All Might's career as a hero was over.
Instead he would focus on teaching and training the next generation of heroes to take over his mantle- if such a thing was even possible.

I stood, polite and smiling, supporting my friend as he admitted what hurt him the most; no longer was he the protector of all- but the one who needed protecting the most. The never-ending week for me disappeared in a blink of an eye for Toshinori until today, at this- his- final press conference.

Media outlets continued to seek every bloody morsel their seedy noses could scent, plastering my face on tabloids focusing on everything from my supposed relationship with All Might to whether or not I used a chork. Some more gracious titles acclaimed my "hero premiere" and analyzed my quick acting and powerful defensive strategy. Others cobbled together tidbits of the evacuation rescue for tv; a bittersweet note, as I would've liked to keep that aspect of Submersion private for potential infiltration missions in the future.
I couldn't walk down a sidewalk without glances in my direction. People I'd never seen before greeted me like an old friend, touching my shoulders without warrant, pulling phones and cameras out of pockets like hidden weapons. At least no one had made a stupid Halloween mask of my face yet; hopefully I'd be a quiet blip on the radar by then. Surely.

A week had passed of Shota and I living in the same space, suspended on floors of eggshell.
What had been so easy before now felt edged in brick; an uncomfortable silence grew between us that I couldn't bridge on my own, lungs drowning in quiet anger.

At the sight of reporters he'd released me, left me to fend for myself.
Because he was an enigma; a hero of few words, and even fewer appearances. Tying himself to me would only bring attention to him.

And so I went grocery shopping alone.
I carried out errands alone.
The nearby park could hold a curious camera or too-eager fan, so I also jogged alone, too.
I smiled and stood like a lone knight, answered too-personal questions, couldn't explain why I wouldn't confirm being All Might's lover but was clearly seeing someone- a person I couldn't name, who I was never seen with. A bubble of expectation seemed to grow within me after every encounter; I should've said this, not that. I should've stood taller. What if they find out about all my real problems?

Standing beside Toshinori now, lips aching from smiling- by Cementoss's chapped ass, how had he dealt with this sort of attention for so long?- I could see just how easy it would be for people to assume our relationship- he was there for me when I needed him, and I was there for him. No one questioned whether we were fond of one another; it was self-evident, written in the comfortableness between our posture.
Toshinori held some power over the media; when we took up a morning walk routine the cameras only glowed from afar, rather than pressing into us like rain. They flashed their silent witnessing when he told horrible, accidental puns that reduced me to tears but never drew closer, even if curious over our conversations. Respect for All Might, I suppose, kept them at bay. Those articles were often kinder, with cringe-worthy titles like "Never a Fight in their Domestic Life!", completely unaware of my own hypocrisy.

After Shota and I fought, I'd ran until my feet bled- and then kept running.

You've grown too attached to kids who don't belong to you.

Even if he hadn't meant it like that, targeting the unclosed wound in my abdomen, we both heard its echo. The same numbness returned from earlier that day, razor sharp at the edges, demanding attention. I was embarrassed. Ashamed, for more reasons than one. But also angry.
Because these were the words of a Shota Aizawa I'd known long ago; defensive, with unbreachable walls, believing me too weak to handle whatever he hid inside, thinking his distancing was somehow more merciful.
The embarrassment kept me from knocking on the drawn-up bridge, the anger filling my hands with stones.
Subermsion's potential for regulation beckoned like a light at the end of a narrowing tunnel, whispered sweet peace against my harried pulse. But I hadn't fallen prey yet; I could manage on my own. I had to manage on my own.

Shota felt guilty, I suppose, as small peace offerings began appearing; letting me use the shower first every time the idea struck us simultaneously, a home-cooked meal without prompting, an entire twelve-pack of my favorite soda suddenly appearing in the fridge.

But he never apologized.

Poison licked my heart. It jumped in reaction, moved my hand towards Toshinori's as if to shield itself from the invisible pain.
A thousand cicadas memorialized the moment, played in time with echoing applause and shrill cheers.
I gave them three good seconds before jerking Toshinori down the stairs towards freedom.

"Are you coming with us to inform the parents of the new dorms?" His dandelion head bounced with my quickened steps. I breathed normally only upon vacating the building- a back exit, cleverly depositing us onto a quiet side street. Toshinori offered his water bottle. I sucked the contents down in three long swallows.

"No, I promised Gang Orca I would help him with- something," I answered, becoming vague. Were the aquarium lectures secret?
Kugo must have acquired my phone number some way or another; a long, formal text message had appeared from an unknown contact two days ago, requesting my "distinguished assistance" in the "procurement of young minds" for "oceanic conservation."
Unsurprisingly, the past two days had been spent re-coaching the grim-faced fish on kid-friendly terminology and what facts not to share with a group of ten year-olds.

