That night, I sleep deeply.

I don't know if it's exhaustion from the day or just the weight of all of the emotions, but I don't dream. Instead, I wake to crusty eyes and a family, sleepy melancholy.

Your mother passed away three years ago.

She had a heart attack.

She's not coming back.

I sigh, staring at the soft duvet beneath my fingers, the light blue color cool under my touch. I wonder what she would have thought about this, about me living in a hero's home, giving him hugs, telling him I love you.

Would she hate me too?

It's not like you'll ever find out.

I close my eyes and breathe. Taking a long, steady breath before throwing my legs out of the bed and rising for the day. The routine is easy, familiar. I dress in record time, the motions so well worn I barely focus. Hair in a braid, phone in my pocket, I slip into the kitchen quietly, pulling out my bowl and pouring my cereal in silence.

I'm nearly finished when Sensei joins me, his eyes rimmed in red and lips downturned. While he rarely bothers with his hair, this morning it looks even more chaotic than normal and his hero outfit particularly wrinkly.

Like he'd slept in, except he looks like he hasn't slept a wink.

I stir the dredges of milk, concerned.

"Sensei?"

"Good morning," my guardian intones flatly, a bowl of coffee already in hand. He sits across from me and scowls, a set of paper and a marker crunched together.

I blink, wide-eyed, and he glowers down, nostrils flaring.

When he makes no move to talk about it, I hesitantly try again.

"Did… Did something happen?"

"Your classmates are idiots," he grumps before hiding his annoyance behind a sip from his bowl, it's nearly empty when he puts it back down and I wonder if maybe I shouldn't start another. He doesn't ask for it though, instead grabbing and unscrewing his marker, he writes 'Under House Arrest' in a straight, heavy hand. I flush, not all that sure I want to know what that's about. "There will be an assembly this morning. I'll need to leave early so I'll see you afterward. Walk with your classmates there and don't take any detours."

I watch as he copies the House Arrest statement onto the paper beneath it, barely listening.

Did someone get arrested?

If so, she'd never seen someone make a sign about it, and she'd seen it plenty. Several of her housemates had been under house arrest at the Last One, Niko twice and Kagura once that she remembered. But there tended to be ankle monitors and police involved and she… She hadn't heard a siren…

Had she slept that deeply?

That was a weird thought. She used to not, except when she was sick…

"House arrest?" I ask in spite of myself. "Was someone arrested?"

"No," Sensei grunts. "Though had anyone else caught them, absolutely. The use of quirks in public spaces and destruction of property without specific permission, endangerment, or licenses is illegal, not to mention idiotic."

I furrow my brows.

Sensei sighs, stretching his neck, and gives me a look.

"They're grounded," he says flatly.

I…

I can't help it.

I grin.

Sensei's expression is entirely disapproving.

"Rin…"

I don't even try to hide it.

"Do they have to write essays?" I ask gleefully. Finally. Just the idea that someone—anyone—gets to share in the absolute frustration of those stupid essays… I hope they end up writing out several pages only to have it marked in red and given back. "Was it Midoriya? I can't think of anyone else doing something annoying enough for you to ground them, and he likes to break bones, which you don't like. Oh, wait… Hey Sensei, if he didn't have a quirk before, is that why he's so bad at using his? You wouldn't ground him for that though… Oh, but, huh… you have two… who is are they? Iida? Todoroki? Kaminari? Kaminari isn't usually dumb enough to get in big trouble like that, Bakugou maybe?"

"Rin," Sensei scolds, eye twitching. "Unless you want to join them, I suggest you eat your food."

I snort and tip back the bowl.

Swallowing it all in several, gulps, I drop it down on the table with a clatter. I swipe at my mouth and turn to Sensei.

"Done! So who was it?"

"None of your business. If you're done go join your classmates, I'm about to leave."

"In that?" I ask snidely. "Don't you have one less wrinkly? I thought you said it was an assembly, aren't we supposed to look nice?"

At his pointed glare, I quickly grab my bowl and rinse it in the sink.

"Someone's grumpy," I mutter under my breath.

"Someone else is going to be grounded," he says darkly. "This is your warning. I suggest you control yourself."

"Hmph," I huff, standing and lifting my nose into the air. I stomp past him to get my things, and on the way back, he grabs my elbow and pulls me over.

