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There was no stifling that shared look of malice in everyone’s eyes.
Even after an hour, the mood settled over class 1-A did not lighten even the slightest. There would be no getting over what had happened anytime soon—no forgetting the tears they’d all seen rolling down Aoyama’s terrified face. That sight was something that would remain branded onto their collective minds throughout and even beyond the scope of the final battle that awaited them all.
They were going to defeat All For One if it meant their lives. That much was certain now.
“It’s about time to gear up, yeah…?”
Kirishima’s voice seemed loud in the common area after such a long period of silence, but his comment was followed up with a few scattered nods. Others merely got up from their seats one by one to start making their way to the exit, but in general, the atmosphere remained relatively cold. They were all thinking the same thing, after all. Remembering the same vivid moment from an hour ago in excruciating detail.
Despite the grim nature of it all though, their faces were not hopeless. Each student, as they quietly made their way outside, carried themselves with an aura of determination that should’ve betrayed their expected tone.
“We will definitely defeat them…!” Hagakure hissed under her breath, and once again, her sentiment was mirrored by everyone else in the room.
Yes!
At some point near the exit though, as the group was in the midst of departing, Iida hung back for a moment—catching the eye of Midoriya. They both paused as they made eye contact with each other, gazes easing only a fraction before they started to leave side by side.
“I’ve got to do something about my hero costume first,” Iida mentioned as they walked, “It ended up in tattered pieces, after all. I’ll need to swing by the support department.”
“In that case, me too,” Midoriya sighed, squinting slightly down at his feet, “I just about ruined mine as much as I possibly could have. There’s no way I’ll be wearing it into the next battle.”
“Shall we go together then?”
At that prompting, Midoriya nodded, and the two of them broke off from the rest of the class to go and make one last quick visit to the development studio. It was a bit of a detour from here—the others would probably have to wait on them for a bit, but this was necessary. They weren’t about to saunter into their patrol armor-less, after all.
It didn’t take more than a few minutes to arrive at the doorway to the studio, but the time it took felt a lot longer somehow. Between the palpable tension in the air, and Iida’s anxious, swirling thoughts, he hadn’t been able to come up with any topics of conversation. After all, even aside from the whole ordeal regarding Aoyama, Iida had been harboring a separate apprehension at the thought of going to the studio; and once the familiar door was within sight, he was hit with a paralyzing pang straight to his heart.
It was enough to almost make him freeze in place.
Memories poured in, stirred up by the sight of that hanging sign above the doorway. Memories of adventures had—long-distant ones now, from back when he was still a bright-eyed first-year. Lots of running and screaming had been involved; the result of countless failed “experiments”, that the infamous Hatsume Mei had conducted in his presence. Running from robots, getting locked in the warehouse, crashing into the outside wall of the gym…
But of course, what all of those bittersweet memories had in common, was her.
It had been so long since Iida had seen Hatsume now, that he’d almost forgotten what it’d been like to be near her. Chaotic, yes—their time together often was; but that aside, it was also a fact that he’d been dating her consistently for almost the entirety of that year before everything went south.
Between All For One’s resurgence in power, Shigaraki’s attack on Japan, and the maximum security prison, Tartarus, getting breached; heroes worldwide, as well as Iida and class 1-A had been preoccupied with the task of damage control until some kind of headway could be established. Obviously, that had not been accomplished even now—the world outside of UA was currently still a ravaged mess. But the point here, was that amongst all this time he’d spent chasing down villains with his companions, Iida had not had even a second to breathe. That of course, also meant that he’d gone all these months without so much as saying hello to his beloved nutcase of a partner.
It sent a chill through him as he stared solemnly up at the sign, but Midoriya’s resulting glance at him made Iida blink back to reality. Midoriya looked about ready to ask if he was okay, and frankly, he didn’t really want to be asked that right now.
I should just hurry and get this over with, Iida told himself sharply, not letting his emotions alter the stoic expression on his face, I’ll see her there. There’s no avoiding it. But I’m certain she’s as preoccupied as I am, so I shouldn’t burden her with my presence for too long… he gripped one of his fists, It’s better if we don’t distract each other.
