Ikimaru Hisoo doesn't know what to think about Tasatsu Medama. He doesn't really have any negative thoughts about her- (she's too overwhelming, she's always hanging out with the scary guy with the scary quirk, she doesn't seem to struggle on any of the tests despite him never seeing her study-) but he doesn't really have any positive ones either- (she laughed off the prank on her, she seemed easy going, she had a nice laugh and she made that scary guy with the scary quirk not seem so scary whenever she was around). After practically being attacked by her in the morning, he was still trying to calm his heart down; she'd jumped out of seemingly nowhere, looking like a mess and way too enthusiastic for someone with one arm in a sling, and she'd given him a mini-heart attack.

"Ooh, Komorebi, I don't know…!"

"Kiko."

What's worse! She's infected Komorebi with her forwardness and now his shy, calm new friend was insisting that she be called by her given name and Ikimaru was just too embarrassed at even the thought. "A-Are you sure they want to be friends with us- w-with me? I k-know she approached me this morning but what if it was a mistake. And that guy, Sh-Shinsou, has such a scary quirk. I don't think he'd want to even try to be friends with someone like me-!"

Kiko rubs her face, expression growing pained.

"You're just nervous. A-And he's not so scary, remember what I told you?"

Ikimaru flinches.

Yes, he remembers what she told him.

How Shinsou had stepped in to save her from reporters and he hadn't been there to help at all.

"Ow! You hit me?!"

"I could see your thoughts going bad again."

Unfair. Apparently Kiko had a really cool quirk and the ability to read his thoughts. Ikimaru wishes he could do that. Guess he'd just have to stick with having a really cool friend who could do both… "But… are you sure?" He insists on asking again, and the flat look Kiko gives him is enough to have him deflating. Because, even if he was right, he knew she was going to win anyway.

"I'm sure."

Now, it just became a question of who was going to approach them, they both side eyed each other with a fierceness that was comically intense given how nervous they were before.

Ikimaru's voice lacks its usual shakiness.

"Why, I don't mind at all if you want to be friends with them. I insist that you introduce me."

Kiko's was equally flat.

"I could never hope to take the honor away from you to introduce yourself."

They stare at each other, eyes narrowed with tension that could be cut by a knife. They've reached a stalemate already, haven't they?

"...It's your idea."

"You want friends too!"

"So? I'm soft and oh-so shy! You do it!"

"I would hate to impose and you know I'm too shy to do it too!" Kiko sighed, feeling her frustration suddenly disappear. They were at an impasse because neither was particularly people savvy and that was why they'd been brought together in the first place. Oh why did they have to catch the eye of the most intimidating students in the whole class. "We're a couple pieces of work, aren't we- Medama?"

Kiko can't help but blink in surprise as one of the so-called intimidating students walked by, not even sending a glance their way. But that's not what made her blink. It was the fact that she was limping towards the bathroom, rubbing at her face furiously, and gripping one of her legs with her uninjured arm. And bleeding. It trickled down the side of one leg, near the edge of her skirt, and Kiko felt immediate concern well up inside her.

Ikimaru looked as green as he could be, tongue sticking out from between his teeth, as they watched her hurry by.

"Where's Shinsou-?"

"I don't know…"

They shared a look.

...

...

There's a sucked in, pained breath and whimper and Kiko nervously calls out. "M-Medama-?"

And feels her stomach clench at the sudden devastating, unnatural silence.

"Is that Kiko-?" Medama says, not a hint of a tear in her voice. It's chirpy, happy, and Kiko is suddenly reminded why she found her so intimidating in the first place. "Bit of an odd place to make conversation but that's fine!"

"I- I saw that you were bleeding."

There's a long, long pause.

"...Womanly troubles."

Kiko doesn't think it would be appropriate to laugh. Especially because of how obvious the lie is. She still wants to. "...On the outside of your leg?"

