The next morning, I wake early and update the board.
With dawn whispering into my empty room and most of my classmates still asleep in their rooms, it's quiet. Peaceful. The bulletin board is still where I left it, still covered in an assortment of papers, with pictures, index cards, and newspaper clippings pinned in large clumps and string crisscrossing in abstract patterns. I trace the red thread silently, fingers ghosting across the headlines and pictures.
Codename Asp: The quirkless villain in disguise!
Missing Persons' Report
Hoki, Kaito.
I stare at the last, fingers lingering over the boy in the grainy picture with dark eyes.
You injected me with someone else's quirk—with someone else's blood?
You would think, after all of the stupid shit he's done, that this wouldn't hurt. It wasn't anywhere near as bad as tying me up and forcing me to watch my housemates die. Wasn't even close to attacking my classmates or breaking my ribs. Hell, it shouldn't even register after threatening Aizawa and Yamada-sensei.
It was stupid and little and- and really, what was one more bastard move in what felt like a million?
But Mama's gone, Ryu's gone, and Kaito—
Bastard!
He injected me with someone else's blood! Does he even know who it belongs to? Was it some creepy old man or did he bleed some kid? That was gross. It was gross and he put them in me and- and-
And I felt dirty.
I don't even know why I still cared.
I drop my hand and scowl at his picture. Young, handsome, and whole. The same dark eyes that I saw every day in the mirror staring back.
"Why?" I manage, voice cracking.
Why would you do this? Why did you turn into such a fucking bastard? How could you do this to me-
"Hoki?"
I flinch hard, nearly jumping as I twist towards the door. It takes a moment to recognize him, my mouth suddenly dries at the red and white hair. Todoroki. I struggle to find my voice, and he just stands there. Face blank, arms just hanging at his sides.
He hesitates for a second before seeming to decide something. Quiet footsteps as he steps into the room.
"What are you doing?"
Realizing I'm staring, I turn back to the board immediately, face hot and stomach twisting in my gut. I glower at the board, at the dark, mocking eyes, and cross my arms.
"N-Nothing, I just… I just updated it," I grumble, uncomfortable. "What are you doing on the girl's hall anyway?"
He doesn't say anything, and for a moment I wonder if he'll just turn around and leave.
He doesn't.
A moment later he's beside me, shoulder only inches away, close enough that if I leaned, I could brush against him.
"Uraraka and I were going to jog."
"Oh," I grumble, scratching my shoulder. I can feel my shirt shift with the movement. His eyes feel hot as they drift from my face to the pocket scars stamped chaotically down my neck and chest. He doesn't say anything, just stares.
Like he doesn't have his own scars.
I glower at my brother's photo, remembering the puckered, discolored skin.
"It was a-" I cut off and lick my lips, Shinsou's voice suddenly loud in my head. That's not a prank. "My roommates put powder in my shirt. I had a reaction that left scars."
Todoroki doesn't answer, but there's a sort of tightness in his features that wasn't there before. I take in the pinked skin around his eye, patchy and raised.
I wonder how he got his.
"Oh."
I let out a quiet puff of air.
Well, this is awkward.
"Right," I manage, shrugging. "Uh, have fun on your jog."
I shake my head and turning to leave. I need to go finish my homework anyways. Sensei had made some comments about checking it after lunch and training this afternoon. He'd be annoyed if I didn't do it again. I raise my hand in a half-hearted wave before shuffling towards the door.
It was probably a good thing he interrupted me anyways.
I didn't even want to imagine if Toru had been the one to find me... or Kyoka. The headphone girl had been rather open about her feelings regarding my 'obsession.'
"He isn't worth the ink it took to write his name, much less all this trouble. We should just make some dolls of him and burn them."
"Hoki," he interrupts, and I pause reaching the doorframe. Glancing back, I take in his relaxed posture.
"Yes?"
"My sister said she would look through the hero database for the foster children."
It takes me a moment to figure out what he's talking about, but when I do, my eyes widen in surprise.
They narrow a moment later.
The other children from the foster care that Kaito had gone to? Todoroki's sister had access to it? Weren't they only accessible to heroes? Why?
"How?" I ask suspiciously, trying to remember anything I can about his family. "Is she a hero?"