He smells like home, like safety and hugs and ridiculous smiles and rules.

I twitch and fall into him.

He catches me automatically.

It's so comforting, it almost feels like a dream.

Your mother passed away three years ago.

Sensei sighs.

The chair screeches as he pushes it back, pulling me close until I fit neatly against him. He leans back, arms wrapping around and holding me there. He's so warm.

I don't want to move.

I suck in a shuddering breath.

"Breathe," he says quietly, making no comment about the tears I know he feels dampening his wrinkly outfit. A hand slides through my hair instead. "Do you need to stay home?"

I suck in a deep breath and consider it.

"No," I whisper slowly. The idea of staying home alone in this quiet apartment with nothing but my thoughts… that sounds almost worse than school. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine, but you need to curb the disrespect. I expect you to remove yourself when you become overwhelmed or particularly grumpy, do you understand?"

"Yes sir," I whisper moodily. Closing my eyes, I press my forehead against the side of his neck and breathe. I can feel the little whiskery hairs beneath his chin as they dig into my head. "You were angry."

"I'm allowed to be angry, that doesn't mean I take it out on you. I'm frustrated and disappointed in your classmates. I'm aggravated that the night you pass an important test you spent most of it upset instead of happy, and I'm tired. I've been up most of the night dealing with the paperwork from that mess and making plans in case you can't make it through an entire day. If I'm short, it's because of that. It still doesn't give you the right to be rude and I'm not going to tell you who the students are. It's not your business."

I nod and Sensei sighs again, chin falling forward to press against my hair.

His breath, hot against my scalp, is soothing.

"Can you behave and function in a reasonable manner?" he grumbles flatly.

I nod.

He makes a low noise.

"Words, Rin."

I sigh as well.

"Yes, Sensei."

"Good, now go join your classmates. If you feel overwhelmed, excuse yourself. If you feel upset, excuse yourself. If you feel particularly angry or grumpy, excuse yourself. The same goes for every other emotion. If at any point today you feel like you can't continue, you are to excuse yourself and come find me. Your teachers are aware of the circumstances and your classmates will respect whatever you decide to tell them. You just have to communicate, understood?"

"Yes, sir."

He drops a kiss on my head and lets go. I slide from his lap and glance nervously at his face.

He really doesn't look mad, staring droopy-eyed back.

He just looks like him, kind, silly Sensei.

My guardian.

"Try to think about positive things, we'll talk further this afternoon."

"O-Okay."

He blinks and I take my cue, quickly leaning forward to peck at his cheek. It's all prickly as usual.

His eyes slide towards me in a look.

"Goodbye Rin, I'll see you in homeroom."

I shoulder my bag and blush.

"Bye Sensei."

.

.

.

I walk with my classmates to the school.

Mina laughs, Toru giggles, Kaminari tells jokes, and Kirishima glances worriedly back. I trail at the back, hands in my pocket and staring at the sky. It's a pretty day.

"Ah, Hoki-chan, is everything alright?" Iida asks cautiously and creeping over. For such a large person, it's almost strange that he manages to look cowed so easily. "You've, ah… been quiet."

Todoroki, on his other side, nods.

Honestly, I'm not really sure what to say.

Is there even a transition for that?

Yeah, my mom died. I haven't seen her since I was ten though and while I'm sad, I… I don't really miss her. I kinda feel like I'm supposed to be sadder though...

Yeah, that'll go over great.

Picking at the fabric near my pockets, I remember Sensei's words from earlier.

Your teachers are aware of the circumstances and your classmates will respect whatever you decide to tell them. You just have to communicate, understood?

"Yeah," I croak, shoving my hands even further in my pockets and looking away. "I… I just don't wanna cry."

Iida, still staring, makes a noise.

"Ah," he says and then, glancing forward, seems to struggle for a topic. Something in my chest lightens at the familiarity of it, thankful for once it isn't me. "We, ah, well, today should be a nice day! I heard on the weather this morning it's supposed to be sunny all week! Sunny weather is always great for training! I, for one, intend to utilize the beautiful day this afternoon to work on my endurance!"

Out of all the topics you could choose from, you pick the weather?

I wonder if this is how Shinsou feels.

I pat his shoulder consolingly.

"Thanks," I mumble quietly.

He brightens.

"Of course Hoki-chan! Do you have a particular training method you prefer?"

I consider it.

