Midoriya eventually changes his stance.
Of course, he only does it after I furiously tell him to. He blinks in shock, looking completely unnerved, when I march over and shove him to the side. He loses his balance and I glare.
"Your legs are too wide," I growl. "Will you fix it already?"
He gapes.
And when I glower, he shuts his mouth and quickly stumbles back to his feet.
"Wh-What do you mean?" he asks, moving back into the form. "Th-This is how All Might fights!"
Of course, it is.
I don't bother to hide my disgust, and when he flinches, I pause.
Did I hurt him?
I shake away the thought. I don't care.
"You're unbalanced," I tell him, sucking in a deep breath. It was one of the phrases Yamada-sensei used to tell me. My hand moves to my hair automatically, and I nearly undo it to braid it back. I don't. "Put your legs closer."
He does, but not enough.
I grab his shoulder and hook my foot around his leg. My bare leg presses against his, and I can feel the rough bristle of hairs there as I push it in and forward. Then, using his shoulders to adjust his weight distribution, I thrust his chest back, so he leans a little less forward.
He flushes and stammers and I let go.
"It feels too close, but you're steadier."
I shove his shoulder again for emphasis, and this time he doesn't stumble. His eyes widen and when I move away, he makes a few experimental punches.
He's overextending.
Shinsou used to do it all the time, Sensei had to all but beat it out of him.
He pulls his punches too far back too.
It's not my problem.
I wrinkle my nose and glare at Sensei. Isn't he supposed to fix these things? He doesn't look my way, too busy talking to Tokoyami who had left his cave of screams. Sensei pats his shoulder and offer him some water. I bristle at the touch, angry and disgusted and-
I turn back to Midoriya and settle into my stance, annoyed by just how quickly he learns. So much faster than you did.
I hate that too.
.
.
.
We train all morning. Sensei sends me from partner to partner. I'm not allowed to touch my quirk with any of them, much to my frustration. As for him, I refuse to talk to Sensei any time he comes by. Luckily, he doesn't do it often. He gives me instructions. I stand at a distance, staring at my feet, and nod in response. When he demands a 'use your words' my answers are clipped and short.
His face, when I do bother to look, is a mask of frustration.
I don't particularly care.
Then we have lunch.
Sensei sets out what looks like leftovers on a table and directs everyone to make their own bowl. I do so unwillingly, annoyed at the way everyone presses so close and the thick smell of sweat and smoke and boy. When Class 1B joins us, the stench is nearly unbearable. I grab my bowl, add the rice and meat, and make my way to the furthest reaches of the clearing. Vlad, I hear, claps Sensei on the back, asking loudly what's wrong.
I ignore them.
Near the tree-line, in the noon shadows, I sit down in the itchy grass and eat. When I finish, I put my bowl to the side, close my eyes and groan. I rest my head on my knees and try to bury the horrid tears that threaten to claw up my throat again.
I miss home, I think sullenly.
I miss hugs and kisses and Miska and Shinsou, and it's like being at the beach but so much worse, because at least then I had Yamada-sensei to hug me and Sensei won't and- and-
I cut that thought off.
I don't care.
Footsteps shift across the grass and I twitch at the sound of clothes rustling.
I swallow, hoping they move on.
They don't.
"Hey Kitten, can we talk?"
My eyes snap open at once, and my simmering ire escalates into anger. I scowl.
This is all your fault, I think snidely.
"No."
Mandalay sighs and squats, smoothing out her skirt with large, gloved paws and looking upset. Her tail twitches behind her burgundy skirt, her lip pouting.
"I can't read your mind right now," she offers, I don't know why. I'm not listening. "I have to actually activate my quirk for that-"
"I don't want to talk to you," I sneer. I grind my teeth and glare. "Go away."
She hesitates briefly, paws clenching and unclenching in her lap.
I wonder if she's going to argue. I almost want her to.
If she hits me, I'll break her hand, I promise nastily. I'll bite her and scratch her face.
"Alright," she says softly, dejectedly.
I glare as she stands.