With that gloomy thought, Iida placed his hand over the door handle, and, though hesitant, he gave it a firm push.
Barely an inch’s worth of slack in the doorway suddenly resulted in a plume of smoke to the face. Iida, blinking in shock, didn’t even have time to react as the door was thrown backwards on its hinges—sending out with it a powerful force that knocked him flat to the floor. He felt his head rattle from the whiplash, and let out a sharp wheeze of discomfort as the world became temporarily lopsided. When he eventually opened his eyes, blinking and coughing as he fanned smoke out of his face, he was greeted with an unanticipatedly squishy—and familiar—sensation.
“It’s like… déjà vu…!” Midoriya remarked shrilly.
In the meantime, a voice on top of Iida spoke directly to him with a tone that honestly shattered all sense of valor he’d had walking up here.
“Oh! Well, if it isn’t Tenya! It’s been a minute, hasn’t it!?”
“Ghak—!”
Iida flailed underneath Hatsume as she broke into a sudden jovial laugh—even prodding him playfully once in his face despite how he would’ve appreciated. Thanks to whatever had exploded moments ago, her bosom was practically smushed in his face; and though it was true they were technically “together”, and thus were comfortable with physical touch, this level of closeness was still undoubtedly too far. Clearly she was enjoying the way it made him squirm though, because it wasn’t until she’d finished giggling when she finally scooted back off of him.
The moment Hatsume was off of Iida, he stood up somewhat shakily—caught entirely off his guard by what’d happened.
I spent all this time mentally steeling myself, and just like that, I’m reduced to a stammering mess—! he lamented silently, not looking at her even after they were both upright again.
“Haha, sorry about that!” Hatsume grinned, readjusting her jumpsuit which had started to slip halfway down her waist from the explosion, “Anyway, what brings you two here? It’s been a bit since I’ve seen any 1-A students!”
Despite how the subject had already been changed, Midoriya was still grimacing visibly in her direction. Iida supposed that made sense for him—Midoriya was always the type to get flustered around girls, but he’d somewhat been counting on Midoriya to at least keep some of his composure. It would’ve helped Iida move on if he’d just act naturally, but…
“(Wh-why didn’t my Danger Sense activate…?)” he mumbled instead, to which Iida let out an audible sigh.
“H… hello Hatsume,” he coughed embarrassedly, “we’re here on account of our hero costumes. They got damaged the other day when we were out in the field, and so we need repairs…”
As Iida laid out his explanation though, for some reason, Hatsume responded with a cock of her head.
“Why don’t you take them to the item office like always?”
Iida blinked, giving her the same clueless expression back, “We can’t count on the office right now because their distribution lines are crippled at the moment. That’s why we thought to come here…”
There was an odd pause as she smiled down at the floor, then rather unexpectedly—enough to make Iida jump—she suddenly shouted: “Is that right!? I see!”
“Huh?”
Iida stared perplexedly at her for long enough that some of her zealousness trickled away again, and she returned back an equally confused: “Huh!?”
They all stopped what they were doing at that moment to just stare at each other until the truth slowly became obvious.
“Wait… Hatsume, don’t tell me that…” Midoriya started to say, but mentally, Iida finished his thought.
Does she not have any idea what the outside looks like right now!?
As the three of them continued to linger in their confusion though, the smoke spilling out of the doorway eventually started to clear up, and they turned in time to hear the voice of someone coughing on the other side.
“*Cough*, *cough*, Hatsume, why do all of your little experiments always end in an explosion…?” the person grunted, eventually revealing themselves to be Power Loader as he came stumbling out into the hallway, “You kids want costume repairs, eh? Come on in.”
Thankfully, once the three of them were inside of the development studio, things started to get back on track again. Midoriya and Iida once again felt that rekindled sense of urgency as they gave the huge room a once-over—taking note of the rushing students, and the mess of tech parts that were scattered all over the tables and floor. Iida swallowed tightly the longer he watched it all, passively listening as Power Loader explained their situation.
