That night, after dinner, Mihara didn't linger in the nursery to tell her goodnight stories or share her usual silly jokes or stories. Instead, her mother looked deeply into her eyes with a kind of wish that Eiko couldn't understand. Mihara kissed her temple—firm yet warm, a gesture meant to remind them of their bond. For some reason it felt like a goodbye.
Eiko didn't question any of it. She didn't judge her mother's behavior as the nursery lights dimmed, revealing the faint glow of the stickers on her ceiling.
From her bed, she could hear her mother in the other room. Mihara's voice was soft, blending with the faint digital scratch of Amano's through the laptop speaker. Eiko strained her ears but couldn't make out the words. Even so, something in the tone brought about a change she didn't know how to confront. She didn't understand the full context, nor her mother's actions; all she knew was the image of her mother's horrified expression in the kitchen, glass crunching beneath her feet.
Something was wrong. Eiko trusted that her mother would explain it someday, but she wanted to help now. If she could, she would prevent any kind of struggle or pain from reaching her loved ones and allow them to live happy lives.
She theorized that it had something to do with her father—an absent, looming presence spoken of only in hushed whispers among her caretakers. Every time he was vaguely mentioned, Mihara would be looking over her shoulder like she was expecting the shadows to lunge at her.
Eiko had no clue who he could be among the sea of people, but there weren't many who could put her mother in such a state. The moment she learned the truth and the full context of what exactly happened, she would do everything in her power to protect and bring them justice.
For now, her mind could no longer fend off the exhaustion creeping in. The combination of constant overthinking of everything, persistent frustration from her training's lack of results, and this new concern for her mother's mental health drained her completely. She was lulled into a vague, dark dream.
When her mother woke her the next day, Eiko was startled to find her dressed in a business suit. Breakfast was already ready, and the clock showed that it was only seven in the morning.
She seated herself in her high chair without Mihara's assistance, carefully watching her mother dart around the room, gathering miscellaneous items to stuff into her purse. She realized that there was only a single set served on the table, the other chairs tucked in.
"Mom…? Are you coming to eat?"
Mihara paused. The laser focus faded from her eyes as she turned toward her daughter. She met Eiko's gaze and approached, her heels clinking unnaturally against the wooden floor.
Running her fingers through Eiko's sleep-tousled hair, Mihara fixed her clothes. "No, I'm sorry. Mommy had already eaten a few hours earlier." She bit her lip. "Eiko... things are going to change for the next couple of weeks. Mommy has some business to take care of. I know you want to know and find a way to help, but I can't let you be anywhere near what's happening right now. It would make me so much happier to know that you're safe and sound at home."
Eiko felt a cold dread settle in her chest. She had never seen that look in her mother's eyes before. The warm, kind Mihara she knew now seemed calculated and detached.
When Mihara reached for her hand, Eiko felt the chill of her skin. This wasn't the mother she recognized.
"Eiko," Mihara said softly, bringing her daughter's hand to her chest so she could feel the pounding of her heart. "You'll be staying with Mrs. Midoriya upstairs while I'm gone. I'll drop you off before I leave, okay?"
Eiko nodded faintly, the information slipping through her mind as though in a haze.
Mihara kissed her temple again, her fingers trembling faintly. "Alright, finish your breakfast. I'll go pack your things."
Her mother became a whirlwind around their home, moving quickly from room to room. Eiko tried to focus on her food, but it tasted bland. Her gaze kept drifting to watch her mother's actions instead.
***
The door opened to reveal a woman shorter than her mother. Her dark green hair was tied into a neat bun, and glasses framed her gentle and round face. She smiled warmly at the sight of Mihara and Eiko, her blue maternity dress swaying as she stepped aside to invite them in.
"Otani! Please, come in." Her hand rested on her lower back as she waddled deeper into the apartment. She helped Eiko onto the couch before asking, "Have you eaten yet?"
Mihara smiled. "Yes. Midoriya—"
"Please, call me Inko. We've known each other long enough."
"I see. Then you may call me Mihara." Mihara's tone softened. "Inko, thank you so much for agreeing to watch over Eiko. Something unexpected came up and—"
Inko interrupted her gently, placing a hand on her elbow. "You don't have to explain. I'll do my best to look after her while you're gone."
Mihara opened her mouth to say more, but a sharp beep from a wristwatch Eiko had never seen made her glance at the time. Mihara muttered a quiet curse and hugged Inko as tightly as she could manage with her gravid belly, thanking her once again. Then she turned to her daughter on the couch, setting down a duffel bag filled with clothes and toys.
She adjusted Eiko's appearance one last time. Seeing the worry in her daughter's expression, she smiled.
"Mommy will be back. When I am, everything will be back to normal. I promise."
Eiko almost believed her. A childish part of her clung to that sense of normalcy. Her life had finally felt balanced—so unlike her previous ones. She had thought this would be the life where she could simply live and die without changing the world.
It felt dramatic to compare her mother leaving her with a babysitter to the end of the world, but to Eiko, it fit. At the end of the day, her mother was her world. Adjusting to only seeing her aunt through a screen was already difficult enough, not being able to see or talk to her mother was going to be torturous.
Still, Eiko smiled back and nodded with determination. "Please stay safe, Mom."
Mihara kissed her forehead before hurrying out of the apartment, thanking Inko again on her way out.
