Even considering the amount of heroes and well-trained professionals at this seminar, I still couldn't believe they'd try and abduct some of us. I, certainly, hadn't been the only one, and the more accounts I heard in the hotel hallways and lobby the more I realized: the non-quirk or "regular school" attendees had been targeted. I decidedly kept my mouth shut for two reasons:

One: I was an instructor at UA Academy, the most prestigious hero school in the region, and would've been abducted easily due to my lack of power and general cowardice.

Two: I wasn't abducted because a colleague instructor, who both dislikes me and views me unfit for his school, saved me with little to no effort.

Reason one outshined reason two for why I wasn't sharing my own experience, but the latter was a sledgehammer into my glass morale. I'd even used my quirk that day in front of an entire class and yet couldn't even stop a singular intruder. Aizawa's mockery shot bullets through my soft tissue. Would I really rely on others, like him and All Might, to always be there for the rescue?

I slipped out at the crack of dawn, Aizawa still in a euphoric dreamland, and took nest in a diner walking distance from the seminar. The food was piled high and drowning in syrups and grease, shining like gold under the overhead lights- just how I liked it. The waitress had given me a weird look when I asked for soda in lieu of tea or coffee but otherwise I'd been left to my own devices, sitting with my back against the window, knees bent and feet on the booth seat.

Coffee had never impressed me all that much; I just hadn't known how to say no to my sunflower of a friend each time he'd thought of me on his way to school. Besides, his smile was worth every bitter-tasting drop.

I glanced down at my phone. The screen was still black, inactive since yesterday morning.
I couldn't decide what would be worse: if there were a dozen voicemails and emoticon-filled texts or if there were none at all.
Only one way to find out.
The starting icon gave way to the pin verification screen. I punched in the code, ready to see the damage, when the phone immediately began to frantically vibrate.
An awkward, grinning Toshinori smiled up at me, face red and one long arm bent as he scratched that bundle of straw he called hair; the picture I'd chosen for his contact photo.

"Hello-"
"Chiyo, are you okay?" His answer was panicked, forgoing pleasantries. "Reports of the trauma-simulation broke out in the night; I was so worried-"
A strange, not wholly unpleasant feeling filled my mouth as he relayed his fear over my safety, made me promise I was fine, and that no, I didn't need him to come get me.
"It's fine, Toshinori, really. Aizawa...He, um, saved me." I nodded as the waitress wandered over, pointing at my drained glass. "It was nothing in comparison to what you did to me."
"Chiyo, words cannot express my sorrow for betraying your trust. However," His voice changed, grew thicker, "I don't regret informing Aizawa. Had this scenario occurred and he didn't think to check on you, who knows what could have happened?"
"What the hell are you talking about? It was a professional development affectation. Nothing would have actually happened to me-"
"And if it hadn't been? If it had been a real attack?"

A rogue flashback of my mother drifted into sight, like an old home movie.
"But what if something happens? What if there's a stranger? I could save myself- I could save someone else-"
She took my face in warm hands, eyes holding a million memories I'd never know.
"Some people aren't meant to be heroes. Run. Never, ever try to fight back; you run home to me."

"I'm not useless," My voice displayed a newfound calmness- one not needing the aid of submersion. "I may not be the most powerful, and I'm certainly no hero, but I'm not helpless. I refuse that term."

A few years ago, soft static would've filled the lulls between conversation. Now there was only deafening silence.
Maybe technological advances weren't always for the better.

"I still haven't forgiven you," I admitted, rattling the straw in my newly-filled glass to swirl the perfectly-square ice cubes. A sharp intake of breath cut through the phone before I continued, "However, no matter how short sighted or degrading your thought process was, I can understand what you were trying to do. You're abundant in sincerity. You probably didn't mean any harm, but it hurt nonetheless. I'll forgive you, eventually. But it's going to take time."

"Take all the time you need," He responded quietly. A smile drifted across my face at his candid response. "I completely understand. I really am sorry, Chiyo. I was just...I just worry about you."
"Thanks." But I wish you worried a little less. I wish I wasn't one to warrant worry.

We hung up on a potentially good note. I could practically feel his blush over the distance. The clock read close to nine and my plate read stop while you can still breathe, so I threw some money down and stretched out of the booth.
I looked to my phone again, fingers hovering over the screen. Mom had tried calling me twice more, the red notification now reading 6.

