"What were you thinking pulling a ridiculous stunt like that!?"

It was amazing how someone could raise their voice without actually shouting. If she didn't know the guy's Quirk, she wouldn't thought that was his talent. Or maybe it was a special talent and had nothing to do with Quirks. She didn't know and really couldn't give a crap. Alone in the other class's homeroom, the clock above the door ticking past four thirty in the afternoon, backpack slung over her shoulder and wearing enough bandages to make a mummy jealous, Ryuko scratched her nose, grumbled and wondered what she should cook for dinner. In that order. Maybe grilled chicken with vegetables. Or boiled beef with caper sauce. Or maybe stir fry beef with cranberry sauce?

Or everything.

Yeah, everything worked.

But dinner would have to wait because in the span of less than two minutes everything had gone to hell. She'd come to Vlad King for advice on improving her new move. Just like he asked. She'd followed directions. And how did he repay her kindness? By shouting in her face. It was why she really didn't care about his opinion. Because as their 'discussion' dragged past twenty minutes, her temper was rapidly descending into previously uncharted depths of annoyance and indignation, "In my defense, she was trying to kill me."

The tip of her nose itched.

She scratched it.

"Tell me, Matoi," jaw clenched tightly, Sekijiro Kan growled low enough that halfway across campus, Hound Dog's sensitive ears perked up, "Was it worth abusing your Quirk?"

Her mood plummeted another couple of stories before somehow rebounding back into something vaguely resembling boredom. She knew what he was doing. He was trying to make her apologize. Or admit she'd made a mistake. Her lips twisted into a glower. It would be a cold day in hell before she so much as considered apologizing. For anything. Because she'd done absolutely nothing wrong. And if Vlad King expected any sort of apology or half-assed excuse justifying her actions, he was going to be waiting a goddamn long time. She didn't need to justify anything. Her arm might be broken in several places and she'd spent the better part of a week recovering in the hospital, but the look on Couturier's face right before it disintegrated had almost been worth the psycho turning everything around and kicking her freaking ass.

Almost.

"Gotta say…" she lazily shifted her backpack, "…yeah, it really was."

Apparently that was the wrong answer.

Her hair rustled when Vlad King's ironclad grasp on his patience slipped, "DO YOU REGRET ANYTHING!?"

It was a ridiculous question.

So ridiculous, in fact, she considered turning around and walking out the door, consequences be damned. That was how ridiculous it was. God, why was she even talking to him? She could be doing anything else. Literally anything. Like hanging out with Tsu and Mako or dinner. Even doing homework sounded fun compared to whatever this was. Oh, right, she was trapped with Vlad King because she had to ask him for advice on improving her bullets. A hiss escaped her throat, followed by an unsubtle growl as she scratched the back of her neck and wondered whether to tell the truth or come up with a bullshit excuse if it meant getting home that much faster.

"My only regret is that I didn't kill her," it was impossible to separate her sarcasm from the vitriol turning her words radioactive.

Sekijiro wasn't a man who easily lost his temper.

As a professional hero and teacher, he couldn't afford allowing provocations and insults worm their way beneath his skin. He had thick skin and thicker blood. Which was why despite raising his voice, he remained as courteous and forthcoming with Ryuko Matoi as he did any student seeking guidance and assistance. She'd come to him for help and he'd be damned if he allowed his personal feelings interfere with his duties. No matter his opinion on the matter, he understood why Matoi developed such a dangerous technique. It didn't mean he condoned her decision. Merely that he understood the reasons behind it. This wasn't a philosophical or political conversation between two heroes on the merits of using lethal force against unrepentant villains who'd shown neither remorse nor compunctions against destruction and murder. This was a student – a young and emotionally damaged girl – completely invested in bringing her father's killer to justice.

Or whatever form of justice she felt was appropriate.

Attempting to dissuade Matoi would only serve to drive her deeper into obsession.

And truth be told, he found it regrettable she'd failed to put down that psychotic monster.

"Hmph, I cannot deny your ability possesses both incredible penetrative power and versatility. I might even go so far as to suggest I'm impressed," impressed was an understatement of the highest order, "My point is that you shouldn't do something so reckless without considering the consequences," contentment and disapproval intermingled, "We've discussed the differences between our Quirks. Unlike me, you only have a limited amount of blood," behind the orange visor, his eyes narrowed as the last dredges of frustration extinguished themselves, "Which is why I'm disappointed with you. Powerful or not, what good is a technique if you can only use it five or six times before losing consciousness? That's a question you should have asked yourself."

