Author's Note: Sorry for the late chapter guys! Had a lot going on. This one is shorter, back to around the length of the first 3 chapters. It's a wind down chapter, finishing up before we head into the training camp arc. I'm excited to get there! There is so much character and relationship development in those chapters. I've been excited to write them since I started. However, me and this story are now on hiatus to work on my Nano project. The next update will most likely be December 4th.

If you wanna have some Nano fun and talk projects, come see me over at my twitter, JRedchan where I'll be talking about my project, Impossible Choices (a KiriBaku The 100 AU) all month!

"PHEROMONES?!"

The little blonde girl with bandages laced up her arms was red in the face as she shouted into the infirmary. Her hands were held carefully to her side, fingers playing with the soft fabric of the sheets.

Lyric, with her placating smile, kept a generous distance between her and the child.

"Attraction pheromones to be exact. It plays on your physical attraction to the people in your vicinity. Hypes it up to levels you can't ignore and bam all you can think about is, well, use your imagination kid," Lyric said.

The girl's face turned thoughtful. "Is that why I wasn't affected? Because I don't have any physical attraction?"

Lyric shook her head. "Not necessarily. You just didn't happen to have any attraction to the people in the exam. It works just as well if you have emotional attraction. The point, mainly, is to incapacitate my opponent, however, my Quirk can have a mind of its own and things could escalate very quickly."

Flashes of the past, of a life left behind, darted through her mind, but she kept her focus wholly on her student. Her hands were now fisted in her lap, lip pulled wearily between her teeth. The teacher's gaze softened as she pushed her mask up into her hair.

"You passed, Nanatsuki. Just because you had to run doesn't make it any less of a victory."

The girl's eyes scrunched with an audible sniffle.

"I know," was all she said, voice barely present.

Lyric may have been new to the teaching business, but she was no stranger to disappointment. Disappointment in yourself, in your Quirk, in your own body. She knew what it was like to fight against the very thing that was supposed to make you strong.

The door sliding open snapped her out of her reverie. The rest of the exams must have concluded, because Sekijiro Kan stood poised in the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest.

"I thought I told you to pace yourself, Nanatsuki," he said, and said girl's head snapped up.

"We won!" she said through rigid posture and grit teeth.

"I don't need an Izuki Midoriya in my class, young lady! I didn't teach you to be self-sacrificing. I taught you to be smart and critical. If I had the option, I'd fail you for that fact alone."

His voice was hard, and Lyric could see how the girl closed off at his words. Her chin dropped to tuck against her chest, hands clasped harder together than they really should. She didn't fight his words.

"I won't," he said after a moment with finality. "If only because you have a crowd waiting for you."

She didn't bother to look up, but Lyric could see the tension drain from her shoulders, could see her hands relax if only slightly.

"If you're feeling up to seeing them." There was a smile on Kan's lips, one Lyric only saw when he was sure his students weren't paying attention. He wasn't an incredibly expressive man, but there were small things she'd picked up on while working with him.

It was easy to miss the bob of her head, a silent confirmation, and Lyric took that as her cue to leave. She'd hoped to have been able to teach the girl a little more during their test, but she was satisfied with the teamwork she witnessed.

The rest of her lessons could wait until they sat in her classroom again.

Eijirou was tired, sweaty, and disappointed. His match had been a literal shit show, with neither him nor Sato making it near close enough to Cementoss to come close to winning.

His shower was cold, pinpricks against his now soft skin as quirk exertion set in. He couldn't harden in that moment even if he needed to, the thought of trying dragging a groan from his throat. The water felt heavenly against his aching, overused muscles, and he wanted nothing more than to let it rain over him until the tension wore off.

However, he desperately didn't want to have to fix his hair, and since he didn't keep a bottle of hair gel on him at school, he had to stay leaned forward enough to keep from rinsing out what was holding his hair up.

His brain was riddled with critiques, reprimands of how he barreled through his exam without a second thought, without a plan. How could he not have thought forward enough to know that Cementoss wasn't as easily worn out as they were? They were students, of course they'd tire out faster.

He was strong, but you can't win a fight on strength alone. You need a plan, a strategy. He thought he could just push his way to victory, and he had failed.

Twenty minutes later, Eijirou and the rest of his class were dressed and gathering their school bags to head home. It was an oddly quiet afternoon with both Bakugo and Midoriya still resting in the nurse's office after their exam. It lifted his spirits to know that they passed- and who was he kidding, Bakugo wouldn't accept anything less- but there was a twinge of resentment as he knew they were going to be away at the summer camp and he wasn't.

