After lunch, Sensei does exactly what he promised, and kicks me out to the lobby in what he claims as time to 'bond' with my peers. Somehow, I doubt Vlad's version was quite so open-ended. I sigh, but do it anyway, annoyed that he won't let me just hang out in my room.

Of course not… that would be too easy.

And of course, my classmates notice the moment I creep into a corner. They're like flies.

And they start buzzing curiously closer.

"Ooooh! Rin-chan! Whatcha doin'?" Toru asks excitedly, her shorts and t-shirt wiggling as she dances over.

"Reading," I grumble, cell phone out and the article about Kaito still visible on my screen. Silently I wonder why she's even here. Doesn't she have something to do?

"About?"

"Stuff."

I glower when she huffs, pressing back and scrolling through the other search results. Asp Unmasked. Quirkless Villain or terrorist? Japan's Top Quirkless Criminals. I think she crosses her arms, but it's hard to tell since they're, you know, invisible.

But when she doesn't take the hint and her clothes just sort of lingers, I pause and cast her a dry stare.

"Yes?"

Kaminari, nearby, snickers and wanders over.

"Hey, Rin-chan! Finally being social?"

"No," I scowl, clicking on the terrorist article only to click away quickly when it turns out to be a social media site. Wasn't there a polite version of 'go away'? "I'm busy."

"Heh, I dunno. You sound pretty chatty to me!" he laughs, taking a seat at the table beside me. His chair leans back automatically and, secretly, I hope it falls. "What's it about?"

I consider responding 'your mama.'

Shinsou would be proud.

But would they go away?

"Yo! Anyone out here wanna play a game?" shouts Kirishima from the elevator as it dings. I twitch when the red-head squawks in excitement at us.

No.

I sink in my chair and groan.

"Rin-chan!"

Snatching up my phone, I glare at all three of them and stomp to a different corner, feeling their eyes as I take a spot on the floor by the window, that's hopefully below eye level.

"Oi, what's her problem?" I hear Toru grumble.

"C'mon man," Kirishima laughs awkwardly. "You know she's, uh… shy. Let's just leave her alone, she'll come over when she's ready."

"She didn't look too shy around Purple," Kaminari complains.

I let off a forbidden wave of shadows, feeling them dance through my hair, and condense above me. I sneer when all three squeak, drawing the shadows back in when they finally retreat. I turn and focus on my phone then, my attention devoted completely to the task at hand.

Everyone has a file. All of them are classified and can only be accessed by individuals with the correct clerance.

I return to the search and stare at it for a long moment.

Who has access to files?

Too vague.

The page loads millions of results about shared files and how to access them remotely. I wrinkle my nose, trying to think of how to be more specific.

Who can access criminal files?

Government personnel.

I click one of the links and stare a the list. Prosecutors, Law Enforcement, Heroes, and team members on a case.

I stare at the Heroes label.

I...

Did that mean I could access it?

I cradle my head and sigh, the steady laughter of my classmates wearing at my focus and nerves. I can hear Kirishima and the others at the tv, their laughter explosive and random as they cheer and shout over some odd fighting game. Midoriya and Iida, closer, are just as distracting, short snippets of their conversation drifting over even as Iida randomly interjects with sharp movements that catch my eye.

I close my eyes, their noisiness such a sharp contrast to the quiet months with Sensei.

It reminds me of the Last One.

And for a moment, I can imagine it as it used to be. My classmates' voices swallowed in the memories of my housemates. Yui-san's sour voice cutting through the chaos, Kagura-nee-chan's livid shouts. The smell of mildew in my sheets, the roughness of Nikko's trunks at my neck.

I frown, tears growing under my eyelids, as the ghost of Shin's voice echoes in my ear.

"What, you want us to watch you? You're so full of-"

I can still remember those last days, with Yui-san ignoring me fully and Niko's constant harassment. That stupid video from the Sports Festival on constant repeat, and Niko's obnoxious shouts of Nightmare.

Hero? That's no hero!

"Shut up," I snarl, rolling over onto my back and glaring at the ceiling.

Todoroki, walking by with a bowl of food, blinks and pauses, offering me a weird look.

I sneer when he doesn't immediately keep moving.

"What are you looking at?" I snap.

"You. Who are you talking to?" he asks, clearly not intimidated. I bar my teeth.

"Myself."

He blinks again and shrugs.

"Oh."