Guilt twists with the anger, bitter and stabbing in a way that scratches at my insides. I hate her. I hate him. I hate that I'm mad, that she got me in trouble, that nobody cares. I watch her walk off and glare and put my head down and cry. The silent tears leak down my face and I don't look up, even as the chatter from the clearing swells as everyone finishes their food.
I don't look up when movement rustles again.
If she's back again I'll punch her.
I nearly snarl when I hear the sound of someone sitting down.
"Just leave me-" I growl and cut off when Kirishima grins back. I falter and stare and then grimace with a sigh. I shove my face back against my legs. "What do you want?"
"Nothin'!" he says happily, grinning widely back. "I just thought I'd sit over here by you. That okay?"
I lean against my legs and frown at him.
"I don't care."
"Awesome!" he cheers, leaning back on both arms. "So you and Sensei fighting?"
My lip curls and I glare. His hands rise defensively in surrender.
"Hey! My bad! Sore subject, got it! Was just curious since you both seem kind of upset, so you know, if you wanna talk about it I'm just offering to listen, yeah?"
When my eyes narrow, he smiles disarmingly and puts his hands down.
"New subject, got it! Dude, your fighting skills are amazing! I saw you giving Midoriya suggestions, you got any for me? Like, the way you just slammed him into the dirt, was wicked awesome! It's crazy how good you are! You must train all the time!"
I frown and say nothing, and he seems content with continuing this one-sided conversation alone.
"I liked that move you used on me, where you did that roll thing and, Ojiro-kun called it grappling. He does it too with his tail sometimes. Where did you learn that? Did Sensei teach-"
He cuts off when I cough.
A moment later, his face turns pink when the tears I'd been trying to hold in suddenly choke me and I shake and cry into my knees.
"Hey, uh… R-R-Rin-chan? Are… Are you- are you okay?"
I snarl and close my eyes, furious and embarrassed and so freaking frustrated. Why am I always crying? Why is this always happening? I don't even care. I hate this! I hate it, I hate it, I hate it!
"Oh, uh, did I… did I say something? I'm sorry! I didn't- Awe man, I didn't mean to make you-"
"Shut up," I growl, shoving my face further into my legs until my nose aches from the pressure. "I'm not crying."
He quiets and there's an awkward silence. I grit my teeth and sniffle, furious that this is happening and embarrassed that it's happening now, and why am I always like this? Nobody else does this!
"You… You want a hug?" he asks nervously. "I mean… your, uh, your friend, Shinsou right? He uh, you seemed to-"
I can't stand the way he stumbles over his words.
I can't stand the way my chest aches, the way my throat hurts, and I just want- I just want-
I want Sensei.
"Y-Yes," I whisper, unfolding and suddenly moving into his side. He squeaks as I shove against him, twisting my face into his shirt and pressing nearly the entirety of my side against his.
Shinsou's voice whispers in my head.
Hoki, there is such a thing as personal space. You're making him uncomfortable.
I don't care.
I twist and grip his shirt and breathe.
His arm wraps awkwardly around my back and he seems to struggle with where to put it and what to do with it and it rests on my shoulder, and then my back, and then pats my shoulder again before moving to the side. I ignore it, sucking in a breath again and again until I feel nearly light-headed and the low thrum of panic slows. He smells weird. Like grass and training and leftover food.
He makes another weird noise, and this time I do look up, scrubbing the tears from my face with annoyance.
He's a blistering red, nearly the same color as his hair, and in his tank top, I can see how it extends down his neck and all the way across his chest. My lip quivers, my chest aches, and I push my face back against the side of his shirt, pressing my nose into the muscles of his chest as the tears fall again.
He's not really good at this.
"Are… Are you okay?" he asks, his voice a little higher than it was before.
I exhale against the side of his chest, and he shivers.
"No."
He doesn't seem to know what to do with that answer. Shinsou would have grumbled and pried, Sensei would have pet my hair and- I cut that thought off.
I don't want to think about what he would do.
"Is… I mean, do you want to talk about it now?" he asks. "Cause, um, Sensei's kind of staring at us and I-"
I pull away and frown. Furrowing my eyebrows, I look across the field and Sensei is staring at us. His lips are curled downward, his expression annoyed, and Vlad stands next to him grinning. I shoot him a nasty expression and, even from a distance, I can see his eye tick.