"No, she just helps Endeavor sometimes with his paperwork," he shrugs. "She said she'd call this evening."
I have no idea what to say to that.
Endeavor? Wasn't that the grumpy-looking hero with the flames? The one that took All Might's place?
Maybe they were dating? His sister could be older, or maybe she was like Kagura and just liked everybody? Nee-chan had tried to go out with this old man one time, but Yui-san had put a quick stop to that. Still… she often got tons of things from the people she was dating…
"Ah… Thank you," I mumble lowly before bowing. "That… you didn't have to do that."
"It's what friends do," he says with another one of his weird shrugs.
I can't help but stare.
Friends?
Something warm and bright fills my chest. And if I… If not for the medicine, I was sure I'd glow.
"Helping," I repeat. "Why?"
"Cause we're friends," Sero replies raising an eyebrow. "I thought we went over this last weekend."
"Th-Thank you Todoroki-kun."
He gives me a weird look.
"Sure."
.
.
.
Sensei checks over my homework after lunch.
With his hair pulled back and eyes narrowed, he reads through Art first and then English and Literature. He saves math for last, probably since it's the most frustrating, and that usually gets the most corrections.
So I'm completely unprepared when he hands it back with a nod.
"Well done."
I stare at it incomprehensibly, before the words seem to register, dropping my jaw.
"There's no- really? There's no corrections?" I squeak.
"It's correct," he says, eyebrow rising and a small, tired smile slipping across his face.
I jump ecstatically to my feet, crossing the space and throwing my arms around his neck. Sensei startles making a noise somewhere between a chuckle and grunt. I ignore it completely, leaning forward to layer a million kisses on his prickly cheek.
"I did it! I did it!" I squawk between kisses.
"Rin!" he snaps, one hand reaching up and covering my mouth. I giggle against it, his rough callouses warm even as he tries to adopt a stern look. "Stop that."
Leaning away, I use both hands to shove down his arm and grin.
"But I did it!"
"Clearly," he answers dryly, shaking me off.
I grin unrepentantly, and before I can latch on again, he's shoving the plates from lunch towards my stomach. I yelp, but catch them quickly, adjusting immediately to balance them as he stacks everything including the glasses and utensils on top.
"Don't drop them," he huffs, before giving me a pointed look. "If you're this energetic, you can wash."
I pout but don't argue. Then, with a giggle, I twirl on my socks and slide across the floor to the sink. Sensei twitches as the glasses clink and wobble, but ultimately says nothing when I set them noisily against the counter. Instead, he slumps in his seat, mumbling about energetic teenagers.
He must be tired.
"You could be too if you ever slept," I mutter under my breath.
"Rin," Sensei warns, eyes narrowing.
Flushing, I turn on the water and pour a little too much dish soap in. It immediately turns to suds, and I vigorously slosh until it foams. Grabbing the dishes, I dump them unceremoniously in and grin.
"I did it! I really did it!"
Sensei snorts, eyes slipping closed, and crosses his arms.
"You're ridiculous."
I make a face at the back of his head, before washing the dishes. It doesn't take long, and afterward, I pull the plug in the drain, grin at the water spiraling away, and clean the counters. I return to find Sensei still dozing lazily in his chair.
"We could train later," I offer, poking his side and giggling when he cracks open an eye to glare.
"It's fine," he grumbles, yawning and stretching. His body makes all sorts of cracks as he stands, and he rolls his shoulders before slumping over lazily.
I watch in amusement as he reaches under his shirt and scratches his stomach.
"Aunt Nemuri has abs too," I share randomly.
He pauses before looking at me, expression wrinkling in disgust.
"Go get ready," he grumbles, dropping his shirt. "We'll discuss that this evening."
I blink.
"Discuss what?" I ask, confused.
"Later," he grimaces. "Are you training in that?"
I glance down at my semi-wet shirt before shrugging.
"Yeah, I guess? It'll be dry by the time we get to the clearing, it's warm outside."
"Hn," he says, obviously not caring. "Then let's go."
.
.
.
After the last two weeks of dealing with the side effect of medicine, the opportunity to train is amazing. Exciting. I stretch vigorously, bathing in the steady sunlight and delighting in the pull as my muscles lengthen and burn.