I sit up and stare at his back, annoyed as he shuffles over to the couch, bowl in hand and feet folding under him. He doesn't look back and instead concentrates on what looks like a bowl of cold Soba. Sitting alone.

I scowl, hating the painful scratching in my chest.

I cross my arms, swallowing the stupid tears.

You'll never hear Yui-san again.

She's dead.

Pronounced dead February 23

Probable cause: heart attack

I rise steadily, shoving the thoughts away as I physically push myself up to my feet. I glare once more at the boy before stomping towards the door.

I hate this. I hate them.

I don't need any stupid classmates. I don't need anyone! I never have before!

What's the point when they always leave?

I snarl as I step into the courtyard, tears burning in my eyes, and swipe at the excess running down my cheek. I want to form shadows, want to rake them through the grass and dirt. I want to pretend like I'm back at the group home and not this stupid dorm full of idiots.

They're gone…

Why Kaito?

I kick the dirt, the cooler afternoon breeze sharp against my face.

It's nice.

Outside, they sound so much more muffled, like a tv at half volume. Outside, I can pretend like none of it's real.

He's going to come for them.

Worrying about that isn't logical.

The only thing you and your classmates can do is train and support each other.

I sink to my feet and sigh, hating the buzz of energy under my skin. Fear swirls with something stronger, and I stare off at the setting sun miserably, watching the sky turn. The way the clouds settle and pink and the way the darkness creeps in, it looks like the sun is drowning in the horizon—clawing at the infinite blue as shadows engulf everything.

I watch it silently, eyes aching.

"H-Hoki-chan?"

I don't look up at the familiar voice. Midoriya.

"What?"

There's a rustle as he creeps closer, as he settles beside me.

"Is… Is it the noise?"

I blink and frown, eyes drifting towards him. He doesn't look back, large green eyes locked on the horizon.

I wonder what he sees.

The way his freckles reflect the last of the sun's golden glow, I can't help but think it's not the same. Lips pulled into a thoughtful frown and hair a mess of green so dark it almost seems black.

"Yes."

He nods, lips curling into something reassuring.

He has dimples.

I don't know that I've ever noticed.

Will Kaito take away this too?

The tears burn as I turn away, lips trembling. I don't want him to die. I don't dare open my mouth, too afraid of the sob currently creeping up my throat.

"If… If you wanna talk, you know… you know we're friends, right? You… You don't have to just rely on Shinsou-kun or Aizawa-sensei."

I swallow and sink further into my knees.

"I... yeah," I whisper.

Midoriya lets out a quiet noise.

"I… uh… good! I…. that is, um… nevermind," he mumbles suddenly incoherently. "I'm gonna train!"

I watch as he stands, face suddenly red, and hurries several meters away. It takes him a moment to get started, his voice lost under the wind in my ears. But, eventually, he stops fooling around and starts kicking.

It looks like Iida's, just less… refined.

I relax when he focuses completely on it, as if forgetting I was there, and instead just watch as he works. The thoughts that had plagued me so thoroughly since lunch finally quieting.

He's… resolute. Or maybe persistent?

Stubborn, I decide a moment later when he tries a kick Yamada-sensei would have fussed at me for. His form is terrible.

"You need to keep your back straight," I correct him after his fourth attempt, unable to stop myself.

He nearly falls over, and I crack a smile as he immediately erupts into mumbling.

"I-I-I do?"

I nod and watch him try again, back straight but strung so tight that he looks ready to break. I wonder if I should say something.

When he tries again and still fails, I reluctantly stand.

"Like this," I tell him, walking closer and taking up my stance. I go slowly, the way Yamada-sensei would, and exaggerate all the parts he's missing. When I finish, I wait for him to try. He stares and then jumps with a start when I raise my eyebrow.

"Oh! Uh, s-s-sorry!"

I manage a small smile.

He flushes and then does the kick again. When he follows through and stands, he blinks in surprise. I'm not really sure why, Yamada-sensei's a great fighter.

"T-that was better!" He turns and grins, expression lighting up in boyish delight. "Thank you Hoki-chan!"

"Rin," I correct, moving back to my spot. I sink back down, but this time lighter.

I watch quietly as he practices the moves, making short comments every once in a while, and watching curiously as he accepts and uses them. By the time Sensei texts me for dinner, I almost don't want to leave.

Strange.

.

.

.

