The guest room ceiling was mocking me. Plain, white, utterly devoid of inspiration. It had been… days? A week? Time felt warped, stretched thin, and blurry around the edges. Ever since it happened, the incident that ripped a hole in my carefully constructed reality, I'd been adrift. Peter and Amy, bless their hearts, had opened their home to me here in America. They were understanding, offering quiet support without pushing. But the guilt was a constant companion.
Momo… God, I hadn't spoken to her in weeks. The thought of facing her bubbly optimism, her unwavering faith in me, was unbearable. She was studying for midterms, focused on her goals. I couldn't burden her with this… this broken version of myself.
A low groan escaped my lips. I was becoming everything I hated – distant, detached, a burden. My phone buzzed with messages from friends – Diamond, Katsume, even Izuku. I ignored them all. Each unanswered message was a tiny stab of guilt, a reminder of the connections I was letting fray.
The scent of takeout jolted me from my self-pity. Peter poked his head in. "Food's here, Anos. Get your butt out here. You haven't eaten a proper meal in days."
I managed a weak smile and dragged myself to the table. Peter and Amy chatted about their day, about Spider-Man sightings, about the everyday normalcy that felt impossibly far away. I picked at some fruit, the only thing I could stomach. They didn't push, didn't pry, just let me exist in their quiet orbit.
Back in the guest room, I succumbed to the exhaustion that clung to me like a shroud. Sleep offered no respite. My dreams twisted into nightmares, a relentless replay of the incident, of faces blurring into a sea of fear, of my powers failing me. I was falling, always falling, unable to catch anyone.
Then, the nightmare fractured. I was somewhere else, bathed in neon light, a futuristic cityscape stretching before me. And I was… content. Next to me stood two children, a boy and a girl, twins with familiar features. My children. But who was their mother? My mind screamed Momo, it had to be Momo, but the image that flashed in my mind felt wrong. Then, there was her, Diamond, laughing, her eyes sparkling with a joy that mirrored my own.
Diamond? My best friend? No. It was wrong. I was supposed to be with Momo. Diamond and I were just friends, close friends, but just friends. Yet, in that fleeting dream-image, I had never felt so happy.
The world dissolved, and I woke with a jolt, sobs wracking my body. Why was this happening? Why was I being shown a life that wasn't mine, a happiness that felt like a betrayal? I hated it. I hated myself.
The shrill ring of my phone cut through my despair. Akira. I had completely forgotten about her, the girl I had saved. She was still in the hospital, recovering. Shame washed over me.
I wiped my tears, forced a semblance of composure, and answered. "Hey Akira, how are you doing?"
"Anos! I'm good! How are you?" Her voice was bright, cheerful, a stark contrast to the turmoil inside me.
I forced a smile. "I'm okay, kid. Recovering nicely?"
"Yep! I get released in two days!" she exclaimed, then sighed. "But… they want to put me up for adoption. I don't want to go, though."
My heart clenched. "Hmm… what if you came with me?" The words were out before I could fully process them.
Silence. Then, a shout. "REALLY?!?"
I chuckled. "Yeah, why not? You need someone, and…" I trailed off, unable to articulate the need inside me to hold onto something good, something I could protect.
"Yes! Of course!" Her excitement was infectious, momentarily pushing back the darkness.
We said our goodbyes, and a strange sense of purpose settled over me. I started packing. I told Peter the news, and he, as always, was supportive. The next day, I was on a flight back to Japan.