Archive of Our Own ^beta

Someone sat next to Kaina on the bench and she didn’t have to look to know who it was. She just tightened her arms around her knees and kept on staring straight ahead at the grimy tunnel wall. The train had just left. Kaina had watched it come, watched all the people on the crowded platform funnel into it, and then watched it go. Now she waited for the next one in the empty station.

To her credit, Rumi didn’t say anything for a long time. This, Kaina knew, must have taken incredible effort. Rumi had trouble staying quiet on a good day, something about that hyperactive bunny fluff entwined in her DNA.

“How’d you find me?” Kaina asked when Rumi’s leg started bouncing, heel striking the ground in a fast, even rhythm. Another symptom of the hyperactive bunny fluff.

“Lucky guess.”

That sounded like a lie, but Kaina couldn’t think of an alternative. She’d left her phone at home so she couldn’t be tracked. Rumi was sharp—had to be, in her profession—so it wasn’t so far-fetched that she’d deduced where Kaina had run off to hide.

“I thought you’d want to be on the verge of something,” Rumi explained. “An in-between. Train station was the closest to the apartment.”

Kaina made a quiet humming noise and rested her chin on her knees. She was sitting curled up in a ball, back pressing into the concrete wall and heels clinging to the curved metal edge of the bench.

Rumi wasn’t far off. Kaina had always liked train stations. They had that feeling of suspension, of possibilities. Any train could take her anywhere at any moment. On the verge of something, indeed.

A person walked into the station, paused, and made a despairing face at the estimated time of arrival of the next train. Ten minutes. They were the first one here, and they had the longest to wait.

“You going to tell me what’s up?” Rumi asked, because Rumi was a saint and apparently didn’t come here to wring an apology out of Kaina, who definitely needed to give one. There’d been a bit of a fight. It had been Kaina’s fault.  

Kaina blew a piece of pink hair out of her eyes.

The two of them had started dating not long after the end of the war. There had been the whole business of Kaina’s pardon, which she didn’t ask for and didn’t want but got anyway, and then there was this thing where an assassin—one of Kaina’s replacements, ironically—was trying to kill Kaina to keep her from spilling HPSC secrets and Rumi took it upon herself to keep Kaina alive (which, again, Kaina didn’t ask for but got nonetheless), and the whole thing spiraled from there.

Rumi was difficult to keep away from, and there was no denying the level of care and love she had for Kaina. Undeserved care and love, Kaina thought, but no one had asked her. Then, she’d fallen in love with Rumi in turn, and so the entire situation was just fated into existence.

Kaina couldn’t believe it sometimes. It didn’t feel real. How’d she (assassin, weapon, no childhood, no prospects, enough PTSD to incapacitate a small army) end up with a girlfriend as incredible as Rumi? Answer: Rumi had asked, and Rumi was difficult to say no to.

“Just feeling flighty,” Kaina said finally, instead of getting straight to the inevitable apology. “Probably shouldn’t be around people right now.”

“If that was an invitation for me to leave, I’m not taking it,” Rumi said.

Kaina exhaled sharply through her nose. “No, you wouldn’t, would you.”

“I’m very stubborn. Defining characteristic.” 

Someone had sprayed wild, scrawling graffiti on the wall across from them in bright red. Kaina tried to make out the characters, as she did every time she sat here. They were sloppy, hard to decipher. One of these days someone would come and paint over it, and then the mystery would be lost.

“I shouldn’t have pushed you like that.” Rumi shifted on the bench next to Kaina, crossing her metal leg over the other one. “It’s not my choice to make.”

Before she was done speaking, Kaina was already shaking her head, finally twisting to meet Rumi’s eyes. It wasn’t Rumi’s place to apologize here—Kaina had been the one to mess up. “No, don’t. I’m sorry. I got all insecure and angsty and blew it all up when I shouldn’t have. It wasn’t your fault.”

“True, but I could have handled it better.” 

