Can you ever be a hero if all you cause is pain?

"Kubo-chan, my name is-"

This was. . .

"In regards to your quirk-"

Completely. . .

"Your father expressed concern-"

Positively. . .

"-and we understand that Inoue-kun had-"

The worst thing I've ever had to sit through. Worse than sex-ed being taught by my past life's high school gym teacher who was more brawn than brain.

"Now that we are in the process of registering your quirk, it's important that you attend your quirk counseling in order for those around you to be safe. I'm here to help you understand what your quirk is and the proper ways to keep you from using your dangerous ability."

At three-nearly-four years old, I'd found myself sitting in my very first Quirk Counseling session mandated by the country. And I was not happy about it. I wish my quirk decided to manifest around five like all the other emitter kids so I didn't have to be sitting through this.

Sure, I understood that it was important for me to get so-called quirk counseled, but I don't know what they expected from me when I could barely understand every other word that was coming out of the woman's mouth.

Pre-school sucks.

The woman's drawn out, heavy sigh had my lolled back head coming down from where it was looking at the patterns on the ceiling to look at her. "Kubo-chan," she started, "I know you probably don't want to be here and would rather be playing with your friends, but it's important that you listen to what I have to tell you."

It was hard to keep the pout out of my voice and off my face when I asked: "Why?" I'm pretty sure I didn't succeed.

She tried smiling but it looked more like a grimace to me. "Because quirks, especially those like yours, are dangerous to people, and it's something that you need to learn how to control right away."

Which, I'll admit, did make sense. I had hurt him, hurt the little boy with hypothermia-blue skin and milky white eyes who didn't deserve to be put through the ringer like I did with him. The adult I should be took a backseat while the child I currently am wanted the boy to suffer. And he did.

He hurt. He cried.

Curled up into a little ball in pain, pain, pain.

I might have put on the face of a child who felt guilty and horrible about what she did, but deep inside, somewhere dark and void, pitchblack and empty, tucked into a crevice that nobody could ever reach, I felt smug.

It itched within me, swelling, throbbing. In my chest, in my head, felt it grind between my teeth and push against the back of my eyes.

But the adult in me, the part of me that lived a whole other life that babysat kids and dreamed of their own someday stomped on that feeling while sitting in there, in that office, with a woman who I would be seeing for the next few years. Stomped on it and said no.

"I know," I muttered. I know, I know, I know. The whole 'with great power comes great responsibility' mantra was repeated through generations for a reason in my past life in superhero comics and movies. I know that I have the potential to hurt someone, have hurt someone. I had a dangerous ability, but that didn't mean I was dangerous, did it? Because I have this - this quirk, that didn't mean I was going to use it against somebody? People were dangerous without having special powers.

So why? Why did she say:

Both Tamajiki - Amajiki, Amajiki, A, Ma, Ji, Ki - and I watched as Mirio got escorted out of the classroom by our math teacher. I'm pretty sure we blinked in synchrony as we watched him go, but I couldn't be too sure considering I found the blond's finger-guns and wink pointed at us much more attention grabbing. Haise-sensei pinching the bridge of her nose came in as close second though (I had a strong inkling that it would be a familiar gesture during the year).

But, that left me and Amajiki without the boisterous blue-eyed boy to keep us company. Or, more accurately, bulldoze us through a conversation regardless of how much or namely how little either Tamaki and I spoke.

I'd never been a big talker, always preferred listening than speaking in any situation - past life or present. However, the thing was for this go round was that learning to speak a second, and highly foreign language (to me at least), was difficult. I don't care what anybody says, total immersion really was the way to go when learning a new language. That doesn't mean that I still didn't get tripped up in conversation when speaking to somebody else. Just meant that I preferred not talking in order to not get tongue-tied.

Be that as it may, my purple-hair seatmate didn't seem so inclined to talk without Mirio present. Hell, he barely said anything when the blond was here! And quite frankly, I didn't feel much inclined to talk either.

What happened next was the most awkward fifteen minutes of my new life that I've ever had.