"...Aa." Medama knows she's been had and Kiko winces as one of the stall doors creak open and she hops out on one foot, the other raised off the floor and paper towels pressed against the outside of her leg. Her eyes look especially dark today. Tired and exhausted. "I- Um. I think I sat on some tacks and I…" She trails off. "Well, I'm bleeding. Obviously."

Obviously.

"Do you… need help?" Kiko asks, tentative. "I have some bandages leftover from yesterday when Recovery Girl had to wrap my hands. They're fresh and… and it'll be better than nothing."

Medama's face scrunches and she looks like she really wants to say no. Really wants to ask that Kiko leave and say that she's fine and that she can take care of it but- "Please. " She instead says, voice so soft that it's more of a whisper, and Kiko wheels herself forward.

The tacks, thankfully, are already gone.

Kiko has the bad feeling that Medama had ripped them out and thrown them in the trash the instant she'd entered the bathroom. Because, not only was the bleeding worse compared to what she'd seen outside, but the pierced skin was also raised and looked slightly angry. Like she'd done something to be rough with it. It's a bad case scenario but Kiko is glad she doesn't have to help take them out herself, she doesn't know if she would've been able to handle it.

"Th-The sink-"

"Right."

They sit in silence.

Depressing silence.

Kiko is unnerved as Medama doesn't even flinch as they wipe blood free and try to stop the bleeding from getting even worse, cleaning the small wounds as best they can before they wrap her leg in the gauze that Kiko had pulled from the bag hanging on the back of her chair. "I-Ikimaru is waiting outside."

"Is he?"

They don't say anything for a long time.

"First, the bucket, now this! You must have some pretty bad luck today, huh?"

"Yeah. Luck."

Kiko feels her face pale at the tone that Medama takes on, the sardonic tilt to her voice implies something that Kiko doesn't want to imagine. "...It's not… It's not Shinsou, is it?"

That seems to snap Medama out of her funk. "What? No! No, of course not, he would never." That's reassuring at least, and Kiko feels a tension she'd been holding finally release. "I… It's just- Jerks. I guess."

"You should tell a teacher- Kayama-sensei would…"

She shifts, the blood had begun to ebb away, slowing down immensely. Kiko grabbed the gauze off the edge of the sink and some cotton to put over the entrance of the wounds. "I… I can't."

"Why?"

"Why?"

Her tongue feels like lead in her mouth, impossibly heavy and twisted, like the words are threatening to be spoken but there's something holding her back. She knows what it is but… "Promise you won't tell him?" At Kiko's look, she clarifies. "Shinsou, I mean."

Kiko isn't one to go spreading other people's secrets so her agreement is fairly easy.

Medama is still hesitant, her mouth opens and then closes, and there's an unusual tension in her face. When she finally does manage to speak, it's with a frustrated curl to her lips and a cold look on her face.

"They think he's controlling me. With his quirk."

The admittance is slow, each word articulated and almost robotic. And she sounds small and weak and tiny despite the furious note underlying her tone.

Yet, her words are spat like they're a curse of the highest degree.

"They somehow got it in their head that pain will snap me out of it. And, I mean, they're not wrong. But he's not controlling me, never has, never even tried to- So it's just-" She runs a hand through her bangs, pushing them back, and it's the first time Kiko's ever seen her full face. She looks… ten times more expressive than before. And a sick feeling curls in her gut. "It's just their trying their damndest to prove something that they can't!"

Her voice raises slightly towards the end, hoarse with something that isn't quite a yell. She sucks in a deep breath, stabilizing herself, and falls quiet.

Kiko doesn't say anything.

"I don't know him well. We're friends, sure, but I… I don't know him. But if I… If he found out, Shinsou would… I think he would be horrified. Devastated." It's not his fault, it wouldn't be, and Medama would never claim that it was. But she knows enough. She knows that he'd still take the guilt, bear the weight of it, and she can't stand the thought. "I know what you and the others think of him. Chikuchi is only the most vocal and I know how that can… How that makes him think of himself."

