The next morning I wake in pain.
My ankle throbs, it hurts to swallow, my muscles ache, and my wrist is tender to the touch. I groan as I sit up, grimacing at my now swollen ankle and wrist. I probably shouldn't have stomped yesterday. I try not to think about it, try not to think about the assortment of horrible thoughts that crowd in my mind from the last three days.
Sensei on his knees, blood dripping between his fingers.
The man screaming in the corner, his eye bursting against my thumb.
The long, thick appendage wrapped around my neck, constricting tighter.
I find pain killers, a glass of water, and granola on my nightstand. The note on top, written in Sensei's neat scrawl, is short as ever.
Eat the bar and take the medicine when you wake up. Stay off your ankle.
I do as he says, chewing the dry bar and swallowing the bitter pills. I drain my water and hobble to the bathroom, careful not to put weight on my ankle and to lean against the wall. It doesn't make anything hurt any less. And by the time I clamber back into my bed, all I can do is cry.
No wonder it chose you. It always finds the pathetic ones, the unloved wretches that no one will miss.
And how would he know anything about that?
I care or I wouldn't bother to scold you.
I fall asleep in pain, my head thumping in time with my heart.
.
.
.
Sensei wakes me again around noon. He fixes lunch, has me change into exercise clothes, and hands me a cane. The entire process takes twice as long as it probably should—changing is a nightmare, eating is difficult, and I can't even tie my shoe without assistance. It's humiliating, especially when Sensei ends up doing it for me, kneeling at my feet and putting on my shoes. Like I'm some sort of baby. The walk to U.A. is long as well. Walking with a cane is hard. And when we finally do get there, Recovery girl is less than pleased.
"Child, what on earth possessed you to wander off with a stranger?" she huffs as she shuffles me to a bed, taking my cane and thrusting it into Sensei's arms. I grimace, look to my guardian, and he raises an eyebrow. The old woman glowers as she unwraps the thick bandages, knuckles popping against my thigh. "Don't go looking at him for answers. You're the one that did it!"
I don't know what to say.
She tuts, and when I don't answer, she stretches out her lips to kiss my cheek.
Healing is such a weird feeling. Recovery girl's version is so different from the hospital too. With her, I can feel my body realigning, I can feel the pain ebb away, and when she's done, it leaves me empty. I swallow as a weariness settles into my bones. I relax into the stiff sheets, eyes dipping closed as her rough fingers pat against my cheek.
"You, my dear, are going to give you guardian gray hair."
I blink tiredly up.
My brain feels like it's been stuffed full of floss.
"Huh? Gray?"
Sensei snorts from his place on the wall and I lick my teeth. They feel funny. I wrinkle my nose and do it again. They're so smooth.
"Why is she acting like that?"
"Loopy?" the old woman asks. I giggle at that word, looking at my fingers. There's ten of them. She smirks and pushes them down with soft, weathered hands. She has a really pretty nose. I reach up to touch it and she backs away. "It's a side effect of my quirk and pain medicine. It's quite normal. It'll wear off in less than an hour considering the low dosage. Come keep her company, she'll fall asleep in a few minutes."
Sensei huffs and pushes away from the wall. I smile at him too and he pauses, blinking.
I wonder if he'll let my touch his beard.
"I like your prickles," I tell him with a yawn, patting my cheek. It's unfortunately smooth.
His lips twitch and Recovery girl snickers, walking off.
He sits in the chair beside my bed, leaning forward lazily.
"Do you feel better?" he asks, pushing aside my hair. He's always touching it. Like he does with Miska.
"Yes," I say, or maybe I slur.
Sensei does smile then, the small one I only see at home. His hand keeps moving, keeps petting through my hair, and my eyes feel so heavy. I yawn again and roll onto my side.
"Am I a cat?" I ask. "If I purr would you keep me?"
His smile fades in a long blink.
"I would keep you regardless."
That's nice. I capture his hand and press it against my cheek, liking the way the rough callouses feel against my face. I nuzzle it happily, pushing his thumb against my eyes and running it across my nose. He makes a noise but doesn't pull away. I drag it down my face like when he's annoyed.
I stop then, staring at his thumb.
It's quite long… I wonder what it tastes like.
I bite down. The hand disappears in a flash.
I pout.
It was chewy.
"I'm hungry."
"Go to sleep."
