"Whoa, what happened here?" Ms. Joke asked, giving Moe a look when he tried to ditch his clean-up to come to me immediately. He narrowed his eyes at her, but grudgingly finished up.

"I found out the hard way that quirk counseling doesn't mean just sitting and talking." I told her, giving a good natured laugh. Moe finished and dashed over but I stopped him from hugging me. "Whoa, hey. I'm a mess. And not hurt, by the way. It's just dirt and sweat."

"Oh, who's counseling you?" Most of the kids left were older, so Ms. Joke leaned against the wall to chat, "UA doesn't usually offer that."

"Ah, Mr. Aizawa, my homeroom teacher, found out I'd never had quirk counseling since I was a late bloomer." Her eyes lit up.

"Shouta Aizawa?" She repeated, grin splitting her face, "Eraser Head?"

"That's the one." I confirmed proudly. She let out an obnoxiously loud laugh.

"You poor kids, I bet he's worked you to the bone and chewed you out daily."

"You know him, then?" She snorted.

"I am head over heels for him, but he refuses to date me." She sighed dramatically and I couldn't help but laugh. They were polar opposites. "He can seem tough, but he's an absolute softie underneath."

"Do you think…" I glanced down at Moe, "I mean, he said he wasn't upset, but if I, well, I injured him during training... if you know him, do you think he's secretly mad?"

Ms. Joke stared at me for a few seconds. I began to regret bringing it up at all.

Moe covered his ears. She burst into boisterous laughter.

"You did what?" She asked, "Oh, kid, Eraser Head is hardly ever secretly anything. If he were upset, he'd tell you. Judging by your face, I'd say it was an accident." I nodded quickly. "Did you get hurt?" I shook my head. "Then he's probably psyched. Remember, Recovery Girl can heal him right up." She looked like a child on a sugar rush, "I have to go make fun of him."

"What, wait, wait." I said quickly. Any panic she'd managed to persuade away returned full force, "Please don't. If he finds out I told you…"

"I'll keep my sources secret." She promised, "Now go clean yourself up."

On our walk back, I could feel Moe's stare as I yawned.

"Hey, no." I said, not even turning, "I'm tired because I was just training. Got it?" I glanced to make sure he nodded, "Good."

"What happened?" His voice was always so small and matter-of-fact. I paused. We were almost back to the dorm; I could see some of my classmates chatting outside. It was warm and sunny, so I sat us down on the grass with a big sigh.

"My teacher has me doing quirk counseling." I explained, "Remember when the school offered that for you?" Moe nodded. "I know you didn't do it either, but since I have to use mine a whole bunch for this track, my teacher is helping me learn more about it." My ponytail was lopsided so I redid it to keep my hands occupied, "And it's been really good, fun even. He's a little scary, but he's very helpful. I'll show you the crazy food and exercise instructions I got." No, changing the subject wouldn't work on Moe. I chewed my lip; it tasted like dirt. "...I had to get a rock from his hand, and he kept catching me, can you believe it? He's so good! When I pulled at his arm, though, I…" I offered a forced smile, "Well, I learned I have to be more careful. He wasn't mad at all though. I still wish I hadn't done that, though."

Moe tried to hug me again, and I held him back.

"Hey, seriously, I fell into dirt a dozen times, you can't…" Unsurprisingly, he slipped past me and managed to give me a solid embrace, "Ah, man." I complained, "Moe!"

"You're so cool."

That was the last thing I expected to hear. I tried to look at his face. Cool? Me? Right now of all times?

I finished shaking off the rest of my discomfort. I pulled him up into my arms, walking toward the dorm again.

"Hey, you haven't even heard that I'm vice representative of my class." I boasted. If he thought I was cool, then I'd just have to be cool, "See, I humbly said I'd bow out, but I might as well have caused a riot!"

I shared my story as I took him up and we washed ourselves off. Moe's new pajamas were a bit big on him, so he worked to push the sleeves up.

"Dinner?" He said once he'd more or less succeeded in freeing his hands. I pulled out the list Mr. Aizawa had given me. I'd definitely go to hell if I didn't follow it.

"…yeah. Help me find the salad station, apparently I need greens tonight."

