"Demonstrate yourself." Endeavor said, standing in full gear before Izuku and Shoto. Izuku shifted, uncomfortable with how bare he was in front of the Todorokis. In all honesty, the shirt he was wearing was the last left in the wash, and he didn't have time to get something else. He shivered; the pink steggo tank top was less foreign than when he first got it, but it was no less embarrassing.

"Yes, sir."

Stirring the pot of One for All, he coaxed Smokescreen to life. Dropping his jaw and flaring his nostrils as wide as they'd go, Izuku assumed a back-footed Taekwondo stance and let it all go.

Smokescreen did all the work for him, now. At first, he'd convinced himself he was limited to one big breath per cloud. It'd been a flawed and problematic understanding of how to use his power. First, it meant he only got one serious blast of smoke. After expelling his lung capacity, the air next to him remained tainted enough that he couldn't just make another inhale.

Second, it was just wrong. Ms. Fujimaki had figured it out herself, to his embarrassment. It wasn't even that complicated. He wasn't actively pushing the smoke out of his pores, he was releasing it. That meant the Smokescreen wanted freedom by default and would push itself free when given the chance. It was like helium escaping a balloon when someone undid the knot. The difference between him and a balloon, however, was that he wasn't limited to just the air on his insides.

If he let his quirk go, Smokescreen would push to escape, pulling the air in his lungs with it. So why close his mouth, limiting his capacity?

Air was pulled into his lungs as the air leaving his lungs left a natural vacuum, and the cycle repeated itself. It wasn't sustainable for long, but it even gave him a bit of oxygen back in the process. He could constantly emit, as of last week's test, for four minutes straight if he wanted to.

"Your file said nothing of smoke. What of the giant explosion?" Endeavor said, making eye contact with Izuku as he manipulated a tunnel between them so they could speak. A cough to the side interrupted him before he could reply. A moment later, two more tunnels appeared in the growing cloud for both Shoto and Sir Nighteye.

"His quirk is an exponential stamina-to-energy generator that manifests in different ways. What happened at Musutafu is what happens when he lets it all loose. This is just one facet of his power, what we've spent the last months honing alongside his combat ability." Nighteye said, holding a handkerchief to his nose. Endeavor grunted, running his eyes across his exposed frame and smoke tunnels. Izuku like the tunnels; it made him feel like a mole, but with air instead of dirt.

"Fascinating. Does he have physical amplification?" He asked.

"Yes, but we do not train it. We believe he will need to be in peak physical condition before we broach that subject. Such is why we have focused on this emitter aspect. Izuku, Orb Attack Pattern B." Nighteye said. Izuku grinned; Orb Attack Pattern B was his favorite creation thus far.

His cloud filled almost half the room when Izuku began condensing it. It took a lot of effort, but dramatically less compared to what it took two months ago when he'd figured it out. The tunnels collapsed as the cloud went from fifteen meters across to ten to five. Sweat trickled down his forehead as five meters became his wingspan. Reaching both arms out as far as he could, he tried to crush the remaining cloud down tighter. With his concentration through the roof, he likened himself to Michelangelo. Just, instead of molding stone, he was molding his own gaseous emissions. It was laughably easy to condense a large cloud, but once it got down to less than a meter, it took a toll. His teeth ground together as he willed the smoke to heel, the base of his skull starting to ache from the effort.

"It's an attack; it takes a massive toll, but it packs enough punch to knock a normal man out cold. Liken it to a supermove, if you will. Would you care for him to damage your wall or you?" Nighteye said, explaining Izuku's actions to Endeavor in his place, Izuku's focus too intense to disturb. The man took no time to answer, stepping forward while flames licked his arm bracers.

"Hit me, boy. Hold nothing back." Endeavor said.

Izuku moved carefully. His smoke responded more to his actions than his thoughts, and when smoke was compacted this tightly, even the tiniest awkward shift could blow up in his face. Reaching out to his creation, he guided it between himself and Endeavor. A dark green orb, about a foot and a half in diameter, hovered before him. It's edgest were uncertain and forever shifting, never settling in place for long. A pang of guilt bubbled up in his chest, but he squashed it. The man was a professional, and they were in a safe space. There was no chance of really hurting anyone. He didn't see how Nighteye took a slight step in front of Shoto.

Redoubling the pressure on all sides of the orb except Endeavor's, Izuku exhaled, bracing himself.