"I looked at your Hero Drawing," Sensei says later that night at dinner. "The design isn't bad, but you will need to take into consideration the material of your uniform. The first time you put in for your hero outfit, you were written as having a shadow quirk. I've already updated it in the system, but your selection of fabric will now be limited to those that are more tear-resistant and fire retardant. You'll burn away your clothes otherwise."

I blink and he scratches his whiskey chin with a sigh.

"Like I did in the forest?"

He frowns immediately.

"Yes."

"Bakugou gave me his shirt," I tell him quietly. Sensei nods, though he looks no happier.

"I'm aware. It doesn't change the fact that you are more limited in options. Most fabrics that are fire retardant are thicker and more expensive. Not all, but most agencies that support you tend to cut costs by providing you with tighter fits, especially for females. Your support company is notorious for it. If you order baggy pants, they will send you something that looks more like Hizashi's."

I pout.

That… doesn't seem right.

"Why?"

"Most believe that creating sexier images will attract more individuals. I'm not really sure why you picked them to support you anyways, they're ratings were mediocre at best and they have a history of creating defective products."

"I… I just checked a box," I admit, shrugging.

Sensei looks less than impressed.

"Of course you did," he scowls, pinching his nose. "Did you even put any thought into your uniform?"

No.

"Uh... Not really," I mumble, rubbing my neck. I'd really just checked off some boxes, marking that I wanted it dark so as not to seriously stand out.

"Don't do that again. This is your career. You either need to take it seriously or find a different one."

I flush, but nod, pulling at my fingers.

He sighs and rubs his neck.

"Even if you were to have this designed today, the updated uniform will only barely make it before the exams," Sensei says, finishing up his dinner. "If you want, though, there are some small logical changes you can make now to make it more appropriate. Your vest, for example, will be constantly in the way of your wings if you keep it. But discarding it means you'll need an alternative to hold any miscellaneous supplies. I have an old utility belt from when I first started hero work that should fit you if you want it."

I blink in surprise.

"I… Your… Your old belt? You… I-I can wear it?"

Sensei just stares back.

"I wouldn't offer otherwise."

My eyes water.

He scowls.

"Rin, it's an old and scuffed up belt."

"B-But you're letting me wear it…"

Sensei looks at me like I've lost my mind.

"It's a belt."

I sniffle, lip trembling.

"Th-th-thank you!"

He snorts and rises with his plate, ignoring my sniffles to go rinse away his plate. I watch him go silently, chest full of an emotion I can't quite name. Fondness? Thanks.

I love you.

Is this what family is?

Is this what ours was supposed to be?

"Have you done your homework for Tulutho-san?"

I shake my head, before realizing he probably can't see it.

"No."

"You'll need to finish that before you do anything else. I'll clean the dishes. Go grab some paper and get started."

"I... yes, sir."

That isn't quite what I want, but I don't argue. Instead, rising, I bring my plate over and press a kiss against his cheek before retreating back to my room. The sound of dishes rattling follows as I go, and I grab some paper and pens and a clipboard too. Pushing it all together under the clip and returning to the couch.

"Sensei!" I whine, slumping over and glowering. "Come on!"

He snorts, sink full of suds, and turns on the water.

"In a moment."

I sigh dramatically.

"You can start without me," he says dryly.

"But I need my pillow," I giggle, patting the couch. "You promised."

"You have three on your bed."

I laugh and curl on my end, resting my head on the arm of the couch and bending my knees to rest the clipboard there. I write across the top GOALS.

And then I stare, mind drawing a blank.

Each day, I would like you to dream of things, no matter how outlandish, and record them each night. Do you wish to fly? Write it down. Do you wish to go bowling? Create your list. Try a new recipe, learn a new move, develop a new skill. There is no limit, it is not the quantity that matters, but the quality of these dreams, find things important to you—that is what matters.

A new recipe?

I pull out my phone, smiling at Shinsou's text, and pulling up the internet.

Recipes

I switch over to images and blink at the large variety of food, overwhelmed by the millions of results.

Maybe something else?

I clear the search and type in fighting moves. The results that appear at the top include some article titled "The 9 dirtiest and most effective hand-to-hand combat moves." I click it curiously, amused at the pictures included. The illustration of what looks like a teddy bear doing the moves making me smile.

Eye gouge. Throat punch. Stomps to the groin or knee…

I drop the phone on my chest and look curiously at Sensei.

"Would you teach me dirty moves?"

