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

19. Heart and Mind Entwine

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Heart and Mind Entwine

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Monday...

Morning found him with her in a dream once again.

Aizawa's alarm pulled him out of it before it could end, and he opened his eyes struck immediately with a sense of regret at having done so. He found his phone with an annoyed squint and turned off the sound. He didn't get up right away, though, turning the scowl with a glance down at himself. Troublesome is what these dreams were. That, and dissatisfactory.

And for that, it earned him getting up with an exhale to go about his morning ignoring its persistence. He didn't quite succeed in that effort, though, as it did get him thinking about her. Not of dreams in the night, but of troublesome thoughts from the weekend. He stared absently in the mirror brushing his teeth, drifting through ideas and solutions he'd come up with since then. Time to put them into action.

A pondering look followed him to the train station.

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"Good morning."

Hayate's arm slid behind his shoulders with a smile.

"Morning." Aizawa smiled back at her though less so, his focused eyes preoccupied. He looked her over before his head straightened, and he shifted his crossed arms beneath his sleeping bag.

"Sorry if it's a bit to the point… I have a request. It may sound odd."

She looked at him curiously. "Okay…?"

"Can you use your Quirk on me in the mornings?"

Her eyes widened. "Uh…"

"Not enough to hit that edge. Just more than it is now at its natural level." He looked at her thoughtfully. "Saturday, you stated that through repeated exposure it gets easier with your Quirk. So, by doing this every morning, I'll get used to it sooner."

She studied him for a few moments with a contemplative frown. She bit her lip, then let out a little breath. "Aizawa… I know that was… more of my Quirk than you were ready for, but forcing yourself to get conditioned to it faster isn't something you need to do. It doesn't have a deadline." She pulled her arm around him a little closer. "Just sitting close like this and taking it slowly on the weekends is enough. It will happen at an enjoyable and natural pace over time."

The focused look on his face didn't budge. "Maybe. But sitting back and waiting really isn't my style. Let me try to do something, at least."

She smiled gently and leaned in slightly. "I don't want you to be uncomfortable for my sake."

He studied her eyes for a moment then looked across the tracks silently. "... Then do you mind if I do it for mine?"

She thought about it, watching him with the faint smile traded for a furrow in her brow. Maybe that look she'd caught in his eyes walking home had lingered. She took in a breath and shifted closer. "It seems there's something you want to talk about."

Silence met her at first, his posture unmoving. His eyes shifted to her briefly, then away as he murmured. "You don't have to worry about me."

That didn't settle her furrowed brow. At her silence, he looked over at her again, reading the uncertainty in her eyes. She searched his, too. The determined, steady gaze she found finally made her brow soften.

"... Okay. We'll give it a try. But when you need a break, tell me."

He nodded. "I will." It seemed to satisfy her.

She lifted her hand from his shoulder slightly and purple particles started misting out of her skin. He smelled it as he breathed and turned his head towards her hand. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply with his brow concentrated. She watched him, gauging his reaction. He didn't move for a long while, just wordlessly breathing her in.

He tried to visualize what was going on inside his own head as her Quirk's signals passed along his neurons with that familiar, pleasant tingle. It was someplace buried deep in his brain. In trying to think about it, he immediately realized how hard a task that actually was as it tried to push his thoughts out and focus on her instead.

He resisted it, counting out controlled breaths as minutes crept by in silence. He imagined the MRI images she mentioned lighting up as the electric rush started to build into that wonderful exhilaration. Signals shivered down his spine preparing his skin, and he curled his fingers with fingertips hyper-sensitive to every stitch of fabric in his sleeves. It didn't speak with words, but he knew clearly what it would say. More.

She pulled her hand back with the Pheromones ceasing. "The train's coming."

He opened his eyes and turned his head down the tracks, confirming with her. "... Right."

He got up rather suddenly and gathered his sleeping bag. He felt the urge to look at her, but he knew that would only lead to an impulse for more. So he didn't spare her a glance, even walking fast to be at the platform ahead of her so that he wouldn't have to avoid staring at her back.

She watched him closely and followed him with a concerned expression. When they stopped at the platform, she reached out and touched his shoulder.

"You okay?"

"Yeah." He didn't turn his head. "Just… give me a minute."

She pulled her hand back to her side. They got on the train and she sat down beside him as he tucked into his sleeping bag. He crossed his arms and still didn't look at her, tensely staring ahead with his eyes pinned on the seats across from them. Though she took out her tablet to read, some of her attention stayed on him peripherally.

Eventually, she looked up as he shifted closer to her and leaned over resting his head on her shoulder. He didn't say anything, just closing his eyes to nap. It reassured her a little, and she looked back at her device for the rest of the ride.

He didn't quite fall asleep, though. Restless energy had been stirred up by her Quirk. Breathing her natural scent even so casually against her shoulder unsettled him with nagging interest.

When his stop came, he got up, watching her watching him as he folded up the sleeping bag over his arm. He paused for a moment when he finished, looking at her lips. The anticipation he felt made him hesitate instead of lean in for a farewell kiss.

"... Have a good day." He walked away with his hands in his pockets.

"You too…" She watched him go with a frown. When he was out of sight, she leaned her head back with a heavy exhale. Got some thinking to do…

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The rest of the day proved difficult. Thoughts of her persisted, creeping in to distract him in every task. He was acutely aware of the daydreams his mind wandered into and more critical of them than he'd been before that night bowling. He scolded himself to focus every time he caught himself staring at his phone pining for the notification light of her messages.

In moments of downtime his mind pulled him away; most of all when he closed his eyes. The dark canvas of his eyelids was perfect for imagining her. Night was thus his weakest hour with sleep allowing his subconscious free reign with all the desire he'd suppressed.

He woke up annoyed at himself again. He scowled at the ceiling. It was still a wonderful feeling to think of her and be near her, no doubt: pleasurable, light, exhilarating, intoxicating. But knowledge and caution tempered it. Some of it was natural. The rest was an artificial biochemical reaction that could easily get out of hand. It was a dishonesty created by his own body that he couldn't judge honestly and logically.

At the train station, he settled into his sleeping bag and waited for her with his eyes pinned straight ahead.

"Good morning." She settled into her seat beside him.

"Morning." He smiled at her briefly then looked down at her hand. She had them settled in her lap, and he watched her fingers lace.

"So, um…" At her hesitant tone, he looked up. She had her gaze aimed across the tracks. "I'm not sure about using my Quirk right now. I'm going to be ovulating at the end of this week, so it's going to get a lot stronger. Next week, we could start it again."

He considered that information for a moment. "It's fine. Go ahead."

She looked at him quickly, trying to read his level expression. "... It's going to be stressful for you, and I don't want that."

He studied her troubled look. "It's alright. I'm fine with it." Her expression didn't lessen. "Being able to handle your Quirk at its strongest means any other circumstances are tolerable."

She sighed. "It... means you're going to be hitting your limit quicker, and it'll have you worked up for the whole day. And it's going to build up and get worse every day this week."

"There's no need to put it off. In the long run, I'd have to get used to being around that, anyway."

"Yes… but by then, it would be after having gotten used to it gradually for a while. It will be a lot easier to handle then."

His mouth shifted a little to one side. "... Just how 'gradually' is this process supposed to take?"

"It varies a little, person-to-person… but, months."

Months? Of this obsession and uncertainty?

She read his reaction. "It takes just as long or longer for people to go through that initial 'honeymoon stage'. This is just… another thing that goes alongside it that we address on the way."

He looked straight ahead, brow firming. "Then use your Quirk this week. Anything to make it go by quicker."

Her lips pursed and she exhaled through her nose. "Look… I'm not entirely opposed to using it, but I need to know something from you, first." She turned to him more, looking him in the eyes until he turned his head to meet her.

"Correct me if I'm wrong… I think this weekend kind of spooked you." She watched his eyelids lift. "Losing control over yourself is something that you don't want to have happen again."

He looked at her unreadably then glanced away. "... I suppose."

"I get the sense that you want to deal with this first before going any further," she continued, pausing again for him.

"... Do you expect something different?"

"Maybe not 'expect' but… I think maybe you're getting up inside your head again, treating it like a linear process: first, we solve my Quirk, and then we move on… My Quirk isn't a problem that needs your solving."

"Right." It was just a natural part of who she was. And that was why— "But my reaction to it is."

"That—isn't a problem, either. It's just normal. Natural."

His fingers twitched tighter on his crossed arms. "It shouldn't be something you expect."

A flash of cynicism crossed her face, her brow rearing up with a wry twist of her lip. Her eyes flicked away, voice dropping suddenly. "Yeah, well… evidence speaks for itself. So…" A heavy pause passed with her lips scrunching to the side. "This isn't going where I wanted it… Look, I've been through this process with guys before you, and, this weekend, I messed up. I could have done better at not letting it get so far, so to correct that going forward…" She looked back at him with a steady gaze.

"If I'm going to use my Quirk in the mornings, then we are going to keep talking through it, not be silent. We still have plenty of morning questions to ask each other every day, so if it's affecting you so much that we can't maintain a conversation, I'm going to stop using my Quirk. Alright?"

He studied her for a long time, thinking it over. "Alright. That sounds fine."

Her shoulders and face relaxed. "Alright... Good."

She looked at his shoulder and unfolded her hands. She lifted her arm over the back of the bench and draped her hand over his shoulder. He looked down at it, watching her Quirk activate. He breathed in and his chin dipped without thinking as it hit him with a suddenness that seemed increased even from just yesterday, drawing him closer to her hand and the particles dusting his brain. His eyelids started to drop, focusing like before.