Toshi nodded along, unbothered by my secrecy.
"Ah, well. I'm glad to see you've fostered a friendship with Sakamata. I feared his mentality might have been a little too…"
"Killer?" I joked. Toshinori grinned, raising his hands in feigned innocence.
"Your word, not mine."
"I'll try not to mention your agreement when I see him later," My keys rattled out of my bag. "Do you need a ride?"
"A driver is actually picking Aizawa and I up. Would you mind if I carpooled with you? That'd make one less trip for the driver."

The last time Toshinori was over he'd nearly knocked me through a wall, panicking when I sussed out his All-Mighty wound.
Right before I realized I was in love with Shota, and then promptly abducted by my own mother.

I tried to push down the queasiness now lining my stomach. "Of course."

The drive couldn't have been more awkward even if Midnight sat topless in the backseat with two howler monkeys and a bottle of tequila. Or that fire-faced Endeavor and solemn little Todoroki, burning the air with tension and literal flames.
Toshinori asked if I enjoyed living with Aizawa. I tried to compose an answer that didn't both sound insensitive or give away the tangible animosity hanging between us.

He thought I was an idiot for ever sticking my neck out, attaching myself to Toshinori.
I in turn thought he was being a clueless jackass, wishing he'd see I was making up every move as I went, standing alone in front of a crowd of hyenas.
Toshinori was busy with his ending career. Manami was chest-deep in her summer reading program.
And I was either a prisoner at home or accompanied by reporters, curious over why I never bought tampons.

"I'm sorry they're still harking on you over our 'relationship'," The skeleton put extra emphasis on the last word, then blushed at my dry look.
"It's not your fault, don't worry about it."
"I can't help but notice in your interview answers, you...don't seem to deny it."

The radio filled the quiet of the car.

"Is not doing so your attempt to keep the press off your scent?"
He might look different, but All Might's intuition was as keen as ever.

I never agreed nor denied the falsified intimacy with the world's symbol of peace; the mystery surrounding the situation kept them distracted from both my easily-misconstrued attempt to save Tomura Shigaraki and my real love life.

"If it makes you uncomfortable, I can clarify,"
He looked surprised- had his comment just been a hunch?
"Aizawa has no interest in being connected to me publicly and, while no information has leaked about my defense of Shigaraki, I want to keep their attention elsewhere until I become old news."

"Honestly, there are benefits for me, too," Toshinori scratched his crispy hair with yet another sheepish blush. "Nothing sells like romance, so there hasn't been as many headlines analyzing my 'New Look' than there could've been. But Aizawa...doesn't he mind?"

Wouldn't know, our communication these days involves cold shoulders and single-word responses. "He understands my line of thinking." I imitated a certain fox's slyness. "And don't worry about you-know-who; I ran the whole plan by her first, so you're safe to still ask her out, now that you're a free man."

"Wh-what? Who?" Toshinori's voice cracked up an octave. "I don't- if you're referring to Manami, I- nothing of that nature, just- I'm interested in her public work with the youth-"
"Mm."
Toshinori rattled like a wind chime, too nervous for his own good.

"She looked pretty cozy in your arms at the beach two weeks ago." Was it really just two weeks ago? Out here it was, anyway.
Toshi's deflation was so severe I didn't even need to take my eyes from the road. "If you're worried about your appearance, don't be. Manami isn't like that."
"I'm a far cry from the posters you had as school kids, though," He covered his face with one bony paw. "God, that made me sound so old."

"Again, you shouldn't worry about it. Women mature faster. A lot faster," I muttered the last bit to myself, eyes the vehicle next to mine upon parking. A layer of dust practically coated Shota's car from the week-long neglect.
My driver's door yelped at a too-forceful shutting. I only felt mild guilt, two blue eyes watching me tentatively as I led him towards the apartment.

"So, who goes to bed first?" Toshinori continued his line of curious small talk. Maybe to get an idea for the future?
"We go around the same time, I guess."
"Who does most of the housework?"
"Um, well, we have certain chores we do. So I suppose neither of us?"
"Who says 'I love you' first?"
I dropped my keys, cursing as I quickly picked them back up. His looming shadow practically grinned at me, too. "Take your shoes off on the mat."
"Of course."

A black thundercloud greeted us with a noisy meow- Nasu's appel. On cue an ashen bundle hurried into the room, white-tipped tail high in the air.

"Wow, she's still so little! Hiro is at least twice her size-"
"You named your cat Hiro?"
His face singed at the question. At least he used the name spelling.

"This place doesn't look much different since you moved in; I expected a more feminine touch by now."

"Do I seem the trophy-wife type, spending my day online shopping for the cutest mantle accessories?" I snorted, picking out a new pair of shoes for the aquarium. Buttery petals shook with his chuckle.

"No, but in the two hours you were at my apartment you rearranged half my shelves, complained about my lack of plant life, and commanded me to buy "real food" before you came over again."

I turned, having forgotten all those little details from when I went over to tell him- the first person- about Manami Seto and my quirk aversion. It felt like a lifetime ago. Now, with the truth about myself unveiled, I really only remembered pigging out on greasy food and the way he'd smiled at me when I submersed into the water, the sunshine smell of his hair.