Sensei, currently rinsing out the skillet, stills, his eyes narrowing as they cut to me faster than normal.

"Excuse me?"

I scratch my cheek at his rather poignant stare.

"Uh… the nutcracker choke?"

"Rin, the point of this is to come up with goals for your future. Why are you asking about dirty fighting techniques? And you already know how to do that, it's where you roll your fist in someone's neck."

I make a soft noise.

"Oh!"

"Rin, goals."

"I am!" I huff even as I wrinkle my nose. "I just don't know what to put. She said something about flying and recipes, but I already have wings and I don't know what to cook. You don't eat anything besides chicken and vegetables anyway. So I'm looking up fighting moves! Midoriya was learning kicks today from Iida, but Yamada-sensei already taught me those. Sensei, why hasn't All Might taught him those kicks? I thought you said he was his teacher, but he isn't a very good one-"

"Rin."

I scowl at his warning tone and fold my arms.

"I'm just saying."

"I'm sure," Sensei says as he pulls the drain. A loud squelching noise fills the room before he runs the water and dries his hands. He sighs as he joins me on the couch, and I immediately move to lay against his thighs, smiling up at his chin. "We're not discussing All Might, we're discussing you. What are your goals?"

I sigh and pick up my phone, typing in the google search list of goals.

Sensei grumbles and immediately plucks it from my hand.

"Hey!"

"The internet doesn't have all the answers," he says sourly. "Just start with things you want for your future."

"I don't know," I snap, annoyed that he's not getting it. "If I knew I'd be done."

"Tone, Rin," he says tapping my forehead with his fingers. I fight the urge to bite them. "Start with the things you do know. You want to be a hero, what kind?"

I remember this discussion.

Aunt Nemuri had mentioned it in the car on the way to the beach.

You already know you want to be a hero, but what kind? Thirteen specializes in natural disasters, I specialize in capture, Shouta works alone as an underground hero, and Hizashi does just about everything.

"You're an underground hero," I say, thinking back to Aunt Nemuri's words.

"Yes," Sensei replies shortly, fingers automatically moving through my hair.

"Then I wanna be like you," I tell him decisively, leaning back to stare at his chin.

"That isn't how this works," Sensei huffs, though I don't miss his small smile. It makes something in my chest flutter and warm. "You need to consider the different aspects of each and decide which one fits you better. Analyze your own strengths and weaknesses."

I glower.

"You know, she didn't say anything about doing all this," I tell him sourly. "She only asked for a list."

"A thoughtless list is a waste of paper and time," Sensei says in his teacher voice. "Now tell me your strengths."

"I don't know! Aren't you the teacher, shouldn't you know it?"

"Of course I do. But this is your assignment, not mine. I'm giving you a logical way to come up with these items. Now stop stalling and answer the question."

I roll over, annoyed, and press my ear to his thigh.

"I… I'm not as strong or fast as Shinsou."

"Strengths Rin."

"I don't know! I can destroy things!"

"That's one," Sensei says. When he stares at me patiently, I groan.

"Sensei…" I try again. "I really don't know."

He sighs, how rude, with fingers still dancing through my hair.

"You are powerful. Easily one of the most powerful in your year," he says flatly. "In terms of raw power, you are matched with Todoroki and Bakugou. However, unlike both of them, your quirk allows you more flexibility. You have access to shadows, flames, and light wings, which each gives you secondary benefits, such as maneuverability in the air or non-lethal capture. You have both long and short-ranged attacks, defensive and offensive capabilities, and a benefit of becoming more powerful as you get more emotional. In terms of categorizing you, typically, someone with your power set would be most suited as a front-line fighter, not an underground one."

"Front line?" I ask, not really understanding.

Sensei's smile turns wiry.

"Like All Might."

I scowl and cross my arms, expression turning thunderous.

"No."

"I said your quirk, not you," Sensei repeats, though I can hear the humor in his voice. It makes me want to growl. "You've said in the past that you're more interested in protecting and helping others. There are several support roles you could do well in. There are rescue heroes for hostages, natural disasters, and villain attacks. There are support heroes who team up with others in order to provide backup and to protect either bystanders or the heroes. If you're willing to put the work in, you could also take up a position as a healer."

"A healer?" I ask, eyes widening. "But I don't have a healing quirk!"

"Neither did anyone else for thousands of years," he says with a shrug. "Healing quirks are rare but being able to do more than provide basic first aid in the field is a widely desired skill. It would also require extra certificates."

