OLD WOUNDS
You want to go back to where you felt safe, to hear your brother's laughter, see your mother's face. Your childhood home is just powder white bone and you'll never find your way back.
That's Okay by Hush Sound
Bowden.
She feels her heart break inside of her chest, ripping it open deeply. She can't seem to get to him fast enough. Flames lick at her skin as her body morphs into fire, shooting herself toward him desperately in effort to help, but it's not enough.
They're fighting an enemy, one that they've fought before. It shouldn't have ended like this.
She sees his eyes, wide and terrified. He's an adult, fully grown and long outgrown of the times she used to hold him as a babe, but all she sees is her child. Her baby tumbles over the side of the cliff into the ravine. She's taken enough similar falls and jumps to know that he won't be getting back up.
She can't even find his body to give him a proper burial.
It takes a few weeks for her to finally die from her broken heart. She remembers the grief weighing so heavy on her chest that she couldn't breath, her torso igniting with the pain of the fresh wounds. Bowden's father's death is still so fresh that losing her son too feels unreal. Her heart beats wildly and irregularly before it finally gives out.
It's not the first time that grief has taken her, but each time always feels new.
It takes her two years before she ignites in the bottom of her grave to dig herself out.
Florence wakes up in tears. Not pretty, soft tears that quietly trail down her cheeks, but tears that rip out her heart as she lets out a guttural sob. Her bedroom is pitch black, dark and unforgiving in the middle of an ungodly hour of the night. She hunches over in bed, waiting for the sobs to pass, as her mind replays her dreams - her memories - over and over again. She tries to wipe the tears away with her wrists and bottom of her palms, frantically and desperately.
Each time she blinks, she sees a different child. Even in her long life, she remembers each one. She remembers each of their faces, their personalities, their smiles, their deaths. Most were taken from the streets, orphans with no place to go or children whose powers got them blacklisted, forgotten, or kicked out. Many that she taught, raised, and held when they died.
She can count the number of children she birthed herself on one hand. Her first loveless marriage gave her three children. She hated her husband, but she loved those children. She knew that only one of them continued that family line until that, too, died out in the next few decades. Her first true love never bore children, unable to do so due to them both being women incapable of reproducing together. Her second love gave her one child that died of illness too young.
Her last marriage, one that ended a century ago that still feels fresh. It was her longest marriage, with his ability letting him live a longer life until that too came to an end. They had one child - Bowden. He never inherited his father's healing nor her fire, only shooting metallic claws out from between his knuckles as utilized weapons; they checked, but unlike his father who had an entire skeleton of metal, their son's claws were the only foreign substance inside of him. She used to hope that it would be enough to save him from the way his father died, but she never imagined losing him the way that she did.
She gave each of them a home, treated them like her own, gave them her heart. A heart that now bleeds all over her centuries after them, old wounds tearing open violently. She still feels a deep confliction, torn between mourning and being thankful that her children never inherited her ability. She would have loved to have spared them the deaths that stole them away from her, but she never would have wished upon them the personal hell that she experiences as a result.
She knows, deep down, that part of it is because she is surrounded by children again. The last time she was a teacher it was her last husband, in a similar school for children still hiding their powers from the public. She hasn't been around so many kids since and seeing those round faces and big eyes make her realize just how much she has missed her own, missed surrounding herself with their fun and laughter.
When she finally can't bring herself to cry any longer, she realizes that she won't be getting any sleep. At a mere three o'clock in the morning, she walks heavily to a locked room in the back of the house.
She had spent the last few days after school rearranging everything, splitting her things between sentitalmental valuables, personal belongings that can never see the light of day, and expensive items for future liquidation. She likes to think that she's made quite a bit of progress, the entire thing being a workout in itself.
But this locked room holds something that she will never be able to share with another person. She has long since accepted that, so when she walks into the room she knows that it is something that is for her and her alone.
The 1600s style bassinet is tucked away in the corner, carefully hand cleaned. The oil painting above it she had carefully restored herself, but it still fades in certain spots that show its age. She remembers when they had carefully posed for it, dressed in their best for one of their first and only family portraits, but even the painter had managed to capture the pain in her eyes.
So many trinkets, photo albums, and paintings. Some on display, others carefully stored in bookshelves or behind a protective layer of glass. Old dresses and corsets hanging on a rack. Potpourri lockets. Handmade shoes. Perfume bottles. This and that's that she managed to hold onto. Each item varies between originals that she had tucked away, replicas, stolen artifacts, or something that she paid a small fortune for. She never imagined that she would have to pay so much for something that she used to personally own; that in of itself was its own embarrassment when your own diary is on display in a museum.