Kiko pinches her skirt between her fingers, knowing that Ikimaru can overhear them just the same and is likely feeling the same emotion she is.

Guilt. Horror. Ashamed.

Because Medama was right. Even if they'd been trying to change. They'd still bought into Chikuchi's ravings, no matter how small the amount that they did.

"To learn that I'm being tormented because of people prejudiced against his quirk…!"

She trails off, letting it hang in the air.

His hoodie feels like a weight in her hands, one that she's desperate to not lose hold of. Medama seems to droop, standing there, and Kiko can't help but feel like she looks so- so lonely. "Do you think he would hate me…? For making people think that I'm being controlled-? Do you- Do you think he'd start avoiding me? In- In some sort of misguided attempt to be helpful-?" She opens her mouth to try and assure her that she doesn't think either of those things would happen but Medama just carries on. "I was homeschooled before coming here."

The change in subject is so out of left field that it completely knocks the wind out of her sails. Kiko blinks. "Um."

Thankfully, Medama clarifies.

"I'd asked to be, you know? I couldn't do schooling again. Not only because I was more mature but because I… didn't want to replace those memories of before. Nothing could have… Nothing could have compared." She murmured. There's a deep, unspoken pain in her voice. A terrible wound that lays open and unhealthy. Still, she smiles, so vulnerable and real that Kiko has a hard time looking at her. "He's my first friend. In a long, long time. And I don't want to do anything that could jeopardize that."

There's a determination in her that Kiko can't help but admire.

"That's…"

Medama lets out a tiny laugh, it's not humorous but it's real and she falls back against the bathroom wall, sliding down it. "I'm being silly, I know. He's just… It's not worth taking the chance; of a teacher handling it wrong, or someone not believing me, or… Would they even keep it quiet? It's UA and you saw the reporters from before- It'll turn into a whole mess and some stupid hero will try to play the glory hound when I didn't even ask to be saved."

"You're… You shouldn't have to ask." Kiko insists, quietly, not knowing what else to say. "To be saved, I mean."

"And so I should just assume? That's not how the world works and I'm not going to let myself be disappointed."

Kiko- doesn't really know what to say to that.

"You're… a really pessimistic person, aren't you?"

She snorts, "You know, between me and Shinsou, I think he's the one with the more optimistic mindset. I try but… I just can't."

Kiko chews on her lip and wonders if Ikimaru is listening in on them. Wonders what he thinks about Medama's shaky vulnerability and very real fears that they couldn't even deny were somewhat founded. The lack of response that Kiko gives has her releasing a wet, mirthless laugh and curling around Shinsou's hoodie, as if it might shield her from her problems.

"You're… you're…"

Kiko struggles with her words.

Admirable.

She doesn't say it. Because she doesn't think Medama would appreciate it but there's definitely something admirable about how firm Medama is in her resolve. How the tacks in her leg seem miniscule, just a symptom of a far larger problem that she was focused on, and how Medama appears to be unworried by what happens to her. Far more concerned with the plight of others and… It's stunning, if Kiko is being honest with herself.

Their culture lauds heroism but it's so rarely found in individuals. Not as some prize to win, or competition to face, or some petty grab for attention and power- just honest compassion that is- Special.

And Kiko realizes, with a weird sense of jealousy towards Shinsou, that she wants that.

That she's willing to protect it. Even only just having seen it. Even if it's not directed towards her anytime soon. So long as it exists- she eyes Medama- she doesn't want it to disappear.

"I…"

She freezes.

There's talking outside the door.

Medama's head seems to hang, as if awaiting the guillotine to come down. It's what kills Kiko's hope that it'd just been Shinsou finally coming in search of Medama and Ikimaru waving him down. Instead, it's arguing, hushed and slightly furious.