“We were in charge of developing the UA barrier, as well as controlling it when it’s operational. That’s mainly the contributor for the mess,” he huffed, kicking aside something unimportant looking as he directed them to a different corner of the room, “Anyway, bring over your costumes, let’s see what we can do for you two.”
Midoriya and Iida both gave him a nod as they popped open their costume cases—Midoriya starting off with his tattered mid-gauntlets. Shortly after activating them, he launched into an explanation of what he needed, and Hatsume rushed over to decide what she could do to repair them. They talked for a few minutes or so like that, Iida watching silently from afar all the while.
She just got straight to business, Iida noted to himself, squinting slightly as she turned Midoriya’s gauntlet over in her hands a few times, I can’t pretend like that’s a surprise, she’s always been diligent when it came to inventing. But…
Hatsume eventually tossed the gauntlet back into Midoriya’s hands—sprinting off towards her workbench again with remarkable speed.
Frankly, it was strange to see her at work again like this. It almost felt like he was watching a slice of his past with her—all of those countless impromptu visits he’d made to her studio, back when they were still just friends. What didn’t quite feel right though, was that Iida knew that now wasn’t back then. He knew Hatsume better now. Just by turning around, he could even pinpoint the corner of this very room where he’d professed his love to her. Heck, he’d pinned her to that same wall and kissed her, for crying out loud. So then why…?
Could it be that she’s… moved on?
His lower lip tightened, and Iida found his gaze lowering to the floor.
Even though it was unavoidable, I made her wait and wait until eventually life got too busy to make time for each other. Did the feelings fizzle out when I was away? I know I haven’t called her and visited her nearly enough, but surely that can’t mean that she’s over me, right?
Unexpectedly though, as he was in the midst of his discordant thinking, he suddenly blinked when a snapping noise drew him back into the real world. His eyes focused forward again, and he found Hatsume standing in front of him with her fingers impatiently in front of his face. It made him stiffen up almost immediately.
“Hey! Earth to engine head!” she clipped, then jabbed a finger at the broken piece of his costume he was currently holding, “Ya need that fixed? Tell me what part it is!”
Iida stammered as she eyed him expectantly, once again off-put by how energetic she was being. He still expected her to do something that hinted she still had feelings for him—something flirtatious, perhaps. The jab in the cheek had seemed to be a hint, but it’d been rather small.
“Um—it’s uh, my sleeve cover?” he responded, still flustered.
Unfortunately, just as quickly, Hatsume whipped back around to hurry away to her desk once he’d answered her.
“Izzat so!? Too bad! No spec docs! Can’t do it right now!”
Iida admittedly couldn’t hide his disappointment this time as she turned him down to resume her work once again.
Well, that was certainly frank, he mused to himself, But again, her lack of affection is just… jarring! I’m so conflicted. After all, I want to at least get some assurance from her—just something to know she’s missed me, but I also get the impression that she’s extremely busy right now and that I need to leave her alone. Ugh, what do I do…?
Just as she took a seat though, Iida shuffled over beside Midoriya, and was somewhat intrigued to find Hatsume frenziedly pressing buttons with her right hand, while she assembled something else with her left. It was fascinating enough to watch that they both went quiet for a minute.
Displayed on the screen before her, there appeared to be an array of high-tech blueprints for something. Iida didn’t immediately recognize what they were for at first, but thankfully he had Midoriya next to him, and because of his hero fanaticism and general nerdiness, he of course was able to identify what they were.
“Oh! Are those the evac shelter blocks!?” he blinked, then let out a sound of awe as the picture display shifted, “Are they blasting off!? Cool!”
“Right, I enlisted Hatsume to help improve our defenses,” Power Loader remarked suddenly, and once again, they all turned to face him, “She’s busy concocting new mechanisms in case of a mass evacuation.”
When he said this, Iida’s eyes softened somewhat, So she’s been hard at work, then.
“Like I alluded to before, her zeal and inventive mind has put her in a league of her own,” Iida felt a pat to his shoulder, and turned to find that Power Loader seemed to be trying to sympathize with him. Of course… he’d been following their relationship quietly for a while now. He must’ve had an idea then why Iida couldn’t help but feel somber right now.