As soon as the door closed, Eiko deflated. Her frown lingered as she slouched against the couch.
The seat beside her shifted as Inko carefully sat down. "You must have a lot on your mind, Eiko. I can't move around much with my stomach, but I heard you're really good at puzzles. Would you like to play with me?"
Eiko looked up. Without her glasses, Inko's face seemed even softer—almost like a living marshmallow.
She showed no hint of concern or hesitation. Her glow and smile reminded Eiko of her mother's warmth in those early days after she was born.
They'd had a few encounters with Inko in the past. Amano often greeted her whenever they crossed paths outside the apartment. Sometimes they'd walk together, taking the same routes and enjoying the same scenery. Those walks had grown less frequent as Inko's pregnancy progressed and Amano left the country, though they still met occasionally for tea—most recently at Eiko's birthday where Inko gave her a cute frog onesie.
Inko was a woman who mostly kept to herself. Outside those occasions, Eiko didn't really know how to act around her.
Still, seeing her familiar smile stirred Eiko into action. If she couldn't help her mother, she could at least avoid being a burden to a pregnant woman living alone.
Eiko smiled and hopped down from the couch. "I'd love to play! Mom packed me a bunch of puzzles, but they're not really for playing with other people."
She dug through the duffel bag and handed Inko the puzzle boxes. Inko adjusted her glasses and examined each one with amused curiosity.
She laughed softly before placing them on the coffee table. "Jesus, you're a bright kid. How long have you been solving puzzles, Eiko?"
"I don't remember when exactly. For as long as I could crawl, Mom had been reading and playing with me."
"Oh, aren't you just adorable!" Inko squealed. "And you just turned one not long ago! So articulate, too. Tell me—what's your favorite kind of puzzle?"
"I like sudoku the most… but I play all of them."
Inko glanced over the puzzles again, humming as she rubbed her chin thoughtfully. She sifted through the boxes, apparently unsatisfied.
Then she chuckled. "Say, have you ever played board games?"
"Once! Auntie Amano taught me checkers when we went to the park. There were older kids playing, and Aunt Amano played with me on her phone." Eiko deflated a little at the memory. "I wanted to play during playtime hours, but Mom said I'm too young to have a phone."
Inko laughed as she stood up. "Your mother's right. But there are other ways to play checkers without a phone. I have just the thing."
She led Eiko to a cupboard filled with dozens of board games. Eiko was fascinated by the variety—different sizes, colors, and pieces. Each box felt like its own little world.
Inko retrieved a folded board with a checkered pattern—the same as the one Eiko remembered from her aunt's phone. She explained that this one in particular was for a different game called chess. The name alone intrigued Eiko. It sounded professional, sophisticated—a game in a class of its own. Inko did have checker pieces that she apparantly brought separate from the chess ones.
Inko laid out them out on the board, dividing them by color and placing each on its starting squares. The white pieces were closest to Eiko; the black, to Inko.
"To win," Inko said softly, settling herself onto the floor with some effort due to her round belly, "You must render your opponent unable to move or capture all their pieces."
Eiko thought she understood the rules from the explanation, but during the game she made several illegal moves, which Inko patiently corrected. As they played, Eiko found herself tapping into the same analytical instincts she once used as a king. She grew quiet and thoughtful. Though she made many mistakes, she didn't dwell on them—instead, she analyzed and adapted.
She quickly realized that going first offered a strategic advantage in controlling the board. Even if her opening move had been poor, she could learn from it.
By the middle of the game, Eiko was down to three pieces while Inko had seven. Despite her round and gentle demeanor, Inko was sharp and strategic. Eiko spotted a risky opportunity to win, and Inko noticed her expression, smiling knowingly.
The smugness sparked Eiko's competitive spirit—one she thought had long since mellowed. She racked her brain for another strategy, her determination making Inko laugh out loud.
Then she made her move. Her piece lined up perfectly against two of Inko's.
Given a choice, Inko paused, considering carefully before promoting one of her pieces to king. She moved it into position, threatening one of Eiko's remaining pieces.
Eiko sighed and nodded. She knew what a king could do—but she had already accounted for that.
She placed one of her pieces in front of the threatened one, blocking Inko's move. From there, she tightened her play, forcing Inko to think several moves ahead.
Inko tried to maneuver another piece toward the center of the board, aiming to promote it as well. That was the opening Eiko had been waiting for. She captured three pieces in one go—before losing her own in the counterattack.
Her last piece managed to take two more before it, too, was promoted to king. The sudden reversal impressed Inko. The new positions made it difficult for her to choose which piece to protect.
The game continued until Eiko's final piece was finally taken by one of Inko's newly crowned kings.
"Are you sure this was your first time playing against someone else?" Inko asked, astonished.
Eiko, still brooding over her loss, answered grumpily as she began resetting the board. "Yeah. I got it by the end, but I made too many mistakes. I should have…"
As she explained her missteps and what she could have done differently, Inko was struck by how analytical the child was. For a brief, ridiculous moment, she imagined pitching Eiko to a television show as a prodigy. She dismissed the thought with a laugh.
They continued playing checkers until dinner. Inko served a delicious meal of katsudon and red iced tea. Eiko felt a pang of guilt as she admitted—only to herself—that it was the best food she had ever tasted.
***
a/n: inko's pregnant :D mihara is gone :(