Tuesday morning Sensei leaves my essay (plus nearly two pages worth of commentary and corrections) on the kitchen table along with my new topic—What is communication and why is it important? By the time I finish fixing yesterday's paper and writing today's, my hands are cramping, my body aches from yesterday's workout, and I've sworn off ever sleeping again. I haven't even had time to turn on my new phone before it's time for lunch and Sensei's reading through my corrections.

"Well done," the dark-haired man says as he eats his food—leftover rice and stir fry.

I preen under the praise and he moves on to the second essay.

My excitement dims when the red pen begins marking through large swathes of paper.

"Sensei," I groan, wrinkling my nose. "I thought I did good!"

"You didn't do badly," Sensei retorts, not looking up from the paper as he scribbles. "It requires correction because you're missing knowledge, not because the knowledge you're expressing is wrong."

I lean against my elbow and huff.

He does look up then and I give him a sour stare.

"Why can't you ever like the things I do the first time?" I grumble.

He frowns and puts the pen down.

"These essays are all on topics I know you struggle with because they're meant to correct certain mindsets and behaviors. You will usually end up rewriting them because I know your current understanding is either flawed or non-existent."

I scowl.

"So you're making me do it twice just to be mean," I summarize, annoyed. "Thanks."

He sits back and furrows his brows, frowning.

"If ensuring you have a basic understanding of how society works requires me to be mean, then yes, I suppose so."

"A basic… are you calling me stupid?" I glare. "I know how society works!"

"No, I am not. As for your so-called, understanding, your essays would say otherwise. Communication is far more than speaking, it's the nonverbal actions and the manner in which you respond." I grit my teeth and he pauses. "Do you need to go to the couch?"

My mouth opens and shuts angrily.

"No," I growl at him.

Sensei watches me for a long moment before returning to the paper. He continues marking it and I continue eating. When I finish, I go to wash the dish and return to my chair, the same anger and frustration still itching inside.

"Sensei," I interrupt, voice feeling particularly loud in my ears.

He glances my way and I grimace.

I pull my fingers and glare at my hands.

"I… I'm… That makes… I feel… vulnerable."

The silent stretches as my chest itches on the inside. My muscles twitch and I blow out my cheeks, trying to control the uncomfortable sensations.

His pen drops against the table and he sighs.

"Rin, come here."

I do. I scramble out of my chair and towards him. I don't know what he was expecting, but I don't think it was for me to crawl into his lap. He doesn't push me off though, and I like the way his arm wraps around my shoulder. I like how I can lean against his chest, how his hair grazes the top of my head and his warmth seeps through his clothes. I curl against him, closing my eyes as the itch subsides.

He huffs.

"Rin… This is how young children sit, not teenagers…" I pout and he sighs again. "I'm not going to make you move, but this isn't appropriate outside of the house."

"Yamada-sensei lets me," I argue, rubbing my cheek against his soft shirt.

I can almost hear Sensei's frown.

"I will speak with Hizashi," he says lowly. "It's not as big of a deal with him or Nemuri as long as you're in private. But this isn't appropriate in public. Do not do this with strangers, classmates, or even Shinsou. It's inappropriate unless with family. Do you understand?"

I still at that word.

"Fam… Family?" I ask softly.

He says nothing and I lean back to look up at him.

Dark eyes peer back, expression bored as usual.

"Are… Are we family?" I ask even quieter. He blinks twice before his lips curl into a crooked smile.

"Rin, you live in my house and eat the food that I provide. Did you think you were my pet?"

I flush and look away, pressing my face into his chest at his teasing tone. My fingers rise and curl against his shirt.

Family.

Sensei lets out an amused huff when I refuse to answer and instead runs his fingers through my hair. It's nice. He's nice. I relax against him slowly, breathing in his comforting scent even as my cheek presses against the soft, dark material of his shirt. He has the softest shirts.

Family.

"I do not think you are stupid," Sensei says after several moments. "If I thought you couldn't do something, I wouldn't ask it of you. I'm not attempting to be mean either. The essays you write are on topics where your lack of knowledge concerns me, for example, the dangers of strangers. That is a topic most children are taught between five and ten. This should not be the first time someone is telling you not to leave with strangers. That's how children are kidnapped."