"I- I'm saying you can't go in-!" It's Ikimaru, she'd know that stutter from anywhere. "Besides, this is the girls bathroom and I won't have some… some pervert peeking on my friend!"

(She feels her heart swell in fondness. He didn't even stammer, not really, and his voice was firm as he played up his protectiveness.)

He squeaks as a gruff, demanding voice fills with anger. "Listen here, you freaky loser-!"

Oh hell no.

"Hey," a feminine voice cuts in before Kiko can come out there and give the guy a piece of her mind, "I'm a girl. It's fine. I'll just go grab her."

And Ikimaru shrieks: "No!"

"What? Why not?!" There's stuttering and stammering and, from the sounds of it, Ikimaru is obviously trying to keep them from storming in and getting to Medama, because that's clearly who they're here for and Kiko doesn't think he's willing to give her up either. "Let me through-! Move, damn it!"

Kiko is halfway to the door when she hears a sigh, much too close, and Medama is limping past her. Her shoulders are slumped and she doesn't pause even when Kiko tries to hold her back: "W-Wait, you don't have to…!" But it's too late, her hand is already on the handle and she's already prepared herself to face the music.

...

...

The sound of the bathroom door opening has the conflict outside freezing in its tracks. The sight of Medama, half leaning against the doorway to the bathroom, with a scowl spread across her face was what kept it from starting back up again or getting worse.

Ikimaru let's out a yelp as the ringleader stomps on his foot and shoves him out of the way.

Medama's eyes flash.

"What do you think you're doing here-?!" She hisses. "Is it not enough for you? To ruin my work, my mornings, and me ?!" It feels like she's shouting but she's not. Her voice has hardly raised; it's deadly calm, acidic, and threatening like a serpent's tongue. Had she been any less in control of herself, though, Kiko feared there would be tears in her eyes and her voice would be breaking and cracking on every syllable. Because it's not normal to go from a near breakdown on a public restrooms floor to almost seemingly unaffected. "You… keep trying to hurt me. You're jumping to conclusions and you're…" Her voice is almost robotic and it's what has Kiko shivering and grimacing because it's fake. Incredibly fake. "Shinsou is twice the person you are. All of you combined aren't even worth half of him, so just…"

Ikimaru rubs his feet, tears pricking his eyes as he sits up and-

Something wet drips onto his face.

He shivers, wiping his face and is surprised to just find more tears on his fingers when he pulls his hand away. Chancing a glance upwards to discover-

"...leave me alone, okay ?"

-that Medama's head has bowed, her hair falling like a drape to protect her from prying eyes that she'd rather not see her. Her eyes flutter, pained, and droplets are too heavy on her lashes to be stopped.

-0-

Her hand cramps, fumbles, and she slams it into the piano with a force that has her ears ringing from the smashing note. It's discordant. A long sound that only grows longer as she holds her fist into the keys, her teeth gritting and grinding as her head pulses with the beginnings of a headache built upon by stress and frustration.

"Can you stop?"

She asks gently. To no one.

Perhaps her piano.

She grimaces, and then slams her hand back down into the keys before turning on heel and walking away. One-handed was… But it was fine. She only had a day or two more before she could get her cast off, she just- she had to close her eyes and rest. Take a break for once. That's it- just a mini-vacation.

She sighs.

She doesn't want to take a vacation.

"Stupid…" The multitude of blankets she pushes herself under helps to block out the world and she hugs a pillow, staring at her alarm clock as the time ticks away. It's still much too early. For her- she supposes that others would find it late but she's all too used to incredibly late nights that carried into the early morning of the next day and surviving off of only a few hours of sleep. "This is going to ruin my whole schedule…"

She didn't dare try and get used to sleeping in. It would only be harder to get back to normal.

Startled, she nearly jumps out of her skin when her phone began to ring, she'd thought she'd had it on vibrate, and her hand instantly reaches out for it but- Her hand hovers over the caller ID and the picture that popped up. Shinsou Hitoshi was in the midst of rolling his eyes and she'd messily drawn cat ears and whiskers on the image, and perhaps a glowing little halo on top of it just because.