She let him take several breaths, then her hand lifted from his shoulder and touched his chin. He opened his eyes fully again as her hand prodded his chin back up to look at her. "Now then… maybe a more light-hearted question would be appropriate." She settled the hand back on his shoulder and watched him expectantly.

He blinked. "You want me to ask?"

"I think I've asked my fair share of questions this morning."

"Mm… alright." Plenty of questions he could ask, his mind offered eagerly. The first ones that sparked he quickly shot down. "Uh… let's see…" His eyes drifted away from her as he filtered his thoughts. "Hmm…" The creative circuits of his mind were firing, but beyond suppressing a number of rogue topics, he drew a blank. At his nonresponse and distant stare, her hand rose to tap his chin.

"You're not doing a lot of talking."

He looked back at her quickly. "I'm… thinking. It's just… I'm not that good at coming up with ridiculous questions."

"I'd say a fun question."

"Well… that doesn't come easily, either."

"Do you need a theme?"

"Might be helpful."

She searched the air. "How about… something you do at home, maybe? Like an activity, hobby, a habit…?"

"Okay… do you… hmm…" Something you did at home; well, sleep, in his case, came to mind first. But usually people did that in a bed, of which sleeping wasn't the only activity that—Put a lid on it. He cut off that line of thought before her Quirk could run wild with it in his brain. Just stick to sleeping. Anything fun about sleeping? Dreams; lots of fun dreams—Nope, pick a different route. A tangent neuron sparked, and he grasped onto the innocent thought. He looked back at her. "Do you have… pajamas?"

"Pajamas?" She looked at him with a confused smile. "Yes…? I have pajamas."

"Fun pajamas?"

She gave him a look and a raised eyebrow. Lingerie…? "What kind of fun are we talking about?"

He realized suddenly how suggestive the question could be interpreted, and looked away stammering quickly. "Oh, uh—I just, remembered the pajamas—the Ganriki Neko ones, you mentioned before, back on our date—remember?" He cleared his throat and turned his head to the side. Cat pajamas didn't seem so innocent a thought now. He paused for a moment, taking in a breath and more of her Quirk, and it pulled his eyes sidelong to her. "But, uh… whatever kind of fun you want, I suppose."

Her lips spread as she laughed and looked at the particles coming from her hand, brows bunched skeptically. "I think this is getting to you faster than I thought it would."

"I'm… still talking though," he pointed out casually.

"You're right..." She studied him for a second, then wiped away her skepticism with a smirk. "Pajamas, huh? Yeah. I got fun pajamas."

He matched her smirk. "So, uh… what kind of fun are we talking about?"

"Hmmm… I'd say a bit of both." She cocked her head a little, looking him in the eyes. "Maybe I'll let you be the judge of that…"

He tried not to act too interested as she gave him some new material for his daydreams. On the train behind closed eyelids, his rogue mind could pretend her shoulder beneath his cheek was clothed in his imaginings. He tried to protest it, to just settle down, but the longer her presence persisted, the more every logical faculty of his brain seemed anesthetized. Reluctantly, he peeled himself away when his stop came. It wasn't a long enough train ride. Again, he hesitated to kiss her goodbye, but he made an earnest effort to meet her eyes and smile this time before leaving.

As soon as she was behind him, he let out a long breath and took the walk to U.A. as an opportunity to shake it all off. Today had definitely been harder. Today was only Tuesday. Just how much worse was this supposed to get? He braced himself for the rest of the week.

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Friday morning...

In order to make up for not spending every breathing moment with her, his mind decided without his approval to spend more hours with her when asleep than awake.

In typical dream fashion, their time spent together started with something incomprehensibly random that tumbled into flirting and flashes of skin; then getting randomly side-tracked, then more skin; then another bizarre detour, then together again with increasing urgency; yet again getting side-tracked with decreasing clothes along the way until finally; no distractions, no clothes, just her and him, alone at last as he stepped towards her and—

He opened his eyes to rapidly vanishing excitement and a replacement of regret and dissatisfaction.

The alarm hadn't even gone off; a fumbling tap in the general direction of his phone lit up the time on the screen. He squinted at it distastefully. Seriously? Nearly two hours to go, he berated his subconscious. If his brain was going to concoct these ridiculous dreams with such annoying frequency, the least it could do was let them finish.

He silently seethed and glared at the ceiling. The oddity of them occurring at all aside, the frequency was starting to get tedious. He tried not to think about her in that way; truly he tried. But the compulsion had a mind of its own, sneaking in the second he let his guard down. And at night, all his daylight effort was in vain as his subconscious delighted in concocting fantasies. It was obsessive. She'd warned him, and hell had she been right.

Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and now finally Friday. Every day was crawling by; except for any time spent with her, which seemed to have its own wings to fly by on. The first instant he smelled her every morning he could tell the difference between days, how intense it was getting. Breathing it on purpose was nothing like a casual whiff sitting across from a table. It overwhelmed him. And that was terribly unsettling.

"How are you doing?" She checked in with him every day when she sat down.

"I'm managing," he mumbled in some variation. It seemed highly inadvisable to relate to her the details going through his mind right now. "Anyway..." He looked at her with a smile. "Question of the day." Finding it difficult to come up with anything on the spot with her scent, he adjusted to preplanning a question before he got there.

Logically, he tried to manage it, testing strategies. 'Not thinking' was a terrible strategy, as it inherently required acknowledging the thing not being thought about. Distraction by way of fervently throwing himself into his work and then devouring voluntary educational material afterwards proved relatively successful. Verbal communication was even more effective, though his rather pronounced irritability this week didn't seem to be going off very well in discussions among the other teachers.

Hey man, you okay?

He glanced at Yamada's text and typed back.

I'm fine.

Okay… Just seem cranky all of a sudden.

Cranky. Sounded like a word for describing a child, or an old man. That irritated him a little, which he supposed only proved Yamada's point.

Not sleeping well. Don't worry about it.

Man, you always sleep like a rock. Something up with you and her?

We're doing fine. Thanks for your concern.

Come to think of it, if there was a silver-lining to her Quirk driving him insane, it was that they were chatting quite a lot, he mused. Talking with her was heavenly in and of itself, but it also was a distraction from anything physical. As long as he kept busy doing something, anything, it was okay. After school was the real challenge. A free schedule was a dangerous thing for a wandering mind, and he was his own boss after dark. The solution: to be a really shitty boss.

Normally, he just let the work come to him, rotating through a selection of troubled neighborhoods and napping until he got a call; an opportunistic strategy that played in his favor by keeping his fights in familiar territory. This week, however, he went on the prowl.

"You again, Eraser Head?"

"Hm?" He glanced up stiffly from the villain wrapped up and sitting by his feet.

"Been seeing your name in reports all over the place," the police officer smiled amicably.

"Yeah." He looked away disinterestedly.

"Going to be a nice paycheck this month."

"Mmhm."

"Saving up for something?"

"Not really." He scuffed his boot impatiently. "Just in a fightin' mood… Are you ready for this guy here or what?"

"Uh... right. All business with you, of course."

Seeking out every call coming far and wide really wasn't his style; legging it all over the place proved a hassle. Right now, however, he welcomed the opportunity to avoid his sleeping bag. Fighting in unfamiliar locations mixed things up, too, keeping him mentally alert. Plus, just responding to more calls every night meant more fights to focus his energy on. Plenty of distractions.

By the time he trudged home, he thought of doing little else in his exhausted state beyond dragging his feet to the shower to quickly rinse the grime away before all but collapsing face-first onto his sleeping bag. He'd curl up and finally allow himself to close his eyes, satisfied that he'd repelled all thoughts of her well-enough.

And yet.

Yet.

The dreams still came to him. They laughed in the face of all his careful, logical solutions. They reveled in proving to him that nature definitely won against all higher thought processes and his best efforts. His natural attraction and her Quirk's artificial temptation—wherever the line between them, it proved irrelevant as both contributed to undermining his efforts every single night beyond his control.

Which brought him back to his current predicament, squinting at the ceiling with his body rebelling once again. With hours yet to go before he had to get up, he had time to imagine the end to this one. He did so with a weariness of reluctant acceptance, hoping that short-term solutions might finally give him some relief. Stubbornly ignoring it in previous mornings had evidently amounted to a failed attempt at dissuading her Quirk's persuasions.

When time finally did crawl by sufficiently that his alarm went off, the thought of meeting her soon was less pleasure and more trepidation. He sat down at the train station with his arms crossed, hands firmly locked in place until she arrived.

"Good morning."

She sat beside him, but he didn't look her way. It was her scent that got his attention first. His jaw tightened a little, and he shifted a controlled glance her way.

"... Morning."

She picked up on the tension in his face immediately. "... How are you feeling today?"

He didn't respond right away, the look in his eyes speaking for him as he kept them locked on hers and barred from wandering down her body. Tight lips did eventually part.

"... Wanting."

Wanting her lips, her skin, her whole body. Wanting every one of her laughs, her looks, her every moment of time. Wanting all of her. He forced his eyes forward, holding his breath for a minute. Get out of my head.

He felt her shift and settle her arm on his shoulder.

"Today is likely the worst day you'll feel."

Not exactly a relieving statement, but at least there was an end in sight to this self-imposed trial of morning masochism. He gave a tiny tod. "Your turn for a question."

