That afternoon, Present Mic wants to see my quirk.

I stand against the wall in the back of the warehouse we first met Aizawa-sensei and Purple, biting my lip as I pinch the skin on my arms. It hurts and the black tentacles swim to the surface, bubbling out of my pores and coating my arms.

They wave in the space between us, twisting and coiling and writhing like snakes.

"Interesting," the blonde says, scratching his chin as he pokes one of the tentacles. It catches hold of his finger and I have to will it to let go—to not circle and swallow his arm, to not crush it. "I can see why Shouta says it isn't shadow manipulation. It is a little solid for that, and a bit too twisty."

I blink in surprise and he smiles.

"Hey, c'mon kid, you know I'm a pro! You think I haven't fought a shadow quirk or five? Ugh. So Shouta mentioned he thinks it's an emotional manifestation, what emotion would you call this?"

My mouth dries.

"I… Uh…"

He tilts his head and wiggles his finger.

"Happy? Sad? Angry?"

Mama gives me the look, lips pinched and nose crinkling in disgust. Red nails pinch and I shiver at the silent command. The cashier cringes, stepping back, wide-eyed and afraid. Thick, purple and black tentacles stretch into the air. They crawl like worms across my skin. They curl across the counter like vapor, hanging dangerously against the man's shoulders, slipping down his spine. The smell of darkness, of wet earth and bones. I focus on the fluorescence, watching the rickety lights sway and try not to gag.

"Fear," I whisper.

Present Mic frowns, eyebrows drawing together.

"What are you afraid of?"

If you weren't so weak, they could get more. They wouldn't fight.

Mr. and Mrs. Takamura come to school. They stare at me with shaking arms and pale faces. They whisper quietly in a room with the principal, their daughter clutched and crying to their chest.

W-W-What if I do neither?

Nobody's ever asked me that.

"I don't know," I tell him the shadowy tentacles thrashing more violently in my grip. I grit my teeth and try not to swallow down the hurt swelling in my chest. It feels like fingers raking under my skin, it smells like darkness and death.

Sensei watches with dark eyes.

"How big does that get?" he asks.

My arms shake under the pressure of holding the tentacles. They're more rambunctious today, more willful.

"I-I don't know."

One tentacle slams itself into the cement floor. It forms a crack. The other one follows on the opposite side. It stops being a tentacle, taking up the form of a crab-like leg, sharp and pointed. From it sprout strange, nightmarish things: claws, bony hands, batwings, and eyes. The leg almost seems to melt, and I grasp my flashlight.

Sensei studies the leg without apprehension, head tilting to the side, a finger tapping against his cheek. He doesn't touch it though. And he has to jerk himself back when a pair of razor teeth snap at his face.

"Alright, let it go."

I flip on the flashlight, the shadows swirl around me like a lasso of black water before sliding down my throat. I choke on them as they fill my chest.

"You know, that's pretty freaky up close," Sensei says raising an eyebrow. I cough and splutter as he thumps my back. "Talk about getting choked up."

I laugh through my cough. He stands up and moves ahead of me.

"Sensei," I whine.

He grins back down, one hand reaching out and settling on my head. It moves a moment later to my arm as he helps pull me to my feet. I puff out my cheeks, and he rubs his chin again in a way I'm learning means he's deep in thought. After a second, he pulls out his phone and sends a text.

"Sensei?"

"Hmm?" he asks, flipping through his apps quickly like he always does when it's out. He hits the button on the side, and it turns off with a little sound and shakes a finger at me. "Alright! Party time! So that was intense! Yeah? Heh, sorry kid, but we're not touching that again without Shouta."

"We… we're not?" I ask, voice filling with confusion.

"Nope." He pops the p and nods, a large grin still in place. He holds out a finger and shakes it back and forth. "One, it's too dependent on your emotional state. And two, I have no way to turn it off without knocking you unconscious. I'd like to avoid that, if at all possible. So, yeah, nope, not happening for a while."

I stare down at my hands and bite my lip.

"Oh."

"Oh no," he says, grabbing me by the shoulder and pulling me to his side. It's warm and smells distinctly of cologne. I flush and squirm as his fingers tightening. "None of that! Look, we need to work on the basics, and your quirk is no different. So what emotion is the flaming one from the Sports festival?"

I grimace and he lets me free.

