The first day at U.A. had been frustrating for Bashira. She'd been dreading her introduction and all the perplexed looks her classmates would give her. Everyone had been cordial but no one went out of their way to wrap her up in conversation or ask any any questions. Bashira was grateful but she also felt a little guilty, wondering if the other students really could see through the smile and sense all of her inner 'stay the hell away from me' vibes.

Most of the lessons were gibberish to Bashira, too. It made sense that an elite academy like U.A. would be further ahead on the national syllabus than Bashira's country-side school. Besides that, half of the problem was that Bashira barely had the energy to focus. Her head hadn't stopped buzzing in weeks.

Grades seemed like the least of her worries lately anyway.

Lunch break came, and it was easy for Bashira to follow along with the crowd. She made it to the cafeteria and joined the queue for food. It was only then when she wondered if Shoto would try to find her during their shared break.

Would he want her to sit with him? She'd most likely have to meet the friends he'd talked about – those girls who wanted to hang out. Bashira had given the idea some thought during her down time in the apartment, and the deeper she delved into it the more anxious she felt about it. Could his classmates really be that friendly or did they have ulterior motives? Had any of them had some kind of relationship with Shoto before and were only out to torment her?

Bashira shook it off, for what felt like the millionth time, thinking that scenario was the second least of her worries. More than anything, what made her the most nervous at that moment was potentially sitting beside Shoto in public.

It seemed stupid, but it was real. She wasn't ready. How was she supposed to behave with him around other people? Did anyone know the full story? Was she supposed to ignore it all and act like it was no big deal? Play along like she was giddy just to make a good impression, just to to keep up Shoto's image?

Almost without realizing it, Bashira edged away from the line. She kept her gaze down – lest Shoto happened to be nearby and tryinging to catch her eye – and made a painfully slow journey across the canteen, towards the exit. She really had been looking forward to food. Her stomach had stopped growling days ago, but she knew a decent meal would probably help with how out-of-it she'd been feeling. No amount of pain killers had eased her headaches the way a real meal would have.

Oh, well. It's not like she was going to die.

'Or maybe I could,' Bashira thought sardonically as she found a door that lead outside. She threw her body against it. The light outside blinded her for her first few steps but she found a bench not too far away and plopped down. She was content to close her eyes out there, letting her head fall over onto her shoulder. She could vaguely hear some chatter from around her, but it was all too far to pinpoint. The noise was strangely comforting. At least she wasn't alone, and at least the people around her seemed happy.

The lunch period passed in the snap of a finger for Bashira. Some part of her was aware of a ringing, which must have been a warning bell, but her consciousness wasn't completely engaged to respond. She thought she'd only slouched over for a minute to doze off, but somehow when she came to she was somewhere unfamiliar. It was obviously a medical office, and she gradually put the pieces together to realize she must have been with the school's nurse.

Bashira didn't have enough time to analyze it more, because she completely panicked when she noticed that Shoto was sitting beside her.

Shoto didn't know what to feel. So without any particular emotional response, he just reacted rationally.

"I don't at all agree with what Endeavor organized here," Recovery Girl had said a little earlier, "but the fact of the matter is that you both agreed to this union. Children as you are, you two need to realize the responsibilities you took on – your responsibilities to each other."

It made sense to Shoto. He'd given Bashira space to let her work everything out, but he probably should have been more attentive. He had known she hadn't been taking care of herself. He could have stepped in before it went so far.

From what Shoto figured, Bashira had only been out for about twenty minutes. He'd barely made it into the classroom when Cementoss caught him with a summon to the infirmary. It was probably better that way, so that class didn't get interrupted and attract everyone's attention. Shoto wasn't sure if anyone had even noticed him slipping away.

Shoto had already assumed that Bashira was the most likely reason he'd been called but it was still somewhat jarring for him to see her laid out on a cot, blankets pulled up over her uniform and a cloth draped over her forehead. It seemed a little extreme for someone who'd only passed out, but Shoto noticed the way Recovery Girl seemed to hover over Bashira; the older woman must have felt some extra need to dote on her.

Recovery Girl was soon needed elsewhere, though, so Shoto was left sitting beside Bashira by himself. He didn't think it was really necessary. She'd undoubtedly be fine, and he wouldn't exactly be a great comfort to her once she woke up anyway. He would have rather been in class but thought better than to complain.

Thankfully, Shoto didn't have to wait long. Bashira came to quietly, blinking and taking in the scene in front of her. When her gaze drifted over to Shoto she visibly startled but to her credit masked it almost instantly.

Bashira parted her lips slightly. Shoto thought she was going to say something until she re-set her jaw. "How are you feeling?" he asked her instead.

"Fine," Bashira responded, out of reflex. She realized she gave the obligatory answer to the obligatory question and elaborated. "Better, actually. Almost like normal."

