You had Me at Meow

by Webster'sWeb

If it hadn't been for his affinity for cats, he might have walked by her a thousand times and never spared her a second glance. But one morning at the train station, something she carried with her caught his attention. Sometimes, it was the tiniest of things that drew two people together. The tiniest of sounds — "Meow." Feel good, slow burn Aizawa/OC. Slice of life vibe w/plot

18. Heart vs Mind

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Heart vs. Mind

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The next morning...

Aizawa woke up with thoughts of her again.

This time he knew they were a dream, for he definitely hadn't seen so much of her skin beyond her neck. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, trying to wipe the visions away as he got onto his feet and headed for the bathroom.

He splashed away thoughts of short-term solutions and dried his face off rougher than necessary. He leaned on the counter and thought about the day before; of her body against his, being able to listen to her talk forever, only stopping to trade more kisses and whisk her down to the street when she was hungry, and parting ways after one more spur of the moment rooftop kiss.

His reflection smiled back at him as he pushed away from the counter, eager to get to the train station.

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She surprised him this morning by beating him to the bench. The sight of her sparked something in his brain that spurred him to walk faster. Her eyes turning and landing on him triggered a smile on his lips. He raised an eyebrow at her as he walked up. "You're here early."

Her crinkled eyes followed him the whole way over. "Well, usually it's you who's early, so I figured I'd mix it up."

He stretched his arm around her shoulder as he sat down, depositing his sleeping bag beside him with no intent to tuck into it. "A nice surprise."

She studied him in silence with a smile for a few moments, settling back a bit.

"That little hole-in-the-wall place yesterday was surprisingly nice, too. I'd have never even known it was there."

"I prefer places that aren't very noisy or crowded. I know more places to eat like that. Not around here, per se, but... around."

"I prefer places like that, too. I want to try your favorites."

"Yeah? Maybe this weekend?"

"Eager to make plans already, I see." She glanced away from him with a thoughtful look. "Hmmm… maybe. Or, maybe, we can get some free food and beer." Her eyes flicked back to him expectantly, her smile assured.

He paused a moment to consider the proposition. "Well, that's hard to beat. Where do you find that?"

"You find it with me, this Saturday evening—bowling."

He looked at her blankly. "Oh… bowling." He was with her until she said that.

"We're having a staff get-together, and you're invited."

"Mm… well, it's not really my thing, but…" Can't turn down free food. And beer. But, more importantly, her. "... It doesn't sound too bad. For how long?"

"It'll start at four, and it will go for a few hours. Some people will have their kids with them so they won't want to stay out too late, but I imagine others may want to stick around longer or even go elsewhere after. It had to be the kind of activity that all age-ranges could do."

"Hm… classes get out at four-ten, so I'll have to arrive fashionably late."

"Gotcha. I'll save a seat for you."

He thought for a bit. "How many people are going to be there?"

"About fifteen adults, I'd bet on, plus people's kids." She gave him a quick look of reassurance. "Not that I expect you to know and remember everyone's names. Just come and have some fun."

With you? "Sure." The rest of them… he'd wait and see.

She looked pleased. "Great."

He watched her expression for a bit. "And, uh… what about afterwards?"

She gave him a sly wink. "Of course, we'll have time for afterwards."

He was satisfied by that response.

They sat on the bench together in peaceful silence for the rest of the wait with his fingers running in slow circles around her shoulder. Once on the train, their position didn't change very much at all, though she took her tablet out of her purse to read. He leaned his head to read over her shoulder, though rather than a novel, he found what looked like medical text.

"What are you reading?" He muttered into her ear.

"Eh-heh…" She scrolled back up to the title. "Diagnostic performance of the canine influenza A virus subtype H3N9 hemagglutination inhibition assay."

He blinked slowly. "... Doctors certainly aren't inclined to brevity."

She laughed. "Certainly not!" Her thumb scrolled back down to where she was at. "I could put it in layman terms, if you're interested. Though, I'd think this isn't very interesting to you."

Slobbery dogs, contagious disease, and medical jargon. "Why not? I'm sure it's absolutely riveting." Just to hear her voice, talking about anything.

Her expression said she didn't quite believe him, but she chuckled at his deadpan enthusiasm. "Well, okay…"

He listened to her intently for the rest of the train ride, his focus never leaving her. Maybe none of it really was interesting to him, but it was to her, and that was so calming to listen to. He mumbled questions just to keep her going as his head dipped onto her shoulder.

"Are you sure this isn't boring you?"

"S'not boring."

"Are you sure? I think you're falling asleep."

"Am not. Just getting comfortable."

"Alright…"

He breathed in slowly and deeply, smelling her, then let it out just as leisurely. Here was the perfect spot to sleep. His eyelids started to droop, and he didn't stop them. When she nudged him, they were reluctant to open.

"Hey. Going to miss your stop."

"Hm?" He opened his eyes and looked around. "Oh." That didn't feel right; it seemed much too soon. He shrugged himself to a more alert state, pulling away from her with reluctance. He stood up but lingered with his eyes on her. Just one more minute; one more moment. His eyes settled on her lips.

"Hey."

"Hm?"

She looked up at him and he bent down. She went still as his lips met hers for a soft and surprising second. He pulled back and smiled at her pink cheeks.

"Have a good day."

He turned away without awaiting a reply, his face satisfied. She watched him go with a smile coming to hers, melting back into her seat and looking over at the empty spot next to her he'd left behind. The smile dropped immediately and her eyes snapped wide.

"Aizawa! Wait! Come back!"

He stopped with his foot on the platform, lips shooting back with humor. "What? You want another?"

"No. I mean—you forgot something kind of important."

He turned his head to look at her with a wry grin and every intent of a witty comeback.

Her raised eyebrows and pointed glance to the seat beside her spoke for her, aimed at the sleeping bag lying there.

His face went blank. "Oh." He was still for a moment, then turned and walked back to the bench shifting his eyes away from her and scratching his head. "...Right." Gathering it over his arm, he shot a sidelong glance at her then away again. "... You didn't see that."

She snickered. "Pro Hero: Sleepy Head reporting for duty."

He turned away, walking quickly. "You didn't see that."

She grinned at his back. "Have a good day. Maybe catch a nap, later."

"Heh… maybe. You too."

He exited the train and the station, every step feeling a bit heavy leaving her behind. He looked down at his sleeping bag, shuffling it a bit. It was such a foolish, uncharacteristic thing to do. Instead of being troubled, he smiled to himself.

Even if he had forgotten it, how could he possibly imagine trying to nap today when she'd given him such energy? Her touch was electricity. Having shared scarcely an hour with her charged him up more than the whole night had. If he tucked into it at all, it would be to recharge with her scent on the fabric lingering from the morning before.

He didn't sleep a wink the whole day, either a flurry of activity or sitting idly with her in his mind. When he closed his eyes, he imagined all the conversations yet to have and places to take her to. The lunch shake he always drank suddenly seemed unappetizing by comparison to her reactions to his favorites, sitting on his desk nearly untouched. The other teachers played music during the break, but he didn't listen; his mind played in a loop caught by an earworm song, and her voice was the music. The only thing to cause it to pause was the blinking light on his phone.

Yamada: Sooooo you had plans this weekend? How'd it go?

Aizawa looked at him from the corner of his eye. Yamada could tell the answer before he even texted back.

It went well.

Is that really all you're going to give me? You never even told me what you came with.

We watched the sunrise.

Yamada's brow scrunched, shooting him an incredulous look.

Dude, isn't that like 5 a.m.? You made her get up that early for a date?

5:32 a.m. It's not much earlier than a usual workday. I gave her the choice of morning or evening. She picked morning.

Huh. Guess she's an early bird. What else?

We ate food.

K? Where?

Ienwan.

Yamada flicked his eyes at the ceiling. Blink and you'd walk right past it. It was nice enough inside if not tiny, great for a quick stop on the go, but come on—a date?!

I mean… they're tasty, sure. How about some place a little more upscale next time?

She wanted to stay in the neighborhood.

I know your home turf's not very lively, but there's more than Ienwan around there.

She was fine with it. She likes quieter places.

Yamada weighed that for a few moments. Clearly she didn't mind if the locale was fancy or not, and quiet? Plugging that into the equation of enjoying the traditional romantic joy of a sunrise...

Seems like a down-to-earth gal, would you say?

Yeah.

Cool, cool. Right up your alley.

Yeah.

Yamada's mouth swished. Gosh, pulling words from this guy was harder than pulling teeth!

Your choice of locale could use some work, though. Even ladies like that enjoy getting swept off their feet now and then.

Aizawa buried his amusement in the coils of his Capturing Weapon. Interesting choice of words.

Did plenty of that, too.

"Pfft!" Aizawa looked over at his sharp exclamation, then back down at his screen waiting expectantly.

No wayyyy.

Aizawa frowned.

What?

No way you're that smooth.

And why's that?

Yamada leaned back, both hands on his phone now as he typed rapidly.

Man I've known you 12 years. I've never even seen you TRY to get a gal. Not ONCE. No way you're pulling it off that easily the first time. You're beyond rusty, man.

His fingers didn't stop typing.

In fact, I think you're pulling my leg. This is one of your logical ruses, isn't it?

And typing.

I think you're lying. You're messing with me.

Aizawa's frown deepened at the tirade of texts.

I am not.

Says you, the guy who's lying. You could be making her up for all I know. I haven't even seen her.

That doesn't make any sense. Why would I ask for advice for a woman that doesn't exist?

Dude, you talk to inanimate objects when you're drunk! You'd be embarrassed if you remembered half of it.

You think I made up the kittens on the train, too? Someone had to bring them.

Every good lie has a grain of truth in it.

Yamada sent one more text and clicked send with finality.

You're a liar.

He flicked his eyes over to Aizawa with an unimpressed air. Prove it. If this didn't get him to open his mouth, nothing would.

Aizawa's pursed lips were hidden in his Capturing Weapon, but not his disgruntled brow. A new message popped up before he could object.

Hayate: Lunchtime kitty of the day!

His frown disappeared.

Yamada waited patiently beside him. It was taking him a way to respond, though he didn't seem to be typing anything. When a message did finally pop up, he was fairly shocked. It was a picture message. The picture? A lady with a lovely smile and distinct blue eyes, and an orange tabby kitten held to her navy scarf for the camera.

I'm not lying.

Yamada rubbed a hand across his face, hiding the enormous grin that threatened to overtake it while typing with the other.

Whaaaat?!

Aizawa looked faintly smug now.

Do you need more proof? She sends a cat picture every day at lunch.

She's got a pretty face!

The rest of her is too.

Some stitching on her grey scrubs didn't escape Yamada's notice, either.

Does her shirt say DOCTOR?

She's a veterinarian. Works at an animal shelter. Hence the kitten.

Had the stars aligned? Was there a full moon? Something in the water? The air? Yamada took a moment to gather himself mentally. A pretty, down-to-earth gal—intelligent, witty, and literally had "cats" as her profession. And she had her dazzling eyes set on his scraggly, eccentric, apathetic, no-frills bro? No wonder he couldn't keep his hands off his phone.

"I'm just dying to know."

Their eyes flicked up in unison. Kayama set a hand down on each of their desks, eyes flicking between their faces and their phones.

"Just what is so interesting that's going on over here?" Aizawa's expressions had been minimal and hidden behind hair and binding cloth as usual. Yamada's reactions to whatever unknown was passing between them were especially curious. But the fact that Aizawa was texting so much at all was highly uncharacteristic. Her eyes settled on him.

Aizawa's insides tensed. "Er…"

Yamada jumped in without hesitation, waving a hand with a cheery grin. "Oh, nothing! Just talking about a gal."

Aizawa sent a sharp look at him. Seriously?

"There's this new lady at the radio station, ya know. I can't get her off my mind, lately!" Yamada leaned over his seat and elbowed Aizawa's shoulder lightly. "This guy's absolutely sick of listening to me, but since when has that ever stopped me? Hahaha!"

Aizawa's insides relaxed. "... Sadly, never."

Her eyes flicked away from Aizawa and fixed on Yamada, her interest keen at the romantic topic. "Ohhh? Is it that serious?"

Yamada chuckled and leaned forward crossing his arms on the desk. "Welllll, since you asked…"

Grateful, Aizawa silently listened to him weave a spontaneous tale of lovestruck pining that left even him bizarrely impressed. He sighed and had all the right distant, dreamy looks to match his gushing affirmation of her every tiny quirk and worthwhile trait. Kayama laughed at him, but he gave the impression of being more concerned that she was laughing at his conjured lady.

Or, at least, Aizawa supposed he had made her up; vaguely, he recalled a woman Yamada had mentioned, but beyond that, he couldn't tell what was true or acting. But more interesting was how uncanny it was to have the feelings inside himself vocalized. He should have scoffed at such an outpouring of romantic drivel. Instead, alongside Yamada's words, he pictured Hayate's pouted lips swished to the side at his teasing; the impish grin she got right before throwing a witty jab right back; the long, steady looking into his eyes saying nothing at all; the way her eyes shined when her words tumbled out of her mouth too fast to keep up with her brilliant mind. Yamada clearly understood that feeling.

