A/N: I typically name my chapters while I'm working on them, so I don't get lost on exactly what I'm doing and where I'm trying to go with it. This chapter was called "Frustrating Piece of S*** That Never Seems to End." I literally worked on it all Thanksgiving break for hours. Friday, after a week, I had a paragraph. I had a billion deleted drafts, and a paragraph (that I ended up deleting anyway). So yeah, I refuse to edit this. I refuse to do anything more with it. I hate it with the hatred of a thousand burning suns and will maybe come back to it at a later date.

Ugh.

Anyways, good news! I have finished plotting out the rest of the story (in a way that will tie up all of the loose ends). Bad news, you have three arcs after this one, and then it's done. The next chapter will be the provisional exam! Thank you for your patience with my very busy life. Winter break is in 3 months and I am SOOO excited.


Preparing dinner is a rather muted affair, not because I'm not hungry, but mainly due to my disappointment. Shinsou hadn't wanted to stay. Well, that's not entirely correct, he'd been fine with it at first, but twenty minutes into my stupid classmates staring at us both, and he'd quickly changed his mind. It was obnoxious, as if they forgot the glass worked both ways and we could see them looking at each other and us.

Toru probably forgot she was wearing clothes, I think grumpily, stirring the vegetables in and listening to them crackle.

Sensei, picking up on the mood, raises an eyebrow as he sets the table with dishes and pours us both a glass of water.

I send him a dark look, eyes half-lidded and lips furrowed down.

The way he smiles back does not help.

At least it's not that stupid grin.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asks when I finally turn off the stove, and we both sit down.

"No. My classmates are annoying," I huff, reminded bitterly that I still hadn't solved the mystery of why Midoriya was in the quirkless database. "And weird. And are you really not going to talk to Toru about her nakedness?"

"Rin, that's none of your business."

"So I suppose Midoriya isn't either?" I ask him sharply.

"Probably not," he offers, taking a bite. "Is he running around naked as well?"

I can't even glare, unable to stop my own snort at the idea of Midoriya mistakenly thinking himself invisible.

"No!" I chide, huffing. "But how did he get a quirk?"

Sensei pauses, food halfway to his mouth, and raises an eyebrow.

"What?" he asks flatly, expression twisting into bewilderment.

"How did he get his quirk," I repeat, not really understanding his surprise. "I mean, did… do they have a shot like the one that the doctor made to take them away, except, I dunno… opposite? Or did someone give it to him? I mean, people can't really give quirks, right? I… I dunno, I just don't get it. Or do you-"

"Rin," Sensei interrupts, his lips slipping down in a low frown and eyes narrowing. He places his utensils back on the plate and releases a strangely irritated noise. "Are you serious?"

I purse my lips.

"Yes."

Why would I ask if I wasn't?

Sensei sighs. It's so annoying.

How rude.

"Really?" I ask, glowering.

"Finish eating," he grumbles, not touching his plate. "We'll discuss it when you're done."

I furrow my eyebrows and do so, reluctant when he stares off sullenly, expression locked in some weird mixture of annoyance and resignation. I finish quickly, moving to wash my dish, but he waves me off, standing and shooing me to the couch.

I make a face.

This seems a little dramatic.

I nearly say it, but ultimately decide against it. Instead I curl on my end, wrapping up in a blanket and frown, confused when he drops almost wearily to his own.

Is all of this really necessary?

"Sir?"

"Usually students come to U.A. knowing the basics," Sensei says, looking for all purposes like we were about to discuss eating slugs instead of why Midoriya got a quirk at 14.

I furrow my eyebrows and stare.

"They do?" I ask in disbelief.

"Yes," Sensei says shortly before taking a deep breath and launching into his teacher voice. "Quirks are a biological component incorporated in your DNA. They aren't given, they're passed down through heredity. When a woman and man have unprotected intercourse, they run the risk of having a child-"

I stare at Sensei in horror as I realize where this is going.

Is… Is this his version of the sex talk?