"I like sparring," I admit with a tired smile. "I think… I think I want to learn more healing techniques too."

"Like first aid?" Todoroki asks oddly, eyebrows furrowed.

I glance his way as well, taking in the mismatched eyes and scar.

I wonder how he got it.

He blinks back confused.

I shrug.

"Yeah. Sensei said they had battlefield medicine. I want to be able to do more than just hurt people."

Iida nods with a knowing look, and I can see the memory replaying in his head.

"You know nothing about me. You have no idea what I've done! When I was five, I robbed gas stations with my mother," I say, the words tasting like knives in my mouth. He stumbles back, hand retreating, eyes wide. "I watched them cower, I covered them with shadows, and mother threatened to kill them if they didn't hand over the cash."

"So say it again, tell me you care," I tell him viciously, swiping at my face.

I turn my back. I don't want to see him leave.

I'm tired of watching them leave.

"I care."

"That's a good idea! There's always a need for competent healers, and I'm sure that whatever you put your mind to, you'll do well!"

I smile, amused as the taller boy's cheeks redden.

"Thank you," I tell him honestly, trying not to notice others' weighted stares or the suddenly too quiet conversations. His glasses gleam and I can't help the laugh bubbling up at his dramatics. "You're a good friend."

"Of- Of course Hoki-chan!"

I squeak when he stops, bends forward, and pulls me into a tight hug.

The smell of exhaust mixed with strong soap.

After a moment, I relax into it.

"Awe," Mina giggles. "You two better stop or Shinsou-kun'll be jealous."

"Hah! Is it just me or does he kinda look like Sensei?" Toru asks, her jacket sleeve waving in front of her. "I mean, have you noticed? They even have the same glare! You better be careful Iida-kun, you know how they get about Rin-chan!"

I flush instantly, turning in their direction.

They get a certain way?

"W-What?" Iida stutters.

"Aw! C'mon guys!" Kirishima chuckles. "Don't tease!"

I pout and pull away, sticking out my tongue. It doesn't stop my slight glow, especially as Iida begins waving his arms in denial.

Todoroki just shakes his head.

.

.

.

The assembly is boring. Principal Nedzu spends forever talking about his fur of all things.

Classes are boring.

And the day, honestly, seems to drag on forever.

By the time lunch rolls around, I just slump into a seat, wondering if I really should have taken Sensei up on that offer to stay home.

And get behind?

I rub my eyes and sigh.

When I open them, I blink at the two strangers joining me.

"Hi," says a pretty blonde, with large blue eyes a rather perky expression.

I blink again and wonder if I'm hallucinating.

"Uh… hi?"

She doesn't go away. Neither, for that matter, does the boy, though he does seem highly amused.

I furrow my brows and frown.

"I'm Makoto!" squeaks the blonde immediately, squirming in her seat as she breaks into a large grin. "but you can call me Mako. I know we've never met, but I feel like we've known each other for ages! Hitoshi-kun talks about you sometimes, I mean, not a lot, but he doesn't really talk about anything a lot, you know? And when he does talk about something, it's usually work, or studying, or you know, hero-related, but if not those then it's you. So hi! It's nice to meet you!"

I blink and try to process all of that.

What?

"Ah… hi again?"

The dark-skinned boy beside her snorts.

"Ignore her, she's been bullying Toshi for ages to come meet you. I'm Daisuke, by the way."

Pulling myself up into a sitting position, I try to remember my manners. It's strangely difficult. Why are these people here?

"Hoki Rin," I mutter.

"Awe! You're so quiet!" Mako-chan says, face splitting into a grin. "I bet you're shy! Sometimes I get shy, but not really. Oh! My quirk is Orange by the way! I bet you've never heard of something like that! Hah, that's because it's utterly useless! I can smell like oranges! Wanna see?"

I follow her excited fluttering wide-eyed, much in the same way someone watches an accident unfold.

She cackles, tugs back her sleeve, and then surges over the table, nearly knocking over her plate in the motion. Daisuke, beside her, makes a noise, but it goes unheard. I nearly slide out of my seat, overwhelmed as she thrusts her suddenly exposed wrist under my nose.

I don't know what to do.

"Sniff it!" she squeals.

I inhale quickly, eyes wide.

The boy, Daisuke, groans.

"Mako!"

