The only aspect more bewildering than Shota Aizawa agreeing to spend a day on the beach was his offer to invite others- namely, two individuals smelling faintly of pheromones and potential, whose presence would almost- dare I say it- give our group the appearance of a double date.
A lightning bolt would be less shocking at such an implication.
Within ten minutes, my (our?) friends agreed, and our next-day duo became a happy quartet.
So it was no real surprise I couldn't sleep, even as his deep breathing tried to lull me back in, heart slow against my shoulder, a white noise machine without an off switch. My quiet wiggling came to a standstill when the arm around me tightened.
"Stop. Go back to sleep."
His embrace was still loose enough for me to turn in, rest my face on his slobber-less pillow. The sun had barely yet cracked the horizon; I could barely make out his knit eyebrows in the dim morning light. I smoothed them free of wrinkles, one by one.
"I can't. I'm too excited."
All the phone calls had been made, every item necessary obtained or ready for pick-up.
If this was going to be the last time I saw Shota Aizawa for a while, I was going to make every second count.
A wave of air filtered out through his considerate nose, knowing even he fell prey to morning breath. His eyes were doing a sort of crinkle; not out of joy or amusement, but through how tightly he squeezed them shut. As if by seeing his feigned sleep I would somehow follow suit, monkey-see-monkey-do.
"That's- Are you for real right now?"
A quickened pulse greeted his when he pulled my body closer until we were cocooned into one being, one long leg trapping mine between.
I wriggled again, finding the curve of his foot with my toes. He jerked and two black-ink eyes opened at last.
"Strike one."
"People wear them under their clothes, right? Like, no one actually changes at the beach...right?"
Surely those little red-and-white changing rooms were fictional; what kept them from blowing away? Or- worse- what kept a group of insidious teenage girls from knocking it over while a person was still inside?
I did a pirouette in front of the bathroom mirror. As far as I could tell, the outline of my swimsuit was perfectly hidden under my dress.
"Do you think this looks oka-" I began before feasting my eyes on him. He looked back, face a passive canvas of boredom.
As if he wasn't decked from head to toe in black clothing, reflective shades sitting atop his knotted hair and face already clearly, abundantly lotioned. Above his black shoes rose obsidian socks, as dark as the rest of him, nary a fleck of bare skin in sight save his hands.
We stared at each other for fifteen uninterrupted seconds.
"You can't-"
"I never agreed to your attire, Tsutomi."
"But you're going to-"
"Skin cancer is not a disease I take lightly."
I breathed in, held the combustion for a few precious seconds. He continued with a dead-eyed stare.
"Let's make a compromise," At least putting the laundry away came with a few location perks. I hurriedly picked out a few items and returned from the bedroom with an outfit not resembling funeral attire. "Jogger-sweatpants or whatever- still black- and a black T-shirt. You- I bought you a pair of flip-flops. They'll feel weird, but will be better suited to the sand. I really, really don't want you to die of sunstroke, Shota."
"You're wearing that dress?"
I wondered if he'd recall the floral-print wrap dress. I did a shimmy; he wrinkled his nose.
"You're criticizing my outfit, yet are willing to wear a dress any pervert could take off with the mere pull of a string-"
"Clothes were meant to be taken off, and you'll be there to stop that from happening anyway. Besides, I have my swimsuit on underneath, remember?"
He released a nondescript grunt. The beach had been all but calling my name since last night; each minute spent bickering was a minute lost sunning like a lizard.
I used his surprise to my advantage when I rushed him, taking the initiative to simply start undressing and redressing him myself.
We didn't have all day, after all.
"Chiyo, shit, why are your hands so cold-"
"I bought snacks and drinks- will you carry the little cooler? I'll take out the beach towels and bag." He looked far less ridiculous in a t-shirt, at least. Discreetly, I swiped a little bit of his visible sunblock off via submersion. "Manami will bring the umbrella when she comes. Can you go an hour or so without complete and total shade?"
"I could have in my real clothes-"
"These are also your real clothes. As taken from our room."
A bouquet of roses grew beneath my skin and he looked up at me, surprised. I choked out an awkward laugh which only emphasized how insane I was.
"Sorry, I didn't mean- Your room, obviously, I- aha, can you, um- I'm going to car the towels- I'm going to take the towels to the car."
I wondered if there were telepaths out there who just listened in on conversations for shits and giggles, compared them with their other tele-friends to see who overheard the most embarrassing idiots of the day.
Winner winner, chicken dinner.
Nasu demonstrated to Endo how to look at me with obvious pity, both meandering after my quick steps into the spare room, practically shaking their heads along with their swishing tails. They both signaled their sympathy with doleful purrs, wrapping around my legs like little eels. Another dollop of embarrassment plopped into my chest; even my cats recognized my awkwardness.
The towels and extra clothes I'd packed last night were right where I left them. I filled my arms and swiveled, only to find the exit blocked.
Arms crossed, the embodiment of nonchalance, but a maddening dimple fought to say hello.
"We could move this dresser into our room. That way you wouldn't have to keep traveling between the two."
Even the felines turned to wisely blink up at me, expectant. I took in a slow breath.
"Look, I didn't mean to- I don't want you to feel like this is something you have to do because of something I said, or because you don't know how to ask me to leave. You said before you were accustomed to a certain kind of lifestyle; this is throwing a lot at you."
"Do you want to stay here?"