She puts an old record of a song that they don't play anymore on the radio and sits down in the middle of the room.
She still ends up going into work, eyes dried and a hint of makeup to make it look less puffy. The bags under her eyes are still a bit visible, but she doubts anyone will make a comment on it. She takes a deep breath and knows that at the very least, the first week of teaching is almost over.
Today marks the last day she'll be teaching the first years before announcing which of them will be joining her in her extra classes. With this being the second time she will see the first years, by the end of the class, she will have a grasp on who needs her extra classes. With the ones who are falling behind, she does plan to give them the option to withdraw once they are at an okay level - with strict instructions if they fall behind again then they will be in the class for the rest of the year. She plans on waiting until next week, after the second class with the second and third years, to do the same.
Granted, as she looks over the sign up sheets as she walks through the halls, it looks like she's already gotten some takers from each year. Five from the first year -three for both courses, two for just combat. Three from third year, all to both classes. Four from second year - one for both classes, two strictly for strategy and only one for combat. So at least when classes begin on Friday, she will already have a mixed bunch of individual students. Promising.
"Professor Talbot - Professor!"
She turns sharply to see Midoriya running toward her. She's already looked over everyone's sheets, including the information listed for their quirks, and learned their names. While it helps to know their names for reference, she knows that it is much more fun to not use them.
"What is it, greenbean," Florence's voice is flat as she asks the question, her eyes hooded with exhaustion.
The exhaustion likely makes her sound more cross than she means to come across, with Midoriya shifting uneasily with a flush on his cheeks. He's holding a few notebooks in his hands, according to the other staff members it's common for him to do so. She is thankful that he doesn't bring such notebooks to her class.
"I - I was just wondering if it's okay if I ask a few questions? I like to analyze pro heroes and even my peers and their quirks and how to better improve them along with their weaknesses, but I can't find any information on your pro hero status or your quirk so I was wondering if I -"
Florence catches all of it, despite the way he quickly gets all of the word babble out, and stops him by putting her hand up. He immediately shuts his mouth, looking sheepish and prepared for a scolding.
"I don't quite agree with the hero commission's idea of making everyone's quirk public knowledge, especially that of pro heroes."
She is about to continue, prepared to tell him that she's not comfortable with sharing information about her quirk. But she doubts that he is the only curious student or staff member. She could use this to her advantage to at least ease everyone's curiosity of her so that they stop looking.
"But -"
He immediately lights up as she continues, leaning forward as she brings her free hand out, palm facing upward as flames start to cover it. Midoriya watches closely, noting the way that the fire seems to consume her hand completely to the point where he's not sure if she is producing fire or becoming fire. It's gone in an instant.
She leaves it vague enough to not quite explain anything while being direct to satisfy the student's curious nature.
"I hope that answers your question and - if you are alright with it, I would love to look over one of your notebooks to see your notes. But I would not do so if you feel it is an invasion of your privacy."
Not many people ask to see his notebooks, at least not so genuinely. He's had a lot of students in the past make fun of him for it, and staff members take it without his permission only to refuse to give it back. He hesitates.
"I would return it to you in one piece, I assure you."
He bites at his bottom lip, mumbling to himself, before he finally hands her one of his notebooks. It's a past one - one that is already filled up and can no longer hold any more notes. Number Twelve has plenty of recent information for her to know what he's doing, and most of it is on staff members, so he feels more comfortable sharing it. Especially knowing that it's not the one with All Might's information.
Florence thanks him before sending him on his way, immediately opening the notebook to look it over. She barely gets past the second page as she walks before she marks his name at the top of her own notes.
"I recommend that you try to get more sleep, Florence-sama. I would hate to have two staff members roaming around in sleeping bags."
All she does is mumble an incoherent comment to the principal, who seems unconcerned as he is already leaving the lounge. At the very least, the other staff members in the lounge have been polite enough to not comment. Aizawa, she notices, has to be the one Nezu is referencing as the teacher is indeed already in a sleeping bag on the ground nearby.
She can't say she blames him. Honestly, it is tempting. She's been trying to chase off sleep with the coffee available, but she can feel the headache and dry eyes starting to catch up with her. She rubs her temples and eyes with a deep yawn that she doesn't manage to fight. She tells herself that she only has one class to go, then she can drag herself home in hopes of catching some sleep even if it is a nap.
