That morning, I climb from my covers and, without changing from my pajamas, start breakfast.

The dawn streams through the living room window, flickering past the open blinds, across the knotted rug, and lighting the room a warm honey gold. I smile at it, my own skin warming a similar color as I start a pot of coffee. In an almost sleepy daze, I drag over a stool and mount it, stretching up towards the coffee filters out of reach. I open the fridge next, pulling out the dark container of powder and scooping out four dark spoonfuls. I'd watched Sensei make this enough times, I just copy his movements, filling the glass bottom with water and pouring it into the back. I switch the machine on, remove the stool, and listen as it grinds to life.

I wonder if he'll like it.

I wonder if he'll smile.

I push away the thought and grab a skillet, eggs, a bowl, and fork. I work with quiet efficiency, scrambling the eggs as the familiar aroma of coffee seeps into the room.

You have two choices. You can move across Japan to another home. Or I will sign the guardianship papers.

He chose you.

"Hoki, what are you doing?"

I jump a little as Sensei's sleepy voice crosses the room.

Why are they calling you Hoki? I thought you said they were friends. You've never liked being called that.

Why didn't you say anything?

You have to ask for what you want.

"Making breakfast," I say. I don't turn around. Instead, I move to pull two plates from the cabinets along with his favorite coffee bowl. They rattle a little as I try to balance them all together. Cloth rustles, a hand neatly covers my own, and the familiar dark fabric of Sensei's sleeve fills my vision. He intercepts me and takes the dishes, carrying them over my head. I finally glance his way and he offers a tired quirk of his lips.

"Hoki-"

"Rin," I interrupt. Dark eyes rimmed with dark bags blink back. I nervously pull at my fingers. "Can- Can you please call me Rin?"

Sensei makes an odd humming noise and I blush before returning to the stovetop. I click the knobs in the back, turning off the burner and removing the pan from the heat. I scrape the eggs around trying to keep them from burning. He sets the dishes beside me and one hand moves to my shoulder.

I look back curiously, head tilting.

"Sir?"

"Go change," he says and then after a pause, "Rin."

My skin immediately brightens, lighting the room in white. I smile. Sensei ignores me, taking the spatula and plating the food I'd cooked. I scurry to my room and change, but it takes longer than normal, especially when long, glowing arms start manifesting from my skin. They pat my leg, try to hug me around the middle, and nuzzle at my face. I have to concentrate twice as hard to make them disappear.

When I finally finish, I return to find Sensei at the table waiting quietly, sipping from his bowl. Waiting for me…

Shouta can afford everything we've collected. His house is bare because he doesn't want stuff, not because he can't buy it. And he wanted to get you things. It's a parent's job to provide for their kids.

But I'm not his kid.

Of course you are.

My skin brightens again, tears filling my eyes, and the hands are back, sprouting from my arms and legs and back like tentacles. They wrap around me in a strange pseudo-hug, caress my cheek, and reach out towards Sensei.

"Rin, please control your quirk."

I flush and concentrate. The hands stop, evaporate, and the glow slowly disappears.

"Sorry Sensei," I say as I sit down. "Is the coffee okay?"

"It's coffee," he says flatly, and he takes a long sip. I smile and eat my eggs. After several minutes, my mind wanders again, to Kagura, to the villain, to Midoriya and Shinsou. It's been a hard month. "What are you thinking about?"

I blink and look over, unsurprised to find him watching me.

"Yesterday," I answer honestly. Sensei frowns. "Sensei, is… is it bad that I don't miss them?"

"Miss who?" he asks, setting down the bowl. It's nearly empty already.

"Yu- The people at the Last One? My old caretakers? My… My parents."

I look down and finish the food on my plate.

"Couch," he says. I sigh.

I grab my plate and stand, intending to rinse it first, but he takes it from me. I pout but he ignores me, nodding instead towards the living room. Somewhat petulantly, I go to the closet first, grabbing a blanket before taking up my normal spot.

I stretch noisily, catch sight of Miska in the cat tower, and rise again to go grab her. She grumbles in disapproval, but I ignore her. Instead, I lay out on the couch, my feet positioned at my end and my head in the middle towards Sensei's. I position the kitten on my chest, and she yawns cutely, little white teeth opening to expose a tiny pink tongue. I yawn back, smiling. Miska blinks as if in concern before she flicks her ears and begins licking herself.

I wonder if I can manifest tongues with my light to do the same thing.

I bet she'd like that.

Before I try, Sensei passes by and takes his seat, legs crossed, slumped forward, and head resting on his arm. I squirm on the couch, wiggling upwards until I rest my head on his leg. He raises an eyebrow but doesn't remove me or push me away. Miska, annoyed at my refusal to stay still, crawls over my face and stretches out in his lap.

I smile up at him and he rolls his eyes.

"You're worried about not missing your family?"