Did I want to wake up to his face everyday? Have somebody to listen to my classroom complaints and share conspiracies over TV dramas? Was the sky blue? Did Bakugo have anger issues?
"Yeah, I do."
The boldness fluttered my heart, but I didn't look away. "But I won't if you just feel obligated to let me. I would understand if you'd rather I found somewhere else to stay- it's totally fine. I definitely come with a lot of cons."
"Such as?"
"You'll start finding hair pretty much everywhere- in the shower, on your clothes, probably on every blanket and pillow. I'm really bad about leaving water glasses everywhere, and Nasu will definitely knock a few over trying to drink out of them."
"Don't forget your bizarre sleeping positions," Shota added. One side of his mouth tugged at my exasperation.
"Right. And we both shower at night- there's bound to be conflict. I need a solid forty-five minutes in the morning to get ready, and I set three alarms- two of which I hit snooze through-"
"Why don't you just set one?"
I snorted. "The best sleep occurs between those two five-minute increments."
Nasu led Endo to one side of the room, freeing the route a pair of dark-clad legs was slowly taking in my direction.
He observed the fingers he took into his own hand. There was a freckle, I noticed, at the crest of my index finger's knuckle. Was it one of the original eighteen seeds he'd counted?
Shota brought it to his mouth, marked it into memory.
"The last time I asked you to stay, you told me no," His eyes found mine, the lower half of his face still behind our hands, but the bristle of his face against my skin described what hid beneath. "If I ask again, how do I know you won't say the same again?"
"You're just going to have to ask," My voice sounded way too breathy. I tried to reel it in, only to find doing so was like using fishing wire to catch a blue whale.
"Chiyo."
"Shota."
"Will you stay with me?"
"Only if you bring a swimsuit today."
All the seriousness I'd managed broke like floodgates with his open-mouthed surprise. I cackled, grabbed his face to kiss before he could pinch me to death, gleeful in his blushing vulnerability.
Why hadn't I ever questioned Mom when she forbade me from going to the beach? Or the local pool, even; surely that should've struck me as strange.
A blurry memory of a "chlorine allergy" floated like a buoy to my mind's surface.
So, that's how I got out of every single pool day in school.
Which meant, in a sudden surprising revelation, that I really didn't know how to swim.
In the lake, I'd been so obsessed with the sensation of submersion I hadn't even noticed what I was doing- floating in the middle of the water, neither sinking nor surfacing.
A newfound trepidation tickled my nape. Surely I'd have water training in the upcoming days. Swimming seemed like something I should probably know how to do.
New objective: learn the basics of swimming before we leave today.
How hard could it be?
"Ready?"
The water reached out to me long before the car pulled to a stop. Now, moments away from being in its presence, I felt oddly hesitant.
A cool hand slid between my slightly shaking fingers.
I shook off the nerves like sand caught in a beach towel. He kissed my hand again, somehow understanding.
People moved like sun-drunk crabs around the beach, laughing and playing and lazing in the growing warmth. Apparently, a day at the beach at the cusp of summer wasn't exactly innovative. We had little trouble finding a vacant patch of sand nonetheless.
A scowl was already growing across Shota's face as I spread out the beach towels.
"In direct sunlight like this?"
"Manami's bringing an umbrella, remember?" Such a baby. "If you'd worn shorts you wouldn't already be sweating."
"I'm not sweating."
He was very clearly sweating; I didn't even have to use submersion to notice the dewiness pin-pricking his neck. Restraining an eye roll proved an All-Mighty effort.
His disdain paused, interest piqued when I began to shed my hotly-debated dress. "When did you get that?"
Panic rippled my senses as I looked down; had I received a scar I hadn't noticed earlier? But no- the bottom half proved high-waisted enough to cover any area the surgery would've impacted, halfway swallowing my navel.
I realized, quite stupidly, he meant the swimsuit itself.
"I ordered it online one day, while you were out running errands," I held my hands up in demonstration, doing a little turn. "What do you think?"
"You have...breasts."
"I know!" I exclaimed, brushing over the practical insult. I gave both sides of my chest a little press, emphasizing their strapped-and-pushed-up bindedness. His face, in turn, grew in color. "I don't like the implication I don't usually, but this bad boy really puts them on display, huh?"
I plucked the elastic hemline on one thigh and again a strange sort of embarrassment twitched his features. "I don't really like the Baywatch cut exposing this weird part of my, like, thigh-hip area, but that's just the style now, I guess."
"Hm."
"No opinion?"
"I feel like I'll get slapped with any answer I supply, so no."
Wise man. Irritation was already pinching back into his face when I plopped onto my own towel and patted his, bag in hand.
I'd never even seen a 100 SPF sunscreen and felt pretty confident, from the colorful packaging, it was meant for children, but considering Shota looked near vampiric in the bright light, the choice seemed appropriate. His nose wrinkled as I smeared a blob across his cheeks.
"Aren't you going to put any on?" He asked when I finished and returned the bottle to my bag.
"Hm? Nah. I don't burn." Another skin aspect I wondered if was due to my quirk or simply good genes. His dark-eyed glare dealt far more damage than the sun ever had to me, and Eraser Head-level quickness allowed him to snatch both the bottle back out of the bag and one of my fleeing arms before I could make a proper break for it.
"Shota, I won't get a tan," I whined to no avail. He grabbed a weakly-kicking leg and I fell ass-first into the sand before he dragged me closer.
