Regret, she realises soon after she wakes up from her coma, is a lot like a cup of water.
It’s not something you necessarily want, but it’s definitely something you need to push through the day. She’d know. She’s been using her regrets as a crutch since she was
But there are times when the water overflows and your regrets start to eat you alive. She’s had enough nights like those to understand.
She’s lost count how many times she’s screamed and wailed at the unfairness of it, all because of mistakes she made as a child.
Sometimes, she sits alone basking in the moonlight that filters through her window, and she regrets.
She regrets a lot of things. She regrets so much she spends hours just sitting there. Thinking, crying, grieving.
Other times she sits there still and solemn, staring at the night sky until she passes out from exhaustion or when the sun peaks from the horizon.
She regrets staying up so late on nights like these, even though her therapist tells her it’s not healthy to dwell on the past.
She should hold her head high and think positively, her therapist advises her. She should probably listen, but what kind of person would she be if she ignored her mistakes?
She regrets not getting a 100 on the latest pop quiz in English. A 97 is nothing to scoff at, but she’s sure that Present Mic was looking at her with disappointment when he handed it back to her.
She remembers giving him a painfully brittle smile as he congratulated her. It’s a shame she couldn’t manage to pull off a better one. It’s a shame it fooled him.
She regrets disappointing her parents. She tries, she really does, but she always manages to disappoint the people who took her in after the tragic
massacre accident that took her biological family away.
They smile at her and say it’s alright and you’re trying too hard, sweetie and next time it’ll work out. But it’s not alright and she isn’t trying hard enough and who’s to say there even will be a next time?
She’s a hero-in-training. Accidents happen. Tragedies happen. With the League of Villains looming over their head, who knows what could happen.
She regrets the little things she does that upset her friends.
The little things, like eating the last cup of pudding that was obviously Kirishima’s considering the way his eyes flashed with annoyance. Like not putting up much of a fight against Sero during training last week, and declining Jirou’s offer to hang out during the weekend because she had to study and I’m so sorry Jirou-chan maybe next time, and pushing her vice presidential duties onto Iida even though he welcomed them with open arms, and bothering Aizawa during break—
There are a lot of little things she’s done that have annoyed her friends. She regrets each and every one so much.
(Please don’t hate me. Please please please. I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry. It’s my fault. It’s all my fault. I’m the one who looked, not Tenko, never him. I didn’t mean to lie—)
Taking Uwabami’s offer of internship was obviously a mistake. She should’ve known the moment Aizawa pursed his lips at seeing her choice, but she was dumb and naïve and, in the end, she became a bother to Todoroki too. It was though sheer luck he managed to pull her out of her self-deprecating slump. She regrets being a nuisance to Todoroki and Aizawa.
There are a lot of things she regrets, some small, some larger, and one above all else.
One night, a long time ago, she disobeyed Father and shifted the blame onto her brother.
That is her biggest regret.
What kind of older sister does that? What kind of older sister willingly places her baby brother in the path of Father’s rage and punishment?
… What kind of older sister stands by and does nothing while her brother – sweet, kind, loveable Tenko – is abused by Father and locked out of the house?
Midoriya reminds her of him, she thinks idly. It’s in the way he walks and smiles and dreams of being a hero—
She can’t look him in the eyes, she’s sure that if she does, she’ll break.
She’s almost glad Tenko’s quirk manifested that night, despite the cost being her whole family, his innocence and six years of her life.
She doesn’t know what happened exactly, but there was pain and then there wasn’t. She woke up in a hospital six years into the future, without her family or anyone by her side.
Police came and went, curious to know what happened that faithful night.
She lied because Tenko didn’t deserve to be martyred just because she failed as a big sister and now is a good time to start acting like one, right? She lied, telling the police she doesn’t remember much because that’s the truth. She only remembers Tenko, the pain, and the guilt.
They marked it off as a villain attack, and life went on.
Eventually, she was adopted by the Yaoyorozu family who were in dire need of an heir and her Creation quirk made her the perfect one. Her name was changed to Momo, and Hana tried her best to bury her memories of the Shimura family.
She grew up with the loving family she always wanted. She trained to be the hero Tenko always wanted to be. She did her best to forget and move on, with a hitch here and there.
But then the USJ happened, and she caught her first glimpse of the man her hero-loving, sweet little brother had become.
She didn’t know it was him at first. How could she? He was nothing like Tenko.
