The next day, Sensei carries me to school. I say carry because I only manage to walk down the stairs and halfway down the street before I'm exhausted and dizzy and dry heaving. He scowls, gives me several minutes to gag in the bushes, before he gives up and puts me on his back, wrapping me securely there with his capture weapon. He ignores the strange looks and I close my eyes, too dizzy to care.

"Do not puke on me," he says, and I can't tell if it's a joke or not.

"Yes, sir," I mumble in his hair.

When we arrive at the school, he doesn't let me down, instead going straight to Recovery girl's office. She raises an eyebrow when he carries me in.

"You're late," she laughs, voice crackling.

"She was dizzy," Sensei says flatly. He kneels by a bed and I stumble from him as the fabric loosens and I fall onto the bed. "Her stamina is almost non-existent, she's nauseous, barely responsive, and won't eat. I understand these are normal reactions to grief, but she's lost too much weight."

He stands and turns, eyes narrowed when I curl on the sheets. Recovery Girl makes a tutting noise and meanders into my vision. When her lips stretch out towards my face, I close my eyes, not wanting to watch.

She makes a soft kissing noise and something warm presses against my cheek.

She hums when she lets go and I blink awake to watch her wander away.

"I'll need to put her on a drip," the woman says tutting. I listen as she opens the different drawers. "My quirk won't be much help in this case. It uses the body's energy, and her mitochondrial counts are far too low. How is she sleeping?"

I whimper and he sighs, leaning forward to run his fingers through my hair.

"She's not," he says. "She has nightmares and sleep terrors more often than not."

"Are you in pain?" the old woman asks.

I sniff and nod, pointing to my chest. Her eyes soften at that.

"Feels like it's breaking in a million pieces?" she asks. I nod and she pats my leg. "I figured. I can prescribe some anti-depressants, but it'll take time for them to take effect. Nearly three weeks. It won't fix any of the underlying issues, but it could help."

"And the side effects?" Sensei asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Sweating, diarrhea, tremors, and sometimes skin rashes, nausea, and insomnia. There's a few more but they're rare enough I won't mention them. You should know antidepressants in teens are also linked with suicidal thoughts."

"Because they're already depressed or because the antidepressants exacerbate the issue?" Sensei asks.

"Not enough research to say," the nurse admits, dragging an IV over. "It's a difficult thing to study."

Sensei moves away and she tears open a packet, the strong scent of disinfectant filling the room. She cleans my arm for a moment, and I close my eyes, looking away. Something pinches, there's a sharp sensation, and I sigh in relief at the coolness suddenly running beneath my skin.

"There's also the problem of withdrawal symptoms," Recover Girl says.

She squeezes my hand for a moment before pulling a blanket up.

"And those are?" Sensei asks.

"Dizziness, confusion, insomnia, vertigo, tremors, anxiety, and at times aggressiveness. It's just like coming off any drug, especially if it's used for 6 weeks or more. I'd suggest reducing it over four weeks to wean her off."

"Are you actually recommending this or are you just telling me what's available?" Sensei asks. He sounds annoyed.

"Available," the woman says. "You know Rin-chan better than any of us. The antidepressant is a serotonin reuptake inhibitor, so it would help regulate her emotions and naturally put her in a better mood. It's been used quite frequently to help with depression and anxiety, but it's not perfect. She'll still be heartbroken, just less likely to obsess over it."

"That sounds horrible," Sensei grumbles.

"I'm a nurse, dear, not a miracle worker. You're dealing with a mental health issue and it's having a bio-physical reaction. The depression isn't a result of a natural chemical imbalance, it's a byproduct of ongoing trauma. But you're going to have a hard time working through any of those issues if she doesn't sleep, eat, or function."

Sensei sighs wearily and I crack open my eyes.

"Other options? I'd prefer not to add a suicidal watch to everything."

"Therapy, obviously…"

Recovery girl goes on, but I don't hear her, my body already sinking into the warm sounds of their voices. My eyes close again, and I fall asleep.