"Reckless, irresponsible-" He muttered under his breath. The sight of my almost-completely-bare back only enlivened the fury of his ranting further.
"Ready?"
"Are you done assaulting me, then?"
He ignored me like one does a sulking child. I took his hand anyway, used him to pull myself up and head down the gentle slope towards my fear and salvation.
It was alive.
Breathing.
In, out, a constant swell I could match to my own lungs, the very pull of my blood.
Gulls cried to one another. A nearby child squealed with the tide, running from the foaming hands of the water.
What must it feel like, to hold so many worlds inside itself? To be so vast and consistent; violent, at times, but also gentle enough to caress the fragile surface of a seashell without desecration. Life teemed in every wave, electrified my skin when the water reached out for me.
"You're trembling."
I blinked. With it, a droplet of borrowed salt returned back to the ocean.
I swiped at my face quickly, feeling silly.
"I don't think I've ever felt something so wonderful and terrifying."
Was this what Mom had felt, before Kotaro? At the end of the day she had a water quirk, too, even if that quirk dehydrated rather than replenished.
Shota rolled his pant legs up. The hair on his calves stood in stark contrast to the ivory skin, feet already hidden beneath the tide.
A hand reached out for mine again, gentler than before.
I took it and followed him into the water.
The movement of the waves pulled like a magnetic force, unlike the stillness of the lake. Even through the saltiness, blinking my eyes open proved simple.
There was a difference between being trapped and being still.
Floating between the ocean floor and the surface where a pair of grey eyes watched me, just like in the dream, didn't feel nearly as ominous with this realization.
The land he hid on before was reachable.
Now, I knew I held a place in both worlds.
Shota managed about twenty minutes of water exposure before beginning to clearly drift closer and closer to the shore, back towards the safety of our towels. He at least held my hand like proper date etiquette dictated.
A red fox was sniffing around our spot upon our return, looking uncannily familiar in a cut-out, dark-colored swimsuit. If not for the braid of fire swathed around her head, one might've mistaken us for siblings.
"Hey! I thought I recognized your bag!" Manami cheered with a wave. I broke free from Shota to hurry over, helping her pierce the sand with the stake of an umbrella. "We bought the same swimsuit!"
"I know! We look so good! Can you believe what it does to our-"
"I know!" Manami replicated a similar nudge against her own chest and someone behind me abruptly choked on their own oxygen intake.
"Oh, did we forget to sunscreen your neck? It's looking a little red." I commented innocently.
"Manami," Shota gave a nod of acknowledgement. My childhood friend gave a little wave before spreading her towel out next to mine. "I almost didn't recognize you without glasses."
Oh, right.
Of course they already knew each other; two weeks of puzzling together my obscure clues and uncovering my locations probably gave them more than enough time to get to know one another, at least beyond introductory formalities. A tint of jealousy coated my skin like the too-thick sunscreen.
Fourteen-plus days I could've spent with both of them, watching my two worlds collide in a happy harmony rather than the stressed-out dilemma of my abduction.
I tried to push away the thoughts by focusing on Manami's nervous grin. "I have contacts, but they feel so weird. I'm not wearing them now, either, so if I start to wander in the direction of a flock of hungry seagulls or the one shirtless, overweight man eating ice cream, please divert my trajectory."
I gave an affirming salute. "Do you need sunscreen? We have plenty."
"Nope! I doused myself before I came. I have a timer set for when I need to reapply. I burn easily." She patted the plaits around her head. "It's sort of a ginger thing."
Shota sent me a pointed look as if to say See, even she gets it.
I scratched the side of my nose with one particular finger.
"So I have a very important question for you, Manami: Can you help me-Ahck!"
Sharp talons had dug into my vulnerable arm. Shota glanced over, assessed no true danger, and lied back onto his towel, completely encased in the shade of Manami's umbrella.
Green eyes were wide and intent. Primal. I tried to tug my arm free of her violent grasp.
"Manami, what-"
"What is he doing here?" She whispered.
Before I could ask what the hell she was talking about and why the hell she had such sharp nails, the sun became eclipsed by a different type of wild yellow rays.
"Hello again, All Might." Manami breathed.
Shota spit out a mouthful of water, sitting up as he choked.
Toshinori Yagi visibly tensed, eyes shooting between the love-struck, blushing woman and my horrified face.
Her glasses.
She couldn't make out everything, just the towering height and blonde, blonde hair, heat wavering around his silhouette and distorting the differences in size.
But most damningly, Manami Seto had realized who he was in an instant, while I'd still be asking to spin again or buy another vowel, even after all this time.
"You told her?" Toshinori hissed. My head moved in slow motion, mouth mechanical as it opened and closed without eliciting sound. "Chiyo, I understand you trust her, but this was not your secret to tell-"
"Shh! Just stop talking for a second!" How did I salvage this? Should he leave, come back later in the day when I'd found a pair of glasses for Manami to better view the skinny sunflower through? My stomach swirled with sea foam and brine.
Shota watched us with great interest, having recovered from his choking fit to continue the casual sipping of before, perched up on one elbow.
"Told me what?" Poor Manami looked between the three of us, lost.
Toshinori's gaunt face would put the Grim Reaper's to shame. "I know you're still angry with me, but this really is a bit much, don't you think?"
"Please, please stop talking-"
"You've put her life at risk revealing my identity-"
Apparently, Manami had brought her own glasses; during Toshinori and I's bickering she plucked them out of her bag and onto her face, squinting up at the beacon of big-mouthedness with increasing alarm.