He sounds so cranky. I close my eyes and smile again.
"Ok."
.
.
.
I don't remember falling asleep, so waking up is weird. Sensei's expression is even weirder. He keeps a rather firm distance between us, much to Recovery Girl's amusement, and he doesn't close it until after the nurse kisses my cheek. I have no idea why.
He doesn't bother to explain it either, instead ushering me to the training fields where we would normally meet Shinsou.
Three hours early.
I wilt under the hot sun, dreading what's coming next.
"Don't drag your feet," he says sternly, depositing a dark canvas bag into the shade and his yellow sleeping bag. I have no idea why he brought that. Sensei never sleeps during training. "Start stretching."
I do.
My muscles feel stiff with a lingering ache that Recovery girl's quirk doesn't quite shake. Sensei joins me a few minutes later, eyes narrowed as I scratch my neck.
"Sir?"
"I don't waste my time."
I blink in confusion. He notices and scowls.
"I… okay?"
"Why are we out here?"
"I… broke the rules?" I mumble, shrinking.
"Incorrect," he says flatly.
"I… Because I was bad?"
"Training is not a form of punishment," he says with thin lips. He continues with a stern look. "It is meant to help you become stronger. It's naturally painful because becoming stronger means tearing up your weaknesses to rebuild yourself. Training your muscles means destroying them. Training your quirk means finding its limits and breaking those things that prevent you from reaching them. Why are we out here?"
"To… To get stronger?" I answer uncomfortably.
He raises an eyebrow.
"Correct. What is my motivation for doing this?" I honestly have no idea. He seems to realize this as he looks at my face. His eyes narrow. "I expect an answer."
I cringe.
"I don't know."
He nods, arms folded across his chest, his capture weapon sloping across his neck.
"I am doing this because I care," he says, and the way he says it brooks no-nonsense. Like he's stating the sky is blue, or there are ants on the ground. And I don't know why, but those simple, callous words hurt. They make my chest ache and my eyes water. I stare and he goes on, either not noticing or not caring about the effect of his words. "We are not out here because you made dumb choices, we are here because the next time you get in a situation like that, I will ensure you do not have to rely on luck to save yourself—Are you crying?"
He sounds so annoyed that I hurriedly swipe at my face and shake my head.
"N-N-No, sir!"
He glowers.
"Rin," he says, and it comes out in a low growl. "I don't waste my time, especially not on hopeless cases. You are not hopeless, but you have never to my knowledge even attempted to reach the limits of your quirk. I want you to answer me honestly, did you go all out during our baseline tests?"
I swallow as his dark eyes pierce.
Slowly, I shake my head.
He breathes deeply and exhales noisily. I cringe, he ignores it.
"For the next ten days we will be here three hours early. You and I will work on your quirk, you will practice your hand to hand combat, and then you will rest. When Shinsou arrives you will work through the obstacle course I have set up, study, or do some other task. Do you have any questions?"
I shake my head again.
"Words," he snaps.
"N-No, sir!" I squeak.
"Good, stand in the middle of the clearing and form your shadows. Do so without pinching or scratching yourself."
I hurriedly rush to do what he says, taking up the center of the clearing. It isn't hard to summon the shadows, not with the way my arms shake and my chest swirls with emotions. Sensei watches, keeping a large amount of distance between us.
"What are you feeling?" he asks, voice short.
"A-Afriad?" I mumble, not sure why he's asking. Not sure what's going on. This isn't anything like the way Kagura and I trained.
"Of?"
His face looks bored. It seems so at odds with his voice and posture.
"I… I don't know."
"That's a problem," he says, and I flinch. The shadows wreathe against my arms, growing and I have to concentrate to keep them in check. "Why do you think you're scared?"
"I-I don't know," I say a little louder, a little less certain.
He scowls.
The shadows twist out of my control and begin sprouting from my back, giant spider legs that stretch out on either side, long and hairy and strong.
"I think you do," he says, and he moves closer.
The spider legs twist again, the ends becoming claws, the legs becoming tentacles. The smell of death rises in the heat, forming a muggy scent that clogs my nose. The tentacles wave threateningly, slamming onto the ground with enough force to rattle my knees. I choke as I try to reign them in, reaching for my flashlight-
"Don't," Sensei says, and he pauses meters away. "These are your fears, Rin. It's your quirk. They obey your will."
It's your quirk, Hellspawn.
