That night, I don't sleep well. I wake frequently, haunted by dreams and thoughts of Kaito, of Mama, of Sensei throwing back shots at a too-familiar table.

Hands digging into too-soft sheets and eyes watering in a darkened room.

It takes too long to catch my breath.

Just a dream…

Exhausted after the third one, I slip out from beneath the covers. The bathroom floor is cold beneath my socks, the lights too bright. The girl in the mirror stares back with red-rimmed eyes. I take in her dark hair and too full cheeks, at the strange softness to Mama's jaw and openness of Kaito's eyes.

You think he was abused?

I splash water on my face and try to chase away the thoughts.

Instead, I pad towards the living room, frowning at Miska seated strangely in front of the apartment door. The scent of freshly made coffee soothing in the silence. Sensei's favorite bowl perched at the edge of the counter.

Something wiggles in the back of my mind.

It takes too long to realize what's missing.

Sensei.

Straightening, I breathe deeply and furrow my brows.

Why was he not drinking the coffee he clearly made?

More than that, why was he not fussing that I was wandering around? Normally, the moment he heard running water he would be out, arms crossed and glowering. Go to bed. I glance towards the bathroom and his open door.

"S-Sensei?" I croak.

The silence alone is enough to make my chest squeeze.

"Sensei?" I ask again, louder this time, wavering slightly with panic. I don't walk so much as stride quickly through the hall, sliding through Sensei's open door with more energy than entirely necessary.

It's empty.

His hero uniform laid out on the bed, a pile of papers laid out on his desk beside his too bright computer. I frown at the work, only half completed on his desktop.

I focus on Sensei's uniform, still crumpled on the bed and the distinct lack of capture weapon.

Somethings wrong…

I don't really consider what I'm doing. Turning sharply, I'm at the front door before I can even think. Shadows unfurling under too-tight skin, it's unlocked. The wrongness hits me immediately, the door is unlocked. Sensei never forgets to lock it.

I jerk it open and shake. Stumbling into the lobby, darkness flickers at my fingertips.

If it's Kaito…

The lights normally bright and cheery are clearly dimmed, the empty green chairs arranged haphazardly. No signs of a fight. It's not enough, I stalk around the edges of the room, body tight as I try to move soundless. The light from the kitchen spill out into the lobby, and as I approach, I can hear the muffled noises.

"Sit still."

"Fuck!"

It's Sensei's annoyed baritone that finally calms the rapid pace of my heart.

He's okay…

Shadows dispersing, I rub at my eyes and breathe.

"Sensei?"

There's a distinct pause as I shuffle towards the kitchen, almost like a sudden breath, and when I finally pass close enough to peer inside, I can't help but blink. Midoriya and Bakugou seated on two wooden stools. Bloody lips and a blackened eye. A patch of skin rubbed raw against Bakugou's head. A burn shining on Midoriya's cheek.

I…

I stare at the injuries, mind whirling, locked in place.

"Rin," Sensei growls, dark eyes narrowed as he turns, almost bodily towards me. "What are you doing awake? Go to bed."

I don't move.

They didn't look like that before-

"What… what happened?" I manage. Maybe it's the lack of sleep, maybe it's the nightmares I'd only just awoken from. It comes out smaller than I meant. I stare at Midoriya's visible, purpling shoulder and shake. He hadn't been at the exam. Was this him? "Did… Kaito…?"

Sensei, strangely enough, looks angrier than before.

He glares at both boys, a bottle of rubbing alcohol in one hand and a pair of tweezers and a white gauze in the other. Midoriya almost looks… sheepish. Bakugou annoyed.

"Tch, that loser-"

"No," he cuts him off, brow ticking dangerously as the blonde abruptly quiets. "Your brother hasn't been spotted anywhere within the vicinity. Rin, I'm busy. All Might, please escort Rin back to her room."

I blink.

And then, noticing the tall, scraggly man with too bright eyes and sunshine hair, flinch.