"You're- who the hell are you?"
Realization ignited his blue eyes far too late.
Shota crunched into a carrot stick, practically exuberant.
"You hadn't-"
"Of course not."
Manami looked at me now, gears audibly turning. "This is your friend...Toshinori?"
"Yes."
"But I mistook him for All Might."
"You did."
Her clever eyes slid over to his strawberry face, took in his fear-tinged embarrassment in great, merciful stride.
"...What a strange overreaction, for someone clearly too skinny to be the object of our girlhood desires. Hello, Toshinori, I'm Manami Seto. It's nice to finally meet you."
She offered the spot of sand next to her with a friendly smile, though her lips were a little too sly to be exactly human. When he looked away to unfold his own towel Manami slipped the glasses up and down her nose, testing the effect. I wondered how the red-and-white swimsuit he wore impacted the experience.
"It's a nice day. I don't remember the last time I went to the beach like this," Toshinori commented after settling in, leaning back and taking in a faceful of sun. I grinned.
"It's nice, right? Oh- do you need some sunscreen?"
"Hm? Oh, no thank you; I don't burn easy."
My wet hair nearly whipped Manami in the face as I turned towards the pinched-browed man feigning a nap. He refused to face my grin.
"Don't encourage her."
After some time of chatting and dozing in the sun (or, in someone's case, the shadows), Manami mentioned the need to find one of each shell listed on a note card one of her reading classes had given her, demanding souvenirs from her trip. A great sunflower bloomed at the occasion, accompanying her towards the shoreline with animated interest in her book program, peppering her with questions and compliments over her thoughtful heart.
I tried not to overtly ooze love in their direction by hiding my teeth behind one increasingly-tan hand.
"I see what you're doing."
He'd kicked off his sweatpants at some point, revealing a set of toned legs in- of course- jet-black swim trunks. I couldn't even pretend to play dumb with my obvious grin so I rolled over closer, joining him in the shade.
"I'm still greatly wounded she recognized him so easily. It makes me feel...really dumb."
"Well," Shota offered as he brushed sand from my cheek, "You are kind of unobservant."
I scoffed at the very notion. A gleam lightened his eyes and he leaned closer to whisper against my temple; "Your swim top has been untied for a solid twenty minutes now."
I jerked back, hands veiling my chest. Sure enough, the bow had slipped free. I slapped his pale thigh and he let out a hiss.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I just told you-"
"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"
"Manami was the one who pointed it out, but you were drooling away in la la land and didn't hear her- What are you doing?"
I didn't look up, nails gritty with sand. "Burying myself. It's the only logical option."
The grains felt cold against my sun-drenched skin, legs already half a foot deep into the earth. Shota moved into the light to help create an incline for my back, knowing my dedication to this plan probably only applied to my lower half.
"There's something I haven't told you," Now's as good a time as any, I guess. "About my upcoming training week."
"You've changed your mind and All Might will train you instead." He guessed seriously. I rolled my eyes and plopped a wet pile of sand into his lap.
"We won't be training at the school, or his agency," Just say it quickly. "We'll be at the Paradox of Tempus."
Tiny golden specks slipped from his fingers, creation forgotten. I eased back, used my elbows to hold my weight without the completed incline. Even hiding in the shade a bit of a sunburn had already pinked his nose. Didn't scars burn easier? A little tidepool of panic forced me to nab the edge of my towel and pull my bag closer.
"Are you...For a whole week?"
"Yes." I reached out to dab more sunscreen across the jagged crescent beneath his eye. He caught my hand, suddenly pale. "They don't often allow a person or group to use the area for so long, but-"
"Are you insane?"
His grip was beginning to numb my fingers. He noticed my wince and let go, though the tension in his features didn't fade.
He looked like half of a parody, one thick white streak on a single side of his face.
"I'll still be taking breaks and sleeping, but at reduced rates. This is the only way I can become stronger fast enough, Shota,"
I'd never even heard of this place before a few days ago. But spurred by an increasing amount of anxiety and determination, I'd revamped my stalking habits for better uses, scouring the school's database for anything that might help my newly-hatched training plan.
Imagine my surprise to find yet another licensed use of quirks outside of heroism.
The Gemini, alterers of tempus, able to create a time paradox five times slower than the outside world's time frame.
While Shota and the students would be gone for seven days, a total of 120 hours, thirty-five will have passed for me.
840 hours within the Paradox of Tempus.
"Your body will continue aging inside. You'll lose an entire month's worth of time in a matter of days-"
"It won't be lost time- I'll be getting stronger, learning to wield my quirk,"
Indeed, even if the real world only experienced a week's worth of time and aging, I would be affected by the paradox's time frame instead.
I began to carve the sand around my hips, forming the base of a mermaid body. "It's not like I'm sick, or that old. I won't be a granny when I come out or anything."
Shota breathed in through his nose. "An entire month will pass for you in there."
"I know."
His gaze pierced through my scales of sand. I continued to doodle down the length of my legs until I couldn't reach any further. "Will you make me a tail?"
"Why?"
"It's the only thing I can think of to make. Spider legs would be too hard."
"You know what I mean, Chiyo."
Of course I knew what he meant. But how could I answer such a question without taking an entire day to explain? Or worse, ruin our carefree day with the dark hollows in my chest, filled with anxiety and fears like potholes after a rainstorm?