"Just kidding!" she laughs, slipping back and grinning. "What'd it smell like?"

What?

"Arm," I answer stiffly, eyes narrowing.

Are these really Hitoshi's friends?

I'm saved from asking it aloud as Hitoshi slides in the seat beside me, expression sour and tray smacking against the table.

"Mako-chan," he snaps. "What are you doing?"

"Showing me her quirk," I answer, giving both a look. Daisuke palms his head and Mako grins, sheepish. "Orange, apparently."

"I was kidding," Mako whines, shrinking under Hitoshi's glare. She turns to me and flaps her hands nervously. "Sorry, sorry! I just got excited!"

"You're an idiot," Daisuke mutters.

I'm inclined to agree.

"Why are you two here?" the purple-haired boy interrupts, eyes narrowed and arms crossing. "I thought we were meeting after school."

Daisuke channels a very impressive you're-an-idiot look.

"To eat lunch, obviously," he says, picking up his food. Then, pretending like the blonde's weird moment didn't just happen, he takes a bite and scowls. "Dude, classes are boring without you. I mean don't get me wrong, I'm excited for yah. If anyone deserved to be transferred, it was definitely you, but it's not the same."

I furrow my eyebrows as the girl pouts and nods glumly.

I shift in my seat, suddenly uncertain.

Maybe I should go?

"I… I can move," I tell Hitoshi, immediately noticing his regret.

He opens his mouth, but the blonde quickly cuts him off.

"Move?" Mako-chan says, eyes widening. "Is it because of my joke? I'm sorry! I mean, I really am! I'm awful at first impressions, but I can do better! Oh, let me try again! Here, ahem, um, hi! My name's Suzuki Makoto, but I go by Mako to anyone I like! I like having fun and singing karaoke and really anything loud! My favorite subject is math and I hate English, but I really really like Present Mic-sensei! My quirk is really stupid, but it's not orange. I can make my nails light up, see?"

This time she doesn't stuff her hand in my face and instead squishes up her nose in concentration.

It takes a few seconds (Sensei would make her work on that), but her nails eventually glow a dull, sickly green.

She waves them excitedly as they fade away.

"Oh, uh…"

"They've been trying to meet you for months," Hitoshi sighs, shaking his head. "You can go if you want, but they sat over here to talk to you too."

To me?

I frown, glancing towards the girl, face eager, and the boy smiling disarmingly back.

But… Why?

"I heard you liked our marshmallow competition," the boy, Daisuke, says in a much more even tone. He winks and tilts his head. "You wanna try for yourself?"

"Oooh! I brought marshmallows!" Mako says, dancing in her seat. "I always have extra marshmallows! I wanna compete! I bet I can beat you this time, last time you cheated and made me sneeze!"

Hitoshi, beside me, raises an eyebrow.

"And that's not suspicious," he says dryly. "How long have you two had this planned?"

"Us?" teases the blonde, grinning widely. "All month!"

Daisuke, leaning forward, ignores them both.

"Well?" he asks, eyebrows wiggling unnecessarily. "Think you can beat me hero-girl?"

My eyes narrow dangerously.

Hero-girl? Is he serious?

"Are you suggesting I can't?"

"I dunno," Hitoshi says, glancing my way and scratching a small bump on his chin. "you do have a pretty big mouth."

I glower.

"Excuse me?"

"But then again, so does Daisuke, so who knows."

The other boy flips him a bird.

I bark out a laugh, surprising even myself and that seems to be all the reply Mako needs. Reaching into her bag, she pulls out three, massive bags of half-squished marshmallows, a pair of sunglasses, comics, a bag of makeup, and a crumpled-up Ziplock of napkins.

This is ridiculous.

I take my pile regardless.

Think you can beat me hero-girl?

Absolutely.

"Toshi-kun, you're the judge!"

"Don't call me that," the purple-haired boy huffs.

He judges anyways.

.

.

.

I win.

.

.

.

"While I'm sure many of you are eager to sign up for the hero work studies immediately, you should hold off and focus your attention on your studies. The faculty intends to vote on it in the next few days and I'll inform you when we've come to a decision. As a reminder, you are all not allowed to speak of this to your two missing classmates. You should not share notes, explain information, or do anything that constitutes helping them catch up. They brought this on themselves, am I understood?"

The class choruses 'yes, sirs' and Aizawa-sensei nods.