Kayama's curiosity was satisfied, and Yamada leaned back in his chair. He sent a subtle smile Aizawa's way.

Aizawa smiled faintly and looked down at his phone.

Thanks.

It left him self-reflecting on every day that crept by, the clock ticking down to the weekend.

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Hayate frowned at the fresh photos on her phone as she flicked through them. Blurry. Out of focus. Not looking at the camera. Not centered. She deleted them one by one. When she got to the end, she lowered her phone and looked back at the orange tabby kitten darting around the room.

"You just can't hold still."

It paused briefly to tear at a loose string on a fish toy, and she bent down to scoop it up with her hand. It wiggled as she brought it up to her chest and tried to climb back down.

"Calm down, squirrel monkey."

A firm hold kept the kitten in place, her navy scarf shielding her skin from scrambling claws.

"I just need one picture."

The kitten gave up for a moment at her unyielding grip, eyes darting around. Her thumb clicked quickly.

"There."

She set the little scamp down gently and it immediately took off back for the fish toy. She checked the photo and was satisfied.

"Finally got you."

She typed a short message to go with the picture then sent it on its way. Looking down at the kitten again, she smiled and picked up a toy for another brief round of playing before putting both the kitty and the various toys scattered around back in their places.

Daily dose of cuteness out of the way, Hayate headed back to the staff room to get her lunchbox from the fridge. Kasuya was sitting at the staff room table pushed back slightly on account of her pregnancy. The blond vet tech glanced up from her phone and lunch bowl when she came in.

"Back from getting the perfect cat picture?"

Hayate defended herself with a smile. "Hey, it's my lunch break. I'll take all the pictures I want." She opened the fridge and came out with her lunchbox, scooping her phone out of her pocket as she closed the door.

Kasuya pushed up her black-framed glasses and sat up slightly when Hayate showed her the picture of the day.

"He likes the pictures where the cats are playing, but she just wouldn't hold still, so I had to pick her up." She looked over at her friend eagerly. "I asked him this morning, and he said he'll come bowling this weekend."

Kasuya smirked. "Ohhh? So we'll finally get to see this guy you've been talking up a storm about."

"I haven't talked about him that much." Such an over-exaggeration.

Kasuya just gave her a look. "Hayate, you nearly have half of us sighing over this guy."

Hayate balked at that. "No! I have not."

Kasuya laughed at her, leaning forward on her arms with a dreamy note in her voice. "You were gushing about how ~sweet~ and ~surprising~ he was when he kissed you goodbye this morning—while wrenching a rotten carnassial out of a cat mouth that smelled like death."

Hayate quickly opened her mouth to object, but no words came to mind, her cheeks going pink instead. "I—well, okay." True.

Kasuya laughed again. "I'm just teasing you. Honestly, I'm pretty darn glad it's worked out."

"Thanks…" Hayate glanced at the doorway thinking about sitting at her desk in the office with thoughts of texting him again, but some lingering embarrassment made her eyes flick back to Kasuya and pull back the chair next to her instead.

"So, how are things going with you?"

"Oh, steady as she goes. Can't wait to get home and kick my feet up. Tadaki's being great about catering to my every craving." Kasuya's eyes lit with a spark. "We've been crashing on the couch watching this show together every night. I think you'd get a kick out of it."

"Oh yeah?"

"The dry humor is fantastic. you'd love the leading lady..."

Hayate listened as she got her lunch out and ate, laughing at the characters and scenes Kasuya brought up and commenting along the way. Kasuya brought it around to books, too, and then they were comparing both forms of entertainment with Hayate chatting eagerly about her latest novel. When Kasuya left to clock back in, Hayate was reluctant to see her go.

Alone at the table, she checked her phone again.

Aizawa: Who's this? They go well with your scarf.

She smiled.

Since when do you know about complementary colors?

Is that complementary?

Blue and orange. And this is Miko.

She stole little snippets of time throughout the day to text him that tided her over until the next morning to see him again.

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Hayate woke up before her alarm, eyes wide open and alert with a dream. She grasped with mental fingers to catch it before it escaped, but the intangible visions slipped away. She looked at her phone to check the time and found it to be a solid twenty minutes before she had to get up. Setting it to the side, she burrowed into her blankets further, except for her hand which reached out to pet Tenten's back. The cat stirred and started purring while she stared at the ceiling, trying to remember. Scraps of the plot that remained carried an incoherent logic, but she knew that he'd been there. She closed her eyes and filled her mind with new images, imagining all the words to say to him soon.

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"Good morning."

He eased onto the bench that she'd beaten him to again. She leaned into his side as he slid his arm around her shoulders with a perfect fit.

She looked up, smiling into his eyes. She'd caught that lively glint in them before with his coffee scheme and teasing, but she'd never seen it so often as this week.

"I had a dream last night."

"What about?"

"Can't remember most of it. But you were in it."

"Hm… do you remember what I was doing?"

"Not really, but I have a vague sense of it being something ridiculous."

"Not surprising, for a dream."

"Do you dream a lot?"

He hesitated, eyes darting to the side. "Not often…"

"Ever remember any?"

"... Not often." He cleared his throat slightly. "So, uh, that thing you were talking about yesterday, the test thing."

"Um… the H3N9 assay?"

"Yeah. That. Do you, uh, do that kind of… stuff? At work?"

"Uhhh… well, we might run a titer test, but usually we focus more on giving vaccines."

"Tell me about that."

"Um… okay. Sure."

She mentally shrugged as she looked straight to collect her vaccine knowledge. He'd developed a rather sudden curiosity in all things veterinary. His interest in it really made her wonder when it just seemed to put him nearly to sleep on the train again, his head on her shoulder. White noise, perhaps. Still, he did manage to stay just awake enough to attentively mumble questions into her scarf. It was cuddly… and a bit goofy. He remembered to open his eyes for his stop this time, though, and grab his sleeping bag, too. She kept her eyes on him as he stood up, hopeful and anticipating. He relieved her by stooping over for a too-short kiss goodbye that sent her heart aflutter all over again with its sweet simplicity.

She'd never foreseen uncovering this softly romantic part of him, buried far beneath his many layers of sleeping bag, binding cloth, wrinkled clothes, disheveled scruff, cold logic, aloofness, and social awkwardness. A bizarrely sweet 'onion' once you got down to the middle; in a manner of speaking. It was amazing what one kiss in a greenhouse had sparked.

Or a Quirk, the little voice in the back of her head scoffed. Too soon to tell. She swept it back into its dark corner. No. Some of his reaction, maybe. That much she expected. But the qualities he'd revealed before they'd ever touched lips and the personal feelings he'd shared on day one cemented her own. That kiss was an affirmation of all the things she'd fallen for. And his careful, gentle attention in every touch on that rooftop held a promise for a future that filled her heart. She counted down the hours to see him again.

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Saturday morning...

Aizawa rose to get ready for work, but his feet were in no great hurry. If anything, he trudged about the apartment. What would be the point in rushing to an empty bench on a day she wouldn't be there?

But he did pay mind to his appearance. He'd have to head straight from work to her. He shaved and picked his least-ragged work clothes before leaving. But perhaps most disturbing of all, he purposely left his sleeping bag behind.

He knew he wasn't going to be able to sleep today, just as he hadn't any day before in this whole week. Every time he closed his eyes at work and on patrol, he just imagined her. He tucked into his sleeping bag every night but hardly slept at all except to dream of her. The only place his mind calmed was against her shoulder.

People called it falling in love; they were incorrect. He wasn't landing on rooftops but floating on air with every nightly patrol. The lights of the city night seemed brighter, more colorful, promising the horizon. Every morning was pure bliss to be near her; every morning torture to leave her again. He noticed how every parting kiss that week brightened her eyes. He wanted to kiss her so much deeper than that; to feel her whole body on his; to taste her, breathe her in, bring the dreams he'd had to life. It defied all logic how swiftly and overwhelmingly it had possessed his mind. And yet, that didn't bother him. The only thing that troubled him was their distance apart.

He dragged his feet to every class yet vanished out the door the instant the shift ended.

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16:10.

Hayate checked her phone when it vibrated.

On my way.

She smiled at the screen.

See you soon.

"Gahhh!"

She looked up at Kasuya's dismayed tone as the bowling ball veered off course with a dramatic spin and into the gutter, completely missing all four remaining pins.

Kasuya headed back to her seat. "Dang! That was such an easy spare, all lined up."

"You could do worse than 6," Hayate assured her.

"It's this one's fault," Kasuya pointed at her belly. "He's making me off-balance."

Her husband, Tadaki, snorted amusedly beside her. "Our kid's gonna pop out and the first thing you'll do is scold him for your gutter balls."

She slapped his arm playfully. "That's my story and I'm sticking to it."

Hayate smiled as she listened to the pair bicker good-naturedly some more and watched Murano get up from beside her to bowl. Despite them having the advantage of youth, the senior veterinarian was absolutely demolishing them all. She watched him pull off a solid nine in his first go and clear the tenth. She hadn't seen him get less than eight so far.

"Dang, Murano-san." She gave him an impressed look as he sat back down. "You look like a pro."

He hesitated, then admitted sheepishly, "... I was, sort of. I was in a league in my youth."

"Whaaat? I never knew that."

Kasuya and Tadaki overheard. "No wonder you're wiping the floor with us!"

"But that was decades ago!" Murano quickly held up his hands. "I've been a hobbyist most of my life, though I stopped playing so regularly when it bothered my arthritis."

"Ahhh, that's a shame."

Kasuya slouched back in her seat. "Well, if I get even half his score, I'll be happy."

"I'll be prepared for your unhappiness, then," Tadaki muttered under his breath loud enough for her to hear on purpose.

"Ah!" He was already grinning when she protested and lightly hit his arm again.

Hayate gave a hum. "Better watch out or she'll have you sleeping on the couch."

Tadaki shrugged. "Eh, it's alright. It's a comfy couch." He smiled at his wife, arm settling lightly behind her shoulders. "Besides, she'll probably come join me for a backrub, anyway."

Kasuya nodded along with that. "That's true. That is one thing he's quite good at."

Hayate's thoughts immediately jumped back to the neck rub Aziawa had given her one morning; she wouldn't have minded if he'd done a bit more than that. She craned her neck, looking behind them toward the entry area of the building. Their group's lanes were reserved at the end of the building farthest from the entry. Kasuya and Tadaki's backs were against the wall and Murano and Hayate across from them. She didn't think he'd be able to recognize the back of her head from here. Getting her phone out again, she sent a message; just in case.

Our group's on the lanes farthest from the front door. Let me know when you're here.

"Hayate, you're up."

"Uh, right."

She got up quickly for her turn. Compared to Kasuya, she was doing pretty good; about equal with Tadaki. She tied him up for seven in the round and sent another subconscious glance to the entryway before sitting back down again. They went through several more rounds chatting amongst themselves and the others in their group in the lane beside them, though there was always a bit of hyper-awareness of the phone in her pocket pinned to the back of her mind.

It was during her turn and halfway through her roll when her pocket vibrated. Her side tensed as her fingers let go, and the ball veered dramatically to the left and into the gutter missing all ten pins by a long shot.

The rest of the group gave her a curious look. What the heck was that?

Kasuya raised her hands. "Okay—I know I'm doing poorly, but you don't have to throw the game for me."

"I wasn't! My phone went off." Hayate walked back to them, getting out the device.

Aizawa: I'm here

Her eyes flicked to the entry, but couldn't see him from here. "He's up front."

"Ah, gotta go get your guy, huh?" Kasuya looked back at her pins. "Wanna finish your round, or we can wait?"

"No, no, I'll finish it. You don't have to wait." Hayate stood by the ball return, looking at it tensely with her finger tapping the side. Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up!

"Are you sure? We can wait." Tadaki's eyes flicked humorously to the other man. "Or we could have Murano roll for you."

"Mmm…" This thing is taking forever! She was about to throw her hands up and leave when the ball finally appeared. Finally!

She went up the bowling lane with a quick step. I don't even care, ball. She locked her eyes onto the pins with impatient purpose and let it go, then turned away without even waiting to see what she got.

"Okay, I'll go get him."

She heard the pins crash and Kasuya let out a hoot as she departed, but she didn't look back. Walking up to where the front desk was, she immediately spotted Aizawa coming around the corner. Their eyes locked with a mutual smile sparking. She was about to greet him when the colors on his feet caught her eye, and she giggled instead.

He stepped up to her curiously. "What?"

"Those shoes look funny on you."

He glanced down at the bowling shoes he'd just changed into, split half-and-half red and blue. "Ah." He looked back at her, still smiling. "... Happy to amuse you." He took her hand, stepping closer with his eyes clearly focused on the morning kiss he'd been sorely missing.