My smile disappears. I sigh. Several seconds later, his fingers tap on my forehead. When I look up, he gives me a particularly dry stare.

"I feel guilty," I admit, quietly. "I used to miss them, but now I don't."

I don't want to leave.

I don't want you to leave.

"I doubt your relationship with your family will ever be quite that simple." I blink in surprise, not quite sure what he means. I… I hadn't expected that.

"Sir?"

"It's okay to not want to go back," Sensei answers instead. The fingers on my head run through my hair, catching on knots since I hadn't braided it last night. He tugs them loose gently. "Would you blame Shinsou for not wanting to return to his old school?"

People used to say I couldn't be a hero, that I'd be a villain no matter what. It was because I have a mind-control quirk. I'd walk in a room and they'd pretend I wasn't there. Said they were scared I'd brainwash them.

"No," I say, and the word comes out with more force than I intend. "No, sir."

"Why not?"

"Because they were cruel to him! They called him-" I cut off as Sensei's lip twitches into a smirk. "Oh. I see."

Sensei says nothing, his fingers continue to work through my hair. I frown.

"Was… was Shinsou abused?"

The fingers in my hair pause. Sensei makes no noise, but I can feel the muscle under my head stiffen.

"The term, in this case, is bullied."

"Was- Was I really… really abused?"

I look up at him, eyes aching. He doesn't speak for a long moment and I can see in his dark eyes the way he's running through the different scenarios, trying to logic out the most rational answer. He sighs.

"Yes."

I don't cry.

"Oh."

I blink and think about the little girl from the one home, the one that cried and screamed all those nights. I think about the boy covered in marks, that flinched when you touched him. I think of Niko, angry and vicious and hateful. Was she abused too?

"Why?" I ask after a moment.

I imagine Mama, long red nails, crying in the bed, screaming as they pulled us away, scratching at their faces. I remember Daddy, throwing back the shot—tears rolling down his broken jaw, arguing with Mama at the table, she's only five.

"Why would they do that? Did… did they not love me?"

"I don't know," he answers.

I don't either. I close my eyes.

The sadness is hollow and deep, like a well you look into that never seems to end.

I still don't cry though. I don't think I have enough tears for that.

"I will never be able to replace your parents," Sensei says slowly, his voice softer than I've ever heard. "But I will never allow you to be hurt like that again. One day, maybe you can forgive them. Whether you choose to or not though, I will watch you."

It's like tentacles in my chest. They rise from that hollow endless hole. They squeeze at my throat and twist and scrape at my lungs. It mixes strangely with the warmth of his promise. It's almost like someone buried my flashlight in with them. Cracked and dingy and old, but still releasing that familiar, comforting light.

Yui-san's voice echos in my head. Old and cracked, her wrinkled face rising in my mind.

No more crying. Crying gives them power. If you want to be a hero, show them your strength. Smile.

I smile. It's the most honest one I can offer, splintered and worn and pained. He doesn't look away from it.

I will watch you.

"Thank you, Sensei."

.

.

.

Sensei allows me to stay like that for about fifteen more minutes before he starts grumbling. He picks up Miska, much to her annoyance, and sets her on my stomach before sliding out from beneath and causing my head to drop to the couch.

"Sensei," I pout.

"Go get your own pillow," he says flatly rising. "And think about something else."

I scowl but try. I go to my room and pull out my phone. I have several messages from my classmates, most of them some variations of 'are you okay?' and 'what the hell happened?' I respond mostly the same way to them all. A few ask more specifics, but I don't really answer them. However, when I click on Kirishima's, I can feel my mouth dry.

Hey, I was just thinking about everything and wanted to make sure you were okay. Yesterday was pretty crazy, yeah? Uraraka and I got to talking, and man, I don't know how to put this. So don't get upset, but dude is Aizawa your dad?

I blush.

Your Dad.

He's my guardian, I type back.

It's not even gone an instant before there's a response.

Dude, that's insane!

I have no idea what he's talking about.

I guess?

I really suck at this. Sighing, I shut the phone and pace around my room. It takes me a moment to realize I'm restless. The urge to move, to do something itches under my skin. I lay on the bed, try to read, and clean my room before giving up. I want to train. I want to do something.

"Sensei?" I call, leaving the room. He's at the table with a stack of papers. He looks up, frowning moodily.

"What now?"

I wrinkle my nose at him. Rude.

"I'm bored."

His eyes narrow.

"I have work to do, H-Rin. Go find something to entertain yourself with. You have a few hours before we meet Shinsou at the school."

I wrinkle my nose at him but shrug.

Turning back to my room I look around. I want to train, and I don't want to wait a few hours. Why should I? I go to my closet, pull out the black workout suit Yamada-sensei bought me, and change. When I finish, I return to the living room.

Sensei's sigh is both long-suffering and frustrated.