He felt her fingers spread on his shoulder. He didn't look down at it, but he saw the purple fumes start to rise. He let out the breath he'd been holding and took another in deeply. He clenched his jaw, fingers tightening in his sleeves. Hell, he wanted her.

"What are you feeling right now?"

It took him a second to process the words she'd said, then his lip twitched back wryly.

"... There's a lot I could say to that."

"I'm listening."

He said nothing. After a while, he looked over though kept his head straight. When he laid eyes on her, a visceral jolt ran down his spine. He shifted his mouth and still didn't speak. Today was definitely the worst so far. Every nerve felt it. He wanted her right now. He looked straight ahead again, still unresponsive.

At that, her lips pursed slightly with a soft, sympathetic gaze. Her fingers curled and she stopped her Quirk.

"We've talked all week, but you're quiet about that particular subject."

"... I doubt you really want to hear it."

"Let's start with your dreams." His eyes reflected his surprise. She didn't bat an eye. "I'm not that ignorant, Aizawa. I know, it's like having a freaking succubus running around in your head all night."

"... And you really want to know what it's doing?"

"You don't have to tell me every detail. Just enough for me to know what's going on in here." She lifted her hand from his shoulder to set it on the back of his head. "You're trying to condense about a month of conditioning into the span of a week; the hardest week to do this, no less. Honestly, you're going to need a break from it at some point. And I need to know when."

He thought about it. That all sounded very logical to him. He didn't care. He turned his head towards her. His eyes locked with hers, and she felt the intensity and hunger in them. His crossed arms unfurled.

"You want to know about these dreams I'm having..?" He finally spoke in a low, sardonic tone. He leaned closer and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. He pulled her flush against his side with his fingers curling around her arm and his eyes not leaving hers.

"They're driving me crazy..."

He held his gaze on hers as he lowered his face to her shoulder, breathing in deeply then murmuring against her shirt and moving up towards her neck as he talked.

"All day, I can find ways to keep you out of my mind. Yet every night, they just take over. But the worst part about them is that I always wake up before they can end…"

His lips stopped by her ear. He eyed the spot right at the back of her jaw for a moment then pressed his lips to her skin and started to trail them down towards her scarf.

"Aizawa…" Her tone was light, but firm. "Now's not the place."

He stilled, then slowly he pulled back and looked at her eyes again. She looked calm and steady, unsurprised by him at all. He shifted his mouth with his lips tightening, then he looked forward again and pulled away. His arms crossed again and he stared at nothing across the tracks.

"... I need a break this weekend. We shouldn't meet. Sorry."

"That's alright. Thank you for telling me."

She sounded so untroubled that he glanced at her just to make sure he heard that right. He found her eyes to be sincere.

"We'll give it more time."

That made him feel worse somehow; that she could be so non-judgemental, so used to this kind of behavior. He pinned his eyes straight ahead again and gave her a silent nod.

She didn't press him for any more conversation. When the train came, he sat down with his arms crossed and didn't transition to leaning against her for the whole ride. It gnawed at him, though. He wouldn't see her again for two days; three nights.

His stop came and he looked over at her, thinking. She smiled a little. It made him bolder. He stood up, gathered his sleeping bag, and took a step away from her before stopping. His free hand dragged across his face and he turned back against his better judgment.

"Hey."

She looked up as he stooped down, and his lips met hers. But to her surprise, she didn't receive the soft parting kiss that she expected. His mouth felt harder, pressing with want and shifting quickly as his free hand went to the back of her head instead of just a brief contact. Though longer than their usual kiss, he ended his passionate goodbye by abruptly letting her go. She stared up at him as he straightened with his eyes locked on her, then he turned away sharply. It wasn't enough, but it was going to have to be enough for the whole weekend.

"Have a good day."

"Y-You too... See you Monday."

She looked around quickly, but there weren't any commuters close enough to have noticed; thank goodness it was so early in the morning. In relief she took a moment to enjoy the sensation of her lips, then she settled in her seat and watched his back go with eyes troubled, tucking in her lips and folding her arms.

It was going to be a long weekend.

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Saturday...

Aizawa: Let's get a drink after work.

Yamada: Sure thing, man!

"Pff-ffft—hahahahah!"

Aizawa lifted his eyes from his beer to aim a squinty-eyed look at the man squawking across the table.

"Care to enlighten me on what's so funny?"

Yamada wiped his eye and stretched out in the bar seat as he caught his breath.

"You are, man! Are you even listening to yourself right now? You sound all out of whack!"

Aizawa's brows furrowed deeper and his lips scrunched to the side while Yamada regained his composure. He leaned forward bearing an enthused grin and tinted cheeks, waving his hand about as he talked.

"You've always been the first one to write off romance as illogical nonsense! Never even bothered to care when I've brought it up, and now look at you: spilling your heart out all over the table." His hand swept across the table dangerously close to the top of his drink. "It just figures you'd be the guy who'd trip head over heels and face plant right into it." He pointed across the table dramatically. "That's freaking hilarious!" He reached for his beer and settled back with a chuckle. "I can't wait to meet this gal. Gosh, she's gotta be something else."

Aizawa ignored that last part, scowling at him as he finally shut up for a moment to take a sip. "... So glad I can entertain you." His eyes dropped to his own beer again. "So are you going to help me or not?"

"With what?"

"With what I just said," Aizawa gritted his teeth. "What do you do about it?"

Yamada snorted, clearly bemused. "Come on, man. We've both outgrown sex ed."

Aizawa glowered. "Yamada…"

"What are you asking, man?" Yamada chuckled, setting his glass back down. "Take care of it yourself or bottle it up and go wild with her, take your pick."

"Seriously? That's all you have?"

"Well, I mean… that's what you do with it."

"That's not a solution."

Yamada laughed, spreading his hands. "What are you on about? Just enjoy it! Is this a technique question?"

Aizawa was quiet for a moment. "... Her Quirk is a big part in all of this."

"Quirk?" Yamada raised a curious brow. "You never mentioned that."

Sarcasm dripped into his voice. "I figured I'd start out more general, as helpful as you were there...It's a scent-based Quirk. Pheromones."

Yamada snorted, and Aizawa looked up at him sharply in time to watch him break with a laugh, spreading his arms up wide. "Of all the women! Of course, it took one with literal love perfume to grab your attention!"

"It's not funny," Aizawa growled. "Get one whiff of it and you'll know."

"Mmmmm, thanks, but I'd rather not sniff your girlfriend."

"If you're in the same room as her, it might not be optional."

"Seriously? Her Quirk's that strong?"

"Sometimes... yes."

"Hmmm…" Yamada finally seemed to take on a more serious note for a bit, his smile sliding off his face as he thought with a hand to his chin. "I dunno, man… That doesn't seem like my kind of question. Kayama's the one in the know on that sort of Quirk." He looked at Aizawa knowingly. "But I'll bet you aren't gonna tell her about your updated relationship status."

"Well, sure, I'll enlighten her eventually... but I'd rather not deal with her antics right now."

"So why not just ask Hayate? I mean—it's her Quirk."

"We've already talked plenty." His eyes dropped to the side. "... She was rather hesitant about trying this at all. I get why, but… I need to try something."

"I dunno," Yamada shrugged and lifted a hand. "I mean, your gal's advising not to do something and you're doing it anyway. That can get you in trouble, you know."

He thought about it. It already had gotten too far, once. And that was once too many.

"... It's just something that I need to do." He let out a loud breath. "But, since it looks like you can't help me—thanks for nothing." He knocked back his full glass and set it down loudly when he finished.

Yamada frowned. "Hey, now, that's kind of mean. I would, sure, but I honestly don't know, man."

"Don't worry about it," he intoned. "I'll figure it out."

And that was a very laughable joke he told himself.

He couldn't say if the headache he woke up with was from a hangover or the exasperation of dealing with it all again. It set the tone for the rest of his Sunday as he headed out, sans sleeping bag, stalking to the train station where she wouldn't be today. There were a few troubled, inner-city neighborhoods to occupy his frustrations with.

He hunted down every skittish robber that invited him to give chase and welcomed every lowlife miscreant that thought they even had half a chance of fighting him and winning. Normally, he wouldn't exactly describe himself as gentle in a fight, but he didn't aim to do any more harm than necessary, either. There were more bruises than necessary today.

For lunch, he held a protein bar between his teeth while his hands were occupied with his phone, already on the go to the next call.

Nightfall found him fatigued, grungy from sweat and grime, and with a temper fouler than ever. But he didn't head home. Not yet. He still didn't feel tired enough. If he could just get one dreamless night, he'd be satisfied.

He wore himself ragged fighting like this all weekend, losing rest in the absence of his sleeping bag, not hungry enough to remember meals, hours blending together, overdoing it on purpose to exhaust his brain. He was good at what he did; expertise in capture and combat carried him for a while. But it was only a matter of time until something gave and he slipped up.

He got the call for a store robbery. It was close by; perfect. He leapt along rooftops on his way to the scene, listening to the dispatch details with one ear. By luck or by chance, he stopped abruptly when his eyes caught sight of someone running full speed down the street. He perched on the roof edge and sized him up.

Big guy. Mutant Quirk with four arms. Red skin, fur-lined vest, baggy black jeans. Dead ringer for the dispatch description. He didn't hesitate to drop down in front of him.

"Hey there." The man scrambled to a stop as Aizawa took a cautious stance. "Pro Hero Eraser Head. Got some questions for you."

