They say the more trauma you experience, the tougher your skin becomes.
Heartbreak, loss, tragedy- added like dragon scales, leathering the wear and tear of life, enabling one to walk through fire.
I'd had plenty of practice in these elements.

What they fail to mention is the weight of those scales, and at what cost one pays to keep them secured.

"Please read and sign at the bottom of the second page."

Because with every blow they deflect their sharp corners dig just a little deeper into the skin, seeping liquid memory back into the wearer's vision.

"Empty your pockets and place your shoes in the bin, then walk forward."

Before, my mind had been clouded by desiccation.
Now it was the past I thought I had known, eddied with the reality of the present, that plagued me like a miasma.

Each use of outward submersion drew them like poison- both of good, happy memories, of laughter and skinned knees and ice cream at midnight, as well as the sour-edged nightmares made real by my newly-freed mind.

Of her cold hands and terrified face, reforming my brain like an Etch A Sketch.

I love her.
I hate her.
I want to protect her.
I fear her.

"There are cameras within the sitting area. If anything goes awry, intervention will be immediate."

Sakamata granted me two hours outside the Paradox; two hours to locate Hannei Tsutomi's new residency- a psychiatric hospital specializing in quirk-related trauma- make an appointment, and drive over.

I didn't even know what day it was. There was no time to run home, call Shota to check in. I didn't even have time to change clothes, let alone allow self consciousness to demand my hair be washed and face fixed with makeup.

The waiting room radiated a calming aura, but nothing could ever fully mask the chilled antiseptic smell of a hospital. My nervous sweat frosted in the overbearing air conditioning. I readjusted the waist of my leggings just to give my hands something to do.

"Miss Tsutomi? She's ready."

I hadn't seen her since the day I left with Tomura Shigaraki. The day she reached out for my hand one final time, eyes full of fear but determined in their deceitful action.
Weeks had passed since then- both in real time and extra days for me, in the distorting Paradox. How many weeks? Three? Four?

I had shoved this eventuality, of seeing- facing- her again deep into my subconscious, abandoned for another day.

But I couldn't put this off any longer. So long as she appeared in my mind, filled my blood with muddied emotions and memories, Submersion would never be mine to fully wield.
But more than that.
She had been the face I turned to when I needed assurance, the arms that had carried me when I couldn't take another step.
She was my mom.

The nurse seemed to pick up on my hollowing breath, steps slow, giving me opportunity to change my mind. I clenched my fists and carried on until we reached a windowed door.

I could almost imagine how she must've looked to Kotaro, buried underneath the water, as I looked at her now.
Skin like moonlight, gossamer hair surrounding her thinned shoulders like a ghostly veil. My heart jumped into my mouth, uncaged without regulation.
She was so skinny.
Her face was turned to look out the nearby window, expression vacant, though her hands worried themselves in her lap. She wore a dress I didn't recognize, loose around her body in either a style I didn't recognize or because of her weight loss. I was just glad to see they didn't make her wear a uniform of some sort.

This isn't the nineteenth century, Chiyo. Get a grip.

The amber glaze of her eyes suddenly rose as if sensing me. An icy sensation pierced my chest but didn't forfeit my ground.
She moved to stand but then second guessed herself, clasping her hands tightly in front of her, watching the nurse lead me into the room with a key card.
My mouth opened. No words appeared, stolen by fear and longing and love and anger. I swallowed each emotion like pills without water. You're okay. It's okay. This is what you expected. We're okay.

But I wasn't. Not at all.

"Mom."
Had she always looked so fragile?

"Chiyo," Even her voice sounded different, thin as an egg's shell. "It- It's so good to see you, honey."

I didn't- couldn't- trust myself to speak again. Crystal watered her eyes. The sitting room, much like the waiting area, had been made to appear homey, with plush chairs and couches, lamps and end tables everywhere, all with rounded edges.
I lowered myself onto the one wooden, cushionless chair, yearning for the solidness. She didn't move from her spot halfway across the room.