My entire life had been flipped on its head. Every single aspect, from who I thought I was to where I called home. My friends were strong, fierce, but all along contained fractures in their armor I'd only recently begun to notice.
One of my students had almost died in front of me, during a mission to save my life.
Maybe I wasn't a damsel anymore, exactly.
But I wasn't the hero, either.
My legs began to give way to exquisite fins, fanning at the edges, ready to create their own currents. He was rather skilled, drawing lines through the wings, patiently letting me work through the fishnet thrown across my thoughts.
"Hannei- My mom was right, in a way. After the...event, she never trusted or relied on others again. She believed in order to protect what you love, you have to do it yourself, with your own might," But she thought she was alone, not recognizing I was right there with her the whole time. "Even with the brainwashing, I'd never given the idea of using my own power much thought. I didn't have anything to lose, then. I do now."
A squeal drew my attention to the shoreline. A bright burst of fire flailed madly at a dandelion head, clearly terrified of the skeletal remains of a fish he held out on a stick. Even from this distance I could see his complexion darken, quickly flinging the decayed fish back into the ocean. I smiled, but a brush of melancholy tugged at its edges.
"He'll be a target, even when All Might fades from the spotlight."
Shota held my gaze when I turned, all semblance of cheer drained from my features and replaced with dragon glass.
"He's going to need us. All of us."
"So you're doing all this for him?" He returned to my fins, but a smile hid under his bent frame. "Should I be offended?"
"You're beyond help. If Death itself showed up at your door I feel like you'd go willingly, just to get a solid month's sleep."
His laughter sent an electric shock straight into my veins, pumping my heart into a bout of overdrive. I tried not to let the girly love-drunkenness slip out of my pores and directed my attention elsewhere, away from his smiling, too-handsome face.
A flash of skinny ankles and dirty shoelaces struck the opportunity to invade, quieting the honeyed edges of my mind.
"There's another reason, too."
What was I saying? Too late- he was looking at me again, lips still turned on the corners. I tried to wiggle the tail, push myself into the ocean, but no such luck.
Instead I remained trapped, legs caught in the damp sand and beginning to itch.
"There's something I didn't tell the police. About Tomura Shigaraki."
The muscles of his jaw tensed, just a fraction. I squirmed yet again.
"It's...going to be hard for me, moving forward, to trust the police again. Mom blamed Gran Torino and heroes more- probably because of Nana Shimura's death and Kotaro's actions- but they had every opportunity to intervene on her behalf. That, and what I didn't say isn't really founded in provable fact."
"So he didn't do something," Shota said, each word slow. I tilted my head and he clarified, "He didn't physically harm you, or do something in that nature,"
"On the contrary," So maybe there were two little somethings I hadn't mentioned to the police. "You showed up with timing all too perfect; I had just found your note and began to acquire my memories. When the Nomu first reacted, I was already attacking Kurogiri."
"The warp user."
I nodded. "I played it off as being scared, and asked him to take me to Shigaraki. He did, and I-"
Three little somethings.
Shota waited, though I could see the strain in his neck, the tightness where my dimple should be.
Red symbolized a lot of emotions- love, anger, embarrassment, but in this case the color tinting my bones looked more like shame.
"There's something connecting us. I can't- there's no explanation; I have no evidence to make such a claim, but I can feel it."
"What kind of connection?"
Immediately I realized what such an utterance sounded like. I looked up quickly, eyes like saucers. A crack ruptured my beautiful tail as I leaned closer to take his hand in a fierce grip.
"Not that kind of connection. Not like you and me. But- I don't know."
Like a long-forgotten tin-can telephone, rusted and sitting on a windowsill, with no idea where the connected string led to. Like a blurry photograph, with someone standing just out of frame.
"He's made of ash and bone, Shota; I could feel it. I've never met someone so guarded in my life."
I sounded insane. I pulled my hand away, clonked it against my temple. "I'm not making any sense, I'm sorry-"
"If it makes sense to you, that's all that matters."
He'd sealed the crack, put his hands on either side of my hips to finesse my figure one final time. I watched him rise and rummage through my bag for his phone. "You said before his face haunted your nightmares, right?"
"Right. But if he was some suppressed memory, I would've recalled it by now." I recalled everything else, from the first time I'd kissed Shota to Mom's cold hands on my temple, repeating one of her anti-hero mantras until the words had been burnt into my brain. "When you showed up, and a Nomu fell through the wall, he pushed me out of the way."
Shota looked up from the phone in surprise. "He-"
"He saved me."
"And so you want to get stronger to...what, exactly? Save the villain who's tried to kill our students multiple times? Go after him again?"
"No! No, I just-"
I just what? A headache hadn't knocked against my brain in so long, I'd almost forgotten how they felt. I blocked the sun out with my arms.
"Our paths will cross again. I know they will. And I want to be ready."
"Do you think he'll come after you again?"
He had been wild, enraged.
But there had been fear, too.
He could have ended my life, but he'd pushed me to safety.
"I don't know. But according to his master, I didn't have any real use outside of capturing All Might."
"So you're speeding through a month of your life to protect yourself, the people you love, prepare to defend the damsel Toshinori, and in case Tomura Shigaraki decides to pick up on this 'connection'."
I peeked at him from under my arms. "More or less."
He gave the most Aizawa-ish sigh known to man.
But then he was lying beside me, nosing between my locked wrists for the mouth hidden underneath.