I frown at the annoyance in his tone.

"But Sensei… they gray suits are always strangers."

His hand stills in my hair.

"What?" he asks, looking down.

"The people that come to get you, to take you away," I answer. "The ones that took me from Mama and the homes, they're always different. And the homes are always full of strangers. And the schools and the teachers and the classes. They're always strangers."

Sensei sighs and, oddly enough, pulls me closer to him.

"Sensei?"

"Rin, over half the children recovered from trafficking rings are foster care children."

I stiffen.

"Wh-What?"

"I'm not suggesting that every person you meet is going to harm you, but there are people out there that will and do prey on your misconceptions. There are people that would use you, would attempt to hurt you for profit, and would take advantage of you. The illegal fight rings are full of runaways and foster children. The black market thrives on inexperienced, disillusion teens. That said, there is a difference between a stranger on the street and a person assigned to take you to a new home, a new teacher, or even new classmates. But just because there's a difference doesn't mean you should trust everyone you meet the moment you've met them, not heroes or social workers or even teachers. Trust is something you earn, that they need to earn. You ask for identification, you question their motive, and you don't believe everything they say."

I pull away, still on his lap, and stare.

"Everyone?" I ask, wide-eyed. "E-Even you?"

"Were we to meet for the first time, yes." His expression swirls into annoyance. "I hope that wasn't a real question. I'm your guardian."

I giggle and hug his neck.

"Sorry."

"If you're better, I still need to correct this paper."

My smile falters and I nestle into his neck.

"Can… Can I stay?" I whisper nervously. I wiggle closer and close my eyes. "I… I know you don't like it, but…"

I trail off as Sensei sighs, his hand pressing against my shoulder.

"Fine," he grumps, and I smile in relief, feeling my skin brighten with a shallow light. "You have until I finish the corrections. When I'm done, you're going to correct this."

"Yes, sir."

I exhale contentedly as he picks up his pen.

Family…

I… I like that.

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The rest of the week passes quickly—too quickly.

The days all seem to bleed together as the routine repeats, over and over. Get up, breakfast, essay, lunch, fix it, train, train with Shinsou, dinner, and a game. There isn't time to miss my classmates or people, or even to use my new phone—which Sensei tapes the rules to on my bedroom wall. There isn't time to do anything but work and work and work.

It's exhausting.

But unlike before, I can see the results, especially with my quirk, but also with my math and other things.

"Are you over here slacking?" Shinsou grumbles as he drops lazily on my blanket.

"No!" I huff, thrusting the clipboard in his face. He grunts and then snickers when he pulls it away to look at the problems and the mess of work all over the page. Sensei can't stand it, he says I need to be more logical. He'll probably fuss about it when he sees it.

I lean over and grab him a water, wrinkling my nose.

"Hey, they all look right for once. Nice."

I throw the water at his face too.

He catches it and grins.

"Rude," I grumble. I push his shoulder and point to one of the problems at the bottom. "Did I get that one right?"

Shinsou sucks down several quick gulps before capping the bottle and looking at the problem. I probably could have asked Sensei, but Shinsou is just as smart. Especially at math. And if I show Sensei, I'll probably get pulled into the obstacle course. I'm not quite ready for that.

"Yeah, though you could have skipped all this," he says pointing to some of the scribbles towards the side. "That's where you figured it out, right? All you had to do was change it to an improper fraction whatever all that is wasn't really necessary."

I pout and glance at the numbers.

"How do you remember all that?" I ask, rubbing my neck. "You're so smart..."

"I dunno. It's easy for me," he says shrugging. He smirks lazily and leans backward on his arms. "Anyways, you and Sensei have that camp next week, right? So what trouble are you going to get up to this time?"

I scowl.

"I don't get into trouble!"

"You stay in trouble," he scoffs, smirking. "Or are you not still grounded?"

I groan and sprawl out dramatically.

