PRESENT DAY

School is boring. Toph starts third grade with half as much enthusiasm as the year before it. She's been moved into Class 3-A at her elementary school, and it's full of even more nerds and snobby rich kids than last year's class.

"Beifong-san!" An eager boy zips up to her desk, practically vibrating with enthusiasm. He's tall, and his footsteps are heavy but swift. "Sensei said one of us should look after you, and I volunteered!"

Toph continues what she's doing, methodically setting up her braille reader and notes.

"Um," he continues hesitantly, "It's nice to meet you, by the way, I know you weren't in this class last year, so maybe I could—"

Toph knows where this is heading, and scowls. "I don't need help," she replies shortly, folding her arms.

"Oh? But Saito-sensei said—!"

"Well, Saito didn't ask me, did she?" Toph frowns, drumming her fingers impatiently. "If I needed help, I'd ask. I got by last year and I'll do it again now."

The boy is quiet, shifting from foot to foot and still, sort of, vibrating. "Are you certain, Beifong-san? I think Saito-sensei was quite clear when she said…"

Jeez, what a stick in the mud. He can't even drop the honorific. Toph rolls her eyes. "I'm fine. Go help someone else. I don't need a babysitter."

He jerks back a little at her tone, intimidated, and Toph feels rather satisfied. "But…" he goes to argue further, but something about the expression on Toph's face seems to give him pause. "Okay. If you insist." After another moment of hovering by her desk he slinks off, clomping away with heavy steps that somehow, impossibly, remind her of Twinkletoes. Maybe it's the enthusiasm.

And maybe if Toph wasn't being pampered and babied and controlled by her parents every moment, she would have let him help. She could tell by the way he acted that he wasn't that snobby or anything, and was probably only trying to make a friend. Like Twinkletoes and his nosy questions...

But Toph is not in school to make friends. School is just another thing her parents are making her endure, and Toph can't afford to give into what they want. She'll sit quietly, she'll do her homework, and that is it.

The bell rings, and class starts just as the tall boy with vibrating feet (what kind of quirk made someone feel like that, anyway?) sits at his desk in the back. Slowly, Toph sinks into her own seat, only now realizing how tense she'd been talking to that Iida kid. But she won't be friends with someone from a hero family. She won't be friends with anyone here.

Toph pulls herself away from the dull thoughts, knowing it's no good. She touches her wrist, reading the time to herself. Only five more hours until she's out. Her parents are both home for now, but it's been nearly two years since the Incident and Toph doesn't have any more therapy sessions, so she's basically free once she gets through class.

And best of all, it's a Tuesday.

PAST

"Mom! Mom! Are you still home?!" A young voice cries out. Umeko hears the pitter-patter of tiny feet and smiles as she finishes changing into her office clothes, discreetly tugging the detective badge of 'Ito' out of sight.

"Yes?" she greets her son in the hallway outside the bedroom, and raises her eyebrows at the sight before her. "Oh, sweetheart…"

Her son regards her with wide, hopeful eyes. He's holding a calico cat against his chest. "Dad says I need your permission before we can keep her. So…?"

Umeko sighs, crouching in front of him. He's gotten taller, she thinks fondly. "Where did you find her?"

At this point his eyes go even wider. "She was left out in the rain, Mom! I've been visiting her all week, but her box was falling apart with her in it! Please? She needs a home."

She sighs again, unable to resist her son's pleading indigo eyes. "Alright. I have to get to work, but when I get back tonight we need to go over some house rules and figure out what to buy for her."

"Dad can tell me," he says eagerly. Then his expression falters. "I mean—I'm just not sure how late you'll get back, yesterday you didn't come home until after dinner, and now you have to work on the weekends—"

"It's just for this week, the case I'm on," Umeko explains quickly, brow furrowing. She picks at the edge of her jacket, where the pale blue fabric is pilling. "I'm sorry, baby, I know I'm not around enough. It's just that—"

"Your job is important, and you have to work so much so you can support us," he finishes glumly. He fidgets with the shivering cat in his arms. "Maybe she should go to the shelter instead. If it's gonna cost more to take care of her—"

"No," Umeko says firmly, holding his shoulders. "No, we're keeping her. She needs a home, right? I won't always be this busy, it's just this case that's getting to me." Umeko rubs her temple as she speaks. She could really do with a nap right now.

