"While I'm sure many of you are eager to sign up for the hero work studies immediately, you should hold off and focus your attention on your studies. The faculty intends to vote on it in the next few days and I'll inform you when we've come to a decision. As a reminder, you are all not allowed to speak of this to your two missing classmates. You should not share notes, explain information, or do anything that constitutes helping them catch up. They brought this on themselves, am I understood?"

The class choruses 'yes, sirs' and Aizawa-sensei nods.

"Very well, you're dismissed."

Before he can gather his things and leave, I spring up from my desk.

"Sensei, Sensei!" I squeak excitedly.

He looks up and sighs at the commotion, expression melting into annoyance when I grin innocently back.

Around us, my classmates, already packing, titter in amusement. Kaminari and Kyoka snickers, Kirishima beams, and even Tokoyami seems to smile—though that's a little tough to tell with a beak.

"Why are you making so much noise?" he asks sourly.

I wiggle barely able to contain myself.

"Cause I'm amazing!"

Momo, now occupying Mineta's old seat in front of me, giggles into her hand.

Sensei's lip twitches.

"Are you now?" he asks, clearly deciding to humor me. "And what have you done?"

Light spills across my skin instantly.

"I got Ectoplasm-sensei's question right! It was super long, but I got it right on the first try!" I gush, pulling at my sleeves and dancing in my spot. Nobody in class looks particularly surprised, I'd been flickering on and off all afternoon much to Aunt Nemuri's delight. "And- And at lunch, I won the marshmallow competition! Hitoshi-kun's friends sat with me at lunch and we had a competition to see how many marshmallows someone could stuff in their mouth! Mako-chan only got like six, but that's because she wouldn't stop laughing. Daisuke-kun got twelve, but I managed fourteen!"

Sensei looks like he doesn't know whether to smile or scowl. Instead, he turns to the rest of the class still loitering by their seats.

"Do you all need extra lessons?"

I snicker as they clear out instantly.

Then, packing my bag, I quickly cross the room and hug him. He sighs and lets me, almost looking fond. I lean my head back and smile.

"I want a kiss!"

He raises an eyebrow.

"And you think I answer your demands?"

I stick out my tongue.

"Yes! If not, I'll go ask my classmates for one! I bet if I glow, Dark Shadow will give me one."

Sensei snorts, leans forward, and drops his lips against my head.

I squeak when the rough hairs on his chin tickle my nose.

He shakes his head.

"What have you been eating?" he asks, pushing me away. "Go get your things, you have an appointment with the therapist this afternoon."

I pout but do, spinning in little circles before grabbing my bag and spinning back.

Sensei waits for me at the door, seeming bewildered.

The walk to Tulutho's room is incredibly fun, probably because I keep playing with my glow. Sensei shuffles in his normal walk and I attempt to teach my glowing arms shadow puppets—except without shadows at all...

"Walk properly," he huffs when I nearly slip on the floor, not paying attention.

I flush.

Tulutho is waiting for us when we arrive.

Without hesitating, I grin at the tall, dark-skinned woman and slide into the room going straight for the couch. My papers and markers are waiting for me and I twist immediately to show him. Sensei, however, lingers in the doorway, looking uncomfortable.

I pat my seat, and he walks stiffly over.

"Look Sensei!" I say, pulling out some of my drawings. They're all on the bottom and I pick the best to show him. "Look what I made!"

He takes the three I hand him, and I can feel him slowly begin to unwind.

"It's Miska and Yamada-sensei and us!"

At the last page, his face turns strangely blank.

"Ah, Rin-chan, welcome. Aizawa-san, thank you for coming."

Sensei drops the papers and leans back. It's not like the way he does at home though. There he just sort of slides down and droops, this seems more… rigid? tight?

"You said you wanted to see me," he retorts dryly.

I pull some blank paper over and begin to draw.

"Yes," she says, her thick accent warming. I've never met anyone with an accent like hers, I kinda wonder where she's from. "I wish to speak to you and Rin-chan about her journal."

I blink and glance up.

"The emotion one?" I ask, furrowing my eyebrows.

She nods, hands settled on the small paper pad on her lap.