"Are we going to spar?" I ask when I finish, amused to see Sensei finishing up his own stretches in the shade.
When he nods, I grin.
"I'm going to show you my manliness!" I shout excitedly.
His eye twitches as he moves towards the middle of the clearing, and the look he sends me is anything but kind.
"Do you need to start with laps?" he grumbles darkly.
"No!" I giggle before taking up a place across from him. "Kirishima-kun promised to teach me the secret of his manliness-"
"Just take your stance," Sensei interrupts, looking every bit like he'd rather be back at home on the couch. "No quirks, I want to see your progress."
"Sir!" I shout, sliding into my stance.
He gives me a look, and I can't help my answering smirk.
"Ugh."
I ignore him and race forward. Pivoting a few seconds before I'm on him, I shift towards his side and throw out several jabs. One, two, three. Despite being tired, he dodges them all easily, expression schooled into something neutral. I swing my arm in a hook, pulling the other one back to block.
I just barely catch the kick.
A sharp pain radiates through my arm as it pushes me back. I let the momentum carry me, breathing deeply. He doesn't give me much chance. I barely blink and suddenly he's the one moving forward.
Jab. Jab. A third coming for my face.
I can't dodge, hands out, I shift the strikes, left then right then left again. I sweep for his legs, but he gives me a look.
"Too obvious," he grunts, shifting.
I nearly squawk when the kick hits solid muscle.
He takes the advantage, sweeping my legs and driving me into the dirt. I roll, grass in my mouth.
"H-Hey!" I laugh, rising to my feet.
He gives me breathing room and I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, the crunch of dirt between my teeth.
"Are you done playing?" he asks, eyebrow rising.
I smirk.
No.
Racing forward again, I wait until I'm closer and leap. His eyes widen as I kick at his block, fully intending to make something hurt, before he dodges left, one arm reaching forward. An elbow drives into my back.
I hit the dirt again, knocking the air from my lungs, his foot shoved between my shoulders.
"Rin," he scowls. "Don't take your feet unnecessarily off the ground."
I choke.
The foot moves and he pulls my shoulder, deftly rolling me over.
I grunt at his flared nostrils, trying to catch my breath.
He sighs back down.
"Your manliness needs improvement," he says flatly.
I choke on a laugh and take his offered hand.
We spar for nearly an hour after that, though spar is probably too nice a word. Sparring really implies having some degree of equality. That isn't what this is. Sensei just puts up with my attacks, gives corrections, and knocks me on my ass when I don't take them.
By the end, I'm disgusting. My clothes cling to my skin, sweat drips down everything, and my dirt-crusted body aches something fierce.
I chug down sweet water in the shade and wonder randomly if Todoroki has heard from his sister yet.
I wonder what she's like…
Does she have half red and white hair too? Is it split down the middle like his, or does it blend? Maybe she has pink hair? That would be really cute. I close my eyes and try to imagine a female Todoroki, what's left of my half-empty water bottle pressed to my head. The condensation leaks in slow trickles down my face.
"Five minutes Rin," Sensei says, and I open one eye to glance over.
"Kay,"
He smirks and tosses me a granola. A raisin one too, my favorite.
Dropping the water between my knees, I tear the plastic off with my teeth and bite off about half. Delicious.
"Thanks," I mumble between mouthfuls, enjoying the still forest. It's nice, just the two of us. I finish and drain the rest of the water before walking towards his bag and shoving the empty plastic inside. I glance curiously around it while I'm there, but it's just loaded with water and two small towels. Logical. "Is this weird without Hitoshi?"
He spares me a curious glance, his own water in hand.
"No."
I smile.
"You sound tired," I admit. "Is it because of the hospital? Is… uh, Sun… Sun Eater doing okay?"
He raises an eyebrow.
"No nicknames?" he teases. I flush.
"No," I mumble, looking away. "Do you know why his name's that? Does he suck up the sunlight or something? Fat gum said he could make tentacles. Does he have an octopus quirk? And you didn't say if he was okay."
Sensei tilts his head and smirks.
"He's fine. And his quirk is to manifests whatever he eats," he says, almost bored. I make a little noise of surprise. That was like mine! "Depending on what he eats, he can create wings, clawed feet, and tentacles."