At least he'd have Kaminari and Ashido, and maybe even Sero depending on how his scoring went.

He was gonna miss his best bud though.

A thought hit him just as he was about to step out of the classroom.

"Mr. Aizawa?" he asked, nearly knocking Kaminari off balance as he rammed into the redhead's back. "How'd class B do?"

His teacher barely sent an uninterested stare his way before dropping it back down to the papers on his desk.

"Vlads still next door if you want to ask him."

Eijirou quirked a smile. That was code for he hadn't bothered to ask the other teacher how the class did. Figured.

He flashed his teacher a grin and bolted out the door, rushing down the hall to the second first year classroom. The door wasn't even properly shut, and there was still the bustle of students inside as he squeezed in through the crack, not even bothering to open it the rest of the way.

Half of the students inside quieted, warily watching the newcomer with curious gazes. His eyes swept over them briefly, and when he didn't find the person he was looking for, he turned to the desk where class B's teacher stood.

Vlad was a big man, and even for Eijirou he came across a little intimidating with his buff stature and overhanging teeth. The teacher only cocked his head to the side and motioned for him to step forward.

His steps were slightly bounced as he flashed a wide, toothy grin.

"Hey, Mr. Vlad. I was wondering where Keika- ah, Nanatsuki was? I don't see her. I wanted to ask how she did on her exam."

The grey haired teacher huffed, seeming to take inventory of his students as he raked his gaze across them.

"In the infirmary still. She had a rough go, but did a decent job," he said before settling his eyes back on Eijirou. "I'm going that way if you wanted to follow."

He nodded furiously and turned to dart out of the room, running into a familiar pair of pink arms.

"Mina!" he said with a laugh, scooting around his friend and into the hallway. Both her and Kaminari stood there, bags slung over their shoulders with worried expressions.

"We heard what he said about Kei-Cup, and we can't just leave her there alone!" Mina said, pulling her fists to her chest and jutting out her bottom lip.

Vlad stepped out from behind the door then, and the three of them separated to give him room. He motioned for them to follow as he started down the hall. They chatted briefly about their exams, about how bummed they were to be missing the training camp. Kaminari had been looking forward to hanging out with everyone as a group, and Ashido had desperately wanted the relaxation.

They were ushered to wait by the door while Vlad went inside, presumably to see if Keika was accepting company, and Eijirou tried not to pay attention to the wistfulness with which his friends spoke. He wanted to at least try looking on the bright side, though at that moment he couldn't come up with one.

Another teacher strode out a moment later, and Eijirou blinked as she passed. Miss Lyric was the Quirk Analysis teacher. She often spent one on one time with the students helping them find all the intricacies of their own Quirks. On other days, she'd pick one student and have the entire class scrutinise the Quirk. It was both fascinating and humiliating at times.

She must have been the one who administered Keika's test.

Vlad stepped outside the door once she disappeared around the corner and motioned for the three to go inside. They were instructed to keep it down, and once he stepped inside he could see why.

There was a white curtain drawn over one half of the room, hiding what was probably his classmates, still worn out from their match. Near the entrance, sitting on a single cot was Keika.

She wasn't in her hero costume, and he was admittedly a little sad he wouldn't get to see it, but was instead in just her button up shirt and skirt. It was a little odd to see her without the blazer, but it was more odd to see what her arms were covered with instead.

Bandages ran from her fingertips up to her elbows, there was a patch of gauze taped to her cheek, and a wrap around her forehead.

She looked up at them when they settled into the room, the door clicking shut giving them away.

"Kei-Cup!" Ashido was the first to bombard the smaller girl and not too carefully either. She latched onto Keika like a lifeline, arms around her neck and face pressed against the other girl's.

It was the silent plea as Keika grit her teeth and slunk away from the contact that gave away just how much pain she was in. Ashido pulled away to the barest point of contact, letting her knee knock reassuringly against the blonde's.

Eijirou couldn't help but notice that her right sleeve had been rolled up to the neck of her uniform with a bandage across her shoulder and peeking out from beneath the collar.

Worry flickered in his mind. Had she gotten hurt again? It'd been weeks, her shoulder definitely should have healed by now. It reminded him of all the points of contact she'd been avoiding, how she'd used that arm the least, and how uncomfortable she'd seemed.

"What happened?" he asked, but didn't step forward when she flinched at the sound of his voice.

"I just overdid it, that's all," she said, voice lacking its usual conviction.

Ashido, Kaminari, and himself passed a look between them, questioning who was going to call her out on her bluff. Turns out it would be none of them as Recovery Girl stepped around the curtain and swat at Ashido to give Keika more space.