"Don't remind me!" I complain. "I'm so tired of writing essays! Sensei made me read a bunch of articles this morning about underground experimental drugs." I shiver. "He made me write a paragraph about each of them and why they were dangerous."

Shinsou gives me a weird look and raises an eyebrow.

"That's… random," he says flatly.

I swallow and look down.

Oh yeah, he didn't know.

"Not… Not really…"

Shinsou makes a sound and I glance up to see his expression warped into concern.

"What do you mean 'not really'?" he asks lowly. "Is there something you wanna tell me? Since when have you been involved in underground drugs?"

His expression darkens.

"Were you… Did they… Did they drug you at that-"

My eyes widen and I hurriedly cut him off with a noise.

"No! No!" I squeak, crawling onto my knees and shaking my head wildly. My braid slaps against my face in my fervor. He doesn't look reassured. "No! I… I just… I maybe made a mistake and Sensei's still upset because it wasn't a good idea at all, so it really wasn't a maybe at all, and I didn't know how bad it was at the time so I didn't think to not listen, but I know now and-"

Shinsou's eye twitches as I ramble.

"Will you just spit it out?" he grumbles.

I flush and stare at my fingers, pulling them nervously.

"I… I…"

"If you don't want to say it you don't have to," Shinsou huffs, rolling his eyes. "Just say you don't wanna talk about it, jeez."

I feel my skin warm and brighten with a soft, dusty light.

"But I wanna tell you," I admit quietly.

His ears pink and he makes that funny face he does when he's embarrassed.

"Well… fine," he grunts, looking anywhere but at me. His cheeks are reddening too. "Just say it then. Stop mumbling, ugh. It's weird."

I take a steadying breath.

"So… you know how I kind of left with that villain who was in a bush and stuff…"

He scowls.

"Yeah."

"I… Well I kind of touched him and it activated his quirk."

"You touched him…" he says flatly. "You're really gonna drag this out."

I wrinkle my nose at him.

"His quirk was luck, and apparently he gives people bad luck if they touch him. Which meant I had bad luck and it was making bad things happen everywhere!"

"That sounds like an excuse," he says, narrowing his eyes. "The way you're circling around everything makes me think you did something dumb… well, dumber than leaving with a guy in a freakin' bush."

I flush.

He raises an eyebrow.

"Seriously?"

"I… I left Yamada-sensei bleeding on the street to follow him."

Shinsou blinks.

"Well damn, didn't see that coming," he admits, scratching his head. Then he pauses, stiffens, and glares. "Wait a minute! You're the reason he was such a hard ass! Man! You- You- Ugh! I should have known something was up! You're such a pest, my muscles still ache from that shit!"

I lean forward hiding my face against his sweaty shoulder.

"I'm sorry!"

He grunts and pushes me off.

"Oi, get to the point. What does any of this have to do with drugs?"

"I let him drug me!" I squeak, peeking out from between my fingers to look at him.

I've never seen his head snap up so fast.

"You did what?"

I cringe and he drags my hands away from my face, expression furious.

"Oh hell no! You don't get to say shit like that and not explain it! What the hell do you mean you let him drug you? Are you nuts? What if that shit was poison? Man, what if he knocked you out with it? Why the hell would you-"

I've never seen Shinsou rant.

His face flushes as he does, expression changing raptly. He kind of looks like Aizawa-sensei did, except redder. And more expressive.

"Are you listening to me?" he growls, poking my cheek.

"Oh… uh…" my eyes snap back to his face. "Yes!"

He scowls.

"You're a horrible liar," he grumbles. He elbows me over and lays back on the blanket, arms folding behind his head. "Can't believe you… No wonder Sensei was pissed…"

I flush, crossing my arms over my chest, and whine.

Shinsou doesn't even look my way, eyes narrowed up at the trees.

"Let him drug you… of course, you did!"

I pout.

"Don't be mad at me," I whine, leaning forward against his stomach. He scowls when I smile shyly back at him. "I won't do it again. I promise!"

"The hell you won't," he growls, before looking away.

He huffs.

I grin and hug his stomach, pushing my face into his side. He smells like grass and sweat.

He makes a noise and pushes me off.