She-

She doesn't want to talk. Video call. Whatever.

So she instead puts it on silent and rolls over, tucking herself under the covers and yet not sleeping either.

...

...

The next day the sky is pink in the morning, she wakes up with heavy eyes but a well-rested body and her arm doesn't ache near as much as it had before. She hates it. In a sort of petulant frustration since it would technically be a positive for anyone other than her and she realizes that.

She gets on her early morning train and hops off at a different stopping destination than she usually does, every few days she'd change up where she got on and off the train. And she wasn't so naively hopeful to think that after yesterday they would've stopped their efforts. So she kept to her usual strategy.

(She had mapped out routes memorized. She had stores and timeframes that would have the most crowds to disappear into. She had plans and scenarios playing in her head and she had her location pinged and ready to be sent to her contacts if something did happen.

They weren't going to be able to catch her.

She wouldn't let them.)

But the morning is met with no difficulty. She glances around corners, looking for any sign of anything out of place- a number of times, she thinks she sees someone, but it's just the shadows playing tricks on her and she forces herself to relax- and she makes it into class at the very last minute because she had to stop at Recovery Girl's office to ask if it was time to get her cast off yet and had been told a disappointing no.

And it's… normal.

(Medama is suspicious.)

She exits class during one of their short breaks and eyes the empty hallway she's ducked into with a horrible sense that she was being watched. The hair on the back of her neck prickles with paranoia and she glances over her shoulder with a slowly growing frown. There's just… a threat hanging in the air. And the shadows seem to dance around her, making her already bad mood worsen, and-

Shinsou grabs her shoulder and forcibly turns her around.

"You've been avoiding me."

He blurts before anything else.

Medama sucks in a furious breath of air, her lungs straining, and somehow manages to hide her flinch of surprise behind a blooming smile. It's real, filled with relief, and she practically collapses against the hallway wall.

"Well, hello to you too."

She all but chirps.

Shinsou takes a step closer, straightening to his full height.

"Medama."

"Shin-sou."

It doesn't work in defusing the situation like she thought it would. Had hoped it would. Her smile falters.

"You're pretty intense, huh?" She looks away, tucking strands of hair behind her ears and his gaze briefly shifts to linger on the small movement. "I don't know if I should love it or hate it…" She trails off, jumping back on subject. "I haven't been trying to avoid you or anything."

"You wouldn't answer my calls."

"Was tired." Is her simple, truthful reply. "Just- really tired . I've been sleeping pretty much all my time away. And, I mean, it helps since I'm still on pain killers-"

He eases up a bit, as if remembering her arm, but he wasn't anywhere near close enough to hurting her or even bumping into her, which is what she thinks he fears. His eyes flick over her in worry, taking in her injury with a slight twitch downwards in his blank expression.

"-and I don't have much else to do, but we can video call tonight if you want-"

"Your leg."

"Hm?"

"You have bandages on your thigh." He specifies and she tenses. "There was blood on the bench yesterday. That's the leg you used to sit down with." There's a complicated emotion in his eyes, one that Medama is entirely uncomfortable with and she's desperate to get it away from her.

"Ooh~ nice deduction, Mr. Detective. Don't keep talking like that with me or I'm going to think you want to learn more about me." She teases, voice practically a purr.

Any other time, Shinsou would have been flustered or shocked but, honestly, he doesn't even hear it. The bandages on her leg aren't fresh, but they're spotted with a couple smudges of pink, as if something had just barely begun to soak through.

Her legs shift, crossing over one another and thighs squeeze together, in a poor attempt at trying to hide it. Now that it'd been seen though, Shinsou wasn't about to forget.

He stepped closer and she pointedly wouldn't meet his gaze.

"They hurt you. Again."