"Life was easier when you were a sissy," He murmured between kisses. A laugh bubbled up my throat and I pulled his face closer, kissing the scar beneath his eye.
"Easier, but certainly less exciting."
"Hey- Ew, there are children here, stop," Manami's grinning face betrayed her snide words. Toshinori, though, blushed behind her as if stumbling upon something far more intimate than two adults softly kissing in the sand. Shota rolled onto his back before slinking towards his shadow zone. I sat up and raised my hands, displaying my tail like a game show model. Manami offered me a polite round of applause.
"I see you re-tied your top. That's good."
"I'll be sure to keep a lookout for yours, too. Thanks for the heads-up."
Toshinori resembled a rose far more than his usual sunflower disposition. Ever gracious, I changed the subject; "Did you find all the shells? And, if so, are you ready to take on a new mission?"
"Yes!" Manami held up a bulging linen knapsack before sobering. "And yes."
"So. As you both know, I begin a rigorous training regime this week," I steepled my fingers over my mermaid tail, brows knit with seriousness. "And, seeing we both have water-related quirks, I feel it would be in my best interest to learn the fundamentals of swimming."
Crickets.
I glanced around nervously, noting the whites of even Shota's eyes as they all gaped at me.
"You-"
"You can't possibly not know-"
"You tried to walk across a fucking lake."
"There's no point in making me feel bad now! I wasn't exactly allowed near water, remember?" Their derision was grouching my attitude. I pulled free of my tail and stomped upright. "Shota isn't going to get in the water past his knees, so it's up to you two to teach me. Are you up to the task?"
"You can't possibly be serious," Shota interjected.
"I accept the challenge," Manami said at the same time.
"I'm pleased you trust me enough to help you with this," Toshinori added.
I beamed, arm in arm with my friends, leaving a shocked, pale man like a shucked oyster behind us.
Swimming should come to me easy.
And it might have, if I didn't have one instructor trying to fling me into the raging depths and the other firmly holding one my wrists at all times, too afraid I'd drown on my own to actually let me, you know, try and swim.
"Toshi, you can't hold on to her arm like that- she needs both to move!"
"The current is a little too strong here, don't you think? Maybe we should move closer to the beach-"
"You can still reach the ground here; how could it possibly be dangerous?"
Drowning was starting to sound appetizing, at least in comparison to their constant pseudo-bickering. I sent an aggravated spindle of water to graze Manami's foot. She screamed, fearing a tentacle, and instantly Toshinori forgot my potential disaster to care for the panicking redhead instead.
Low and behold, I sank like a stone.
But, unlike a normal fatality, a bubble of air surrounded my face almost without thought, keeping my oxygen intake going.
Could I pull the oxygen from the water itself? Surely not- the water molecules were what answered my call, spiraling around my limbs, allowing the stillness of before without the fear of actual drowning.
If the ocean, the water itself, was alive, then I was her child, kept safe in her arms.
Until those loving arms were blasted with All Might's panicked transformation, causing an actual undercurrent, rather than the one Toshinori had simply imagined.
I flew back, limbs maneuvering the water to control my trajectory like a real mermaid, but through a quirk rather than a beautiful tail. I slammed into someone anyway, hands finding my waist as I turned, backside to their front. A heartbeat as familiar as my own reached out with the impact.
"What the hell?" I shouted upon resurfacing. Shota pulled me back further still, hair dripped and expression flat. I followed his gaze and my jaw nearly unhinged.
The red and white suit didn't look half as stupid on this beefed up, bulging form.
In fact, it nearly complemented the fox hair on his bicep, where a woman was flushing madly in his arms.
Not because she had needed saving from a sea monster- his transformation was probably due to my sudden escape attempt- but from a mass of psychotic fans, storming the water upon All Might's emergence. They would have trampled her in an instant.
Now, though, with the romantic appearance the two were giving the crowd, Manami might be trampled for an entirely different reason.
"You know," I said casually as we watched the couple try and decide the best route of action, "It was your idea to invite them. So really, I should be questioning your motives."
A snort warmed my ocean-cooled temple. "I think you should be more concerned with your sanity. You asked an overly anxious beanpole and a spark plug to teach you how to swim. Your judgment is beginning to wane, Tsutomi."
Maybe.
Probably.
...Definitely.
Before I could come up with a witty response a set of sea glass eyes spotted me. An accusatory finger jutted in my direction.
"Look! That woman's top is off!"
One day, in the far off future, when we were little old ladies with lives well spent and sitting on some wooden porch sipping sun tea, we would probably cackle like the witches we'd become over this moment.
Now, however, with a crowd of eager eyes bouncing first to my face and then down, down, down, to the arms of my swimsuit top freed from my chest, floating like a lazy octopus on the water's surface, I couldn't imagine a single moment in my life I'd wanted to disappear from more.
Shota sprang to life well before my brain could process a coherent thought, twisting my waist and throwing his arms protectively around me. His lower ribs felt cool against my bare chest. This, for some reason, finally drew me from my stupor.
"Oh." I said dumbly.
"I just want you to remember this the next time you want to spend the day at the beach," He answered.
The crowd gave a uniform shout as All Might shot into the air, creating a tidal wave in his wake. I took the opportunity to fix my top before gripping Shota's forearms, barely able to keep us braced through the current.
Wherever Toshinori disappeared to, he still had Manami in his arms, fiery hair like a comet across the sky.