I splutter, my entire face burning as it turns what I'm sure is a bright red.

"S-Sensei!" I squeak, slapping my hands to my eyes. "I- I know that! I- I meant Midoriya's!"

"Boys are developed in the same general way girls are," Sensei says, voice turning more amused as this continues on. "They have different genitals-"

"No!" I interrupt, dragging the blanket up and over my head in dismay. "I- Sensei, I know that! I meant why his came so late!"

There's a momentary pause.

"Late?" Sensei repeats, less amused.

"Yes, late!" I grumble from inside my blanket roll, still hot and mortified. "You know at 14!"

There's an even longer pause.

Too long.

I peak out from under the blanket to Sensei's suddenly not-amused face.

"What are you talking about?"

"Midoriya," I repeat, his seriousness washing away some of my humiliation. Slowly I pull away the blanket. "He… He was quirkless, and now he isn't. I… I thought you knew."

"How do you?" he asks oddly, eyebrows furrowing.

"The… The quirkless database," I tell him honestly, reaching into my pocket and pulling out my phone. It's still in my history, and Sensei frowns as he takes it, obviously noticing the multiple searches. I try to ignore the little jitter of discomfort that brings. "He… I found him on accident."

His frown deepens as he stares.

"You were trying to find Ryu by elimination," Sensei deduces, finger scrolling across the screen. He looks up, annoyed.

I sink into the couch.

"I… Yeah."

"This was the research that got you so upset earlier?" he asks flatly before glancing down at the phone. I cringe.

"I… Yes, uh sir."

When Sensei doesn't say anything more, I hesitantly curl into a ball.

"Am… Am I in trouble?"

"No," he answers, clicking off the phone and slipping it into his pocket. I almost whine, but at his scowl, I hold it in. "You've looked up news stories on Kaito every day, multiple times a day."

I sink lower and grimace.

"Y-Yeah."

"Did it help?" Sensei asks, hand coming up to rub at his eyes.

I swallow and pull at my fingers.

"No…"

"Then I'm going to block his name in your search engine," Sensei says, sighing as he drags the hand down his neck. "This isn't healthy, obsessing over someone so much. Especially not someone who hurt you."

"I... fine."

"As for the information about Midoriya, thank you for telling me." Sensei says, and I glance up in surprise at the sudden change. That's it? "I don't know how he got his quirk or how he was quirkless for fourteen years without anyone here knowing, but it doesn't change the fact that he's kept this a secret for a reason. Do not draw attention to it, which includes asking random, pointed questions. There aren't any current ways that I'm aware of that allows a person to go from being quirkless to not."

I stare, disappointed down at my hands.

"Oh."

Sensei's gaze softens.

"Don't look so depressed, I'll return your phone after I block half these sites to keep you out of trouble," he says with a wry smile as he holds out an arm. I flush and quickly crawl to him. "I thought we were going to be having another type of conversation."

My face heats.

"Sensei!"

"Yes, yes, I know," he huffs, pulling me close and drawing a deep breath. His hand runs through my hair as I press against his side. "We will need to have that conversation eventually."

I groan, not ever wanting to imagine it.

He chuckles, the sound warm and low as it rumbles through his chest.

"Not tonight," he agrees, pressing a kiss against my head. Then he sighs and leans back. I lean against him, watching as he stares off at the ceiling again. He doesn't move for a long moment, clearly lost in thought.

He looks like he's sleeping with his eyes open.

"Sensei?" I ask, wondering if he'll eventually turn into one of those old men that doze in their seats.

He hums, and I frown, not liking the strange, far-off look.

"Is… Is something wrong?"

"Did you tell anyone else about Midoriya?"

I hesitate. He catches on immediately.

"Rin?"

"Bakugou," I admit quietly. Sensei raises an eyebrow in surprise, and I flush and look away. "He… Midoriya said they were friends in school. So I asked if he knew him quirkless-"

Sensei's eyes narrow, as if remembering something.