"Very well, you're dismissed."

Before he can gather his things and leave, I spring up from my desk.

"Sensei, Sensei!" I squeak excitedly.

He looks up and sighs at the commotion, expression melting into annoyance when I grin innocently back.

Around us, my classmates, already packing, titter in amusement. Kaminari and Kyoka snickers, Kirishima beams, and even Tokoyami seems to smile—though that's a little tough to tell with a beak.

"Why are you making so much noise?" he asks sourly.

I wiggle barely able to contain myself.

"Cause I'm amazing!"

Momo, now occupying Mineta's old seat in front of me, giggles into her hand.

Sensei's lip twitches.

"Are you now?" he asks, clearly deciding to humor me. "And what have you done?"

Light spills across my skin instantly.

"I got Ectoplasm-sensei's question right! It was super long, but I got it right on the first try!" I gush, pulling at my sleeves and dancing in my spot. Nobody in class looks particularly surprised, I'd been flickering on and off all afternoon much to Aunt Nemuri's delight. "And- And at lunch, I won the marshmallow competition! Hitoshi-kun's friends sat with me at lunch and we had a competition to see how many marshmallows someone could stuff in their mouth! Mako-chan only got like six, but that's because she wouldn't stop laughing. Daisuke-kun got twelve, but I managed fourteen!"

Sensei looks like he doesn't know whether to smile or scowl. Instead, he turns to the rest of the class still loitering by their seats.

"Do you all need extra lessons?"

I snicker as they clear out instantly.

Then, packing my bag, I quickly cross the room and hug him. He sighs and lets me, almost looking fond. I lean my head back and smile.

"I want a kiss!"

He raises an eyebrow.

"And you think I answer your demands?"

I stick out my tongue.

"Yes! If not, I'll go ask my classmates for one! I bet if I glow, Dark Shadow would give me one."

Sensei snorts, leans forward, and drops his lips against my head.

I squeal when the rough hairs on his chin tickle my nose.

He shakes his head.

"What have you been eating?" he asks, pushing me away. "Go get your things, you have an appointment with the therapist this afternoon."

I pout but do, spinning in little circles before grabbing my bag and spinning back.

Sensei waits for me at the door, seeming bewildered.

The walk to Tulutho's room is incredibly fun, probably because I keep playing with my glow. Sensei shuffles in his normal walk and I attempt to teach my glowing arms shadow puppets—except with light.

"Walk properly," he huffs when I nearly slip on the floor.

I flush.

Tulutho is waiting for us when we arrive.

Without hesitating, I grin at the tall, dark-skinned woman and slide into the room going straight for the couch. My papers and markers are waiting for me and I twist immediately to show him. Sensei, however, lingers in the doorway, looking uncomfortable.

I pat my seat, and he walks stiffly over.

"Look Sensei!" I say, pulling out some of my drawings. They're all on the bottom and I pick the best to show him. "Look what I made!"

He takes the three I hand him, and I can feel him slowly begin to unwind.

"It's Miska and Yamada-sensei and us!"

At the last page, his face turns strangely blank.

"Ah, Rin-chan, welcome. Aizawa-san, thank you for coming."

Sensei drops the papers and leans back. It's not like the way he does at home though. There he just sort of slides down and droops, this seems more… rigid? tight?

"You said you wanted to see me," he retorts dryly.

I pull some blank paper over and begin to draw.

"Yes," she says, her thick accent warming. I've never met anyone with an accent like hers, I kinda wonder where she's from. "I wish to speak to you and Rin-chan about her journal."

I blink and glance up.

"The emotion one?" I ask, furrowing my eyebrows.

She nods, hands settled on the small paper pad on her lap.

I open my bag and pull out the thin notebook she had given me. It wasn't like normal notebooks, with little circles for your emotions and numbers beside to rate their scale, and then little lines to put the date and an explanation at the end to add notes. We'd done the first together, taping a couple 'cheat sheets' as she called them to the front.

I hesitate to hand it over.

"Are… Are you going to read it?" I ask nervously.

She shakes her head and smiles.

She has a really nice smile.

"Not unless you ask me to," she says lightly. "It is yours, isn't it?"

I flush, strangely relieved.

"If you would," the woman says, going on. "Silently read through the entries. You've been using it all week, yes?"