"Anger."

"Damn," he says, raising an eyebrow. "Yeaaaaaaah, definitely not happening without Shou. But that's fine, let's work on some grappling throws and then get you home for your nap. I'll fix us a snack before patrols."

I wilt at the mention of a nap.

He wrinkles his nose and dances ahead, pulling a thick black mat from the wall and laying it on the ground.

"Sensei, what is this place?" I ask him as he unfolds it until it takes up most of the floor space.

"The warehouse?" he asks, bending down to shift the mat further out as one corner was bent against a wall. "It's one of our training places. Since Eraserhead is an underground hero it's not really ideal for him to go to the big training facilities. So we have a couple of these hidden around."

I nod, mouth opening in an o.

He raises an eyebrow and then shakes his head.

"Alright, listener, you ready to learn?"

I nod and he has me take my stance. He grins and only adjusts my hands once before giving me a thumbs up. I smile back.

"So first, what do you do when you face an opponent bigger or stronger than you?"

I think of Niko and answer instantly.

"Run." He blinks at me for a moment, confusion and something like concern stretching across his facial muscles. His mustache twitches and his head tilts to the side.

"Well… I… Hmm…" he flaps his hand, eyebrows furrowing, and waves me to stand. One hand settles on his hip and the other scratches his neck as I move out of the stance. "That kinda worries me. Rin-chan, is someone hurting you?"

I don't know how to answer that. I shrug, smile disappearing as I look down at my feet.

"Ah, sorry kid, but this is one of those times I'm going to need a verbal yes or no," he says. He sounds strained. I swallow.

"No?"

One hand settles against my shoulders and the other tilt my chin. I look up at worried green eyes. My lip quivers. I don't want to cry. I don't want to think about this.

"Rin, I know someone at the home bruised your face." His thumb runs across the bruise under my eye, light enough not to hurt, but clearly making a point. "Was that the first time they hit you?"

"No," I mumble.

His lips lower.

"Are they bigger than you?"

I nod, not wanting to speak, too afraid I'll lose my composure. Sensei seems to understand that. He sighs and pulls me forward against his chest, arms wrapping around my back and holding me tightly. He's so tall I barely reach his armpits. Slowly, cautiously, I wrap my arms back.

"You don't get a lot of hugs, do yah?" he asks quietly.

"No, Sensei."

He pats my head and I lean into the touch.

"Yeah, we're gonna need to talk about this, yah dig? Not now, but later. It's not okay for people to hurt you Rin-chan."

I don't answer and he lets out another sigh before pulling away. His thumbs brush across my cheeks, the rough pads smearing my tears.

"Let's practice this first, okay? This is how you take down a bigger opponent."

He gestures for me to fall into the stance he taught me previously and I do, wiping my face with my arm. The blonde man moves beside me reaches back, as if to grab someone taller than him.

"First, you wrap your hands around the attacking arm. Second, pivot so your back is to their front, keeping their arm in front of you." He gestures to an invisible arm and pretends to hold air. "You want to squat and thrust forward keeping your body straight."

He snaps quickly forward and thrusts down on the invisible person.

"So, let's see you try!"

I feel ridiculous trying to copy him on an invisible person, but I do as he says. He corrects several pieces of my posture before nodding.

"Good! Ready to try for real?"

I look at him in surprise as he takes off his glasses, folds them up, and places them on a shelf to the side. He takes off his jacket, the sound piece around his neck, and headphones as well. He looks weird with his hair up, but without the things that make him Present Mic.

"S-Sensei?"

"What? These throws can hurt, and I imagine it'll take a few tries. Now, are you ready?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good!"

He thrusts his arm forward and grabs me by my shirt. It's so familiar, I forget for a moment that it's my kind, funny teacher and imagine a gray, wrinkly appendage instead. I freeze. My breath clutches in my chest, and I try to rip myself backward.

He releases me at once.

"Rin-chan!"

"I-I'm sorry!" I say, feeling ridiculous on the mat staring up at the worried blonde. "I-I didn't- I'm sorry!"

He gives me space and I quickly rise to my feet, trying to ignore the pounding of my heart and the sudden nauseous ache in my chest.

"I'm ready," I tell him moving back into my stance.

"I don't think-"

"I'll do better!" I interrupt him, eyes wide. "I'm sorry! It-It surprised me. I'll do better, I promise!"