.

.

.

Despite the different setting, I still have nightmares.

Aunt Nemuri is there when I do, fingers brushing through my hair and face cast in concern. I cry. All I do is cry.

"Hey baby girl, bad dreams?"

I nod and she leans forward, kissing my face. She'd done it before, at least a dozen times in the past few days. But this time, I can feel the barest brushes of her lips. They're soft.

"You want to talk about it?"

"No," I whisper, and my throat aches. My eyes ache. My chest aches.

Is this what it feels like to shatter?

She will break.

Kaito.

I sob.

"Will you try to eat?" she asks.

"Not hungry."

She sighs and wipes the tears away.

"You want me to talk? Or sleep?"

"Sleep."

She leans forward and instead of vanilla, she smells like something deeper, like snow on the window's ledge. Like frost in a garden. My eyes shut, and for once there are no dreams.

.

.

.

When I wake, Shinsou sits where Midnight did, eyes on his phone, texting. He's bigger than the last time I saw him, his arms thicker, his face darker, and the bags beneath his eyes just as shadowed. I stare for a long moment, eyes caught in the dusty purple strands on his head. Behind him, Sensei's outline shifts behind the glass in Recovery Girl's office.

"Sh-Sh-Shinsou?" I whisper.

The boy jerks as he looks up. Dark, beady eyes fixing on my own. He frowns.

"Hey," he says after a moment. "How are you feeling?"

Like my chest has a gaping hole in it.

Like every happy thing in the world is gone.

Like no matter what I do, it'll never be enough. I'll never be enough.

I don't have the words for those feelings, for the empty silence that seems to beat in time with my heart.

So I say nothing, sinking into my bed.

He stares and waits, and when he realizes nothing is coming, he scowls.

"Did you forget how to speak during camp?" he asks, and his voice is more annoyed than I expect.

Slowly I shake my head.

"Then why are you just staring at me like a weirdo?" he growls, eye twitching. "I asked how you're feeling. If you feel like shit, just say it."

"I… I feel empty," I whisper, and my voice cracks from disuse. He crosses his arms, lips thinning.

"You look empty," he says flatly. "Is there a reason you're not answering my texts?"

"I… No."

"Then stop ignoring me, it's annoying. If you don't want to talk, just say it or type it or send me a puking face, damn. But don't make me have to message Sensei when he's on the news so I can figure out if you're alive or not. It's infuriating."

"S-Sorry-"

"I don't need you to be sorry, I need you to promise not to do it again!" he snaps. "I'm not asking for a book, Rin. But when I call and message you because your class is plastered all over the fucking internet, you could at least send an 'I'm alive' response."

"I… I… O-Okay-"

"None of this is okay," he says, and his voice cracks. He sighs and leans forward, his arms resting on his knee. "You're clearly not okay. But we're friends Rin, and… and you're not alone. I'm here, okay? You don't have to call or whatever, but don't lock me out."

My eyes water and when I reach for his hand, he reaches back. It's warm, almost painfully warm, and his hand is more calloused then I remember, and it's so large-

I don't care. I lean forward and throw my arms around his neck. He lets out a little noise.

I don't care, I clutch at him and cry, burying my face in his neck and leaning over him so I'm half in his lap. I don't care if it's okay or not. I just want a hug.

I missed you.

"He was there," I whisper. "He was there."

Shinsou's shoulders stiffen, his breath stuttering in his throat. His hand presses against my back, light and there in that familiar way it always is. I choke and tighten my grip.

"Asp?"

"My… My brother is Asp," I whisper, feeling those broken edges all the more viciously.

He makes a noise, and then, pulls away.

He stares back, beady eyes narrowing and lips curling in a sneer.

"Then he's not your brother," Shinsou says and it's my turn to stare, eyes widening. "Because brothers don't do that. God, Hoki. Nobody deserves this shit."

"He… He said I did," I tell him.