Aizawa wordlessly scoots over a bit closer to her, handing her an unopened small bottle of eye drops. She supposes that it makes sense that he would have some on him, given the effects of his quirk and the fact that like her, he never seems to catch any sleep.
I had extra is the only explanation that he gives, but she offers a tired smile with a sincere thank you before using the eye drops gifted to her.
She doesn't notice the faint blush under his eyes when he turns away nor the way Present Mic and Midnight seem to take more attention to him. She turns her attention solely into Midoriya's notebook, looking over each page carefully. The more she rereads it, the more that she can't help but find herself impressed.
"Is that young Midoriya's notebook?"
She almost jumps at the sound of All Might's voice. She isn't quite used to him engaging him with the staff; she notices that he spends most of his time focusing on Class 1-A and with Aizawa. She is unsure if that is fully intentional or not, but she plans to ignore it for now until it interferes with him being a functional teacher.
He is almost uncomfortably close to her, looming over to read over the notebook, before coughing with a flush and taking a step back when she looks at him questionably.
"Yes - the kid stopped me this morning asking me about my quirk. I gave him a brief demonstration, but after reading this, I am almost curious as to how much he'll be able to piece together on his own."
"Your quirk?" Midnight leans forward, her bust on more display than usual. In another time or on a better day, Florence admits that she would act on the attraction to the other woman. She can't quite see the woman being interested romantically, but that only adds to the appeal.
Florence knew that mentioning Midoriya's question would lead to this, she expected it. She also knows that by now, Nezu is watching this interaction from his office in morbid curiosity. Even Aizawa has scooted back to get a better view, not even trying to hide the fact that is paying attention while Present Mic is just as straightforward, leaning forward with a large, friendly grin on his face.
"Nezu never released your quirk to the staff. I mean - he did the same with the specifics with All Might's quirk, but at least we know it's a strength based one." Present Mic offers an explanation, "We never heard of you before either so I think all of us are curious - what awesome quirk are you hiding from us?"
He tries to make it sound inviting and fun, as if trying to ease any embarrassment that she has. She still flinches at what was supposed to be a compliment before offering an explanation. The words seem harsher and cut into her, still fresh from the way she started the morning. She swallows it down and tries to keep engaged.
"You're not going to drop this, are you?" Florence looks over at Present Mic, who blinks back innocently as he just shakes his head. Midnight mimics the motion with a cheeky wink.
She lets herself feel a bit of amusement from the interaction, the enthusiasm admittedly infectious. She wonders if she should simply say it's a fire quirk and let it be or leave it as vague as she did for Midoriya. Knowing the boy's excited nature, she won't be surprised if word of her display has already spread through Class 1-A. She hopes that it will deter more interest, so she supposes she at least has to do the same with the staff. Besides, it wouldn't hurt to try to at least build up some trust among the staff, knowing that they are still wary of her.
Even Vlad King and Hound Dog seem interested in her answer with All Might still standing close by curiously.
"Alright, demonstration or explanation?"
Aizawa snorts, voicing his opinion at Present Mic's enthusiasm for a demonstration, "We don't know how destructive their quirk is."
"It's well controlled," Florence reassures, but with Present Mic still rooting for a demonstration, she obliged. "Rest assured that I would not put any of the staff or building in danger."
She stands and gestures for All Might to give her some space just for reassurance. He obliges, seemingly apologetic. She wonders if she should make it more of a show than she did for Midoriya, but opts to still keep it simple for the sake of her quirk's drawback. She knows deeply that two small displays won't risk combustion, but given that the hero school is always supposed to be ready for a fight, she would rather not use her quirk more than necessary.
With her hand on more display, and being brought to focus, Aizawa notices the hints of a tattoo peeking out from the edge of her sleeve with a few simple leaves decorating the sides of her fingers. He raises an eyebrow, not quite expecting her to have decorated her skin at all; her personality and seeming reserved nature just don't seem the type. Not that he particularly minds or cares, having been dragged to tattoo shops and piercing parlors by Present Mic often. He still has the one small tattoo that his friend convinced him to get after a visit to the bar, while Present Mic is more openly decorated and pierced.
The flames that emerge from her palm are different from what he's seen from other fire users. He can't quite place it, but it seems like it is more a part of her rather than just an emitter type. The flame is at least controlled, not whipping wildly but instead enveloping her skin calmly until her skin is no longer visible.
"Ouch." Present Mic winces, but Florence seems unbothered.
"It doesn't hurt." She turns her hand over, the flames following calmly.
She gives it a second longer before the flame goes out, shrinking away to reveal her skin again before it vanishes in a small poof. She doesn't offer any further explanation, seemingly leaving it up in the air for interpretation. Aizawa takes that as an opening.