The tears spill over unsummoned.
"Th-Th-They don't!" I cry, stumbling back when a tentacle waves dangerously close to Sensei. It twists as it does, switching from a clawed tentacle to a hissing snake. Sensei remains still, watching with sharp black eyes. "S-Sensei, please-"
"Please what?" he says, voice stern as he doesn't look away. "Please let you hide from them? No. Don't touch that flashlight. They are you. Face them or quit. You have no business trying to be a hero if you won't acknowledge them. That's how people killed. That's how you'll get killed."
I choke as the shadows bubble up from my pores, thicker and heavier. They spill out my scars like black puss, twist over my skin like a thousand worms. I can taste them in my mouth, death and freshly over-turned graves. The shadows grow. They circle my feet like a pit, they rise from the ground in a thorned halo, they block out the sun in thick plumes of smoke. I can hear the screams from the beach, can feel the plaster raining against my skin.
Sensei looks at it, takes it in, and looks past it.
He stares at me, eyes still dark, hair flat against his head.
"Answer me Rin. What are you afraid of?"
That you'll leave! That you'll hate me! That I'm worthless! That none of this is real and I'm going to wake up alone!
"I don't know!" I scream, grabbing my hair. "I don't know! I don't know!"
"Then why are you keeping me out?" he snaps, interrupting my tirade. The briars wiggle between us, drawing huge thorns the size of my hand and sharp, fingerless nails. "Why are your mother's nails on these briars?"
"I-"
I cut off as I see them.
Horror and terror and shame rising up again.
In the bag. You have one minute, or she'll kill you.
It's not enough. We can't even cover-
If you weren't so weak, they could get more.
Should have been me.
Hands form from the shadows. Hands that clasp at my arms, huge as they pull me away. Gray suits form between the briars, ghost-like as they circle.
"I'm sorry!" I scream, grabbing my face and falling to my knees—the shadows and grass and dirt digging into them. The nails scratch down my back, painful and sharp like Mama's. I sob and pull at my hair. "I didn't want to hurt them! I didn't mean to- I couldn't- I'm sorry! I'm sorry- I'm-"
Sensei's eyes burn as the shadows disperse, the heat of the sun spilling against me.
Hot. So hot it hurts.
He closes the distance in a few, long strides, and kneels in the grass, one hand moving to my head and the other on my face.
"Did you figure it out?" he asks again, it's the same voice he uses to ask for homework or whether I study.
I sob and grasp for him.
"Y-Yes," I cry through my tears and snot, clutching to his black uniform, clawing at his chest to hide from the darkness that I can never seem to escape. He holds me, one hand pulling me closer even as the other wipes away my tears.
Mama.
I shake as I sink into him, boneless and heavy and sad.
He runs his fingers through my hair, petting it like he always does.
"The only way to master your shadows is to acknowledge the fears that build them," he says calmly, his touch soothing. "The people in your past hurt you, Rin. They've hurt you in ways that should never have been allowed to happen. And right now, those wounds are interfering with your growth. Your quirk is the manifestation of your emotions. Every time those shadows come to you, they do so because you're afraid."
He says nothing for a long moment, letting his words settle, letting his fingers comb away the shakes. When I can breathe without the rattle of tears, he sighs and continues on.
"You don't have to be a hero. You don't have to push yourself like this. You can at any time choose to give this up, you can be anything else and I will support you. But if you choose to keep going, if you are going to pursue this, you will do so with everything you have. This line of work is too dangerous to do anything less. You will face these fears, you will speak them out loud, and we will work together to help you through them. Do you understand?"
I nod, and his fingers drum against my head.
"Rin, words."
"I-I understand."
"What are you afraid of?"
The words stick in my throat. Sensei pulls away, his palm on my forehead, and waits. I close my eyes, wishing this were easier, wishing it didn't hurt, hating him for asking this. I swallow and press into the hand, focusing on the pressure.
"Rin-"
"Mama," I whisper, throat tight and eyes aching. The tears spill down again, the pain so terrible I wish it would end. I want it to end. I just want to scratch my arms to make it stop, to make something bleed. Something beside this empty, welling feeling. "She didn't come. She never came. Why didn't she love me? Why didn't she save me? What's wrong with me? Why didn't she want me? I did it! I hurt them like she wanted! I tried- I-I tried-"
He pulls me back against his chest again, the hot summer sun bearing down, the sounds of wildlife around.