Shinsou glowers.

"He's wrong," he says and there's so much vehemence in his voice that I can only shiver. "Fuck him, that- that doesn't even make sense! What could you possibly have done to deserve any of this shit? Give him too many damn hugs? What a bunch of bullshit! Are you even listening to how ridiculous that sounds? You had a panic attack when you bloodied my nose and we barely even knew each other! You don't deserve to die just because you're related to a fucking psycho."

He pauses and he scowls dangerously.

"Is that why you're not eating?" he nearly growls. "Are you trying to kill yourself?"

My mouth drops open.

I can't speak.

"N-N-No!"

The look of utter thankfulness on his face is overwhelming.

"Good," he snaps, forcefully. "Because you're important! You're important to me and Sensei and Present Mic and… and…"

He cuts off and stands abruptly, spinning on his heels to face away. I catch sight of his face twisting into a grimace even as his hands curl into a white-knuckled grip.

"Fuck."

He makes a choking sound and doesn't turn around.

"I… I can't do this right now. Look, just… just text or call me, whichever, when you get home. And stop starving yourself. I… I'm gonna go hit something."

And then, without another word, he's walking off, rubbing his arm against his face. He goes to knock on the nurse's office, speaking too low for me to hear, before turning and walking out. Sensei stands in the doorway, watching. His eyes are hooded as the purple-haired boy leaves.

Then he crosses the room and squats by my bed. And when his arm reaches out to touch my face, I'm surprised at the coolness of his fingers.

"Are you still dizzy?" he says, voice low.

"No," I look up and he blinks back when I meet his eye. "Shinsou… is… is he mad at me?"

"No," Sensei says, his lips quirking a little. It's the first partial smile I've seen from him since… He pushes back my hair. "He's concerned. Are you feeling any better?"

"Yes," I answer quietly.

"Good, we can head home. Recovery girl wants to see you again soon."

.

.

.

The walk home isn't as bad as the walk there. It still takes longer than it should, especially when Sensei slows our pace to what feels like a crawl. I'm exhausted far too quickly, but I'm not nauseous and Sensei doesn't have to carry me. He does keep glancing my way continuously though.

When we arrive, I collect my phone and open the messages.

There are so many.

I open the most recent, Tsuyu's, and my mouth dries.

Rin-chan, nobody's heard from you in days. I know you don't like to talk, but everyone's worried. You should at least tell us if you're getting our messages.

My lip trembles and I reread it twice more.

Everyone's worried.

Why?

I move to the next message, clicking it open. It's Toru.

Rin-chan, you're scaring us! Why aren't you answering?

Rin-chan, it's been two days, and nobody has heard from you! Are you okay? Kirishima said you were really bad off when he saw you. Sero said he called the school, but they're not answering anyone since the press conference.

I wish you'd answer my calls. You saved my life; I'd like to tell you thanks instead of typing it. And I'm worried. Everyone was talking about how that was your brother in the woods. That's awful!

I click to the next message, and then the one after, reading text after text. They continue for what seems forever, another and another and another.

Dude, where are you? Are you okay?

Rin-chan, I know it's been crazy, but can't you please call someone? Or text? No one's heard from you in days. I'm calling Present Mic's radio station tonight if I haven't heard back.

Hoki-chan, I can't imagine what you're going through, but we're here for you. Call someone, please?

Rin-chan?

Call.

Talk to us.

Answer your phone!

Please let us know you're okay!

We're worried about you.

I clutch the phone and leave my room, eyes filling with tears. I check the living room first, but Sensei isn't there or the kitchen. The bathroom door is ajar, so I go to his bedroom door. My lip quivers as I knock. The door opens an instant later, Aizawa Shouta standing there silent, blinking in confusion. He stares like he's not really sure he's awake.

"Yes?"

"Why do they care?" I choke out.

He frowns, eyebrows drawing together.

"Who are you talking about?"

"You. Shinsou. Them."