With a heads-up blink at the mountain of a man before him, Izuku let go.

The room screamed as the air tore free of Izuku's grip, wind whipping up from nowhere as his smoke-canon fired off towards Endeavor. A second gust of warmer wind tussled his hair and stung his eyes as a blood-red wall of flames erupted before him.

His ears popped as he shielded his eyes from the sheer heat—because wow, Endeavor's flames were hot—and stumbled back. Blinking away the sting in his eyes, Izuku looked around for the number one hero. With his smoke uncontrolled and Endeavor's fire rampaging against it, the room had become hazy once more.

"Mr. Todoroki!?" Izuku called out. For a split second of pure, ice-in-your-veins stillness, he didn't get a reply. Then, Endeavor's large silhouette made itself clear amongst the remaining smoke. A headache gripped him, but that didn't stop Izuku from dispersing his smoke around the man. It was only polite.

Endeavor looked like a motor vehicle had torn through the facility just to run him over. It wasn't like a train or even a car, but it seemed similar to being in a head-on collision with a four-wheeler. Izuku's attack had left the man's suit untouched, minus his bracers. Those had cracks and green stains that looked irreparable. The man was rubbing his left wrist while walking with the slightest limp. His hair looked like he'd stuck his head out of a car like a dog.

When Izuku thought Endeavor would stop and speak to him, he was wrong. The man walked straight past him, not sparing him a glance as he got to the fridge and proceeded to down an entire water bottle at once. Unsure what to do, Izuku followed his lead and also took a bottle to drink. Letting Smokescreen pull air through his mouth without his active input dried out his throat. He took a small sip.

"A-are you ok, Mr. Todoroki?" Izuku asked, craning his neck to look at the man's windblown mane. Endeavor grunted.

"Good attack, kid. Could you do it again?"

"Not unless you want me to sleep for a week."

"Why? You're not tired, are you? You don't look worse for wear besides the heavy breathing."

"Well," Izuku started, "controlling the smoke is like using a mental muscle. I haven't been mentally powerlifting for very long, so manipulating the smoke is hard after controlling that much. Also, doing big emissions dries out my throat, and that hurts after a while."

Endeavor seemed to consider that information as he drank another whole water bottle.

The man ended up giving Izuku a break as the two sat together at the same table they'd made this agreement on last week. Together, they watched Nighteye grill Shoto about his own power and made him do demonstrations as well. The heterochromatic boy's talent entranced him; his strength was nothing to scoff at, and his control was way better than his. Izuku knew, logically, that Shoto must've been a powerhouse, but he hadn't seen it in action.

Of course, the boy wasn't a perfect prodigy, but he was good. His ice especially was well-controlled and considerate. Endeavor told him that he didn't use his fire as often as he should, but even so, the tiny flecks of flame that did escape the boy left no one worse for wear. Izuku could understand that. Big displays of power, especially ones that reminded him of his injury, were a bit of a turn-off.

Endeavor seemed on edge while Nighteye instructed Shoto, as if the man would somehow mess up. Even as Shoto smiled and thanked Nighteye, he seemed alarmed.

"He won't hurt Shoto, y'know. He's a v-very good teacher." Izuku said, quiet enough for only the flame hero to hear. The hulking mass of muscle at his side shifted.

"Of course. That isn't my concern…" Endeavor said. Izuku didn't challenge him on that, instead falling back into silence as they spectated the whole interaction.

It was Gran Torino's idea for them to do a mentor swap. Originally, Izuku was just going to demonstrate his power and drill alongside his friend, but upon telling Endeavor of the older man's idea, he jumped for it. Both the children would get more out of the individual session, and he would still get his curiosity sated.

It continued like that for a while, with Shoto sending barrages of ice spikes, walls, and overall difficult terrain Nighteye's way while the man slipped past, spun around, and evaded each attack. All the while, Shoto weathered the consistent flow of critiques with an odd smile on his face, like being outmaneuvered in every way was a pleasant experience. It was weird, but cool.

When they finished, Nighteye signaled Izuku to begin stretching. He didn't know why, but he was happy to. The room was quite chilly after Shoto's efforts, and the idea of warming up sounded great.

After stretching and throwing out a few experimental kicks, Nighteye fished out a tripod. A camera was plopped ontop of it, set up to point at Izuku. Endeavor watched the process, his eyes scrunched together.