Amajiki and I just sat there. Quietly. Very, very quietly. Neither of us moving. I think we both should have accepted that we didn't have to do anything, but it seemed that we knew we should have probably done something, maybe like, I don't know, taken out our lunch at the very least. But no. We just awkwardly sat there acknowledging that we were both very awkward people while staring nervously at our desks. Go us.

Those fifteen minutes felt more like an hour, and would have probably bled into being an actual hour if neither of us made a first move so I ended up taking one for the team by digging through my bookbag in search of my lunch box. That seemed to spur the boy beside me into doing so as well if his sudden slight quaking in his seat while he fumbled with his own bag was any indication.

We'd both taken out our bentos, mine that my mom made and Tamajiki-Tamaki-Amajiki's that also looked homemade. Except, damn, okay. That had to be the most delcious looking fucking bento I'd ever laid eyes on. And there was so much of it.

I side eyed his bento- it was three-tiered!- full of rice, and meat, and, and fuck- vegetables. So. Many. Vegetables. He had carrots, celery, spinach, tomato; god that looked like the best fucking salad and side dishes I'd ever laid eyes on. Steamed brussel sprouts, pickled cabbage. . .

I looked back down at my own bento. Rice, egg, and chicken katsu. Lacking anything remotely resembling a veggie. It was painful.

I went back to discreetly eyeballing his carrots.

At least, I thought it was discreetly.

"D-D-Do you w-want some," Tamaki stuttered, the end of his question trailing off to the point that I began to wonder if he even said anything.

"W-What?"

Ah, damn my own stutter. That's what I get for eye-fucking his lunch.

"Do you want some of my lunch," he mumbled. He peered at me through his bangs, hands clenched atop his lap underneath the desk. He spoke lowly, but at least he didn't stutter this time. "You looked like you really wanted it. . ."

I felt my body go warm in embarrassment, my sailor girl uniform feeling too stuffy for this situation.

"I'm sorry I just-" I rubbed my cheek nervously. "Your carrots just look so good, you have no idea."

He nodded, looking back down at his lunch. His lips thinned and quivered before he opened his mouth to speak. "You can have them, I don't m-mind."

And we're back to the stuttering.

I waved my hand in the air between us. "Oh no, I don't want to take your food from you. Sorry. I normally don't get to eat many veggies so when I see one it's like looking at heaven's gate. Or the forbidden fruit. Or ambrosia. . . Actually, now that I think about it, I don't know anything about religion or mythology so don't quote me on anything. I'm just saying that I don't get to eat veggies and I could really use some in my life."

Oh man, so much for not being a talker. Now I'm rambling!

Though, he didn't seem to mind considering he was looking directly at me now and- oh goodness, smiling.

It was a small thing, really. But in the few hours from today and yesterday that I've known the purple-haired boy, I've not seen him smile. And it was a gentle smile too. A little on the shy side but none the less genuine, and it made my palms really sweaty. I couldn't help but think that he should smile more often.

"I don't mind. I have a lot and I eat them pretty often, so you can have them," he said as he picked up the tier of his box that contained his vegetables and passed it to me.

I took his offer with surprisingly un-shaky hands before putting it on my desk.

Something warm bloomed in my chest, in my heart. Not the same warmth that flushed throughout my body in embarrassment, like I was standing too uncomfortably close to a hot stove in the middle of summer cooking up a pot of boiling soup. No, this warmth inside of me cradled my heart with strong, gentle hands, enveloping it like hot cocoa on a cold winter day, wrapped in blankets.

All because he gave me his carrots.

Damn.

I really must be vegetable-starved; how dramatic.

"I-" I paused. "Thank you, Amajiki-san."

He smiled before ducking his head down, giving me full view of his long, pointed ear that burned red at the tip.

I ducked my own head to hide my growing smile. Grabbing my chopsticks, I started to grab the carrots to put them into my own lunch box when he spoke up again.

"A-Actually, you can have the whole thing. The salad and vegetables are y-yours!"

I paused mid-movement, head swiveling around to look at him with furrowed brows. "What? No! This is your lunch, I just wanted a carrot!"

"I-It's fine! Just-Just take the bento."

"It's your lunch!"

"You're the one who compared veggies to 'heaven's gate!'"