I glare.
"He's being mean," I growl. "Mean and stupid and annoying."
"Oh, well, I mean, I could see that," Kirishima says, and he discretely scoots to make space between us. I glower at him as well. He stares helplessly back. "Oh man, this is not going as planned. Rin-chan, I didn't do it!"
"Then maybe you should leave," I snap shoving my hands through my hair.
He flinches and opens his mouth and then sighs and rubs his face.
At the commotion, Tsuyu, several meters away and sprawled out on a large blanket, turns, blinks, and frowns. Then, without any sort of hesitance, the frog girl stands, stretches, and just randomly comes over. I feel my eyes water again.
Today sucks.
What does she want?
Why can't they just leave me alone?
Her frown deepens and she takes the spot on my other side.
"Rin-chan," she says, pressing a finger to her lip, "you're being mean."
I flinch and cringe and beside me, I see Kirishima make a weird face.
"Ah, Tsuyu-chan, you didn't have to say that, it was fine-"
"No it isn't," the frog girl says. "Ribbit."
Guilt swirls to the surface again and shame wraps around my chest.
You really can't do anything right, can you? You can't train your quirk, you can't act like a student, and now you can't even be nice. Who are you trying to kid?
You're a villain.
I sob.
Large fingers reach out and, unlike Kirishima's, they pat my back in a comforting way. I lean into them, surprised at the calmness that sweeps over me.
"Sensei's coming over," Tsuyu says. "I think he worried, ribbit. He's been watching you all day."
I choke and don't try to look up, crossing my arms over my face and legs. I take deep breaths, not wanting to panic in front of my classmates, but with my legs squeezed together, everything tastes stale and hot. Tsuyu's hand doesn't stop.
Then I hear Sensei's footsteps.
"Kirishima, Tsuyu, leave us," Sensei's baritone commands. Kirishima is up and running in seconds, and now, what was so funny before suddenly isn't when he's abandoning me to my fate. Coward.
Tsuyu, however, doesn't immediately stand.
"She's really upset Sensei," the girl states, and I peek over my arms to watch in surprise as her large eyes blink up fearlessly. Her hand doesn't stop and she presses a little more firmly. "Whoever hurt Rin-chan, they can't do it again, can they?"
I stiffen, my throat closing, and I stare, paralyzed as my breath fails.
Wh-What?
"No," Sensei says, and there's a finality in his voice that makes my body tremble. "I need to speak with my ward now, Tsuyu. Thank you for your help."
The frog girl pulls away her arm and smiles.
"Yes, sir. Feel better Rin-chan."
Sensei waits for her to step away before his dark eyes turn to me.
"Stand up, we need to talk."
.
.
.
I follow Sensei reluctantly back towards the camp building. He walks ahead of me, and I shuffle behind him, wiping at my face and sniffling. Tsuyu's words whisper over and over in my head.
Whoever hurt Rin-chan, they can't do it again, can they?
Why had she asked that? Didn't she just call me mean?
Whoever hurt Rin-chan, they can't do it again, can they?
Why was she… How did she…
Why?
My mind swirls with the questions, and I nearly don't notice when Sensei stops at a bench. However, when he sits and gestures towards the other end, I remember rather quickly that I'm mad.
Like a child…
I clench my jaw and deliberate. I nearly refuse, but at the determined glint in his eyes, I ultimately do as I'm told. I sit, cross my arms, and look away.
Sensei sighs and I curl into my legs, hands fisting at my sides.
I hate it when he does that.
He's so rude.
"Rin."
I don't look at him, glaring angrily at the forest, and he makes a low noise of disapproval. It chafes.
"What?" I snap.
"We need to talk."
I don't care. I don't care about anything he has to say. I don't want to talk to him. I don't want to have anything to do with him! I hate him! I hate him!
I hate him!
I say nothing and wrinkle my nose.
In the corner of my eye, I see him run a hand through his hair, seeming to deliberate.
"I owe you an apology."
This time I do look, eyes narrowed and cutting to his face. He looks tired. I hate it. I hate the way he slouches forward, the way he leans against his knuckle, and the way he scratches at the overgrown scruff on his chin.