"What's with the camera? I did not say you could film in my home." He said, grunting. Nighteye shook his head, throwing the man a small bow.

"Of course, but… you want our apprentices to spar, don't you? Filming Izuku's spars is a standard part of our process." Nighteye said.

"Fine, but it stays private."

"Of course, sir."

Izuku was borderline bouncing in place as he finished his stretches, nervous excitement sparking through his veins. He'd never sparred against someone his own age. His size, for sure, but not a peer. Gran Torino was his height, but the older man had literal decades of experience that made his fighting capacity closer to that of an average hero in their prime. That wasn't even considering his quirk, which escalated him into the upper echelon of combat heroes.

He kept himself warm for a few minutes while Shoto regained his breath and took deep sips from his water. His eyes trailed down Shoto's fire half as the boy got closer, intrigued as he realized the boy didn't warm up or stretch. In fact, now that he thought about it, the boy hadn't stretched or warmed up for Nighteye's evaluation either.

"Hey, does your warm side keep you loose? Do you not get stiff muscles?" Izuku asked. Shoto faltered.

"I… I guess? I don't put much thought into it." He said, casting a questioning glance at his father. Endeavor nodded, pushing off the wall he was leaning on to get next to Nighteye.

"We stretch to increase our flexibility. Our inner heat handles everything else."

Izuku filed that away for later, wondering if One for All could work in a similar way.

"Enough dilly-dallying. Time to test yourselves." Nighteye said, slipping the heat-vision lens over the camera's front and tapping a button.

"Show some restraint in your quirks, don't knock anyone's teeth out. All else is fair game." Endeavor said. "Begin."

Izuku whipped his head to the side as an ice spike the size of a traffic cone flew past his face. Light on his feet, he fluttered to the side, dodging and evading subsequent projectiles. He was careful never to get farther away. If he got too far, he knew he'd it'd be an uphill battle to get back in.

Shoto also seemed to understand that. Knowing Izuku was running empty on offense gave him the confidence to keep his distance. He started backing up, erecting ice barriers between them while launching his spikes from the comfort of his fortress. Izuku was hard-pressed to stay safe, but if he'd become good at anything in the last six months, it was dodging.

He let spikes get close before evading them by a hair's breadth, never once taking his eyes off his opponent. Jump over one, roll to the left, duck, spin, and ignore a couple; the boy's aim wasn't perfect, and it gave Izuku a free second to think every few volleys. It was a blessing, that extra time, but it was also a curse.

Shoto's visage warped like it would within circus mirrors. The light refracted in awkward and inaccurate ways through the boy's walls of ice, stretching, rending, and duplicating his appearance across several feet. It was frustrating to not be confident in the simplest aspect of fighting: knowing where your opponent was. Even if Izuku had his "Screw everything in that direction" Orb Attack, he wasn't confident it'd even hit, given how skewed Izuku's perception was.

Still, two could play at that game.

Loosening his jaw and flaring his nostrils, Izuku burst into a human smoke bomb, screwing Shoto's own ability to see. Dashing out of his growing cloud, trailing smoke like a comet in the atmosphere. His movements were jagged, uneven, and as physically obtuse as Izuku could manage. Shoto would know that the smoke's spearhead would be his body, so Izuku made sure to double back more than once, trying to be as unpredictable as possible.

The ice volleys increased dramatically, the spikes becoming larger and with less delay between the two, yet none touched him. Izuku always kept a small smoke tunnel open for his eyes, just to watch his opponent. He only abandoned the technique when he needed the absolute certainty of complete camouflage.

Izuku was in another cloud of his own creation as he heard a yell of frustration. A wall of ice, bigger than anything seen today, whipped past his body like a train. Lucky for him, it bludgeoned the decoy smokescreen. Not wasting another moment, Izuku used the moment Shoto needed to charge another attack to leap over one of the protective walls he'd erected earlier.

Shoto's uninjured eye widened as Izuku landed on him legs-first, slamming his left kneecap into the boy's fire shoulder. The boy hit the ground hard, Izuku rolling off him in a smooth motion. He kept his right side forward as always, but leaned further into his stance than normal. His knee stung; a brief glance told him that the pantleg was charred where it made contact with the boy.