Thursday passed uneventfully; Mr. Aizawa's wrist was perfectly cured in thee morning, Ida and I organized the classroom cleaning schedule, we had more seated lectures and I followed my regime to the T. I even got up extra early in the morning to do the exercises. Soon, I found myself back in the classroom with my teacher for counseling.

"Have you quit pouting about yesterday?" He pointedly used his formerly-broken hand to push one of the chairs into its proper place.

"Ah, yes sir."

"Good, because that's exactly what we're working on today."

He'd brought a stick off the floor, a saltine cracker, and a glass of water. After handing them to me, we stood across from each other inside the classroom.

"I want you to bring each of those items to my desk without breaking or spilling any, and without moving the desks." He gave a bit of an evil grin, "Also, you have until I take away your quirk. Ready?"

"You're mean." I informed cheerfully, bracing myself.

"Go!" I started with the stick, holding both sides and ducking behind a desk. I crab-walked around until I reached his desk and placed it on top. I dashed around the edge of the classroom to grab the cracker. But I was rushing too much because cracks appeared on it the moment I picked it up. I stopped willingly.

"I broke it." I pouted.

"Not just that." He picked up the stick from his desk and it split in two.

"What? I held it on both sides!"

"What happens when you hold both sides of something too tightly and apply pressure to the center?" He did so with a pencil, pushing with his thumbs. It snapped in half.

"Do we have back-up sticks and crackers?"

"Try the glass of water first."

"Yes, sir."

I picked it up ever so gently and scooted to the left to avoid my teacher's gaze. Much to my surprise, while the glass came without a problem, the water seemed to want to stay behind. No matter how slowly I moved it, the water shifted out the top then held its place, only subtly moving at all. I tried to refill the glass with the water, planning to put my hand on top to keep it in place.

My quirk disappeared.

The water helpfully moved from its position in the air and onto me.

I sputtered and let out a laugh. I held up the glass.

"Hey, but I didn't break the cup!"

After I mopped up the mess, Mr. Aizawa gave me a box of crackers and told me to keep practicing. When I picked Moe up, I was still damp.

"No, you're not allowed to ask." I said to the kids that remained in his classroom, "Only guesses will be accepted."

"You fought someone with a water quirk!"

"Someone pushed you into the pool!"

"It rained in your class!"

"Nope! You may never know!"

"Awwww!" They chorused. I winked at Ms. Joke and took Moe. He was looking at me expectantly.

"A glass of water." I admitted lamely, "During training."

He snickered.

"Hey!" I protested, "Okay, buster, just for that you're gonna help me train today! I have quirk training in my regimen for afternoons." He seemed psyched at the idea, "Okay, let's do this right here." I enjoyed the long green stretch of grass between his classroom and our dorm. I sat him down, then took a few steps back and sat down myself. I took out a box of crackers.

He cocked his head.

"My job is to bring you a cracker without breaking it. You'll only get the eat the unbroken ones, so you better root for me."

I opened the box and got started.

First five attempts failed. For the sixth, since I had a bit more room to put my hand in to reach for the next, I gently put four fingers on the back of a cracker, then four of my other hand on the front.

Taking my time, going very, very, very slowly, I lifted it out. I awkwardly scooted over to Moe, who was holding his hand out as instructed. Once I got there, I waited for a moment so the momentum would fade a little. Then I hovered my hands over Moe's and very slowly and gently pulled them away, leaving the cracker hovering over his fingers. I scooted back.

Whoosh!

The cracker dropped neatly into Moe's hand.

"Did it work?" I asked, crawling over now that that the moment was over. Giving me a rare ear-to-ear smile, Moe stuffed the cracker in his mouth whole. "YES!" I cried, falling on my back in relief. "Oh man, I have to find an easier way of doing that, Mr. Aizawa totally would have stopped me. But I did it! It can be done!"

I looked up when I didn't hear anything from Moe. He had an attempt at a serious look on his face, though he was still chewing and his eyes were glimmering.

He swallowed, cleared his throat, held out his hand, and instructed,

"Again."

Half a dozen more attempts, three of which were successful, I was beat and sleepy. So we returned to the dorm and I had coffee while I did homework.

When I went to bed that night, though, I felt for the first time that maybe I could do this after all.