My eyes widen.
"He can make wings too?" I ask excitedly.
Sensei nods, looking far too amused.
"That's… that's cool!" I admit, grinning. "Do… Do you think he'd show me?"
Sensei raises an eyebrow.
I blush before quickly scrambling towards the center of the clearing.
"Never mind. Hey Sensei! Time's up!"
He snorts but follows, his pace more sedate as he shuffles over. I wait for him to take up a fighting stance, figuring we'll either go back to sparing or he'll show me some new move. I hope it's the latter, I really want to know how he does that twisty thing from earlier.
But he doesn't.
Instead, he stares back with half-lidded eyes, the lower half of his face hidden behind his capture weapon.
"We're going to work on your quirk," he says instead, hands sinking into his pocket as he takes up a lecturing tone. "Before you do anything, you need to be aware there's a high probability it won't function correctly. The medicine you're taking dampens your emotions, and your quirk's strength is based on your access to them. Considering you have lost control since you began it, it's only logical to assume there will be further consequences. It's possible you may not have access to your quirk at all, that you may only access some, or that it's changed how it manifests. Regardless, I expect you to use your coping strategies. Do you understand?"
I frown.
"Uh, yeah, I guess," I say, brows furrowing. It won't function correctly…
Well, that had certainly killed the mood.
He raises an eyebrow but says nothing further as he steps back and gestures for me to begin.
Nervously, I reach for the shadows swirling just beneath my skin.
I can find them easily enough. That dark, lurking shadow that never really leaves.
It's easy enough to tug it to the surface.
It bubbles up from my pores, wraps around my arms and-
I don't know whether I should cry or laugh.
What has always been massive tentacles looks more like a withered root. Wrinkled, sagging, and about as threatening as Miska. It waves, then, as if realizing how ridiculous it looks and shifts. Except, not like it usually does. Instead it… it almost seems to fold in on itself, warping into a black blob. It stretches into too big hands, clamping against my wrists and taking up a third of my forearm. I'm reminded of that stupid, asshole villain and wonder if another's going to appear on my head.
It doesn't.
Instead, it's with a strange numbness I realize they belong to the suits.
Come to take me away.
I laugh, the sound bitter, even in my own ears.
"What am I supposed to do with this?" I ask, voice catching as hopelessness swells inside my chest. Changed. Changed made it sound like it might be a different color, or maybe a little smaller. This wasn't some small change or partial access. This was my whole quirk. "How am I supposed to fight with this? Throw the hands and see if they drag anyone else through hell?"
Sensei grimaces.
"Rin," he says softly.
I ignore him, pulling one off.
It raises a middle finger. I glower, smothering the urge to throw it, and instead concentrating. They're my shadows. They should do what I want, and there had to be something offensive about this.
Make a stick.
The hand stubbornly refuses.
I glare.
It twists reluctantly, ignoring my demands. The shadowed hand to my left becomes syringes instead. Three, familiar syringes sticking out of my arm. The shadow hand in my grip shifts too, elongating into something more elegant. Fingers stretching delicately with sharp, long nails.
Mama.
I drop it without hesitation. Picking up my foot, I don't even think.
I stomp viciously.
She's dead, I want to snarl. She's dead and I don't care. You can't be afraid of the dead.
"What am I supposed to do with this?" I snap instead, turning to Sensei. He's closer than I realized. I shove my arm in his face with the tiny injections standing at attention. Useless and stupid. "How can I-"
He takes my arm gently, knocking away the shadowed projectiles easily before circling fingers around my wrist. Another reaches for my head. With a tug I'm encompassed in his arms, all the sweat and dirt clinging to my skin. I shove my face into his chest, hot and damp and still smelling like detergent. I let out a jagged sob.
My quirk is gone.
And this time, I can't even blame the villains.
I close my eyes and cry, reaching for his uniform and clawing at the black fabric.
He sighs quietly, fingers drifting through my hair.
The other releases my wrist, settling against my back and smoothing away the fabric there.
"Breathe," he says softly, his voice low and gentle in a way he so rarely uses. I suck in a gasping breath, eyes squeezing tight and nose pressing into the comforting scent. "We'll figure it out together."