"And?" he asks.

"He pretended he didn't, but I think he was lying."

Sensei snorts.

"Of course. How do you find all of this trouble?" he grumbles half-heartedly. "First the villain at the beach, Kurogiri, and now this. Is this going to happen every time I let you out of my sight?"

I grumble and flop across his legs, making a face.

"I don't find trouble!"

He chuckles and reaches out, short nails scratching across my back, and I nearly groan, arching my back to try and direct him.

"How was your time with Hitoshi?"

"Fun," I huff, wiggling up so the warmth of his hand moves lightly over the middle of my back. "It would have been better though if everyone didn't keep staring. It made Shinsou uncomfortable. It was really aggravating. They don't do all that when Iida and Midoriya practice."

"Iida and Midoriya don't avoid interaction," Sensei chides, raking his nails in lazy circles. "If you want them to not stare, you'll need to actually talk to them instead of hiding in a corner."

I turn my head and shoot him a weird look.

How did he know that?

"Are you watching us?" I question him, suspicious. "You… You don't have cameras in the lobby, do you?"

Somehow, that wouldn't surprise me.

"No," he snorts, finally moving his hand to the perfect spot. I sigh contently. "I don't need cameras for that, I know you."

I flush, rolling over on my back to stare up at him.

"Will you say it again?"

He smiles, that tiny one that feels like a secret. Then, leaning forward, he kisses my forehead.

"I love you."

I love you too.

My eyes fill with tears.

"Promise?" I ask, wrapping my arms around his neck before he can leave. He huffs, a warm puff of air escaping across my scalp, and stares. Only inches away, the dark black of his eyes like the blackness of night, like my shadows—seemingly infinite. Safe. "No… no matter what? Even… Even if I'm bad or- or I cry?"

"No matter what," he promises, his thumb coming up to caress my cheek.

"Thank you, Sensei," I whisper back, letting go.

He sits back, but the hand stays.

The tiny smile does too.

.

.

.

Monday's therapy session doesn't seem quite as scary as our last one, but I still don't like it. The idea of missing training, even if that training is Aunt Nemuri pushing me off cliffs, makes my stomach curl.

I don't want to get behind!

Then I will help you catch up.

I trudge reluctantly to the woman's office, greeted by the same simple door, the placard above it still surprisingly blank. I knock, hear the rich, warm accent call for me to enter, and step inside.

Tulutho looks up from her desk, a small stack of documents before her, and smiles. She looks the same as I remember, the dark mahogany skin, the dark, kind eyes, and this time with a black polka dotted head scarf. It matches impeccably with her black shirt and gold and black necklace.

"Good morning Rin-chan," the woman says in her warm, husky tones. "You're a little early, but it's no issue. Go, sit down and you can draw while I finish. We'll begin in five minutes."

I stare for a moment, watching her pour over the document, before shrugging and taking a spot on the same gray couch from before. On the table in front of it, I notice the thick stack of paper and the pile of crayons, colored pencils, and markers. I grab the markers, not really sure what to draw as I wait.

"Tulutho-san?" I ask, looking back. "What… what do I draw?"

"Whatever makes you happy," she says kindly. She only smiles for a moment before returning to work, and I scratch my chin.

What makes you happy…

It's an easy question. Shinsou, Yamada-sensei, Aizawa-sensei, Miska, Aunt Nemuri, sometimes my classmates, Vlad-sensei...

I draw a rather blob-like version of Miska, body curled with paws in the air and a tail winding across the cushion. It was the way I found her this morning, tongue hanging out as she pawed excitedly for me to rub her belly. It's an awful rendition. Flushing, I quickly turn it over, noticing the color bleed through, and grab another page. Instead, I switch the markers for colored pencils, and begin sketching out four circles with eyes and mouths. I've barely managed their hair (black, purple, black, and yellow respectively) when a timer goes off.