"Well, did you?"
Shota leaned casually against the hallway entrance, face like pale granite. My shoes made a racket against the floor as they fell from my startled hands. Toshinori leaned down to retrieve them. "Did I what?" He asked.

"Buy real food before Chiyo came over," Shota clarified simply, then added, "Again."

"It was a long time ago," I tried to explain- no more understandable than the color warming my cheeks. What the hell was wrong with me? But more importantly, where did Shota get off eavesdropping and throwing down such clear, disapproving judgment? I didn't need to defend or excuse my behavior. I turned to him in a medley of emotion.
He'd pulled his hair back. If I wasn't so angry I might've stopped to appreciate his formal attire.

Instead my features shifted into autogear, slid into the usual neutral-polite I'd honed so well these past few days. "Toshinori said a driver was picking you up? It's nearly time; probably best to wait out front."

Why was I doing this? Why couldn't I just tell him how I felt, rather than keep pushing him away?
I'm lonely, you idiot, my mind shouted at his. I'm lonely and nervous and miss you.
If he'd just look at me- if he looked at me right now, with anything more than passive indifference, I would say it; the confession already sat on the tip of my tongue.

Shota walked right past me, shoes already on and out the door like a silent poltergeist.

Toshinori stood like a scarecrow in too large an outfit.
"You two seem to be-"
"We're fine," My answer came too quick to be genuine. I swallowed the wavering emotion nestled in my throat. "Good luck today with...everything."

That nervous tick appeared once more, fingers buried between the golden rows of hair. "Do you want me to talk to him? Maybe if I clarified the situation-"

I sincerely doubted anything All Might- the practical bane of Eraser Head's existence- could say would improve the situation. Besides, he's the one who needed help now, not me. It wouldn't feel right to burden him with his plate already so full.

A smile- hopefully more assuring than haunting- turned my lips. "Hey, don't worry, okay? We're fine. Good luck today. Please remember to stop for dinner, if this takes longer than you expected. Actually, here-" I hurried to the kitchen, grabbed a few quick snacks from the cabinets and threw them in a paper bag. "-take this with you. Try to eat the fruit first, okay? Don't just eat the sweet stuff-"

"Such a mother!" Toshinori teased. I rolled my eyes. Only a small flame flickered against my ribs at the comment; I did spend an uncanny amount of time mothering him, it felt like.

You've grown too attached to children who don't belong to you.

"If Aizawa gets too cranky, give him this-" I'd had to special order the bizarre-flavored Kit Kats; they'd only just arrived this morning. "Don't let him know you have more than one, because he'll just binge them all in two minutes. Sporadically is key."
"You had these in your pocket" Toshinori laughed. "The whole time?"
Embarrassment warmed my cheeks. "I- If I had left them here, he would've found them-"

A blonde head shook in disbelief. I busied myself with examining the wall. This place is rather plain. Maybe I should raid a store or two.

"He's really lucky, you know."
Toshinori's smile was soft when I looked at him, vacant of the usual timidness and pausing my lungs.
"What?"
But he simply raised a hand in farewell, turning towards the door without finishing his thought. I stared on several moments even after his departure.

My estranged love, going off to spend the afternoon with the man everyone thought I was involved with. What could possibly go wrong?


Hosu hadn't spared any expenses on the new aquarium, that much was obvious.

The architecture and decorum had been constructed by professional, thoughtful hands; every wall and carpet coated in magnificent shades of blue, lighting soft to highlight the windows into undersea worlds, where creatures as large as submarines glided beside others as small as the hands of children pressed against the glass. White ocean noise filtered through the halls and seemed to dance with its inhabitants. Arched ceilings of glass submersed the viewers so deeply in the ocean I could barely discern the experience from the real one, where I'd sat on the sea floor with Shota. The very same sensations cleansed my fatigued mind now, drew a soft-boned calm I hadn't experienced in weeks.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?"
Gang Orca looked more Kugo than hero, dressed in casual clothing rather than the all-porpoise cape and tongue-tie. I snickered at my own pun and a bit of my mentor appeared, eyeing me warily. My mellowed brain eased a smile onto my face.

"I can't believe I hadn't come here sooner. This is-" I rubbed a hand over my chest, as if assuaging the last bit of tension from my body. "I know this sounds weird, seeing that hundreds of thousands of gallons are sitting on top of us, filled with potentially-dangerous sea life and bone-crushing volume, but this is the most calm I've felt in days. Weeks."

"You have a water quirk. I believe we- those of us gifted with powers- hold affinities for those elements which we find most in ourselves."

Kugo stepped towards a glass window and placed two obsidian fingers against the pane. What once camouflaged as coral suddenly broke from its vibrant surroundings and moved with such elegance my breath caught in a gasp. Between speckled shades of greys and blues and magenta two dark holes appeared; eyes, looking steadily at Kugo.

"Reef stonefish," He explained simply, quietly, as if not to frighten our guest. "The most venomous fish in the world. Though, truth be told, they use their speed to catch prey far more often than their venom."

"Multitalented, then," I moved closer. The stonefish took notice, angled itself in my direction when I raised my own fingers. "Can you summon different types to the glass? Are you planning to do this during the lecture?"