He sighs and waits again.
He waits for the tears to stop, his thumb rough as it clears them away. The prickles of his beard bite against my head, almost painful but comforting. I curl into him and he lets me.
"There is nothing wrong with you," he says, and his voice is low and firm. "Those thoughts are a product of the abuse and neglect you've suffered over the years. People are not perfect, they make mistakes, and your mother has made many. But that isn't your fault. It will never be your fault. Look at me."
I do, blinking past the tears up into dark eyes. They're red, bloody veins creeping across the edges from where he'd had to use his quirk. Deep creases darken the area below. He stares down, his beard scruffy, his hair disheveled, and his lips set into a frown.
"Your fear is based on a fallacy. Her refusal to care has nothing to do with you or your worth. There are people here that care, people here that want you as you are. Nemuri, Hizashi, Shinsou, your classmates… myself."
I sniff and wipe away my tears, nodding.
Sensei sighs and pulls me to my feet.
"Are you ready to continue?"
I physically quake.
He grimaces.
"You can take five minutes to get some water, but afterward we do it again. This is what it will mean to train your quirk Rin. If you can't do this, you need to say so."
My stomach churns.
I swallow the nausea already crawling up my throat.
"I… I can do it."
He watches me closely and nods. I walk away then, returning to the bag he brought and digging out a bottled water. I take a long swig with shaky hands and move to wander the clearing. It's pretty, with thick trees, medium grass, and beautiful wildflowers. I pick the flowers as I walk, trying to distract my mind from the dread now coiling in my chest. I collect daisies, clover, and purple weeds until my hands are full and Sensei calls me back. I deposit them by his bag, returning to the middle of the field.
"Summon your shadows."
It takes a moment, but I do.
The shadows settle lazily against my skin. I can't hide my surprise.
"What's wrong?" Sensei asks immediately, his eyebrows drawn in spite of his bored tone.
"They're calm," I say in awe, showing him. He watches in silence as I push the black tendrils out, as I form them to my will. They become a dragon's claws, an alligator's snapping maw, and then an ocean wave. Sensei raises an eyebrow at that. I blush. "I… I didn't like the Ocean."
His lip twitches into an almost smile.
"Interesting." He looks like he wants to say more, but he stops himself and shakes his head. "Do you want to work on offense or defense?"
I blink.
"I… I get to choose?"
"Yes, Rin. I wouldn't have asked otherwise," he deadpans, expression reverting to its normal, bored state.
"D-Defense?"
"Very well. We're going to spar at half speed. You will focus on forming the shadows into some type of shield before I touch you. Once you get the hang of it, I will increase the speed and strength. Take a stance and tell me when you're ready."
I imagine something square and thick on my arm. The shadows readily form.
"S-Sir?"
"Are you ready?"
I sink into my stance.
"I… Yes."
He attacks.
.
.
.
By the time Shinsou finally appears, I'm sweaty, dirty, and exhausted—both physically and emotionally. I couldn't summon another shadow, light, or fire even if I wanted to. Not that I wanted to. The only thing I wanted to do was sleep... and maybe bathe. Preferably after I slept, because otherwise, I might drown.
I swipe the liquid from my face, feeling the grime smear across my face.
"Shinsou," Sensei greets cordially. I don't even have the energy to be jealous of the fact that he gets a nice greeting.
I stand, wobbling on my feet.
"Hey Sensei-"
He turns to me and cuts off as I collide into him. He's clearly not ready for it. He stumbles backward, arms automatically catching mine, and trips into the grass. I fall with him, flopping bonelessly over him as my head slams against his shoulder. That hurts. He has far too bony shoulders. I groan against his chest, far too tired to bother with a real hug. So I just lay there, arms flung over him, waiting for him to catch his breath with his own capture weapon wrapped around his neck. He looks like a little Sensei except with wild purple hair.
Behind me, Sensei snorts.
I smile at Shinsou's scowl.
"Hi."
"You're disgusting," he says a little breathlessly, wrinkling his nose. "What the hell have you been doing? Get off me."
"Training," I mumble, refusing to move. "No. I missed you."
His ears turn pink.
I smile.
He shoves me off with a growl.
I don't bother getting up, too exhausted to move. I flop onto my back and sigh.