"Hey." She pulled his hand as she stepped back and turned, flicking her eyes between the very public place and looking at him coyly. "Save it for later."

He exhaled a little. Let them watch. He didn't complain, though, following her lead.

"Are you bowling with your Capturing Weapon?" she asked on the way, casting a glance at it. He could have kept it with his boots.

"I'd rather not let it out of my sight."

"I can't think of why anyone would be inclined to take it."

"Perhaps not, but it's still equipment. On the slight chance something did happen, I'd get an earful from the support company."

"Ah. Fair enough. Do you want something to drink?"

"Beer." He was sure he'd need it to get through tonight.

She focused her attention ahead as they came up to her group's lanes. "We've got these four lanes here at the end."

She led him to the tables in the corner that they'd commandeered for their group with said pitchers of beer, soft drinks, and appetizers at the ready. He cast a glance at two teenage boys who looked related sitting next to each other with their phones, but they seemed determined to ignore everyone's existence for the evening.

"My boss's kids," Hayate offered in explanation pouring him a cup.

He nodded indifferently of this fact casting a look over the collection of adults, some teens, and a handful of youngsters that made up this category he was going to call: people that he would tolerate engaging with for her sake.

Hayate then led him to the seating area on the wooden floors by the bowling lanes with him downing his whole beer along the way in preparation. She looked around with a smile as the three other individuals saw them coming.

"Hey, I'm back."

She resumed her seat beside Murano and Aizawa took her other side, setting his empty cup on a narrow table situated between the benches alongside their drinks. Hayate gestured at Murano. "This is Murano Atsushi." Then to the two across from her. "This is Kasuya Yuko and husband, Kasuya Tadaki." And lastly. "Everyone, this is Aizawa Shota."

He bowed his head with the social propriety demanded of him. "Hi. Pleased to meet you."

Hayate sat back and observed nervously as they collectively examined the newcomer. The men appeared largely indifferent and likely were. But Kasuya was never one to hide her feelings, and her face served as a clear barometer of her internal thoughts. Which, if Hayate were to sum up what she was reading right now, it would be maybe a letdown: Ohhh... That's him? That's it?

His mouth was hidden unreadably in his Capturing Weapon, but not his pale skin and baggy eyes. The clothes he'd chosen might have been his least-ragged work attire, but all-black and still loosely-fitted wasn't a look that was impressing anybody; especially with how it didn't match the bowling shoes. He'd pulled his hair back and shaved, at least, but he still clearly was below Kasuya's expectations of attractiveness that Hayate had set.

Aizawa just stared back at them, evaluating these people who mattered to Hayate and expectantly braced to be the center of their attention for at least a little while. Murano was a small man about sixty and could have passed unassumingly as a Japanese salaryman, though looking closer, his wizened and distinctly golden eyes suggested further experience. Takano's relaxed face appeared affable, and along with his lightly ruffled hair, stretched out posture, and casual clothes, he gave a laid back impression. Kasuya seemed downright inquisitive, sizing him up behind her black glasses and leaning forward a little. He had a feeling she'd be paying him the most attention out of the three of them.

She didn't refute his assessment, offering a cordial smile and lifting her hand in a wave.

"Hey! Want to join this round?" She glanced over at the bowling panel for setup.

"No thanks. I'm good." He glanced at the bracket. "You're already well into it, anyway."

"Alright! Getcha next time." Kasuya glanced at Hayate. "It's back to you."

"Ah." Hayate got up and Aizawa watched her go, resting his right arm over the back of the bench in preparation for her return. She glanced at the scoreboard as she walked up and paused, blinking at the previous frame. "I got a spare?"

"Oh yeah!" Kasuya grinned at her. "You didn't even stop to look when you went to get him."

Hayate gave a pleased smile as she gathered her ball. "Huh!" Hadn't expected the haste to pay off.

Kasuya's attention returned to Aizawa.

"So, Hayate told us you were coming straight from work. You're a high school teacher, right?"

He glanced at her. "Yeah." She waited, but he didn't elaborate. His eyes flicked back to watching Hayate as she made her first roll.

"How was your day?" Kasuya asked.

He glanced at Kasuya again. "It was alright." Then back to Hayate as she walked back to the ball return. She looked at the group, especially him. He still didn't elaborate, so Kasuya searched mentally a bit for something more interesting.

"Hayate never mentioned what school you work at."

Hayate heard, glancing at Kasuya then looking at him, too. His eyes flicked away from them, a scornful note in his voice. "One that gets enough attention as it is."

Kasuya snorted slightly. "What? You work at some big shot place?" Certainly didn't look the part.

He didn't answer her, still looking purposely at some indistinct point to the side. People's fascination with the top hero schools never seemed to tire, nor their exhaustive questions about it once learned.

Kasuya gave Hayate a raised eyebrow at his demeanor and Hayate offered a sheepish smile. So small talk isn't his thing.

"Excuse me, Aizawa-san." Murano looked over with a polite smile, catching his attention. "I don't know what you teach."

Aizawa hesitated, eyes flicking to the side with a long pause that was borderline awkward, then came to a decision and looked back to him. "... Hero studies."

Hayate was not the only one surprised to hear that with the whole group reacting.

"Hero?" Kasuya looked over pointedly at Hayate, who paused in gathering her bowling ball. "I thought Hayate told me that you teach physical education."

Hayate cast her own look at Aizawa. "I was under the impression he was a bit shy about telling everyone that."

He shrugged. "It is pretty physical."

The women looked at each other silently. That really didn't explain anything.

"Just to clarify," Murano spoke up again. "You are a Pro Hero?"

"Yeah."

"Huh." Tadaki looked surprised and interested. "Oh, what's your hero name?"

"Eraser Head."

All three of them looked at him blankly.

Tadaki smiled apologetically. "Sorry, I don't recognize you. Is the scarf part of your costume?"

"It's capturing equipment for me to do my job."

They collectively looked at the cloth in puzzlement. Tadaki's head tilted as he struggled to figure it out. "Capture… like a lasso, maybe?"

Aizawa frowned slightly. His eyes darted over to Hayate, then back across the group. This was getting a bit irksome, though he maintained his cordiality for her sake. His eyes settled on Kasuya's abdomen. People were happy to talk about stuff like that instead, right? "So… you two are expecting?"

She looked at him blankly. "What?"

His brow twitched in confusion. Was it… not Tadaki's kid? "I mean, you're expecting…?"

"Expecting what?" She still looked blank-faced.

His insides froze. Anxiety started rapidly rising. No, wait. She definitely is. He could clearly see that. "You're…uh." ...Right?

She looked at him confusedly. "I'm what?"

Her reaction was extremely concerning. He wasn't so sure, now. Shit. His mind started racing for ways to get out of a grievous faux pas.

Her face suddenly split open with a grin as she laughed, waving her hand at him. "Oh, I'm just kidding! I wanted to see your reaction. I'm seven months."

And what a petrified expression he'd been making without his awareness. His insides relaxed and he could breathe again, though certainly not happily with his frown resuming.

Tadaki laughed easily with her. "Sorry, that's my wife's humor for you."

Aizawa looked at him but didn't reply. Not a funny joke.

Hayate wore a slightly concerned smile as she turned her back on them all, finally walking up to make her second roll. It took her months to really get to know him; one social event probably wasn't going to accomplish the same feat.

Tadaki looked at Aizawa but read his expression and looked over to Murano instead. "Murano-san, what's your granddaughter's class up to for Culture Day?"

"They're baking a variety of traditional desserts."

"Oh! Tasty—" Hayate focused on making her roll a quick one while Aizawa watched her, keeping barely one ear on the conversation. She walked back to him as soon as she was done, smiling a little at his arm waiting for her and resuming her seat. Tadaki got up to bowl, and Kasuya looked at Hayate.

"What're your brother's kids up to for Culture Day?"

"I know Haruka's class is doing something with origami. Kazuo's class hadn't decided yet last time I talked to them on the phone."

Hayate looked at Aizawa curiously.

"What's your class going to be doing?"

"Some kind of parody play."

"Oh, parody of what?"

Aizawa stared at her for a second then down at the floor, trying to recall. Her eyes looked interested, and that was enough to earn his effort. "...Honestly, I'm not really sure." He looked back at her. "I'll find out, though."

She still looked curious, leaning in slightly with her voice quietly suggestive just for him. "I might be interested in seeing that."

"Ah." He started running the mental calculations on that request. "It's still a month away… We'll figure something out." She looked happy to hear it. Definitely, he'd get on that.

Kasuya watched the exchange with a lopsided smirk forming. To be young and in love! Her husband started walking back up to the bench, and she held out a hand to stop him before he could sit down. "Hey, go bowl for me."

"Huh? You want me to pad your score?"

"No! My feet hurt."

Tadaki weighed the decision for a moment then shrugged. "As you wish." He walked back up to the lane while Kasuya focused on Aizawa.

"So, Aizawa-san, tell us about yourself."

He looked away from Hayate reluctantly. "Er… like what?"

"Whatever."

"... Can you be more specific?"

"Where are you from?"

"Tokyo."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-seven."

"What's your blood type?"

"B."

"What do you like to do for fun?"

"Sleep."

"Sleep?"

"Yes."

"Any good hero stories?"

"Not really."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Speaking of good stories though," Hayate interjected to save him. "Kasuya, you're lucky you had Friday off. We had this firecracker of a cat..." Aizawa appreciated the silence Hayate's wild tale of a feral cat bought him until she had to get up for her turn again. Kasuya smiled at him while he kept his eyes on Hayate.

"So what sort of Pro are you, anyway?"

"Capture specialist."

Tadaki looked curiously at his Capturing Weapon again. "What does that entail?"

"A lot of details. Boring ones."

"Hey!" Hayate interjected from beside the ball return. "Speaking of boring, you know what's not boring? There was a new study I was reading in the journal of…" Murano looked very interested and engaged, Kasuya rolled her eyes at the two doctors delving into the medical details like usual, Tadaki seemed to be glazing over, and Aizawa hung off her every word even though he didn't understand half of it. His peace lasted until Murano got up to bowl, and then Kasuya was at him again.

"You strike me as a cat person, Aizawa-san."

"Yes."

"We've always got pictures of the animals at work. Certainly Hayate's showed you plenty."

"Yes."

"Which ones have been your favorite?"

He actually paused to consider that one, thinking for a minute. It was the first tolerable question she'd come up with in a while. He glanced at Hayate beside him, who looked curious, too. "... I've enjoyed all of them." Hayate smiled.

Kasuya chortled quietly. Good answer. She gestured at herself and Tadaki. "We've always been dog-people, personally."

Why wasn't he surprised?

"I'm especially fond of the big dogs."

"Mmhm," he grumbled noncommittally.

"Our current dog is Riku. He's an akita—"

Hayate looked at him apologetically as she got up to bowl, leaving him to face Kasuya's canine enthusiasm alone. The only good thing about her getting up every round was the newfound appreciation for the sport he was gaining in the opportunity it provided to check out her ass.

"—But one of the best things about Riku has got to be how great he is with cats. Especially kittens." His ears did tune back into her a little at that, flicking a glance her way.

"... Hm."

"I swear, every time he looks at every kitten, he thinks 'this is my new puppy'. They can walk all over him, he doesn't care at all. Totally a 50 kilo teddy bear. There was even one kitten we were watching a while ago who walked right up to his food bowl while he was eating. He gave it right up to that little kitty and laid down to watch him eat it instead! He could have eaten that kitten, mustache and all!"

Mustache?

Aizawa's glance lingered on Kasuya. She looked thoughtful for a moment, reminiscing. "Trying to remember what name that cat ended up with… Mick?"

He made a tentatively interested offering. "... Mic?"

She looked at him quickly. "Yeaaah, that's it!" Her gaze dropped to her lap as she pulled out her phone. "I'm sure I've got some pictures of the two of them from back then..."

He didn't even notice Hayate walking back over, his eyes glued on Kasuya. Hayate took a seat and looked between the two of them questioningly at their silence.

"Found'em." Kasuya held out her phone.

Hayate leaned forward and received it, her eyes lighting up with recognition at the animals in the picture. "Oh! Mic!"

Aizawa leaned closely over her shoulder to look with her at Mic curled up against a robust akita with a dark brindle back and white legs and belly, his head on his paws and eyes looking up at the camera while the kitten slept.

"Gosh, Mic was so tiny back then."

"There's more there if you want to scroll through."

Aizawa moved his hand for the phone, and Hayate passed it to him wordlessly. While he kept his eyes locked on the phone, Hayate lifted her eyes to Kasuya with a warm smile, and she winked back. Two can play at cat pictures.

He flicked through the rest of the Mic and Riku pictures leisurely for the rest of the round, a faint smile tucked in the coils of his binding cloth. Mona and Sesame appeared in several of them, too. When he came to the end, the next picture was a different kitten that was mostly white except for a black hat marking. His faint smile died out at how sickly this one looked; abnormally thin with weepy eyes.