"What? So they can frighten the creatures?" Kugo looked at me with great offense. I fought back a smile.

"If you draw over a whale shark, I doubt it'll be scared of a few weak humans. Besides, the kids will be amazed. Their intrigue will far outweigh whatever lingering fear they have." Of you, I almost added. Even without the costume Gang Orca was a little menacing, face severe without normal "human" expressions, looming at a near seven foot tall. His fish face perked up at the prospect.

"Well. If such an act might negate their littering habits, I suppose one slight attack of nerves is a payable price."
Did he...really have to consider it?

"What have you done to your hair?"
I gave the end of my braid a little jiggle. "They're fishtails. Get it? Because...fish?"

Kugo continued to stare at me. My haggard sigh was enough to scare the stonefish back into hiding.

"Forget it," I muttered, skulking towards the designated speaking area. "Let's just go."
"Your dress is quite nice, however. You look like a blue Siamese fighting fish-"
My hurried stomping was pointless; his meandering pace practically matched mine anyway, each step covering nearly three feet.

When Gang Orca said he spoke to young crowds, I didn't know he meant this young.

Ten little faces stared at us in wonder, seated in front of strollers and mothers looking in clear need of a break. How old were they? Three, four? Surely younger than school age.
Already they seemed transfixed on Kugo's dorsal fin; when he shifted their gazes did as well, head twisting with the effort.

"Hello, and welcome to Nasu City's Aquarium. We're excited to have you here today,"
Like we practiced, the overgrown dolphin maintained a friendly voice and used words even the youngest crowds could understand; complicated scientific names were reduced to shark, jellyfish, and whales, and the demonstration of Gang Orca's teeth strength was exchanged instead for a passing-around of a dried starfish.

They seemed totally engrossed, button noses wrinkling at the briny smell and bumpy feel of the star's arms, caught between gaping at the still sea creature and the living one before them. One timid boy fell into my lap to avoid being passed the starfish and proved quite adamant in his new perch. I remained cross-legged on the floor with the children and my new little friend, smile crooked as Kugo continued on his own.
It's amazing how trusting kids can be, snuggled in the arms of a complete stranger. Which, I realized, was probably a terrible quality; I could be a serial killer for all this kid knew. His hair, soft like downy feathers, was parted on the side and swooped like a little gentleman, accentuated by his sober, deep-souled eyes. Even though he was past infant age a baby-lotion-and-milk smell still permeated from him. I took a quiet inhale, even as doing so filled my chest with prickling smog. Why do you torture yourself like this?

A smattering of applause brought me back to attention. Kugo, despite my warnings, smiled a toothy grin, too pleased with such a positive outcome to be wary. I gave him a furtive thumbs up.

And just when I thought we were in the clear a sticky-looking hand rose, eyes wide with a bursting question.
Don't say it, don't say it-
"Can we touch your fin?"

Ah.
Well, at least it wasn't a poop-related inquiry.

Kugo looked at me for direction. I startled, looking between him and the children, quickly debating the best line of action.

"Okay," I said slowly. The boy in my lap blinked up at me. I smiled back and lowered my voice. "Would you like to go first? Don't worry, I won't let go." The boy gave a solemn nod, hands laced in a vice grip around my neck when I stood. "Okay! Everybody stand up and follow the leader."

Kugo Sakamata had come a long way from the man who'd nearly bitten my entire head off when I asked if he had a blowhole; now he kneeled, seemingly perfectly at ease as I picked up kid after kid, directed their hands over the glossy skin of his fin. Only one grabby set of fingers caused Kugo to wince. That child's turn ended abruptly, sulking only momentarily before she discovered the orcan face now within her reach. Kugo's teeth appeared in seconds, lips drawn back by those same intrusive hands. Where the hell is this kid's mother?

With every child having received a turn, Kugo gained another outbreak of applause- this time with gusto. I grinned at his red-eyed beam, happy for him to have enjoyed a positive child-audience experience at last.

"Kugo, that was awesome!" I let out the nervous breath hidden in my lungs. "And hey! You didn't have to scare a whale shark or anything to get their approval!"
He nodded, still looking pleased. "This has been the most successful demonstration I've experienced with adolesc-children. Thank you. I didn't realize you were so good with kids."
"I used to babysit a lot when I was younger," I brushed off with a glance around the vacated kids' area.

Only, it wasn't vacated.
The little downy-haired boy from before still sat where I'd left him, looking around with worry.

"Oh," Kugo took notice as well, scoping out the premises for a scatterbrained parent. The boy looked up when I approached, features relaxing when he recalled my face. I squatted to his level, careful to keep a friendly demeanor.

"Hey, I'm Chiyo. What's your name?"
"Yusushi," His voice was like aloe, soothing and quiet. Two brown eyes followed the fishtail when I tilted my head. I smiled like we were sharing a secret joke.

"Who did you come here with, Yusushi?"
"Uncle dropped me off."
"Ah," Kugo had disappeared; hopefully to alert an aquarium attendant. "Where is Uncle now?"