He needs to shave.
When I still don't say anything, he continues.
"I should not have been so short with you earlier. You were hurt and attempting to explain why. It was illogical to expect you to be able to do so efficiently when overwhelmed and I should have planned better."
I frown at him, eyebrows furrowing.
"I wasn't hurt. I was angry."
He blinks and his lips thin.
"Because of Mandalay?" he asks. My lips purse and I glare.
"No, because of you," I snarl. "You yelled at me and it wasn't my fault. I was doing what you said, and she kept stopping me. Over and over and over! It's always my fault! And I- I- I know you don't really care, so- so just go away and- and stop pretending!"
His shoulders sag and he leans forward to push back his hair.
"Rin, I am not pretending-"
"You are!" I shout, interrupting him. I turn away and dig my fingers into my arms, furious at the tremble rising up in them. "You are…"
When his hand presses against my shoulder, I shrug it off angrily.
"Just leave me alone!"
He doesn't attempt to touch me again.
In fact, I can hear him shifting behind me and I wonder if he's leaving. It wouldn't surprise me. He never really cared to begin with.
Why else would someone take in someone else's child? You call him teacher; my money is the man took you in out of guilt.
The tears leak over again, and I glare at the forest, wishing I could burn it all to the ground. I hate this camp. I hate my quirk. I hate everything!
I wish I'd never come here.
I wish I'd never tried to be a hero.
I wish Asp would have just killed me.
At least then it wouldn't hurt.
"I did not expect you to have such an intense reaction to Mandalay's quirk," Sensei says, and I flinch, realizing he's still there. His voice is quiet, almost monotone. As if he's thinking aloud and not speaking to me at all. I wipe at my face angrily. "However, I also did not expect to learn you were actively meditating on your past traumas in order to strengthen your shadows."
I grind my teeth and say nothing.
He doesn't seem to mind.
"I was under the impression that when you drew on your quirk, it was magnifying what you were already feeling. But that isn't the case. What you're doing in your head is the mental equivalent of cutting and scratching yourself to summon your quirk."
I turn then.
"No, it isn't!"
His eyes droop, his lips tighten, and his overgrown scruff twitches in the breeze. His dark black hair moves restlessly about his shoulders as he stares back, eyebrow raised.
"Explain it then," he says flatly.
I open my mouth and then snap it shut in frustration.
I bar my teeth, angrily.
"I don't want to talk to you! I don't want to tell you anything! You don't care and I- I-" I cut off and glare. His expression remains unmoved. "I don't need your pity!"
"Pity," he repeats, eyes narrowing. "I do not pity you. I do not keep things out of pity, much less teenage girls. That manipulative scientist was wrong and continues to be wrong. I find your courage admirable and your stubbornness both frustrating and remarkable given the circumstances. In a position where you are offered the choice to do anything, be anything, you choose, continuously and instinctively, to protect and help others. That isn't pity, Rin, it's respect. Now explain why what you're doing isn't self-inflicted emotional abuse."
I flinch at that word.
I hate it.
"I'm not abused!" I snarl.
He blinks, startled, and I hate it. I hate him.
"What?" he asks slowly, eyebrows furrowing.
"I'm not abused! You were wrong! You were wrong and they loved me! It wasn't their fault! You're a liar and they wouldn't- they didn't- you don't know anything! You don't know them! My parents loved me! I don't need you- I don't need you or- or- or-"
Sensei reaches out, and this time I don't shake his hand.
I fold forward, and he pulls me towards him, pulls me into his side that isn't Kirishima or Tsuyu and it finally- finally feels right, and I hate it because it shouldn't. He's not my Dad! He's not! He's not! He's not!
But he lets me pull on his uniform and force my face into his chest and sob in his shirt.
And I hate it because he shouldn't.
He's not supposed to care! He's not supposed to hold me or run his fingers through my hair or smell so comforting.
Why didn't they want me?
Why didn't they save me?
Why?
Why?
He holds me anyway. And I cry because it's not fair. And because I wish he'd never let go.
.
.
.