“She’s been hard at work for days like this,” he went on, then lowered his voice, “(so don’t bother getting all sorry. I know you’ve probably been missing her, but don’t take her curtness with you too personally, okay?)”
Iida clenched his fist slightly, but otherwise didn’t reply. Power Loader’s words were fair, after all. It made sense that she’d been just as busy as him, trying to establish some semblance of order in the chaotic world that was Japan right now. In that sense, he actually felt a tad bit relieved. They hadn’t missed each other much at all, because there hadn’t been any time to.
But all the same, Iida was staring at her right now, and well…
An hour—no, a half hour. That’s all I want. Just… that much, so we can talk.
…he was starting to realize that, depending on how the upcoming war goes, it might be a long time before he’ll ever see her again.
In fact… worst case, he might never see her again.
“…Don’t be dense, Midoriya! As dense as high-density polyethylene!”
“E-excuse me? I don’t get it…”
Iida tuned back in at that point of the conversation
“Of course I’m aware of the nasty predicament you heroes are facing out there. We may not be fighters, but just like how you guys are trying every trick in the book to protect as many people as possible, we’re tackling it in our own way.”
The next time Hatsume spoke, she turned so she could smile at the both of them.
“Inventing stuff is how the support course does heroics.”
A sting in Iida’s heart.
Somewhat sheepishly, Iida shrugged off Power Loader’s hand and took a step forward.
This proved it. Hatsume really had been busy all this time. He was certain that between working on the evacuation blocks and any other tech repairs, she’d probably been swamped. So had he, yes; but neither of their jobs were more or less important than the other in the grand scheme of things.
Yet right now, all I can do is mope about the time I can’t spend with her. How selfish of me…
“Wow, Hatsume—” Midoriya started to say, but just as he spoke, he was cut off by her suddenly flinging costume parts into his face.
“I couldn’t replicate them exactly. My babies might not be the latest and greatest, but please put them to work for you,” she said quickly, already reaching for something else.
“Gloves included!? Neat! Did your left hand alone just whip these up!? Thanks so much!”
“And this is no perfect replica of your armor, Iida, but…” she turned to Iida this time, about ready to fling his items into his face as well, but he caught her wrist before she could. When they made eye contact, her beaming face actually faltered for the first time since he’d come here.
As a result, after a second or two of awkward pause, Hatsume swallowed harshly and handed Iida’s costume parts to him directly.
“…this should suffice.” she finished, to which Iida nodded.
“Thank you. And… I understand.”
When he released her, she turned sharply back to her workstation—though there was a bit less haste in her work ethic now. The next time she spoke, her smile tapered at the edges—less sincere than it’d been before.
“When you go back, please give your hero course pals a message for me:” she stooped her head, one hand clenching firmly over her wrench.
“Let’s win this.”
At those three words, Iida and Midoriya both turned their backs to her and stepped out of the development studio. The door behind them didn’t close of course, since the explosion earlier had broken it, but once the two of them were out in the hall again, Iida felt his heartrate begin to ease.
It still bothered him to leave like this, without so much as a casual word exchanged. But, as he looked down at the brand-new costume parts in his arms, Iida realized that he would have to be okay with that. There just wasn’t time to talk right now.
All the same, there wasn’t even time to say goodbye.
“Iida? What’re you waiting for?”
Iida startled at the sound of his name, and looked up to find Midoriya a few paces ahead of him down the hall. He’d fallen behind, apparently.
“A-ah… right.” he muttered, but as he started to come forward, Midoriya held up a hand to stop him.
“Hold on. Before we leave, are you okay? You seem a bit…” he shrugged vaguely, “I don’t know.”
Iida’s expression soured slightly as he turned off to the side. He should’ve known better than to think his perceptive friend wouldn’t notice him hurting. Especially since, if he recalled right, Midoriya had had a hand in helping him confess to Hatsume in the first place. It only made sense that Midoriya would notice if something was off between them.