When I move towards the door, his hand falls against the table with a thump.

"What are you doing?"

"Entertaining myself." I unlock the door and his eyebrow ticks. He glares. "I'm just going to run."

"No, you're not. Lock the door back, entertain yourself inside."

I pout but lock the door back.

"Why?"

"What do you mean, why?" he asks, already turning back to his pile of paperwork. "Neither of those villains were caught yesterday and one of them is fixated on you. That psychopath watched you for nearly ten minutes before you noticed him. So, no, you cannot go out and run alone."

"Oh."

The look he gives me is nothing but contempt, I flush.

"What are you working on?" I ask instead.

"Work," he answers flatly,. I glance over and frown when I don't recognize them. Reports? "Go find something to do before I assign you something."

I huff and cross my arms and wander into the living room.

Fine, if I can't go outside, I'll just do it inside.

I lay on the floor across the rug and start a set of push-ups. After about thirty of them, I'm bored. I groan and flop on the floor. Miska, not wanting to be left out, jumps off the couch to rub her face against my own. I giggle and scratch her head before pushing her away. She returns right away.

"Miska," I whine.

She meows and bumps my nose.

Sensei sighs, loudly, from the table.

I grin back at Miska, glance his way, and then turn back to her. I roll over onto my back and sigh loudly too. I can almost hear him grinding his teeth.

"It sure would be nice to go outside," I tell the kitten.

"You're about to write an essay."

I giggle and sit up before something mischievous rises in my chest. I climb to my feet and race from the room, Sensei muttering behind me something I can't quite hear. I go to my room, pull a pen from my bag, and sit in front of the mirror. With precise motions, I draw two, short curled mustaches and fill them in. Then, looking around, I find a half-full water bottle. I chug it, replace the top, and settle it in my hair. It takes some extra work to get it to stay and I end up having to flip my head completely over, holding the bottle with one hand and raking my hair around it with the other. I gather it together at the top and tie it off with a hair tie.

I take it down twice before I manage to put it at the perfect angle.

When I do, I grin.

My dark hair sticks straight up, my drawn-on mustache curls, and I look enough like Present Mic I'm sure Sensei will recognize it. Going into my closet, I grab the unopened camera from Principal Nezu and pull it from its case.

It takes several minutes to set up.

Once it's ready I take a practice shot on myself. Turning the camera, I stick out my tongue and hold up a peace sign. It's the same pose from the picture on my wall. It flashes and hums.

The picture that prints out misses half my face, but clearly works. I giggle, brighten, and have to concentrate for several minutes to make the light disappear. When I'm sure I won't accidentally flare-up, I grab the camera and try to walk confidently back into the kitchen.

Sensei groans but doesn't look up.

"Rin, I am trying to work. You have one more time to-"

I hold the camera ready and giggle. He growls, looks up, and his face goes slack as I make Yamada-sensei's silly face at him. I snap the camera, the light flashes, and the camera spits out a little square.

"What the hell are you doing?"

His chair screeches and he rises scowling.

I can't stop laughing.

"En-en-enter-t-t-tain-"

I gasp for air, unable to breathe as I laugh, and show him the picture. It's hilarious. His long hair pulled back shows his every feature, mouth hung open and eyes wide. He chokes and glares and stalks towards me. I spin and race back to my room, hurriedly stuffing both the camera and picture in the closet.

He follows, face twisted in irritation as he catches me around the middle and pulls me out of the closet and towards his chest. In a smooth motion, he flips me over his arm and the water bottle in my hair crunches at it hits his leg. My feet fly towards his face and I nearly kick him, but he dodges.

He makes no move to put me down and I laugh harder, the blood rushing to my face, upside down in his hold.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm Present Mic!"

He snorts and the hands at my waist drop me. My face flies towards the floor and I scream, only for him to catch me a few inches from the ground by my legs. I laugh and cover my face.

"SENSEI!"

"I thought you were Present Mic. I'm not his teacher. Though you do seem a little short."

I swing myself and try to grab his leg, but he avoids me.

Instead, he walks over to the bed, flips me sideways nearly effortlessly, and drops me on the mattress. I bounce twice and he smirks down as I catch my breath.

"What is all over your face?"

"P-P-Pen," I manage.

"You are hilarious," he drawls tonelessly. Then he pulls out his phone from his pocket.

"S-Sensei, what are you-"

The light flashes and I gape at him, flushing.

"Sensei!"

"I'd suggest you become Rin again. And when you're finished, you can join me in the kitchen. You now have a two-page essay on the importance of self-restraint as well as a list of different, quiet, indoor activities you can indulge in while bored. I expect it to be finished before we leave."

.

.

.

"What's on your lip?" Shinsou asks, eyebrow rising when we finally arrive at the training ground, a forest with a rather large cleared area in the center. "Is that… did you draw a mustache on your face? What the hell Hoki?"