With All Might's magnificent exit, nobody seemed to recall the topless woman in the arms of a ghost. They dispersed near immediately after the hero took to the skies.
Which left said woman, pink on the edges and still in a mild stupor, able to pull the ghost into her aquamarine sanctuary, peaceful in sound and sensation, lungs still able to breathe so long as she held him close, sharing the space of air around her even under the waves. With the way her hair danced in the water, she didn't need the tail of sand to appear otherworldly.
Her hands were warm on his chest; warmer still were her lips on his, unhurried in their private temple, comforted rather than fearful of the depths.
When she pulled him to the surface laughter filled his ears. She was nearly blinding, grinning and pinching at his ribs, marveling at the expanse of his revealed chest before jumping into his arms like a weightless jellyfish.
Watching the two non-instructors trying to instruct Chiyo Tsutomi on how to swim had caused near-physical pain. A twisted sense of irony recalled an old phrase about jumping off bridges if someone else did.
Apparently he would, in fact, take the plunge, if the person jumping off the bridge happened to be her, and especially so if she had gone ahead with a running start.
Watching her now, cross-legged and dark head resting against the passenger windowsill, totally asleep, he couldn't seem to feel particularly shameful for his choice.
A pothole made itself known and Chiyo jolted upright, naturally wiping at her mouth. She assessed their surroundings quickly.
"You're taking me home, right?"
"Right."
"And then you're going to initiate the operation?"
He held up the tightly-sealed envelope she'd given him earlier. "Yes. But again, you know I'm not a ninja, right? If this involves breaking into anyone's home-"
Too late- her head had fallen back against the seat, regulation rewarding her the fastest sleeping rate possible. Aizawa would kill for such a quirk.
Instead he could only enjoy the sluggish pull of his blood when he lifted her from the car and carried her inside. Nasu and Endo made quick work of surrounding her on the couch. Did her quirk impact them, too?
Safe in the car as she instructed multiple times, he opened the envelope. There were two addresses listed with no indication where either one led.
Already this seemed more exhausting than its worth.
Aizawa considered his options; return to the apartment and bask in her submersive nap which, given their morning and afternoon, would last at least three glorious hours, or follow the obscure addresses to who knows where, to do who knows what, and risk the mystery.
Option one seemed infinitely more ideal.
But option two had glimmered Chiyo's entire body all day like sunlight on the ocean, vibrating her lips with a continuous smile and leaving pink marks on his limbs where she became too excited and smacked him a few painless times. She was doubtlessly terrible at keeping secrets; if one more day had to pass before tonight's surprise, he was sure she would've simply caved in and told him.
And so, ignoring the nagging tiredness and light sunburn spread across his body, the car purred to life and led him to the first address.
A plain-faced man answered the door, blinking up at him kindly.
Shota Aizawa nearly pulled a Tsutomi, tripping over his own damn feet at the sight.
"Hello. Are you Shota Aizawa?"
The pufferfish of jealousy, once so small and docile, inflated defensively in his chest, filling the nearby organs with green poison. He took a step back in surprise, both at himself and the man offering him a bow.
"I'm Seiichi Tanaka. Please, come in."
"No."
What the hell was Chiyo thinking? Had she actually planned this, or was there some sort of mix-up? The puffer glanced in the direction of his lungs next. "I'm sorry, there must have been a mistake-"
"Chiyo said you'd probably react like this. Please, come in. It'll take me a second to get everything ready."
Everything ready? What the hell did that even mean? Regardless of whether Aizawa followed him or not the man moved further into the house, feet shuffling against the floorboards. No wonder she didn't put more information than the address; she knew he'd never agree to coming here.
"There's a sitting room just to your right. Please, make yourself comfortable!"
Make himself comfortable? He was standing in the doorway of his girlfriend's ex-boyfriend's home, a man he had seen flirting with her barely two weeks ago.
Two weeks ago, when Aizawa himself had shown up to try and take Chiyo away, back to her real life, before the League of Villains had shown up and reverted the little store to rubble.
Shit. What had become of that? All Might mentioned something about insurance and hero agencies covering the damage. He'd hardly had the attention span to focus on the details- with Chiyo newly in the hands of Tomura Shigaraki, he couldn't have thought of a single event he could've cared about less than her ex-boyfriend's fucking video store.
Summer heat pressed against his back and filtered through the still-open front door. With great reluctance Aizawa stepped in further, too polite to spike this man's- Seiichi's- electric bill because of his awkward behavior.
The modest house reflected the young male occupant, with board and videos games alike stacked in various bookcases across the living room. A transparent vase the size of a watermelon sat atop a wooden coffee table, filled to the brim with dice in a multitude of sizes and iridescent colors, topped by a pointed hat that had certainly seen better days. A cluster of soda cans busied the end tables, reminding the intruder of another person with a similar habit.
Seiichi's footfalls drew Aizawa's attention towards the doorway. Hazel eyes blinked in surprise, as if having thought himself a silent walker.
"I'm assuming you don't know why you're here?"
Aizawa couldn't fathom a single logical reason why he would be. The fact Seiichi did know irked him more than he let on. "Afraid not."
Seiichi nodded, tentatively repositioning the dice vase in order to slide a cardboard box onto the table. Sweat lightly glistened near his hairline.
"I don't know how much I'm supposed to tell you, but it'll be pretty obvious when I get the other item from the attic." He gave the current box a pat. "I'd forgotten she had this up there until she texted me about it."