"I said don't quote me!"

His face was flushed a deep, dark red and though he wasn't yelling, his voice had risen a few decibels. Wasn't he supposed to be shy or something?

Tamaki huffed, shoulders tensed and his own chopsticks clenched tightly between his fingers. "I gave it to you so just. . . please eat it."

I wanted to fight him more on it, I really did. Because I honestly felt bad about taking his lunch, but it was the most I'd ever heard him talk, and the loudest, and it felt like I'd do a disservice to him by saying no after everything.

"Okay, okay. . . Thank you, Amajiki-san. Again. I. . . I really appreciate it, you have no idea."

He just shrugged his tensed shoulders while he stuffed a few slices of beef and rice in his mouth. Meanwhile I crunched happily on a carrot.

Ah fuck, they were so good. Fresh, wet, crisp. The fucking crunch.

"K-Kubo-san," Tamaki quietly muttered from my side. I turned to face him, slowly shoving a carrot into my chomping teeth, like a woodchipper. Piece by piece. Nom nom nom.

He wasn't looking at me, eyes focused on the tamagoyaki pinched between his chopsticks.

I paused my carrot crunching. "Yes, Amajiki-san?"

My seatmate didn't say anything at first, just continued staring at his piece of rolled up egg. Hesitating? Debating? Then finally:

"If you like vegetables so much, why don't you put them in your lunch box?"

I shoved the rest of the small carrot into my mouth, grinding it thoroughly between my molars. Pushing it to one end I spoke up. "Because of my mom. Her quirk makes her rather carnivorous."

He brought his chopsticks to his lips and placed the egg into his mouth. "Her quirk?"

"Yeah." I swallowed. "It's called Plantpathy; which is really just a shortened version of Plant Empathy, but it's not like I can tell the person who named the quirk that the name isn't that witty. Anyways - she can feel the well-being and conditions of plants, and is able to connect with them."

Tamaki looked at me then, a grain of rice stuck to the side of his mouth. "O-Oh, that's cool. Can she control them?"

I shook my head, a grape tomato making its home in my mouth. I bit into it, the juice exploding on my tongue. I made sure to swallow before speaking because the last thing I needed to do was accidentally spit on his face while talking. "No, she can't. Just connect with them and use that green thumb of hers - and no, she doesn't actually have a green thumb, I'm talking figuratively here, although her hair is green. . ." I tapped my lip before getting back on track. "She also just talks to them and nurtures them because they also feed off of positive vibes and stuff. I don't know, it's pretty interesting. But because she can empathise with plants, she refuses to eat them."

Tamaki nodded his indigo head of hair in understanding. "That. . . That makes sense. So she's kind of like a plant whisperer."

"Like a plant. . . Oh my god! Tamajiki-san you genius!"

"G-Genius?"

"A plant whisperer! The person who named her quirk should take a page from your book because that's way better than Plantpathy."

I couldn't help the laugh ripped through my mouth. A plant whisperer! That was comedic gold!

I told him as such.

"I don't know if it's really that funny, Kubo-san. . ." But despite saying that, he had a small smile and soft blush on his face.

I grinned. "You telling me my sense of humor sucks, Tamajiki-san?"

"I'm not saying it sucks."

A pause.

"I'm just not saying it's good either."

"Ta- Tamajiki-san!"

The boy stuffed the whole roll of egg into his mouth, but even doing that he couldn't hide the way his lips stretched out into a wide closed-mouth smile.

My shoulders shook with suppressed laughter as I went back to my food, chopsticks carrying a mouthful of spinach (spinach!) into my mouth. I didn't say anything about his playful jab at my shitty humor, and he didn't say anything about me messing up his name.

Thank you to everyone who has read, followed, and favorited this story! A special thanks to those that reviewed! Sorry this chapter is a bit short, I'm in the middle of midterms and am currently ignoring very important grades by writing and posting this lol.

Hyacinth97: Thank you so much for being my very first review and your kind words! I'm glad you enjoy it thus far!

xenoncanaan: Thank you for reviewing! I'm glad you like it! I hope I don't disappoint when it comes to characters and their relationships with one another; it's actually one of the biggest factors in the story and plays a key role!