He scowls.

"You didn't do anything wrong," he says sharply. I flinch and he rubs his head.

"Sensei please-"

"Fine, we'll try again," he says. Then his hand, slower this time, reaches out and grabs my shirt. My first instinct is to break it and run, but I recognize it and smother it. Instead, turning as he showed me, I grab his arm.

"Better," he says in English, but it lacks the normal excitement. He adjusts the places I hold, moving my fingers across different muscles. I hadn't realized before quite how strong his arms were until I tried to grip them on his bare skin. "Now again."

I let go and he backs away. He reaches forward again, and I repeat the steps. We do this five times before he's happy with my ability to grab. The sixth time, he reaches out and tells me to throw him over. I try.

I hadn't quite expected it to be so hard.

I squat and thrust and only manage to pull him halfway up my back.

"Snap into the twist. Again."

It takes nearly ten more times before I roll him over my head. I still do it wrong though, because his leg kicks my head. But he hits the mat with a thump, and while my muscles are screaming at me from so much use, he offers me a peace sign from the floor.

Then he sweeps out my feet.

I squeal and land beside him with a thump. He laughs and sits up.

"Just 'cause someone's down doesn't mean they aren't dangerous," he says sagely, waving a finger in my direction. I rub my butt, eye twitching.

"I didn't know we were still going," I grumble. He laughs, rocking backward, and then jumps up to his feet. I rise as well, help him refold the mat, and put it up. He puts on his things again and throws me my water.

"Yeah, yeah. You ready for a nap grumbly baby?"

I scowl and roll my eyes and follow him home.

.

.

.

A shower and a short nap later, I join Sensei on his couch. He sits in what I assume is his favorite spot, feet propped up and the television on as he looks through his phone. I sit on the other end, curled up under a blanket.

After a few moments, he lets out a sigh.

"Alright, Rin-chan, time for a chat."

I turn from the screen where Tom is being led into a rather clever trap by the little mouse and wonder if this is a sign. I swallow at his rather serious look.

"Sir?"

"We're going to do this like a game, okay? I'm going to ask you either a question or for you to tell me something and you'll answer it with words to the best of your ability. No 'I don't know's' or shrugs, yeah? When you answer something deeply personal, I'll tell you something as well. I want you to trust me, so I'm going to trust you to keep my secrets. You dig?"

I look up with wide eyes.

"I… why?"

"Why what?" he asks face twisting in that silly curious look with one eye open and the other half-closed. I smile.

"Why would you tell me something?"

He turns his body towards me, one arm in the top of the couch and the other against his leg, leaning back against the couch's arm.

"When you share things," he says slowly as if trying to articulate how exactly to express this. "You open yourself to others. Sometimes that openness can hurt. Not always in the moment, but later, especially when you've never done it before or if you're still building trust. Sharing makes you vulnerable, and that vulnerability hurts. You end up staying up and asking yourself, did I say too much? What if they think of me differently? What if they don't like me, yeah? But when someone is open back, it's easier to remember that's not true. It gives you the courage to say to that voice someone does care, and it helps you remember that you're not alone."

He smiles a sad smile.

"Are you ready?"

"Yes Sensei," I mumble. I sit up and pull the blanket with me.

"Tell me about your home."

I curl my knees to my chest and pull the blanket tighter, hands wrapping around my legs.

"What about it?"

"Your life there, your daily ins and outs. What's a weekday look like normally? What do you eat? Who do you talk to? Where do you do your homework? Those kinds of things."

I don't want any more calls, you hear me?

I try to remember his list of things. My hand shakes and my heart thunders in my chest.

"I… uh, eat cereal for breakfast."

Sensei smiles.

"You wanna sit by me while you talk? You look worked up already." He pats the space next to him and I hesitantly nod. He smiles some more and waves me closer. I scoot over and he laughs, pulling me into his side when I'm finally close enough to grab. He's wearing a black sweater today, just as warm and fuzzy as the maroon one. It's soft against my cheek. His arm falls from the back of the couch to hang loosely over my shoulder.

"Let's try again with a different question. Let's compare bedrooms. Do you miss yours at home?"

I don't even have to think about that question.

"No," I say resolutely.

"Why? What's the difference?"

"Yours is warmer," I answer quietly, closing my eyes. "And it smells good, and it's always dry."