"Rin, go take a nap," Sensei says and he looks far too amused to have been training with me for three hours.
How is he still going?
How does he have this much energy?
Shinsou gives me a weird look and stalks off, face still red. I close my eyes. I think I planned on standing.
I guess I fell asleep.
I wake, far too warm. Whatever I'm laying on is soft, almost plush if incredibly hot. And the comforting scent of Sensei's detergent seems to fill every corner. I slowly open my eyes, moving my arms to swipe away the drool from my chin. Only to realize whatever I'm in is zipped, that I'm half-zipped in. Sitting up, it takes far too long to understand the bright yellow beneath me, and even longer to realize what it is. Sensei's yellow sleeping bag. I don't know that I've ever moved so fast in my life. My eyes widen and I scramble from the thing like it burns.
Which of course, is when Shinsou and Sensei glance my way.
I freeze, body twitching as I'm caught in the act. I all but throw myself on the ground—as far away from the yellow, caterpillar bag as I can.
Shinsou, with hair nearly damp with sweat and dirt and leaves, draws his capture weapon back and completely ignores my scene. Sensei, looking lazy and bored from beneath the shade of the trees, grins that weird smile of his.
How did I even get in there?
"Take a break," Sensei tells Shinsou, shaking his head and nodding towards his satchel. Shinsou shrugs and does, Sensei crooks a finger and calls me over.
Reluctantly, I climb back up. I shuffle my feet, passing Shinsou with a pout, and stop arm's length away, feeling somehow both embarrassed and childish at having been caught in his sleeping bag and idiotic for crying all over him.
My guardian raises an eyebrow and cocks his head.
"What?"
"I… I'm sorry," I mumble looking anywhere but his face. I feel my own heat under his stare. "For crying and everything."
"Don't be ridiculous," he says and his hand squeezes my shoulder. "It's fine. You need to rehydrate, you've been out for a while, and when you finish, you can work on the extra math sheets Cementoss sent you. They're all fractions with the first three worked out for you. They're on a clipboard in the bag."
"Y-Yes, sir."
He lets go and pulls out his phone.
I stare at it for a moment, wondering if he's talking to Yamada-sensei.
The thought makes my heart constrict.
Sensei notices. He lowers the phone and raises an eyebrow.
"Yes?"
"N-Nothing," I mumble, quickly turning away. I can feel his eyes watch me as I leave, but I don't look back. Instead, I grab a water and slump to the ground so close to Shinsou our arms touch. He gives me a sour look and scoots away.
I pout and he scowls, ears pinking.
"Oi, it's hot and I'm sweaty, don't sit so close. That's weird."
"Sorry," I mumble, and I pull my knees to my chest. I rest my head against my knees and smile tiredly at him.
He blinks and looks away, shaking his head.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" he grumbles, draining half his water before putting it down. He wipes his mouth with the back of a dirty hand. "And why haven't you been answering my messages?"
I open my mouth, move it as if to speak, and shut it immediately back.
Then I turn my head and groan into my thighs.
Whatever he was expecting, it clearly wasn't this. He narrows his eyes.
"What? You lost your phone or something?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.
"I… I left it with a scientist on accident," I admit wilting. Shinsou looks even more confused.
"So, can't you just call and have them mail it?"
Sensei, several meters away, snorts. Shinsou glances between him and me with a dirty look.
"Alright, what did you do?" he asks, and I can hear him frown.
"I'm grounded," I admit, not looking.
"Yeah, I know, for wandering off to save some guy from the evil sand. What about it?"
"I did it again?" I whisper.
Shinsou stares, incredulous.
"Are you serious?" he asks, mouth dropping open. "Why?"
"I… It's kind of a long story," I mumble, not looking his way. He makes a weird sound and when I peek at his face, it's squished in annoyance.
"You're ridiculous. If you don't want to talk about it, just say it. I don't care. So you left your phone and you can't get it back for some weird, mysterious reason. Whatever. Are you going to get a new one?"
"I… I don't know," I tell him softly. "I… The scientist was a villain."
Shinsou splutters and hurriedly pulls the water bottle he had just put to his lips away. He gives me a nasty look as he caps the top.
"What?"