"Oi! Stop that. That's weird!"

I giggle and do it again.

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By the time Sunday finally arrives, I'm beyond excited. Not only does it mean I get to see my classmates tomorrow for the first time in weeks, but it's also our break day! It means no training, which is probably a good thing because Shinsou looked ready to throttle me. Especially when I licked his face as revenge for his teasing.

Sensei had looked just as disgusted.

So I wake up early and write my essay in record time before slumping on the floor to play with Miska and tease her into falling over.

"Have you packed everything for tomorrow?" Sensei asks, sitting down at the table with a set of papers in hand. He'd caught me packing last night, which was when I'd found Midnight's photo album stashed in one of the zippers in the front—along with a large amount of sand.

"Yes, sir," I answer, smiling. "Do you want to check it?"

"Later," he grunts, not looking over. "Do you want to cook dinner?"

I glow at the offer, skin brightening the entire room.

Abandoning the cat toy and Miska, I hurry excitedly to the table. He does look up when my arms wrap around his neck, likely annoyed by the light spilling off my arms and into his eyes. He tilts his head back frowning.

"Really? I can pick?" I ask, grinning.

He huffs, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, Rin. I wouldn't have offered if not."

I squeal happily, nuzzling his cheek with mine. His beard scratches almost painfully into my skin and I giggle at the sensation. He shakes me off almost immediately, but I catch a glimpse of his smile as I spin around behind him.

"Yes! Yes! Yes!" I dance to the freezer and sort through his large collection of frozen veggies. They're all the same. Why he never buys a variety, I don't know. I check the back to see if there's anything different hidden there, and groan. "Sensei, why do you always eat the same thing? Do you not know how to cook?"

He spares me a rather annoyed glance.

"It has all of the required nutrients. If you want something else, you'll need to ask."

"But we never go to the store! How are there so many of these?" I ask, shaking one of the bags at him. "Do they have babies when we aren't here?"

He snorts.

"I pick them up after patrols."

I make a low "oh" sound and stop shaking the bag. I replace it in the freezer and look at the back of my guardian's head. I try to imagine him skulking around the aisles and glowering at the cashier at two or three in the morning. I grin.

"Can we go to the store? I wanna make something different."

"That's fine, I need to finish this paperwork first. Entertain yourself for a while."

I let out an excited squeal and he gives me another look, eye twitching.

"Quietly."

I ignore his grouchy face and attach myself to his neck, feeling my skin brighten further. Fireflies begin to flicker across my skin and Sensei groans.

"Rin-"

I cut him off with a quick kiss to his cheek.

He makes a choking noise and I do it again.

"What are you-"

"You're the best Sensei ever," I interrupt, hugging him tightly.

He pauses in whatever rebuke he likely intended, and I let go to spin away, feeling the fireflies morph into the kitten ears. By the time I glance back his way, he looks more amused than annoyed. When I flick my kitten ears at him, he smiles. I blush, duck my head, and quickly disappear into my room. Grabbing my phone from the charger, I flop onto the bed to play one of the games Shinsou downloaded for me. It's apparently some matching game.

It's okay.

I play for about ten minutes before a restlessness drags me to my feet and I abandon the phone to wander about. If Sensei notices (of course he does), he ignores me. I linger for a moment in the kitchen, thinking about all the delicious recipes I'm going to make, before going to play with the dollhouse and dolls.

It entertains me for a while…

But I just can't sit still there either.

I want to do something, to move. I consider asking Sensei if he's ever been to the park but think better of it—he might take that as an invitation to train, ugh.

I put away the dolls and wander back into the kitchen before Sensei's dark hair catches my eye. Without really considering what I'm doing, I run my fingers through the strands.

He breathes in deeply and leans his head back, scowling in a way that tells me I probably should have asked.

"Uh… sorry?" I mumble, blushing as I quickly hide my hands. "Can… Can I touch your hair?"

"Rin, I'm about to invent something for you to do."

"I just want to play with it!" I squeak, hoping he doesn't. "Please? Can I braid it? I'm not trying to annoy you, I promise!"

He scowls and sits up.

"Fine."