"I don't know," Panic pinched at his little cheeks. Had this Uncle just left him here, all alone? The boy couldn't be older than four, limbs still carrying hints of baby chubbiness. His heart battered against his ribs like a hummingbird's, twice the speed of my own.
I rose slowly, offered him a hand.

"Why don't we look at the fish until we find Uncle? There are penguins here,"
The most powerful of distractions- what child could deny the waddling cuteness of penguins? Like a magnet his attention connected to my face. His little hand felt warm and soft in mine, without a speck of mysterious stickiness.

Yusushi looked well taken care of, clothes clean and fitted, skin just as well-scrubbed as his soft hair. The only indicator of unusualness was the furrowed-brow seriousness puckering his baby face. He'd worn the expression throughout Kugo's lesson as well, like an over-worried dad on prom night. Before it had been funny; now I was afraid the look hid a deluge of imminent tears just behind the bend.

A crowd of daycare kids stampeded in our direction. The boy- Yusushi- allowed me to pick him up, snug against one hip and clinging to my shoulder as we continued on.

"How old are you, Yusushi?"
He held four fingers up, eyes glued to the passing exhibits. I neared one tucked in a darker corner, grateful for the quiet. The brush of his hair tickled my nose as he leaned forward, tentatively looking through the glass.

"There is nothing here?"

His brow furrowed at my smile, both for his question and my reaction. With no particular access to younger children these days, I'd forgotten their still-developing language configurements.

"It says this is a jellyfish exhibit. Maybe they're shy?" I questioned back. Yusushi frowned before turning to the glass once more. I moved us a step closer.

What had Kugo been thinking of, when he touched the glass? Had he used some sort of quirk ability I didn't know about, or was what he said true- did we share a connection with the elements we were most aligned with?
I breathed in the salt and calm around us, exhaled with the movement of the thousand creatures dwelling in the depths. Placed my hand over Yusushi's on the cool window pane.

At first, nothing happened.

Then, slowly, a bundle of jellyfish rose like escaped balloons, glowing in the special lights in almost unimaginable shades. Yusushi breathed a gasp of wonder. I shared the sentiment, surprised by either my little hidden talent or clandestine timing. Yusushi leaned back against my shoulder, as if taken away by the sight. Again I acted too intimately, sniffing his baby-shampoo hair like a perfume.

"Chiyo? There you are,"
Kugo stood alongside an unsmiling man donning a shirt with security written in garish, reflective yellow. How did it not blind the fish? On reflex I held Yusushi a little tighter. Which was dumb, considering the point of this man's occupation was exactly this kind of scenario, but Yusushi seemed to share the same reaction and I didn't particularly like the idea of handing him over to some angry-looking man in a button-down.

"This is my friend Kugo, remember? And this is an aquarium worker. They want to help us find Uncle, too. Kugo, this is Yusushi." I said by way of greeting. Worry inflected the boy's face again and Kugo raised his arm, as if to offer a formal handshake. He quickly lowered his hand upon my look.

"An uncle, you said?" The unsmiling worker asked. "What's his name? When did you last see him, buddy?"
I didn't know buddy could be used in such a threatening way. The child apparently didn't know, either- he squished farther into my body, shrinking away from the man. He relaxed only slightly when I placed my hand against his back.

"So many questions! Hey, you want to hear another? Guess what I have in my pocket?"

"Dresses don't have pockets," Yusushi mumbled into my shoulder. He pulled away nonetheless, carefully peering down to the skirt of my dress. I stood him on a nearby bench before wagging a finger.

"Normally, you'd be right! But-" Hopefully Shota would forgive me giving away his candy; the situation felt dire without the pick-me-up. I pulled out the last package with a garnish. "Ta da!"

A shy smile turned his face angelic. I tried not to melt into the newly-laid carpet at the sight. "What do you have in your pockets, Yusushi? I'll trade you this candy for it!"

My hunch bore fruit; a laminated card sat in Yusushi's palm, along with a button shaped like a bear, an out-of-season acorn, and a miniature All Might figure, probably from a gumball machine. I took the card and left his other treasures, handing him a Kit Kat to compensate.

Yusushi Kuma

His birth date, address, and parental contact information were all listed beside his barely-smiling picture, dark eyes doleful towards the camera lens. Kugo and the security man read along over my shoulder.

"Why doesn't Chiyo stay with him? You and I can go contact his mother," Kugo suggested. Security man nodded, looking more than a little relieved to not have to take the child with him.

And so I spent the next forty minutes munching on candy and quietly observing penguins with a four year-old whose soul far outdated his own young age. Eventually the daycare field trips ended and Yusushi walked on his own, holding onto my hand or the hem of my dress, careful to never let go.
If "Uncle" showed up to pick him up before the mom did, I decided to punch him in the teeth for leaving this woodland creature of a boy alone, in a public place where anyone could have snatched him. Didn't he realize how dangerous that was?
My heart crunched at the very idea as I watched another rare smile cross the boy's face, tracing the outline of a starfish stuck to an exhibit's glass window. At least he's overcome his fear.