Shoto groaned as he got to his feet, a suspiciously knee-sized blackened circle over his injured shoulder. Soot darkened the air as Shoto swiped at his ruined shirt. Settling into a low stance, Shoto stomped into the ground as ice burst out from below Izuku. Escaping meant sacrificing a sneaker, but Izuku was willing to make that trade.

Izuku was on the backfoot the second his feet touched the ground. Shoto sent two walls up on either of their sides, putting the two in a tight hallway. Without a sneaker and a bum knee, Izuku didn't have enough gusto to leap out the open top, nor the tools to face Shoto head-on.

Orange light flickered to life, the ice refracting it everywhere as Shoto raised a single hand, his posture straightening to an almost casual stance.

"Yield." He said, the dull glow in his hand beginning to grow more fierce. Izuku froze. It was obvious to him, by this point, that he'd essentially lost. He'd got a good hit in, but he'd been out-maneuvered and boxed it. Logically, as a training exercise, this is where he should let things end.

Still, a little voice in the back of his head urged him on. To fight, to try and salvage this. Izuku's blood, usually calm and regulated, began to burn. Goosebumps washed over his whole body just as his vision sharpened. He wanted to win. His body started to scream at him, egging him on, blood pounding in his ears louder and louder as his escape window grew ever more slender. His everything, body and soul, itched as one thought burst into existence, unbidden: He needed to win. A blinding discomfort burst into existence behind his eyes, but he cast away the pain. His heart pounding in his chest, he shifted his stance into one that ignored his bad knee. He shook his head.

"Sorry, pass." He took a step forward just as Shoto's burning hand exploded, a fireball firing in his direction. Izuku threw himself against the wall as a small, concentrated burst of Smokescreen shot out of his hands and blinded Shoto, sending the fireball off course.

Melting a hole into the wall, Izuku had the chance to escape and reengage later. It would be the smarter thing to do, the thing he would've normally jumped at before his adrenaline kicked up this high. Another part of him, however, this new, excited part that reminded him of something oddly familiar, told him otherwise.

Blinded, on a cool-down, and trapped in place by the walls of his own creation, Shoto was a sitting duck. Throwing caution to the wind, Izuku sprinted at the boy. He closed in just as Shoto's hand began to burn once again, but by then, Izuku thought it was too late. Putting everything into avoiding the glowing hand, Izuku threw a haymaker in Shoto's face.

For a brief, exhilarating second, his knuckles contacted Shoto's scar. Before the full force of his hit went through, however, something cold slammed into his left flank. Shoto's ice-encased fist sent him stumbling off the boy onto the floor, arm clutching his gut. Within a second, a jail of ice encased Izuku. Spit trickled out of his mouth as he gasped, trying and failing to pull air into his shocked lungs.

"Stop!" Endeavor roared, marching over to the two boys. A few seconds went by before Izuku could finally inhale, almost crying as the air tasted so good on his tongue. The cage melted around him as the flame hero got close, setting him free.

Izuku remained curled in a ball, nursing his aching gut. He listened as Endeavor dragged Shoto away and Nighteye approached, but no one bothered him for almost a minute before he got up himself, unsteady and awkward. Nighteye slipped a hand under his armpit and helped him walk over to the table where the Todorokis sat.

No one said anything as the two boys made eye contact, a small tension building up as the two continued to stare. Nighteye pushed up his glasses, looking away. Endeavor drummed his fingers on a table, a faraway look in his eyes. When it seemed no one would save him from speaking first, Izuku gave in.

"G-good punch, Shoto. Really hurt." Izuku said, turning his gaze to his aching stomach. Shoto wore a ghost of a smile as he hovered fingers over his scar.

"I can say the same to you. In all honesty, I hope you don't mind, but I never expected that much challenge from you. Really, you almost had me." Shoto said. Izuku gave him a weak smile, nodding. He understood; people built like him weren't usually the way he was. Endeavor grunted.

"For sure. Shoto, do not get too happy. You missed more than you landed, and you let frustration get the best of you. Still, you… didn't do awful. Nighteye?" Endeavor said, turning to the other hero. It was a mentor swap, after all, they both needed to give their input. There was a look in his eyes, however, that Izuku found to be crocodilian. Nighteye cleared his throat as he stopped fiddling with the camera.