My hands rise to my face and I sob. Sensei sighs and gathers me towards himself. When my breath comes in fast, quick breaths he rubs my back.

"Breathe Rin." I do, taking deep, steadying breaths. When I'm somewhere near calm, he releases me. "Go sit on the couch."

I nod and do as he says. He comes soon, walking out to join me. He drops the rabbit in my arms, a blanket against my legs. Then he sits in the middle. I crash sideways, head falling into his lap. I've missed this. I've missed the quiet peace of his apartment, of his couch. Of him.

I sigh softly as the fingers move through my hair, the heat of his thigh warming my face.

"What brought this on?"

"Texts," I answer succinctly. I hand him my phone. He takes it with a frown and his eyebrow lifts when he sees the large number of messages, many of them still unopened. "Why do they care?"

"Why wouldn't they?" he asks instead.

I curl tighter, eyes closing as I breathe in deeply. Sensei sighs.

"How do you feel?"

"Broken," I answer quietly.

"You're not," he says. "Do you want to talk, or do you just want comfort?"

I don't know.

I want to hear his voice, but the thought of saying anything, of trying to dig out the words from the jumble that is my chest seems nearly impossible.

So I say nothing.

Sensei sighs and stays there. Eventually, I fall asleep.

.

.

.

The next morning, Sensei calls me for breakfast, and I frown noticing the white button-down shirt, the tie held loosely around his neck, and his half-pulled back hair. My stomach clenches.

"Did… someone die?" I whisper.

Sensei stills and gives me a concerned look.

"No."

"Oh," I don't say anything more and go to get cereal. Sensei watches with half-lidded eyes. I'm not hungry, but I pour it regardless, filling half the bowl. He sits beside me, taking up his normal seat with a strange expression.

"Due to the continuous attacks against you and your classmates, Principal Nezu is building on-campus dorms."

I put the top on the milk and say nothing, not really sure what there is to say. He waits, but when I remain silent, he shrugs and goes on.

"I'll be visiting your classmates for the rest of the week to convince their parents to put them in U.A.'s care. You will join me. Toshinori and I will be doing rounds together, along with another UA employee driver."

I swallow a mouthful and frown.

"Oh."

I consider his words and stir my food, the loose pieces of cereal floating in the milk. It tastes like cardboard despite the generous amounts of sugar I can see swirling in the liquid. I set down the spoon, appetite disappearing.

"Will I go?"

His bored expression doesn't change, but I can tell he's analyzing my question by the way he leans back, his gaze piercing.

"Yes," he says at last. My stomach churns nauseatingly.

He'll get rid of you eventually.

My eyes burn.

"Rin, what are you thinking?" he asks, voice stern.

I sniff.

"You're a liar," I whisper, dark despair welling in my chest. Hate and venom rise in my chest. "You're just like everyone else. You make promises you won't keep."

I glare at the cereal, something desolate and cold aching in my belly. It's a cold flame that licks at my insides, too sweet smoke rising from my skin. It curls in lazy circles from my arms and legs.

Sensei scowls, his lips dipping dangerously.

Angry.

He's sending you away. He promised. He promised to keep you.

"How have I lied?" he asks, voice flat.

"I'm not going," I bite out.

His face darkens.

"Eat your food and go to the couch."

I don't.

"No."

Shoving the food away I cross my arms, not caring that the milk sloshes against the table or the soggy cereal moves.

"Then go to the couch."

"No," I snap.

"Rin-"

"Or what?" I ask viciously. "What are you going to do? Get rid of me? You already are!"

"I am not-"

"Shut up!" I snarl, shoving away from the table and flipping the chair. "You don't care! Stop fucking pretending!"

I can see his jaw tighten, can see his nostrils flare and his eyes darken. He quiets and stares. And he looks like a hero.

He says nothing. Makes no move to react. I hate it.

I hate everything.

I move to the door and he reacts instantly, his chair scraping loudly across the floor as he stands.