Her son doesn't look convinced. "You look as tired as Dad," he notes with a frown.

"You look as tired as Dad," Umeko teases back, pinching his cheek quickly. "Does your cat have a name yet?"

He shakes his head. "I haven't decided. What do you think?"

Umeko shrugs, quickly glancing at her watch. "We'll think of something good," she promises, kissing his forehead quickly. "I have to go, but think of a few names while I'm gone, okay?" She calls over her shoulder as she steps into the mudroom, pulling on her trusty boots. The ground was still soft from the morning rain, but maybe the skies will have cleared up by now.

"Don't you need an umbrella?" The boy calls to her, but Umeko waves him off.

"Nah, I'll be fine. I'm sure it won't rain that much."


In the visitor's lot of Shizuoka Max Prison, Umeko drums her fingers on the steering wheel of her car. Every few minutes her eyes dart over to her phone, still set in a case against her dashboard for when she used the GPS for directions.

Endeavor's going to be come back to the car in a few minutes, with evidence and reports that, if put into public record, would create all sorts of chaos. Her task is to keep the peace. She's done it a thousand times, but this… this is different. She's never had to wipe a hero before. And never someone so strong.

It dawns on Umeko with a sickening twist in her gut that she doesn't want to do this. And she doesn't have a choice.

Her phone lights up with a text message. Her appointment for this evening at the Beifongs' mansion. She doesn't know how those rich assholes are involved with all this, but they're supposedly on her side and she has to help them. Too bad they're rich assholes demanding her to move her appointment from 4 o'clock to 6. Great, she's going to miss dinner again…

Endeavor's exiting the building now, she can see his large form past the three chain-link fences between the car and the front doors. It's a long walk, and with the angle of his umbrella against the rain, he can't see her at all.

Umeko takes a deep breath, and then reaches for her purse for a small black container, roughly the size of a pencil case, but with a three-digit code on the side. She'd never want her kid to get into this.

She puts in the combination and opens it, pulling out a syringe and an ampoule of dark liquid. She measures out the dosage and rolls her sleeve. She doesn't do this sort of thing, certainly not Trigger, and yet here she is. The version she's been given is supposed to be diluted, and Umeko's no addict, but the thought of having to put this shit in her body, to overuse her quirk like this… God, and if it doesn't work…

Taking a deep breath, Umeko reminds herself why she's doing it all. That there's a damn good reason for it, and it goes beyond herself and the few people around her. She doesn't have a choice right now, but she gave away that willingly. For the cause.

As Umeko pushes the needle past her skin and depresses the plunger, she knows that something good will come from this.

PRESENT

At lunch, Toph lets the cafeteria staff pick out a lunch for her. She usually has a bento from home, but her mother is still looking for a new maid. "You're too skinny, my goodness!" One of the ladies tuts.

Toph offers a confused smile. "I always eat everything, I swear," she tells her.

"I believe it, sweetie, you must have a fast metabolism!" The woman sighs, patting her own belly. "If only I could eat as much as I want without burstin' out of my dress, maybe I'd get a second date! But enough about me, do you want the udon or the soba?"

"Soba, please," Toph bites her lip, wondering if it'd be odd to reassure the lunch lady about her weight. She's not actually fat or anything, but her mutation quirk gives her thicker muscles to account for her reptilian legs and tail. "Do people really care that much about the way you look?"

The woman pauses, and then continues to carefully pour out the noodles. "Oh, but you don't have anything to worry about, ne?" She says dismissively, "You're just like a doll, and sweet as anything! Before you know it you'll have all the boys trying to confess to you."