Rumi was an unfairly good girlfriend. Whoever had taught Rumi to think clearly when in an emotional crisis and turn herself into a calming force instead had done a stellar job. Even sitting next to her now, Kaina’s shoulders were starting to uncoil.

Kaina’s best efforts paled in comparison.

The number of people entering the station increased to a steady trickle. They milled around, shifted from foot to foot, frowned at the board with the times. A quiet buzz of background conversations started up.

“I shouldn’t have freaked out,” Kaina insisted. “It’s just a job offer. It’s not a big deal.”

“‘Kay, well maybe we both suck, then.”

Kaina bit back a smile and hid her face behind her knees again. “I guess I can accept that.”

Nedzu had offered her a job at UA. And Kaina, clearly, was the last person who should ever be around a group of kids unsupervised. She wasn’t a hero anymore. She’d walked that walk and then she’d shattered the cement under her feet and used the shards as a weapon.

Train the next generation of heroes, he’d said, because he was a conniving, evil rodent. Make a difference.

“I can’t take the job,” Kaina said, even though she probably shouldn’t have brought this up again given that they’d fought over it less than an hour ago.

But this time Rumi’s answer was different. “Why?”

It was hard to explain. Kaina had failed badly the first go around of it. Rumi just didn’t get it, and the words were difficult to put in order.

At times like these, Kaina felt jealous of Rumi. Jealous that Rumi had actually had a childhood, that she’d had parents who loved her and cared for her and didn’t sell her to the HPSC the first chance they got. Jealous that she’d played hooky from school and had a crappy high school job. Jealous that she hadn’t been honed into a weapon from the day her quirk manifested.

There were some pains that only Kaina and Hawks understood. There were some damages that a person couldn’t come back from.

Of course, these were all thoughts that Kaina couldn’t and wouldn’t say out loud to Rumi ever. These were thoughts that crouched in the dark trenches of her mind, waiting for enemy fire to draw them out.

She knew she wasn’t being fair. Rumi had gone through her fair share of pain. It couldn’t have been easy, surviving middle school as a rabbit. Kids were mean, and even then, Rumi had wanted to be a hero. Kaina couldn’t pretend Rumi’s life had been a breeze.

But there was being bullied as a kid, and there was never being a kid at all, and the second one made it a hell of a lot harder to “train the next generation of heroes.”

Kaina didn’t say any of that. She bottled it all up and said, “I just don’t think I’m cut out for this.”

She didn’t really know what the this was—teaching high schoolers, being with Rumi, living a regular life. Maybe it was just everything. She’d had a purpose once. Kaina had been a very good soldier, up until she wasn’t. And now what?

“I think you should give yourself more credit,” Rumi said. “But say more.”

“It’s just…” Kaina tugged at a loose thread hanging from the sleeve of her jacket. She didn’t even know where to start.

The station was starting to crowd up again, people standing in loose bunches along the rail line. Their chattering rose and fell in waves, like the ocean. Three minutes.

Kaina let out the first thing that came to mind. “What if I end up taking all this”—she gestured at her head—“messed up stuff, and I pass it on to those kids?”

“Do you think you will?”

Rumi’s red eyes stayed steady, open to whatever answer Kaina had to give, so Kaina answered honestly. “I don’t know.”

Thoughtful, Rumi nodded. “Well, you’ve got a lot of people in your corner. Nedzu clearly trusts you. Eraserhead trusts you. Deku sure as hell trusts you.”

“That’s not a reliable review,” said Kaina, lips curling up. “That kid’s insane.”

Rumi didn’t even try to argue that. “Yeah, but he’s got a good nose for trouble. You’ve passed the test. So maybe you should accept that the people who graded you know what they’re doing.”

Kaina ducked her head. It was dark behind her knees, so she closed her eyes, fighting her demons. This conversation didn’t seem like it was about the job offer anymore.

“Look, if they’ve messed up choosing you, that’s on them.”

“But I’m a killer,” Kaina whispered, quietly enough she was almost certain Rumi wouldn’t hear it amidst all the chatter.