"He was the guy I saved on the beach," I tell him abruptly, eyebrows furrowing as I glare down at the ground. I don't look up again as I try to spit the entire horrible, thing out. "He came back later and- and he hid in a bush and he told me he had a good luck quirk that gave people that touched him bad luck. So I had bad luck. And everything kept going wrong because he said if I didn't come with him people would get hurt! And he wanted me to follow him, but I told him no, but when I told him no all these bad things started happening even worse and Sensei—Yamada-sensei I mean, got hurt because I didn't. Shinsou, he was bleeding! He was bleeding all over, and it was my fault because I had the bad luck and- and-"
"Hey! Woah, what?" he interrupts.
I suck in a sudden breath and Shinsou looks nervously between me and where I know Sensei's standing. I glance over and my guardian has put away his phone to scowl back.
I groan.
Not another talk.
I bury my face back in my legs. I don't cry, but something like it sticks in my throat. Shinsou moves then, one hand gingerly sliding across my back. He presses against my shoulder and pulls me in a side hug. It's kind of really gross. He's so hot I can feel the heat radiating out from his skin, my hair sticks to him, and he smells like training. But I don't pull away. And I still manage not to cry.
I'm thankful for that at least.
"Hey, you okay?"
"Yeah," I mumble, turning my head to glance his way. He stares back worriedly. "I thought we weren't sitting close. Are you being weird?"
He scowls and immediately drops his arm.
"Don't even," he says with a pinched face. "Did you just tell me you talked to a guy hidden in a bush? Who does that?"
I flush.
Apparently, me.
"I… I don't know."
"That's beyond suspect. You should have called the police on his ass, weren't you there with Present Mic anyways? Why didn't you get him?"
"I… I was with Midnight. And… And he said no adults," I explain. Shinsou's face darkens.
"And you just did it? Didn't anyone teach you not to talk to strangers? Or follow them to their creepy homes? Especially not weird ones that offer you candy or tell you not to tell your—to tell adults? That's creep rule number one!"
I give him an unbelieving stare.
"The 'Creep rule'? Did you just make that up? And… And that sounds rude," I admit, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "If someone gives you a gift, you're supposed to take it. And why would you not talk to strangers? Isn't everyone a stranger before you meet them?"
Shinsou stares back, incredulous.
"You're serious."
I blink.
"I mean… yeah…"
He groans.
"No, I didn't make it up. I can't believe you don't know this! Seriously, don't accept candy from people you've never met-"
"Like the drinks?" I ask, vaguely remembering a conversation Sensei had brought up before. "Because they can drug you?"
Shinsou's eye twitches.
"You know about date rape drugs but not about Stranger Danger, what the hell..."
"Sensei made a big deal about it before I went to the beach," I admit awkwardly. I cringe a little. "He was really mad. I think he's still mad."
"Yeah, I mean you walked off with a villain! What the hell were you thinking?"
"I... That's not what he was mad at," I tell him quietly.
Shinsou's eyes narrow.
"There's more?" he asks, voice lowering to a growl.
I open my mouth to tell him, but Sensei's voice across the clearing cuts me off.
"Shinsou, break's over. Rin, start on the math."
I groan. Shinsou gives me a furrowed look, one I can't identify, and helps me to my feet. He heads towards Sensei and I move towards the bag, digging out the clipboard along with a pencil and a cat-shaped eraser.
I sit on the grass and work.
.
.
.
The math is difficult, but not impossible. I mumble as I work through each problem, checking the top constantly as I try to remember the steps. I work persistently, lip caught between my teeth as I try determinedly prove to Sensei, I can do at least something right.
He doesn't smile when I hand him the clipboard, but he does clap my shoulder and squeeze.
"I'll look over it in a while. We have an hour left, do the obstacle course and time yourself. Timer's in the bag. Your goal is to complete it in less than ten minutes. No quirks."
"Yes, sir," I mumble, and he returns to Shinsou.
I do what I'm told and follow a path lined in neon yellow flags. I time myself as soon as I start, quickly taking off. I can tell immediately that Cementoss-sensei had a hand in this. A giant cement wall blocks the way made with loose handholds scattered across the surface. A long row of tires is next, followed by a rope strung above my head with a sign attached not to touch the ground. A series of stumps spread past that followed by a long stretch of uneven ground.
It takes me ten minutes alone to scale the wall and nearly thirty to make it across the entire thing. My second attempt isn't any better. Part of me wants to try again, to prove that I'm not useless, that he's not wasting his time.
I don't, reluctant to get in trouble again.