I suck in another breath and then two more.
"How?" I croak, shoving away. Hating the fact that even though I'm taking the stupid medicine, I still keep fucking crying. I hate crying. "What's there to even figure out? I can't use my quirk! I can't-"
Sensei lets out a breath of his own and I snarl and grab at my hair.
I stop then.
Fingers unraveling. My eyes widen at the pain. They slip to my arm instead.
My quirk.
I don't hesitate.
I drag my nails down my skin in angry red lines, demanding my quirk. I can do better. I can make it come.
"Rin!" Sensei snarls.
I ignore him, watching half-dazed as the darkness spills out. Stronger. Thicker. Wild, as it should be.
Completely out of control.
They warp and condense, settling into the shade of a familiar girl. Sixteen with leathery skin and an even more familiar trunk.
"N-Niko."
The mass smirks, the trunk wrapping around my shirt, dragging me suddenly close.
"Hero?" she trumpets, her voice sounding a million miles away. Her expression though… Her expression is exactly as I remember it. Glittering eyes, a vicious grin. "That's no hero! How dare you show yourself here. They're dead because of you. They're dead and it's all your fault, you-"
I break the hand holding me and kick.
Niko splits in two, her eyes wide as she distorts, black vapors spilling away into nothing.
"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!"
Sensei blinks from the other side of the smoke and I bare my teeth in frustration.
"It's not my fault!"
He stares back, looking strangely lost.
"No…" he agrees, voice low. "it's not."
I glare at the empty space.
Realizing he's not going to say anything more—that I don't want to do this again—I snarl and kick at the ground.
"I want chocolate," I tell him angrily. "I want eggs and flour and- and I want to make cupcakes for dinner."
Sensei looks no less lost as he stares blankly back.
"That's in the kitchen."
I grit my teeth.
"You have to eat one," I snap before turning to look for his bag. I find it easily, still situated in the shade. I shove it on my shoulder angrily. I need something, anything to focus on besides the absolute failure that was that shitshow. "And- And I'll make a grocery list. No more chicken and vegetables. You- You promised!"
Sensei shrugs.
Before he can ask, I give him a sour look.
"I don't want to talk about it."
"Later," he agrees quietly.
.
.
.
I cook most of the afternoon.
Sensei, probably concerned that I'm going to make him eat it all, shoves me and the ingredients to the community kitchen to work. And like flies, my classmates just seem to converge on the scent of anything edible. Were I in a better mood, I'd be more understanding.
Their cooking sucks.
As it is, I just want them gone.
"Rin-chan, that smells delicious!"
"Rin-chan, what are you making?"
"Rin-chan-"
"Get out," I snap, a whisk held dangerously aloft. I'm instantly reminded of a few of the younger kids at Last One, fingers grubby as they tried to sneak tastes. I pop Kaminari's hand when he reaches for the bowl and glare. "You can have some when I'm finished."
"Yeesh!" the blonde squawks, nursing his hand with wide eyes. "Sorry!"
"Out," I repeat, eyeing him sharply.
He beats a hasty retreat, pulling Kirishima and what sounds like either Sero or Mina into a round of video games. Kyoka gives me a look but doesn't bother and even ropes Toru into some discussion on music.
I roll my eyes and return to work, only looking up when another figure enters.
I open my mouth to snarl at them but stop as I take in Muscle's large figure and the ridiculous assortment of flours and milk and flavorings in hand. The anger and frustration and ache subside, just a little as I realize he's here to cook.
"Is… Is that cake flour?" I ask, voice more level, as he sets it on the large island between us.
He blushes, pink coloring the tops of his cheeks, and rubs his head, smiling lightly.
"Yeah!" he admits, nodding. "I… I saw you cooking, and since I was going to make some desserts anyways… Well, I thought maybe we could work together?"
Part of me wants to refuse. But another… another wonders when was the last time I cooked desserts with another person? The Last One?
I sigh and drop my shoulders, taking a deep breath.
"That… That'd be nice," I admit quietly.
He grins excitedly.
"What are you making?" he asks, nodding towards the chocolate mixture. "Cupcakes?"