Toph raises a skeptical eyebrow, having never thought of herself as sweet, and the lady just laughs. "Trust me, dear! Oh, I'm giving you extra rice balls. You wanna be thin, but not that thin!"

"Thanks," Toph replies, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. She passes by a group of older boys and sits down at a table that's far away from anyone in her class. The group of boys are whispering in excitement, and Toph can't really stop herself from eavesdropping on their conversation.

"Have you heard about the new lightweight champ? Isn't it crazy?" One of the boys asks, voice tinged with excitement that piques Toph's interest.

"C'mon, it's fake. There's no way it isn't fake," another boy replies, shoveling food into his face as he speaks. "Scariest fight I've seen in awhile, but it's fake." He sounds convinced of this. But the way the student's voice tremors slightly and the fact that he misses his mouth when he goes to take a bite from his dish tells them all a different story.

"Heh, yeah, don't you know all those fights are rigged, Nishiya?" a third boy snorts. "It was a good fight, it was a crazy fight, but it wasn't a real fight. You should go watch a hero fight instead."

"But think about it! Why would someone call themself the Blind Bandit if they weren't really blind?"

"You're outta your mind, Nishi," his friend pats his shoulder in consolation. "No way a little blind girl could win Quirk Rumble 82 all on her own."

"Well, it's Tuesday, isn't it?" Nishiya reminds them pointedly. "She's fighting again tonight. Let's go and find out."

Toph slurps up the last of her noodles, carefully wiping her mouth to hide her wide grin.

PAST

"I can't make her forget everything, Mrs. Beifong. It doesn't work like that."

"Surely you just need a push? You've done work like this before, we can supply you with—"

"I'm not going on that stuff again. Endeavor is a full grown man with forty years of memory to compensate for a few changes. Your daughter is seven. These memories are ingrained, they're essential to her development as a person. I can pick apart certain things, but you say she's willful. I can only reinforce what you want over time."

"You've never needed more than a week to do what is necessary. Aiko, do not take advantage of my generosity. If you think you think you'll get paid more for drawing this out—"

"God, no, this isn't about the fucking cash, do you want me to leave your daughter brain-dead, Poppy? I've done it before, I'll do it again if that's what's necessary."

"No, no. We'll… we'll just have more sessions. How will I know it's working?"

"You won't be able to tell," Aiko answers tiredly. "You can't sense her mind the way I can. I'll know if she truly accepts the alterations or not. And it's fragile, Poppy. My control can be undone. I won't make this a permanent fix."

"That's fine. We don't need a permanent fix. For now, I just need to keep her in line. Get her to stop thinking about that boy and becoming a hero. Can you do that, Aiko?"

"Yes, Mrs. Beifong. She'll obey you."

Toph slides to the floor of her bedroom, two stories above the conversation between Dr. Aiko and her mother, her heart pounding and her head a mess. Endeavor was supposed to follow up with her police report and quirk registration, but she's heard nothing about it since she came back from the hospital. He's already been changed—and if the Number Two Hero was already under her control, there's a good chance everyone else involved has been mind-wiped as well. There's a good chance a lot of people have forgotten a lot of stuff, and that there isn't even a hero out there trying to stop it.

Toph is alone.

She lets out a few gasping breaths filled with utter terror, and then digs her fingers into the cool marble flooring with a wild, desperate sense of resolve like nothing she's ever felt before.

There is a lot going on that Toph doesn't know about. There's a lot that Toph won't know once Aiko is done with her, because Toph is seven and alone and doesn't know a thing about mind-control quirks.

But she knows this: she will never obey.

Whatever it takes, Toph will not obey.

PRESENT

Names are hard to come up with. Toph realized very quickly that she's only good at insults and nicknames. So at her first night at the Rumble, she tied a black scarf over the top half of her face and, quite cleverly, called herself the Blind Bandit.

It stuck.