"It's superficial at best."

He doesn't let up and Medama doesn't like the glare he has on her. Absolutely unimpressed by her excuses and, well, she wouldn't be either. "Thanks, you know." The gentle words have his glare shifting away into confusion and genuine bewilderment. "For worrying. I mean. It means a lot to me to know that you care."

"I…"

Her head tilts, smile warm and pulling at her cheeks until they grow tense with the force of it. "It's nice." She murmurs. And means it. "You're nice."

He…

Shinsou falters, not knowing how to respond to that.

"When did you get to be so good, huh?"

"I- Are you patronizing me?"

"I'm teasing you." She giggled at his offended expression. "Okay. So maybe a little. But it got the subject to change, no?"

"...Wait."

The cackle she hides behind her hand is ugly and triumphant. "Medama, this is serious. They- Medama." He makes a noise of dismay in the back of his throat. "Stop laughing. Stop joking around-"

"What makes you think it was a joke? I meant it, Shinsou. I think you're wonderful."

He startles.

(Medama doesn't blush. She won't. She had had a previous lifetime to waste on being embarrassed and she knew how little it mattered and knew how much better it was to simply refuse the affliction.)

"Ooh~ I didn't know confessions started this early in the year."

(I think you're wonderful .' Is not a confession.

But it has his hands suddenly sweaty, his bottom lip trembling with a barely withheld strangled whine-

'I think you're wonderful.'

-and his neck and ears turning a bright red that heats his face and makes it a bit hard to breathe normally.)

Shinsou is suddenly aware of the scene that they make.

Of how they stand so close that they're nearly nose to nose, close enough that their breath begins to mix and grow in warmth together, and with his head tilted so he could meet her eyes it… creates a tension that from an outside perspective would have eyes turning away in an attempt to give privacy. It doesn't help that he's stepped so close that Medama is not quite able to escape easily, not if she truly wanted to at least. The only thing that would have made it worse was if his arm was on the wall next to her head-

He jerks away, as if burned.

"We weren't-"

Medama doesn't help by giggling madly into her hand.

"Aa-aa-aa, no PDA on-campus. Feel free to take it home. And make sure to make responsible decisions, kids." Kayama-sensei, because, of course, that's who would walk in on their little scene and immediately jump to conclusions, wags a finger at them. "Now, off to class, my little students~!"

(Shinsou doesn't think he's ever going to begin to comprehend Medama's open wonder for this woman.)

"Except you, Shinsou!" She catches him by the back of his collar as they both turn to hurry off and his shoulders and hackles immediately raise, rising up to try and brush the hand away. Medama's steps freeze for a moment, and she glances back, worry evident. "Run along, Tasatsu, nothing to worry about, he's not in trouble. It's about the last assessment test!"

When Medama hesitates in continuing, Shinsou shoots her a reassuring look that has her tentatively nodding and walking off, shooting a glance over her shoulder as she leaves. It's only when Kayama speaks again that she picks up her pace, so as to not eavesdrop on something important: "Now, I've heard that you want to be a hero, is that right?" Kayama practically purrs, pulling him around and-

(Shinsou doesn't know why. But he feels a little like a kitten being carried by its scruff. The comparison is a weirdly accurate one.)

"-With a quirk like yours, it's going to be difficult."

He lets out a sigh through his nose, eyes closing as the words rush over him. "I realize that." He says instead, voice flat and deadpan and just- done. "I am willing to work for it." He adds on blandly, no real emotion in his voice.

Kayama doesn't remark on it. But she does look a little annoyed by the dead tone.

(Shinsou can't help but tense, waiting for her to tell him that it just isn't worth it, that he should stick to a quiet path so as to not bother anyone. Or, hell, maybe even to tell him to step off, that there's people with more heroic quirks in the class that are more likely to be transferred.

He's ready for it. Prepped to deflect or ignore, to bury in that bitter place that always seemed to seep through him anyways.)