I nod, though they'd probably be a little dense. Sensei apparently didn't know the difference between all-purpose flour and cake flour and had just bought the cheapest thing he saw. We'd also had similar issues when he'd tried purchasing ingredients half-asleep and brought home baking soda instead of powder.
"Do… Are you making something specific?"
"Oh," the bigger boy says, looking thoughtful. "I was thinking maybe a strawberry shortcake? Mina-chan bought some strawberries she asked me to use."
"I've never made that," I admit, reaching for a muffin pan and lining the insides.
Sato perks.
"I don't mind showing you how," he says as I begin to pour the batter into each of the sections. "I got the recipe online and it hasn't failed me yet! Once you put those in the oven, we can start together on it. If you want that is…"
I smile slightly.
"I… yeah. That'd be nice. Thank you."
"Sure, yeah! No problem!"
.
.
.
The class apparently approves of Sato and me bonding.
Toru gushes, Momo squeals, and Kaminari lays out across one of the couches babbling on about how we should rename ourselves the Kitchen Heroes! It makes me uncomfortable, the quiet reminder that the quirk I'm supposed to rely on is acting weird.
I try not to think about it.
I must do a decent job because nobody notices.
Todoroki, however, catches my eye.
Asking to talk, I'm a little surprised when he pulls me aside while everyone eats, and gestures for the courtyard. Realizing it's probably about the foster kids, I agree immediately.
It's beautiful outside. Despite it being late afternoon, the sky is still relatively blue with purples and reds creeping up the horizon and the warmth of the day still lingering thickly in the air. I'm unsurprised to see Midoriya there, though the frustration on his face feels familiar enough that I spare him a momentary look. So absorbed in his practice, he doesn't actually notice.
I frown.
Is something wrong?
"My sister called," Todoroki says, capturing my attention again. I turn from the green-haired boy to him with a frown. Brows furrowed; I try to ignore the sudden rise of hope. Todoroki doesn't look particularly pleased, but he's notoriously hard to read. "Endeavour didn't have any of the files."
I sigh.
Of course, he didn't. That would be too easy wouldn't it?
Rubbing my neck, I try for my most thankful smile. It probably comes off as bitter.
"Thank you."
"She traced all of the files though. You should know, several were flagged for search queries. However, they're all being held by a hero named The Owl."
My mouth dries.
The Owl.
Again?
"You know the name?" he asks, tilting his head curiously.
I nod, the sound of Midoriya's breathing and exercise loud in the normally quiet space.
"He was the case manager for my brother," I admit, licking my lips. That… That was something. I drag out my phone immediately, concerned and elated at this new lead. Pulling up Kagura's contact I stare down before trying to figure out how to word it.
Nee-chan! Can you go back to the Owl and look up a few more files?
When she doesn't respond immediately, I go ahead and send the picture of the handwritten list.
Slipping the phone in my pocket, I turn back to Todoroki with a smile.
It finally feels like progress.
"Thank you," I say, and I'm surprised to realize how much I mean it. "You didn't have to do that. It… It means a lot."
He looks blankly back, just as awkward as usual, and I hesitate for a moment before stepping forward and wrapping him in a hug. He's as stiff as he was yesterday, arms awkwardly hoovering like he doesn't know what to do.
I squeeze him tightly and let go.
He stares back with a tiny smile.
"Ah… you're welcome."
.
.
.
Sensei is waiting when I finally return.
Hair damp, beard trimmed, and a book I've never seen before in hand. I look at him strangely before dropping the slice of strawberry shortcake in front of him.
"What are you reading?" I ask curiously.
"Another one of Nemuri's recommendations," he sighs, flipping the page and frowning down. I move behind him, wrapping my arms around his neck and glance across the page.
It looks kind of like the workbook from this summer. The left side seems to be what's left of the chapter with a colorful picture of a woman and boy hugging and smiling in bright colors at the bottom. It's the right, however that catches my attention.
Masturbation (a not so touchy subject)
I squeak and immediately let go.
"Sensei!"
He sends me a withering look, one hand rising to rub at his ear. I flush, feeling my entire face heat at the implication and- and he's just- why is he-
"Yes, Rin?"
"Wha- Why are you reading that?" I whine, hands shoving against my face. I don't even want to look at him. Please tell me we're not doing this again.
Didn't we already do this?