When the tears finally dry up, Sensei sighs and glances over my head back to the woods. He doesn't let go though. Instead, his fingers work through my loose, unwound hair, and he seems to ponder something rather seriously.
"Rin," he says quietly, his voice more drawn then I've ever heard it. "It's time to go back. But I need to speak with you before we do."
I shiver, and his hands stills, for just a second, against my head.
When I say nothing he sighs softly and resumes the motion.
"I need words."
"Fine," I whisper, my forehead leaning against him and my fingers still curled in the soft fabric of his clothes.
He lets out a soft huff of amusement.
But, when he speaks, there is no trace of it in his voice.
"Training is not about hurting yourself. It's about finding your weaknesses and overcoming them. The side effect is usually pain, but it's supposed to be temporary. It's not supposed to be permanent or debilitating. That isn't training, that's getting hurt. And while Recovery girl can usually heal accidents, as the adults, we're expected to provide measures so it doesn't happen. I do not ask my students to work to the point of broken bones or sprained ankles, it's reckless, foolish, and completely illogical. We have spoken about this before, but you will not hurt yourself. This morning, I was made aware of exactly how pervasive those negative thoughts were, and I cannot allow it—will not allow it to continue."
He pauses and I stiffen, not liking the serious manner that he's staring down at me.
"Rin, until we can find the appropriate measure to keep you safe, you are not to train with your quirk."
I flinch and shove away, teeth grinding closed.
"Wh-What?" I ask, the peace of the moment shattered.
Sensei grimaces, but he doesn't take it back.
I stare back, horrified and betrayed.
"You… You… what?" I repeat again, something deep and dark cracking in my chest.
It hurts.
It hurts so bad I could scream.
"This is not a punishment," he says, and I can only stare in disbelief. He stands from the bench, frowning. "It is not, Rin. You will still participate in the camp in the same way you have most of this morning. You will work on physical attacks and defense, but what you've been doing cannot and will not continue. You are aggravating mental and emotional wounds to strengthen your quirk. I know that Mandalay has attempted to explain this to you. Dwelling on negative memories on purpose is abuse."
My jaw tightens.
I pull myself to my feet, silent.
"Rin-"
"Fine," I whisper, a familiar nothingness settling under my skin.
I don't want to hear this.
I don't want to think.
He scowls and leans forward, hands wrapping around my shoulders and dragging me into his chest.
"It is not fine," he growls, the first sign of true irritation I've seen since he pulled me away. "Nothing about this situation is fine. I promised you I would protect you from abuse, but I am limited in options when you are doing it to yourself."
I blink, blankly at his chest and don't answer.
He makes a frustrated noise and releases me. Eyes hard and face stern.
He shoves his hands in his pockets and walks with me back to our class.
.
.
.
I spend the rest of the afternoon sparring. And, by the time we finish, I feel as worn and drained as I did the last time, I saw Yamada-sensei. I trudge in with the others to find a table loaded down with food, all of it raw and uncooked. I barely hear my classmates complain or the cat women talk, though I do keep half an eye out for the thick Tiger-sensei. He has a rather unsettling skill of appearing out of nowhere to take a swipe at my head.
I'd seen him knock into several students that weren't properly motivated as well.
And he yelled…
I grimace and push past my classmates to the outdoor sink to wash my hands. When I finish, I look, exhaustedly, at the ingredients and the instabox of curry. Disgusting. Yui-san used to use it when she was in a hurry or bad mood or if someone skipped out on chores. It tasted like salt and feet. I wrinkle my nose and grab several pans, moving them to the stove as several students are slowly meandering towards the tables.
And…
And…
"What are you doing?" I snap when Iida picks up a knife and a potato.
He flinches, eyes widening, and nearly drops the knife in shock. My lips thin.
"I… I was going to peel potatoes!" he squawks, arms moving wildly. "It's important as heroes that we all share the workload! As future heroes I-"
"That's a meat knife," I interrupt, too tired not to be annoyed at his rambling. "Use a potato peeler."
I set down the pot, grab a peeler, and shove it into his hand. He blinks, looks at the knife, and quickly abandons it. When he tries to use the wrong end, my eye twitches.
Why is he acting like an idiot?