Instead, she simply says, "Great." And nods. "I've noticed that it looks like you've been working out, carrying yourself better… The UA gym is only really accessible to non-Hero students who have a teacher overseeing them, so let me know if you ever need to practice your quirk and I'll be willing to watch."

He stops himself from proclaiming his shock. And blinks slowly a couple times in just abject disbelief.

"Your quirk is an Emitter though. So you'll have to find volunteers that'll let you use it on them. But I'm sure that if you asked the pink angel on your shoulder, she'd be more than willing." Shinsou doesn't know how to respond to that. In some ways, he thinks that she's right, that Medama would instantly agree but that's somehow worse than if she'd just say a flat-out no.

(Because she wouldn't want to be his friend anymore, if she knew how it felt.

To lose control.)

"Speaking of her…"

Shinsou waits for some vaguely sexual comment that will probably make him uncomfortable and unable to look Medama in the eye anymore. It was Midnight's whole image, after all, and he wouldn't be surprised if she was just the same as she was in the media as she was in private.

Kayama just pinches the bridge of her nose, glasses pushing up slightly with the action. She'd long since let go of Shinsou's collar and was now just walking with him.

"I must admit that I… lied. A bit. When I mentioned the assessment. There's actually counseling sessions we have planned sometime in the next day or so to go over the results of them alongside the Principal, sort of a one-on-one, so expect something more in-depth around then. Don't tell anyone, it's supposed to be a surprise. My apologies, for leading you on."

Shinsou is only a tiny bit miffed, more bemused than anything. "...Oh-kay…?"

"I couldn't help but overhear-"

('I think you're wonderful.' )

"Aa?"

"-that someone was hurting Tasatsu?"

('Why?'

Shinsou feels the words on his lips, the hint of a whisper, terrified of the answer. 'What did I do to deserve any good thoughts from you? I sat back and watched them hurt you. I did nothing.'

He has a bad, bad feeling that Medama doesn't even care.

He has a worse feeling that her answer would make him even more undeserving.)

Shinsou's mouth is dry and he hesitates for only a second. And that hesitation is only because his eyes flick back, to the classroom, where he knows Medama is. Wondering if this is a betrayal on his part, of her trust. Because as much as he wants to help her, wants to fight off her bullies, he… doesn't think she wants him to.

"Shinsou. If you know anything at all..."

Kayama- Midnight- notices his reluctance and her eyes sharpen, glasses falling back into place.

Medama will be angry at him.

She may even hate him. If he breathes a word of it.

(But he wants to deserve her words.

Wants to be someone that deserves to be thought of as wonderful. And he won't get that by being subservient to those that harm her, even if it's herself letting the harming continue without a fight.

Shinsou has never been one to let others' feelings get in his way. Even if those feelings are about him. And… if she hates him afterwards, he thinks he can live with it. If it means she doesn't flinch anymore.

Like when he'd turned her around and she'd tried to hide it. Her fear.)

He gives Midnight a suspicious look. And hopes there's a good reason behind why Medama seems to fangirl over the controversial hero. "...Fine." He grunts, voice low and dark. "I'll tell you."

-0-

Midnight, because she's firmly stuck in hero mode, storms into the teachers lounge with such fervor and hate radiating off of her that it's like a storm had just rushed in.

"How dare they?!" She seethes, teeth grinding and hands twitching for her whip, fiddling with it. Curling it around her fist before letting go and repeating. A habit born from being ready for an attack at any given moment. "How dare they?! To one of mine-!"

Toshinori makes the mistake of trying to defuse the situation and is immediately quelled by a terrifying glare that has him squeaking and falling back into his seat with a: "Yes, ma'am, whatever you say!" That would be hilarious any other time.

Or would be, later. After things had calmed a bit.

"Shouta! Hizashi!"