I put down the pencils, preparing to put them up, but Tulutho stops me with a soft noise, standing and crossing the room in only a few quick strides. She's tall, ridiculously tall, and when I look up from my seat on the couch, I almost have to crane my neck.

"You can draw as we talk," she suggests, lips stretching as she takes in my picture while taking the blue chair across from me. "How was your weekend?"

I consider her strangely, the kindness in her face and the strange grandiosity of her simple clothes and shining gold accents.

She looks like a queen.

"Good?"

She laughs, low in her throat, and crosses her legs.

"Let me rephrase. What emotions do you feel the most when you think about your weekend?"

I let out a little ah. That's an easy one too.

"Happy," I tell her, not even hesitating.

"And why is that? What memories stand out the most to make you feel so?"

I relax a little more, liking the easy way she asks her questions, and return to the drawing.

Maybe this isn't so bad…

"Because Shinsou-kun came over to see me, and Sensei told me he loved me. And- And I told him too," I admit, telling her the last bit a little shyly. My skin takes on a soft, dusty glow and when I glance up, Tulutho's expression softens warmly.

"Oh?" she asks. "Do you enjoy the verbal affirmation?"

I nod.

"I… I like hugs too," I confess, feeling a little silly. "And kisses."

"Does your guardian give you those often?" she asks curiously, simply smiling as if I'd told her my favorite flavor tea.

I nod and blush, feeling my skin lighten further.

"He… He didn't at first, but I get a lot more of them now. He's a lot nicer now than he was at first too, but it wasn't because he was mean. He used to tuck me in on the couch, and he always gave me hugs when I asked. It's just easier now, I dunno why. He's amazing. Sensei is the best guardian I've ever had!"

"Mmhm, that makes sense," Tulutho says. I switch colors and start on drawing the clothes, beginning with an almost invisible block of white before switching over to black. "Many people become easier to talk to as we learn more about them. What other emotions did you feel this weekend that really struck out?"

"Anger," I answer immediately, changing over to a gray pencil. Anticipating her question, I go ahead and answer. "I was mad at my brother, Ryu, because he never came to get me. Sensei told me that's because it's part of the law and that because he got in trouble, nobody would have let him."

"That does sound hurtful," the woman says.

I pause in my drawing and look up.

"Hurtful?" I ask, eyebrows furrowing.

"Indeed," she offers, inclining her head. "I intended to discuss it later, but now seems as good a time as any. It does not surprise me that your quirk manifested first in fear and anger, do you know why?"

I frown, shaking my head.

I hadn't ever thought about it.

What about the positive ones?

The dark-skinned woman lets out a warm chuckle, the sound drawing me back in.

"Ah, then I shall teach you," she says smiling. "Anger is a strong emotion, one that feeds on your pain and helps you to survive. It is an old emotion too, drawn from your very blood. Have you ever hurt, but been able to ignore it because you focused on your anger?"

When I nod, she goes on.

"Yes. It is because anger is natural, it is not good or bad. Much as the wind can cause destruction or give relief, anger is but a symptom of something else. Of pain. Pain can come from many types of places. It can be physical or emotional. A scratch on your arm, will cause pain, but so will disappointment. It causes a squeezing pain in my chest, and shame feels like bitterroot on my tongue and led in my stomach. All these can lead to anger. However, at its root, it is fear that leads to them."

I stop coloring to stare, wide-eyed at her, trying to digest all the information.

"Fear?" I repeat, dazed.

"Yes," Tulutho says, hands folded in her lap. "When I am jealous of my sister's good looks, it is because I am afraid of my own. When I am ashamed, it is because I believe I lack worth and I am afraid it is true. When I am anxious, it is because a reoccurring fear settles in my mind."

She pauses and hums, expression turning to concern.

"I can see the thoughts on your face, Rin-chan" she says quietly. "Would you a toy to hug?"

I nod, quiet, and she smiles as she stands and moves to the other side of the room, collecting tissues, a blanket, and a rather adorable, giant stuffed pig. I take the blanket and pig gratefully, drawing it to my chest and squeezing.