I meet Sensei back in the clearing where Shinsou looks tired enough to pass out. My guardian sends Shinsou on ahead with a short reminder to text him when he arrives. Then, he gathers up the satchel and sleeping bag and we start the long walk home. It's a quiet walk. Sensei doesn't look at me and I don't ask him any questions. Still, as soon as we arrive, he has me shower and change. It feels so much better to be clean.
He was mad. I think he's still mad.
I fix dinner while Sensei showers. I defrost the salmon in the freezer, start up the rice cooker, and sauté his favorite vegetables. Part of me wonders if it'll help. By the time he returns, dressed in his dark clothes with his damp hair pulled back, the kitchen is full of the rich smells of seasoning.
He frowns as he pulls down two plates.
"I would have cooked."
I frown.
Did he want to?
"I... I'm sorry."
"For what?" he asks, setting the dishes by the stove and collecting the glasses next. He fills them with water and sets the table.
"I… I was trying to be good."
Sensei rolls his eyes and pushes me from the kitchen.
"It's fine. Go sit down. You didn't have to cook. I would have done it."
I don't know what that means. I take a seat and he plates the food before bringing it over. He sets one in front of me, puts his own food down, and sits in his chair. He doesn't look any happier. I swallow and look down.
"What now?" he asks with a sigh.
I pout.
"Nothing."
"Then why aren't you eating?"
"I didn't make you happy."
Sensei makes a strangled noise and pinches his nose. I cringe.
"Eat your food, we'll discuss it later."
I do. Feeling embarrassed and idiotic, I eat as quickly as I can. I stuff my cheeks too full, half-chew, and swallow it all whole. Sensei's eye twitches when I nearly choke on the rice and rapidly drain down my water. I stand and wash my plate before he's even tried his fish, ready to escape.
He scowls. Then, he moves my chair. He pulls it directly beside his own and glowers.
"Sit down."
I do. It's the weirdest thing I can remember to date. He makes me sit beside him in the chair as he eats, close enough I can feel his elbow move and smell the soap on his skin. I pull at my fingers with no idea what I'm supposed to be doing and feeling like a fool.
"Umm… sir?"
"Yes?"
"Wh-Why are we sitting like this?"
"You just inhaled your dinner," he says in a tone that tells me exactly what he thinks of that. "I'm checking for signs of zombie possession."
It takes me far too long to realize he's joking.
I stare at him in horror.
He snorts and eats a bite of fish, raising an eyebrow.
"I… That's not funny!"
He seems to disagree. His lips twitch and I scowl, scooting my chair further away so we're not so close. He lets me, drinking his water and ignoring my antics. I flush in embarrassment and look away.
"I didn't want you to be angry," I grumble, pouting as I stare at the floor.
"By choking on your food?" he says dryly.
"No!" I wrinkle my nose at him. "I made dinner!"
"It's very good. Thank you, Rin."
I feel an overwhelming urge to shove him out of his seat. It feels completely at odds with the sudden warmth in my chest. I cross my arms, conflicted, and huff. Sensei ignores me. He takes his time to finish his food, moving at such a slow pace I'm left wiggling in my seat. And when he takes his last bite, I take the plate for him, anything to get up and move. He catches me at the sink and takes it back, washing it himself and instead, sending me to the living room.
I groan at the thought of more talks.
"Sensei, I don't wanna!" I whine, flopping down. I shove Miska to Sensei's side much to the kitten's annoyance. I roll over not caring. "We've talked all day!"
"And what do you want to do?" he asks after he dries his hands and joins me. Unlike normal, he doesn't sit on the couch; he takes up a spot on the floor.
I blink.
"I don't know."
He chuckles. I wonder if maybe I hit my head in the obstacle course and this is some sort of weird fever dream.
"Rin, we're not going to talk. We're playing a game."
"We… we are? Is this a talking game?"
He gives me a look before pulling a deck of cards from his pocket. He immediately begins shuffling. I crawl off the couch amazed.
"Are you playing? Adults don't play games."
"I said 'we,' didn't I? And adults do play games. You can thank Principal Nezu. He wanted an update on you and determined you required more fun activities. The game is called Uno, do you know how to play?"
I don't. He explains the rules and deals the cards. It doesn't take long for me to lose.
"How did you do that?"
He smirks, collects all the cards, and shuffles again.