I blink.

"Certificates?"

Sensei glowers and gives me a long-suffering look.

"We discussed all of this at the beginning of school," he says sourly. I flush, opening my mouth to apologize, but he moves on. "Certificates are the add-ons you can apply for from the hero commission that give you certain rights and responsibilities. First Aid isn't a hero-level course, but there are hero-leveled options that range from battlefield medicine to surgery and emergency foster care."

I frown.

"What do you have?" I ask, curiously.

His expression splits into that stupid smile and I scowl.

"More than you."

"Really?" I growl, pulling myself up to sit. "I was just curious."

"There's a list of certificates available on the Hero Commission's website. They're broken down by licensing for students in training, those with provisional licenses, and professionals by field. Write it down so you don't forget and you can research what you're interested in later."

I do, quickly scribbling a note in the corner.

Healing, I write below that.

"Thank you-"

"We're not done," Sensei says smirking as I make to stand. Reaching out, he grabs my shoulder and pulls me back down. "You can come up with two not hero-related items now."

"I… seriously? B-But I thought I was going to research!"

"Later," he shrugs, throwing his arm behind the couch and smirking. "If you could do two things for yourself, what would they be?"

I groan and throw myself on the couch.

"Sensei whhhhyyyyy!" I drag out.

He snorts, leaning forward to play with Miska who had wandered over at the noise.

"You're being dramatic."

I kick his arm.

He catches it on reflex and then grins. And pulls. I squeal as he drags me effortlessly across the cushions.

"Sensei!"

"Don't kick people."

I open my mouth only to promptly erupt in loud, unrestrained laughter as his fingers attack my sides, tickling me mercilessly.

"S-S-Sen-"

"Are you going to kick people?"

He lets me go long enough for me to gasp for breath.

"Yes!" I snarl.

He barks out a laugh, the sound strange, before his fingers return with a vengeance. I kick desperately, trying to get away, and, after several seconds, he lets me. I scuttle to my side of the couch and try to catch my breath, glaring.

"Sensei!"

He shakes his head, lips still caught in a smile, and stretches before sliding to the floor. Legs crossed, he coaxes Miska from the cat tower to his lap. She purrs and makes several passes beneath his hand.

"Rin," he repeats, somehow managing to sound both amused and exasperated. "Kid, this isn't a hard question. If you could do anything today, what would it be? It doesn't require all this thought, just tell me the first thing that comes to your mind."

I huff, and at his look, sigh.

"I don't know... the movies?" I grumble, trying to come up with something. "Or a… a festival, I guess? B-But not an All Might festival! Once, I saw a picture of the cherry blossom festival, and it looked really pretty. But, the ocean looked pretty and it was awful, so maybe not…"

"You're a little late for the cherry blossoms," Sensei interrupts wryly. "Why the movies?"

"I've never been," I admit leaning over and sprawling out behind him on the couch. I reach out and immediately undo his hair, almost hearing his thoughts. Touchy child. It makes me smile as I rake my fingers through the soft waves. "Kagura-nee-chan used to go there on her dates, but I've never had friends like that and if Mama ever took me, I don't remember it. But Nee-chan used to talk about how they sell popcorn that sticks to your mouth and how the screen took up an entire wall! She said the sound was so loud you could feel it in your bones!"

Sensei is quiet for a long moment, so I begin to braid back the strands. As usual, they want to slip away.

"Do you like movies?" he asks, turning his head slightly and raising an eyebrow.

"Not the scary ones," I tell him wrinkling my nose. "But there were these ones that Nee-chan made me watch with her where two people would meet and by the end would kiss and like each other. They were nice. They made Nee-chan smile."

I smile down at him and he thumps his head lazily onto the couch.

I giggle at his disgusted expression.

"You like romance," he says sighing. "Lovely."

.

.

.

Friday and Saturday pass in much the same manner as Thursday only without a therapy session to interrupt. Mornings are spent training with Aunt Nemuri, fighting to get control of my quirk, and jumping from cliffs of various heights to try and glide. The afternoons feel just as awkward, kicked out by Sensei to "bond" with my classmates. I usually manage about two hours on some task or another (math worksheets, my new hero uniform, or Tulutho's assignment) until their racket gets in my head and I end up retreating out to the courtyard. That, I think, is my favorite time, besides my quiet evenings with Sensei.