If Sensei notices, he doesn't deign to give either of us a response. Nostrils flared, he instead dips the gauze in the alcohol and presses it more firmly than perhaps necessary against the broad scope of Midoriya's shoulder. The green-haired boy leans away, letting out a muted hiss even as his eyes screw up in pain.

I…

I skirt immediately out of the blonde's reach.

"Young Rin-"

"I can walk myself," I snap, glaring at Sensei and then the blonde. Without waiting, I turn on my heel and leave.

Toshi- All Might follows more sedately.

Like a kicked puppy.

I scowl and make it barely meters down the hall before he's coughing. I glance back, only to be sure he's not spitting blood or something ridiculous. He smiles back awkwardly.

"Ah, uh, Young Rin, have you ah- have you considered your Hero Work Studies?"

I narrow my eyes.

"Hero what?"

The blonde flushes hotly, immediately mumbling something. It reminds me, uncomfortably of Midoriya.

"The Hero Work Studies!" the gaunt man gushes. "Now that you have your license, you'll be able to work under other heroes Young Rin! Have you considered who? I would think Hawks, but I understand you and Young Tokoyami have something of clashing quirks. Still there are others!"

I make a face.

Hawks?

"Who?"

Toshinori nearly trips.

"Ah! The number three hero? The winged hero, Hawks? Don't tell me you've never-"

Number three? I wrinkle my nose grumpily.

"Am I supposed to?"

He stares back wide-eyed.

"Ah… well, I… maybe?"

Disgusted, I shake my head. Then, arriving at Sensei's door, quickly shove it open. I stand there for an awkward moment, door open and Miska observing me from the couch. Toshinori behind me, clearly still wide-eyed—waiting.

Waiting for something.

"Ah Young Rin, about the… I mean I understand…"

I hesitate. Memories of him and a couch and kindness warring so dangerously with him. Tall and overbearing and so huge he could crush you in a breath.

He lied.

"Young Rin-"

I cut him off with a glare, walking off before he even finishes.

.

.

.

I'm half asleep on the couch when Sensei finally returns. He doesn't look happy, hair in a disarray and lips curled in what looks like a permanent frown. I glower back automatically.

"Why are you still up?" he scowls, shuffling over as he pulls off his capture weapon. He drops it on one end and then slumps onto the cushion beside me, nearly sitting on my legs. I move them quickly, quiet as he leans back and sighs. "It's well past your bedtime."

"Nightmares."

His shoulders slump. Raising a hand, he wipes it across his face.

"Do you want to talk about them?"

Definitely not.

"No."

With only his chin in sight, I frown at his second sigh.

"Are… Are you okay?"

He doesn't look over, doesn't even seem to acknowledge me. I stare, brows furrowing. Then, hesitant, I shift closer. When he still makes no move to answer, I touch his arm, pressing against the dark fabric of his shirt before slowly encircling him in a hug. He doesn't move, silent as I press my face against his shoulder, inhaling his scent.

"Sensei?"

"It's fine," he sighs, shaking off one arm to hug me back.

Despite the warmth and comfort of the hug, I don't like the defeat in his tone.

"Did… Did something happen?"

"Not relating to you or your brothers."

"Related to Midoriya and Bakugou?"

"I can't answer that."

I frown.

So yes.

Pulling back, I try to meet his eye. He refuses.

"Is… Is it about them being hurt?"

Dropping a hand on my head without looking, he pulls me back to his chest and huffs.

"Rin," he says, and it's so full of his typical annoyance that I can't help but relax against him. "Either change the subject or go to bed."

I pout, shoving away his hand.

"But… But you're supposed to talk when you're upset," I argue sharply. Twisting onto my knees, I press my palms against his nearest shoulders and steady myself with a scowl. Positioned now at eye level, I glower at his surprised expression. "It's rule number one!"

He blinks clearly irritated eyes.

Then, slowly, smirks.

"Oh?"

I wrinkle my nose and glower, before having a sudden idea. Launching myself across his middle, I snag up his capture weapon and drag the heavy thing over my head. I straighten victoriously, fixing my face in one of his stupid grins.