"I think it's legit, the host doesn't let phony fights slide. She's just that good! There's probably more to her quirk than just rocks, you know they have to keep it secret to keep the fights good. She could be using a magnetism quirk, she cut that bo staff clean in two!"

A small grin creeps onto Toph's face again. Her last fight in the winter championship was wild. Her challenger almost deafened her with banshee screams. Her head was ringing all day afterwards.

She beat him by drawing up the concrete floor of the arena into armor and then snapped the steel bo-staff he used to defend himself. It had been a poorly-made weapon, she had felt the fault lines forming in the metal from just a few hits against the ground. It caused her hands to ache afterwards, but it was worth the win.

"It was amazing! It's like she could read his mind with the way she moved! I've never seen an earth-type quirk used like that, she's brilliant!"

"Sounds like you have a crush, Nishiya," someone teases. "You know she's probably some kid, right?"

"Hey, you don't know that, you're supposed to be eighteen to enter the Rumble. Some people just look young even if they aren't!"

"Oh please, like Loban cares if she's underage. Just look at the ratings! The place is packed whenever Bandit has a fight… Oh, and did you see that porcupine dude in the middleweight tournament? He was scary... "

She was lucky that Loban, the manager of the Quirk Rumble, liked her so much. It took a while to convince him to let her compete, but in the end, the benefits outweighed the risks—after just a few weeks, Toph was one of the most infamous fighter in the Rumble. She can put on a show and beat losers into the ground in the same move.

It's not the same as fighting villains, but it's a hell of a rush. And Toph is still improving.

PAST

"You have a pretty strong quirk too," Aiko murmurs in a familiar, probing tone. She says this at every session, checking every facet of her thoughts for the past year. "But you're not going to do anything dangerous with it, right?"

"No, I—" Toph catches herself, choosing her words with care. "My quirk isn't strong." The words are grating, like a mouthful of glass shards, but still true. Her quirk isn't enough. Not yet. "I wouldn't do anything that would hurt me." She never acts with the intention of getting injured, after all. She's not in any danger when she fights, not in Toph's definition of danger.

"Good," Aiko says in relief, letting her hand slip away. "You're doing so well, Toph. I'm not sure how much longer we need these sessions, to be honest."

Toph smiles sweetly at Ms. Aiko, the same smile she presents every day to her parents. Her head aches a little, but she'll never let it show.

After Aiko leaves, Toph sags into the couch like a puppet with all the strings cut loose. She takes a moment to reiterate what she knows and what she's missing, something she's been doing all year since the sessions.

Twinkletoes.

She can't remember his real name. Her parents never wanted her to talk about him, and at some point, Aiko must've pulled that away from her memories to stop her from thinking of him.

Toph doesn't mention her nicknaming habits to anyone, though, so she still remembers Twinkletoes: a loud boy, light on his feet, I'll find you, I'll find you, I promise.

Shouto Todoroki. She remembers him. Stay away. He has peppermint hair. He's quiet. He can't control fire very well. Stay away, stay away, stay away.

Toph can't really figure out why she has to stay away. Every time she tries to think about it a great sense of fear creeps over her and her head starts to throb painfully at the thought of fire.

Endeavor. There was an incident. The one she can't talk about. He's rude to parents, Toph likes that. He's dangerous, stay away. Well she's not going near any hero fights. She's no good against fire anyway.

Toph Beifong. Quirk?

...Earth Sense.

No. Earthbending.

She just wants to punch some people. She's going to see Twinkletoes again and show off what she's learned. Eventually. When they're heroes—

Toph winces at the pain that shoots through her temples. Right, she can't do heroes. Twinkletoes. Twinkletoes. He's light on his feet, and he told her—he told her they would be partners, and Toph believes it.

She trains because her quirk is weak. This thought has always been the hardest to fit into place, but it has to be true. It is true. She fights, underground and unknown, because she needs to fight. That is undeniable. It's why she started eavesdropping on delinquents and sneaking out at night to find the fights.

Toph's head throbs in protest, but the thoughts are wedged into place, immovable in her head.