"It was good of you to keep your distance, but Izuku, as he is now, isn't very physically impressive. Athletically, you still outstrip him, and that's not even considering his arm. Despite keeping your distance the whole fight, it ended in close quarters anyways. I recommend more hand-hand training. One thing I must compliment you on was your diversion towards the end. You grabbed Izuku's attention with a glowing fist on purpose, didn't you?"

"Sort of, sir. It was sloppy since I was blind. I couldn't tell if he fell for it or not, or even if he was even coming at first. The diversion was on purpose, but the fact that it worked at all was just a happy accident." Shoto said.

"Wasn't so happy for me, y'know?" Izuku muttered, before blushing as everyone turned to him. Shoto's passive face bloomed into a smile, a small chortle escaping him. Endeavor gave him the opposite look.

"It shouldn't have even been that close, boy. You had Shoto by the balls from the beginning, and even when he cornered you, you could've outmaneuvered him." Endeavor said, crossing his arms. Nighteye nodded.

"Indeed. No offense to Shoto, but Izuku manipulated the fight to his advantage very well. You might've even been able to finish him after the first hit had you not hesitated, or the second if Shoto hadn't gotten lucky. You got ahead of yourself towards the end, though. Like Icarus and the Sun. You know better than anyone that leaving your flank open like that is not an option. We're going to need to double down on your sparring if you're still pretending like you have a left arm." Nighteye said. Izuku winced, locking his gaze on the table. That was harsh, but maybe not unwarranted. He'd definitely gotten sloppy towards the end.

"The ending wasn't even the most egregious part. Your quirk usage was mediocre at best. It may be used primarily for support and cover, but you've already proven you've learned to bend it to fill other roles in a fight as well. Why didn't you?" Endeavor asked. Locking eyes with the number one hero, Izuku felt a spike of annoyance.

"I couldn't! I already showed you my best attack earlier, and you know I can't just use those willy-nilly. I was stuck with just diversion and stealth for that whole thing." Izuku said.

At this, Endeavor scrunched his brow, leaning forward in his chair. Shoto inched his chair away from his father. Nighteye adjusted his tie.

"Don't patronize me, brat. I have forgotten nothing. What is frustrating me is your lack of imagination. Why weren't you propelling?" Endeavor said, almost growling. Izuku fidgeted in his seat.

"Propelling?"

At this question, Endeavor paused, eyes widening. Like a panning camera, he turned towards Nighteye, his posture now lax and tranquil, like a candle. His eyes told a different story, however; his eyes were burning, raging like the flames of a cremating fire.

"Have you not taught him how to propel?" He asked, voice quiet. Nighteye looked almost as confused as Izuku felt.

"I… uhm, no, I have not. Would you mind explaining, please?" Nighteye asked, more nervous than he'd ever sounded. Endeavor continued to stare at the man, expression blank but for a single twinkle in his eye. Long, slow seconds passed before he exhaled.

"You can not be serious. I refuse to believe a man of your caliber had overlooked such… such a fundamental ability of our emitter subclass. Lord… brat." He said, turning to Izuku. "Question. How do I fly?"

Izuku's racing mind slowed down.

"You… you expel your flames downwards like rocket thrusters. The downward force exceeds gravity." He said while Endeavor nodded.

"Now how do I move so fast? Hint, my constitution only extends to heat tolerance. I'm no stronger than a normal man, just more durable."

"You expel your flames to the sides. The opposite direction you're moving. You can punch so hard because you push your flames out your elbows. Your kicks come from the flames on your heels. You… Oh."

Izuku's mind ground to a halt and stayed like that for a long while.

[x]

The car ride home was awkward and silent, for the most part. Of course, Izuku was too busy holding on for dear life to speak anyways. For a long while, the only sounds were the dull hum of the AC and the occasional metal twang as he shifted gears. It was calm, serene, even. The ideal driving conditions.

The noon sun was high in the sky, casting a comfortable shade on the driver's seat. Pedestrians seemed to have better things to do; Nighteye didn't even see one jaywalker. Even if he did, he wouldn't bother to pull over for it. Sure, he'd send them a stern glance, but today had drained all the energy out of the typical stickler.

Propelling wasn't some foreign concept to Nighteye, but it had slipped his mind. Slipped his mind! He supposed blaming himself was illogical; neither he nor All Might had such a spartan emitter quirk, so he wasn't familiar with it. Gran Torino, per his request, had taken somewhat of a backseat in Izuku's training. Perhaps, had the older man involved himself more, this wouldn't have happened, but he doubted it. Nighteye was regretting that now.

