense mechanism or something."

Emi smirked, turning to Hawks. "You'll see, Hawks. I'm always right about these things."

Bakugo, walking ahead of them, whipped around with a scowl, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. "Keep running your mouths, and I'll show you what a real soft spot looks like—when I blast you halfway back to Japan!"

Hawks raised an eyebrow, an amused smile tugging at his lips. "Sounds like they've got you all figured out."

"Shut up!" Bakugo barked, turning back around, his ears faintly pink.

Emi stifled a laugh, glancing up at Kirishima, who was grinning down at her. For a moment, the tension that had gripped her for weeks seemed to lift, replaced by the warmth of having her friends by her side – the warmth of Kirishima by her side.

Still, as they walked, her mind drifted back to the task at hand. Kazuo was still out there, and every moment they spent bantering felt like borrowed time.

"They're not going to stop, are they?" she murmured, her voice barely audible over the bustle of the wharf.

Kirishima turned to her, his sharp crimson eyes filled with concern. "Kazuo and Dabi? Not a chance. Guys like them don't give up easily."

"Especially Kazuo," Emi said, her voice hardening. "He's not just after power. He's after me. This is personal for him."

Kirishima frowned, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "And that's exactly why we're not letting you face this alone."

Emi glanced up at him, her expression softening. "I know. I just... I hate that I'm dragging you into this again. You've already risked so much."

"Stop," Kirishima said firmly, stepping in front of her. His voice was low but steady, filled with an unwavering determination. "You're not dragging anyone into anything, Emi. We're here because we want to be. Because we care about you. You don't have to face this alone anymore."

Her breath hitched slightly at his words, and she quickly looked away, her cheeks warming. "You're too good to me," she muttered.

Kirishima's lips curved into a gentle smile. "You deserve it."

Ahead of them, Bakugo turned around, clearly having heard at least part of the conversation. "Ugh, quit your mushy crap. We've got bigger things to focus on."

Emi laughed softly despite herself. "Good to see you're as sensitive as ever, Bakugo."

Bakugo crossed his arms, his sharp gaze locking onto her. "I'm serious. If those bastards show up again, I'm not holding back. You're not getting taken again, got it?"

Once back inside the safehouse, Hawks spread a map of the city across a table, marking several points in red. The dim light cast shadows on the walls, the atmosphere growing heavier with each second.

"The idea's simple," Hawks began. "We let word get out that Emi's here—quietly, through the Emi's old classmates. And he's probably not dragging Dabi into this; he'll want to settle this himself."

Kirishima frowned, his fists tightening at his sides. "But putting Emi out there like bait—"

"It's the only way," Emi interrupted, her voice steady despite the unease in her chest. "Kazuo isn't stupid. He'll see through anything less. I know him, Kirishima. If we want to draw him out, I have to make him believe this is his chance."

Bakugo shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Just don't make this harder than it needs to be."

Hawks leaned casually against the table with a smirk. "Bakugo's got a point. We're playing this smart. If Kazuo's as obsessive as you say, Emi, he'll take the bait. He won't be able to resist coming after you."

"But without Dabi?" Emi said, crossing her arms. "He's bold, but not reckless."

Hawks raised an eyebrow. "You said it yourself—this is personal. He doesn't want to share you with anyone, not even a teammate like Dabi. And if he thinks you're back here, alone, in a place he knows better than anyone? He'll come."

"I don't like it," Kirishima admitted. "But I'll be there. I'm not letting him lay a hand on you."

Emi's heart squeezed at his words, and she gave him a small, grateful smile. "I know. I trust you."

Bakugo crossed his arms, his sharp gaze darting between them. "You better," he muttered, his voice gruff. "Because if that bastard tries anything, I'll blow him into next week."

Emi glanced at him, her a smirk forming on her lips. "Thanks, Bakugo, that's so helpful. Just blast everything in your path, right?"

"I'll blast you out of my way if I have to, Iron Maiden!" 

Hawks cleared his throat, breaking the tension. "Alright, let's focus. We set up a presence at a few key spots—places Kazuo would associate with Emi. The idea is to give him enough breadcrumbs to make him think he's found her on his terms. When he shows, we'll isolate him and take him down. Quick and clean."

Emi studied the map, her brows furrowing as she pointed to a mark near the pier. "This spot—it's where Kazuo used to train. If he's looking for familiarity, he might head there first."

Kirishima placed a hand on her shoulder, his touch steady and reassuring. "Then that's where we'll be."

She looked up at him, her resolve strengthening. For the first time, the weight of this fight didn't feel so heavy. With Kirishima, Bakugo, and Hawks by her side, she wasn't alone.

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