It was a courtesy statement; an extended olive branch for a peaceful resolution. Aizawa watched the flurry of emotions running across his face. He was a repeat offender. They both knew that with his record, he'd be facing down criminal charges of ten years for this. At least if he came quietly, he'd be at a good starting point legally. All four hands went into the four pockets of his vest, and out came brass knuckles. Fuck it; he was screwed, anyway. Aizawa's hands went to his Capturing Weapon as the man sprinted at him with all four arms raised. That was the wrong answer, but desperate people took desperate measures.

It was a bad matchup. Erasure couldn't help him. Logically, he should have gone around for his flank, outside his reach. But Aizawa had been pushing his luck all day, relying on superior aggression to skirt rational corners and win. He went low on the inside to take a shot at knocking his feet out from under him, but the speed he was counting on getting him there didn't come from his own fatigued legs.

One fist connected with the right side of his ribcage with a crunch and another with his shoulder. His breath was knocked out of him in a grunt, and he heard his shoulder pop followed by sharp pain. The force threw him back gritting his teeth as he rolled with the landing. He stopped in a crouch on all threes, right arm limp and useless. He got up running low to the ground with his left arm grabbing a coil of cloth without pause, eyes flashing a vengeful red.

The criminal tangled with the coils that shot forward to mummify him, distracting him enough not to notice Aizawa darting to the side and sending out a purposeful snare from behind. The noose slipped around his neck and he went rigged as it tightened sharply under his chin. Big muscles didn't do any good if you couldn't breathe. His fingers clawed at the cloth, but it stayed tight along with the other coils now whipping around him.

A collision of Aizawa's foot to his back knocked him to the ground on his stomach, and the Pro stood with one foot digging into his back and his left arm keeping the noose tight until the man finally slumped. Aizawa's hand dropped the line and his hair fell with a long blink. He let out a breath then pulled the guy up into a seated position, hauling him over to the wall of the nearest building to sit him up. He checked his breathing then retrieved his phone from his pocket.

"Eraser Head reporting. I've got the suspect…" He relayed the details, then paused to look down at his limp arm irritatedly, the limb throbbing. "... And minor injuries."

Careless.

He leaned against the wall with his good hand in his pocket, waiting stone-faced and listening for sirens in the distance.

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Monday…

He finally had a dreamless night.

Though, dryly he mused to himself that he probably had the pain medication to thank for that as he rolled over slowly to reach for his phone. He got up heavily with residual soreness from the activity of the day before, carefully getting dressed. He brushed his teeth with his left hand and headed out, arriving at the train station first. It didn't take Hayate long to join him.

"Hey…" She sat down beside him with her brow furrowed and eyes already locked onto the sling holding his right arm. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"I'm fine," he sounded indifferent. "Had a fight that went a bit south, but I took care of it."

She still looked concerned, eyes flicking between his face and arm. "Is anything broken?"

"Just a dislocation and two cracked ribs." Pretty standard fare for him, really. He gestured at the sling. "The nurse at school has a healing Quirk, so this'll be gone by tomorrow."

"That's fortunate... I'm glad you're alright." She lifted her arm over the back of the bench and rested her hand on his left shoulder. Her eyes betrayed lingering worry. He hadn't texted her back very much. "... Aside from that, how were you this weekend?"

His eyes flicked to her then away again. "... In that context, I imagine you mean." His lips scrunched a little. "... I kept myself distracted." His eyes dropped to her hand on his shoulder. She hadn't activated her Quirk, yet. His good hand lifted to wrap around hers, then his eyes rose to hers and stayed there.

She hesitated. "... I'm sure that's not the whole of it. How are you feeling now?"

"It's rather relieving to have you here." His fingertips stroked up and down the back of her hand.

She looked at his slung arm. "Did you do anything reckless? Aggressive?"

His fingers stuttered briefly. "... I was a bit careless, at times."

"It's normal to feel frustrated… I said it would stress you out. When I ovulate, it aggravates every effect you experience; especially if we don't act on it. But, it will be easier for a while now that's over with."

He lowered his chin and lifted her hand, bringing her skin close to his nose. "So then…?"

She paused for a moment, tucking in her lips, then looked back at him and asserted. "I'd rather you take a break today. For a couple of days, actually. Let your brain destress and reset."

His gaze didn't waver from hers. "I can handle it."

"Just… listen to me on this, please. Can you trust my judgment?"

His facial features didn't change, but his fingers stopped moving over hers and he slowly lowered her hand back to his shoulder. "... Yes."

She watched him for a moment gratefully, and circled her fingers around his. "... Why do you want to do this so quickly?"

He looked away from her this time, his chin returning to a normal level. "I don't want you to worry."

"About getting carried away again?"

"Yes."

"Is that all?"

His brows twitched slightly. "What?"

"Is that your only reason?" she repeated. "I've said it before. There's no deadline for this. Whether it's in a month or six, or anywhere in-between, you'll get used to it. We could be doing this slowly and enjoyably, and you wouldn't be so bothered by it. So why do you want to rush through it as quickly as you can?"

He stared at her for a few moments, then something clicked and his brow furrowed as he quickly refuted. "It's not—you're thinking of me speeding things along here, to get to what comes after. Is that it?"

"Is that what you're thinking?"

"No."

His forceful tone was followed by a pronounced silence with her eyes softening as she studied his assertive eyes. "... It's not to offend you. That's just something I have to think about." She looked away with her hand smoothing over his fingers. "And you seem tight-lipped about it. Like… I don't know. You don't want me to worry, I'm sure that's true, but you really want to say something else."

He studied her for a moment more and then looked straight ahead without speaking. His grave countenance prevailed for a drawn-out pause. Then his chest rose with a breath and he let it out through his nose, voice finally rising reluctantly. "Because… you weren't comfortable telling me back then… so I hadn't been inclined to bring it up again. But, if you really want it… I won't ask you to explain, though I'd appreciate a straight answer." He turned his head and looked her in the eyes.

"Has anyone hurt you physically?"

It caught her off guard, and she stiffened, looking at him in surprise. Her lips tensed into a line, and her eyes fell to the side. He didn't say anything, just waiting and watching her mouth shift. After a long pause, she pulled her gaze back to his.

"Yes." Her eyes dropped to the side again. "Rarely, yes… and my Quirk was a… causal factor." She shifted away from him slightly. "And that's it. I'm… sorry, I'm sounding like a hypocrite, asking you to talk to me and I'm not, but here—" Her hand gestured vaguely at the train station, her voice noticeably starting to rise "—is just not… look, I just don't like having the past hang over the present from the start, alright. Eventually, okay? Can we leave it at that for now?"

"That's fine." He sounded very calm in the face of her obviously building anxiety, and she looked back at him. His eyes matched his tone.

"Logically, it seemed like a probability given your Quirk, but I didn't want to make any assumptions. Your past is at your own discretion to share. Just… if there's ever a problem, with anyone or otherwise, let me know. And… If I ever cross a line, say it and I'll be gone. I won't tolerate it. And you will never have to with me."

He held her gaze for a moment, then his head turned forward and his hand slipped away from hers to fold under his sling arm.

"You don't have to worry about me."

She stared at him, both blindsided by how suddenly he'd brought it up and his earnest presentation. But on second examination, it shouldn't have surprised her that he would care enough to be so serious in expressing this to her, his motive her well-being. And though she expected nothing less in that it matched his selfless character exactly, the importance of hearing him say such words made her mind swirl with emotions. She realized she'd been mistaken in thinking his statement denounced her worry of him, when really it was rooted in his for her. She searched for words of her own on the profile of his face, lips preparing to speak but finding too many of them to decide coherently on where to begin.

She bit her lip and turned her head away from him to take longer in deciding. A lot of things rushed into her mind that she could say, but perhaps it was best to start simply with gratitude.

"Thank you."

Her hand slid down his shoulder, and he looked as it compelled his arm to uncross to join hers in lacing their fingers together. She studied their fingers in silence, running her thumb over the back of his. He was trying for her sake, and though she wasn't sure yet how to say it, it made her want to do the same. Her eyes lifted up to the sky, barely a cloud to be found in the early sky.

"Let's… go for a hike. This weekend." He looked at her questioningly, but her gaze was elsewhere on something far off. "The weather's supposed to be good… You know, change of scenery."

He had little doubt from the thoughtfulness of her eyes that the weather was not the only reason for her suggestion.

"...That sounds good." He offered his quiet agreement and they said no more. Her hand stayed with his until the train arrived.

Once on board and resettled into his sleeping bag, her hand invited his head to rest on her shoulder and he obliged, letting his eyelids fall at the peaceful arrangement his whole body had been aching for that weekend. Her head tilted to rest against his, and though she kept her eyes alert enough to watch for his stop, his eyes did not open again until she roused him with a nudge.

He stood up and gathered his sleeping bag, but before he could make up his mind on trusting his body with kissing her or not, she reached out and grabbed his sleeve.

"Hey..."

It surprised him when she stood up, and he held still as she leaned in. Her kiss was soft, sweet, and longer than public propriety would recommend though she lingered without hesitation.

When she pulled away, she looked down at his sling, touching that elbow lightly. "I know circumstances are sometimes out of your control, but… please avoid being reckless." Her eyes lifted with faux—though possible not—seriousness, a faint smile making the distinction hard to tell. "Or else I will have to worry about you."

He was a bit at a loss for this concern, staring then looking away with his good hand rising to his hair to murmur.

"... I will."

Her faint smile grew a little more, and she reluctantly left him to sit back down. He turned and exited the train with a pondering look aimed at the ground before his feet.