He isn't dumb. I snatch the peeler and potato out of his hands, flip the peeler over, and scrape it down the side. A thick peel comes off with it. His mouth drops in awe.
I can feel my nostrils flare.
I hand him both and scowl.
"Stop playing around," I say flatly and pick up the pans.
I turn to put them on the outdoor stove Midoriya and Momo are filling with firewood, and twitch when I notice someone from class B fiddling with the box of seasonings. When Kaminari walks by, looking lost, I shove the pot in his hands.
"Go fill these with water and put them in on the stove," I tell him flatly. Then I turn and snag the nasty Instabox from the weird blonde's hands. He scowls and turns.
"Hey! What do you think you're doing?" he growls.
"What do you think you're doing?" I sneer, exhaustion settling in my bones. His face curls in annoyance and I meet his stare evenly.
"Seasoning the meat, obviously," he says attempting to snatch the container from me. I pull it back and he misses. He glares, blue eyes narrowing. "Or do the brilliant 1A students not know how to cook? Tch, spoiled little princess."
My teeth grind.
I slap the box back on the picnic table, not caring if I make a scene.
"This goes in last, moron. Or do you not know how to read?" I sneer, trying to sound like Shinsou. "Don't put it on the meat."
His face turns purple. A hand settles on my shoulder.
I turn to find Sensei raising an eyebrow.
I shrug him off and glower.
"What is wrong with them?" I growl, feeling my jaw tick when I notice two of the class 1B students cutting carrots in lengthwise strips and Kaminari wandering around looking lost. Kirishima is turning the peppers to mush and Mina and several other 1B students are all crying over onions. Only Bakugou, Muscles, and Tsuyu seem interested in doing things right. "They're all acting stupid."
Sensei's lips twitch.
Tokoyami spares me a rather nasty side-eye as he struggles to peel carrots. He's not using enough pressure.
"Rin, your classmates aren't acting stupid, they just don't know how to cook."
I frown, eyebrows furrowed.
"What?" I deadpan. Then how do they eat?
Sensei's fondness is evident even as he stuffs his hands in his pocket.
"Take some deep breaths and-"
"What do you mean they can't cook?" I interrupt. "Why can't they cook? How do they eat?"
He smiles then, that tiny one he usually reserves for home.
I twitch in the face of it, suddenly uncertain.
He never does that in public.
Did I pass out on the field?
"Their parents, generally, feed them," Sensei teases and I pout, crossing my arms and wrinkle my nose. "Not everyone has your experiences, stop being so aggressive and calm down. If not, I'll pull you aside and you'll eat whatever nasty concoction they make without your help."
"It's going to be nasty regardless," I huff, I pick up the instabox and shake it at him. "This is nasty. It's going to taste like feet no matter what we do."
He raises an eyebrow.
"Then ask for what you want," he says blandly. "Mandalay is over there."
He nods towards the cat woman currently laughing hysterically as four different students struggle to light the stoves.
Four of them.
Did nobody know how to use a match?
My eye twitches again.
"I can't," I mutter, turning my head in annoyance. "She doesn't like me."
"Then enjoy feet flavored curry," Sensei says amusedly. "Though I am curious how you know what feet taste like."
"Go away," I growl, putting the nasty box of seasoning back on the table and glaring.
He grins that stupid grin and walks off.
I want to throw it at him.
Tokoyami stares, his half-peeled carrot still in hand and I glower in his direction.
"What?"
He turns back to his carrot, trying to look collected as he attempts to lightly run the edge of the blade over the side. At this rate, we're going to be here forever.
"Press harder," I tell him gesturing towards his tool. I pick up a carrot and in five broad strokes have the entire thing peeled. He gawks.
"You… You are quite proficient at this," he manages. I pick up another one and then put it down when the girl beside me, one with short brown hair curled towards her neck and a quiet disposition, takes it and begins slicing it lengthwise. My jaw twitches and I quickly peel another before grabbing a knife.
"You're going to cut yourself," I tell her flatly. Tokoyami looks over, as do two other class B students and Ochako. I chop three pieces extra slow, as if showing one of the younger children, and then finish it with my normal speed. Their mouths drop. "They all need to be even to cook right. Your way is going to take too much time."