I open my bag and pull out the thin notebook she had given me. It wasn't like normal notebooks, with little circles for your emotions and numbers beside to rate their scale, and then little lines to put the date and an explanation at the end to add notes. We'd done the first together, taping a couple 'cheat sheets' as she called them to the front.

I hesitate to hand it over.

"Are… Are you going to read it?" I ask nervously.

She shakes her head and smiles.

She has a really nice smile.

"Not unless you ask me to," she says lightly. "It is yours, isn't it?"

I look away, strangely relieved.

"If you would," the woman says, going on. "Silently read through the entries. You've been using it all week, yes?"

I nod and quickly open it to the front, scanning the day. Sad, happy, sad, mad. I'm surprised at the sheer number of emotions I logged; well aware I hadn't always tried.

"What patterns are you seeing?"

"Um, there's a lot?" I admit, flipping the page.

Sensei, beside me, snorts.

"Yes," Tulutho says, lips twitching up as well. "But take a moment to examine the intensity. What numbers do you see the most?"

I frown.

5. 9. 7. 3. 8. 7.

"There's… there's a lot of high numbers?" I mumble, suddenly unsure. "Is… Is that weird?"

Sensei's arm slides across my shoulders immediately, and I kind of wish we were at home so I could curl up against him.

Something tells me doing that here would not be okay…

Tulutho shrugs.

"Weird is an impractical quantifier," she says, and I'm struck by the odd phrasing. She can't lie. "Is it standard compared to your peers? If I were to compare you to the average civilian, no. Compared to others with your particular background? Absolutely. It's why I wished to speak with you both."

I furrow my brows.

Us both?

She turns her dark eyes to Sensei and my insides churn.

"Rin exhibits symptoms of multiple diagnoses, including PTSD, generalized anxiety, depression, and what may or may not be a mood disorder. According to her own data, her emotions are overwhelming. I am aware that Shuzenji-san has suggested medication, I would like to know if you have considered it further."

I swallow.

Sensei sighs.

"Medicine?" I ask quietly. "Am… Am I sick?"

The tall woman turns to me and frowns.

"No," she says, and the honesty in that one word is like a soothing balm. "But the trauma inflicted upon you by others is bleeding into your everyday life. Here."

She cuts off and flips through her notepad, stopping when she comes to a certain page. In a quick motion, she tugs it loose and places it between us. It's an illustration. Two boxes sit side by side and filled with four colors. In the first, the yellow one covers most of it with green, pink, and blue being pushed to the sides.

I frown as I read the tags.

Self-respect, healthy attachment, positive emotions. The large yellow one, the impact of trauma, has little arrows pushing out of it.

"You are not equipped to prescribe medicine," Sensei says, folding his arms. "So I fail to see the relevance of this discussion."

"It is relevant because you signed a medical waiver," Tulutho responds evenly. "I have already spoken to Recovery Girl and she is willing to write the prescription based on our shared data. I wish to know if you have considered it and to answer questions as I am able."

My eyes slide to the other square. Unlike the previous, the yellow blob in this one is much smaller, nearly the same as the others with green, pink, and blue taking up their own corners.

I look up and frown at Sensei's downturned lip.

"The side effects are unacceptable," he says flatly.

Tulutho frowns, eyebrows furrowing.

"What side effects?" I ask curiously.

"Difficulty sleeping, headaches, dizziness, blurred vision, diarrhea or constipation, nausea, dry mouth, and sweating." Sensei recites sternly.

I shrink.

"That… that sounds terrible," I admit.

Tulutho shakes her head.

"Yes, read like a laundry list I'm certain it does. However, they do not always occur. It depends on the dosage and your body's reactions. Shuzenji-san has already used a swab of Rin-chan's saliva in order to determine which prescriptions will work without the least reported side effects. I hypothesize the true byproduct would be the effect it has on her quirk."

I swallow.

"My quirk?"

Tulutho pauses, as if to give Sensei a moment, before nodding at me.

"Your quirk draws from your emotions. The medicine is designed to repress those emotions, making your thoughts clearer and your actions more rational and decisive. However, with less powerful emotions to draw from, it stands to reason your quirk would no longer be as powerful."