She should have known better than to underestimate Rumi’s ears. “You were a killer. Now, you’ve got all these paths and options ahead of you. You’re punishing yourself because you don’t think you deserve them, but that’s not fair to anyone.”

It was very annoying when Rumi was right.

One minute. The station was crowded enough now that people were brushing shoulders. That anticipatory energy came over the platform. Soon, very soon, everyone would get to go where they were going.

“You don’t have to choose now,” Rumi said.

“Nedzu’s email was very insistent,” Kaina mumbled.

“That’s ’cause he enjoys making people squirm. Don’t give him the pleasure.” Rumi uncrossed her legs and stood up. “Train’s coming.”

Kaina blinked. “So?”

“So, let’s go.”

A baffled laugh escaped Kaina’s lips before she could stop it. “Go where?”

“I dunno.” Rumi pulled her hair into a ponytail in a few efficient movements. “Wherever this train goes. We’ll take it to the last stop. Find an inn or something. We’ll take a few days, talk over the offer, decide without Nedzu breathing down your neck.”

Kaina loved Rumi. She was also crazy. “Don’t you have to work?” Despite the protests, she was unfurling her legs. Pins and needles stabbed into her feet as she stood.

Rumi waved a hand dismissively. “The kid’ll handle it. He’s pushing me out of a job anyway.”

Kaina thought it was brave of Rumi to trust her young, wartorn sidekick with anything for a prolonged period of time, but Rumi had that look in her eye that said she’d made up her mind. They were going to take this train all the way to the end, wherever it led. Kaina knew when she’d lost.

A rumble started far down the tunnel and the air in the station shifted in anticipation. Another thing Kaina loved about the train station was the constant movement. The waiting and then the release. Very cathartic stuff.

“You know, part of the fun of it is not actually getting on,” Kaina said over the whoosh of the train breaching the space. “It’s having the opportunity to go and the choice not to take it.”

Rumi gave her a scrutinizing look. “Should we stay, then?”

The train huffed to a halt and the doors opened with a ding. A great outpouring commenced, a weaving dance of travelers, and then, all at once, the people on the platform pressed forward. Everyone started slotting in.

“No,” Kaina said. “No, let’s take it to the end.”

“Excellent.” Rumi marched into the crowd. “I’ve never been to Kanazawa.”

This was ridiculous. Kaina didn’t think she’d ever done something so self-indulgent and frivolous in her entire life, but she followed Rumi onto the train, awe resting on her lips.

Rumi folded herself into a corner and pulled Kaina in so they’d take up as little space as possible. The trains here got crowded fast, shoulder to shoulder. Kaina was jostled forward until she was all the way in Rumi’s bubble, pressed up against her torso. Rumi tucked her head in and kissed Kaina on that one spot at the back of her jaw that made her go crazy. Kaina swatted her on the shoulder.

“We are on a train,” she hissed.

“It’s very romantic,” Rumi murmured into her ear, and kissed that spot again.

Kaina poked her in the ribs.

Rumi snickered, breath falling on the shell of Kaina’s ear, and a shiver went down Kaina’s neck. She poked Rumi again for good measure.

Another ding sounded and the doors closed again.

“We don’t have toothbrushes,” Kaina realized. “Or pajamas.”

“I think we’ll live,” Rumi said drily. “I was top five for a while there. That makes a person rich enough to buy emergency pajamas on random outings to the east coast. Also, life is meant to be full of adventures like this.”

Kaina had never been on a random adventure like this until she met Rumi, who couldn’t stay in one spot for long. There had been a few outings since that meeting, but nothing as spontaneous and extreme as this. This was one of the first things that had made Kaina fall in love with Rumi. And this, now, felt like falling in love with her all over again.

Rumi’s light brown fingers curled around Kaina’s pale wrist. “We’ll figure this UA stuff out.”

The train lurched into motion, and the now-empty station flew by the windows like an old film reel.

“Yeah,” Kaina said, and twisted her hand up to catch Rumi’s fingers instead, tangling them together with hers. “We will.”