Hayate noticed the picture and pointed at the screen. "Ah, I remember that one." She looked at Kasuya. "Yuri."

"Oh yeah," Kasuya nodded. "Is that the first picture? The sick one? There's a few more progress pictures further along. You can keep looking."

"... Do you take care of a lot of kittens?" he asked Kasuya a question for the first time.

"Yeah, we foster a few throughout the year. Usually the really sickly ones. I'm a sucker. Can't help rooting for the underdogs."

"... That's not a bad quality, though."

He flicked through another picture finding a dog, then another dog, then a black-and-white image that he judged to be an X-ray of a dog.

"Oh!" Hayate stopped him on that one, clearly recognizing it. "Zoom in right there. Guess what that is."

He examined the abnormality she pointed out; clearly artificial and round. "... It looks electronic. A chip of some kind?"

"Yeah." She made a circle with her thumb and pressed it to her upper arm. "It's a glucose monitoring implant for diabetics. His owner uses them."

He stared at her. "... And it just… swallowed the whole thing?"

"Yep!"

"...Why?"

She threw her hands up. "Who knows! Dachshunds are real hoover hounds."

It was stupid stuff like this that was a clear example of why he just didn't understand dogs. "... That would be why I'm a cat person."

"Hey, cats eat weird stuff, too," Hayate objected. "I remember this one surgery I did. We knew this cat had something blocking up its stomach, but we couldn't tell what in the X-rays. I get in there, and I realized it was hair ties. Seventeen of them!"

"Seventeen?" He looked at her in disbelief. "Just… eating them like a bowl of noodles?"

"I think it was over time based on how they looked, but… yeah. Cats, dogs, they're all weird." She looked down at the phone again with a smile. "You know, looking at a vet tech's phone is probably more educational about my job than any of our morning conversations."

Kasuya chuckled. "Oh yeah. And I take lots of great pictures."

He considered that information with interest and flicked to another picture. Yuri popped up again, this time at a healthy weight with clear eyes and obviously a bit older. He smiled a little at that sight.

"So this kitten, Yuri, is doing well now?"

"Yeah, she's been adopted."

"... That's good." He appreciated the kitten for another moment, smiling, then flicked to a new picture. He made a startled face. "Uh."

Hayate snickered at once and looked at Kasuya teasingly. "Is this like your workplace sexies?"

Tadaki, following along mutely with the conversion up until then, looked over with a squint. "Huh?"

Hayate took the phone from Aizawa and held it out to them with a dramatic voice. "Draw me like one of your French poodles!"

Kasuya saw the picture of herself several months pregnant laying in an iconic 'sexy' movie pose on the floor, smiling up at the camera with an actual poodle halfway in the frame with its expression clearly saying it didn't have a clue why it was there. She immediately covered her mouth as she laughed. "Oh, I forgot about that!"

Tadaki studied the picture of his wife with a slowly growing smile, though his brow was perplexed. "Why are you on the floor?"

Kasuya huffed in exasperation. "I had to get on the floor to do a blood draw on this dog here, but she had stupid veins and kept moving, and when I finally did get it, I was tired and I didn't want to get up, so I just decided to lay there. And so they took a picture."

His face said he didn't follow the logic as he looked at every member of the group with resigned acceptance. "I married this one."

"You betcha did," she nodded sharply. "I'm your weirdo now."

"As I am frequently reminded."

"I'm sure I've got more weird pictures where that came from." She waved her hand at them. "Go ahead and keep looking, if you want. We'll get to laugh all over again at me."

Aizawa looked reluctant after that particular picture to discover further oddities, but Hayate brought the phone back and kept scrolling. Fortunately, they found mostly animals. Occasionally they'd come to some medical picture of varying levels of graphic detail, and that turned into an opportunity for storytime courtesy of Hayate and Kasuya's joint explanation. Sometimes Murano joined in, though generally he was satisfied being the quietest veterinary professional.

He and Tadaki had their own ongoing conversations with mostly Kasuya joining in as she swapped between conversation threads. Despite Aizawa's initial misgivings, it wasn't as bad of a social exchange as he'd prepared for it to be. Plenty of cat pictures and stories with Hayate leaning on his shoulder improved the experience. Though it was quite a lot of talking.

The game was wrapping up when word of the food arriving started percolating through their group. Kasuya took an eager lead on getting back to the tables with Tadaki in tow and the rest of them following.

Aizawa was eager for another beer as they approached the main gathering, anticipating more mandatory socializing. Sure enough, as they waited a bit for people to shuffle into order as the main dishes were placed and plastic utensils arranged, a blue-haired woman he vaguely recalled being in the group's third bowling lane looked him over and smiled at Hayate when they stopped close by.

"Hey, Hayate. Is this him?"

"Yeah." Hayate gestured between them. "Aizawa Shota, Asano Harumi. She handles adoptions and that sort of thing at the front desk at work."

"Nice to meet you," he offered minimally, then looked over at where the beer was. "I'm going to get a refill." Avoiding a conversation was about the only voluntary way he was leaving her side tonight.

"Oh, would you mind refilling mine, too please?" Hayate added, passing him her empty cup. "Beer."

"Sure."

Walking sluggishly at best, he went to the table with the drinks on it and poured as slowly as reasonably possible. He could see Hayate and Asano were still chatting. He shifted his eyes away and leaned back slightly on the table. Might as well pretend to admire the decor with its tournament and group pictures for a while. And drink his own cup's refill for good measure. The second refill would buy him some more time away from social circumstances.

He turned and started reaching for the pitcher again when one of the youngsters scurried up. He paused, studying the girl who looked to be around four with two orange braids and noted her empty cup. She glanced up at the table and him by proximity, shyly hopeful. His eyes softened.

"Would you like some more?"

"Yes please."

There was soda or something red he figured to be juice. "Which one?"

She pointed at the juice and handed him the cup when he reached out his hand. Carefully, he returned the refilled juice to her making sure she had both hands on it before letting go.

"Thank you."

She turned and started heading back from the direction she came at the same time a red-haired woman carrying two plates started hurrying their way who he surmised to be her mother. Mom looked at her daughter's cup and then Aizawa, smiling politely.

"Thanks."

"No problem." He looked away, reaching for the beer again. Her eyes lingered on him in recognition, though.

"Hey, you came here with Hayate, didn't you?"

"Uh, yeah."

"I take it you're Aizawa, then?"

Geez, how many people knew about him? "Yes." He finished pouring quickly. "Pleased to meet you. I'm heading back to her now." Aaaand it was a short-lived peace while it lasted.

He rejoined her plating up at the other table with her giving him a quick smile at his return with the cups. "Thanks."

Freeing his hand from her cup to get a plate himself, she waited for him to finish and looked at their seating options. The group was filling up their booth and chair seating rather cozily, the volume already pretty lively with the conversations bouncing around. Considerately, she flicked her eyes back to him as he stepped up beside her.

"Where would you like to sit?"

The sight of the bustling group that had ruefully overtaken the solitude of even the unsociable pair of teenagers was enough to repel his gaze. He scanned the space and his eyes settled on the seating in the bar area placed along the same wall as their group. There was a half-wall dividing it from the long stretch of bowling lanes and group tables, though their group was still nearby and clearly visible.

"Do you mind over there?"

She followed to where he was looking, then smiled at him. "Need a break, huh?"

"A little…" He eyed the group again. "Parties aren't really my thing."

"That's fine."

She started walking for the bar and he followed in relief. Hayate picked a small table and sat down facing the group to watch them while Aizawa sat beside her. She glanced at his plate as he got settled.

"You didn't get much food! I'd thought you'd really go for it; logically, since it's free."

"Eh… not very hungry." Seemed to be the theme of the week with his lunch shakes taking the rest of the school day to finish off. He was force-chugging the dinner ones just to have calories for work's sake. She didn't seem to be similarly affected, judging by her plate with a fair helping of each item as the two of them started to eat quietly.

She finished a bite with her eyes flicking to the group then back at him appreciatively. "This might not be your thing, but you're being a good sport about it. I think Kasuya's liking you."

"How can you tell? She just seems to keep talking."

"It's all in her face. She's rather upfront about displaying her feelings."

He frowned at his plate. "... Hm." Guess he wasn't reading her well enough. "... So, how many of them did you tell about me?"

"Hmmm… directly? Four. But also, it's kind of one of those things other people overhear by proximity, then everybody just knows and talks about it, heheh." She glanced at him curiously. "Who have you told?"

"My best friend. That's it."

"Oh." She looked a tad worried. "Does it bother you—I mean, it's a little late now, but. Future reference?"

"I prefer to keep my private life private unless it comes up on its own… the folks I hang around are the pestering sort. Though, if you'd rather talk… I suppose it depends on what about."

"Nothing too personal," she assured, then her eyes shifted to the side. "Mmm… just that I think you're funny, good-looking, a bit eccentric, and surprisingly romantic." She looked at him a bit guiltily, talking out of the corner of her mouth. "I might have been a little excited to brag about you."

He looked surprised at her then away with a flattered smile starting to creep onto his face. "Oh… Well, a bit of bragging's fine, I suppose." He'd give her more reason to as soon as they could get out of here.

"I'm surprised that you told her you're a Pro Hero. You told me not to go bragging to anyone about it when it first came up."

"Mm… well, our relationship was different back then. Less… involved. For a relationship that's going somewhere, there's no practical reason in keeping quiet about it since it came up."

His eyes dropped to the side for a moment with a more serious air. "I haven't brought it up before, but… this doesn't come up a lot because it's disapproved of, though it's not unheard of, for attention to come to the close friends and families of heroes from the media, or people with grudges. I try not to get involved in any of that, but it's not an impossibility, just so you know."

"Oh, I see." Her eyes dropped to the side considering that. "I suppose you're not very popular in the public eye, at least, so that must be helpful."

"Yeah." His eyes shifted back to her. "Anyway… enough of that." She glanced down when she felt his hand slide onto her knee under the table, and flicked her eyes back to find his lips spreading in a suggestive smile. "How long were you planning on staying here?"

She smiled and slid her hand down his arm to his hand, holding it and stopping it from moving. "I want to play one more game. And you're playing this time."

His hand rolled away and trapped hers, thumb stroking the back of her thumb. "Why?"

Her thumb slipped out from underneath and pinned his. "Why not? You've got the shoes on."

"Because you need to wear them to be on those floors." His hand was large enough that he just spread his fingers to cover her thumb and fingers both, holding them in place against her knee.

She bumped her knee against his with a pout. "You're being no fun! Do you suck at bowling? Is that why you don't want to?"

"I mean… it's not really my thing. I don't know if I'm awful at it."

She bumped up against his shoulder, looking at him sympathetically. "Do you have an embarrassing stance when you bowl? Are you afraid I'll laugh at you?"

"No, I don't. I'm not."

She pressed into his shoulder and knee. "Then come bowl with me." Her eyes were demanding for a moment, then she dipped her head looking at him up through her eyelashes with a softer tone. "And then we'll leave after."

His eyes stayed locked onto her without blinking, acutely aware of every point of contact between their bodies. He could see the look in her eyes clearly. She wasn't fooling him. And her lips were close enough to tempt him sorely. But, if she wanted to bowl first...

"Deal."

He certainly wasn't going to disappoint her.

She leaned back with a satisfied smirk and returned her attention to her plate. He couldn't be bothered to remove his hand from hers beneath the table to raise his utensil again. His eyes roamed over her profile, watching the shadows shift along her exposed neck, no scarf in sight. Reimagining the taste of her skin held far more interest than anything on his plate. He glanced only briefly to the clock he'd identified on the wall behind the bar, his impatience tempered by her promise.

After finishing a bite, she looked up with a thought, scanning all the faces in the group.

"I suppose I could tell you a little bit about everyone; since they already know about you."

She had his undivided attention. "Go ahead."

"They're all good people, whether you talk to them or not." Her eyes settled on one person. "Going around the table starting at the right; do you see the woman with the black hair? That's…"

He listened to her intently with his eyes flicking between her and each person as she went around the table giving him the names and key descriptors of everyone seated there. Sometimes her eyes would light up with a memory that sparked a short story that made her smile. He didn't say much, but he listened keenly. He personally didn't care about these people more than he did any others, but he could tell that they mattered to her and that was enough for him to pay attention and remember them. Though, it certainly was a lot of names.

She felt his fingers running absentmindedly over hers the entire time she talked, though didn't let it show how much the distraction made her nerves tingle. He had a rather obvious inclination for something other than bowling night; not that she could disagree with that. Looking at him, though, he seemed attentive. But she wondered, the voice nagging from the dark corner of her head: was it just white noise he was hearing?

"Alright," she finished naming everyone at the table and looked at him playfully. "Pop quiz."

His fingers paused and he gave her a wide-eyed look. "Uh… thought you said I wasn't going to have to remember names tonight."

"You don't have to… but if you do, you get a prize." Her playful tone and eyes immediately had his interest.