For a moment, we simply existed.
Watched each other, like the staff who were probably watching us, right now, through some lens or another.

And here I thought Sakamata had beaten all the nerves out of me already.
I tightened every muscle until the trembling became nothing but an undercurrent.

Mom. My mom. The overzealous, cheerful, blunt, overbearing mother, cracked open like an autumn chestnut, revealing the vulnerable innards ripe for the ravens.

"I know...that you probably have a lot of questions-"
"Just one."

Hannei Tsutomi- Kishi Otani- looked at me with such familiar eyes my lungs almost collapsed. I kept the mask tied tight, looked through with cool indifference despite my wavering heart.

"Do you regret it?"

The lying.
The manipulation.
Her cold hands on my temple.
It all came down to this, for me. The only question that demanded an answer in order for me to accept anything, hold onto the sphere of memories, both wonderful and terrifying, before it shattered irreversibly against the ground.

And once shattered, there would be no return.

I could hear the wind of her breath. Slow. Shallow. I counted the ticks of her heart like a quickened metronome.
"If you had asked me a few weeks ago, I would have said no, I didn't regret what I did to you," Her eyes slid from mine to her pale hands, turning them over to examine the palms.

Palms I had held, with creases I could trace out from memory alone.

"But then I came...here. And I realized what I did- what I thought I had done in love- that wasn't love."

Saltwater limned her cheeks with silver. I breathed in a silent breath, allowed my heart to race without guard. Shota's ribs kept it from bursting onto the floor in an anguished heap of blood and sorrow.

"I allowed a moment in my life to be the architect of yours. I am- I will forever be trying to compensate for my sins, but I was so lost; I didn't know what to do, or how to keep you safe. You are my entire world, Chiyo. I would have found a way to extinguish the sun, if I thought it would keep you from burning."

'How many times can you face the sun until you fade to ash?'

How many times had she tried? When had she lost herself in the blinding fire?
She thought I was abandoning her. That I had come here for one final good-bye, her eyes widening in fear and with enough sadness to drown a valley.

Her hair smelled as I remembered, of warmth and spice, ticklish against my toughened skin.
My porcelain mother, who had hidden her fractures, alone, for far too long.

"Mom." Was all I could choke out.
Arms wrapped back around me at the sound of her name. She felt the same and altogether different, like a childhood toy worn threadbare after too many years of life.

"It's okay. Mom, I'm here."

She wept. Somewhere down the line our roles had reversed. I smoothed her hair as I had been taught, held her as she had held me all those years, waiting out the storm.

Forgiveness was a process, yielding fruit only after time and nurturing. I couldn't say I forgave her- not yet.
But some day, our broken edges would no longer define us.

"You feel- look at you," She laughed despite herself, despite the messiness of her dribbled, mascara-bled face. "Chiyo, you've changed."

"I should hope so."

Mom blinked as if taken off guard. My lips twitched with a nervous smile.
"I've been through a lot- we both have," I glanced down and tried to imagine what I must look like to her, to the woman who had only seen me as something needing protection for so long. "I've been training with a professional hero these past few days. I'm learning to use my quirk and how to defend myself, and protect others. Like you."
"Chiyo, you don't-"
"I know everything, Mom. I know about Kotaro, and Nana Shimura. I know what happened to you- us," I took her warm hands firmly in mine. "I know this probably frightens you. It is frightening. But I can't run away or hide. Not when I have the power to help others."

I could feel her fear. It sank into me like an anchor, beating against every vertebrae of my spine. But even with the blood-curdling terror she said nothing, submitting to my own personal will for the first time. A sigh eased from my heart.

"Are they treating you okay here?"
"Yes. I'm very lucky to be somewhere with such kind staff and doctors," Mom pulled away to carefully wipe at her make-up. A glimmer of her old, prissy self poked through with the gesture.
"They're not making you say that though, right?" I gave a purposeful squint around the room. She laughed.
"No."
"The hero who helped fabricate your new identity has forcibly paid for everything, regardless of our desires. So if there are any extra services available, take them. All of them."