"You more than overdid it, young lady. That dislocated shoulder is going to need a good amount of TLC if you don't want permanent damage. I'm going to give you some orders, and I need you to follow them to a T," Recover Girl said as she rounded the cot to type something out at her desk.

Keika grimaced but nodded in understanding. Her phone dinged just as Recovery Girl finished up, and she pushed to her feet.

"I'll be careful, ma'am. I need to be getting home."

Before she could take another step forward, Eijirou couldn't stop himself from enveloping her in a hug. He did his best to avoid her injured shoulder and not take offense when she didn't immediately reciprocate.

"Don't push yourself too hard," he said, leaning his chin against the top of her head.

She nodded into his chest, letting her forehead rest on his shoulder as she hesitantly wrapped her arms around him in return. He'd expected a teasing remark from Kaminari, but none came, and he let the moment fill him.

His friends were reckless, endangering themselves at every turn, but he couldn't say he was any better. Still, it didn't ease the worry in his gut or the ache in his chest to see them covered in bruises and bandages. Bakugo had been incapacitated by the end of his match, and by the looks of it Keika had pushed too hard as well, if her being wrapped up like a mummy was anything to go by.

Eijirou was the one to start pulling away first, punctuating the release with a tap on her non-injured shoulder. He glanced over at his two other friends and motioned towards the curtain.

"Let's check on Bakugo then get out of here, yeah?" he asked, grabbing Keika's hand and giving it a brief, careful squeeze. "Can I take you home?"

Keika bit the inside of her cheek, flexing her fingers in his grip. "You're going to anyway, aren't you?" she asked under her breath and was met with an enthusiastic "mhm".

The four of them, with a sharp eye from Recovery Girl, snuck a peek into the part of the room where Bakugo and Midoriya were resting. Both of them were still soundly out on their cots, and good thing too because Bakugo would have blasted them for gawking at him as they were. It wasn't every day that you got to see the angry blond looking peaceful with an incredibly soft look on his face.

He was tempted to take a picture, but somehow that would get around (probably from Kaminari sending it to himself), and then he'd be dead meat the moment Bakugo found out. One hundred percent not worth it.

Heading out of the building had Ashido and Kaminari sandwiching the smaller girl between them until they made it out of the school gates. They made it to the train station, still with the other two taking up all of their new friend's attention. Once they were seated, well once Kaminari and Keika were seated (Eijirou and Ashido were left to stand in front of them), Ashido nudged up into Eijirou's space.

"So," she said, low enough not to interrupt the two blonde's conversing behind them. "How're you handling the whole 'no training camp' thing?"

A sense of dread drug its way up out of the pit of his stomach. "It's fine, Mina," he said, forcing out a smile. "I'm bummed sure, but I've got you and Kami. We'll make the most of it!"

Her eyes were soft looking at him. "You've been working hard, you know that right, Eijirou? It was just a little hiccup. You're improving so much."

His smile faltered a little as he fought back the tears forming in his eyes. It was... nice to hear words like that, affirming that he'd been trying hard and that it was paying off. No one knew what he was like this time last year; no one knew the pathetic mess he had been, that he was fighting not to be. No one except Ashido.

"I know," he said, even though the words didn't feel true.

A hand wrapped around his own, and he looked at Ashido to give confirmation that he was, indeed, okay, but it wasn't Ashido who had grabbed him. He frowned and looked down, seeing a small hand clasped tightly in his own, and he twisted around to see Keika focused on him and pulling to her feet.

His face began to feel hot. Had she overheard them?

She didn't try to say anything, even as he floundered to come up with anything reassuring. She just stood behind him, bandaged hand holding his, and leaned her forehead against his back. It was quiet and warm and admittedly comforting. So he gave her hand an experimental squeeze and cast a bashful smile to Ashido, who was giving him a knowing look.

He'd made a lot of good friends since coming to UA. He only wished he felt deserving of them.

A couple of hours later, Keika sat alone in her room, unmoving aside from the beating of her heart and the breaths of her lungs. She was tired, more tired than she'd been after weeks of training. Her fingers ached and tingled, and she'd already had to change the bandages that were weak from sweat. The material was uncomfortable among the thin, string-like cuts, but the open air and inevitable contact with the outside world would be downright painful, so she left them on.

It felt as if every ounce of energy had been drained from her. She'd barely been able to keep up with Kaminari and Ashido on the way home, and it was near impossible to strike up a conversation with Kirishima even as he left her at her front door. It wasn't even just her exhaustion, but his as well, that had ended their silent walk with a promise to see each other at school tomorrow. Then, he was walking away, and even though she wanted to reach out and say something, her mind was coming up blank and all she could think of was going inside and sleeping until next term.