"I'm listening…"

"If you get them all right, we'll have a kiss now. Or if you'd rather not try, we'll just save it all for later." She waited with a coy look fixed on him, watching his eyes flick down to her lips then back up to hers.

"I'll do it." Forget bowling, this was his kind of game.

He focused his full attention on the group starting at the right. "Kinoshita. Murano. Watanabe. Kasuya Yuki and Tadaki. Asano. Cheno…"

She nodded along, her smile growing bit by bit with every correct answer as he went around the table. Good; he actually was listening despite his obvious interest in leaving. The voice in the corner of her head was appeased.

He was making steady progress until he came to a brown-haired woman, and then his mind went blank. "...Uhhh." She looked at him expectantly with one eyebrow raised. "Hold on... just give me a second." Crap. He could already see her kiss getting farther with each passing second of silence. "... I remember her. She's a veterinary assistant, she's going to school to be a technician, and she has a quiet personality."

Her tone was teasing. "You have a good memory, but that's still not a name."

He looked a little pained. "If I get all but one name, is there a runner-up prize?"

She laughed and ran her hand along on his. "Maaaybe."

Good enough for him.

He kept going, making it all the way around the table successfully until the last two people. "Uhh…" He gave the two teenagers a dismal look. "... They're your boss's kids."

She chuckled. "That's 18 out of 21. Dang! Pretty good! You've earned a solid 'B.'"

Not good enough, he thought, giving her a deadened look.

She smiled, lacing her fingers through his. "But I'll give you an 'A' for effort…" He held still as she leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

She pulled back leaving his skin sensitive to where her lips had been, and he looked at the impish smile on her face. This game was a tortuous one. "... Are you sure we can't leave now? Just for a minute?"

She hummed thoughtfully with his ears grabbing onto the sound, resting her chin in her free hand with a smirk. "What are you going to do with just a minute?"

Plenty of things he could do, his body impulsively suggested. He looked to the side for a moment, thinking about it further. There was one thing in particular he was missing. Maybe she was, too; he'd noticed how it made her eyes light up every day. He shuffled through some options in this new mental toolkit of his and hers. He looked back into her eyes and leaned forward halfway with a slow smile forming on his closed lips. He stopped there for a moment, watching her smirk spread at his proximity and her eyes give his lips the faintest of glances.

"I haven't had the chance to give you your morning kiss."

His low murmured voice disarmed her immediately, and he watched her coyness break with a quick laugh and her lips drawing back. She looked to the side and tucked in her smile with her lips, trying to think of something witty. Maybe it was him, maybe the warm buzz from the beer, maybe both, but even for just a minute excited her. After a silent pause, she looked back at him with her smile unrolling and dropped her hand from her chin to lift a finger and point at him delicately then drop it again, conceding.

"...Well, I do want that kiss."

His smile spread a little more, saying nothing and watching her.

"And a minute is probably long enough."

"Mmhm."

Her lips swished to the side as she looked at the group. "And it doesn't look like they're quite ready to start the next game."

"Mmhmmm."

God, that sound; he sent a shiver down her spine. She looked back at him determinedly, leaning in, their noses nearly touching. "I'm sure we could be back in time."

"So very logical of you," he murmured, his smile wider still. "I might just be convinced."

Her smiling lips pursed together and she squinted at his grin.

"...You're getting better at flirting."

His lips finally broke with a flash of victorious teeth and a single chuckle, and she was so done with him.

She shooed him with a wave of her hand. "Come on, get out of here! Let's go."

He didn't need her to tell him twice to get out of his seat. They pushed in their chairs and took care of their plates in record time. She set a quick pace for the entryway that he easily matched, eyes flicking repeatedly between her and ahead of him. They stopped only to swiftly change into their street shoes with him following her closely to the door.

She felt his hand find her waist as they exited the building. It pulled her closer to his side as they stepped away from the door, and she saw in her peripheral his face leaning in.

"Aizawa," she scolded him lightly when he kissed her cheek, pulling away with a chuckle in the back of her throat as his lips dropped to the skin below her ear. "Not out here, people can see us."

A problem he had a bold solution for with his chin lifting and eyes scanning the uneven style of the bowling alley's roof edge in a calculating manner.

No sooner had she pulled away when she saw his eyes flash red, and then metallic coils were looping around them both and pulling her securely to his torso. Her breath hitched as his muscles bunched, and her limbs scrambled around him tightly as their feet left the ground with a rapid ascent.

Just as suddenly, her feet were back on a solid surface, and she flicked a wide-eyed glance across the rooftop then up to his smirking red eyes as he stepped her down carefully from the roof ledge and unwrapped them from the binding cloth. It was easiest to pull her up after him; but this was the quickest way.

"Up here better?" he asked quietly, relaxing his arms around her to a softer grip as he blinked and lightly pressed her back, stepping them out of sight from the street.

He read her breathless look and leaned into her cheek as they moved back. "Or here…?"

His lips trailed down to her neck. "Maybe here?"

She tilted her chin up and to the side. He lingered there and she glanced behind them to the long tracts of square-sided ventilation pipes behind them.

He pulled away from her neck and she looked back at him. Their eyes met and he held her still, taking in the look in her eyes. His eyes only left hers to look at her smiling lips as he started to lean in, but she pressed her hand against his chest. He stopped and looked at her questioningly as she stepped back with her other hand dropping to her pocket. Her fingers curled in his shirt and tugged him to follow her as she looked down at her withdrawn phone for a moment then held it up with a smirk.

"You have one minute."

He saw the numbers on the screen and chuckled, watching her with every muscle going still in waiting. She grinned at the anticipating glint in his eyes and reached back setting the phone on the pipe behind her. For a moment she paused, hovering her finger over the screen and staring him down, then she tapped it and he pulled her in instantly.

He'd only missed her kiss for one morning but it could have been for so much longer than that. Every touch and teasing comment that evening he'd been unable to act on had only coiled the tension further. He breathed her in, his lips started kissing her soft and urgent, and his hands trailed all over her back. He wanted her touch, her taste, her smell, her sounds; he wanted her so badly like he'd never wanted anyone before. And he could tell that she wanted him, too, in the way she responded with her fingers running through his hair and all around his neck and shoulders, and the pressure of the hand at the back of his head demanding he deepened it until they were kissing like crazy.

Her phone alarm went off feeling startlingly too soon, vibrating on the metal pipe. The racket cut through their focus jarringly, and their lips pulled apart. They opened their eyes and looked at each other intensely and breathless. The phone kept buzzing but neither pulled away. Aizawa's eyes lowered to her lips as she smiled slowly, and she watched the intensity in his gaze soften and felt his arms around her back relax. He paused, breathed out, then leaned in again but this time for a final, tender morning kiss. He pulled away and examined her eyes, then reluctantly stepped back letting go of her body.

More, every fiber of his body objected, feeling her Quirk buzzing in his head, but he ignored it. He turned aside to catch his breath with a pleased smile. That was a very productive minute. He could be content with that brevity, for now, just like her rooftop kisses. Slowly. They had time for more, later.

She watched him step back with parted lips, feeling his heat leave her body. Not yet. The alarm on her phone was still going off, but she didn't look away from him. She felt for it with her hand based on the sound and pressed blindly for the silence button on the screen. It went quiet, but her heartbeat thudding in her ears didn't. She watched him turn to the side, the way he was breathing and looking so damn satisfied. And why shouldn't he?

It was one thing to yearn for a man who could metaphorically sweep her off her feet; another degree entirely to have one that did that and literally. He'd worked her up to a fever with her heart pumping through every limb in the previous minute and in the next breath that single soft kiss had left her weak in the knees. Did he even realize what he was doing to her? She thought not, or else he wouldn't have been so dutiful in pulling away as soon as her imposed minute was up. She'd done it to keep up their teasing fun and also be careful, mindful of her Quirk and him. The joke was on her now, though, as he did exactly as she said leaving her to stare at him wantingly.

Slowly, she heard the cautioning voice in her head. We should go back down, that's enough for now. But she suddenly didn't care very much about bowling. He can handle more, she argued with herself. He proved it. His hands covered every bit of her body that she'd allowed and not a centimeter more. She knew he was smelling and tasting her Quirk, but he listened. He listened so well. A natural romantic he was not, but observance was his talent. He did everything that she wanted. She closed her parted lips and swallowed, looking away from him for only a moment, then back at him with her mind made up.

He heard her walk up to him, though her hand on his chin turned his head to look at her. Her intent gaze surprised him, and she held his eyes hostage for a few seconds before she leaned in and kissed him softly.

Whatever compelled her sudden change of heart thoroughly blindsided him even as he accepted, his mouth focusing on the gradual pace she chose for this kiss as his arms encircled her back. It seemed rather foolish now that he'd thought of being content just a moment ago after only a minute with her. Perhaps that was her reason, too, he wondered, feeling in her kiss such purposeful movements that it left him needing air. He could only hope he was doing half as well, trying to reciprocate that sensation. Maybe he did do something right, hearing and feeling the air as she sighed through her nose. He inhaled deeply in time with her and tasted her, his mind going quiet with his senses fully absorbed in her.

Had he the mind to think, how could he possibly put her flavor into words? It was its own entity, entirely. Better than savory foods that made the mouth water; than sweet treats that the stomach always had more room for; than salty snacks that couldn't be put down; it was a subtle, delicate musk yet powerfully intoxicating; it stimulated something physical, involuntary, shutting down all higher reasoning; with her and no one else, it made him crave sex.

Had she the mind to worry, she would have stopped it before then. But she didn't. Absorbed in the moment with him, she held his face in her hands and forgot to. About how his breath was becoming uneven and quick; how his fingers were pressing deeper, needier, roaming down to her hips and then around and behind; how he pressed up against her so much that she kept stepping back to keep balanced. If she had stopped to worry, she would have paid attention to his edge.

Her backsteps bumped her legs against the ventilation pipe. She wasn't expecting it and bent backward, and he followed her down. The icy metal that met her back made her tense reflexively, snapping her mind to some alertness of his weight and heat against her front as he covered her body. She heard a hum in the back of his throat as he pressed in, kissing hungrily and pulling her hips to grind against his with one hand and the other smoothing up across her shirt to her breasts.

Her mind locked with a contradiction of excitement and uncertainty. Her body froze with it, not moving for or against his touch roaming across her chest then back down. But when his hand slid under her shirt, her hand moved reflexively. She caught him before he got any higher than her stomach and she opened her eyes, turning her head far to the side and pulling her lips away to speak.

"Aizawa, hey."

His lips dropped from the air to her neck with the same fervor. He needed more of her. She caught his chin in her hand, a gentle but firm pressure asking him to look up. He abandoned her neck and started for her lips again, but the hand on his chin stopped him. She looked at him calmly, studying his glassy-eyed look.

"Getting carried away."

He stared at her with his lips parted and chest rising heavily, seeming to have heard her without processing the words. It took a number of seconds more for his brain to catch up with his ears, and she watched his glazed eyes sharpen and his eyelids lift when it did. He blinked rapidly and evaluated how he had her pinned with his hand still under her shirt and recoiled at once.

She straightened up from the pipe listening to her heart thudding and felt the nippy air suck all of his body heat away, hollowing her stomach as it sunk to the floor. She bit her lip, watching him back off with a knitted brow. You pushed too fast, her mind hissed from its corner, spitting guilt. Wanted too much. Idiot! You messed it up. She shooed it away, concentrating on him as she stepped up beside him. He looked out at the sky with unfocused eyes as he breathed deeply and started coming down from the high. Tentatively, she raised her hand and touched his arm, his head turning sharply to her at the contact.

"You okay?"

He stared at the concern in her eyes and his body urged him to hold her again, keeping going, more—He quickly looked away out over the rooftops. He realized his lips were still parted, so he closed his jaw and swallowed. His head was still spinning when he found a quiet voice.

"... Sorry."

"It's fine," she assured him calmly. "My Quirk got to you."

His muscles relaxed somewhat at her unconcerned tone, though his furrowed brow didn't. "I didn't mean—I wasn't... trying to…"

Trying to what? He didn't even know what to say. How could he say he hadn't meant to when he knew she wanted to take things slowly, yet the feel of her skin seemed seared into his hand, skin he'd not asked to touch. His body was eager for a lot more than that from pressing against her without a single rational thought of hesitation. Not one thought at all. Inexcusable.

"I know," she soothed, setting her hand on his arm. "It's my fault. I should have gone slower, I'm sorry."

He looked back at her quickly, his brow tenser. "Why are you—it's not your fault that I… your Quirk's not an excuse."

"No, it isn't," she agreed, "But I know better. I expect this to happen, but I kept going and—"

She immediately knew she'd said something wrong from the sharp look he gave her, stepping towards her with a hand gesturing to his chest and cutting her off. "—What do you mean you expect me to do this?"