"You actually turn into the flame, instead of just emitting it, don't you?"
She looks at him surprised, eyes wide. He is just as surprised to see the way she seems to curl into herself, quickly shutting down as her more reserved shell starts to once again build around her. He knows about walls and masks enough to notice the way that she puts a barrier around herself, but he had hoped that by her demonstration, she was starting to let it down. He shouldn't care that much, or be as interested, but he hates that her and her course have ignited a type of curiosity - simple, surface level curiosity. Not to mention the fact that he still isn't sure if he is willing to trust her among the staff or not; something he hopes to answer by continuing to view her lessons.
"I can do both." Florence finally answers, her voice a bit quieter as she returns to her seat. With Aizwa pointing it out, denying that he is right would make her more suspicious. "Turning myself into flame is much easier and comes more naturally. It also makes for a more controlled demonstration and offers protection as then most attacks simply pass through me."
She offers the basics of her quirk, something simple, something that she knows will satisfy the staff enough to not ask her again. For the most part, it seems to work with many of them seeming to be satisfied as the nod and continue on without much question; granted, Present Mic openly gushes about how she was hiding an awesome quirk.
Aizawa, however, just regards her carefully. Despite the explanation she gives, and the fact that it is a quirk many pro heroes would find useful as well as powerful, Florence is reserved. She gave her explanation, her demonstration, and left it at that, not wanting to talk about it more or offer more demonstrations. Normally, he would be thankful that at least there is one pro who isn't showboating, but something about the way she turns back to the notebooks, eyes hooded with something other than just exhaustion, seems to stick with him.
By the end of the first year's class, everyone is once again worn out and greedily gulping down the water offered. The lack of grapes is noticed, but she can't say she is really surprised that he dropped out after her detention.
"I recommend that each of you start looking into better diets suited not only for your quirks but for rigorous workouts," Florence states simply as she watches all of them hunch over in exhaustion, "I am sure if you ask that Lunch Rush would be delighted to help you do so as well as accommodate any requests."
She sees most of the students take the small advice to heart, clearly not thinking of it sooner. She knows most of them, especially those with fat or sugar based quirks in particular, have particular diet needs that need to be met for them to perform. But she also knows there is a way to accommodate it without starving your body of other much needed nutrients. She hopes that with a diet adjustment, that future classes won't nearly be as tough on them.
Despite what they may, or what the staff members, may think, she is not trying to run these kids into the ground.
"Next week, both days will be dedicated to strategy. After going through both courses twice to give you an idea of what to expect, we will alternate. Some weeks will be one of each, others dedicated solely to one course. This depends mostly on your own performances. Beyond that, my extra classes also begin tomorrow which brings me to the last session of today."
She regards each student carefully as she stands in front of them evenly, clipboard in hand as she looks over her notes and the sign up sheet. Each student seems to have a sense of nervousness, unsure if they will be required to take a class or not; and if that reason for the requirement is good or not. Bakugou, she notes, is one of the only ones seemingly unconcerned with his arms crossed as he scoffs. As much as he tries to hide it, she almost smirks at the way he does pay attention.
"As I said, those required to take one or both of my courses are for one of two reasons. I will not tell you which and let that motivate you to do better. Sign up sheets are available all year around should one of you decide to join us as the year progresses, those who take the required extra classes may change at any time."
Florence's smile is predatory - scary enough to make most of them shiver.
"Which means if I don't mention you today that doesn't mean you're safe."
The students shift around, but know better after word of her detention's details got around than to whisper to each other while she is still speaking. She thought about each list carefully, taking in careful consideration their performances and their quirks. While she won't allow much quirk use in her class, what each student is capable of is closely tied to what they normally do in battle.
"To start off, those who signed up. Cutting board, Momo, Rockie, Tailboy, Big Hands, and Steel," Florence names them off, pointing them off as she does so. "I'll see you this weekend regardless of the other names I am about to call off."
That finally does gain some of the others to whisper. Her nicknames gain attention as some of them openly voice on how they're supposed to know if she means them if they keep calling off nicknames; she pointedly ignores the question. Kirishima and Tetsutestu at least know that she is talking about them easily and when asked, she openly points out Ojiro as the tailboy mentioned. Momo openly flushes when she realizes that she is the only one not nicknamed, but when Ochako points out that must be a good thing, Momo whispers back that with Florence, she isn't so sure.
Kendo at least mutters that the mention of the nicknames means that Florence does know their quirks. Iida raises his hand before she continues and when she motions for her him to speak, he hesitantly does so.