A moth of memory, laced in fear, crossed through her eyes at the mention of Gran Torino, and anger singed me all over again.
Another battle I would have to fight, but could certainly wait for another time.
Maybe with Shota as back-up; to either stop me from attempted murder or to act as an accomplice, I wasn't sure yet.

The more we talked the more Mom- my mom, the Mom I wanted and did truly remember- returned, though with a new quiet softness I wasn't sure would ever fade, after everything that had happened.

"You didn't bring Shota?"

Ah, there she is.

"Shota's off on a school trip. I'll see him Monday."
Her brow furrowed. "It's only Wednesday, honey. Nearly a full week is a long time to be away from one another."
You have no idea, Mom. I let out a resigned chuckle. "Honestly, it feels even longer than just a week."

That dopey look I was always getting made fun of for honeyed her face. I tried not to grimace at the family resemblance.

"Ah, to be young and in love-"
"Mom, no. Stop this at once."
She sniffed, eyes slyly looking away. "I didn't say anything. In here, I haven't been able to contact many people; I'm sure Yua and Akari would like updates on the marriage status-"

A vase of summer blooms combusted on a nearby table. I jumped from my chair, florid face breaking into a nervous sweat.

"Sorry- Sorry!" I waved my hands around, unsure where the cameras might be. Mom watched me curiously. "I did that! I can pay for it!"
"He's the one who came to me, you know."

That drew my attention. Mom continued her gaze, though the gentle happiness of earlier had faded to a soft undercurrent.

"I thought I had lost you, permanently. And I had no one to blame but myself. When he came here, though, I realized there was still hope." She shook her head. "None of them understood. I didn't care what happened to me; nothing they could threaten was worse than what I'd already allowed to occur. But when I saw his face, it was like looking into a mirror."

Who suffered worse- the runaway, or the people she left behind? I slid onto the couch beside Mom. She gave me a weak smile.

"I'd known since the day in the park, before I interrupted. Men...They don't look at women the way he looked at you, Chiyo. Most men, anyway. Out of all my damning actions, taking him away from you might have been one of the worst."

"Yeah, well," I tried to hide the stupid blush crawling into my face. "We found our way back to each other. No harm, no foul."
Mom bowed her head, though not in agreement. I leaned over until my own temple brushed hers.
"I have to get back to training now. But I'll come visit soon, okay?"
"I love you, Chi-chan."

This time my smile wasn't forced, buttered on the edges by the familiarity of her face, and the way I still believed every word of that statement.

She wasn't allowed to leave the visitation area until a staff member showed up to escort her. Mom hugged me with growing strength, but nowhere near the caliber I was used to.

An easy fix, I realized with a sigh.

"Shota asked me to move in with him."

She nearly broke my fucking neck.

Two nurses rushed in at the sound of screaming, panicked and wielding medication until recognizing the signs of a simply-ecstatic mother, tearfully strangling the life out of her daughter in sheer, unadulterated happiness, laughter practically maniacal in its maternal glee.


My phone sat as the supreme tempest, innocently buzzing with a text message in the cup holder. I turned the radio up higher to drown out the sound. Sakamata had been gracious enough to give me this time; I wouldn't waste a single moment.

The relaxed of the two Gemini met me at the door, blithely laying across a front counter and hopping up upon my entrance. Her grin seemed a little more severe than usual. I shot her a look but didn't slow my pace.

"He got it."
"Got what?" I sniffed under my arm. I really wish I had time for a quick shower.
"Your costume."

I stopped abruptly. Gemini's grin grew two giddy inches.

After our most violent sparring to date, Sakamata had instructed me to formulate a design to accommodate my new style of fighting. I'd doodled something out of a daydream in my notebook; I hadn't thought he meant it seriously.

"That- what are you talking about? I don't have a license," A lick of panic slimed my brain. "There's no way I can afford something fit for a-"
"The expenses were covered by UA. Stop being such a worry wart."