"Strategy and logic," he says shrugging. He deals again and despite having a really awesome hand, I still somehow lose.
"You're cheating," I accuse, dropping them in disgust. They scatter across the rug and Sensei snorts as he gathers them up.
"I'm not," he says, stuffing them into the deck at seeming random. He shuffles the cards under my watchful eye and when I glance at his face, he gives me a stern expression. "Don't be a sore loser. This is supposed to be fun. If you can't handle it we're done."
"No!" I glare and he deals again. When he finishes, I look at my horrible hand and glower. When he starts with a draw-four, I toss the cards on the floor and lunge. He catches me, arms moving to grab my head before it slams into his knee and his cards dropping to the floor. I take the opportunity to flip them over.
"Rin!"
They're just as bad as my own.
I scowl.
"Are you cheating?" he asks, pushing me away. I roll over the deck and scattering the cards beneath me.
"No!"
He crosses his arms and I glare. Without really thinking about it, I climb back into his lap, pulling his arms away to check his sleeves. I'd seen Kagura hide cards there before when she played poker. There and in her chest. When I pat Sensei's chest, he seems to have enough.
"What are you doing?" he growls, catching my wrists.
"How did you do that? Are they in your shirt?"
"I just told you-"
I ignore him and pat the pocket of his pants. Nothing.
"Rin!" he snaps, his voice taking on an edge. "Sit down. I'm not cheating."
I check his socks and pants legs too, just to be sure.
Apparently, that's the end of his patience. He doesn't even grunt as he picks me up and tosses me up, onto the couch. Miska, relaxing in the cat tower, lets out a yowl.
"You're done," he says with a scowl. "Stay."
I cross my arms and pout. He studiously ignores me, picking up the cards spread across the floor and collecting them with a rubber band. When he finishes, he drops them back in his pockets and takes a seat on his end.
"You're in time out for ten minutes," he says, lips thin.
"I… For what?"
He gives me a dark look.
"If you don't want to play you say so, you don't climb on top of people and check them for cards. It's disrespectful. You also don't check their pants and socks. That's an invasion of their space."
I turn my head and refuse to look at him. He huffs, pulls out his phone, and starts a timer. Then he gets up and leaves and I'm stuck sitting on the couch bored and annoyed with literally nothing to do but pick at the seams. The time almost seems to drag on. I close my eyes, hoping the time will end sooner, and doze off.
It does. I don't even hear his phone.
"Rin, time's up."
I blink drowsily and pout.
"Do you want a hug?"
I don't even consider it, scowling as I remember what happened.
"No."
He raises an eyebrow.
"Very well. Do you understand why you got that timeout?"
"Yes."
"Explain it."
"Because you're mean," I snap moodily.
His lip twitches before he smooths it all away.
"Probably," he says, and I can still hear his amusement. "Your timeout has nothing to do with my actions though. What did you do?"
"I checked you for cards," I grumble.
"Was that appropriate?"
"No," I growl looking away.
"If you were getting frustrated by the game, what should you have done?"
"Quit," I answer annoyed that he's treating me like a kid.
"Correct. Now go get ready for bed. You have an essay to work on in the morning."
I wrinkle my nose and clamber off the couch. I don't give him a hug, refusing to even look at him as I get ready. Instead, I change quickly, brush my teeth, and braid back my hair. When I finish, my annoyance fades and I wonder, dumbly, what I was thinking.
Why are you so bad?
What if he decides your too much work?
I linger in my pajamas against the doorway as Sensei washes the dishes, hoping that I haven't broken something else. He rinses out the sink, dries his hands, and pauses when he catches my stare.
I duck away and climb into bed.
I nearly sigh in relief when, like usual, he follows soon after.
"Rin?"
"I want a hug," I say just a little too loudly, my face burning as I look away. He huffs, lips curling up as he sits against the bed. Then, remembering my manners, I offer up a soft, "please?"
"That's fine."
He stays still and I wrap my arms around his neck, squirming my face into his chest and trying my best to curl as close as I can. He doesn't move. His hand rises like it always does, one against my back and another against my head.
"Thank you, Sensei," I whisper in his arms, the stubble on his chin prickling against my head and the steady thrum of his heart against my ear. He sighs.
"For what?"
For keeping me.
I don't say it. He doesn't ask again.
He tucks me beneath the sheets, turns on my flashlight, and turns off the lights.