“You’re astute as ever, but I’ll be fine,” Iida sighed reluctantly, scratching the back of his head, “I’d just kind of hoped that Mei and I would be able to exchange a few words. That’s all, really…” he shook his head, “There’s just no time for that though. I recognize that we have to get moving.”
He was about to stride past Midoriya, but before he could, Midoriya suddenly hurried in front of his path again, shaking his head.
“I can buy you a few minutes, it’s really not a hassle,” he urged, “You should go back.”
“No, I…” Iida huffed solemnly down at the floor, “I shouldn’t distract her.”
“But we don’t even know if we’ll be coming back here,” Midoriya continued, his eyebrows starting to knit together with concern, “Iida, what if you run out of time before the fight starts? Are you sure you don’t even want like… five minutes?”
Iida went quiet at that suggestion, finally starting to wonder if he should take this opportunity after all.
“Our classmates would understand,” Midoriya pressed.
Iida paced slowly off to the side, staring quietly at the wall as he continued to weigh his options. Midoriya’s words were heavy. In a way, they implied that this very moment, should he not survive the upcoming battle against All For One, could be his last chance to part with the girl he loved. That possibility about made his heart choke.
Death.
After today, there was a possibility that he, or even Hatsume, could…
In the end, Iida never got to make his decision. Midoriya, seeing that he was frozen in place, took that as a clear enough answer for him to leave.
“I’ll go ahead and let the others know you need some extra time,” he said, then bolted off in the opposite direction before he could even reply, “Take as long as you need, Iida!”
Iida almost reached out his arm to protest again, but unlike the other times, no words came out. When Midoriya was gone from the end of the hall, Iida let out a hefty sigh, and rubbed at the back of his neck with awkward concern. Midoriya had just opened up an opportunity. Iida now had about five or ten minutes where he could potentially talk things over with Hatsume—perhaps exchange some quiet words, or maybe even a farewell kiss. That was all quite tempting, but still, she was in the middle of working, and if he pulled her away from that project of hers, then he'd surely face her wrath…
However as Iida turned back around to reapproach the doorway, he found that Hatsume was already standing there at the entrance.
Iida’s hand faltered behind his neck from the shock. She was turned away at the moment, both hands clenched up around her collar as she peered around the hall. Iida almost felt as if he should hide himself—not ready yet to confront her so soon like this—but she whipped her head around his direction before he could make up his mind, and suddenly their eyes met.
Surprise crossed her face at first, and then her eyes softened a fraction. For once, she wasn’t smiling.
Neither of them said much as they crossed the distance that barred them. When they were face to face, with her head craning up to look at him, the air was tense and apprehensive for at least a minute until one of them spoke.
“You… came back,” Iida commented.
Wordlessly, without even breathing a response, Hatsume brought up both of her arms, and hugged him tightly around the middle.
Iida startled somewhat as she buried her face in his chest—his body suddenly flooding from head to toe with warmth. One of his arms staggered, and then cautiously, Iida pulled her into a gentle but firm embrace.
They didn’t speak in that moment. The somber quiet spoke for itself. There was a weight around them in the air—something they didn’t need to verbally address to still be aware of. The longer he held her, the more reality slowly started to sink in.
This wasn’t a hug of greeting, nor even one of affection.
This was a goodbye.
“Futsu and Muryo said I needed to step out,” Hatsume murmured sheepishly, her words muffled slightly as she spoke with her face still buried in Iida’s chest, “They said the evac blocks can wait five minutes, but that you won’t.”
Iida’s gaze softened sadly, and he reached up with one hand to stroke her hair, “Well they weren’t wrong. I was intending to leave, but Midoriya didn’t let me. I was concerned I’d be a distraction to you…”
Her arms stiffened around him, “You are. But you’re a needed one.”
Iida about choked up in response to that.
Hatsume’s voice sounded so hollow now. She’d been bright and peppy mere moments ago—had she been masking her true feelings?
“You’ve been cooped up in here for a long time, haven’t you?”