She was right to call him out for it. It had been a careless mistake influenced by impulsive emotions rather than logic. He committed the scolding to memory, though being the center of attention for her concern he struggled with a bit more, acknowledging it though quietly brushing it aside into a corner of his own mind.

Thoughtfulness followed him into the morning half of the workday; her being the subject, of course, though possibly distracting himself in tasks wasn't as difficult as the previous week. His body wasn't quite so crazed for her today, seeming at once to be relieved from a bit of her company and not in excess of her Quirk. He was certain she was quite right that taking it slower would be more enjoyable, though he equally wasn't dissuaded from getting a grip on her Quirk as quickly as possible. Assurance preceded any notion of pursuing pleasure.

His thoughts shifted again settling on her proposal for a hike. Its placement in their conversation made him wonder with some of that familiarly nagging interest in all things her just what she wanted to tell him then. The chances of her merely wishing to stretch their legs were slim in his logical assessment. He was in the hallway walking back from the restroom during lunchtime when a voice disrupted his inner dialogue.

"Hey, Eraser."

He looked up from the floor in front of his feet to the canine smile and hand lifted in greeting. "Hey, Hound Dog."

That should have been the end of it; just two souls passing down the hall in opposite directions. But while Aizawa looked back at the ground, the canine teacher stopped walking.

"Have you got a minute…?"

Aizawa stopped and glanced back at him. Hound Dog had a finger touched to the side of his snout with his nose and gaze pointed down the hall. "Been something on my mind."

Aizawa couldn't fathom at what, but having no reason to decline, he turned. "Sure."

Hound looked satisfied, but as he kept walking without speaking anything, Aizawa inferred it must be something of a private nature. That only served to raise some faint interest in him as Hound picked an empty conference room for them to sit down on two comfortable chairs. Aizawa slumped as usual, though Hound seemed ever a bit twitchy with his foot tapping. He crossed his leg and finally spoke in his usual gruff manner.

"You alright today?"

Aizawa looked at him without surprise. "Yeah, I'm good." He lifted his right arm and moved it about as proof. "The old lady got me patched up between classes."

"Not that," Hound replied, then after a pause. "Well, okay, that too. Glad you're good. But not what I mean." His finger rose to scratch the side of his snout, then he looked at him straight. "So, yeah, sorry if it's a bit rude, but you've been smelling different lately."

Aizawa looked blank-faced. "Oh. Uh… Okay? Like uh, new soap?"

"Not anything superficial like that. I mean you."

His hand settling down on his crossed knee, and he shifted forward a little.

"I've got an edge as a guidance counselor that other people don't. See, kids like to say they're fine all the time even when they're not. And they're damn good at hiding it behind a smile, too." He tapped the end of his nose, nostrils twitching.

"But scent never lies. It gives away what's going on inside a person even if they project 'I'm fine' on the outside. If you're stressed, happy, sad, exerted, sick—you can't hide it from me. And everybody's got a normal scent range. See someone every day, and I'll have a read on their usual scent real quick. So even just passing kids in the hall, I can pick out who's feeling normal and who's not."

He paused briefly, watching Aizawa absorb all that information still rather bewilderedly. "... Not just the kids, either. Everyone I know."

Hound shifted in his seat again, holding the ankle of his crossed leg. "So back to what I gotta say, right—your scent's been really unusual lately. Fluctuating off and on for a while now, but especially this last week was unbalanced. And then you came in looking like that—It's not my way to be any nosier than I can help to be. I'm obligated to be everybody's silent confidant. But when my nose won't stop twitching about something, I gotta speak up. It's how I look out for folks. Though that doesn't mean you have to talk back—just that you can."

Hound finished and held still with an air of finality, eyes fixed on Aizawa. For his part, Aizawa spent a great deal more time staring, thinking, and concluding that he felt extremely awkward and self-conscious right now. He slumped his elbows a little further into his knees and cleared his throat.

"That's… very considerate of you." He lowered his head with a hand scratching through his hair. "Erm… what do I smell like, exactly?" A regretful glance to the side made him add quickly. "Actually—do I really want to know?"

"I dunno. Do ya?"

"... Maybe not."

Hound's fangs flashed. "Heheh, I'm not saying you stink! Actually, you've got a very inoffensive scent, usually. Rather bland."

"... Thanks?"

"It's a compliment. The alternative can be much worse."

"I… can't imagine." Well, maybe he could, but he didn't want to. "... So. This is a… counseling session?"

"I wouldn't call it anything that formal. But between us colleagues, maybe a word of trust. Or at the very least, me just letting you I'm already in the know—s." Nose.

Aizawa made a sound of disgust upon hearing a joke he had likely told a hundred times at minimum while Hound took delight in a low bark of amusement. Aizawa hated it, but he consoled himself. Hayate would have loved such a terrible pun.

Aizawa pulled himself back with a sigh. "Alright… thank you. I think." Still debating on that point. He managed to finally look back at Hound Dog as he slumped back in his seat and crossed his leg, his brow very uncertain but not entirely unwilling to go on. "... For starters, I suppose it would be reasonable to ask what you already kn—are aware of." He would avoid that particularly punny word henceforth.

"Hmmm," Hound thought back, lifting his eyes for a bit. "It's been no more than five months since I first smelled a woman on your clothes. Faintly, though her scent is very distinct. It was likely second-hand; probably from the cats you both touched. I could smell three strongly, though sometimes got a whiff of a fourth. From things you said, I gathered there were three kittens and another cat that must have been hers. You smelled like all of them for several months. I smelled her on your sleeping bag as well, though that wasn't recurring like the cats were.

"It's impossible for me to say what you smelled like over summer break as we didn't meet. But the first week you got back, I didn't smell any of them on you. And then she returned the following week, though I've only smelled one cat occasionally. I'm thinking the kittens have moved on. But she's gotten much closer to you. I've smelled her more on your clothes and a lot on your sleeping bag recently. Your scent also shifted. And then this past week was when her scent and yours shifted most dramatically of all."

He paused for a moment, then looked at Aizawa with a nod. "I think that 'bout sums it up."

Aizawa stared at him, not for the first time, though on this occasion he looked rather mortified. He opened his lips slowly. "Well… Nothing really does get past you."

"My nose is always to the wind. Though I'm bad at gossip."

"A rather appreciative quality in a guidance counselor."

"That's right."

Aizawa drew in a long breath and kept a palm to the back of his neck, reluctantly accepting the inherent awkwardness of this conversation for the sake of its good intentions on the other man's part. There seemed no logical point in avoiding any of it, since clearly there was no secrecy to be had.

"Your observations are all correct. I've started seeing someone. Though, it wasn't right from the start. We were acquaintances and grew from there. She's a veterinarian, so that's where the kittens are from. As for her scent…" He thought for a moment, studying Hound Dog's wet nose. It gave him a faint sense of unease.

"... That would be her Quirk you're smelling. It's called 'Pheromones'; scent-based like Kayama's, it's…" He paused again, his brow furrowing a little as he studied him further. "... Just how strong is it to you?"

Aizawa observed a delay in the other man's response as Hound looked away and scratched at his chin with a long hum. "Hmm… not to be indecent to you two or anything… she has a very attractive scent. I've noticed it easily each time."

"I thought that might be the case," Aizawa confirmed his suspicion. Then he let out some breath. "I've had the same impression. That's what it does. It only affects males." He aimed a bleak look at the floor. "I've been going a bit insane, to be honest."

"I can tell. I'll be sure to keep it in mind, should we meet."

"Right…" Aizawa was reminded of her interest in the coming Culture Festival, and tucked away the thought for future reference. His eyes checked the clock on the wall. He placed his hands at the ends of the armrests and pulled himself up out of his slump.

"Well, this was… enlightening. Appreciated. I'll… keep it mind."

Seeing his intent to leave, Hound Dog smiled. "No problem. Any time. And congrats."

"Thanks."

Aizawa's shoulders felt lighter upon leaving the room. He felt peculiar; a bit thankful for having his back looked out for all along but also self-conscious for the same reason. It was rare he found himself self-reflective on his physical presentation to others, but being so thoroughly analyzed for his physical scent which he paid little mind to threw him mentally off-balance.

Unlike her scent, which held his attention undivided. That made him fixate on the opposite position for a moment, of her opinion of him. Hound had called his scent bland and considered that a compliment, but now he wondered doubtfully if a woman would share that sentiment. He focused on his armpits briefly.

… Should I get a scented variety?

He thought about it seriously for a moment, then shook himself. Nonsense. This was highly illogical. Fretting about it like he was a teenager, geez. He thought about it no more, turning his focus ahead to the future.

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Sunday morning…

The week passed in hopeful contrast to the intrusive obsessions of the previous. Hayate refrained from using her Quirk, and it proved a wise move on her part to disrupt the cycle of rising tension within Aizawa. With this came the return of his relaxed eyes and smile, and it reflected back in hers. Much of the tender and newfound affection he'd cautiously been holding back made its tentative return in the absence of his physical concerns with playful banter and kissing her goodbye at the end of the week.

Before they parted on Friday, she gave him simple instructions for Sunday to wear clothes comfortable for hiking and bring his sleeping bag. He followed this easily and met her at the train station with smiles between them and a peck on the lips.

"Do you own a single article of clothing that isn't black?"

Hayate looked at his long sleeves shirt, pants, and boots with teasing incredulity.

"I do. Several, in fact."

Her eyes worked their way back up his exposed collar and casually pulled back hair appreciatively as they sat down. Black suited him, though she could imagine him looking roughly handsome likewise in other colors.