I open my mouth, prepared to argue further, only to falter.

"I… I can?"

"Quietly," he says, moving a sheet. "If not-"

"Okay!"

I rush to the bathroom, grabbing his brush and several elastics I use to braid my own hair. I pull the hairbands on my wrist and immediately start brushing. His hair is so uneven I can't help but wonder if he cuts it himself or if he just doesn't care and lets it grow how it wants.

It's so soft.

There's no way he doesn't care. It's softer than mine!

I run my fingers through it, abandoning the brush after removing all the tangles to curl my fingers through the strands. It's nothing like mine or even Yamada-sensei's. Yamada-sensei's hair is more like water: thin and silky. Aizawa-sensei's hair curls! It has waves and fluff. It kind of reminds me of Midoriya's, actually. I bet Mina has similar hair too!

I lightly scratch his scalp and giggle quietly when his head automatically leans into the touch.

"Aren't you supposed to be braiding?" Sensei complains, pen moving steadily across some sheet.

"Yes, sir!"

He doesn't look up, but I can hear his huff.

I smile and collect a section. His hair is so weird to braid! Because it's all uneven, it makes horrible, messy braids. I retry it in three different spots, only to have the same problem. So I give up on braiding it and split it into two sections to put each half up in a ponytail.

He looks hilarious in pigtails, especially since he hasn't shaved in a few days and his facial hair is extra-long and scruffy.

He sighs sounding long-suffering.

"Are you done?"

"Are you?" I ask cheekily. He spares me a side-eye.

"Yes," he answers, compiling all of his papers. He stands and I giggle again, looking at his face. He watches me for several seconds as I choke on my laughs, before turning back to the table and placing the paperwork on top.

When he turns around, offering that stupid grin, I squeal and try to run. I'm far too slow. He catches me before I can make it two steps and drags me back into his chest.

"Are you laughing at me?"

I squeal again and splutter, wiggling furiously as I try to free myself. He locks one arm around my stomach, and I try to climb over it to freedom. My skin breaks out in a bright glow again.

"No! No!"

"I think you're lying," he teases.

He runs his fingers over my side. I shriek and thrash, trying breathlessly to get away. I can't and only manage to trap myself completely between his chest and arm. He stops then and I sag bonelessly against him.

"Meanie!"

When his fingers ghost across my side again I squeak.

"I'm sorry!"

"Hmm… " he smirks, not letting go. "I expect you to fix my hair."

I lean back and grin at him.

"Can I take a picture first?"

"No."

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That night, after dinner, Sensei double checks my bag. I smile proudly when he determines it 'acceptable' and zip it all closed. He sets it by the door and waits for me to crawl into the bed. I do so excitedly, wiggling under the covers until he smiles and comes to sit beside me.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm excited," I admit, twisting so I'm on my side. "I miss everyone, I haven't seen them since the mall. What if they forget me! Or... Or what if Shinsou's right? What if I am a trouble magnet? What if something happens? What if there's a villain attack again? What if-"

"Deep breaths," Sensei says, his baritone voice cutting through the chaos.

I do. I suck in several deep breaths and his hand moves against my forehead.

"Your classmates didn't forget about you. They asked about you last week. I'm sure they will be excited to see you." I relax a little as his thumb swipes over my brows and his fingers slide through my hair. "As for the villains. We're taking extra security precautions to make it safer. The likeliness of something happening is slim."

I yawn and rub tiredly at my eyes.

"Oh."

He chuckles lowly.

"I'll remind you again in the morning. But, I will expect you to behave as a student on this trip and not as my ward. You will need to follow directions without argument and contain your hugging tendencies. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

He pats my head and stands.

"Good night Rin."

I yawn again, eyes already drifting close.

"Night Sensei."

A/N: And it's done! Well, this arc, I mean. Haha! Next up, training camp! Sorry, it's a little short, but there really wasn't much to say (I'm looking at you Musiome, I know you like long ones! They'll get longer I promise!). I originally intended to put this in with the last chapter, but I got fed up with that one and just posted it. Anyways, enjoy the fluff, and thank you all for your reviews!