I put it in my bag.

I wasn't professional material, certainly. Obviously.
But if I could save myself-
Maybe I could be the hero in my own narrative.


How did I end up next to this psycho again.

I just wanted to get through today as quickly and efficiently as possible.
Turned out the seminar would be cut short due to several trauma scenarios getting out of hand last night. It was just a crowd littered with professional heroes and well-trained hero academy instructors attending; what could've gone wrong with feigned, masked kidnappers breaking into their rooms?

I figured they'd do a half-assed summary of the events and we'd be out of here by lunch, giving me just enough time to drain the remainder of my food money on Hibachi. I could already hear the sizzle of the grill. My mouth watered like a Pavlovian dog, drool pooling as I fell into the second row in the main auditorium, hoping to go unnoticed by the milling people also filing in. A sudden twitch jerked my shoulder and my bag slammed into the ground from the force. I cussed under my breath; of course I hadn't brought my laptop's protective case for the weekend trip- why would I need it for a boring PD event? An ocean of glossy seaweed blocked my view before I could lean over and assess the damage. In an instant it rose, smile wide and dopey.

"We meet again!"
"Oh," Was my intelligent response. She continued to smile as I picked up my bag, awkward and tired. "Hey, if I try and move to a different seat, are you just going to follow me?"

The lady roared with laughter, arm rising for a friendly slap. Trained by reinforcement, I quickly submersed into her arm and changed its trajectory, slicing harmlessly through the air just next to my shoulder. For a fraction of a second she looked surprised, as if aware of my tampering, and I wondered if I'd been mistaken to infiltrate her like that. I swiped at my nose, making sure it hadn't started bleeding like some possessed child's after using my quirk without the skin-to-skin interaction I was used to, and quickly stuck out my hand, trying to replicate her friendly expression. If it was anything like my attempts at imitating makeup tutorials, I'm sure it wasn't pretty.

"I'm Chiyo Tsutomi; I don't think I ever introduced myself."
"I'm Emi Fukukado!" She cheered, shaking my hand with vigor. "And! I already know who you are,"
"You do?" I asked, surprised. I flinched as the fingers holding mine suddenly tightened, glancing down before looking up at her- Emi- again. She was still grinning, lips pulled tight nearly up to her ears. Well, that's terrifying.
"You work at UA Academy with my future husband!"
"Oh," I need to find a better filler word. "Who, uh, who's that, again?"
"The darkest, brooding-est, most impressive writing-aid-named pro hero, Eraserhead!"

The auditorium had been steadily filling all the while we'd been talking.
And yet, in all that discord, there seemed to be nothing but silence in my brain.

"Pardon me?" I asked politely. She still had a vice grip on my hand; an eternal handshake at tortoise speeds. I considered trying to pull away but brushed off the idea in fear of looking weak.

"Sho-Sho and I worked in close proximity to each other when we were younger and, as any true love story goes, we fell madly in love," Her eyes grew dreamy and a dash of color painted her nose as she recalled their lovely history, finally releasing my hand to bring hers together against her chest. I flexed my fingers, trying to discreetly restore their vitality. "I was Juliet to his Romeo, and at night we would sneak away from our respective agencies for midnight trysts filled with passion and shared laughter. I will never forget the budding of our beautiful relationship, or the taste of true love's first kiss. He swore his heart to me, and if Shota Aizawa is anything, it's an oathkeeper; it's just the kind of man he is-"

This was too much; this was all just too much.

After years of quiet submersion, keeping myself under the radar, out of anyone's burning spotlight, I couldn't contain it anymore.

The dam broke, and I crashed across the shore.


The pros of having Chiyo Tsutomi around consisted of, to name a few: observing a beautiful trainwreck of a woman trying to survive the normal hardships of life- from difficult classes to raised cracks in the sidewalk, having an easy target to tease, and being gifted the most heavenly sleep one could barely even fathom.

The most damning con- those under her spell seemed to lose all control over how deep they fell into her- in regards to her personality and looks, sure- but most terrifyingly to that delicious, heavy-handed slumber, wiping out all sense of time and reality.

Shota Aizawa awoke, cussing but relatively calm, in a bed not his own, in a room mostly foreign to him, alone, and four hours later than his usual routine mandated. His bones felt light, muscles fluid and eyes clear, but his mind was a swarm of hornets, all vying for attention.