He noticed her eyeing him, his lips drawing back faintly. "What…?"

"Oh, nothing." She draped her arm on his shoulder and looked forward, keeping her musings to herself.

Once on the train, Aizawa settled against her shoulder and Hayate took out her phone. Sometimes they talked in hushed tones about something or other that she pointed out on her screen, though not constantly as the time later in the morning meant more commuters shared the space around them. At some point, he nodded off during the long ride of more than an hour and a half. Her nudge roused him, and as they disembarked, he looked around.

They had arrived at a town on the edge of a natural park. He had to squint on account of the dazzling clear sky above, and the morning air was nicely crisp. With a spring in her step that threatened to leave him behind, she led the way with her eyes aimed up on the warm-hued autumn hills ahead of them. He adjusted the strap across his chest of the stuff sack carrying his tightly rolled sleeping bag on his back. She had a similar though smaller one as well, and he hurried after it with longer strides to match her energy.

Hayate paid little mind to the town, soon passing it by and leading with all the confidence of someone who knew precisely where to go onto smaller roads with signs directing passersby to trailheads and points of interest. With all the unconfidence of someone who scarcely left the city let alone ventured into the woods, he assumed her familiarity with the terrain and followed without questioning their destination. She picked a trail, her eyes high and looking all about at the vibrant leaves above and sometimes going out of her way to step on crunchy leaves below.

A tree was a tree like any other tree, and the forest full of them as far as Aizawa was concerned. Ever the subject of his observations, he was struck by the liveliness about her. Her hair swished freely with every step, her sleeves were short like he couldn't recall before, and there was no scarf to be had. In the company of echoing birdsong rather than a city's people, he could see her comfortable in every way.

"That's a Siberian blue robin."

He blinked dry eyes. "Hm?"

"That bird just now."

He paid the trees a moment of attention, listening for their residents. There were a few bird sounds she could have been ascribing to the one in question, none of which he could name. A steady beat of high cheeping led a rapid burst of lower chirping, and she picked it out.

"That one."

Her lips formed a narrow "o" and she whistled a decent imitation of its call. She looked over at him smiling.

"When I was in junior high, one of the cats brought home a baby one of those. Thankfully it wasn't dead like a lot of their 'presents' were, though it was injured. I spent the next few weeks as an adoptive parent to this little thing until it could start flying on its own. We made sure to lock up the cats until it could get into the trees."

She turned her eyes back to the trees, keen for any glimpse of fluttering wings. He divided his eyes between looking with her and at her. "Good practice for being a veterinarian, I imagine."

"Heh, yes, though not a situation to encourage for the poor little bird's sake. It wasn't the only time the cats did something like that. I saved a baby rabbit and a squirrel from them, too. If we had known better, we'd have kept the cats indoors. Safer for them and the local wildlife. But I think in general people tend to be more lax with cats in the country."

In the silence that followed her words, she heard a different bird call that caught her attention. She named it for him, then whistled an imitation.

"I've never been serious about birdwatching, but I can name a few. Can you whistle at all?"

"Not at all."

"Not even something simple?"

She let out a single clear note and looked at him. His brow creased doubtfully, but he puckered his lips and tried. A weak, raspy bit of noise was all to be heard. He licked his lips and tried again with only marginal improvement.

"If you keep your tongue relaxed; I kind of pull it back a little…" She whistled and focused on her tongue, then tried to explain the feeling to him. He looked at her obvious encouragement for him to keep going with incredulity.

"Now you're just trying to embarrass me in front of the birds."

She chuckled. "Oh, I'm sure even I'm a complete amateur in their eyes. The range of sounds many species can produce is noteworthy, but the precision with which they can replicate them is truly impressive. Even skilled human singers can't compete. And their ability to identify an individual based on those sounds is beyond ours entirely…"

Hayate kept enthusiastically imparting knowledge on the structure and abilities of birds and their songs for a minute. He watched her face and hands animate though said nothing, just enjoying the sight of her in her element. But when she noticed him doing nothing more than nodding mutely along, she stopped and pouted at him.

"Ugh—I'm lecturing, sorry, haha. You know, when I start talking like you're a student or a client, you can stop me at any time!"

Aizawa blinked and looked away. "Uh, no, that's not… I don't have much to say to that, is all. Hadn't heard any of that before." He thought for a moment to come up with a reply containing more substance. "You're knowledgeable. That takes effort to study, and you obviously enjoy it. Logically, it makes sense that you want to share it."

She seemed pleased by that answer and stepped a little closer to his shoulder. "So what do you enjoy studying or learning about?"

"Mmm… sometimes I have to look at educational materials, or criminal reports."

"But that's more of something you have to do occupationally. Though if you enjoy it, too, I suppose."

"Eh, they're alright."

"But what about in your free time, then? Beyond sleeping?"

He made an indifferent sound and shrugged. "Not much of anything, I guess."

"I'm not inclined to believe you're that boring." Judging by her expression, he felt she needed more from him. He scratched the back of his head and searched the bushes and underbrush along the dirt trail.

"I don't see how that's surprising. I'm really not an exciting person. Teaching takes most of the day, patrols take the rest of the night, and then I don't have any energy left, so I sleep. It's a simple life; that's all it needs to be."

He fell quiet but didn't seem finished, a pondering frown still aimed at the ground. "Not that I don't like having more than that… I get the itch to break routine now and then. More often, I get dragged by a friend to something or other, and it's alright, usually. And little things I might indulge, simple pleasures… the kittens were one of those."

He thought again, and this time his eyes flicked over finding her steady gaze. "I guess lately I've been studying you, in a manner of speaking."

She smiled. "An interesting subject, I hope."

"Yes," he agreed and looked away with a faint smile. "For a number of reasons."

Her Quirk went unspoken, but it came to her mind as the primary reason. Her eyes went to the trees again with her smile subsiding into a line. For a while, Hayate took solace in the voices of the birds then took in a deep breath.

"And, on that note…"

He looked back at her, finding her gaze distantly searching the branches.

"I want to talk with you about something. About my Quirk. And, if you wouldn't mind saving your questions till after… I'll see how I feel about answering them."

He focused on her with his face leveling out in attention. "Alright…"

For another moment, Hayate paused to go over rehearsed lines in her head that Tenten had heard a fair number of times. The lively pace she'd set before slowed down. She laced her fingers with palms facing outwards and stretched her arms down, not looking at him as she began speaking in a quiet, brisk voice with her tone reserved.

"I appreciate what you've been doing, and I want you to know that I'm not worried about you. You've given me enough reasons that I trust you to hear this. I don't like talking about it. I'd rather not focus on the past. But my Quirk's not going anywhere, and I know you're worried about it.

So, to pick up where we left off... Yes, I have been hurt physically, and my Quirk had a hand in creating those situations. I don't know that I'd blame all my woes on it, but it has a way of increasing the odds, by attracting attention."

She paused to take a needed breath from rushing, keeping her eyes on anywhere but him. Her tongue rolled along the inside of her lip and she fidgeted with her laced hands, bringing them in front of her stomach as she gathered the rest of her practed bullet points into clipped sentences.

"More often than not, it's nothing dangerous, just embarrassing. Like turning down dates in public, or getting comments. Usually the conversations are polite enough, but persistent. Most men simply aren't bad people. The kinds of men who don't stop there though, and cause me real trouble… they're probably not so great people to begin with.

They'll keep pushing when I tell them no. Trying to argue and convince me. Get into my space, or corner me up against something. My Quirk helps make some of them bold enough to get physical. I have been touched inappropriately, and grabbed especially if I try to walk away… Rarely, it has gone as far as physically assaulting me for refusing advances. Typically as an escalation to everything else.

For some, they didn't have the boldness to approach me, but did follow me. In public, or even back to my home. I was actively stalked by at least one individual that I know of…"

She paused again, thinking over her bullet points and making sure she hadn't missed any before moving on. She brought her hands up to curl around the straps of her pack and pulled in a breath just to let it back out, then drew in another.

"My Quirk impacts dating, too. It encourages them to want to look their best, even lie to do it. Makes it harder to tell what their genuine behavior is. And they're more likely to push for physical intimacy.

And I did have one relationship where it went that way. It seemed great, till I knew him well enough that I relaxed around him. He crossed a line once, and it was only once. I didn't give him any second chances. I've never been in a situation where I was… that I was hurt badly. It's never gotten that far.

They aren't common incidents. Just more than what the average person gets. I avoid situations that increase those odds where possible, but some places are just unavoidable, like the train. And I'm used to handling them, so… I know how to take care of it when they come up."

She fell silent again, thinking everything over. Noticing that her shoulders had tensed up without realizing, she made them relax. Nothing else came to her mind that she wanted to add, and she flicked a quick glance at Aizawa confirming he was still watching her intently. Her eyes didn't linger on him, returning to the trees, though she made a conscious effort to relax her tightened speech, glad to have dumped it all out quickly and have it over with.

"... I wanted you to know that much. You can ask now, if you want."

He didn't speak right away, and she felt the silence heavily. She fixed her ears on every bird, crunching leaf, and the scuff of shoes on dirt to fill the void.

"... I don't have to, either. You don't seem very comfortable right now."

His voice was quiet and level. It aimed to reassure, though she exhaled a sharp huff of air instead, arms swinging back down by her sides.

"The last time I stuck out my neck and told the guy I was dating, he seemed great about it then ended up becoming an ass who joined near the top of the list, so…"

Her voice trailed off, eyes finding memories in the shadows between bare bushes and trees.