I nod and quickly open it to the front, scanning the day. Sad, happy, sad, mad. I'm surprised at the sheer number of emotions I logged; well aware I hadn't always tried.

"What patterns are you seeing?"

"Um, there's a lot?" I admit, flipping the page.

Sensei, beside me, snorts.

"Yes," Tulutho says, lips twitching up as well. "But take a moment to examine the intensity. What numbers do you see the most?"

I frown.

8. 5. 9. 7. 3. 8. 7.

"There's… there's a lot of high numbers?" I mumble, suddenly unsure. "Is… Is that weird?"

Sensei's arm slides across my shoulders immediately, and I kind of wish we were at home so I could curl up against him.

Something tells me doing that here would not be okay…

Tulutho shrugs.

"Weird is an impractical quantifier," she says, and I'm struck by the odd phrasing. She can't lie. "Is it standard compared to your peers? If I were to compare you to the average civilian, no. Compared to others with your particular background? Absolutely. It's why I wished to speak with you both."

I furrow my brows.

Us both?

She turns her dark eyes to Sensei and my insides churn.

"Rin exhibits symptoms of multiple diagnoses, including PTSD, generalized anxiety, depression, and what may or may not be a mood disorder. According to her own data, her emotions are overwhelming. I am aware that Shuzenji-san has suggested medication, I would like to know if you have considered it further."

I swallow.

Sensei sighs.

"Medicine?" I ask quietly. "Am… Am I sick?"

The tall woman turns to me and frowns.

"No," she says, and the honesty in that one word is like a soothing balm. "But you are wounded. The trauma inflicted upon you by others is bleeding into your everyday life. Here."

She cuts off and flips through her notepad, stopping when she comes to a certain page. In a quick motion, she tugs it loose and places it between us. It's an illustration. Two boxes sit side by side and filled with four colors. In the first, the yellow one covers most of it with green, pink, and blue being pushed to the sides.

I frown as I read the tags.

Self-respect, healthy attachment, positive emotions. The large yellow one, the impact of trauma, has little arrows pushing out of it.

"You are not equipped to prescribe medicine," Sensei says, folding his arms. "So I fail to see the relevance of this discussion."

"It is relevant because you signed a medical waiver," Tulutho responds evenly. "I have already spoken to Recovery Girl and she is willing to prescribe antidepressants based on our shared data. I wish to understand why you do not and answer questions as I am able."

My eyes slide to the other square. Unlike the previous, the yellow blob in this one is much smaller, nearly the same as the others with green, pink, and blue taking up their own corners.

I look up and frown at Sensei's downturned lip.

"The side effects are unacceptable," he says flatly.

Tulutho frowns, eyebrows furrowing.

"What side effects?" I ask curiously.

"Difficulty sleeping, headaches, dizziness, blurred vision, diarrhea or constipation, nausea, dry mouth, and sweating." Sensei recites sternly.

I shrink.

"That… that sounds terrible," I admit.

Tulutho shakes her head.

"Yes, read like a laundry list I'm certain it does. However, they do not always occur, and in what Shuzenji-san has prescribed, side effects usually recede after two weeks. If they do not, we would find another. Forgive my bluntness, Aizawa-san, it is not my intention to impede your authority, but I fear you are not being rational."

I swallow.

Sensei scowls.

"And the suicidal ideations?"

The what?

"If either of us thought Rin was in danger of regressing from this, would we really be having this discussion?" she says sharply. "I have an adopted son, Aizawa-san, one that suffered in many of the same ways. I would speak to you now as a parent. My child struggled. Terrible tantrums, manic states, periods of depression, and exacerbated moods highlighted by extreme attachment. Medicine will not fix this. Nothing but time and support and love will. But it is like turning down a radio in their mind. One, Rin has just said, is playing uncomfortably loud."

Sensei's hand settles against my head.

I relax against it, feeling the uncomfortable air clear.

"I will consider it."

Tulutho smiles.

"That is all I ask.

.

.

.

I leave Tulutho's office alone.

Sensei, refusing to stick around through the entire appointment, takes the pictures with him and leaves. I don't ask why, just shrugging and turning back and drawing new ones. Tulutho takes the time to explain all the weird acronyms she used to me then. PTSD, Anxiety, Depression

I'd thought depression was just when you were super sad. Apparently, it was more like when you don't want to get out of bed, reminding me when I first found out about Kaito.