She sighs, rubbing her temples. "Take that, Aiko."

PRESENT

It's Tuesday. Quirk Rumble 83 starts with a round-robin for the lightweight fighters and a short, two-day tournament for the heavyweights.

Toph loses her match, but with minimal injury. They have a medic for registered contenders, and Toph gets off with an ice-pack for her shoulder and an energy drink. Toph isn't too mad about the loss, though she could hear Nishiya and his friends groaning about it from the nosebleeds. She was up against some lady with a jumping quirk Toph had a hell of a time trying to pin down. Apparently the lady was pretty hot, because even though a lot of people had lost bets on the Blind Bandit there were even more people simply distracted by how much skin her opponent, 'Bunny Babe,' was showing.

Okay, so maybe that was a weird fight. Toph is nine years old and it's kinda hard for her to fully accept all the leering that goes on around her. That was the only sucky difference between underground fighting and hero-fighting. Underground fights were subject to a lot more pervs, and sometimes the fights turned into more of a show than a real challenge.

Can't believe I lost to someone named Bunny Babe, though, Toph thinks ruefully, sipping on her drink from the sidelines. They're onto day two of the heavyweight tournament now, which always gets the most attention. They have to be held in even bigger stadiums than what Toph fights in, and tickets are really hard to come by, so that usually filters out the gross people from the crowd.

"Hey little lady!" A thin man plops into the seat beside her. 'Quick Slice'. He's another lightweight contender, and a regular at the Quirk Rumble. Some of the contenders can be real dickbags, but others, like Slice, are kinda silly.

"Can't believe the Babe bested the Blind Bandit! What an upset! And what a show!" He nudges her with his elbow. "It's a shame you can't see. You're gonna miss out on a lot on those R-rated fights!"

Toph stops drinking to reach a hand towards her shoulder. Then, concentrating on the thin coating of dust over her clothes, she flicks out a dense pebble of earth that hits him squarely on the nose. She figured out how to do that against the Muddler two months ago, made it way easier to clean off her clothes.

Slice yelps in surprise. "I'm joking, you brat!"

"Shush," Toph says, tilting her head. "I wanna hear all the smack talk. This knucklehead is way funnier than you."

The man lifts his head in delight. "Who, big arms? Ooh, what do you think of the mask guy?"

Toph would give him a deadpan look, but she's still wearing the scarf to cover the upper half of her face. "Mask? You mean the dude with swords?"

"Uh, who else would I… Oh. Sorry B, I still forget. Sword-guy's wearing a full-face spooky mask. Kinda mysterious."

Toph rolls her eyes. It's not mysterious when you can hear sword man cursing under his breath and getting riled up by Iron Arms's taunts. "He's just another hothead. He's not even checking where he is in the ring."

"Huh?" Slice leans closer just as the smaller fighter is punched cleanly in the solar plexus, sliding uncontrollably towards the edge of the arena. At the last minute he's able to stab a dagger into the ground and halt his movement, but the knife sinks so deeply he has to abandon it. "Aw, no fair! The ground's all muddy from the last match!"

"It was already muddy," Toph argues. Despite being called an underground ring, this stadium is outdoors. Toph helped construct it in the middle of a swamp, so she has to stay to help break it down once it's over. Part of her deal with Loban is working as part of his staff.

"Still! No fair!"

"Quit your yapping," Toph punches him in the arm, just as sword guy twists out of the way of a punch and pulls himself to his feet. Huh, looks like he's not out of the game just yet.

"Look at him go," Slice comments anyway. "Like a little gnat. Can't believe he convinced Loban to let him compete. He doesn't belong in the heavyweight ring with those moves."

Toph wishes she could compete in the heavyweight tournament. It's pretty dumb to stick to a weight-class system when quirks threw such huge variables into the mix, but without any system it'd be total chaos trying to organize a tournament with all the fighters Loban manages. The weight system simply helps estimate the scale of destruction caused by the fights, though in this case it's mostly Iron Arms doing the work.