"Yes! I'm Aizawa Shouta! So you have to talk or I'm gonna ground you. This is your warning."

He snorts, reaches out, and pulls at the pile of heavy fabric. As soon as he does it settles much more comfortably against my neck. I marvel at the difference, before pinning him with a narrowed look.

"Hey, don't try to change the subject!"

I let the shadows pool at my neck, let them swim up my neck and swirl into my hair.

"Now… Now explain!"

Sensei blinks back as my hair spins above me just like his own.

And something odd seems to pass across his face.

He abruptly stands, one arm hooking under my legs, and almost weightlessly lifts both of us upright. I abandon all impersonations and squeak, quickly clinging to his neck as the shadows disperse and my hair sinks back to my shoulders.

"It's time for bed."

"Wait, but-"

Before I can even finish the thought, he's retaken his capture weapon and deposits it across the back of the chair. He doesn't even break stride on the way to my room.

"Sensei-"

I latch onto his neck as he deposits me onto my bed.

"Sensei!"

Fingers reach out and wiggle across my sides. I abandon his neck in an instant, rolling sideways with a squeal and shoving the two nearest pillows between us. He smiles back, and I pause at the fondness there. At the… at the love.

"Sensei?"

"Yes, Rin?"

"Will you say it again?" I ask quietly, burrowing under my sheets and wiggling back closer so my arm presses against his leg still on the bed. "My daily affirmation?"

He laughs, the sound low in his throat.

Then his hand reaches out, sweeping across my forehead and hair.

"I love you."

Buried in the soft, warm sheets, I glow.

.

.

.

The next day begins tedious and slow. Exhausted from staying up so late, I shuffle behind my classmates yawning. The assembly arrive to is even more boring. Principal Nedzu spends forever talking about his fur of all things.

Classes are dull. Yamada-sensei is loud. The book we're reading in Literature is boring.

And, honestly, the day just seems to drag on forever.

By the time lunch rolls around, I just slump into a seat, wondering if I should abandon lunch and maybe try and sneak in Sensei's yellow sleeping bag. I'm sure its around here somewhere…

Except, he's probably in it.

I rub my eyes and sigh.

When I open them, I blink at the two strangers joining me.

"Hi," says a pretty blonde, with large blue eyes a rather perky expression.

I blink again and wonder if I'm hallucinating.

"Uh… hi?"

She doesn't go away. Neither, for that matter, does the boy, though he does seem highly amused.

I furrow my brows and frown.

"I'm Makoto!" squeaks the blonde immediately, squirming in her seat as she breaks into a large grin. "but you can call me Mako. I know we've never met, but I feel like we've known each other for ages! Hitoshi-kun talks about you sometimes, I mean, not a lot, but he doesn't really talk about anything a lot, you know? And when he does talk about something, it's usually work, or studying, or you know, hero-related, but if not those then it's you. So hi! It's nice to meet you!"

I blink and try to process all of that.

What?

"Ah… hi again?"

The dark-skinned boy beside her snorts.

"Ignore her, she's been bullying Toshi for ages to come meet you. I'm Daisuke, by the way."

Pulling myself up in a sitting position, I try to remember my manners. It's strangely difficult. Why are these people here?

"Hoki Rin," I mutter.

"Awe! You're so quiet!" Mako-chan says, face splitting into a grin. "I bet you're shy! Sometimes I get shy, but not really. Oh! My quirk is Orange by the way! I bet you've never heard of something like that! Hah, that's because it's utterly useless! I can smell like oranges! Wanna see?"

I follow her excited fluttering wide-eyed. It's like watching a train wreck.

She cackles, tugs back her sleeve, and then surges over the table, nearly knocking over her plate in the motion. Daisuke, beside her, makes a noise, but it goes unheard. Instead, she suddenly thrusts her exposed wrist under my nose. I nearly slide out of my seat.

I don't know what to do.

"Sniff it!" she squeals.

Wide-eyed, I inhale quickly.