She tucked in her lips and flicked her eyes away at his harsh tone. "...That was a bit of a misspeak." She kept her eyes where they were to think of a rephrasing while he waited for her tensely. She calmly looked back at him and spoke deliberately. "I anticipate the possibility of this situation arising, because I expect that physical reaction to occur."

"Then why the hell would you keep going?" he retorted heatedly, his arms spreading and making her pull her hand away. His mind still didn't feel stable, reeling from the physical sensations, the smell, the taste of her. His mind, of all people. It was beyond startling to fall so readily to physical desire; alarming, unsettling, for him to be so— "That's completely irrational."

That word coming from him stung, and the calm projected in her eyes fell as her lips went tight for a moment. She glanced to the side and let out a long breath. She looked back at him. "Because I was enjoying it, Aizawa."

His mind went still for a moment. He hadn't thought of that, so focused on his own disarrayed internal state to wonder at hers. But he did start paying attention, then, taking note of the bitter edge in her voice and the sudden heaviness in her eyes looking back at his.

"I just… enjoyed it a bit too much, too soon. Broke my own advice, to take it slow." Her eyes dropped from his again, flipping her hand up to the side. "And my Quirk is just always there to… complicate things." She didn't move or look up at him again right away. His eyes softened and his breathing became a little more level, distracted from himself.

He started to lift his hand for her shoulder, wanting to do something, but he stopped and curled it back, not quite trusting it right now. She looked back at him before he could come up with something to say, the calmness from before returning.

"... But, that's not your fault. Look… We're both worked up right now. Let's just go back down, chill out, think about it while we're bowling, and we can talk about this again, after."

He looked at her and then to the side, thinking it over. A part of him impulsively wanted to say no and insist on figuring it all out right here on the spot. But the rest of him didn't think that was a good idea, feeling how disorganized his mind was. He nodded. That was a reasonable plan. Rational.

"... Okay."

She looked back at where he'd brought them up and headed over to the roof edge with him following a few steps behind. It occurred to him then that he would have to hold her on the way back down for the easiest, smoothest way, and he hesitated. Pausing on the roof ledge, she turned her head to look back at him. Taking notice of how he had stopped short of her, she figured the reason. She didn't hesitate to step towards him and look him in the eyes as she took him by the wrist, gently guiding him back with her to the ledge. He didn't look away from her eyes or move to touch her, but when she wrapped her arms around his stiff back and waited, he relaxed his muscles and looked away from her eyes to the ledge, gathering coils of cloth in one hand and with the other holding her back securely.

He got them down in a controlled smooth fashion then let go of her as soon as their feet were firmly on the ground. He rewound the binding cloth and looked towards the door, already stepping towards it without looking at her again. As soon as they were inside, he headed for the restroom without comment and she watched him go for a moment before slowly walking to the area with shoe cubbies.

She changed back into the bowling set absently staring at nothing, moving in slow motion. It felt too warm indoors, though really it was just her. She really had been enjoying it. You know what not to do and you did it anyway. Now he feels terrible. She pulled the velcro strap on the shoe tighter than necessary without meaning to and ripped it back off. Stop it! Just focus on what to tell him. Reassure him. She straightened and ran a hand across her forehead then crossed her arms, leaning against the wall and tilting her head back to study the ceiling. Explain it logically and reasonably. She stayed there for a while subduing her thoughts, then pulled away and headed back around the corner down the stretch of lanes to the group.

When she got close enough, she was surprised to see that most people were still at the tables. It seemed as though they'd been gone longer than that, though rationally she knew it must have only been a few minutes. She reached for her pocket to check the time, but her step faltered upon feeling it empty.

The roof, she realized, remembering with sudden clarity how she hadn't even spared her phone a glance when she turned off the alarm, leaving it there. Dammit! She would have to ask him to get that, later. What a moron, her brain scolded her. She looked at the clock on the wall instead, confirming that they really had only been gone for a startlingly brief amount of time.

A few were finishing up and starting back for the lane seating to play another round. Kasuya was getting up from one of the tables as Hayate approached and caught her eye with a smile.

"Ready for another game?"

"Yeah. Aizawa will play this time."

"Oh great!" She glanced back at Tadaki. "Can you get the game set up? I'm getting a refill."

"Sure," he handed her his cup and started heading to a lane.

Hayate glanced over at the soda and not the beer this time. "Good idea."

They walked over together to the drinks. Kasuya flicked a smirking glance her way as she set the cups down. "Where's Aizawa? I saw you two sneaking out of here."

Hayate's face didn't betray anything. "Bathroom. And we went outside. Crowds aren't really his thing."

"Hmmm. Cats sure are, though," Kasuya noted as she poured. "A bit of an odd fella. Seems fine past that."

Hayate smiled a little. "Yeah…"

He was better than just fine. He was a great guy. Don't screw this up. As they carried their cups to the bowling seating, she sent an anxious glance back towards the front of the building where the bathrooms were with no sign of him.

It was a struggle for him to walk away from her with every limb wanting to cling to her instead. His mind beat his body this time, though. Aizawa entered the restroom and caught sight of his own unsettled expression in the mirror. He stepped up to the counter and laid his palms flat, leaning on them heavily and looking back at himself harshly.

What the hell was wrong with his head? It was still swimming in every sensation of her. Logical thought was only slowly returning to him after… that. He had every intention of doing this right, going slowly like she wanted, being respectful of her boundaries, proceeding rationally and reasonably with every step. That all went without question.

Yet he hadn't given it a moment's thought when he'd pressed her back, touched her, slid his hand under her shirt. If he had, he would have made sure she was comfortable before any of it, without question. If she hadn't stopped him, what else would he have done? He could feel the answer physically through his whole body, a live wire, already on its way to being ready for a lot more than that. If she had let him, would he have stopped?

He'd never lusted after a woman like this before. Of course, he'd experienced sexual arousal; he was an adult male. Atypical, sure, in his general lack of interest; he addressed it as mundanely as one might clean their gutters. Lust should have been fleeting, as temporary as his appreciation for physical aesthetics. Not this full-body experience of desperately needing her.

It's because of her Quirk. The taste and the smell of it still lingered on his tongue and in his sinuses, imprinted freshly in his mind. That's what it did; lowering his inhibitions and increasing his motivation to act on them, shutting down his logical brain. It made him want her so intensely.

No. That's not an excuse. He refused to blame it, an involuntary part of who she was. That only left himself, mental teeth tearing his own insides apart. Her Quirk was a—major factor, yes. But she'd done her part and warned him it would hit him hard; he failed to treat it seriously. He failed to think.

How unsettling to do something like that. Weak. That behavior from him, it was unacceptable… unnatural.

Natural. He remembered her explanations of her Quirk. Where was the line between his natural feelings and her Quirk's influence on them? He thought about it. He knew what he had been attracted to about her before he kissed her for the first time. But after that moment, when he tasted her deeply? The euphoric surge her taste had sparked? He reflected on his behavior as of late, so bizarrely out of sorts. He'd accepted it without a single critical objection. Was that just her flavor, or was he genuinely turning into a romantic fool? Love. Limerence. Natural. Unnatural. He couldn't draw the line.

He defined himself by logic. He had been so cautious in beginning this relationship after careful consideration, confident in his rationality. To lose sight of that in a moment's passion was a disturbing weakness.

It made him worry.

If this is what her Quirk could do to him, what did it do to others? Just how dangerous was it for her? That thought bothered him most of all.

He needed answers.

He straightened and took a minute to collect himself, splashing some of the heat in his face and neck away with the cold water that started from the faucet and drying off roughly. Then he closed his eyes and focused on anything but that. His thoughts settled into nothing, and he opened his eyes and headed back for the door.

He got the bowling shoes back on and walked to the group. He searched them for a moment before picking out her purple hair down in the lane seating along with Kasuya and Tadaki. They had reshuffled a bit following dinner, picking a new lane adding Cheno and Watanabe while Murano stayed at the tables to chat. He didn't care about them, just watching her. She glanced up while he was still a ways off and caught sight of him.

Their eyes met, and that feeling he'd so methodically just suppressed came rushing back to him. Knock it the hell off. He obstinately denied it, no indication of it affecting him aside from his eyes that stayed locked on hers during his whole walk there.

When he stepped down onto the wooden floors, he tore his eyes away long enough to check the screen and see that he was going last right after Hayate. He didn't pay it any further mind as he settled into his seat beside her straight-backed and with his arms crossed, looking back over to her. Her eyes had been just as focused as his, and she offered a small smile. The staunch neutrality of his face broke briefly to give her a softened look, then he turned his head straight and didn't look at her again. She watched him for a while longer before doing the same.

Fortunately, Kasuya appeared to have gotten her curiosity of him out of her system in the last game. Unfortunately, with her focus on him abandoned, she only seemed to get chattier as she continued conversations from dinner with the new additions. Finding them to be a rather vocal combination, Aizawa just hunched down into his Capturing Weapon at the conversations passing by all around him.

His knee bounced impatiently when Hayate got up to bowl, and as soon as she was back, he was on his feet for his turn. His eyes zeroed in on the pins as soon as he had a ball in hand. For a moment, he seemed to have all the enthusiasm in the world for the game as he swiftly rolled it with a purposeful spin. He watched it long enough to see all the pins fall then walked back to the bench without fanfare. Rolling a strike was the fastest way to end his turn and thus the game.

He eased back into his seat with a bland look in his eyes to meet the slightly humored one Hayate gave him. Thought he said bowling wasn't his thing.

Kasuya noticed his strong start, too. "Dang, Aizawa-san! Are you a pro, too?"

He glanced her way. "I already said I was a Pro Hero."

"Not that! I mean a pro bowler! Like Murano."

Aizawa looked away disinterestedly. "No. Aim is just important in my work."

Tanaki snorted bemusedly. "How many bowling balls are you chucking at people?"

He ignored that comment, turning his head away indifferently to watch the lane next to them bowl. The little girl with orange hair from before with the juice was bowling; Miho, he recalled her name. She did several small practice rolls of the ball between her feet in a wide-legged stance with her mother standing behind her with hands mirroring hers in guiding motions. At first, he thought nothing of the quaint mother-daughter scene that served to distract him from other things, but something odd about the motion caught his observant eye.

Looking closely, he realized that it seemed as though their hands weren't actually touching the ball at all. The girl's hands hovered closely to the ball and the mother's hands over hers. The ball didn't stop with their hands but rolled slightly further, back and forward each time. He observed this peculiarity all the way through to their real roll, hands swinging out straight together with the ball making its way down the lane with painstaking slowness but straight as an arrow, knocking six pins down. The innocent joy of childish success the girl displayed was entertaining enough to stop him from scrutinizing it anymore beyond an intrigued huh. Their second roll followed much the same course knocking down one more. When they finished, he glanced over at Hayate having checked out of whatever she was talking about for a bit.

She was absorbed in conversation with the vet tech, Watanabe, about her daughter and Hayate's nephew and niece. It came to an end with her turn, though, and he watched her get up at first but pulled his eyes away when they started drifting down her body.

As soon as she was done, it was back to him. He met the pins with the same determined focus to be rid of them as quickly and efficiently as possible. It was a confident roll, but his brows twitched together in irritation at the lone pin that objected. He struck it down with a vengeance and resumed his seat beside Hayate.

Eying the group, he noted with increasing restlessness that everyone seemed a bit slower to get up and bowl this game; drunker, save for Kasuya, though she made up for it with more than enough conversation. His eyes flicked to Hayate, talking along with them. Was she feeling this same impatience to be done with it and talk that he was? If she was, she was miraculously good at hiding it, unlike himself. Perhaps it was to distract herself like he was unsuccessfully attempting. His finger started tapping on his crossed arms, so he got up and got a drink; soda this time, as any more beer seemed inadvisable. He nursed his own drink and fidgeted with the cup for something to do.

They went another two rounds with his impatience stewing the whole way when he felt the slightest of unnatural shifts in the loops of his Capturing Weapon at the back of his neck. Frowning, he craned his neck around to investigate with increasing irritation at what he could only figure was someone fiddling with it. His eyes landed on Miho and the frown shifted to faint surprise. Oh.

She saw he was looking and quickly sat back down in her seat on her knees, watching him with a smile that had been caught red-handed. His eyes softened. He looked away from her and forward again, casually undoing one end of the binding cloth and flicking it over the bench without comment.

He felt the faint movement of her continuing to play with it as he scrutinized the casual pace of each person in his group cycling back through their turns.

"Miho, don't do that."

He turned his head a little when he heard her mother's voice; Nakano, the red-head from before.

"It's fine," he paid her a reassuring glance then looked at her daughter. "A bit of harmless amusement."

That seemed to put Nakano at ease with a thankful smile.

Hayate heard and looked at them, eyes lingering on the Capturing Weapon bunched in Miho's hands then onto Aizawa still watching the girl with soft eyes. She melted at the sight with a smile, though he didn't look at her to see.