"Better?"

I nod.

"Good," she says, returning to her seat. She folds her hands and nods. "You spoke that you were angry at Ryu? Will you tell me why?"

I nod, rubbing my thumb across the smooth belly of the plushie.

"He… He got Kaito and… and he didn't get me."

Tulutho makes a soft clicking noise.

"What underlying feeling do you think the anger hid?" she asks patiently.

I consider it, staring down at the picture in front of me. It's only half finished, but just looking at it fills a small warm spot in my chest.

What did you feel?

Anxiety? Shame? Jealousy? Fear?

"Hurt?" I offer, uncertain.

"And the fear?" Tulutho asks, expression encouraging. "What fear did their actions confirm?"

I squeeze the pig, eyes watering.

Should have been me.

Why the hell do you get to have powers when you won't even use them!

"They… They didn't care," I whisper, feeling the liquid leak over my eyes. Tulutho leans forward, reaching out for the box of tissues and hands me one kindly. I take it, gratefully, and wipe at my face hotly. "They- They didn't love me."

"Ahhh," Tulutho says, her voice calm and steady, "That is a fear, but I don't think it is yours. Why do they not love you? Why do you think they don't care?"

You're the monster, Rin-chan.

I'm going to destroy you, just like you did me.

Fuck heroes. Fuck your stupid quirk.

My stomach twists and knots itself, shadows humming beneath the surface and scratching at my insides. I take a shuddering breath, feeling the pain.

"I…"

I'm going to kill you!

Why do you hate me?

Tulutho says nothing, patient and calm. I clutch the fat pig tighter, burying my face in its snout.

"I-I don't know," I sob uselessly into its pink nose. "I- I hurt people and I- I robbed stores and I… I was the only one. And if- m-maybe if- if I didn't have this stupid quirk may-maybe they- maybe they would have cared!"

Tulutho makes a kind, humming noise as I fall apart on her couch, listening silently as I curl miserably around the pig and soak its plush nose with my tears. It feels like forever, the sound of her low hums filling my chest.

After my breathing evens back out, she reaches over and squeezes my hand.

Its warm and smoother than any hand I can remember.

"M-Ma'am?" I whisper, feeling small and stupid after the sudden explosion of tears.

"You are safe," the woman says gently, squeezing again. "You can cry and shout and feel here without judgement."

I flush, but don't let go, burying my face back in the pig as I work to control my breathing.

Tulutho releases a soft chuckle, thumb sliding across my knuckles.

"Your guardian has taught you well," she praises me simply. I glance up again, only to find her warm, dark eyes staring back unabashed. After a long moment, I finally do let go, and she sits back and smiles fully, waiting patient as I wipe my face. "Rin-chan, this is one of your emotional wounds. Do you understand that?"

I nod, feeling particularly raw from only a few words.

"I believe it is only one of many," the woman continues, seeming to understand. "Do you know what we do in therapy?"

I take a deep breath, Tulutho's warm scent filling my nostrils, and swallow. The emotion, still stuck in my throat, doesn't quite go away.

"We… We talk about it?"

"In a sense," Tulutho says, smiling with some small amusement. "We will talk about things, many things over our sessions. Your dreams, which I am excited to know, your success, your failures, you. But for at least a while, we will also work together to uncover these wounds. Some of them, you will find, have already begun healing. But others, those that are particularly sensitive, may need much more work."

The idea of doing this again makes me shudder.

Tulutho notices and offers a kind smile without condolences.

"W-Why?" I ask.

"Why what?"

"Why do we have… why do we have to uncover them?"

"Because that is how we heal," she answers, eyes seeming to peer into my very being. "A dirty cut will not heal well, and your inner wounds are the same. Knowing those parts of you that are sensitive, knowing what causes you pain, helps others not to hurt you on accident. But more than that, healing allows more room for joy. It makes more room for dreams and life and love. What type of hero do you want to be?"

The kind that protects, that helps, that never lets people get hurt.