"Yusushi?"
A panicked voice drew our attention down the hall where a woman, face etched in worry, stood, eyes wild until they caught sight of the little boy still holding my hand. Kugo and the security worker from before flanked her, moving at a slower pace as she rushed us.
Yusushi, for having been an abandoned child reunited with his mother, acted in the same somber manner, blinking up at her before she swooped him into her arms.

"Yusushi! Are you okay? Are you hurt?"
Hurt? I tried not to take offense; it was probably a standard mom question. Definitely something my own mom would've asked, even if I'd been standing between Gandhi and the Buddha.

"Uncle left me here again," Yusushi replied, hardly reacting to the three dozen kisses being showered across his face. "He said not to say anything and he'd buy me ice cream." Worry suddenly shadowed his face. "Am I still going to get ice cream?"

"Of course, honey, whatever you want," Mrs. (Ms?) Kuma pressed her face to his, eyes closed in silent relief. "Just as soon as I kill your idiot uncle."

"He hasn't gone to the bathroom ever since we found him," I piped up, as this seemed like important information. The mother startled, having never registered my existence before now. I offered the half-empty bottle of juice I'd purchased for Yusushi, along with the wrapped-up half of a candy bar. "We shared two Kit Kat sticks. They're peanut-free but, um, probably contain milk? So if he has a lactose intolerance, I hope it doesn't affect him in any way."
She gaped at me- they all were. Shut up. Shut up shut up shut up. "I don't think he ate enough to bother him, though."

"You're...the woman from tv. I just saw you on the news,"
On the news? Today? I wondered. Why would the news still be talking about me? Bored tabloids, sure, but there certainly had to be more pressing topics to discuss than a week-old story.
"Okay," I answered, because what the hell was I supposed to say to that? I ignored Kugo's barely-smothered snicker.

The woman shook her head before lowering hair the same shade as her son's. "I'm sorry, I'm being so rude. Thank you for taking care of my son. Words can't express how grateful I am to you- to all of you," She jiggled Yusushi on her hip. His placid gaze moved to hers, probably daydreaming about his future ice cream. "Yusushi, do you realize who she is?"

"Her name is Chiyo," He answered simply. "She likes Kit Kats and real cats. Her dress has pockets."
"She's Chiyonex, honey! From the tv, remember? She knows All Might!"
Yusushi eyed me skeptically. My smile made itself known.
"Tell me the truth," He demanded.
"It is the truth," I answered, solemn as a monk. "He likes strawberry ice cream and teddy bears. His hero costume, unlike my dress, does not have pockets."

Yusushi looked as if I'd given him the secrets of the universe.

"Thank you again," The mother grabbed my hand and gave a fierce squeeze, bowed her head to the others. I waved as they moved towards the exit, Yusushi watching me over his mother's shoulder with a moony look.

This time, I don't think he was daydreaming about ice cream.

I took a moment to bask in the warm glow of having successfully helped someone- even if it was just hanging out with a little kid for an hour or two. The simplicity of child-level conversations, like if fish could understand human language or whether Santa counted snacking between meals a naughty act, had left me nearly peaceful.

And the black pit didn't growl for a tribute. I had enjoyed a child-filled afternoon without the creeping numbness of yearning or shame-tinted embarrassment, began the tentative process of bridging the gap between the two lands. See? You were only overreacting before; we got this.

"You're going to make a superb mother someday, Chiyo."

The bridge of planks proved made of sawdust, breaking halfway across the void.

"Thanks." I tried to smile. "Are you ready to go? I parked in the side lot."
He followed me towards the western exit. "I informed my driver of the lost-child predicament and allowed him to leave early. Would it be possible for me to catch a ride with you? My agency is only two or three blocks away."

I had kind of planned to scream into my steering wheel for a few solid minutes, but- "Sure. Though I don't know how we'll accommodate your- er, unique physique."

"Another pun?"
"It's called a rhyme." I scoffed back. "Honestly. It's like you try to be un-hip."
"I believe by uttering the word hip you are, by definition, also un-hip."

Touche.

Maneuvering him into the passenger seat was so difficult he finally gave up, mumbling about universal design and the insensitivity of car makers in light of the new century. I nodded along patiently. It probably was an embarrassing pain in the ass; the only way he fit in my backseat was horizontally, stretched out across the length of the seats. The tip of his dorsal fin poked out of the cracked-down window. I deserved an award for not releasing so much as a chuckle at the sight.

"I could see it," He commented, finally settled, arms crossed and posture uncomfortable as I reversed out of the parking spot.
"See what?"
"You and Eraser Head having kids, one day. Though you, without a doubt, will be the enabling parent." He eyed me with a hint of a chastising smile. "How many snacks did you buy that child back there? You completely diminished his appetite for supper."

My car nearly swerved into oncoming traffic. I took a slow breath despite the stickiness of my lungs.