A direct hit, ebbing a poison far more potent than cyanide into his marrow. Seiichi didn't seem to catch the twitch in Aizawa's face, already shuffling back down the hallway.
If she had items in his house- If he still had those items-
"Would you mind helping me? I'm- ha- I'm not really the physical type, and these are a little heavier than I expected-"
"Sure."
He moved unwillingly down the hallway, following the reddish-brown head before it disappeared up a pull-out ladder. Aizawa considered seizing the opportunity and simply leaving, but Chiyo would figure it out.
After all, Seiichi still had her number. Apparently.
"Do you live here alone?" Why was he trying to make small talk? He placed his foot on the bottom rung just to give himself something to do. The sound of rummaging bounced into the hallway from above.
"My folks died a while back and left the house to me. I'm considering boarding out one of the rooms, though." A particularly loud crash, followed by a series of bodily assurances. "I have a, er, a league I hold once a week, and one of my buddies is looking to move out of his mom's place,"
Had there been a fellow boarder before? Namely, one with an affinity for ridiculous hair bows and a seemingly innocent disposition?
"Chiyo never lived here, if that's what you're wondering."
Of course that's what he was wondering. He made no comment anyway, just before a box appeared from the mouth of the hole. Aizawa took it from the struggling Seiichi and put a healthy space between them as he clambered back down the ladder. Again Seiichi looked surprised before a smile turned him sheepish.
"Wow. You don't even have to strain to lift that, huh? I'm starting to see why Chiyo's with you."
Seiichi laughed at his stricken expression before raising his hands in mock surrender. "Kidding! Sorry, that was mean. This is probably really uncomfortable for you already. Here, let me show you how the pieces connect and then you'll be outta here, okay?"
It was like he'd stepped into some distorted version of the horror film, but instead of a nightmarish rendezvous with his lover's tough, vengeful ex-boyfriend, a mix-up in scripts delivered him a Winnie the Pooh character.
Seiichi already had the first box's contents spread across the table when Aizawa entered the room, fiddling with a metal contraption and mumbling to himself about shutters and light bulbs. Seiichi gave him a friendly smile upon bringing over the second box.
"Thanks. Okay, so I drew a little guide- Chiyo will probably know what to do better than I do, since she was always better at this kind of thing-"
Together, the two boxes offered enough bits and pieces to satisfy Seiichi into believing all the parts were in order. There was a clear label on one box's edge, spelling out Chiyo Tsutomi in lopsided print.
"-And that's about it! Do you have any questions?"
Yes. An ocean full- most of which neither man would particularly enjoy.
"No."
Seiichi beamed knowingly, as if able to read him as easily as Chiyo could. He held up his hands once again, looking bashful.
"I don't want you to get the wrong idea, Mr. Aizawa. This is a Tsutomi scheme if I ever saw one, to send you here without so much as an explanation."
"Did she...Do this sort of thing to you?"
Why would I ask him that? Why? Aizawa silently raged at himself, even as Seiichi sent him another knowing smile.
"Only once. She planned out a sort of scavenger hunt but I couldn't solve her clues, so she ended up eating alone at a Casablanca-themed restaurant and I waited outside her apartment for most of the night. She didn't seem upset, but I know I failed her. After that we went back to our normal routine."
He didn't seem particularly upset about it, either. The idea of a younger, excited Chiyo sitting alone in a nice dress, surrounded by strangers and waiting for her significant other all night roiled Aizawa's stomach.
The comments she had made about their relationship now made a little more sense and the pufferfish deflated, just slightly. Seiichi handed him the directions before standing.
"I'll help you carry these to your car."
The sun was beginning to set; two hours from now and the sky would only be illuminated by starlight. They slid both boxes into his backseat, one of the men huffing with the effort.
"Thank you. I apologize for the way I spoke to you, before," Aizawa gave a slight bow; one Seiichi waved off quickly.
"Please, I can't imagine what was going through your mind when you got here. I'm just glad Chiyo's found someone to take care of her-"
"She isn't a child; I don't take care of her," Aizawa cut in without a thought, emotion running quicker than his rationality. The man startled at his tone and a dark head bowed in awkward apology. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"
"No! No, you're right; please, forgive me for making such a boneheaded comment to begin with." Seiichi shifted his weight from one foot to the other, but another thoughtful smile lightened his face.
"I- We weren't meant to be. I know that. It just took me a little longer to understand than it did for her. But I could see her being happy, with someone like you. So thank you." He raised his hands one final time, stopping the other man from interrupting. "She said you were a really nice enough guy. I think there's probably some inside joke there for you to pick up on, so make of that what you will."
A hand, freckled and soft, rose between them. The metaphorical hand-off wasn't something Aizawa particularly liked, but he shook Seiichi's hand anyway, at the very least considerate of the man's amiable behavior.
Seiichi waved until Aizawa turned out of sight, smile just as friendly as when he arrived.
The next address was nearly ten miles away.
Luckily, a certain blonde, law-abiding pro hero was nowhere in sight when Aizawa pulled out his phone to send a quick text to the woman waiting for him at home.
Strike two.
Author's Note: Chiyo told Shota that Seiichi was "nice enough" back in chapter thirty-five, when first revealing her previous relationships. She told Seiichi Shota was "really nice [enough]" as an upgrade.
*hissy laughter*
I hope you enjoyed this chapter! It was a long one, but I very much enjoyed writing it. Thank you for all the follows, favorites, and reviews.