I was not about to talk to my homeroom teacher about- about-
"Because Nemuri suggested it," he says blandly, as though we were discussing the weather and not-
"Sensei," I growl, utterly mortified.
"Rin," he repeats, though there's a hint of a smile playing at his lips as he does, all the more obvious with his hair pulled back.
"We're- We're not gonna- Weren't we supposed to- I-"
He puts the book down and smirks.
Flustered, I all but run to the couch and grab the blanket, shoving it over my head and glaring out the tiny opening.
"Do you want to talk about it?" he asks, and I scowl at the amusement written clearly in his voice.
"No!" I squawk. "We're not- We already had that discussion!"
"No," he says, eyebrow rising. "I believe that ended up being a discussion about Midoriya. We can talk about it after dinner."
I groan, face flushed and fall dramatically back on the couch.
"Sensei!"
He ignores me and goes back to his book, and I whine loudly before rolling over and groaning into the couch. This was going to be awful. Yui-san had done it with me once when I'd first arrived at the Last One. She'd sat me down and explained that there would be no touching of others' privates and the rules related to it and that if someone did what I was supposed to do. It'd been humiliating, and the only good part had been when two of the boys downstairs had gotten in a fight and the conversation was blessedly forgotten.
I make a noise and curl up on the couch.
"Sensei, we don't have to-"
"Rin, go make dinner," he interrupts, and I can hear the laughter in his voice. "We'll talk about it after dinner."
I stick my head out of the blanket and glare.
He doesn't even look over.
"Fine."
I boil the chicken, season nothing, and plate everything in an ugly, sloppy mess. When he raises a brow at the dish, I smile nastily.
"Your favorite Sensei, unflavored shi-"
"Rin," he snaps warningly, eyes narrowed. "I will ground you."
"Tonight?" I ask hopefully.
He snorts, looks down at the food, and shovels a large portion in his mouth. There's a brief moment where he pauses, and I wonder if he'll spit it out. I almost hope he will, reminded of that nasty feet-flavored curry, but he swallows. He stares at the rest of it like he'd rather not.
I pick with no appetite at my own food.
"Waste food like this again," he says darkly, pushing the plate away, "and you'll be eating it until it's gone. Do you understand?"
I scowl.
He narrows his eyes.
"Yes, sir," I respond sourly.
"Good, couch. We can talk about sex now instead of later."
I flush, realizing just how epically this backfired. Sensei stands, grabbing the plates, and immediately begins scraping the nastiness into the trash. I…
I slowly stand, shuffle to the couch, and crawl under the blanket on my corner.
This sucks.
Sensei stacks and rinses the dishes in the sink before eventually returning. He brings the book with him, and I sink a little lower into the couch, embarrassed beyond belief.
"We don't have to do this," I try again. "I know what- what sex is."
Sensei sighs, slumps forward with his chin in hand and elbow resting on his knee, and raises an eyebrow.
"Alright," he says flatly. "What is it?"
I rub my face with the blanket and groan.
"It's- it's where people touch their- their privates," I manage to get out. I look anywhere but at my guardian. Why were we even having this conversation?
He runs a hand down his face and sighs.
"No."
I pause. Frowning, I pull the blanket to look over at him, noticing the tired look on his face.
"Yes, it is," I argue, brows furrowing. "I know what sex is. You have to have two people and they touch and it hits each other and they make noise."
I clasp my hands together and slap the palms to make a strangely muted clap.
Sensei's head snaps over, face twisting in revulsion.
I immediately pull my hands apart, shuffling back under the blanket.
"Where-"
"Mama and Daddy," I answer only too aware of the question. "I heard them sometimes. Ryu said it was sex and that kids couldn't do it because it was for grownups only. He- he said that they rubbed privates. And- And that if I showed them mine, the monster inside me would eat them up."
I glance out of the blanket to find Sensei's eye twitching as he stares at a wall.
"There's not a monster inside you," Sensei says sourly.
I flush.
"I… I know."
"Sex isn't about rubbing privates either," he says, sounding just as annoyed. "How is a baby made?"
My face feels hot enough to cook something, so I pull the blanket around my shoulders tight. Sensei watches for a moment before holding up his hand with a sigh.
"Stay here, I'll be right back."