Both men are already tense and wide awake in their seats. An impressive feat since Aizawa had been previously on the floor, dead asleep in his sleeping bag. Neither seemed to be aware of what exactly was going on but both knew Nemuri well enough to know that this wasn't her just being dramatic but being, honestly, legitimately pissed.

There were very few things that made her angry. Legitimate and real anger.

And this was, very obviously, that.

"Someone on this campus," she growls, absolutely livid, "has been hurting my sweet, little pink student."

Aa, yes. That would do it.

Mic sighs. "If your student is being bullied, we can have a parent-teacher conference with both parties and find a solution. I'm sure it's not anything to get too upset over."

See, here's the thing. Normally this response would have her calming down a little. Because, if there was one thing that she and Aizawa had in common, it would be their protective streaks a mile wide. Both had a habit of overreacting a bit when it came to their students. Kayama in exploding revenge and Aizawa in a creepy, quiet revenge-fashion.

"Upset." Her eye twitches. "I'm not upset."

"Uhh, I don't know about you but-"

"I'm about to kill some kids, Mic." She spits. "Am I livid? Yes. Am I murderous? Very much so. But am I upset? Oh no, I assure you, I am far beyond that already."

Okay, so not nearly as easy a situation as he thought it was going to be.

"Wait, what happened-?"

"They broke her arm!" She shrieks. "They dumped a bucket of water on her. They put tacks through her leg! And, what's worse, there's no proof beyond testimony from one of my most untrustworthy students- oh, not because he's anything but lovely, I can tell you that- but because they'd call him a villain for his quirk and try to arrest him on the spot!"

Aizawa's face is dark and with little remorse. "Why is there no proof-?"

"Because they broke her arm when the security cameras were down because of the reporters! And the tacks and bucket-" If anything she appeared to somehow grow angrier. "They appeared out of nowhere! Complete nothing and then, suddenly, there!"

So a quirk was at play. That was… well, if they could figure out what the quirk was, then they'd very easily be able to charge them with Quirk Misuse and Misconduct- of course, that was relatively minor considering the assault.

But it was something else to add onto the list.

"What's worse is that I had to hear this all second hand because she's too much of a sweetheart to bother people with her problems and it could be even worse than what's already happening-"

Midnight is panicking a bit.

Heart racing in horror.

"-and I didn't notice until I overheard. I mean, I suspected something may be going on but I'd hoped that it was just…"

"Who's the suspect?"

"Suspect s. And I… don't know. He could only give me the description of one. With a possible strength quirk." She moaned, head in her hands. "Not even a class or a name. And it sounds like they're starting to back off just as I'm noticing…!"

It'll be okay. They'll catch them.

There wasn't much that went on in this school without someone, most likely Nezu, knowing about it.

But they could tell that it was the fact that it'd even happened in the first place was what was eating Midnight up.

-0-

Tasatsu Medama comes to school the next day with bloodied knees and a scraped up hand and the excuse that she'd fallen down the concrete stairs outside.

Kayama is about ready to cry.

And when Mic and Aizawa re-examine the footage alongside her from outside, they both watch grimly as Medama seems to jerk forward halfway down the stairs, her foot catching on something- nothing- and goes toppling down. Just barely managing to roll so as to not damage her already injured arm even worse.

She's back up within seconds. In fact, it doesn't seem as if she's even registered the pain, already moving to carry on without even a pause.

There are only a few students in the vicinity but neither have a quirk that would suit the situation. A minor telekinesis and the ability to contort preexisting shadows into shapes. Not exactly what they're looking for.

They pause the footage on the image of her foot on… something. Seemingly caught on nothing, anyone else would think that it was simply the air she'd tripped on, but there's a friction to the soles of her shoes, a slight squish of her definitely stepping on whatever-it-was she stepped on.

Something they can't see.

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Check out ah-jiing on Tumblr! They've been making some absolutely amazing fanart for this story and I am in love with their drawings! iT'S CRAZY Good :D

thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed!