All Might's sudden appearance in a hospital creates impossible chaos. Somehow, I end up from his arms onto a rolling bed and then in a room full of doctors far too quickly to understand. And he doesn't leave. He stays, his humungous hulk taking up space as he follows me and waits. I don't understand, I don't want to. He hangs out until I'm put into a room, standing awkwardly to the side, pacing up and down the hall, grinning too widely at everyone that greets him. And then, when he does rush back off to wherever he goes, Toshinori-san arrives not even minutes later to sit with me.

He doesn't tell me how he knows where my room is. He doesn't ask about the bruises on my neck or my wrist. He just sits there quietly, frowning as they take blood, poke, and prod. They heal my broken wrist before smearing me in a thick paste that's later wrapped in bandages. I don't like it. I don't like the people's touches, don't like the way they stand so close, don't like the comforting smiles they offer as they chatter nonstop.

I don't like the jittery energy that thrums in my veins and just won't go.

You want to be a little hero and save the world? It's not the villains that are the problem, it's the world.

You're the only one with powers…

What if I do nothing?

"Toshinori-san," I mutter when the nurse and doctor leave. He looks over curiously, his phone in hand.

"Yes, Young Hoki?"

"Can… Can quirks destroy the world?"

The man frowns and puts away his phone, his entire attention focusing on me. It's a weird feeling, those electric blue eyes caught against mine.

The same color as All Might's.

"Hmmm… That's rather random, why do you ask?"

I don't answer. He waits, and after several moments, he clears his throat awkwardly and goes on.

"Ah… Well… It's an older theory, considered rather radical all in all. It's called the Quick Singularity Theory, this idea that eventually quirks will become so powerful they will destroy their human hosts and end the human race. Why?"

"Do you think the world would be better off without quirks?"

He blinks, obviously puzzled.

"I'm not sure what you mean by better," he says. "Without crime? No, not really. The world will always be full of people that want to hurt each other, quirk or not. With reduced levels of destruction? Probably, but even before quirks, there were weapons of mass destruction."

"Do you have a quirk?" I ask.

He hesitates to answer, and I look away, something sour and bitter bubbling up my throat.

"You don't have to tell me."

"It's not that I don't want to, Young Rin. It's more so that the answer is rather complicated, and part of that answer would put you in danger. Considering how easily you seem to find it, I would rather not."

I grimace, examining the painted brick of the hospital walls. It's the same color as Recovery girl's ward. The same as the doctor's room. I wish I'd never gone. I wish I didn't know. I wish I'd never helped him—never touched his skin.

Sensei on his knees, fingers splayed across his side, blood dripping on the ground.

The syringe glinting in the light, liquid blood red.

You're a villain!

He gave it to Asp.

"Can you tell me why you hate All Might?" he asks, voice pulling me from my head. I cringe into the bed, sinking into the too firm mattress and sliding under the sheets.

"I… I don't hate him," I mumble. He tilts his head, the frown not leaving his face. "He… He just scares me."

"Why?" the blonde asks, his eyes shining.

Why are they the same color?

Blonde too.

"I don't know. Why does it matter?"

He releases a disappointed sigh and I wrinkle my nose.

"He… He was worried about you," Toshinori says after a long moment. "You know, he raced across the city when he got Present Mic's phone call that you were in trouble."

"He… He did?"

"Yes," the man says emphatically, and he gives a kind, almost hopeful smile. "Without a second thought."

I scratch at my arm, an invisible itch growing in my mind.

"How do you know that?" I ask, uncertain.

"Oh… well, ah… he told me!" Toshinori-san says, and he rubs his head oddly. "How do you think I knew where to uh… to find you?"

I don't know.

"Oh."

I stare a little harder and the thin man twitches in his chair.

He's nervous. He's hiding something.

Aren't you in enough trouble?

"Is… Is Yamada-sensei okay? He… He was bleeding…"

"When you ran off?" Toshinori asks with a rather pointed stare. I flinch and he sags, his shadowed gaze glancing away. "I believe so, he was admitted shortly after you were. I haven't been by to see him, but I believe he reunited with Midnight not long after you left."

I grimace and sink into the bed, overwhelmed and exhausted. The frail-looking man leans forward, touching my hand.

"You should rest. Aizawa-kun is on his way. He should be here within the next hour."

That doesn't bring any comfort. I grimace.

"I'm in trouble."

Toshinori-san gives me a weak smile.

"I'm sure it will all work out."

.

.

.

Sensei is not pleased when he arrives. He stalks into the room like a wrathful shadow, eyes flashing and hair disheveled. He doesn't greet anyone. Instead, he makes a beeline for the bed, picking up the clipboard at the end with a growl. His face darkens and nostrils flare as he reads.

"Aizawa-kun," Toshinori mumbles, shifting nervously in his chair.

My homeroom teacher looks up and glares.

"Yes?"

"They, ah… They said she would be fine…"

"Fine," Sensei repeats around gritted teeth. "I'm not sure there's anything about this situation that can be classified as fine…" he exhales sharply. "A broken wrist, bruised throat from asphyxiation, sprained ankle, multiple cuts, lung damage from debris in the air, and no comment on the psychological effect."

Toshinori sighs.

"I… I'm sorry, Aizawa-kun. By the time I received the message-"

"You are mistaken," Sensei says sharply, and then, stiffly, he bows. "I'm not blaming you. Thank you for your help."

I stare between the two as Toshinori pinks and Sensei stays rigidly bent forward.

The stress and confusion and pain swirl in my chest.

I don't get it.

I don't have time to consider it, black hair falling in messy waves as my guardian straightens. Dark eyes turn to consider me, his stubble uneven and messy; his lips curved down and flat.

I realize then that he's furious.

"You are grounded."

No one will ever really love you like your parents. If he's adopted you, it's out of pity.

Black, hot anger rises in response, heating beneath my skin.

I glare.

"Aren't you supposed to greet people when you walk into a room?" I snap, arms crossing defensively. He grinds his teeth and narrows his eyes. Toshinori-san makes a noise and quickly removes himself from the room.

I don't blame him.

I wish I could run too.

My body aches as muscles contract, adrenaline pumping through my blood, and the urge to fight rises again.

"Hello, Rin," Sensei corrects, voice acidic. "I believe I told you not to run off from your godparents."

The starchy, white sheets crumple beneath my fingers.

"It was an emergency."

"Yes, and we discussed what to do during those," he says, his voice dangerous. "None of those discussions included you running off alone to a building across town in the middle of a villain attack. Especially not allowing a complete stranger to inject you with experimental drugs."

"Yeah! Well… Well, I was putting people in danger!" I growl.

"So you put yourself in danger?" he asks, his baritone voice even and cold. "Does your life mean nothing to you? Do other's emotions mean nothing at all? How do you think Hizashi would have felt if you'd been permanently injured? How would Nemuri have felt if she'd been the one to find your body? Do you have any idea how terrifying it is to receive a call from a nearly hysterical Hizashi to tell me you just left him, that you disobeyed a direct order? To hear that he couldn't track you because of an injury he'd sustained protecting you from villains? I wasn't sure if I'd find you in a hospital or a morgue."

My anger breaks at his words, twisting away to guilt. It claws beneath my skin, making my tongue feel thick and dumb.

"I- I-"

"You what?" he grinds out. I swallow as his eyes flash and his fingers curl into the fabric on his arms. "You didn't think of that? Oh, I know you didn't. I'm not sure you thought at all beyond your misguided guilt and self-sacrificing mentality. Instead, you rushed off into danger like usual. Like in the mall and during the Nomu attack and in the USJ. Running headfirst into situations you had no business involving yourself in with reckless abandon. You allowed a complete stranger to inject you with drugs. Do you have any idea how dangerously stupid that is? You had no idea what was in that! What if he lied to you? What if that was a tranquilizer or poison? You put your faith in a complete stranger that hid in a fucking bush, tried to make you follow him at night, and made you promise not to tell the adults? You chose him over Hizashi?"

I flinch but he keeps going.

"You were beyond lucky today. You could have been killed, you could have been kidnapped, you could have been trafficked! Do you know what happens to teenage girls that get sold on the black market? They get drugged, they get raped, they get killed! They get turned into sex slaves or lost in labor trafficking rings. They get used in underground experiments, locked in cages, and treated like vermin."

He stops when I cry, his teeth clenching and hands running through thick, black hair.

"Damn it, Rin."

I choke on the words I want to say.

I'm sorry. I didn't want him to die. It was all my fault.

"Come here."

I do, swinging my feet to the side of the bed and rising. My legs shake, my body aches from the new collection of bruises, and my insides twist. But I cross the room, hobbling on my tender ankle. He reaches out and pulls me forward, dragging me into his chest in a crushing hug. Even so, he's mindful of my wrapped wrist, adjusting his arms so it's tucked safely to the side. His fingers rake through my hair, his other hand flat against my back. He smells like detergent, like home. And it hurts. I bury my face in the black cloth of his hero uniform, fingers twisting and sinking into him, clutching onto him as the terror and helplessness threaten to pull me under.

"You were incredibly reckless. You will never let someone inject you with unknown drugs again. Do you understand me?"

"Y-Y-Yes, sir."

He doesn't let go, face tilting forward, the bristle of his chin scraping across my scalp.

I sob against him, face throbbing and snot leaking from my nose.

He breathes in and sighs, sounding more exhausted than I ever remember.

"Scared," I whisper, pushing closer, falling into his warmth.

"You're safe now," he says, and he sounds like Sensei again, tired, worn, and half bored. My body shakes. "It's going to be okay. You're safe."

I cry all the harder.

.

.

.

Yamada-Sensei and Midnight appear after the police debriefing, their faces drawn in worry and covered in scratches. Both wearing different clothes. Midnight crosses the room without hesitation. She gathers me up, carefully not jostling my wrist, and patting my face. Yamada-sensei stands back, expression mixed as he speaks in low tones with my guardian.

"Rin-chan, I'm so glad you're okay!" Midnight says, and I'm surprised to note the tears in her eyes.

Why?

Why is she crying?

I cringe back, uncomfortable as Sensei's words flitter through my head.

How do you think Hizashi would have felt if you'd been permanently injured? How would Nemuri have felt if she'd been the one to find your body?

"I… I'm sorry," I whisper to her, looking away.

"Yeah, me too," she says quietly. She runs her fingers across the scratch on my cheek, eyes dipping down to my neck.

She doesn't say more, her gaze flickering back to Yamada-sensei. When his green eyes turn to me, he scowls, expression dark.

I shrink.

"You and I, Rin, are going to have several conversations when I get back," he says, voice rough and raw. I flinch at the tone and he doesn't even bother to disguise his disapproval. Aizawa-sensei makes a disgruntled noise and Midnight sighs.

"We're leaving now," Aizawa-sensei says. "Before she finds more trouble to get into."

"Probably for the best," Present Mic says, lips thin. "I'll see you later."

Aizawa nods. Midnight helps me stand.

Yamada-sensei gives me one last look and leaves.

"Be safe," Midnight says, kissing my face.

I sniffle. Sensei grunts. She kisses him too, her lips pressing slightly against his cheek. He doesn't stop her, but his expression is annoyed when she steps back.

.

.

.

The ride home takes forever.

Unlike before, I don't sit in the back. Sensei doesn't let me. Instead, he opens the passenger door and all but puts me in the seat. He closes it gently behind me, his actions at odds with his expression. Probably afraid I'll run off. The thought gives me no relief and he stuffs the suitcase Midnight apparently found and rescued into the back. He digs out my bunny before circling to the front. He tosses it in my lap, starts the car, and without a word, buckles himself in. I hug it tightly to my chest, unwilling to speak in fear that I might start crying all over again.

So we ride in silence.

No radio, no talking, just the low, throaty moan of Sensei's sedan as it moves through the city, past the beaches and destroyed buildings, through the destroyed All Might signs and festivities.

You gave it to villains!

I had no choice.

My head spins with too many thoughts even as the destruction falls away, replaced by dark greens, pines, and nature.

You're a moron if you think it's free. Nothing in life is free!

"Rin," Sensei says, his voice cutting through my thoughts. I glance over, taking in his profile, the way his lips still curl down, the crinkle of his eyes, and the dark shadows beneath. He doesn't turn, his gaze following the road. "What are you thinking?"

I turn away, not answering, staring out the window again.

He doesn't badger me to speak, doesn't grab me up in hugs like Midnight, or fill the silence like Yamada-sensei. He just waits.

No wonder it chose you. It always finds the pathetic ones, the unloved wretches that no one will miss.

"I don't need your pity."

He growls.

"If you think I'm pitying you, you are mistaken. I am angry, Rin. Tomorrow you're going to see Recovery Girl, and for the rest of the week your training has doubled."

My mouth dries and I swallow.

"You… You took me out of pity," I mumble. He hears me. His eyes cut from the road to stare, narrowed and beady.

"I did not."

"He- He said you did!" I argue back, uncertainty pressing in even as countless emotions claw through my body.

What are you doing? You're making a mistake!

"He, who? The scientist?" Sensei asks his voice full of contempt. "And how would he know anything about that?"

"He… He said I was pathetic, that his quirk would find the people no one would miss."

"And you believed this?" Sensei's lips thin. "You are not pathetic. Pathetic would be the grown man hiding under a desk letting a half-trained teenager fight his battles. As for no one missing you, that would be wrong as well. Hizashi alone has blown up my phone over the last hour in concern."

I stare.

The doubt creeps back in.

"Yamada-sensei hates me."

Sensei snorts.

"No. Hizashi is pissed. You left him on the side of the road, bleeding out in the middle of a villain attack to run off under the effects of a clearly dangerous quirk. And when you finally answered his call, you didn't answer at all. He has a recording on his phone of that scientist giving out the address over the sound of you and the villain fighting and shrieking in the background."

I flinch.

"Now what other nonsense has this scientist told you?"

"It's… it's not nonsense."

"It's not true," he says flatly. "I can assure you, both your friends and classmates care. I care or I wouldn't bother to scold you. You are not pathetic, and I didn't become your guardian out of pity. That's zero out of three."

"Oh."

Sensei exhales loudly, his shoulders relaxing slightly.

"Rin, what else did he tell you?"

I stare out the window, at the trees still passing by and sigh.

"I called him a villain and… and he said he wasn't. That… that his quirk was hurting people, that… that he couldn't stop it. He was a foster kid."

"So you identified with him," Sensei says, pinching his nose. "I'm sure he had some semi-plausible excuse for why he's not registered his quirk in the database or why going around using a false name. Why he's conducting unsanctioned experiments with a drug he's providing villains—villains like Asp."

Sensei's logic makes me uncomfortable.

He waits expectantly and I swallow again.

"He said he couldn't help it! That... that the villains were the source of the… of the compound. That he had to trade to get it. Otherwise- Otherwise he could hurt people."

"Or he could turn himself in," Sensei disagrees.

"The government would kill him," I argue, biting my lip. "The law says he would… he should kill himself."

"It does not," Sensei huffs, rolling his eyes. I stare.

"It… It doesn't?"

"No," he says, voice taking on that same lecturing tone he uses in class. "The law states that unregulated use of a quirk is subject to disciplinary procedures including jail time and possible execution depending on the level of destruction and intention of the user. If he had registered properly the moment he understood the drawbacks of his quirk, he could have been placed in a facility that either trained him not to release the side effects, or he could have been provided with a support item that properly protected him from touch. Instead, he chose to put people in danger and develop an unsanctioned drug—both illegal activities."

I don't know what to say.

"Had you taken Hizashi or even Nemuri with you, they could have told you that."

I flinch, shame and guilt curdling in my gut.

We fall back into an uncomfortable silence as the car drives, and eventually, I fall into a restless sleep.

.

.

.

"Wake up."

I yawn and scrub at my eyes, stomach rumbling. Hands unbuckle my seatbelt and I blink up tiredly as Sensei frowns back.

"We're home."

"Oh."

He smirks, the first tiny smile I've seen from him, and clambers from the car. He unloads the luggage, gesturing for me to follow, and I trail behind him with my stuffed bunny.

The apartment looks and smells like it always does, the same bland hallways, the same peeling walls, and the same dingy light. Even so, stepping into Sensei's apartment is like coming home. It's like shedding a too heavy cloak.

I cry.

Miska bumps against my legs and I fold in, crumpling on the floor and gathering the not-so-little kitten in my arms. She purrs vivaciously, nose and whiskers rubbing against my chin, back arching under my hands, soft fur gliding between my fingers.

"M-M-Miska."

Sensei steps around me, depositing the luggage in my room before returning to the hall. He squats, picks up the rabbit, and presses a hand against my head.

"Don't linger in the doorway. Toys are in the cat tower."

He drums his fingers gently against my skull, stands, and locks the door behind me. I watch, mystified, as he moves to the kitchen, tossing the rabbit on the couch and washing his hands. He moves in his usual habit, falling into the familiar routine as he pulls out chicken, vegetables, and a pan. I don't even have to guess what we're eating. That's... it's reassuring. When he catches me staring, he offers a bored expression.

"Yes?"

I shake my head and stand.

The kitten paws at my braid as I carry her to the couch. I sprawl out, setting her on my chest, and running my fingers down her back. She stretches, paws kneading air, and lets out a giant yawn. I smile fondly.

"I missed you," I whisper, tears still dripping from my eyes.

She doesn't seem to mind.

"I'm in trouble."

Sensei sighs behind me, his knife making loud thumps as he cuts up the chicken. I want to pull out spices, but I don't know if I should—if I can. Miska doesn't care though, she never does. She headbutts my chin, whining for attention and forcing me to scratch her back at the base of her spine and right behind her ears.

I pet her until dinner, when Sensei finally calls me to eat and I leave to wash my hands.

The awkward silence is back.

Sensei eats quietly, eyes half-lidded with mechanical motions. It takes me a moment to realize he's half asleep.

"S-Sensei?"

He blinks and looks my way. When I just stare back, he frowns. He blinks twice before his lips thin.

"Yes?" he asks, tone sharpening.

"Are… are you okay?"

"I'm tired," he answers shortly. "Hizashi called at the end of my patrol."

Which meant he hadn't slept all night. I swallow and shrink into the chair, guilt rising again. He doesn't look amused. He drains his water and scowls. When he finishes, he stands, rinses his dishes, and lingers in the kitchen.

"I'm going to sleep," he says, still dressed in the hero outfit he must have been wearing all night. "You will wake me if there's an issue. You can start on your apology letters if you need something to do. Where is your phone?"

I flinch.

I hadn't gotten it back.

"W-With the doctor?"

He stares back unimpressed.

"We will discuss it later. If the pain medicine wears off, you will come get me. If you get overwhelmed, you will come get me. If you are upset, you will come get me. Do you have any questions?"

I shake my head and he sighs. Shoulders dropping, he pats my head as he passes and disappears into his room. I don't hear the drawers' slide or even the sound of rustling. I'm fairly sure he just collapsed, fully dressed on his bed.

What other nonsense has this scientist told you?

Plays the perfect little Dad, right? I had one of those too. Tucks you in, tells you to talk to him. That you can trust him. Feh. Wait until you fuck everything up, it ends.

It ends.

I eat the rest of my dinner in silence.

.

.

.

Sensei wakes up around 9:00 and comes to check on me with a knock. I look up from my desk, Miska curled around my feet, and frown. He's still wearing his uniform, the dark fabric wrinkled, though minus the capture weapon he'd had on earlier. He rarely wears that inside. His eyes linger on me for a moment before moving to the multiple balled up sheets of papers on the floor and he raises an eyebrow.

"What are you doing?"

I scowl.

"Writing apology letters, you know like you told me to," I grumble, frustrated. I'd been working since dinner to no avail. As usual, I couldn't find the words. Nothing came out right.

He flashes an irritated look and steps into the room, bending down to pick a balled-up sheet off the floor. He uncrumples and reads over it before giving me a flat stare.

"You're making this harder than it actually is."

I glare.

"Thanks, that's real helpful," I snap.

His eyes narrow and he crosses his arms.

"Watch your tone. Have you been working on this since dinner?"

"Yes," I grouse, annoyed that he's even asking. Wasn't he the one that assigned it? "You told me to write them."

"Couch."

"Again?"

I shove away from the desk, Miska waking and racing out of the room at the unexpected noise. Sensei crosses his arms, unimpressed.

"What have I done now?" I snap, kicking the balled-up paper. It scatters across the room and I kick two more before making it to the hall.

"I asked you to go to the couch, are the dramatics really necessary?"

I don't even bother to respond to that, stomping through the hall and to the couch. I flop on it angrily, taking up his side just to be spiteful. The look he gives me when he comes to stand over me says he knows exactly what I'm up to and to stop.

I slide to the middle and he sits.

"I told you to get me if you were frustrated."

"No, you said to get you if I was overwhelmed. Which I'm not."

"You're kicking and stomping around like you're three."

I glare.

He makes it all sound so irrational.

"Well, maybe I'm just bad!" I snarl. "Maybe I'm just stupid and bad and maybe I'm the one cursed, because I can't ever do anything right and-" Sensei sighs. "And- And- And- stop sighing at me!"

My lip quivers and I grab the nearest object, a blanket draped across the end of the couch, and toss it at his face. He catches it and glowers.

"Don't throw things."

"Don't sigh at me!"

He drops the blanket between us.

"Rin. Calm down."

"I am calm!"

"You're yelling because I sighed."

"It's rude," I snap angrily. His eye twitches. "I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry I suck at being good! I tried! I tried and- and-"

"Breathe. Now."

I glare.

"No!"

Sensei grunts, moves across the couch, and pushes my head down for me, pressing it until I'm bent low with my face between my knees. I gasp, arms immediately moving to grab the offensive appendage. He lets me, lets me struggle, but doesn't move.

"Ten breaths, Rin."

I do, sucking them in so fast and loud they make my head spin. He releases some of the pressure but doesn't move his hand.

"Slower, again."

I do, and when I get to the tenth one, his hand moves away. I don't sit up.

"Nikko was right," I whisper, folding my arms across my knees and burying my face there. "I am a villain."

Sensei huffs.

"Rin, stop feeling sorry for yourself. You're not a villain and you're not bad. If anything, your behavior today was more akin to a vigilante than a villain. You made a bad decision, you survived, we move on. The point of consequences isn't to hurt you further, it's to teach you not to do it again. Knowing what you do now, would you do it again?"

Yes.

Sensei makes a noise in the back of his throat.

"That answer better be no."

"Sensei got hurt because of me!" I argue, sitting up. I snatch the blanket and pulling it over my shoulders.

"You got hurt because of you. You nearly died, Rin. Your life is not some expendable thing to bartered off at every chance. Hizashi is a fully trained hero. He knows his limits, which you do not, he knows how far he can push himself, and he isn't suicidal."

"He was bleeding out and said he was fine!"

"If you didn't believe that, why the hell would you leave him on the side of the road in the middle of an attack? Especially when you both had a phone? You call for backup. You send out an SOS. You knew Midnight and All Might were both in the area."

I flinch.

I hadn't thought about it.

Sensei rubs the bridge of his nose.

"I don't expect you to know what to do in all these situations, it's why I told you to stay with your godparents. I trust them to know what to do in all these situations. This is the same issue from Monday and the same problem that seems to be at the root of all of your bad decisions. Your refusal to communicate."

I stare at my feet, and Sensei sighs.

"Do you want a hug?"

"Yes."

He doesn't move and I crawl to his side, burrowing as close as I can. He's so warm and solid, the fabric of his uniform soft against my cheek, the smell of detergent distinct and lulling. I rest my head on his chest and the sound of his heartbeat thumps comfortingly in my ear. He loops an arm around my shoulders loosely.

I missed this.

I missed him.

"You don't have to wait for me to offer, Rin. You can ask. You need to ask."

"Yes, sir."

"You have ten minutes until bedtime. Is there anything you particularly enjoyed about this trip?"

I close my eyes and try to think. It's hard with all the thoughts still crammed into my head.

"I got to see Toshinori-san," I tell him softly. He snorts.

"Do you enjoy his company?" he asks, and there's a dry humor in his question that goes over my head.

"Yes. He's nice."

"Interesting. Anything else?"

I consider it, I had enjoyed several things. Swimming with Sensei, Aunt Nemuri reading me bedtime stories, the silly moments, talking to Shinso and Midoriya. My stomach drops.

"Oh no."

"What?"

"I... I never responded to Midoriya-kun," I whisper, looking up with wide-eyes. Sensei blinks for just a moment before his mouth splits in a stupid, fake grin. It's that one he uses in class that's all teeth. I scowl and push my face into his armpit, blushing. "Don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Your weird smile," I answer, refusing to look up.

He snorts.

"So I can't smile?"

"No, you make it weird."

"Says the kid talking to my armpit."

When I look up, he's still grinning. I flush and push my head back and grumble. He chuckles and runs a hand through my hair.

We sit there for a long time, his hand moving through my hair, his calloused fingers against my scalp in a soothing gesture until I feel boneless and warm and safe. I sigh into his chest.

"Will you read me a bedtime story?"

The fingers pause.

"No."

I pout and look up through dark lashes.

"Please? Aunt Nemuri did."

"Of course she did. Rin, you're fifteen. No."

"A story then? About when you were in school?"

He sighs and pushes me off the couch.

"Get ready for bed and I'll think about it."

I do, and when I crawl into the bed, he tucks me in, has me turn on the flashlight, and turns off the light. He sits on the edge of the bed, his weight warm and heavy against my hip. He does tell me a story, I'm pretty sure its the most boring one he could think of. About how he took notes on a lecture about photosynthesis. I fall asleep to his dull tone explaining the purpose of chloroplast, chlorophyll, and a random assortment of letters.