In the lightweight tournament she has to keep the damage to a minimum. Which is fine and all for practicing her aim and the minute details of bending, but it gets a little boring. But this? Iron Arms smashing up the ground trying to squash a small-fry opponent?

She loves this.

"Ooohh!" The crowd winces in sympathy as sword guy is finally whacked out of bounds, ending the fight. He's only a few feet from Toph and Slice when he finally rolls to a stop, groaning in pain.

Toph shakes her head. "C'mon Stabby. Even I saw that right hook coming."

Sword guy clutches at his side. He's probably got a few cracked ribs. "Aren't you—too young for this sorta place?" He pants as a few guys step up to escort him to the medical area.

Toph lifts her head to call back, "Aren't you too inexperienced for this sorta place?" She hears a faint "fuck you" in return, and cackles to herself.

PAST

"The Beifongs don't have a daughter," Umeko says into Endeavor's mind, letting her words seep into his thoughts. She can feel it twisting like a corkscrew, blocking off memories and emotions along the way. With the artificial high amplifying her quirk, Umeko can practically see the spider-web force of her words tying up knots and stitching together events and cutting off channels and worming into every crevice—and this is with just one sentence, holy shit

Umeko blinks, refocusing her gaze on Endeavor's paralyzed face. The victims to her quirk can maintain some level of awareness while she works. Endeavor looks furious. Umeko feels vaguely sick beneath the high.

She ignores him, moving on with the instructions left on her phone. There's a few more people and words that need to be pulled from Endeavor's mind, plus all the evidence he's collected, but someone else is in charge of all physical traces.

Umeko repeats the last few statements, but keeps her eyes shut so she doesn't have to see the tangled web of thought she's weaving through his headspace. Her quirk usually allows her to follow along someone's general train of thought as she adds to it, but this is much more complicated. Mental blocks are usually enough to erase certain events or ideas from a mind, but with the gravitas of what she's changing, it's… dizzying to look at.

"You're putting a lot of time into this case, hero," Umeko mutters to herself, sinking back into her seat. She has both her hands wrapped around Endeavor's fist. It's a good thing he wasn't wearing his costume today, otherwise Umeko would've had to grab him by the ear or something to catch him. "Take a break, you flame freak. I sure as hell would want one after this investigation.." She wants to go home. God, she just wants this to be over so she can be with her son and figure out cat names, she deserves a vacation…

Umeko pauses, opening her eyes to look at Endeavor. "You've been obsessed with this case from the start…. So why did you take that sick day?" she asks, prompting his mind to turn towards the memory. Umeko frowns, and dives deeper into the memory. A hospital. His wife? Oh, Rei does kinda look like Umeko with her hair down. His sons, however, take after him

It occurs to Umeko that she doesn't really know anything about Endeavor. He has some children, his wife is ill. There's a lot of emotions that are hard for her to parse through. "What happened to them?" Umeko whispers, "What happened to your sons?"

She presses into his mind again, and all she can see is fire.

PRESENT

Someone tall and lanky slinks into the seat directly beside Slice, silent as a shadow. Toph lifts her head in acknowledgement, and Slice pauses in his cheering.

"B? What're you...AH!" He whips around and jolts back in surprise at the stranger beside him. "Whoa, uh, hi, who the fuck are you?!"

"You two were in the lightweight fights tonight, weren't you," the stranger states. He leans back in his seat lazily, and Slice's heart rate skyrockets. Wow, Toph wishes she could be that intimidating without actually lifting a finger. "Quick Slice and the Blind Bandit."

"Yeah?" Slice answers quickly, matching the stranger's bored tone. "What's it to you, kid?"

"I'm not a kid. I want to join the Rumble." Now that, at least, catches Toph's interest.

Slice barks out a laugh that seems far more confident than Toph knows he is. "Oh, you're definitely a kid. Whaddya think, B? Student-aged for sure, and we don't do that here!"