"Don't touch that door."

"Or what?" I ask, glaring. I snap open the lock.

He's there in three long strides, his hands reaching out and grabbing my shoulders.

"Don't touch me!" I shout, shoving away.

"Then don't touch the door," he says, twisting away to lock it back. "Go to your room, now."

"Or what? You'll hit me?" I growl. Tears stream unwanted down my face and I glare. "Fuck you! You're just like everyone else! You're all the same!"

"Room," he says, voice low. "Do not make me tell you again."

I snarl and spin, ripping the door open and slamming it shut. I can hear his teeth grind and I kick it for good measure. My chest fills with a dark pleasure at his muffled curses and I consider kicking it again. I don't. I crawl into my bed instead, throwing the stupid rabbit across the room. I throw the pillows too, kicking the covers away and screaming into the mattress.

My screams turn to sobs soon after.

"Liar," I choke. "You're all liars."

Kaito's face, twisted and vicious.

A knife, glinting in the dark.

I don't know how long I lay there, crying. Eventually, the door opens though, and Sensei's sigh fills the room. I sniff and glare. He ignores me, bending forward instead to pick the rabbit off the floor. He stares at it quietly, lips twisted down, and then he sighs, setting it on the dresser. He turns back and takes in the mess of sheets.

"Are you ready or do you need ten more minutes?" he asks flatly, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He looks tired.

I hate it.

"Fuck you," I snarl.

He stares back unimpressed.

"Very well," he says, turning on his heels. He shuts the door back gently and my hands clench in the sheets as fire roars in my veins. I roll from the bed and kick the sheets, wishing they were Sensei's face, wishing they were Asp's mask, wishing they were me.

They all leave.

My strength falters as the sobs come again. I snarl and drop to the floor, slamming my fist against the sheets.

What's wrong with me?

Kaito. Kaito, what did I do?

I snarl and sob and it's like there's a crack in my chest. It hurts. Everything hurts. Why didn't they love me? What did I do wrong? Why? Why? Why?

I choke on the emotions, on the desolation as it pours out, seeping from my skin, my lips, and my eyes. Black and viscous and tasting like bitter roots. It drips down my skin in thick, tacky globs. It sticks to the sheets and clings against my skin like tar. I gag on the liquid, coughing and crying and dragging it from my face. It comes away in strings, so quickly replaced I can only cough harder.

I can't breathe.

It's like drowning in my shadows but worse.

My hands move more furiously, panic rising as the liquid coats my tongue and face and nose. As it leaks and sticks to my eyes.

There's a sound as the door opens again and a muttered curse.

And then he's there.

I can hear him move, squelching through the nasty muck around me. I can feel his hands moving across my face, the calloused pressure of his thumb against my jaw. Two thick fingers dig into my mouth, sweeping across my tongue and curling near my throat. Nausea rises as I gag on them, as they scrape against my cheek and slide away. He curses again and I gasp for breath, coughing on the bitter substance.

"Keep your eyes closed and breathe," he says, thumbs crossing my cheek and eyes. "Ten from your mouth, now."

I do, feeling them rattle in my chest. His hands pass against my eyes again, warm and rough and there. They settle against my jaw and I open them slowly, tiredly. Sensei stares back with bloodshot red eyes, his long, dark hair standing on end.

"Good," he says. "Do you still feel… whatever that was?"

"O-Only a little," I choke. I reach forward and grasp at his chest, at the splattered button down. He grunts, hair falling and eyes darkening. His hands move to my hair, stroking it like it's not covered in thick, sticky tar.

"You will get me if you feel that way again," he says sternly, fingers tightening. He makes a sound in his throat. "Promise me."

"Y-Yes, sir."

"Good," he says, rising. He pulls me to my feet, grimacing. He's coated in the tar-like substance, his dress clothes ruined, the sheets and carpet beneath me covered in it. He takes it all in with a neutral expression. "Go take a shower. I'll deal with this."

.

.

.