Ryuko rolled her eyes.

"Didn't you tell me I had to think creatively?" from the twitching of his jaw, she must've hit a raw nerve.

"I also said to speak with me if you needed advice. Which you didn't," Vlad King growled through clenched teeth before relaxing, "Of course, I'm no fool. You didn't buckle down and create this technique to –"

"Armor-Piercing Blood Bullet."

A gray eyebrow drifted above his visor, "I beg your pardon?"

"You heroes name all your moves," a snort ripped out of her throat alongside a mocking grin, "Well, that's my move's name. Got a problem with it?"

"Not at all," Sekijiro didn't care one way or another about the name. It was awkward. And almost a mouthful to say, let alone think. But the unwritten rules – and several written laws passed over the decades – granted heroes free reign to name their techniques as long as they remained within appropriate guidelines, "As I was saying, you developed your technique solely to take down Couturier, correct?" when Matoi nodded, he unfolded his arms, "That's what I thought. While I'm disappointed you didn't speak with me about it, it's impossible to question the results. Against such an enemy, one must strive to push themselves beyond their normal limits. Plus Ultra, if you will. However, that being said, until you work out the problems inherent in your technique, you're forbidden from using it on anyone other than Couturier. Do so and I'll have you expelled on the spot! Do I make myself clear, Matoi?"

The sun lingered just above the skyline outside the windows, casting orange-red light across the classroom.

"Yeah…yeah…"

Leaving Ryuko shifting her weight from one foot to the other despite agreeing with the older hero.

"Very well," beady eyes flickered towards the clock, memorizing the time before snapping back towards the mildly insubordinate student, "Moving on, I assume you've been keeping up with the list of exercises I gave you?"

She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth and looked away, "Ain't like there was anything else I could do in the hospital."

Vlad King smirked.

"Great," a strange and disturbing weight existed behind that frightening smile, "Once you've finished recovering we can move onto phase two!"

She blinked.

"Yeah, I know what you're thinking," he most certainly didn't know what she was thinking, "I would have started tomorrow, but school policy forbids practical training for any student on the hero course if they've been discharged from a hospital within the last forty-eight hours," he grumbled out several lines from the teacher's handbook, which made more sense in his head, "Alright! Phrase two involves teaching you one of my secret moves! And it's a good one! But don't expect it to be easy! This is an advanced and difficult move! Even with your impressive control, you'll find it quite difficult! One hour a day, six days a week after classes are finished, in Gym Gamma! At three thirty sharp!"

"Uh-huh…"

Her expression faltered from curiosity to annoyance in record time.

It wasn't the prospect of learning a new move that caused her eyes to narrow. Or her fingers to clench. If it meant kicking Couturier's pompous and psychotic ass, she'd leap headfirst into hell itself. Naked, if necessary. What she didn't like, and the reason she refrained from truly speaking her mind, was Vlad King single-handedly screwing up her schedule. A schedule Yaoyorozu found impressive. A new move was freaking terrific. And spending every afternoon for the foreseeable future learning said new move was even better while also studying for final exams and doing homework and everything else in her life, "How long are we talking?"

"Hmm, well, let's see…" the hero cupped his chin, "…it took me at least two months. So, I'd say about a month. Three weeks at the minimum."

She breathed in.

Then exhaled.

"I'll learn it in week."

"Ha! Ha! Ha!" it was abrupt. It was sudden. And it annoyed the goddamn hell out of her. Tossing his head back, Vlad King laughed. And laughed. And laughed, "Is that so?" eventually stopping, he smirked, "You're good, Matoi, but not that good."

"Oh, yeah?"

She countered with a far more vicious and cunning smile, "Then let's make a deal," it did nothing against the veteran hero, but it make her feel better, "If I learn your stupid technique in a week, you'll have that copycat give a speech on how much better Class 1-A is than Class 1-B. During Lunch Rush."

"…and when you don't," the homeroom teacher emphasized each and every word, "You will henceforth refer to me as Mister Sekijiro until the day you leave these hallowed halls!"

There were many things she despised.

And far more she hated.

But Monoma standing in the middle of Lunch Rush the day before their practical exams, teeth clenched and hands shaking as he forced out a speech comparing Class 1-A to the great All Might and countless other heroes, was perhaps one of the greatest moments of her life.