Shit. Did that mean it came out of my salary? How much did a hero costume run? More than a single paycheck, no doubt.

"Ah, you've returned."
I still couldn't believe someone so large could move around as silent as he did. I fell into a bow as I turned.
"Thank you for allowing me this time outside of training-"

Sakamata waved off my words with one sharp-fingered hand. "If such an event has led to an increase in your abilities, then it was well worth the time."

"We won't know until I try," I had a feeling clearing the air with Mom would have an impact, though. A dollop of excitement topped my conviction like a cherry. "Should we move to the main arena?"

"I sent your designs to UA as soon as you finished them, before break. Your suit should be ready within ten days."
"Oh." Wow. Ten days in here, or in the outside world? "Thank you, sir."
"UA will cover the expenses of the creation, since a few overzealous support students always frequent the shop over the summer. I look forward to viewing their handiwork."

Were there students I'd recognize, working on my outfit? Would they know who it was for?

I startled when Sakamata's hand fell onto my shoulder. Like his quiet skulking, I'd also never grow accustomed to that fish-bone smile.

"Now, guppy, let's see the extent of your revitalized power."


I still got thrashed and someone should probably pay the Paradox medics double for the amount of ruptured veins and broken bones they consistently had to mend, but there was a clear, powerful difference in my abilities.

By letting go, I had gained control.

The plaque of memories no longer sullied my mind when I took hold of the water, wielded it like an extension of myself. Submersing into presences, hardening liquid around my limbs to take them further, move them faster, proved hardly more difficult than a routine workout.

In the face of someone with Gang Orca's deadly strength, I could utilize submersion for agility and speed, pinpoint prime opportunities with a clear, concise conscience and limit forceful strikes to an effective handful, rather than continuously blowing out all my energy.

"What separates heroes from villains?" Gang Orca roared from the undercurrents Submersion lost him in. "What makes us different?"

"Control." He shot a hypersonic wave; I surrounded myself in a dome of water, steadied myself through the attack. "Abidance to law. Putting the needs of others and society before our own selfish desires."

"Control, huh?"
He surfaced, sunken eyes staring down at me when I hardened the water, eliminating his escape.

"Controlling our desires, our emotions, allows us to recognize our duties to heroism and the greater good of society, but those very emotions are what often drive us to begin with. What drives you, guppy?"

Protecting those I love. Being there for Toshinori, when All Might fails.

I didn't even feel the fist that slammed into my jaw, grinning through the blood hissing through my teeth. Sakamata wavered; I struck, rivets of hardened water forming on every knuckle, violent enough to pierce his rubbered skin.

"Ha!" Kugo Sakamata didn't seem to realize how sarcastic and borderline sinister most of his emotional responses relayed to the average person. "Look at you, finally breaking through that mental barrier!"

I tried to see his words as a compliment, even as he shot at me with enough force to give All Might a run for his money.

"Have you thought any more of a chosen name?"

We continued to spar, quickly and ruthlessly, as I tried to come up with an answer, but a hiccup in concentration often meant a snapped limb on my part.

During our last miniature break I'd been taken by surprise when he'd inquired about a hero name. I recalled the excitement the hero course kids displayed when they chose their names and tried to muster the same reaction, but it was hard when I had no idea what I even wanted to be known for.
Whiteout had come to mind but that seemed so silly and childish now, after the grueling training and dedication I'd put in, building myself into something at least semi-deserving of a good title. Something water-based, I figured.
But what?

Every dive, step, and streak across the water pinged my submersed brain like sonar; I parried his upcoming attack, only to be whipped by his dorsal fin so severely a rib cracked upon impact.

The pool accepted me with loving arms. I allowed myself to sink, still distracted by the idea of a name.

Gang Orca knew better than to assume my defeat, swimming in deft circles around my slowly-falling body like the apex predator he was. My unbound hair floated in waves around me, absorbing all color like a death cloud. He wouldn't be able to tell whether I was unconscious- not with the obscuring veil between us.