After several hours of insomnia he had crept over to her, debating for ten minutes whether to risk the bed or choose the floor. The blankets were enough to replicate his beloved sleeping bag and so he settled himself against the lush carpet, waiting until the last moment to slither his arm up and find her hand.

The submersion was immediate.

When consciousness next occurred Aizawa was atop the bed, albeit above the covers, head cradled as lovingly as a mother's touch by the downy pillows. Though students often thought him dead to the world, he was an exceedingly light sleeper; even submerged, any sudden noise or movement should have disturbed him.
How did she manage to move me without rousing me awake?
She certainly couldn't have moved him with her little noodle arms, and dragging him across the bed would have certainly awoken his senses.

The moment he had heard footsteps above, his mind filled with Toshinori's warning; about her vulnerability, and the fear that would certainly consume her upon anything going awry.

In seconds he was at her door.

The chains of rationality fell like scales from his body, quickened his step and flamed his rage at the sight of her open, voiceless mouth, skin the color of a withering violet.

He wasn't aware of himself again until her cool hand was on his arm, pulling him away from the bruised, bloodied actor.

And he wouldn't have stopped, not for a great while, if she hadn't brought him back to his senses.

He'd wanted, needed to explain himself; to restore what he'd so casually destroyed in the parking lot. He'd been too callous with his words that morning and his later actions had done nothing to soothe the situation, displaying irrational violence that was so polar opposite to his usual demeanor and her intrinsic beliefs.

She was a closed wall, unwanting of his explanations. He could hardly blame her.

But it wouldn't stop him from trying.

She desperately yearned to go unnoticed around so many quirk users, but he knew from their many morning and lunch conversations she was also a bit of an overachiever, ever the astute student. Chances were, even if she feared him seeking her out, she wouldn't be able to stay out of the first few rows of wherever the meeting was, her teacher's-pet habits not quite dormant.

The room was near-filled, teeming with pissed off looking teachers, bruised, shaken instructors, and an exceedingly nervous speaker on the sidelines, waiting for his cue.

And then he heard it.
Loud, uncontrollable laughter.
Unaware of its audience, its decibel, its crazed disposition.
Free.

Her hair, thick and coiled like a fisherman's rope, made her easily recognizable. She was bent at the waist, head thrown towards the ceiling, facing a familiar woman with a smiley-faced belt.

No.


"What did you do to her?"

Aizawa's livid face, suddenly within our circle, was haloed by dark tendrils, standing like wintery tree limbs in a forest. The air vibrated with another bout of violent laughter. Tears were spouting from the wells of my ducts and rising in the air by my uncontrolled quirk.

"I didn't do anything! This isn't me!" Emi Fukukado exclaimed, indignant. Maybe even frightened. Enough, calm down.
I wiped at my strewn face, lips unable to contain my grinning teeth. Aizawa and Emi watched, perturbed. Expectant. I shook my head, trying to subside my fading giggles.

"Shota, why didn't you tell me you were engaged? To think I was barking up the wrong tree all that time."
Aizawa's entire face paled gloriously. Emi, in turn, had gone from shocked to suspicious; precisely my motive for using the man in question's first name. Not that it held a candle to her endearing Sho-Sho.

"So that line about not bringing girls over was just bullshit, right?"
"Chiyo," He moved but my reflexes had grown overnight, pulling me out of reach.
"No, I'm good, thanks." I picked up my bag and chuckled, scouting a new seat as I brushed past the two. A calmed resolve had enveloped my bones, clarity restored.

This
is why I followed Mom's rules. This is why I stayed in my own lane, didn't toe the line or challenge the status quo. So I didn't end up the jester at another person's dinner party, dress ruined and feeling foolish.

"Chiyo, listen-"
"No, you listen," I turned, remnants of a smile itching my face. "Most girls are probably into what you do; the put-down, the cool-guy, not-giving-a-shit persona. And I think I was, for half-"

The auditorium door had opened, but it was the person nervously stepping in that caught my attention.

He was tall- one of the tallest people here, even among the various heroes. A bouquet of late summer flowers was clutched in one of his bony, nervous hands.

"Chiyo, this isn't-"
"I have to go," I cut in, voice strange. A sunshine head of hair was glancing around, unsure. I stepped in his direction, the presentation behind me forgotten.
"Quit being an idiot and just listen to me for a second."