Toph rolls her eyes, flashing an amused grin. The stranger does sound young, with a quick heartbeat that belies youth rather than nervousness, much like her own. "A delinquent student no less," she notes, taking a long sip from her bottle. "You can't even view the fights if you're under eighteen, buddy."

"But there's no way you're old enough to—ugh!" Just as Toph expected, the teenager's pulse jumps in surprise for a moment at her guess, even though it's painfully obvious that a lot of students watch the fights and not all the contenders are legitimate ones. "Quit beating around the bush. I want to enter. Where do I sign up?" He snaps.

Toph purses her lips. Loban made an exception for her, and she doesn't think the manager will appreciate her introducing more risky fighters to his tournament. "You can't sign up unless you check all the boxes, hotshot," she explains tersely, setting her drink aside to fold her arms. "And since I don't know how you fight… Tell me the truth, Slice—does he look like a contender?"

Slice is silent for a moment, humming and scratching his cheek in consideration. The teenager's pulse creeps up again as he tenses in place, but he doesn't say a word. Then Slice leans towards Toph. "He's about as scary as you are cute, Bandit. Could be fun to throw down with this dunderhead."

The stranger exhales an angry breath of air through his teeth, foot tapping on the ground.

"I'll see what I can do, eh?" Slice decides, hopping to his feet. "Keep an eye on the kid while I'm gone, BB!"

"Thanks," the teenager grunts out, curling his hands into even tighter fists.

Toph snorts. "You got a fighting name yet, or should I just call you Hotshot?"

The teenager freezes in place for a moment, his foot pausing mid-tap. "I actually need a fighting name for this shit?"

She grins. "Did you think my given name was Blind Bandit?"

"Shut up," he huffs, scratching his head in rough, sharp movements. "That slice guy just uses the name of his quirk, so I thought I'd do that."

Toph blows a raspberry at him.

"What?" He snaps angrily.

Toph though her reaction was pretty self-explanatory, but whatever. "Loban won't accept just any name. It's gotta fit with your theme."

"My what-now?"

"Oh my god," Toph sighs. "You're not a hotshot, you're a hot mess. Did you put any thought into this before you waltzed over here and asked to sign up?"

"Fuck off, kid, you're half my size. If you can do it, why can't—"

"And at this point, buddy, you better stop before you go from hot mess to just a mess on the floor," Toph interrupts him loudly, rising to her feet. The hotshot goes silent, if not in fear then at least in surprise. "I'm only trying to help, asshole. If you can't handle common decency you can leave right now."

She can practically hear how tightly he's clenching his jaw. His hand is twitching too, and Toph zeroes in on the movement, waiting for him to make a decision. She doesn't know a thing about this chucklehead's quirk, but if he's a hothead, there's a chance he'll lash out like an idiot.

If the ground beneath his feet tremble slightly, it's too faint for him to feel it.

"Maybe I should just go with Hotshot," he mutters, shoulders lowering. In one sentence, the tension building between them melts into thin air. Toph's glad. She doesn't need Loban yelling at her for wiping the floor with an audience member.

Maybe she's overconfident, but Toph doesn't go down easy. It doesn't matter how strong this dude might be, with a temper like that he can't be much of a challenge.

"You think?" Toph says neutrally, taking a step back.

He grunts in response, bringing up a hand to rub his chin. "You really are blind, right?"

Toph cocks her head to the side. "Yeah. It's no gimmick."

"Then how'd you guess it?"

She has no idea what he's talking about. "Guess what?"

"Hotshot," he repeats, like that's an answer. Toph's lack of reaction says otherwise.

He gives a soft huff of exasperation and folds his arms again, fidgeting like he's itching for a fight he can't get. "Nevermind. You'll find out if I get in."

Toph shrugs. "Guess I will. Good luck with that, Hotshot."


A/N: here's the start of book two! everything will be posted in this same story, i just like to separate them into 'books' for the story arcs and as an homage to A:TLA