While hair in itself doesn't contain water like skin or bone, each tendril has a certain level of porosity- it could hold water.
The way mine moved after rainfall; how it seemed to writhe around my shoulders.

Why hadn't I thought of this before?

The minutes were ticking down. Sakamata became nervous- I wasn't acclimated to such long periods under the water as he was, even with our lung capacity training.

He drew nearer, parting the curtains with gentle hands.

My hair responded, wrapping like tentacles around his wrists, his arms, sliding around his neck like a noose. He let out a cry of surprise before I tightened my hold.

Note to self: cancel all future hair trims.

"Surrender!"

Even if my grip wasn't tight enough, the fact that my body was so close to his would surely make him squirm; a minnow wouldn't even be able to swim between us like this. As expected Sakamata tried to jerk away, only to find the knots of hair drawing me with him, further tightening the bindings.

A wave of bubbles blew across my face, black claws rising in defeat.

"Well done."

The fact he never actually surrendered and always found similar phrases- ones far less satisfying than the utterance he beat out of me- never slipped my attention.

"I think- I know- maybe a good name," I panted, flopping like a dying fish onto the concrete. The iron taste of blood dampened my lips. Where was that medic? "You have to tell me upfront if it's stupid though, okay?"

Two knotholes watched me from the water's surface, still submerged from the mouth down.
Apparently the physical closeness had annoyed him much more than I'd assumed it would.

"I'm listening."

I sat up, cross-legged, wincing through the pain as my excitement sputtered to life. "Okay. So. After you knocked me into the water, I was watching my hair float around and was reminded of those jellyfish with the long, thin tentacles- the ones that are nearly see-through and seem harmless, but actually swim and are extremely dangerous-"

"Commonly known as box jellyfish," Sakamta offered. I nodded like a nibbled bobber.
"But what's their genus?"
"Chironex Fleckeri."

Chironex. I bit my lip, busied myself with drying out my hair so he wouldn't see the trepidation commingling my features. "Since my name is Chiyo, I thought, maybe-"

"Chiyonex."

Sakamata at last forgave me, a slow smile turning his dolphin face almost pleasant. For the first time since I'd last seen Shota Aizawa, I felt a blush trickle into my cheeks. I tapped one nervous leg against the wet pavement.

"Do you think that's stupid?"
"Shall you pronounce the ch, as in Chiyo, or the hard k sound, as in Chironex?"
"What do you think?"
Sakamata shook his head. "This is your name. It is up to you to decide."

I watched him slip effortlessly from the pool, ushering over a medic I hadn't noticed in my clouded vision. The healing didn't fatigue me like Recovery Girl's, but the experience was more painful, like a thousand boiled needles stitching the wounds back together. To remind me not to take damage in the first place, according to Sakamata.

"I've already altered the word, so I might as well at least keep the pronunciation closer to the original." I gave a single nod. "Hard k, then."

"Very well, then. The Aqueous Hero: Chiyonex."

Oh.

I did like the way that sounded.

A sharp row of teeth smirked before he rose to his feet. I took the smooth hand he offered.

"Come then, hero. I have a few written scenarios for you to tackle."

Apparently gaining a heroic title didn't mean jack when it came to Gang Orca's endless training lectures.

But with my conscience cleared, a name picked out, and a suit on the way, I couldn't deny my growing excitement, amassing like a school of glimmering mackerel in my chest.

When I next stepped out of the Paradox, I would be ready.


Author's Note: Remote learning has kind of zapped me of energy, and I fall into these stages of self doubt and insecurity, and just...yeah. Thank you tremendously to the encouraging reviews left by some over the past couple of weeks; you are literally why I returned. See you next week! (Hopefully. Maybe. Probably.)
Chironex Fleckeri is real- I didn't make that up for this story (also known as the Sea Wasp!). I'd imagine Gang Orca peppers Chiyo with a lot of nautical Did You Knows during their time together, so the writing was already on the wall when she realized this connection.