Turns out scrubbing off pen wasn't really as easy as I'd thought.

My face burns under the purple-haired boy's scrutiny. I glance towards Sensei, but he stares lazily back looking somehow both bored and smug—I'm fairly sure he's still annoyed at me that he didn't finish his paperwork.

Shinsou laughs.

"Why?"

"I was bored," I grumble. Shinsou laughs even harder and I feel my face redden further.

"You're ridiculous," he says after a moment smirking. "So why's Sensei so grumpy?"

"I took a-"

"You two, enough chatting. It's time to get started."

Shinsou glances between us and laughs again.

That afternoon, while Sensei walks Shinsou through how to hold, carry, and use the capture weapon, I work on my quirk. It's the first time I've really trained with it since… since I lived in the Last One in preparation for the Sports Festival. It's kind of strange to do it again, after spending so much time working on my physical strength.

"The manifestation of your quirk is based on the things you perceive related to that emotion," Sensei says flatly with his hands in his pockets. "Since fear is the most prominent emotion you will feel in battle, your focus today will be on that one. How many tentacles can you create and maintain with complete control at one time?"

"Two," I answer promptly. The dark-haired man nods as if having expected that.

"Attempt today to increase that number. Targets are set up in the trees. Stay within my sight at all times and stop if you feel yourself losing control. I do not expect you to work non-stop."

"Yes, sir."

Sensei gives me a long look before walking away and I get to work.

It's meticulous, boring, and hard.

My shadows are uncooperative, spiteful, and vicious. I don't know if I'm out of practice, or if I'm just that much more afraid than I was before—I don't feel any more afraid—but the moment I pinch myself, the shadows bubble up and lash out. It takes twice as long as normal to garner control, and I wrestle with it for most of the afternoon.

It's like starting from scratch again.

It's like trying to hold water.

If I thought controlling two were hard, controlling three is a nightmare. The moment I break my attention away from the two, the third unravels, transforms, and attacks at random. I stop focusing on the other two to control it, and they start twisting and changing instead. Snakes hiss on the ground, clawed hands scratch at the trees, and tentacles reach out to chase after wildlife.

At one point, one of my three tentacles gets away from me and curls around a tree trunk. Before I manage to pull it back, it squeezes, shatters the barks, and crushes the wood into pulp. What's left of the top creaks and groans and crashes to the ground.

I flinch.

When I look over, grimacing, Shinsou stares back with large, wide eyes.

Sensei glares, not at all amused.

"Hoki," he snaps.

"Sorry!" I squeak concentrating to drag them back. All of the tentacles form into claws then and they leave thick, deep gouges in the Earth. It takes several, long minutes to gather back control. "I'm sorry!"

"Stop apologizing. Do you need to stop?"

"No, sir."

He frowns, and I can feel his eyes lingering. By the end of practice, I've gotten absolutely nowhere, my arms are covered in familiar bruises, and Shinsou has a new appreciation for why my shadows are terrifying.

.

.

.

"I'm going on patrol tonight," Sensei says over dinner.

I blink at him, not really sure how to respond, and wonder if this is what Shinsou means by transitions.

"O-Okay?"

He scowls when my lips twitch in amusement.

"Is there something funny about that?" he asks, eyebrow rising.

"No, sir," I answer with a little giggle.

The stare he offers tells me he is not impressed. I turn and eat my vegetables to hide my smile as he huffs.

"I'm telling you because I'm leaving a monitor in your room. It will alert me if you wake up or anything happens."

I wrinkle my nose at him.

"Aren't those for babies?"

"Yes," he says, and I know the humor in his voice is payback for earlier.

"Why?"

"Because I don't trust you not to get up at midnight, realize no one's here, and decide to go gallivanting around," he answers tonelessly. "There're also about six more reasons, none of which I care to explain. None of them really matter. The machine turns on at ten and will remain on until I return."

I scowl.

"But that's- that's an invasion of privacy!"

"You'll be asleep," he responds dryly.

I frown at him, pouting. He ignores me and eats his dinner, though his lips curl into a smirk. When I finish, I take my plate to the sink and rinse it. When I finish, I grin at Sensei's back. I consider my chances at grabbing his cheeks with wet hands, but discard the idea immediately. Drying my hands, I return to Sensei's chair and lean over, grabbing him around the neck in a hug.

"I'm eating," he huffs.

I press my cheek against his own and giggle when his coarse facial hair digs almost painfully into my skin.

"Sensei, your face is rough!"

"It's too keep away touchy children," he says gruffly. "I'm hungry, let go."

I turn my face and kiss his cheek.

He makes a noise and instantly disentangles me. I grin noticing his flushed cheeks.

"Sensei, are you blushing?"

"Go entertain yourself," he growls, scowling. "Quietly."

I laugh and do as I'm told.