I sit unobtrusively in the grass, the boisterous chatter of my classmates muffled by brick and mortar as I watch Iida and Midoriya practice.

They're fascinating to watch. Without the distractions of others, I can see their little tics, the way Midoriya bites his lip and Iida favors one leg. The rhythm of their conversations and the simple way they tease each other.

It reminds me of Shinsou.

For some reason that's strange.

I… didn't know they were close friends.

But, I can also see their weaknesses, the way Midoriya always lands unbalanced at the end of his kicks and Iida's wide-open back.

I twist a piece of grass and consider telling them.

Excuse me? You need to fix this.

But is that rude? Do I add a transition? How do you transition to that?

Hey, so I noticed you were both practicing-

"That's stupid," I mumble, shredding the grass and pulling up a clover. Of course, I noticed they were practicing. I'm sitting right here.

Then, hey?

What would you do if it were Shinsou?

Shinsou doesn't leave his back open like that… And Sensei fixed his kicks ages ago. Why hasn't All Might-

"Fucker," I snarl, wrinkling my nose and pulling off all the leaves. A flash of heat rises, and I toss the stupid clover to the ground. It's probably his fault. He should be a better teacher!

I remember Toshinori's surprised face, his kind blue eyes, and pick a new plant, tearing it apart in seconds.

Liar.

Fine. I just won't say anything.

But if Kaito…

Damn it! Why am I always so bad at this?

"Hoki-chan?" Iida interrupts, immediately drawing my ire. He straightens his glasses and wipes the sweat from his head. "Are… Do you want me to get Sensei?"

I glower.

"No," I snap. "I don't- I don't always need him!"

Both boys blink, eyes wide, and I scowl, breathing deeply.

"B-But y-you were smoking," Midoriya points out. I glance towards my arm and glare at the thin curls of smoke rising from my skin. It thickens before I force the anger uncomfortably back down. "A-Are you angry?"

"I'm always angry," I tell him sourly, grabbing a yellow-flowered weed. I focus on tearing apart its petals. "You're off balance at the end."

Midoriya nearly falls over and I scowl.

Stupid transitions.

Iida, still looking concerned, frowns.

"Is that it? He's got all of the individual forms right!" the taller boy says.

"He keeps landing on his toes instead of his heels," I reply grumpily, giving up on the flower and just folding up my legs. "It's making him off balance."

The green-haired boy scratches his neck and laughs.

"Oh! Thanks!"

Iida, eyebrows still furrowed, steps back and gestures for the boy to do it again. I watch, eyes following his movement, and nod when he does it again.

"She's right."

I scowl at the surprise in his voice and shoot them both a look.

"I'm not stupid," I tell him sourly.

"Of- Of course not!" Iida replies immediately, his eyes going wide as his hands immediately start chopping furiously in front of him. "I wasn't saying that at all! Please don't take it that way, I was merely surprised-"

"That I can see where he's landing," I snap irritably.

"No! That you noticed his weakness so quickly!" Iida says looking hurt.

"You've been showing him the same moves for the last fifteen minutes," I remind him darkly. There's nothing quick about that. I shove myself to my feet and do the same kick, taking the time to emphasize every stance slowly like the way Yamada-sensei showed me.

Midoriya's expression turns thoughtful and a steady stream of mumbles begins to spill from his lips. Iida's eyes widen.

"That was AMAZING!" the blue-haired boy shouts, eyes wide as he begins clapping loudly. I grimace, but he either doesn't notice or doesn't care. "Did you learn that just now?"

"Yamada-sensei taught me," I say.

"Yamada-"

"Present Mic," I interrupt, watching the confusion clear.

"Oh!" he says, eyes watering. "I understand now! Present Mic and my brother, Ingenium, worked together for a while at the same agency!"

I stare blankly back.

"Oh."

I have no idea who Ingenium is or why he was working with my godfather. I make a mental note to ask Sensei about it later though. Then, not really sure what to say, I shrug and return awkwardly to my spot. Midoriya, taking this as his cue, tries the kick slower like I did.

"That… That's much better!" Iida says, his mood clearing away nearly instantly as he grins. I expect him to move on, but he turns to me with that same smile, his glasses gleaming. "Hoki-chan, you're such an excellent teacher!"

I flush and shrink, feeling my face burn at his praise.

"I… Th-thanks."

"Do it again Midoriya-kun and maybe Hoki-chan will help me show you a spin kick!"