The black substance dissolves quickly under the heat of the shower, as do most of my feelings. Except shame. That worms its way through my belly like a knife, slashing at my insides until I scratch at my skin just to make it stop. I turn the water hotter, letting the liquid scald.

By the time I get out I'm red, dizzy, and exhausted.

It's a familiar feeling.

Wrapping the towel around myself, I hesitantly return to my room.

The sheets are gone, but a black trail leads from the middle of my room.

Like blood but darker.

I dress quickly, putting on a simple shirt and shorts. I step into the hall and nearly fall over when I slam into Sensei, who's changed as well. This outfit looks nearly the same, tan pants and a button-down.

"Rin," he says, catching my shoulders. "Be careful."

"Sorry," I whisper, looking down.

"Go sit on the couch," he says, pushing me towards the kitchen. "I'll be there in a minute."

I go obediently, shuffling towards the couch and sitting on my end. I curl there and cry, hopelessness and exhaustion warring for dominance. Sensei returns shortly, a blue tie wrapped loosely around his white button-down shirt. He ties it without looking, hands moving swiftly in what's clearly a practiced motion. He sits as he adjusts the fabric and flattens it down.

"S-Sir?"

"How are you feeling?" he asks, frowning.

"F-Fine-"

"That is not a feeling. What emotion or emotions are inside of you right now. List them in whatever order. Would you like me to go first?"

I… I stare.

What?

Then, slowly, I nod.

He sits on the couch and frowns.

"Currently, I am frustrated and concerned. What just happened in your room was distressing. Had I not heard you cough and thought to check on you, you could have drowned in your quirk. I am concerned that your first reaction was to run away from me rather than to your room as it has always been. But mainly, I am frustrated that you think I've lied."

He narrows his eyes and takes a deep breath.

"I have told you countless times that I am not getting rid of you. If you would have let me finish, I would have been able to explain. We will be moving into the dorms. All Might and I will both split the responsibility of the dormitories, and you will be staying in my apartments until such a time as I can trust you to live 20 feet down the hall without incident."

I flinch.

He massages the bridge of his nose.

"Rin. Summarize what I just said."

I pull at my fingers and stare at the floor.

"I… I need to be good and y-you won't l-leave and-"

"Stop," he says, holding up a hand.

I still. He sighs.

"You do not need to be good," he says simply. "You are good. You are brave, funny, and intelligent. I will not leave if you misbehave. I will correct it, with essays and words. Do you understand?"

I stare at him in confusion.

"But… But I was horrible," I whisper, eyes watering again. I wipe away the tears, hating them. "How can you say that? I was m-m-mean and r-rude and-"

"Hurt?" Sensei asks, blandly.

"C-Can I h-have-"

"Yes," he interrupts, sighing. He reaches forward and pulls even as I crawl into his lap, curling against him and laying my head upon his chest. It's the same way he held me the night he brought me back. One arm wrapped across my back and the other settled on my knee, his thumb rubs small, soothing circles.

I feel safe.

"I'm scared," I whisper, tears dripping down my face and nose.

"Of what?"

"You'll leave," I answer honestly, my voice breaks as I press against him. "You're all I have left. Nobody else… They all hate me. Kaito… Yui… They all… They all left me. Please don't, Sensei. Sensei, please. Please."

"I won't," he says.

My lip quivers and I want to believe him, I want it so bad it hurts.

"They always do," I whisper.

"I won't," he promises again. His hand reaches out and taps on the silver bracelet I never remove. "I chose you, Rin. I chose to take you in, and I choose to keep you. Child, I know this is hard for you to understand, but I want you."

The words hurt. I shake in his arms and he doesn't move.

"B-B-But what about when y-y-you don't?"

"Then you have my promise that no matter how angry, frustrated, or upset I get you are mine. I will never abandon you."

It isn't enough. He seems to realize this.

He leans forward, his lips pressing against my head, his breath hot against my forehead.

He holds me anyway.