"What makes you think Eraser Head would even want kids?"
Kugo shrugged in the rear view mirror. "He's a teacher, isn't he? I'd assume if a person takes an occupation dealing primarily with the youth- with children, they must like them, no?"

Calm down. Calm down, Chiyo.
But someone was turning off the oxygen supply to my brain, pouring in nerve gas instead.
You're being pathetic. Control yourself. Just think about something else. You're overreacting.

I had kind of assumed Kugo knew about my situation once he'd asked about my comfortableness in water during my menstrual cycle. After nearly dying of humiliation when the thirty-something year-old pro hero had not only uttered those two words but inquired about when mine would take place, I'd told him there wouldn't be a problem- I didn't have one.

Clearly, he hadn't put two and two together.

I cranked the air conditioner, suddenly feeling too hot in the small space. At least he was in the back, unable to see the flinching mess of my face. Calm the fuck down. You're being stupid.

"Would that be a deal breaker to you? If your significant other didn't want children?" I asked, gluttonous for the rod.

He considered for a moment. I held my breath, counted all the way to nineteen before he answered; "I...would have to sincerely evaluate the relationship. When you have such a long-term desire to have a family, it would be hard to simply give it all up. I think a piece of me would always wonder what could have been." He scratched his cheek with one claw-like finger. "Though, I am concerned over the inheritance of quirks. Growing up with a dorsal fin and teeth like daggers wasn't exactly a stroll through the park."

Nausea swept across the surface of my stomach, threatened my esophagus. I gripped my hands tighter around the steering wheel. They continued to tremble regardless, defying my mind's screamed commands to calm down.

He's speaking about himself. He has no idea what he's saying. His situation doesn't necessarily apply to you.
But what if it did?
Was I just some broken, foolhardy optimist, never realizing my own ignorance? Because it was normal to want a family, to want those experiences- experiences everyone seemed to have. How many adults did I actually know who didn't have kids?

Was that why Shota had really looked up those quirk-fertility clinics? Because he was thinking ahead, to a future he'd envisioned for himself long before? Was his coldness simply the settling in of reality, of what I'd become? What I no longer was capable of?

I stopped the car. Kugo sat up, confused.

"Please, get out," My voice was nearly swallowed by the bile floating to the back of my throat. I squeezed my eyes shut, breathed quick, horrible little breaths through my open mouth. What is this? Calm down. Calm down calm down calmdowncalmdowncalmdown.

"Chiyo? What's the m-"
"Get out!"
I didn't mean to scream. The car rocked with his surprise, quickly stumbling out of the backseat onto the sidewalk. He watched my car pull away, haphazard through my blurred vision. Cars honked at the intrusion.

If I could just get home. If I could just get home, away from this, away from whatever was happening to my body.
Each breath seemed shorter and shorter until I could barely take in enough oxygen to keep my mind awake.

Hold on. We're almost home. Just hold on.

Nasu yeowled in alarm. Endo skittered out of my way just in time.
The shower's dials groaned against their limits. I didn't even bother with undressing.

The water only brought slight relief, moving from icy fingertips dampening my body to scalding caresses, melting my hair into my skin, steamed air proving kinder to my lungs. A tingling sensation, once only a minor worry, now sprinkled out of my skull, numbed the tip of my nose, my hands, turned my skin clammy despite the warm water.

In, out, in out, in-out, each inhale shorter than the one before, all but matching my frantic pulse. If I didn't slow my breathing I would pass out. You have to calm down. You're being ridiculous. Focus. Focus.

Focus on what, though? The fact that I was irreparable? Focus on the definition of a woman and how I no longer met the primary requirement?

My body gave an involuntary jerk, retched nothing but apple juice down the drain. I'd fed all the candy and snacks to the lost aquarium boy despite my grumbling stomach. He'd eaten every bite, quiet smile enough to feed my appetite.

You grow too attached to children who don't belong to you.

Because they didn't.
Because they never would.

Regulation begged at the door of my mind, ran its fingers across the fragile tissue. I defied its siren call. It's a panic attack. You're experiencing a panic attack. Think about the steps you learned in psychology.

My hand iron locked over my mouth. I squeezed my eyes shut, focused on slowing the rushing air, elongating the quick breaths pelting through my nose like knives thrown from an experienced hand and tried, desperately, not to succumb. Focus on your breathing. Focus on maintaining consciousness.

Regulation tapped one long nail, tested the might of the barrier. Focus on the fact that you're inadequate. That nothing you do makes a difference. Still I fought, shaking the intrusive thoughts away.

You're not inadequate. You aren't defined by this one aspect of your life. You have friends. You have a boyfriend who loves you. There is purpose in your life.

All the fights I'd had with Shota felt so pathetically ridiculous now. Who the fuck cared if he didn't want to be seen on camera? Public outings weren't a deal breaker- I would sacrifice a hundred extroverted dates with someone else for just one single night at home, with him. Why hadn't I just said that? If I'd just told him how lonely I'd felt he would've- will- understand.

I didn't care about the limelight. I didn't care about being a hero.
I just cared about protecting the people I loved.