"I… I want to be strong," I tell her quietly. "I… I want to protect Sensei and my classmates and… and doesn't make them scared."

"Consider your quirk," the woman says, a hand rising to her chin. "Which aspect of your quirk will help you do that best?"

I don't even have to consider it.

Black tentacles wrapped around the cashier's neck.

Dark flames licking at Iida's heels.

"My glow," I answer, and I stare down at the pink pig in my hands, a strange sensation filling my chest. It's like when I solve a particularly difficult math problem, but different—wider.

"Rin-chan," she says, catching my attention again. "We are nearly out of time, let us discuss your dreams, and then I will assign your homework."

"Homework?" I repeat, still feeling dazed. "Again?"

"Every time," she chuckles, smiling. "My job is to give you the tools to heal, it is up to you to use them. Now, tell me about you dreams…"

.

.

.

After therapy, I return to training thoughtful and oddly melancholy. Worn in a way that reminds me of my training with Sensei this summer, but somehow less. I cross the room to Sensei first.

"Rin," he greets, raising an eyebrow.

I don't wait for permission, sliding close to hug him tightly. I press my head to his chest and leaning in, breathing the familiar, comforting scent of detergent and home.

"Rin?" he asks, voice coloring with concern. He shifts his clipboard and pats my back, obviously confused. "Are you okay?"

I nod and let go, feeling my classmates' eyes already drifting over.

"I love you," I tell him softly, feeling the tears well again.

Stupid emotions.

He blinks.

"I love you too," he repeats back, eyebrow rising. "Are you crying?"

I flush and duck my head, swiping at my eyes.

"N-No, I… I just wanted you to know. I-I'll go train now."

Sensei catches my shoulder before I can back away. He makes a face, expression bewildered.

"Do you need to sit out?"

"No," I sniffle.

He stares in clear disbelief.

"You're crying."

"I-I'm fine," I try again, scrubbing at my face. "It's… It's supposed to be a-a side effect of the therapy. Tulutho-san says it's normal at first. I- I have to write down my emotions each day, she wants me to rate them in a journal."

I wave the small spiral notebook in my hand.

He nods, still frowning, and I drop the book back to my side.

"I- I just wanna train, I'll be careful. Please Sensei?"

He wilts at my pleading look, dark eyes sweeping my face.

"Fine," he says slowly, hand falling away. "No shadows."

What type of hero do you want to be?

The kind that protects, that helps, that never lets people get hurt.

Which aspect of your quirk will help you do that best?

"Yes sir," I reply. His frown deepens, but I ignore it, already headed towards my godmother.

.

.

.

With the provisional license exams approaching quickly, a sense of urgency falls over all the first years. Shinsou's under eye bags grow darker than ever, Bakugou's attitude takes an even meaner turn, Kirishima and Sero can often be found passed out on the couches, and Sensei's exhausted form can often be found even in the early hours of the morning, draped over notes.

I dive into training with a new determination, lips firm and expression set.

Aunt Nemuri, recognizing my new motivation, pushes me even harder. I manage to expand my wings even further, making them large and strong enough I can glide from one side of the training center to the other.

But unlike my shadows, despite their size, they're brittle and easily dispersed. A single hit from Aunt Nemuri's whip and they shatter like glass.

"Don't give up love," my godmother says with a laugh, pausing as she glances down towards where Toshinori had come to visit. He'd been by more often, especially since him and Sensei's private discussion Wednesday.

It was one where I'd been kicked to the lobby and told not to return until they were done. Midoriya, red-faced and refusing to meet my eye, had all but raced from the room and the new kid, Mineta's replacement, was literally the last person I wanted to spend time with.

So I sat down with Todoroki, content to just stare off into space as he ate cold soba.

"Do you ever eat anything else?" I'd asked, annoyed by their stupid secrecy.

"On occasion," he'd responded, completely unbothered by my tone. He just shrugged, took another bit, and slurped.