"...But you're definitely not him. I'm comfortable with you. And that matters more to me."

Looking up abruptly, her hands rose as she spoke.

"I've got a Quirk that sabotages me. I could swear off men altogether and be afraid thanks to a couple of pricks out there, but that would be a bitter way to live. People always want what they can't have. I guess my crime's being a hopeless romantic. But everybody's got their own shit to deal with, right, gotta find a way to deal with it. It's my normal."

She noticed how stiff and defensive her tone was, and thought for a moment, softening her voice.

"... Maybe I am a little bitter, though. Sometimes. But it feels much better to not stay there."

She forced her avoiding gaze to look at him, still finding the same quiet attentiveness.

"... I wouldn't be here with you if I did. I… am looking forward to this, with you, so…"

Hayate struggled to find the right words, so she smiled hesitantly instead, watching his eyes. To her relief, his lips pulled back in a soft, reassuring smile. His calm eyes dropped to her hand swinging slowly by her side, and he tentatively stretched out his fingers to hers. She gladly accepted the offer of touch, meeting his hand halfway.

"... Is there anything I should avoid that would make you uncomfortable?"

It was a considerate question that put her at some ease. She thought about it for a while, walking hand-in-hand with him.

"Sometimes… it's different in public versus at home. I feel more comfortable in my own space. And grabbing me, especially my arms, or hair… softly is alright, but not tightly… The way you've held me before with the Capturing Weapon is fine, it doesn't feel rough... Saying some things, like crude language or being called 'pet names' just irritates me... There are some objects that remind me of certain people… I don't like getting roses anymore, especially red ones. Smells, too, like particular colognes. And it doesn't apply to you, but… I have a hard time with animal Quirks."

She let out a breath, her cheeks puffing.

"Any kind of animal Quirk with a good nose. The times I've had trouble, they've usually been it. They're just extremely sensitive to my Quirk, since it's scent-based. I think it's been the greatest irony of my life that despite picking a career dedicating to animals that it's men with animal Quirks I've had the most difficulty with."

"If that happens and I'm with you, what do you want me to do?"

She answered quickly, looking at him assuredly. "Just follow my lead. It's… kind of hard to explain how, but I can sort of tell what type of situation it will be by reading the guy, if that makes sense."

Aizawa nodded, though his brow furrowed somewhat as he deduced. "... It's happened that frequently, huh?"

She answered quietly. "Yeah…"

He thought about it silently, his brows knitting further.

"It should never have happened so often that you call that your 'normal'. But, since it has… I don't find it acceptable, should any of it happen again. Just tell me what you need, and I'll be there."

"Right…" Hayate smiled at him gratefully, and squeezed his hand. Aizawa returned the gesture, and the look in his eyes compelled her to step closer to his side and rest her head on his shoulder. They were hardly walking at all now, in no rush up the trail. She waited expectantly for him, but he said nothing more. Tilting her head, she looked at his face aimed straight ahead.

"... So, um. You have more questions?"

He glanced down at her, smiling faintly in reassurance. "I don't see a need to ask so many right now. Perhaps later, or… I'll leave it up to you to tell me."

He watched her eyes and lips relax into a relieved smile. "Thank you..."

Her eyes dropped for a moment, then she pulled her hand out of his. She stopped them on the path, turning to him and wrapping her arms around his waist, and he circled his arms around her back. She tucked her chin against his collar and enjoyed his physical presence for a while; his warmth, the subtle sound and motion of his breathing, his mild smell beneath unscented products, and the embrace of his arms both hard with strength and comforting.

She felt lighter, relieved of the anxiety she'd carried into the woods in anticipation of this conversation. She knew him well enough to expect his calm, supportive reaction, but experiencing it confirmed the importance of hearing those words directly. It dispersed the troublesome emotions and memories in the particles that followed her wherever she went. It strengthened the certainty of her feelings for him. In gratitude, she felt a sincere longing to meet and express his kindness equally.

"...You're really great, you know." He glanced down at her mumbled words against his chest. "Maybe not at parties, or when it comes to fashion, or anything resembling small talk… But you are where it really matters."

Her voice had a playful edge that he chuckled faintly at. She pulled away to look him in the eyes, smiling and gazing silently for a moment. "If I could do something for you, what would it be?"

He smiled softly. "You don't need to do anything. This is already enough."

Her head tilted. "This…?"

"Just spending time with you."

"… That's all?"

His lip pulled up wryly. "It's not often I've said that for anyone. I'd be irritated by most people. But you have my attention."

That earned him a broader smile from her. "Anything specific you'd like to do with our time?"

She noticed him hesitate, eyes flicking across her lips for a fraction of a second then scanning up and around at the trees.

"This is nice. Just walking."

"... It's been a while since we've practiced."

He looked back at her quickly. "Are you... alright with that?"

The coy glint that sprung to her eyes as she settled them on his lips offered a sufficient reply. "We'll just have to find a nice quiet place."

Her eyes flicked back up to his, seeing that he found it appealing. "Well… I think you know this area better than I do."

"One of my favorites, then?" She looked up and to the side for a few seconds with a grin. "...Alright. I've got one in mind."

Stepping away from him, she took hold of his hand and started them on the hike again. For a while, neither said anything as they resumed their original pace and focused again on the forest. Hayate carried a lingering thoughtfulness, though, and her gaze eventually returned to him.

"... Still, is there no little thing I could do for you? A small indulgence, like the kittens were, or...?"

Aizawa thought about it and shrugged. "Well, I wouldn't turn down you bringing another kitten, but I don't need material things and I already have the essentials covered. Any more than that would be in excess… time is worth more than any of that, anyway. But if you really want to, I'd be happy with whatever."

"Hmm…" She pondered, an impish look creeping onto her face. "Not sure how I'd top what I've done already. Confessed my heartfelt feelings. Serenaded you with a piano. Wooed you with all manner of cats. And need I even mention catnip?" She turned her playful features on him. "I suppose I could try reciting poetry under your moonlit window."

He snorted and his eyes wandered the trees with a sheepish smile. "I… may have been a bit slow to the idea of dating."

"A very unusual experience," she agreed. "I have to say, typically my Quirk makes 'wanting to date' the easy part."

"I see… though, amendment to my statement on 'anything'. Poetry would not have helped."

"Why? You don't like poetry?"

"It's pretentious and superfluous."

Hayate chuckled at his word choice. "Such strong feelings on the matter! I bet I could write something to your standards."

He looked at her with a crinkled brow. "Uh… I wasn't making a challenge."

She pretended not to hear, bringing her free hand to her chin. "Hmmm… I'm thinking something about cats and the heart, in anatomical terms. It must have some kind of veterinary reference… Purrs hum through my atrium."

"You should probably stick with medical journals."

She laughed. "And sarcasm! Good point. It must have plenty of that."

"I wasn't… hm." He gave up on his objection with a dreary exhale. It seemed it would only encourage her more. "... I'd prefer whistling to poetry."

"Ah! We can do that. I doubt we'll have you fooling any of the birds, but maybe carry a tune or two…"

They headed up the trail still hand-in-hand, Hayate chattering all about the feathered citizens of the forest and puckering her lips in imitation of them, and Aizawa proving no better at whistling than he would have at poetry.

Though not an enthusiastic student, he could see the mirth in her eyes at his humorously shortcoming attempts, and she tried earnestly to teach him. Had it been anyone else, they'd have driven him to great annoyance and retreating to solitude. But it felt different with her, as it did between them at the train and elsewhere. Her wit that bit back against his sarcasm and grumbles proved more entertaining than the subject, keeping his attention as sharp as her tongue.

And in the stretches between conversations when only the environment could be heard, the silence felt just as comfortable. Sometimes he would notice her step closer to brush his shoulder, or feel her fingers smooth over his in a minor adjustment of her grip. In the aftermath of a difficult conversation, she found it easy to be closer with him. He felt a strong desire to keep it that way.

They progressed in elevation up the vibrant hills. The path was in good condition and quite dry making the climb and future descent without complaint. The trees were densely packed for most of an hour, then he noted them thinning with some gaps in the treetops allowing glimpses of the view below them.

Aizawa heard a river before he saw it. A bridge ahead of them became visible through a break in the trees, wood worn though sturdy. They approached and found the treeline parted along rocky banks now narrowed with autumn rainfall, though still walkable. The river had a healthy swell of currents and white swirls around many larger rocks that jutted up.

Hayate stopped them on the bridge to settle her arms on the railing and observe the water downstream, admiring the blue reflected back from the sky. Out from under the shade of the trees, the sunlight pleasantly warmed her back.

"The water's a lot higher than when I was here in the summer. We're having a good amount of rainfall."

"Hm." He slouched onto the railing beside her.

They scanned the scenery for a while with nothing but the churning water to be heard. Her eyes searched the riverbanks and picked out a wide, flat spot tucked into the treeline. She turned her gaze to him, studying his profile in silence until he noticed her, turning his head to look back at her questioningly.

"... What?"

Her lips twitched back, and she leaned forward for a slightly surprising kiss, though he readily closed his eyes and kissed her back. She lingered, and he felt her shift closer with a hand touching his arm. He kept his hands where they were on the railing, grip tightening slightly. When she did pull back, it was just far enough to look him in the eyes with her lips spreading slowly. Then she stepped away without saying a word.