He did notice when Hayate pulled away from his side for another turn, and he watched her go. When she started heading back to her seat, he hesitated to get up, flicking his eyes back over the bench. Miho's hands were wrapped up in the end of his binding cloth that he'd loosened for her, still fiddling with it this way and that while the grownups talked and she waited for her turn to bowl. He studied her for a second before blinking his eyes. They flashed back open.

The little girl gasped as the cloth in her hands suddenly came to life, levitating in the air without her touching it. She looked up and watched wide-eyed as the whole cloth unfurled from around his neck. It folded itself neatly over the back of the bench, and then he blinked with the red leaving his eyes. His gaze flicked down to hers briefly with some of his tension easing at the face she was making, then he got up to bowl leaving the cloth in her hands. This didn't go unnoticed by the adults, either.

Kasuya was the first to blurt out an exclamation. "Oh! The scarf does things."

Tadaki looked curious, too. "Is that like, the 'gloves coming off', but it's a scarf?"

"Eh, it was getting kind of warm," Aizawa dismissed, grabbing a ball.

"Is that your Quirk, then? Controlling scarves, specifically?" Kasuya looked at Hayate humorously. "I can really see how that would catch your eye, Hayate."

Hayate looked back from smiling warmly at Miho with a roll of her eyes at Kasuya. "Actually, his Quirk is blocking other Quirks."

They both look floored by that, having not held much stock in his appearance previously. "That Quirk sounds great for a Pro."

"It's nothing special." Aizawa couldn't be bothered to explain the intricacies of using it effectively.

"Well, that sounds pretty darn special to me!"

He didn't offer any comment as he bowled, pretending to be absorbed in it. When he got back, Miho was peering over the bench at him with big eyes that tempered his impatience with a bit of amusement at finding the only worthwhile distraction so far. Hayate watched him silently with a grin as he twisted and bent an elbow over the back of the seat with a quiet focus aimed at the girl. He spoke to her.

"Do you have a Quirk?"

Her whole body sucked in a breath of excitement. She suddenly bounced up in her seat, hands thrown over her head. "Same Quirk!" Startled, Aizawa watched his Capturing Weapon gain a wobbly life of its own volition, rising over her head.

"Miho," Nakano scolded lightly, pointing her finger up at the levitating cloth. She pointed her finger down to the bench, and the cloth obeyed with an invisible tether. "Only when I say you can."

Miho's hands dropped back to her lap with a pout. "Sorry, Oka-san."

Nakano looked over at a rather taken aback Aizawa. Hayate, too, was listening and peering back over her shoulder. "Small object telekinesis. She got it from me."

It clicked for Aizawa. "Ah. You were bowling with that."

Nakano's eyes widened a little. "Oh. You noticed?"

"Uh… yeah." He glanced over at Miho again. "Just… was cute to watch." She giggled at the attention.

Nakano smiled like she knew something better. "It's a lot less cute when a temper tantrum makes it seem like there's a tornado in your living room." She looked back at her daughter. "So… we're practicing on that control."

"I see. That sounds rather unfortunate," he offered. "How long has she had her Quirk?"

"Just a few months."

Hayate looked at Miho with a smile. "What kinds of Quirks do your classmates have, Miho-chan?"

"Oh!" The girl bounced up on her knees. "Mori-chan can spit fireballs!"

"Wow! That sounds exciting."

"Suzuki-sensei says make sure she always covers her mouth when she sneezes 'cuz she catches her paper on fire!"

"Oh no!" Hayate looked aghast, and Miho giggled, pulling herself up by the back of the bench to stand on her knees closer to Hayate.

"But it's all okay cuz Ama-chan makes water—"

Hayate listened to her with an attentive smile, laughing, reacting with dramatic faces, and asking her lots of questions, some very silly. Aizawa listened, his impatience to leave temporarily abated by watching the two of them with a relaxed expression. She had a natural ease with small children that he had to admire for his own lack. Despite kind intentions, his stiff expressions and flat vocal tone just never could seem to stretch to match that light-hearted fun that they responded to. It was easier just to do things for them or solve their needs; problems he could handle.

Watching her made some of his unease dissipate. It wasn't just the Quirk-driven lust that made him drawn to her physically. She had worthwhile qualities that he respected, mannerisms, and humor that he found comfort in. His mind drifted back, watching her absently and thinking about all the time he'd known her, finding assurance in that. It's more than just her Quirk.

Despite him not speaking, Miho kept looking back at Aizawa's neck. Finally, her curiosity grew enough for her to point a finger.

"What are those for?"

He didn't notice her pointing until Hayate looked at him, too, and he blinked as she caught him staring. "Hm?" He glanced over at Miho's finger then glanced down at the yellow goggles exposed by the binding cloth's absence. "They hide my eyes. So people can't see where I'm looking."

"Oh." She kept looking at them like she didn't get it.

He pulled them up over his eyes and activated Erasure, turning his head and gaze in a demonstration. Her attention was briefly held by the cloth that lifted up again then she watched his goggles and the red glow flick in and out of view. He looked straight at her again and pulled the goggles up onto his forehead, letting her see his glowing eyes before he blinked. The childish fascination in her eyes made him smile softly. He pulled the goggles off his head and dangled them out to her wordlessly.

She took them eagerly and held them up in front of her face. They were too big for her as she brought them to her eyes, and Hayate snorted amusedly while Aizawa and Nakano's smiles widened. Miho looked around keeping them up to her face with her hands to either side of the eye pieces. If her grin was any indication, she was getting a kick out of it.

"Nakano-san, your turn."

She looked over at the bowling bracket. "Ah, thanks. Miho, it's our turn for bowling."

"Okaaay!" Miho lowered the goggles to the bench and scrambled to her feet.

"What do you say to Aizawa-san?"

"Thank you!"

"You're welcome." He watched her go.

Hayate had eyes only for him as Miho scampered off with her mom. "Looks like the Eraser Head fanclub has a new initiate."

He scoffed, eyes flicking away. "I don't have a fanclub."

"What do you mean you don't?" she retorted in a quiet voice just for him. "I've been your fan for a while now."

"One person isn't a club. Besides, there's nothing official." He looked down at the goggles and binding cloth.

"That could be arranged."

He decided to leave them there for when Miho got back and shifted his eyes to watch her bowl. "There's nothing to arrange. I don't care—"

"—care about being popular," she finished for him, twisting in her seat and hooking her arm over the back in a mirror of his posture, tilting her head just a little in front of his view with a smirk. "And yet you manage to be rather popular with children."

He looked at her for a moment, reading the playfulness in her eyes with uncertainty. They hadn't spoken a word since the rooftop; perhaps she was just trying to lighten the air between them now, feeling the same tension he was in anticipating their talk after. He thought about it and glanced back at Miho. Admittedly, he felt a little lighter after that interaction. He decided to try, looking back at Hayate and lowering his voice to match hers. "I wouldn't say that I am."

Her smirk widened. "Out of everyone here, it was the four-year-old you gravitated to. You're tough on the outside, but inside you're soft as mochi."

"Yes. My internal organs are soft and squishy just like they're supposed to be."

"Especially your heart."

"Hmm… Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't heart muscle sort of tough?"

Her smirk swished to the side a little. "A little… But that softness is important, too."

She shifted again a bit closer to him with one leg folding over the other towards him, and traded her smirk for a softer smile, looking into his eyes. "I can picture you with my niece and nephew. Haruna can be a little wild… a bit of firmness is sometimes what she needs. Kazuo is the opposite; he's rather shy and slow to come out of his shell. He responds to someone gentle."

She straightened her arm on the back of the bench, reaching it out just far enough to touch her knuckles to the back of his mirrored hand draping down. "There are a lot of reasons for me to enjoy my time with you."

He kept his eyes locked on hers, searching back and forth between them. He found sincerity and reassurance, her caring for him. It made him warm but in a different way than he'd been struggling with since the roof, starting in his definitely not-firm-now heart. Miho let out a little cheer of success with her mom, and he glanced at her and the pins to see she'd gotten eight pins on her first roll. He smiled a bit at that, then looked back at Hayate while turning his hand to loosely circle her fingers.

"... You're better with kids, though."

"What do you mean? She was having a blast playing with your gear."

"It's not like you. I've never had that knack for talking with them or making them laugh."

"It's not so hard to pick up. Ask lots of open-ended questions and exaggerate a bit."

"I'm not inclined to exaggerate." His eyes dropped to the side for a moment, then back into her eyes with his hand curling around hers a little more. "I'd rather be honest… there are enough reasons to like that exaggeration isn't necessary."

It wasn't just lust. He hoped she understood. It's not just your Quirk. Even though it was always there. Watching her eyes go soft and her smile deepen a little, it seemed like she did, maybe. She didn't say a word, but her hand squeezed his gently and her thumb stroked across his hand, and they just sat still looking at each other.

"Hayate! Enough lovey-dovey looks! You're up!"

Kasuya's teasing voice turned her head away from him. "Right."

Her fingers slipped out of hers with a final glance at him. He watched her go, sitting motionlessly. It wasn't until Miho bounced back up on the seat that he pulled his eyes away.

"I got them all!" She beamed at him.

He smiled. "That's great."

"We made the ball go faster this time!"

Miho wiggled on her knees, closer to her mom. "Oka-san, I wanna do'duh next one by my-self."

Nakano looked a little less certain of that. Her minor corrections might have done a thing or two to make sure they got those last pins for her joy. "Mmmm… Oka-san will think about it. Maybe the last round."

"I can do it! I get better at it." Her attention fixed on the goggles by her knees and she raised her arms up over her head, eyes following them as they rose. "See? I can."

"Miho…" Nakano's pointed finger guided the goggles back down to the bench.

Miho's arms dropped back to her lap with a pout. "Sorry, Oka-san."

He watched her with the same silent smile until Hayate returned from bowling. She smiled at Miho, too, taking note of her pout as she sat down.

"What are you up to in school, Miho-chan?"

She bunched up her hands in her lap. "Nothing…"

"Whaaaat?!" Hayate's high-pitched tone made her giggle. "That can't be right."

Nakano smiled at her daughter. "Yesterday you told me that you did something really fun in class. Do you remember that?"

"Oh. Yeahhh."

"Want to tell me about it?" Hayate asked.

"Yeah!"

Aizawa listened to them as he got up and walked to the ball return. He kept one ear on their conversation as he rolled. It offered sufficient distraction that he missed the strike, but he surprisingly wasn't very bothered. He settled back into his seat when he was done and continued watching them. They seemed to make time go by quicker.

Hayate did most of the talking with Miho, and sometimes Nakano while he was content with being silent. Miho picked up his goggles again and turned them all about. She tried to put them on for real, but the strap was much too long to keep them there. Taking them off again, she set them in her lap and picked at the strap unsuccessfully. Even then, Aizawa was silent as he reached down, offering his hand.

She held them up and he took them to pull the strap shorter. He reached over the bench to put them over her head to test it, and made a minor adjustment before pulling away. They stayed in place over her eyes and she looked all around with them happily. Little things like that brought him some quiet pleasure. It wasn't so bad for a game of bowling as they went through the rounds.

He ended the game with one final strike and sat down aiming a fixed look at Hayate. She noticed it and gave a reassuring smile. She looked over the bench to Miho then over to Nakano.

"We'll be heading out now."

She nodded. "We should be heading home, too. Before this one gets too tired." She looked over at her daughter slumped back in her seat with Aizawa's goggles on her forehead and part of his binding cloth in her hands, sleepily coiling and uncoiling it again.

"Miho, it's time to go."

"Mmmmm," she lifted up the cloth then dropped it beside her. "'Kay."

She started to scoot off of the seat. "Goggles, Miho."

"Oh! I forgot." She stopped and slid them up off her head, then twisted back around in her seat and on her knees to pass them over the seat.

"Thank you, Aizawa-san!"

"You're welcome." He took them back and started to reach for the cloth, too, but Miho suddenly scrambled back down.

"Oh! I do it."

She threw her hands back up, levitating the cloth up and over the bench in one big sweep. It landed with the grace of an unraveled ball of yarn on Aizawa's head and shoulders.

"Miho! What did I tell you?" Nakano's 'mom voice' was in full effect.

"Eh, this is fine," Aizawa said nonchalantly, glancing at the disarrayed loops with his eyes flashing. The cloth lifted in an orderly fashion and returned to its proper place around his neck. He looked over at the girl again with his eyes still glowing. "... Though, you should listen to your mother, you know." Then he blinked.

She snuck her face down below the seat until just her eyes showed with a giggle. "I knoooow." She sprang up and twisted away. "Bye, Aizawa-san! Bye Hayate-san!"

Nakano hurried to follow her before she could scamper off.

Hayate watched them go humorously, then flicked her eyes to Aizawa. "She's a little mischievous."

He watched Nakano put on Miho's coat as he readjusted the goggle strap. "Yeah. Cute."

"It's funny: I recall you saying you had to keep an eye on your gear, yet you entrusted it with a preschooler."