But that quirk and its effects on Aizawa had her reeling. It was too similar to what she experienced to be a coincidence.
And yet… yet denial was so easy.
She slipped up a few times after that, her old habits returning.
Her smiles lost some of their confidence and surety.
Her parents noticed.
They called in her therapist.
It didn’t help.
But somehow, she managed to make it through the Sports Festival, the Internships and the Summer Camp with nary an incident.
The Kamino Ward event woke her up to reality.
Ignorance is, as they say, bliss. But when ignorance is ripped harshly from your grasp you only have the cold hard truth and your own festering guilt left, how do you handle it?
She saw him then, as Shigaraki Tomura, and came to the realisation that she was wrong. That she failed and screwed up so monumentally that there was no way she could ever go back.
A part of her wondered if she created that monster with her decisions and lies, but another part already knew she did.
Guilt returned like the relentless bitch it was, and she was too frozen to do anything. She couldn’t even say that’s my brother my Tenko when Midoriya asked her if she was alright, too hot and too cold at her sheer stupidity.
Momo regrets a lot of things. Above all else, she regrets turning her little brother into the monster called Shigaraki Tomura.
If she had taken the blame that day, would she even be here? Would she be 22 and a housewife like she told Father she wanted to be? Would her brother be younger than her and a hero, not a villain with a body count up in the double digits? Could he have been the number one hero like he promised her he’d be?
A knock on her door interrupts her train of thoughts.
She almost decides to ignore it in favour of pondering on the what-ifs and could-have-beens.
But that wouldn’t be proper of a hero-in-training (what it one of her friends needed her and she didn’t help where she could?) let alone Yaoyorozu Momo.
She wipes her face on the sleeve of her sweater (soft and red, once owned by her mother, Tenko used to love it—) and stands up to open the door. She schools her expression into something open and kind, hoping whoever it was would think her dishevelled appearance is from sleeping.
The door opens, and she already has an apology and excuse ready.
“Sorry for the wait,” her eyes trail up and up until she finds Aizawa’s bloodshot eyes staring down at her. Her smile strains. “Sensei, do you need my help with anything?”
His eyes sharpen. He takes in her appearance and frowns. It looks as though he’s steeling himself for something. Dread pools in her stomach. “Have you… been crying?”
The hesitant and soft way he asks is almost enough to make her spill, but she soldiers on.
“Oh, my hand slipped and I got some make up into my eyes. There’s no need to worry, Aizawa-sense! Onto more important matters, do you need my help with anything?” She clasps her hands together and smiles her perfected I-did-not-just-have-a-mental-breakdown smile at him.
It’ll work, it always does. With her parents, with her friends, with her therapist, even with her teachers. Aizawa is no different.
“Yeah,” he says slowly as if giving her time to reconsider her answer. She doesn’t, so he continues. “I was wondering if you an Iida could organise a class event. Something to get our minds off of everything for a little while.”
She perks up. “I’d love to! How about a picnic, or family game night, or—”
Aizawa raises a weary hand. She immediately shuts up. “Talk to Iida about it and then run it by me. I’m too tired to deal with this.”
Her cheeks heat up in shame. “Right, sorry sensei. We’ll run it by you by the end of the week.”
“See that you do,” he turns to leave but just as he’s nearing the end of the hallway, he turns and looks at her with a speculative gleam in his eyes.
She smiles her perfect smile and closes the door.
Once her teacher’s steps fade away, the girl who was once Shimura Hana (Hana-chan, her brother always called her that) slumps and slides down the door until she’s on her knees with her forehead resting on the cool wood.
A class event to get their mind off things. How convenient.
There’s no way she can get her mind off of
Tenko Shigaraki her brother ever again, but her classmates deserve to relax and forget about the League, even for only a little while. They’ve been through a lot these last couple of months.
She takes a deep breath, then lets it go.
For their sake and for the remnants of the children that used to be Shimura Hana and Shimura Tenko, she’ll help her classmates be the children they still are so help her god.
And if she ever runs into Shigaraki Tomura… well, in all honesty, she wouldn’t mind all that much if he killed her.
There are consequences to every action, and if death is the consequence of being a bad sister and creating Shigaraki Tomura, then she’ll gladly accept it.
And maybe her brother will eventually forgive her.
(Maybe her classmates will too, if they find out.)
(Not that they will. She’s become very good at hiding Shimura Hana from prying eyes.)