Her fingers trailed across his back as she passed behind him. He turned his head to keep sight of her and pushed away from the railing to follow her off the bridge. As soon as she reached the end of it, she turned off the path to hop down some narrow ledges at its base. Now on the bank, she stepped over the mix of firm and loose stones delicately checking her footing. He followed her example, curious of this detour though not questioning of it. She reached the spot her eyes had picked out for them and looked back at him as she slipped off her pack.

"A good spot for a break."

"Ah." He sized up the flat stone with a hand lifting to the strap of his sleeping bag pack, though hesitated to do more.

She crouched and opened her bag. "Do you want some water?"

"Sure." He stayed standing as he received the reusable bottle she handed him. He cast his eyes along the stretch of river and trees around them as he drank, listening to her rustling fabric. Scan complete, he looked back at her and saw that the sound came from her unrolling an orange sleeping bag of a tightly-packed, lightweight variety. She laid it out flat then glanced up at him with a smile.

"Nicer than sitting on a cold hard rock."

The sight of her bringing her own sleeping bag to match dragged a smile onto his face.

"Very logical of you."

She sat down on it with her knees bent up, still smiling at him. "Are you going to keep standing there?" She glanced at the available space beside her.

He looked at the spot too for a moment, then with uncertain movements slipped his sleeping bag off and set the water bottle aside. She watched him as he laid out his sleeping bag to join hers half in the sun, half under the edge of speckled shadows from the treeline. He took a seat mirroring her with bent knees and arms braced behind him, casting an anticipatory sidelong glance her way. It didn't escape her notice, and she scooted closer to him.

"This is a good spot to stay for a while."

"Y-Yeah…"

But perhaps not too long, the thought crossed his mind as she brought her lips to his. Aizawa paid careful attention to the sensations washing over his brain, not allowing himself to lose awareness of them. She gradually leaned into his side and laid a hand on his abdomen, but he kept his fingers bunched in the sleeping bag fabric beneath him. Hayate could feel the reservation of his lips as she sought gradually to deepen their kiss, but he didn't follow her lead or move closer to her. She opened her eyes and pulled back slightly, searching his.

"... You seem a little nervous."

Focused as he was, it surprised him that she'd noticed, and his eyes dropped away from hers. "Last week was…" His voice died, the mere mention of it seemed to be sufficient explanation.

Her voice reassured him gently. "I made sure we took it easy this week. I think you'll find it more enjoyable now. Like the first time."

He didn't say anything in reply, eyes lifting to hers but otherwise remaining still. She smoothed her hand up to his chest, speaking softly. "I won't let it get that far again. And I trust you to listen. So… I want you to relax, and not think about it. Just enjoy it. Don't worry."

He studied her soothing features. Certainly it wasn't from a lack of want that he hesitated. Not worrying about it was easier said than done with how careful and how determined he was to ensure her comfort. But perhaps in his efforts he had overlooked the reverse situation, of her concern for him. It seemed the small thing she thought to do for him was give him peace of mind.

His eyes shifted to her lips, and slowly he moved closer until their noses were nearly touching. He paused and looked back into her eyes, sharing breath for a moment, then murmured.

"I'll trust your judgment…"

He closed his eyes and the distance to her lips. He suppressed his worry, focusing not on himself but her this time. He paid attention to her sensations: enticing scent of course, soft lips that deepend gradually, her arms slowly wrapping around him, her weight leaning into him feeling exceptionally warm; the hiking surely wasn't the only reason for that, he thought his last thought before his mind became quiet.

His fingers uncurled from the sleeping bag and he moved his hand to the back of her head to feel her hair comb smoothly through his fingers. He felt her weight relaxing down to the sleeping bag, her embrace bidding he followed. And he did, bracing one arm above her head with fingers still in her hair and the other along her side, settling his torso against hers lightly.

How he'd ached to be so close with her these past weeks, but caution had held him back. That sense of physical discovery in territory unexplored returned, thrilling his body and mind. It would be all too easy to lose his sense of reason again. They could do so much more—

Before the rush of chemistry could overwhelm him or his own mind interject with worry, her hands smoothed their way up his body to his cheeks, and she gently pressed his face away.

He stopped and opened his eyes, feeling flushed from the thudding of his heart and taking deep breaths through slightly parted lips. He stared into her eyes and smiled at how they seemed brighter.

She smiled back. "You look like you enjoyed that."

He exhaled a faint chortle. "Yeah… so did you."

She chuckled and her hands trailed up from his face to circle his neck. He stayed where he was, resting his forehead against hers and closing his eyes, feeling her breath. This feeling of closeness, of yearning for more of it, still struck him as novel and hard to define. He'd never felt such a desire for anyone before her, only scrutinized the sight of it in others. But to hold it himself as he did now, there was no doubt in his mind that it would be incredibly irrational to lose it foolishly.

"... This is about far enough physically, for a while." He opened his eyes and pulled back slightly to look at her, continuing. "Until it's easier."

She gazed back at him. "We'll take our time. Enjoy every step. Though, I think... it already is a little easier for you. "

"Hm… maybe." He looked at her for a moment more, then settled his head down on her shoulder. Maybe. He had to say, the heady rush of her Quirk seemed to have already settled down into the quiet pleasure just being near her. He breathed in the scent of her hair by his nose and closed his eyes.

Her eyes flicked to the back of his head with a humorous look, eyebrow raised and smirking. "... Wanna take a nap?"

His head lifted back, teeth flashing with a laugh. "Hey… that's my line." He lifted himself up, rolling onto his back on his own sleeping bag. "And I'd be hard pressed to ever say no."

He bent the arm that had been at her side behind his head as a pillow while his other arm remained stretched out by her head. She snuggled up to his side using his offered arm for her head, and her hand dipped into her pocket to fish out her phone.

"You've got…" She held up the screen with its numbers to him. "One hour. The train doesn't run so often out here, so we can't finish the hike too late, or else we'll have our first overnight camping experience as well."

"Hm, well… guess I better get to it."

They shared one final smile then he straightened his neck and closed his eyes.

With the edge of the treeline casting shadows on his face, the rest of his body warmed by the sunlight, the lulling of the river, and her presence at his side, this could very well be the perfect place to sleep.

In the weeks and months to come, they would continue the gradual, unhurried conditioning. Yet determined, he would insist on using her Quirk at the train as often as possible—at her discretion. And he would find with each passing week that she was right. It did get easier with time.

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A/N: Shoutout to Matchamida for proofreading all three of these last chapters :-) Now it's time for an under-the-hood look of my thought process for them.

-The vet stories from last chapter with the X-ray pic and the seventeen hair ties are both real events that I witnessed during my two years as a vet assistant. Pets eat the darndest things!

-A more serious chapter this time, and goshdarnarghwhew it was hard to write. I've given up trying to assess if it sounds good or not, we must continue onward! The next several chapters will be stepping back from the lovey-dovey-newness of all these romantic feelings and onto some other exciting I'm-not-spoiling-them things ;P

-MHA tends to focus on the best Quirks, and this makes sense given its story's focus. I'd like to introduce a new angle on Quirks in Meow. Midoriya's case demonstrated how Quirkless individuals experience prejudice in their society. But Hayate is someone with a Quirk who would rather not have it at all.

She's not the first that has had drawbacks to her Quirk. Twice's clones can turn on him, and Aoyama's belly laser requires a belt to be safe. I think the Vigilantes spinoff did the best job of portraying truly detrimental Quirks with one of its characters, Kamachi Kirihito (also goes by Kamayan), whose Quirk turns him into a hulking praying mantis. He can fight, sure, but every day tasks as simple as sipping tea are a struggle for him.

What's unique about Hayate is that her Quirk is a mutant type, but she doesn't look obviously mutant. The average non-mutant observer doesn't see her as different enough to earn sympathy, and the people with difficult mutant Quirks who should be her allies think she has it easy. To both groups, she "doesn't look mutant enough". The MHA world is quite advanced, but remember that there still exists a religious sect that wants to purge mutant Quirks which was ever so briefly mentioned in regards to Spinner. Whether you're Quirkless or just have the "wrong" Quirk, non-conforming can be a struggle.

She tries to handle her Quirk as maturely as possible, but also gets defensive about it from the flack she gets for it and is simply tired of having to explain it and justify her struggles to others. And finding someone who just accepts it and is willing to work with it because they want her is the absolute jackpot as far as she's concerned.

We'll be exploring more of how her psychology developed soon, but it's impossible to do that without mentioning the sexual harassment her Quirk has had a hand in instigating. I've been researching this topic from a victim's perspective and just really tried to get in Hayate's head so that this is a fair and realistic portrayal, not some more toxic garbage for the reject book pile. Some elements I've taken directly from this research include her sense of vulnerability, defensiveness, and possessing triggers. One thing that surprised me that I included was seeing multiple people who told their partner early on about their history, like on date 1-3. She tells Aizawa in an environment where she's comfortable and has time to plan, asks him not to interrupt her, and doesn't go into explicit detail right away; people don't talk about uncomfortable memories at the drop of a hat, after all. I could go on, but I think you get the point: I'm trying to make a balanced, realistic, complex character who also happens to be a female with abuse in her history but isn't a damsel whose life revolves around it or needs a man to save her (though she would like one along for the journey) and has got her own goals to do. And I think I just burned a significant portion of the trashy romance genre in one sentence. Good riddance.

Okay, my essay is concluded! Off my soapbox! Next chapters will be a while, I might write a few of them together like I did for these so they flow right. But stay tuned, and feel free to share your own thoughts about Hayate or the chapters if you want.