They still had school the next day though; it wasn't quite time for their little break before the training camp started. It was discouraging to know most of her friends wouldn't be at the camp, and she'd likely find most of her time taken up by her trainwreck of a class.

It was odd thinking of her little group as friends; it'd been longer than she cared to admit since she spent time with anyone outside of practice, be it training or dance. Having friends was hard during competition and even harder when you push everyone away of your own accord. These guys, though, they kept coming back. She could blow up, and they'd just laugh. They didn't give up.

It was bizarre.

/"Incoming Call from Firework - Boom Boom"/

She blinked when the robotic sound of her phone talking filled the silence of the room. It repeated itself before she managed to pick it up, tap on the screen twice, and then lift it up to her ear.

"Hey, Boom Boom," she said, and even she could hear the dull, empty sound her voice made.

"I talked to shitty hair," he said, and his voice sounded strange over the phone. "Heard you passed."

"Mhm." Her voice was much too quiet. "Got some pretty cool scars to prove it."

He scoffed into the line. "Told me that too. 'M bettin' you and Deku could match."

"Deku?" She pushed the phone between her neck and shoulder to hold her hands out and flex her fingers. "Midoriya, right? Sounds like you two had a blast."

She expected a witty comeback; that's how the two of them were. All she was met with was silence, and she picked the phone back up in her hand.

"Bakugo?"

"You shoulda fuckin' told me you were hurt, dumbass."

She frowned. " 'Course I'm hurt. You're worse than me, so I don't see-"

"Not that, brat! Your shoulder. Fuckin' dislocated it that day at the creek, didn't you?"

Keika almost dropped the phone, barely gripping it in her fingers just before it fell. There was a lump climbing up her throat, a dryness making her thoughts jumble.

"I-no- Miss Lyric really did a number-"

"I don't wanna hear that bullshit!" he shouted. "You've been favoring your left side ever since, and you can't fuckin' stand for any of us to touch you. 'Wanted to call you on your shit ages ago, but hair-for-brains wouldn't let me. I'm doing it now cuz it was fuckin' dumb."

Guilt riddled her gut, but she pushed through it. "I didn't know it was dislocated," she said slowly. "I just thought a muscle was bruised."

There was a low growl that made her gape. "You still shoulda had it checked out, dumbass!" His voice was deafening against her ears. "Stupid brat. I can't fuckin' train with you if I can't trust you to know your own limits!"

The words sent a wave of hurt rolling over her. She'd always pushed herself, especially in training. He knew that. He knew that the only way to get better was to fight for it, to go beyond what you're capable of.

Anger started to bubble under her skin. She couldn't go to Recovery Girl for every injury. During school she could manage, but she couldn't show off her scars from home. There had been fresh bruises, and at least one new burn mark, and the gash across her arm.

Those wounds were surely healing now that her body was recovering faster, but how could she explain them when there hadn't been a fight? When there hadn't been training?

Bakugo had no way to know. He didn't see the scars, didn't know the look her father gave behind closed doors. He didn't know the history, her history, her family's history. He had no right to butt into somewhere he didn't belong.

She was strong. She knew her body better than anyone else. She knew where she could push and how much her body could take. She was in pain, but she wasn't at her limit.

"I know my limits," she said, voice calm despite the overwhelming feelings brewing in her mind. "I haven't reached them yet."

The sound Bakugo made was exasperated, his own aggravation shining through. "I heard what she said before the idiot brigade got there. The muscle around the dislocation tore from repeatedly straining around it. That's not gonna get better overnight, brat."

It hadn't been her favorite bit of news she'd ever received, and it was one of the more substantial injuries she'd obtained over the last few years. It had been a common occurrence for a while during dance that she would strain or sprain a muscle, but she always powered through.

As long as she was succeeding, as long as she was taking her training into her own hands, she could avoid the path her father carved for her. Losing wasn't an option.

"I can't afford to take it easy," she said, hurriedness following the words. "I need you to keep training with me, Bakugo."

"I never said I'd stop training you, but if you can't tell me when it's too much, then I'll make that decision for you. We've got time before the camp, you'd better be ready to do things my way, brat."

Keika took in a deep breath, nodding her head along with her words. "Yes Sir, Mr. Lord Explosion."

There was a crackling sound on the other line. "I'm kicking your ass, short stack!"

This time, she laughed. "I'm counting on it, Firework."