The brunette frowns, looks at her small pile of carrots, and changes to chopping the way I showed her.
She's still incredibly slow.
"How come you know so much about cooking?" Ochako asks tiredly behind a yawn.
I set the knife down and resume peeling carrots. When yet another person comes by to grab the seasoning boxes, I glare. They scurry away quickly.
"You cook or you starve," I answer simply, silently stupefied that I even have to explain this. Yui-san would hate them. All of them. She'd probably stand over them in the kitchen and curse, calling them half-wit morons. If Yui-san found out you couldn't do something, she stuck you on it until you could. Shin had learned that the hard way. He'd been awful at cleaning, had thrown tantrum after tantrum when told he'd be sweeping floors. He'd broken the broom twice, torn up the kitchen multiple times, and after a week of destroyed furniture, Yui-san had gotten so annoyed once she'd pulled him in a separate room and spanked him. Loudly.
He'd stopped after that.
But now he's dead.
I swallow and let the mechanical motion of the action sweep over me.
"Not… Not like really starve though, right?" Ochako asks nervously.
I blink and shrug.
"If you didn't do your chore, you didn't eat until you were done. If you didn't cook, you didn't eat," I say simply. The two class B students stop what they're doing and stare. Tokoyami finishes his second carrot and Ochako's jaw drops.
"That- That's not fair!"
"Your parents don't sound very nice," the brunette beside me says. She takes one of the carrots from my now growing pile and begins chopping. "My parents would send my sister to bed hungry if she was rude, but that's all."
One of the boys snorts.
"Tch, my Dad would beat my ass if I talked back to him."
I nod.
"Yui-san would slap us," I admit. She didn't mind a bit of arguing, Kagura often gave as good as she got, but when she told you to stop you did so. Even Niko would quiet down. There were none of these essays or timeouts. She'd only hit me twice, and both times had been when my shadows had billowed up and I'd lost control. It hadn't happened again after that. I'd seen her hit Niko several times, usually when the girl went into a rage and called her something vicious.
The boy flinches.
"What?" he squawks, face swirling in surprise. "Like in the face?"
I suddenly regret my openness.
I cringe into myself as the dark-haired boy stares. The others are staring too. I don't like it. I don't like the eyes or the surprise or the frowns or the way my stomach twists so suddenly. I stop. Hands shaking, and put down the carrot peeler. Shoving away from the table, I stand. Tokoyami can finish the other half anyways.
"E-Excuse me," I say quietly.
"Rin-chan-"
I don't listen as Ochako calls my name and I make my way, shaking, to Sensei. He's talking to Vlad. He frowns and gestures me closer when I hesitate at the tall, muscled man's presence. The blood hero grins in a way that is probably supposed to be kind.
He just looks gruesome.
"What's wrong?" Sensei asks, exasperated. "It hasn't even been ten minutes."
"T-T-Too many people," I lie. His eyebrows furrow and I know he doesn't believe me. He doesn't push, though.
I'm thankful.
I don't know that I could explain it anyways.
"My students giving you a hard time, Rin-chan?" the large hero asks gruffly. He looks over my head and towards the table menacingly, and I quickly shake my head.
"N-No, sir."
Sensei's hand lifts and falls comfortingly on my head. I lean into the touch, closing my eyes.
I wish we were at home.
"Eraser, will you just hug her already." My eyes pop open at once and I stare in disbelief as Vlad crosses his arms and rolls his eyes. "Girls need hugs, there ain't no shame in it. It's not like the students don't know she's yours anyway."
My mouth falls open.
Sensei scowls.
"Vlad, shut up."
I can't seem to close my mouth as the blood hero laughs, not at all bothered. Sensei turns his dark eyes in my direction and the narrow. My jaw clicks together automatically.
"Rin, go assist your classmates with dinner."
I flush, strangely disappointed, and Sensei removes his hand to rub the bridge of his nose.
I return to the tables with a sigh.
A/N: I LOVE these student interactions. Haha! Anyways, I just wanted to say thank you for all of your amazing reviews! They definitely inspired me to get this chapter out as quickly as possible. :D