"H-Hoki-chan!" Midoriya shouts, breaking me out of my daze.

I blink and look around before spotting him in the direction of the trash.

"Hey," I reply. I wait, quiet, as he jogs over. Taking in his scratched-up face and dusty clothes. For someone grounded, he sure looks lively.

"What… uh, what are you doing out so late?"

I slip my hands in my pockets and shrug.

"I had an appointment with Tulutho-san."

Midoriya's eyes widen.

"Y-You have her too?" He immediately reddens and flaps his hands. "Sorry! Sorry! That came out rude, I mean, it's just… All Might made it sound like I was the only one. I guess that makes sense though. We've all been through a lot."

I remember his scream in the forest and shiver before nodding soberly.

"Yeah."

There's an awkward pause between us before I shrug and start towards the dorms. He falls in step automatically.

"Do you like her?"

I blink at the random question before he smiles boyishly and rubs his head.

"Tulutho-san, I mean."

"Ah…" I huff, nodding slightly. "You forgot your transition."

His cheeks flush a bright pink.

"Yeah, guess I did." He pauses, almost nervous before grinning. "What would Shinsou-kun think?"

"Probably nothing," I snort, amused. "Sensei does it all the time. I would think you need practice."

He barks out a laugh.

"Yeah, probably," he says, and I can't help but notice the freckles splattered unevenly all across his nose crease when he grins. "I'm not usually that good with people, so I'll have to keep trying. I wasn't very popular at my old school."

My smile dims.

"Because you were quirkless?"

I twitch, immediately regretting the sudden conversation turn.

Don't bring attention to it.

He twitches uncomfortably.

"Ah…," he says, crossing his arms. "I, uh…"

I don't know how to fix it. Breathing deeply, I decide to plunge ahead anyway.

Sensei says sharing things helps…

"My brothers were too," I tell him, interrupting his strange mumbles. "Quirkless, I mean. My whole family was."

Midoriya falls quiet, and I don't need to glance his way to feel the weight of his gaze.

"They… were?"

I nearly sigh in relief.

"Yeah," I admit, hands in my pockets. "They were constantly getting in fights. When… When the suits took us, I think Ryu was about to be kicked out of school. He's my oldest brother. Kaito wasn't so bad, but he'd get dragged into a lot because of Sora and Ryu."

"Oh," Midoriya says, and I can hear the surprise in his voice. "I… I sometimes fought Kaa-chan, but that was it. I really just wanted to be a hero."

I wrinkle my nose.

That probably shouldn't surprise me…

Remember his room?

"Really?" I ask, looking his way.

He grins ruefully back, one hand nervously rubbing his bandaged neck.

"Yeah," he says, awkward. "Stupid, huh? As if someone quirkless could be a hero…"

I frown.

Wait, what?

"That's stupid," I grunt. "Why couldn't they be a hero?"

The green-haired boy blinks.

"You… You think they could?"

I give him a weird look.

"Yeah," I tell him oddly with brows furrowed. "My brother didn't have any problem being a villain."

Midoriya's eyes widen.

I don't pay attention, focusing instead on the dorms already coming into view.

I slump.

"Sensei's gonna be annoyed I talked about that," I mumble. "He told me not to."

Midoriya chuckles nervously.

"Ah… yeah, he told me the same. Maybe we could, ah… just not mention it?"

I throw him a curious glance.

"Like a secret?" I ask, oddly interested.

"Yeah," he says, freckles wrinkling again. His eyes sparkle and I blink in surprise. "Just between us?"

I flush.

"I… okay," I say, slowing to a stop when he thrust out a pinky.

I can't even remember the last time someone did that.

Maybe in one of the earlier homes? Before… Before the last one?

Fireflies flicker across my arms and face. Midoriya beams at them, and I quickly curl my finger around his. The fireflies buzz around them both, much to his delight.

"OI! YOU SHITTY DEKU! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?"

He jumps nearly a foot in the air and away.

I giggle.

"YOU BETTER GET YOUR ASS BACK IN HERE AND HELP!" Bakugou screams from the door, cartoonishly mad. Midoriya offers a sheepish smile.

"I, ah, gotta go," he says, still eyeing the fireflies. "I'll… uh, see you later Hoki-chan!"

"Rin," I correct.

He doesn't hear, rushing ahead.