Embarrassment had never gripped him harder in life, bar nothing. Of course, he'd lived a long life of shameful, embarrassing mistakes. It was normal. Your first kiss is awkward. Maybe you get pantsed in grade school. Maybe you stall out in an intersection, or you get caught in the school closet with your girlfriend. All of it paled in comparison to this oversight.

Propelling wasn't even important, in the grand scheme of things. With the potential strength of All Might at his fingertips, Izuku wouldn't need the additional speed or strength propelling granted emitters. Taking the time to learn it could even be counterproductive; taking time away from learning more useful things could be a waste once Izuku became proficient in One for All. It could render the time spent useless.

Even considering all of that, however, it still felt like a mistake. Izuku wouldn't be ready to touch the superstrength aspect of his quirk for at least three years, let alone train it. The boy needed to get further along with puberty, and then he needed to weight train. There was a mountain of time between now and then. Then, he'd need to re-learn how to fight at high speeds, a tall order itself. That wasn't considering how his time would divide once he got into U.A. Izuku needed time, more than they had. Still…

Maybe propelling wouldn't be useless. Perhaps it was a good thing to be made into a fool in front of the number one hero. Even if propelling would eventually become obsolete, the lessons learned in mastering it wouldn't be. More precise quirk control, greater quirk strength, and even a dip into the world of highspeed combat were reasonable results of learning the skill.

He sighed; that was another problem. Neither Nighteye nor Gran Torino were good teachers for propelling. Sorahiko would be better, but would still fall short. It was just a fundamental truth of their quirks and experience.

Traditional emitters like Endeavor and Izuku grew rarer and rarer each year as quirks grew more complicated. Eventually, they'd probably die out. Of course, Izuku wasn't exactly traditional, but Smokescreen was. If only the boy could just ask the original user. He couldn't, however, so he was back to square one, with a single candidate that made his insides squirm to think about.

Facing Endeavor after today's embarrassment would take more grit, courage, and tenacity than he'd ever needed. Not going to his girlfriend's house before U.A.'s big dance, not his first real hero mission, not even assisting All Might in his war against All for One compared. Thinking of asking Endeavor for more help left his gut churning and head aching. If he didn't find a better option soon, he'd have to settle for it, though. Izuku's growth came before his pride.

"What did you think of Endeavor, sir?" Izuku asked, eyes still following the outline of the buildings slipping past. As a kid, Nighteye had often pretended to see incredible parkour runners jumping from rooftop to rooftop. Knowing the way modern heroes liked to showboat, Izuku might be seeing the real version.

"Well," Nighteye started, thumb rubbing agitated circles into the gearstick, "He seemed knowledgeable and informative, if not a bit gruff. I've worked with him in the past; he seemed… more mellow, now. I think we all are."

The window on Izuku's side rolled down a bit, sending a warm gust through the car that ruffled Nighteye's neat hair. He didn't mind too much.

"You saw how he was glaring at you? Like he was going to eat you if you turned away for too long." Izuku said, his voice muffled by the roar of wind in his ears. His thumb's circles slowed to a stop.

"Indeed. He seemed on edge. I wouldn't know why." Nighteye said. Silence lapsed between them after that, returning the vehicle to tired silence. There was nothing else to say. Nighteye's thoughts wandered to his growing backlog of paperwork, and where Izuku's training would take them next. He didn't expect any more words to be shared between them, but when they were, he could only just make them out over the open window.

"He seemed surprised Shoto was smiling when you were beating him."

[x]

AN: So it took an absolute monster load of calls, emails, and stress, but I've retrieved a lot of the eragon docs. They were walled behind an admin block, which has been temporarily lifted so I can duplicate the files. Been giddy thinking of a good time to just read through them. I wonder if they're any good? It's been a long few months, so I wouldn't know. I started the project almost a year ago now, and a lot (not much) has changed. Chapter seventeen is written and done, and while it was a total slog, it was fun to write. I'm thinking of either taking a break at 100K or the start of the school arc, whether that would be U.A. or my personal community college arc lmfao.

Review! I want to have more reviews than Talent Unrivaled by the time I catch up to it view-wise. It is a PJ fanfic, so that'll be hard, but with the dramatic increase in quality this has, it's pretty doable.