The boy, Daisuke, groans.

"Mako!"

"Just kidding!" she laughs, slipping back and grinning. "What'd it smell like?"

What?

"Arm," I answer stiffly, eyes narrowing.

Are these really Hitoshi's friends?

I'm saved from asking it aloud as Hitoshi slides in the seat beside me, expression sour and tray smacking against the table loudly.

"Mako-chan," he snaps. "What are you doing?"

"Showing me her quirk," I answer for her, giving them both a look. Daisuke palms his head and Mako grins, sheepish. "Orange, apparently."

"I was kidding," Mako whines, shrinking under Hitoshi's glare. She turns to me and flaps her hands nervously. "Sorry, sorry! I just got excited!"

"You're an idiot," Daisuke mutters.

I'm inclined to agree.

"Why are you two here?" the purple-haired boy interrupts, eyes narrowed and arms crossing. "I thought we were meeting after school."

Daisuke channels a very impressive you're-an-idiot look.

"To eat lunch, obviously," he says, picking up his utensils. Then, pretending like the blonde's weird moment didn't just happen, he takes a bite and scowls. "Dude, classes are boring without you. I mean don't get me wrong, I'm excited for yah. If anyone deserved to be transferred, it was definitely you, but it's not the same."

I furrow my eyebrows as the girl pouts and nods glumly.

I shift in my seat, suddenly uncertain.

Maybe I should go?

"I… I can move," I tell Hitoshi, immediately noticing his regret.

He opens his mouth, but the blonde quickly cuts him off.

"Move?" Mako-chan says, eyes widening. "Is it because of my joke? I'm sorry! I mean, I really am! I'm awful at first impressions, but I can do better! Oh, let me try again! Here, ahem, um, hi! My name's Suzuki Makoto, but I go by Mako to anyone I like! I like having fun and singing karaoke and really anything loud! My favorite subject is math and I hate English, but I really, really like Present Mic-sensei! My quirk is really stupid, but it's not orange. I can make my nails light up, see?"

This time she doesn't stuff her hand in my face and instead squishes up her nose in concentration.

It takes a few seconds (Sensei would make her work on that), but her nails eventually glow a dull, sickly green.

She waves them excitedly as they fade away.

"Oh, uh…"

"They've been trying to meet you for months," Hitoshi sighs, shaking his head. "You can go if you want, but they sat over here to talk to you too."

To me?

I frown, glancing towards the girl, face eager, and the boy smiling disarmingly back.

But… Why?

"I heard you liked our marshmallow competition," the boy, Daisuke, says in a much more even tone. He winks and tilts his head. "You wanna try for yourself?"

"Oooh! I brought marshmallows!" Mako says, dancing in her seat. "I always have extra marshmallows! I wanna compete! I bet I can beat you this time, last time you cheated and made me sneeze!"

Hitoshi, beside me, raises an eyebrow.

"And that's not suspicious," he says dryly. "How long have you two had this planned?"

"Us?" teases the blonde, grinning widely. "All break!"

Daisuke, leaning forward, ignores them both.

"Well?" he asks, eyebrows wiggling unnecessarily. "Think you can beat me hero-girl?"

I narrow my eyes dangerously.

Hero-girl? Is he serious?

"Are you suggesting I can't?"

"I dunno Daisuke," Hitoshi says, glancing my way and scratching a small bump on his chin. "She does have a pretty big mouth."

I glower.

"Excuse me?"

"But then again, so does he, so who knows."

The other boy flips him a bird.

I bark out a laugh, surprising even myself and that seems to be all the reply Mako needs. Reaching into her bag, she pulls out three, massive bags of half-squished marshmallows, a pair of sunglasses, comics, a bag of makeup, and a crumpled-up Ziplock of napkins.

This is ridiculous.

I take my pile regardless.

Think you can beat me hero-girl?

Absolutely.

"Toshi-kun, you're the judge!"

"Don't call me that," the purple-haired boy huffs.

He judges anyways.

.

.

.

I win.