Shoto nodded. The exchange lapsed there. Bashira eventually looked away, one of her hands reaching to grasp her opposite elbow. Shoto shifted in his seat before standing, sensing his out.

"Since you're okay, I'd better get back to class," he said. He slipped his hands into his pants pockets.

"Yeah, sure."

Shoto moved towards the door, but Bashira's voice stopped him.

"I'm sorry you had to come down here. I guess they didn't have anyone else to call."

Shoto was rooted for a few seconds. Something about her words went deeper and struck some kind of chord in him.

Still, he continued on his way. "It's fine. I'm glad you're alright."

Recovery Girl sent Bashira back to class soon after. The teenager walked through the halls at her own pace, debating if she should even go to her next lesson at all. She could just head back to the apartment instead, change into some more comfortable clothes, and hold herself up in the bedroom. She doubted anyone would really discipline her for it, since she was such a "special case".

Bashira slowed down, lost in thought. It was a habit for hers to fall back on some kind of handicap. Her teachers back home used to let her get away with things all the time. She'd just tell them she was "too distracted" or "under a lot of stress" to get out of assignments. They were all too soft.

But Bashira wasn't a kid anymore. She wasn't home anymore. She'd been thrown into what felt like a different world, given a new life, and now she needed to figure out how she was going to make it her own.

For better or for worse, against all odds, she was standing in the middle of the greatest Hero school in the world… and thinking about skipping class.

'What a brat,' Bashira scolded herself, smirking internally. She took a deep breath, gathering herself, before trudging her way on to her next lesson.

Shoto went back to the apartment after classes let out, wanting some time to himself before he returned to the main campus for dinner. The complex that had been constructed for newlyweds was actually made up of four units, despite the fact that he and Bashira were the only couple occupying one of the suites.

"It's as if they want to normalize this for other students,' Shoto had seethed when he'd found out.

Regardless, he'd settled into the abode well enough and had to admit the staff had done well in modeling the interior after the room he'd set up for himself in Heights Alliance. There were some more modern elements blended in, but Shoto suspected those had been integrated to appeal to Bashira. The juxtaposition didn't bother him – it was all actually complementary in its own way.

Shoto wasn't sure if Bashira had beaten him back or not. The apartment seemed quiet, but it always was. He made his way to the bedroom and peeked in since the doors were open. It looked empty. And because Bashira spent most of her time in that one room, he had to figure she wasn't home.

Could she still be with Recovery Girl? He was sure she had been fine when he'd left her. Maybe he'd been hasty to dismiss her condition?

There was still half an hour until dinner, but Shoto felt too anxious to stay in the apartment. He changed into casual clothes and decided to head out early. Class 3-A was cooking a big meal in the dorms and had invited him (and Bashira) over. He'd assumed ahead of time that Bashira wouldn't be up to it, and her absence seemed to prove as much.

When Shoto opened the front door, Bashira was – ironically – just coming up the path. She'd only been a few steps away from the threshold, so despite catching herself on a dime the two were practically closer than ever.

Shoto could hear Bashira's breath catch once she did stop, their noses a meter apart.

"Oh," Bashira said, taking an immediate step back. "Hey."

Shoto nodded in return. There was an awkward lull between them. Some part of Shoto wanted to ask her where she'd been, but he also didn't want to come off as controlling.

"Are you feeling better?" he questioned. He felt uncharacteristically stupid right after. It was almost the same thing he'd asked back in Recovery Girl's office.

"Yeah," Bashira replied, seemingly unfazed. She brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "Actually, I went to the gym after class. I only looked around, but I think I'd like to start training more regularly again. To feel better."

Shoto was caught off guard, yet his face betrayed nothing. Bashira couldn't read him at all.

"That's good to hear," Shoto said. Bashira was torn between taking it as a supportive comment or a confession that he thought she needed some physical work.

There was more silence until Bashira spoke. "Were you heading somewhere?"

For a split second Shoto considered lying, but ultimately there was no need.

"My classmates are preparing dinner in the dorms tonight," he told her. "They invited us both over."

Bashira barely reacted, but Shoto somehow felt like he knew she was uncomfortable. She hadn't seemed too keen on socializing so far. He could guess what kind of questions were running through her head.

"You're welcome to come," Shoto said, "but if you need more time I'll tell them so. They'll understand."

Bashira averted her gaze, debating her answer. As he watched her Shoto noticed for the first time, in the waning sunlight, that her hair was actually tinted indigo. Not just stark black.

Bashira's shoulder slumped as she sighed. "It has to happen sometime, right?" She lifted her eyes to Shoto. "Do you mind waiting a few minutes for me to change?"

While she looked at him, Shoto realized her eyes were a deep shade of evergreen.

Shoto nodded in agreement and stepped aside to let Bashira in.