He snorted and looked at her, his lip lifting wryly as he returned the goggles around his neck. "What would she do with it? Even if she did try to run off, I'm sure her mother would catch her before I did."

Hayate chuckled. "I suppose that's true enough."

They both went quiet, watching each other's eyes. The smiles faded. She drew in a breath then looked away in the direction of the front door. They stood up in unison wordlessly and headed back for the entryway. Neither said anything as they returned the bowling shoes and got theirs back on. As they finished and walked closer to the door, she slowed her steps and looked over at him.

"Hey, um, before we go…" She paused and glanced away, and he studied her embarrassed expression before she looked back at him. "I forgot to grab my phone, back on the roof."

"Oh." He sort of remembered her setting on the pipe. "I'll get it."

"Thanks."

She followed him out the door, then stopped to watch him look up with a hand going to the cloth. He got up easily and looked at the pipe, spotting her phone. He started to step down from the ledge, but he stopped with his toe touching down on the roof. He turned his head and looked back down at her watching him. His eyes flicked back to the phone, then to her again. For a moment, he was still, then he turned back to the ledge.

Her eyes widened in surprise as cloth tendrils whipped down and snaked around her. They pulled her up into his arms and her hands met his chest. She studied his unreadable, focused look as the cloth rewound, then he blinked, let her go, and stepped away from the ledge. She followed a step behind him over to the pipe where he turned around and settled back against it beside her phone with his hands in his pockets. Picking it up, she tucked it into her pocket then turned to lean against it like him with her hands lacing in her lap, looking over at him in expectant silence.

For a while, he didn't respond, his eyes roaming across the dusky sky. Then he turned his head and met her eyes, speaking quietly.

"About earlier… I'm sorry for touching you like that. It wasn't my… intention. Not that that's an excuse, either."

Her eyes softened. "You already apologized. And like I said before, I'm sorry, too. We both could have stopped before it got that far. So, let's just say it was both of us and call it a learning experience about my Quirk and... what not to do with it."

He mulled that over in silence for a few moments, then nodded with his eyes returning to the sky. "I thought I'd be fine with it. About being able to handle it… I underestimated it. Or maybe, overestimated myself… some sort of miscalculation, in either event."

He looked at her directly. "I need to prevent that from happening again. There's more about your Quirk that you haven't told me. I want to know the details."

"How detailed?"

"As detailed as possible. I need to know."

"Alright..."

She looked forward and arranged her thoughts. When she was ready, she looked back at him with her tone taking on a clinical, professional quality.

"To explain it from a scientific perspective: my Quirk is stimulating your limbic system."

She gestured a hand to her lower abdomen. "My hormones determine the potency of my Pheromones Quirk." The hand shifted back to him. "My Pheromones then stimulate a surge in production of your hormones.

"These are collectively responsible for feelings of euphoria, attachment, and obsessive behaviors. They influence limbic functions like sexual arousal, addiction, processing social stimuli and, in response, generating innate behaviors such as mating, aggression, and defense. And this system is very good at undermining our higher order processes of logical thought.

You can physically feel that transition occur. That 'edge' I've talked about. That is the point where your brain is becoming overwhelmed by my Quirk and being induced into a more instinctual mode of behavior, analogous to the extreme behavioral effects of certain drugs. The higher the exposure to my Quirk, the stronger the impact.

Which is to say, that, what you feel when my Quirk affects you is… an involuntary, biochemical response, strongly influencing you to behave in an atypical manner. It does not excuse those actions taken, yes… but it does provide biological justification for why they happen even in the presence of good intentions."

She paused to take in a breath and flick between his eyes watching her attentively. Shifting closer to him, she placed her hand lightly on his back. The clinical tone fell out of her voice, replaced by a soft reassurance.

"It's not something you can easily outthink. Especially at first, when you aren't used to it, it's easy to get caught up in the moment by it. It doesn't say anything about you personally. If anything, it is a very natural response. What does matter is what you do in the next moment; when I say to stop or keep going and you listen... that is the most important part."

She concluded, and he stared at her steadily, processing all of her information, then lifted his gaze to drift across the last of the twilight visible in the distance. He considered the memory of how it had affected him before. Maybe it wasn't gasoline that sunrise had spilled; more like a chemical cocktail. He looked back at her.

"I get that you're a doctor… but how do you know all of this? I understand controlling your own Quirk; I know exactly how to use my eyes. But I don't know the thickness of my corneas."

She raised an eyebrow. "You could schedule a pachymetry test."

"A… what?"

"For measuring your corneas." She turned her smirking face straight ahead and returned the hand on his back to her lap, though her shoulder stayed close enough to brush his. "But, to answer the question." She settled back slightly, looking up at the night clouds.

"I wanted to know how it worked exactly, and find a way to make it easier to get along with. So my doctor and I did some tests done on my Quirk. It's not something you can just see; the glands are tiny and beneath the skin, so we took biopsies to examine them and did chemical tests. We also did MRI scans on the male brain under my Quirk's effect."

"Who volunteered for that?"

"Murano did."

He looked slightly surprised. "Your coworker? That wouldn't be a problem?"

"He's a very pleasant and gentlemanly person. We've also been working together for years, so he's accustomed to low levels of my Quirk. And, trust me, get three doctors in a room with a scientific conundrum of interest, and we'll discuss at length."

"If that's anything like the titles in your medical journals, I believe it." That earned him a chuckle from her. "So, what did you find?"

"Mmmm… If my Quirk had its own independent mechanism of some kind, there might have been some simple medical way to suppress it. But for various reasons, we concluded that there wasn't anything with more practical viability than just managing it with lifestyle and suppressing manually. So that's what I do."

The contemplative look on his face didn't change. "Is this what you're always thinking about then, when you're with someone? Paying attention to that edge?"

She tilted her head side-to-side a little, weighing the question. "At first… to a point, yes, because I know how strong it hits. But I definitely have other things on my mind, too."

She looked at him. "I'm thinking about enjoying myself, obviously." Her chin dipped a little with a flirty smirk. "I don't know if you've noticed, but I happen to find you attractive."

He gave her a deadpan look. "Hadn't a clue."

She laughed lightly, lifting her chin to its normal level and softening her eyes. "I had you on my mind for a while, you know. I'm… excited, eager… a little relieved, perhaps, to finally make due on those thoughts. I'm also thinking about this in the context of being your first experiences," she said kindly. "Even if we didn't work out for whatever reason, I'd like you to remember this fondly. Some people don't have that."

That earned a slight raising of his eyelids in surprise. He looked straight again. "That's… thanks." The surprise quickly returned to seriousness, and he looked back at her. "... Is one of those people you?"

He saw her face tense up a little and her eyes shift away. "... Well, it could have been better."

His eyes didn't leave her. "How so?"

"I mean… that was a long time ago. Things got a bit carried away." Her mouth twitched briefly into a grimace. "It was a very sloppy kiss."

Sloppy. He winced just a little, eyes sliding to the side making a mental note on that point. They returned shortly to her though, and the serious look on his face only grew more focused on her. "You've dated other men before. Is this how they've all responded to your Quirk?"

"Yes."

"How do you tell how much of their reaction is genuine?" Where did he draw the line between his natural reactions and her Quirk's amplification?

"That's… complicated. Sometimes I can, from their actions. Other times I can't."

It wasn't a satisfying answer. Too vague, avoiding the issue that bothered him most of all. He pressed further. "Then how do you know someone's not playing you for a fool? Just saying what you want to hear to get what they want?" Because if this is what it did to him, then they definitely did want.

She kept her eyes pinned to the side, lips drawn small. She answered quietly.

"... I don't."

"When they hit that edge and you tell them to stop, have they always?"

She looked back at him quickly, lifting a hand that emphasized her words.

"They don't matter. This is now. This you… and me. Not them. And you are doing just fine."

He met her eyes, his words coming quickly and catching her off-guard. "When you're on the train riding at odd hours wearing your scarves and hats and sleeves every day, it's because of someone, isn't it? Your Quirk can be a danger to you, is that right?"

Her eyes dropped to the side again, not answering him.

"I need to be aware," he continued, "I need to know what to expect so that I can respond accordingly."

His tone and his reasoning were logical like usual, but her lips didn't budge. For a moment, her eyes flicked back to him, then away again to search over the rooftop, then she let out a little breath and brought her eyes back to his.

"Yes, it can be, and... I'm not comfortable talking about it right now."

He read the finality in her eyes and tone, and his eyes at last pulled away from hers and to the side with his mouth in a small line and brows furrowed. Logically, it bothered him to yield on this. It made sense to be upfront about everything. But if she was going to refuse, he reluctantly had to respect that. "... Fine." But. He looked back at her insisting.

"Then what do you want me to do?"

She relaxed, her eyes and heart softening to hear him say that. Of course, he would say that. She turned to him and raised a hand to his chest, looking at him gratefully. "You are already doing exactly what I need you to do, which is listening. Whether we're learning something together or I ask you to stop. That is more important than whatever your natural response to my Quirk is. And that's all you need to worry about."

It didn't sound like a definitive course of action to him. Too reactive, waiting for the situation to arise. His eyes flicked between hers, brows still stiff. "So what's your job, then? Thinking about it?"

She thought for a moment with her eyes not leaving him, lips pursing slightly then relaxing. "For now... I'll say 'yes'. But it will get easier for you to think through my Quirk, given time." She looked to the side thoughtfully.

"Every consecutive day that we meet and you contact my Quirk, you get a little more used to it. Gradually, it'll take more of my Quirk to achieve the same intensity. Similarly, people get used to each other in an average relationship. That's when they notice the excitement wears off and the love fades. The short-term, starry-eyed kind, maybe. But that's also where the mature kind can grow."

She looked back at him and moved closer, standing in front of him and laying both her hands on his chest.

"I remember what you said when we started this. What you felt then… hold onto it, and just keep it in mind. It'll get easier to tell with time."

He read the calm reassurance in her gaze. He did remember that commitment he'd made sitting with her on that bench in the tiny park with a single tree. He'd been as honest and logical as he could with her, and her with him. People had no business getting involved in things they didn't intend to take seriously. He made his choice. That responsibility was his now; her comfort, her problems.

She said not to worry, but his mind still didn't settle. Just waiting and listening, not doing anything. His temperament was notoriously impatient. He wanted to solve problems as swiftly and rationally as possible, not allow them to fester with time. And his reaction to her Quirk, her reluctance to speak, were two forefronted problems.

His gaze still held hers with a pondering focus, and she waited with her eyes flicking between his, trying to imagine what he was thinking behind his unreadable expression and waiting for some sort of confirmation of understanding. Subtly, she'd shifted closer to him in her own focus, leaning into him without realizing it. He noticed it. Her closeness was enough to spur a restless feeling through him that he didn't trust.

But her scientific explanations were logical, tailor-made for him. She was definitely the experienced one here, teaching him what to expect. Her understanding at a time where his own mind was behaving incomprehensibly was something he was grateful for. It made him feel something deeper than the heady buzz of her Quirk. His mind wasn't settled by it, but he couldn't find a reasonable objection, either. He let his face relax.

"... Okay." A simple 'okay' was woefully insufficient, but it would have to do for now until he figured out what to do next.

She smiled softly. He didn't move as she tilted her head up and kissed him gently. His fingers uncurled then curled again staying buried in his pockets; the safest place to keep them. She pulled back and they opened their eyes, and he smiled a little to match her.

"Anything else you want to talk about?"

"No… I'm good."

She glanced over her shoulder then back at him. "Well, I suppose we should head down. It's a bit chilly up here without a sleeping bag."

"Right."

He followed her lead as she stepped back and turned, leading him by the hand. "Come to think of it, that's one thing you didn't bring." She shot a teasing glance at him. "Did you forget it again?"

"Didn't think I'd need it today."

"Hah! You, of all people, thought you wouldn't need one?" They stepped up to the roof ledge and she wrapped her arms around his back, looking up at him with a smirk. "Never know when the opportunity for cuddling may arise."

He considered that enlightening piece of information. "Hm…"

She just kept smiling as he wrapped an arm around her and then down they went. Landing smoothly, the binding cloth settled and he returned his hands in his pockets before she could take him by the hand. After looking down at his disappeared hand for a moment, she looped her arm through his elbow instead. Her smile found him again, but he kept his eyes straight and angled a bit down at the ground far ahead of them. She studied his profile for a moment before looking forward herself. Maybe, there was still something to be said in his eyes, but… for tonight, at least, she was alright with leaving it be.

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A/N: What's this? Another chapter? Surprise! I was working on three chapters together since I needed to make sure they worked as a whole before posting any of them individually, so there is one more after this coming soon.

-As you can probably tell, I'm taking on a more mature shift in themes and subjects with these last two chapters. I will put more notes on my process at the end of the next chapter which concludes this sort of mini-arc, but I've done my best attempt at presenting the issues that arise from Hayate's Quirk in what I truly hope is a realistic and good, non-toxic example of the issues.