I turned around to fully face Aizawa. He was wearing the same button down as yesterday, wrinkled after he'd thrown in unceremoniously in a chair last night. Still handsome, though clearly taken aback by my sudden calm. For the first time this weekend, I truly felt in control.

"No, you listen. I've been beating myself up over your comments, trying to find a way to prove myself to you. Because, honestly? You're right, I have been weak. For so long I've let people push me around and lived a sheltered little life in safe harbors. I want to change; it's why I was out in the rain yesterday, trying to become stronger." I took a deep breath, hushed the trembling in my limbs.
"I appreciate the way you push me to become more, but I can't deal with the hot-and-cold attitude; I can't handle the bipolar stoicism or the surprise girlfriends. So just...just do me a favor: maintain that 'oathkeeper' mentality of yours, and don't try and come to my rescue again- just like you promised last night. You keep those "sacred oaths", right? Emi can attest to that."

I exhaled the breath taken from that day in the park, in his arms. Wiped that boyish smile out of long-term memory, to be forgotten like a daydream. My feet tumbled towards the door before bold anger swiveled me around one final time.

"And by the way? The way you hide behind all those layers isn't just for pro-hero privacy's sake; it's because you're scared. Under all that shit, you're afraid of people getting to know the real you. You might think yourself a panther, but a leopard can always recognize another's spots."

Adrenaline surged through every cell, stronger than a Detroit Smash.
The newcomer had finally caught me in his vision, frighteningly skinny body falling still. I tilted my head at the door and he exited with one final glance.
"It was nice to meet you, Emi. I'll see you at school...Aizawa," I bid, brushing past them in finality.

This time, he didn't try to stop me.


His entire body hummed with nerves; I could feel it in his very blood. The sunlight caught his hair and set it aflame. Through all this, I felt an absurd smile curving my lips.

"What are you doing here, Toshinori Yagi?"

A thousand small movements fractured his demeanor, color creeping like ivy through him. His hands hid behind the small of his back. As if I hadn't already seen what he possessed. As if his body was thick enough to hide the peeking blooms on either side of his chest.

"When you picked up the phone- I was already in a car," Toshi admitted. I narrowed my eyes, waiting. The bouquet he held out contained petals of pale yellows and pinks and muted greens, with one great, wide sunflower placed just left to the center. Their scent was soft, hesitant to make itself known.

"I know you told me not to worry, but I'm afraid it's just in my nature to look out for people- especially those I-" His voice broke off and devolved into a nervous, quiet chuckle.

Slowly, I reached out for the bouquet, fingers crossing his. I felt the heat of his gaze but didn't glance up; I couldn't look at anything but that silly sunflower, wilting in its final glory days of summer. I tapped one finger against his.

"Do you...Did you take a taxi, all the way here?"
"Yes."
"That's nearly one hundred and twenty kilometers, Toshi."
"I had to get to you. At the time, it felt like life and death."

I took in a slow breath, finally met his eyes. His expression seemed so vulnerable, even with his mildly frightening features and height. My hair shook in mild disdain.

"You spent around five thousand yen to get here; another thousand because I'm sure you tipped-"
"He followed all the speed laws and was very polite to me! How could I not leave a generous tip-" His words tapered as I started to drag him away, still shaking my head.

"I have to check out of the hotel, then we can leave." I said, handing him my car keys and ushering him away. His grin made the bones of his face a little less jarring. I smiled back, chest lighter. I pulled out my phone and headed towards the hotel.

"Sweetie? I've been trying to call you for hours-"
"Hi, mom. Sorry; it's just been a real busy few days."
"Is everything okay? How'd the school thing go? Did you have any problems finding the place? I waited up last night to see if you'd call with details, but-"
"I...I think I'm going to start using my quirk, mom."
"...What?"
"I'm going to start using my quirk. I have one; I might as well make use of it-"
"...It's because of that school, isn't it?"
"No, mom. I have a quirk that could help people. At the very least, I could use it to protect my students and myself."
"I never should have let you apply to that school."
"I'm an adult, mom. I don't think you could have stopped me."
"Will you come over so we can talk about this in person?"
"Mom, no, I-"
"Please, honey? I'll make chicken congee- it's your favorite. Chiyo?"
"...Fine. I'll see you when I get home."
"I love you, Chi-chan."
"I love you too."