On that note, this story will now start getting into the meat of things within the next few chapters where you'll see the trio older, where Momoe's quirk will be revealed, and much much more. If you've any questions, comments, criticisms, let me know!

Togata Mirio was many things. He was a stubborn, strong-willed, happy-go-lucky guy with a megawatt smile and a tendency to find himself into all sorts of trouble that he usually dragged his best friend Amajiki Tamaki into.

He also prided himself on being a rather intellectual person. One that many people didn't realize, and one that he dressed down, humbling himself because he didn't need to prove to others he was smart. He just was. He was just a damn goof.

So, he liked to think that he was able to get a good read in any situation.

The situation he found himself in happened to warrant closer inspection.

Mirio and Tamaki were walking down the road after school, the sun just beginning to set over the horizon and splashing the clouds in the sky with a plethora of oranges, reds, and pinks, slowly being chased away by the darkening blues of approaching nightfall.

Their shoes crunched on the asphalt, lightly drowned out by the sounds of bird calls and the humming of cars in the near distance a few streets over.

But Mirio didn't pay attention to any of this, too focused on the small smile that pulled at his indigo-haired friend's lips as he clutched at the straps to his backpack, the strands of his hair swaying with every step he took.

Now, a smiling Tamaki wasn't a rare Tamaki. As someone who has known the other boy for years, quickly becoming best friends and near inseparable, Mirio was privy to all sorts of smiles and laughter that his shyer companion made. From those soft, encouraging smiles Tamaki gave Mirio in the occasions that the blond found himself faltering, to the loud uncontrollable laughter the pointy-eared boy made when they both ended up tripping into a pond during a game of tag. No, a smiling and happy Tamaki was not rare. But the smile he wore as they walked the lonely alleyways on their way home from school? That was a rare smile.

It was a soft one, pulling gently at the edges of his lips that barely crinkled the corners of his eyes atop his slowly sharpening cheekbones that started to lose the roundness of his youth. It made his already gentle eyes even more tender, the indigo of his irises warm and bright.

It was the same smile that Tamaki made at Mirio when the pointy-eared boy didn't think the blond was looking. Like the time they went to their hometown's spring festival and bought ice cream to eat at the top of the ferris wheel, and Miro was gazing through the window to admire the plethora of colorful lights while Tamaki admired the way the lights reflected off of the blond's bright blue eyes and large smile. Or when Tamaki had been having a bad day at school, the pressure of his peers, teachers, and parents getting to him because he was too quiet, too shy, and they urged him to speak up, act out, anything; and they sat on the swings of their neighborhood park while it got dark out and the street lamps turned on, illuminating in a pale light that didn't do the dark corners of the park any favors; and they sat there after Mirio cheered him up with his kind and encouraging words before looking ahead like he was peering at their future and Tamaki looked at the blond like he was the purple-haired boy's future.

The same smile that was all warmth, all life, all love. As gentle as a butterfly's wings and as strong as a gust from a great typhoon. Kind, resilient.

The same smile that Mirio saw earlier that day when he got back to the classroom before lunch ended and class began, as Tamaki took an empty bento from their black-haired seatmate with sunset golden eyes and a sharp grin.

"Neh, neh, Tamaki," Mirio elbowed his quiet companion, his usual beam in place. "How was lunch? What did you think of Kubo-san? I really wished I could have joined you guys!"

Tamaki shrugged his shoulders before peering at his friend. "It was okay. Kuba-san seems nice."

"I want the juicy details, Tamaki! That sweet, sweet tea! What'd you two talk about? Did you talk? I hope you talked."

"We only talked a little bit. I. . . I gave her my salad because she really likes vegetables."

Mirio laughed loudly. "Vegetables? But it's all about the meat, the protein!"

"Ah well, she said she doesn't get to eat much vegetables because of her mother's quirk."

Mirio hummed loudly like Tamaki's answer held the key to the universe. "I guess we'll just have to bring her some of our vegetables everyday then, neh, Tamaki."

His companion hunched his shoulders, retreating his head in between them. It did nothing to hide the red in his cheeks to his blond friend.