"Excuse me, Professor, but why have you named us all nicknames? And why am I cutting board?"
Iida's hand cuts through as he speaks and she just mimics the motion to answer his later question. He flushes brightly, embarrassed as he puts his hands down. It goes noticed that she doesn't answer his first question as she continues.
"The list of required students to take my additional courses are extensive. Do not take personal offense to this, you are all first years and as of right now, some of you have already shown potential but most of you are lacking due to your inexperience and need the extra help. After reading over your quirks, I have taken in consideration who will also benefit from either class. This is not a reflection on your teachers either."
You're just kids, it's not your fault. Florence falters before continuing.
"Those required to take the strategy course tomorrow are as follows: Greenbean, Pompom, Human Forge, Shadowman, Amplifier, Human Saw, Craft Glue, Mime, and Samara."
She points them out as she names them, just to clear up any confusion among the students. Midoriya seems interested in the fact that's named off; she hopes that the kid will flourish, and she's actually looking forward to seeing if she can get him to make those analyses more quickly and in the heat of battle. Bakugou seems openly angry at his nickname, which she expected, but in her eyes that just makes him look more like a Pomeranian. Whether he realizes it or not, his reaction played exactly into the reason that she wants him in that class.
Yosetsu Awase has an interesting quirk, if she utilizes that, she hopes that she can teach him more interesting ways to use it, how to be careful of what he welds together and how to use it more to his advantage; the same logic applies to Kojiro Bondo and Reiko Yanagi. Shihai Kuroiro, just from two classes, seems to have trouble thinking on his own. That will prove to be an issue if he can't think of his own strategies and with his quirk, that potential shouldn't be wasted. Yui Kodia will need to know just which environment will be safe for her to use her quirk in, and how to apply in unique situations. Setsuna Tokage has already shown potential in her regular class that she hopes to nurture. Neito Momono will need to her strategy course his best friend if he hopes to use his quirk to the fullest.
"Those required to take the combat class tomorrow are as follows: Sparkler, Earphones, Arctic Heat, Boogeyman, and Sad Eyes."
Whispers break out of students being unsurprised that Todoroki caught her interest, but she almost smirks knowing that is not the reason that she chose him. She hopes that if he learns the real reason that she did it will serve as a small humbling, but as it stands, the poor boy throws some piss punches.
Ayoma doesn't seem surprised that he is listed, given that he knows his performance in class wasn't his best while Jirio openly groans that she'll have to take more of the most tiring course. Good. Ayoma knowing that he can do better is a good thing and she hopes that it will help with his close combat while she knows Jirio can not only do better, but that her quirk won't allow many offensive or defensive choices. Depending on how the girl does later, she may even move her to both extra classes.
Tokoyami is a bit surprised, Dark Shadow coming out for a quick moment. Florence lets the slip go, knowing the boy's control over the beast is not the best, but does give a pointed look that makes Dark Shadow shrink back. His lack of control, and given his weakness to light, makes him the perfect choice for more combat lessons. While Nirengeki Shoda will need to know exactly how to fight for his quirk to even be the least bit effective.
The rest of the class seem relieved when she is seemingly done, but when she speaks up again, their hopes are quickly dashed.
"Those required to take both classes are as follows: Sweetheart, Dr Do Little, Transparent, and Speech Bubble."
The list is at least short, but Ochako openly deflates having thought herself safe from the professor. Florence knows the girl is smarter than she knows, but hopes that with both classes, it can make her become a more effective hero; her anti-gravity quirk can be a huge asset in both strategy and combat if she knows how to do them. Koda shies away from the attention at his name, his eyes giving away the fact that is beyond nervous of attending her class. She hopes that with some encouragement, he will gain the confidence he needs to know that his quirk is a huge asset in strategy while combat will help make up for his weaknesses.
Hagakure is the most thrilled, openly cheering about attending, though Florence wonders if she really was excited about it then why didn't she sign up. She makes a note to talk to the girl about it later. But at least she knows that she can benefit from the courses, her quirk being another great asset to both; stealth will definitely be a big one for the girl, but even combat can be more effective if they can't see their opponent. Manga Fukidashi is openly less psyched, but Florence hopes the combat will make up for the times where his quirk will be too destructive while strategy will help him come up with creative ways to use it.
When it is finally clear that Florence is done calling names and that they are free to go home, they are openly happy to leave. She shakes her head as they leave, almost amused by all their reactions as she can hear their chatter starting to get louder the further they get away from her.