Even though his class was full of nice, friendly people, not a lot of people took the time to know Koji Koda. He didn't really blame them for that, though. After all, it wasn't like he stuck out. Aside from his very non-standard appearance, Koji tended to fade into the background. He didn't have a flashy Quirk, and he avoided talking whenever he could. He'd gotten a little better about that even since Jiro had started helping him with opening up a little more, but even now that he could talk with his classmates, that didn't mean they were suddenly interested in asking about his personal life. The most attention he'd ever had was when they found out he kept a bunny in his room.

That's part of what made this whole school exchange thing so weird. All of a sudden, he had someone assigned to spend time with him. Koji wouldn't necessarily have hated that, but Karen Beecher was not the type to be a quiet presence in her month in Japan. Karen was many things: intelligent, driven, stubborn, and caring. Low-key was none of them. Nearly every day, she had Koji training, either focusing on helping her or him. With the latter, it mostly seemed to be because she was infuriated with how he struggled to make his Quirk stand out.

It was Monday, but since they'd had the combat field trip on Saturday, they had the morning off of classes. Without any plans to do anything with that time, Karen had agreed that an actual break would probably be a good idea, so they spend it on the school grounds. One of the things Koji loved most about UA was how it was connected more to the rural rolling hills than the city, which gave him a lot of animals to talk to.

It was something Koji struggled to make other people understand. It wasn't like his Quirk allowed him to control the minds of animals, and even if it did, he wouldn't want to. But saying he 'talked' to animals also always felt a little off. After all, most animals weren't sapient, they couldn't really communicate in a way that made sense to people. What Koji got from them was more...simple? That's part of what he liked about them, though. Similarly, part of making his Quirk work was translating the complex things he needed into things the animals could understand, which meant knowing the animals.

Karen was sitting on a nearby bench as Koji had a squirrel on his lap, squeaking at him. Of all the local fauna, squirrels were probably the most social, which meant they were always excited to try and communicate with Koji. This one was happily sharing recent tree climbing exploits when Koji heard someone approach Karen, but didn't turn around to look. "Hey, Karen." It was the baritone rumble of Mal, the guy Karen had a crush on, and that made sure there was no way Koji was going to look at what was going on. Nope. He was just going to play with the squirrel and pretend he didn't exist.

"Hey Mal," was Karen's response, and from just the tone, Koji could imagine what exactly she was doing. Namely, not looking at Mal when she talked, with an expression that made it clear he was starting this conversation on the defensive. Koji knew why though, as she'd shared it with him not long after they'd been partnered up: she liked Mal, she was pretty sure he liked her, but she was infuriated that he'd yet to do anything about it.

It was weird, because Koji thought that, if she wanted to be with him, she could just ask him out herself, but he hadn't actually said that out loud. That would have required much more social fortitude than Koji had. Apparently, Mal was just as confused by why she was not too happy to see him, and Koji's sharp ears could pick up the sound of Mal running a hand through his short hair. "Karen, there was something I've been wanting to ask you. After school today, would you want to go out with me?"

His question came with a lot of hesitation and uncertainty, like he expected Karen to bite his head off for an incorrectly pronounced syllable. There was a bit of a pause before she gave her answer, and before she said a word she let out a huff of air. "Finally. Yes, let's do that. Where did you want to go?" There was relief and excitement buried under her annoyance, and Koji smiled, certain that Mal was happy to hear that answer.

"Oh, uh," Mal started, sounding like he hadn't expected to get this far. "I'm not sure. Where would you want to go?" He was sounding a little more confident, which Koji felt bad about, since he knew Mal had just said the wrong thing. He scratched the underside of a brown squirrel on his lap's chin, ready for Karen's response.

But instead of a sharp, barbed comment like Koji was expecting, Karen just let out a sigh. "Mal, I was asking where you wanted to go. But...since you asked, I heard there's a great amusement park an hour or so away. Plus, with your Quirk, we could get back pretty fast." She was actually sounding really happy with how things were going, and while that surprised Koji, it also gladdened him as well.

Sounding a little apprehensive, Mal replied, "What about the buddy system?" Karen had a rebuttal ready for that, but by this point, Koji had tuned out the conversation. Maybe, he pondered, if the date went well, Karen wouldn't be as eager to make him train. What he hadn't expected was that, after a very successful date, in much higher spirits, she actually made him train more.

After classes ended for the day, M'gann M'orzz waited outside a door for nearly half an hour before she got up the nerve to knock on it. Seconds after she had, it opened up just enough for the occupant to see outside, and when he saw it was her outside, Katsuki Bakugo growled, "Come in," before retreating back inside. With permission seemingly granted, M'gann entered the room and shut the door behind her. Bakugo had already changed out of his school clothes, into a grey tank top and blue jeans. "What do you want?" he asked, though M'gann didn't know why.

Ever since she'd been assigned him as her partner, Bakugo had been a fascinating mystery for M'gann. At first, he seemed just like a hothead, eager for violence and action, and not the best candidate for being a hero. But as she spent more time with him, she saw that he was smart, probably one of the smartest students in his class. She'd seen moments where he showed how much he cared about certain other people, including people she'd thought he hated. But it was hard to even see that depth, with how antisocial and private he was. She'd respected his stance on her telepathy since the beginning: no getting into his head.