He stands, leaves the room, and a moment later returns with my bunny.
The one Toshinori—that All Might gave me.
I don't know how I feel about that.
I hug it to my chest anyways.
He sits back in his spot quietly, watching for a moment before clearing his throat.
"How are babies made?" he repeats.
I had honestly hoped he'd have forgotten.
"A man and a woman have sex," I mumble over the rabbit's fur. Sensei looks at me for a moment longer before adopting the lecture pose. I sigh miserably.
This was so embarrassing.
Why were we doing this?
"Pregnancy occurs when sperm meets an egg in a uterus," Sensei starts with, voice deadpanned, and expression bored. "Because of the use of quirks and modern medicine, pregnancy can occur between any gender."
I blink.
"Oh."
That… that wasn't that bad.
"Sex," he says, and I sink miserably back, "is an activity that varies from person to person. It can include the rubbing of… parts together, but it can also include penetration, kissing-"
"Penetration?" I interrupt, eyes wide. "Like- like stabbing?"
His lip twitches.
I scowl.
"For some," he acknowledges, and I'm not really sure if he's teasing at all. I turn a little green as he shakes his head. "It can also be the insertion of a penis, fingers, or any number of things into multiple, different orifices."
"Orfi-"
"Holes," he clarifies, the beginning of a smirk pulling at his lips.
I pull back the blanket and give him a very strange look.
Inserting a penis?
"That's… that's gross."
He doesn't argue with me, but the amusement on his face makes it a little easier. I twist my fingers in the blanket and wrinkle my nose.
"Don't… Don't boys pee with their, you know…"
"Penis?" he asks, and I know now that he's teasing. I glower. "Yes. It also releases semen, which is a reproductive fluid containing sperm."
"Why… And… And it's inserted into… into holes?"
"Yes," he agrees, and I wrinkle my nose. That was nasty. "Oral sex is the act of using one's mouth on another's-"
"A mouth!" I squawk. "Sensei!"
"Rin," he sighs. "This is all common knowledge. Yes, your mouth or the vagina or anus."
I gape at him, and he actually chuckles then.
He doesn't say anything for a long moment and all I can do is stare, slack-jawed at him.
The butt.
"Sensei that's-"
"Gross?" he supplies, sounding far too amused for this conversation.
I glower.
"Yes! That- Poop comes out and-"
He snorts and I growl, dragging the blanket back over my head and crushing the bunny to my chest. That was- This whole conversation was-
I suck in a breath and exhale loudly.
"I don't- I don't need to know this," I try again, refusing to even look in his direction. "I'm not- I'm never having sex so it doesn't matter."
Sensei makes a noise and I glower when a hand presses against my head.
"Breathe Rin, it's just a discussion."
"It's- It's gross!" I growl. "People put- they put their fingers in other people's butts? Why? That's stupid-"
"Rin," Sensei chides, his voice lowering even as his hand continues to pet my head. I push the fabric back, bumping my head against the hand, and relaxing a little as his fingers brush through hair instead. "Rin, people that have sex, including such practices as anal. They do so because they want to, and there are ways to do it cleanly. I'm not telling you this so that you'll attempt it, I'm explaining it because all of your peers are already aware."
I narrow my eyes.
"All…"
"Yes, all," he says, sighing. "Someone is going to take advantage of you if you aren't aware of what they're talking about. So while I understand you have no interest in this subject, I would like for you to at least know the fundamentals."
I sink and he makes a rough noise.
A moment later he's beside me, sprawling back with both legs stretched lazily out. I smile at the warmth, adjusting the blanket it covers us both. He gives me a weird look.
"You're so touchy."
"You're the one that moved," I huff, squirming closer.
He doesn't disagree, even as I lean against his shoulder and side.
He doesn't say anything at all, not for a long moment.
It's comforting and warm, wrapped there in a blanket with the one person who never left.
Family.
Daughter.
What would Daddy think?
"Have… Have you ever had- had it?" I ask abruptly.
"It?" he teases, before shrugging. "Yes."
Oh.
I swallow.
"With… ah, with who?" I decide to venture.
His face wrinkles in disbelief as he glances over.
"Seriously?" he says flatly.
I blush hotly.
"N-Never mind."