She paused for a moment before untucking her face so she could let out a sigh, “I slept here last night for about five hours. The day before that, Maijima Sensei made me go home to rest, but I pulled an all-nighter on Wednesday, and slept for three hours here at the studio on Tuesday. It’s been sporadic… these days even if teach sends me home to rest, I can’t even fall asleep properly. I think I’m developing insomnia.”
She finally peered up at him, and for the first time, Iida really noticed just how heavy the bags under her eyes were.
“And you…?”
Iida shook his head, “It’s been about the same on my end. We’re luckily able to rotate which of us goes on patrols, but based on the power dynamic of the class, either Midoriya, Bakugo, Todoroki, me, or Uraraka are taking the lead for our group missions. I’ll spend upwards of five hours a day just sprinting from one location to the next, between training time and patrols. We get back late at around eleven… some of us have gotten assigned to overnight shifts in cases of emergency.
“There was a day earlier this week where I left for patrol from 9 to 7, slept for about 4-ish hours, and then got up again at 3 to apprehend a suspicious individual lurking around the premises. When I made it back, the sun was already rising.”
Hatsume grimaced painfully at him, reaching up to cradle his cheek, “So that’s why you look ragged… gosh, at this rate, they ought to start paying us.”
“Maybe, but what good is money even, right now?” Iida sighed, “This isn’t a matter of overwork, it’s a matter of survival. And I hear the pro heroes are pulling 14 hour shifts regularly to keep the premises secure, so we can hardly complain. Plus it’s not like we spend all of our time on our feet or fighting, there’s a lot of sitting and waiting too. Sometimes literal hours of it, to the point where it’s hard to keep your eyes open.”
They were both quiet for a moment after he said that, until Hatsume suddenly gave him a squeeze.
“We were kids, not too long ago. What… happened?”
The air in Iida’s lungs gave out all at once as her words started to sink in. She was… right. When had everything gone so south? When had he, sixteen-year-old, high schooler Iida, gotten wrapped up in a mess as convoluted as this? He was spending his days not learning, but surviving. Rather than cramming his head full of books, he was taking blows to the face, and running from artillery, explosions, or whatever else need be just to protect the people he loved and cared about.
He, a child, was doing these things. All because the adults that had been running Japan had let them all down.
A part of Iida wanted to express frustration; and given all he’d been going through lately, he would’ve been justified in doing so. However, with Hatsume in his arms, he knew better than to intensify those fears of hers. He couldn’t promise her that everything was going to get better, because he didn’t know if that was true, but…
“Was there a reason you were trying to shoo me out so quickly?” Iida asked calmly, continuing to stroke a hand along the back of her head as he talked.
“You mean you couldn’t figure out why…?” Hatsume responded, sniffing slightly.
“You were smiling. How was I supposed to know you were hurting like this if you wouldn’t tell me?”
“F-fair enough…” she grunted, and Iida watched as she wiped a tear out of her eye—though it smudged some dirt over her eyelid in the process.
“I figured… if I just kept smiling, I wouldn’t have time to feel tired. I wouldn’t have time to miss you, or feel… afraid. So when you came, it… sh-shook me a bit. I suddenly realized that you might never come back here. That soon, there’s a possibility that all of this just ends. That’s why I told myself I had to keep working. Because if I stop for even a second, the enemy will have spent that time getting stronger.” Hatsume pursed her lips, “They’re counting on my inventions to be the main line of defense against Shigaraki, so it all depends on me.”
Iida stiffened out of surprise when she finished. Mei’s inventions are going to be what decides the fate of the battle? I knew she was under insane pressure, but that’s—that’s almost too much!
His mind flashed to Midoriya though, and suddenly he realized that there really wasn’t anyone in this war that would have an enviable position. After all, depending on where Iida would be assigned, he could very well go toe-to-toe with an actual League member in the next few days. His situation was hardly better—heck, it was arguably more stressful. But again, in the broad scope of everything, that hardly mattered.
“That’s terrifying,” Iida responded honestly in the end, “There really is so much that’s at stake here, and not a single person is less needed than the other. I can’t pretend like it’s not overwhelming for me too…”
“I bet.”