I glowered, and when he'd finished, joined Sero and Mina on the couch, deciding to join in on their game when they offered me a spare remote. I never did notice when he left, but he'd been an almost constant presence since. Strolling around the training building, offering advice where he could, and just being there.

He'd only attempted to approach me once.

I'd jumped off the cliff with a glare, wings spread, and landed by a rather confused Aoyama.

I would never make that mistake again. He'd taken one look at my glowing wings and literally spasmed, slipping into to French and gesturing excitedly.

"You are the light to my sparkle!" he'd declared, before immediately twirling and spinning and somehow managing to reflect the glow from my wings like a spotlight across the room.

"Ready to try again?" Midnight asks instead, pulling my attention back. I flush and nod, stepping over to the cliff face and the dizzying dip below. We'd been working on air tricks, specifically building speed as I fell and then changing directions to rise again.

I could do it with my shadow wings and learned it almost instinctively with fear and anger running hot through my veins. But doing it while staying happy… that was different, harder. All I'd managed so far was to manage a running stop that had me nearly bowling Iida over.

Sensei hadn't been amused.

I lean forward, happy thoughts flashing again through my mind, and dive off the cliff. I catch sight of Toshinori and Sensei's eyes as I dive towards the ground, but I don't pay attention. I can't, with the sting of the wind in my eyes, my braid slaps against my neck and back, my stomach jumps into my throat.

Hold, hold, hold it…

I wait until the ground is only a few meters away before focusing my wings wide and open. My body jerks and my back aches as what feels like a fishing hook catches on my spine and drags me to a sudden stop.

The wings flicker, my weight plummets, and I gasp for air as I drop down several meters, rolling and rising completely unsuccessful on unsteady feet.

Ugh. Stupid quirk.

"Young Hoki, are you okay?"

I scowl as my attention shifts, switching to the nervous, gaunt-looking man. My chest aches at the sight of him, the sound of his voice invoking a strange warmth. I shove it away.

All Might.

Liar.

"Fine," I grumble, rubbing my back discretely.

"You looked like you might have-"

"I said I'm fine," I snarl, glaring. "I don't need your help."

I walk away, ignoring Sensei's disapproving look.

I don't care.

Except I do.

Especially when Bakugou nearly drops a two-ton rock on his head. Already gliding in a dive, my mouth goes dry when I catch sight of it. Time slows, my stomach, already caught in my throat, burns as acid coats my tongue. I watch the trajectory, staring as it plummets dangerously towards Toshinori's small figure.

I look up from the hospital bed at a stranger with kind blue eyes, and an unnaturally thin frame, and hair the color of sunlight.

He doesn't change.

"Toshinori-san!" I greet excitedly, scrambling over to hug him. He sits on a large blanket beside Yamada-sensei and Midnight, all three of them circled around a small cooler. I take up the spot beside him, arms wrapping around his middle and smiling up at bright, kind eyes. "What are you doing here?"

He still doesn't change, mouth opening in a silent shout.

"Why would I care?" I ask, even more suspicious. "I don't like All Might and I don't care what his stupid civilian form looks like."

"Because Toshinori is concerned you will reject him out of principal."

My wings blacken and expand, nightmarish and ragged and wide. They adjust midflight like they wouldn't before, but I'm still too far, blue eyes wide.

My heart hammers in my chest.

"You… don't like All Might?" Toshinori asks, his voice oddly strained. "Why's that? He's the number one hero!"

It's only Midoriya's physical speed and head start that destroys the stone before my tentacles can reach.

I swerve, shadows dispersing from my arms, and use that speed to climb, moving vertical up the cliff-face and dropping elegantly on the top. The wings dissolve and I stare, expression shuddered as the blonde's fear transforms to astonishment—to pride as he looks at Midoriya.

Midoriya who had known.

Sensei, however, stares back, expression seemingly bored if not for the tiny tilt to his lips.

I scowl, hands fisting at my side.

Why didn't he transform and stop it himself?