"Dry?" he asks oddly.

"You don't pour water on me to wake up," I say. Sensei makes a noise and hugs me a little tighter. "And… and it's blue. I like the colors."

"I see. Who pours water on you?"

"N-Nobody anymore. I have a lock on my door."

"Oh? I heard your clothes were vandalized a while back, is that when you got the lock?"

I shake my head before remembering his request. Use your words.

"No. They were on the door when I moved." I see his mouth open and I can already hear the question. Why did you move rooms? "There was a prank. They, they didn't mean for it to go so bad though."

"What was the prank?"

"The… others. They put powder in my shirt. I… I broke out in hives." Tears well up as I remember the painful welts that blistered and popped and oozed. I trace my scars.

"That sounds pretty scary," Sensei says quietly. I shudder a little though I'm not sure why. "And mean. You want to talk about it?"

I shake my head, and he sighs.

"When I was born, I had already manifested my quirk," Sensei says patting my arm. I look up at him in surprise. He smiles, eyes crinkling back. "I came out screaming at such high volumes that I burst everyone in the room's eardrums."

I suck in a shocked breath. He lets out a little laugh.

"Surprised? You shouldn't be. With offensive quirks like ours, sometimes there are accidents. It made my mother hard of hearing. My parents, they both wore noise-canceling headphones all the time, but there were still incidents. I didn't learn to fully control it until I was closer to ten, but even afterward I had slip-ups. It's the reason I know sign language."

Something in my chest tightens at that.

"You… You lost control?"

He laughs again, this time more like his usual self.

"Of course! Even as an adult I've messed up—and I'm a pro. Sometimes you can't help it. Will you tell me a time you did?"

I swallow and think immediately back to the tournament.

"At the sports festival," I admit.

"Yeah, kinda figured. What happened?"

"I… I already told Aizawa-sensei," I tell him.

"I know," Present Mic says. "But I want to hear it."

"Oh," I don't know how to feel about that. Why does he care? Why does he want to know? What, you want us to watch? Why is he doing this? "I… I was going to ask Yui-san to watch the sports festival. She didn't want to though… She- She wouldn't even look at me. I called, but it just… It just went to voicemail and I knew… I knew she wasn't. It made me mad. I… I nearly- I near- I almost-"

I break off, unable to say it. I look up at sensei. His eyes are green and intense, his face serious and sad. He says nothing, waiting.

"I don't want to be a villain," I admit suddenly. "Sensei, I didn't mean to. I'm sorry. I- I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-"

His face blurs as tears suddenly spill from my eyes. He turns, twisting to pull me more fully to him, to wrap his arms around me. I bury my face in his chest. It's so warm, his arms so strong, and it's the safest I ever remember being.

He pets my hair as sobs wrack my body.

"You're not a villain," he says into my hair. "You're not bad, Rin-chan."

"But I hurt people," I cry, fingers digging into the sweater, fisting it beneath my fingers. "All I do is hurt people!"

"Who did you hurt?" Sensei hums, his voice low and rumbling.

"Everyone," I say, shaking.

"You didn't hurt me."

.

.

.

I think I cry on Sensei for about ten minutes. He makes soothing sounds, rubs my back, and just mutters little comments. Comments that sometimes make me choke or cry harder. You're not evil. You're not bad. Rin-chan, it's okay. You're perfect the way you are, little listener. Absolutely perfect.

The last one makes me cry the hardest.

I don't know why.

When I'm done, he doesn't leave. Instead, he pushes me back into the crook of his side, pulls out his phone, and starts texting. I close my eyes and doze at the clicking sound. And glance up only when he starts laughing quietly to himself.

That's when the strange itch in my chest rises up.

You just got snot and tears all over a Pro Hero. He's your English teacher, what do you think you're doing? What's wrong with you?

The voice in my head sounds unnaturally like Yui-san. I swallow and try to ignore it.

"Feeling better?" Sensei asks when he looks away from his phone. I grimace and try to sink into the couch.

Don't get used to this.

"Yes Sensei," I mumble.

He gives a little laugh and pats my arm.

"Good." He groans and pulls himself to his feet. He stretches and his joints pop and creak. He throws me a peace sign. "Go change into your costume and we'll meet Shouta and Shinsou at the warehouse."