They both paused again.
“But…” Iida eventually continued, and for the first time that conversation, he took a step away to put her at arm’s length, “All the same, we really do have a job to do. I hate to be that person, but…”
Hatsume’s eyes widened a fraction, but then she bowed her head down at the floor—slowly understanding that this had to happen.
Honestly, Iida wanted to spend all day with her. He wanted to have time to fear, and time to mope. He wanted to hold her longer—to bask in that temporary security for as long as he could, and let the war pass over their heads as they slept soundly side-by-side through it all. He wanted to wake up beside her with the sun streaming through the window on their faces, and a breeze rattling through the veranda; a breeze free of dust, and accompanied by the peaceful song of birds in the wind.
But Iida had a job to do.
The whole reason I became a hero was to guide lost children, Iida thought, his expression hardening with resolve, It was to protect those who can’t protect themselves. To put others in a place of safety so that they don’t have to be the ones getting their hands dirty.
Iida looked at Hatsume, and though the longing in her eyes was more prominent than ever, he knew he had to leave that face behind if he wanted to keep it out of harm’s way.
She’s here doing her part. Now I have to do mine.
“Mei,” Iida coaxed, and she visibly tensed.
Gently, without using words, Iida leaned forward to leave her a soft kiss on her forehead.
“I’m going to put in my all,” he said once he’d pulled back, and made sure to cup both hands around her rosy cheeks. He didn’t want to forget what that felt like between now and tomorrow, “so you keep doing what you do best in here. Don’t let your fear of the unknown intimidate you out of completing your duties, okay?”
Tears started to well up in her eyes. The sensation made her glare, and she started to shove them away out of frustration—as if she were upset at herself for wanting Iida to stay longer—but Iida wiped them away for her.
“It’s okay if you worry about me,” Iida continued, his face softening as she blinked up at him in shock, “I won’t stop thinking about you too. There’s nothing wrong with that… truthfully, I wish I could stay so much longer here with you; but I can’t.”
“S-stop it,” she hissed, then rather unexpectedly, she yanked off both of his hands so she could angrily wipe away her own tears, “Stop talking as if you’re marching to your doom! T-Tenya—all I want is for you to promise me you’ll come back tomorrow. Y-you know—like always?”
Bigger tears spilled out, and this time, she didn’t even try to stop them.
“Just lie to me like a man, you—you engine-head!”
Silently, knowing there was nothing he could say to alleviate her grief, Iida gave her one last tight hug. She didn’t reciprocate it this time—rather, she squirmed in his grasp, crying and even punching him (lightly) a few times, as if it would get him to stop. When he didn’t let go though, she gave up trying, and let the rest of her tears soak into the front of his jumpsuit.
It took minutes before she stopped crying; minutes that Iida knew he didn’t have, yet still chose to spend on comforting her. When eventually her sobs were reduced to sniffles though, Iida took his first step away. She still trembled, clearly unwilling to let him go yet, but didn’t make any efforts to stop him.
She understands this is what has to happen, Iida processed silently to himself, Even though neither of us want this, for the sake of the greater good, we have duties we need to uphold. If we both want to see the sunrise again, we have to protect this country with our own two hands.
About to take his last step out of her grasp, Hatsume pulled him back quickly, and in one swift motion, planted a pair of timid kisses over his lips. His breath caught at the unexpected sensation, but just as quickly, Hatsume released him and stepped away—dropping her arms to her sides as she bore reverently down at the floor.
“Go out there and save people, Ingenium,” she said, and then looked up at the end with rosy and tear-smeared cheeks to add hastily: “And… try to come back in one piece, o-okay?”
Iida’s eyes closed for a moment, processing her words, and then he nodded back to her with a saddened smile about him.
“I’ll do what I can, Mei. Thank you for putting your faith in me.”
With those words, though it pained him more than anything else—more than waking up at 3 AM, or exercising his legs until body creaked—Iida picked up his costume case, and left the development studio for what he could only hope wouldn’t be his last time.