The hammering ebbed down to an insistent knocking. I kept one hand locked over my mouth anyway, too afraid of the only subtle hints of regained control. Each steaming water droplet soothed one more atom, brought me down one stair at a time. The dark silhouette of thoughts and temptation turned its back, giving up the attempt to break through my will.

The familiar sound of the front door opening broke through the shower's noise and slumped me further with newfound relief. I counted his footsteps, until he stood just outside, hesitant. Soaked, slumped in the corner of the shower, I must've looked a complete mess. Maybe I was.

Come inside. Find me. Tell me everything's going to be okay.

The door opened.

"Chiyo?"

When he'd said my name all those weeks ago, the last time I was lost, standing in the video store with a mind full of fog, I'd known we were more than strangers just by the way he breathed the two syllables.
Now there was nothing but the feeling of the highway at night, where the road curved so severely you were driving blind, either towards home or off a cliff with nothing but rocks waiting below.
Regulation's tempest paused at the sound.

"Did...Did you tell Toshinori you loved him?"

It turned, liquid eyes gleaming.

"You probably haven't been able to catch the news, considering your busy afternoon with Gang Orca- Kugo."

It didn't even try the door this time.

"Imagine my surprise, sitting in the living room of a student, inches from him, when the television replayed a sound clip from that night. When Toshinori said he loved you, too."

If I opened my mouth, I didn't know what would pour forth. Infect the walls, poison the air around me. This is a misunderstanding; you don't understand. But I was already in distress, unable to dig my way out of the current avalanche, voice soundless. Regulation laughed as my heart went off to the races again, slid its bony fingers between my lungs, waiting for the decayed fruit to fall.

"When I asked him, he didn't deny it. All Might is in love with you, Chiyo. Congratulations."

Open the door.
Just open the door.
Find me; see me.

His sigh breathed through the steam, cut me like a knife.
"I...I don't think we should live together. Like this."

And then it entered my veins.
Slow. Consuming. An amphetamine so potent my lips parted in reverence.

Every drop of blood, guided, regulated. Lethargic in its stroll through the arteries, kissing every capillary hello. I no longer felt the nauseating panic stripping my lungs of air, or the tenderness of my heart held above the dark hole like an offering to a well.

I felt nothing at all.

"The dormitories are nearly complete. The instructor's apartments were the first to be furnished. I'm going to move in early-"
"No." Someone spoke, smooth and slow as liquid amber.

It wasn't my voice, but the girl who'd first arrived at UA. Emotions perfectly in control, fitted to meet the standards of society. Polite. Maintained.
Muzzled.

"This is your apartment; I'll go." I turned the shower off without standing, pushed the dials with hydrogen molecules. The draining water seemed bluer than before; my dress was bleeding out around me. How had he kept my colors so vibrant?

"There's a roll of black garbage bags in the trunk of your car. Will you go get them, please?"

One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
Six. Seven. Eight. Nine.

Aiawa turned.

I stayed for twenty seconds more, in case he changed his mind.
He didn't.


I didn't know quirks could be implemented against technology.

Couple a watchful camera, a man with ultrasonic hearing, and an electromagnetic telepath, and you can re-create the near-flawless audio of any situation the hearing-quirk user witnessed.

Namely, the selective comment from Toshinori Yagi's mouth on the battle ground where we stood, where he told me he loved me too, carefully edited to cut directly to his golden boy smile rather than his explanation of love between friends or the conversation between.

And if I hadn't lived the moment myself- where my breath caught, when what felt like the first smile in thirty days had split my face- I would've thought my look of love really did follow Toshinori's confession, rather than the real moment the clip had been spliced from.
When I had seen Shota Aizawa, hurrying onto the scene before being swept behind a crowd of cameras and reporters.

Shota was right- reporters really were a bunch of bloodsucking leeches.

Nasu, for once in his life, made no comment on my sad, pathetic life as we trekked towards the only place I had thought to go, his green eyes narrowed at the stalling people watching our every move.

I should've probably pulled the water from the dress dying my legs blue, or the fish-turned-serpentine braid sticking to my neck. Instead I'd soaked my driver's seat, left each passerby startled when I journeyed down the sidewalk, cat carrier in hand.

They pointed, whispered. My face highlighted a hundred phones, television screens hung in cafes.

It's her.

A fox roamed inside a glass window case, rearranging a new, beautiful collection of leather-bound fairy tales. Sensing a presence, she looked up. I was reminded of the first dreams all over again- when she'd sought me out, fearless in her incendiary coat, even as the ice beneath her shattered like a million glass spears.

Had I been the monster lurking beneath?

She moved to the door. I held my breath.
Manami Seto turned the thin wood of a handcrafted sign, dispelling any further visitors.
She locked the door without a second glance in my direction.

I hadn't thought about what day of the week it was and how Principal Nezu- especially given the recent events- certainly had better things to do than be at the beck and call of one measly instructor in need of a favor and a key.

And so, with no access to the dorm rooms, no family, and no other place to go, Nasu and I rustled through the quiet, dark halls of UA, to our new temporary home.