But things had changed. A few days ago, he'd lost, despite doing his best, and it seemed like it broke him. She'd barely seen him since then, and when she did, Bakugo tried to keep the interactions as brief as possible. Standing up to other people wasn't easy for M'gann, but this seemed like a crisis. If she was being honest, part of why she wanted to do this also came from the fact that, as far as she could tell, Bakugo actually respected her. Few people did that, and from Bakugo of all people, that meaned something. Meeting his harsh gaze, M'gann told him, "I know you've been struggling with something, for a long time. I know it got worse when you lost to Midoriya. I want to help. I know you said you didn't want me to look into your mind, but you need help. I can restrict myself however much you need, but telepathic therapy is the a great way to-"

Before she could finish trying to sell him on the idea, Bakugo barked, "I'll do it." Stunned, M'gann just stared at him as he added a few conditions. "You're only going to look at my feelings, none of my memories." It was a statement, not a request. "I get to see your feelings too. I'm not the only one dealing with stuff, and you can use my help just as much." Rather than argue, which M'gann knew would be a fruitless endeavor, she told him to sit in a comfortable position, while she did the same, and then extended her mind.

It was impossible for a Martian to explain to a human what their telepathy really was, even if the human had some form of psychic powers themselves. It was an intrinsic part of who they were, green or white, like a human's arm or leg. No, even that wasn't quite right. Humans could lose their arms or legs, or be born without them. A Martian only lost their telepathy when they weren't conscious, or when they were dead.

Connecting their minds together was simple, but setting up the necessary boundaries was more difficult. As Bakugo wanted, M'gann made sure each would only have access to the other's emotions, not any memories. In order to properly work through it all, she set up a mental landscape for them, and suddenly they were there. She'd gone with a place that would be more familiar to Bakugo, to help him feel more comfortable, namely a UA classroom.

They were both there, still wearing the clothes they'd had on in the real world. Bakugo looked more calm than she'd ever seen before, and he looked at her blankly. "Why...do I feel like this?" He looked down at his body, as if only seeing it for the first time. "I'm not...mad. I'm not...happy. I just...am."

Nodding, M'gann raised a hand. For someone doing this for the first time, she was aware it would feel more than a little disoriented, though M'gann was far more used to the serenity this mindstate provided than Bakugo would be. "I've separated our emotions from our mind, so they can be properly examined," she explained, calmly. "That way, we can better understand them, and internalize them." Too many humans saw their emotions as a part of their intrinsic sense of selves, rather than the bundle of chemical reactions they really were.

Holding up her hands, she created two floating orbs, one yellow, the other green. Then she floated the green orb over to Bakugo, while she laid one hand on the yellow orb. Suddenly, emotions that were not her own washed over her like a tidal wave. To her surprise, anger was not the first, or the largest, to jump out at her. It was shame. Shame, built on a bedrock of pride. Bakugo's pride in himself, in his abilities, was so deep and so strong she was amazed at it. But it had cracks in it, flaws, and shame was pouring out through them. How could he be so strong, and keep losing? Why did he keep failing? She could feel all of that, and more. Self loathing. Fear. And yes, anger. But not directed outwardly, only inwardly.

Taking her hands off the orb, the feelings left her, leaving M'gann clear headed once more. Looking over at Bakugo, who was taking his hands off her orb a the same time, M'gann told him, "It's okay to struggle. To fail. You're doing your best. But if you want help, you only need to ask." Her words came without compassion, as she too was empty of her emotions. Instead, they were simple pieces of advice.

Bakugo nodded, still looking oddly blank without his own emotions. "That's true. M'gann, you need to talk to your team. You can't blame yourself for everything that goes wrong. You need to stand up for yourself." His advice came smoothly, and M'gann could only nod, accepting what he was saying as he had to her words. This done, M'gann concentrated, and slowly reintroduced their emotions back into themselves, and transitioned them from the mindscape back into the real world.

Once fully restored, M'gann felt...conflicted. Bakugo had been right, she knew she needed to stand up for herself. She and her team had gotten along at first, but that fell apart, piece by piece, until now none of them wanted to speak to her. It was part of why they struggled as a team now. The only way to fix it would be to stand up, be a leader, and talk to them. It would be hard...but she could do it.

Looking back over at Bakugo, she saw he was sweating, like he'd just been through a work-out. He was looking at her, and M'gann didn't think she'd ever seen him look so...contemplative? "Your therapy isn't crap," he told her. "I meant what I said in there, too." She nodded, but before she could say anything, Bakugo continued. "You were right, too. I...it's been a long time since I've been that calm. While you're here, we should do that more often. And once you're gone...I'm probably gonna have to find an actual therapist." Bakugo sounded like he hated every step of that process, but M'gann was so happy to hear him say all that that she rushed over to give him a hug. He grumbled a little about it, but didn't forcibly remove her this time, so M'gann counted that as a win.