Sensei scowls.

"And the suicidal ideations?"

The what?

"If either of us thought Rin was in danger of regressing from this, would we really be having this discussion?" she says sharply.

Sensei's hand settles against my head.

I relax against it immediately, feeling the uncomfortable air clear.

"I will consider it."

Tulutho smiles.

"That is all I ask."

.

.

.

I leave Tulutho's office alone.

Sensei, refusing to stick around through the entire appointment, takes the pictures with him and leaves. I don't ask why, just shrugging and turning back and drawing new ones. Tulutho takes the time to explain all the weird acronyms she used to me then. PTSD, Anxiety, Depression

I'd thought depression was just when you were super sad. Apparently, it was more like when you don't want to get out of bed, reminding me when I first found out about Kaito.

"H-Hoki-chan!" Midoriya shouts, breaking me out of my daze.

I blink and look around before spotting him in the direction of the trash.

"Hey," I reply. I wait, quiet, as he jogs over. Taking in his scratched-up face and dusty clothes. For someone grounded, he sure looks lively.

"What… uh, what are you doing out so late?"

I slip my hands in my pockets and shrug.

"I had an appointment with Tulutho-san."

Midoriya's eyes widen.

"Y-You have her too?" He immediately reddens and flaps his hands. "Sorry! Sorry! That came out rude, I mean, it's just… All Might made it sound like I was the only one. I guess that makes sense though. We've all been through a lot."

I remember his scream in the forest and shiver before nodding soberly.

"Yeah."

There's an awkward pause between us before I shrug and start towards the dorms. He falls in step automatically.

"Do you like her?"

I blink at the random question before he smiles boyishly and rubs his head.

"Tulutho-san, I mean."

"Ah…" I huff, nodding slightly. "You forgot your transition."

His cheeks flush a bright pink.

"Yeah, guess I did." He pauses, almost nervous before grinning. "What would Shinsou-kun think?"

"Probably nothing," I snort, amused. "Sensei does it all the time. I would think you need practice."

He barks out a laugh.

"Yeah, probably," he says, and I can't help but notice the freckles splattered unevenly all across his nose crease when he grins. "I'm not usually that good with people, so I'll have to keep trying. I wasn't very popular at my old school."

My smile dims.

"Because you were quirkless?"

He twitches uncomfortably, and I immediately regret the sudden conversation turn.

Don't bring attention to it.

"Ah…," he says, crossing his arms. "I, uh…"

I don't know how to fix this. Breathing deeply, I decide to plunge ahead anyway.

Sensei says sharing things helps…

"My brothers were too," I tell him, interrupting his strange mumbles. "Quirkless, I mean. My whole family was."

Midoriya falls quiet, and I don't need to glance his way to feel the weight of his gaze.

"They… they were?"

I nearly sigh in relief.

"Yeah," I admit, hands in my pockets. "They were constantly getting in fights because of it. When… When the suits took us, I think Ryu was about to be kicked out of school. He's my oldest brother. Kaito wasn't so bad, but he'd get dragged into them a lot because of Sora and Ryu. People liked to pick on them…"

"Oh," Midoriya says, and I can hear the surprise in his voice. "I… I sometimes fought with Kaa-chan, but that was it. I really just wanted to be a hero."

I wrinkle my nose.

That probably shouldn't surprise me…

Remember his room?

"Really?" I ask, looking his way.

He grins ruefully back, one hand rubbing at his bandaged neck.

"Yeah," he says, awkward. "Stupid, huh? As if someone quirkless could be a hero…"

I blink, brows furrowing.

Wait, what?

"That's stupid," I scowl. "Why couldn't they be a hero?"

The green-haired boy blinks, eyes widening as he takes in my expression.

"You… You think they could?"

I give him a weird look.

"Obviously," I tell him, not even sure why he'd ask such a stupid thing. "My brother isn't have any problem being a villain."

Midoriya stares.

I don't pay attention, focusing instead on the dorms already coming into view.

I slump.

"Sensei's gonna be annoyed I talked about that," I mumble. "He told me not to."

Midoriya, still sort of dazed, laughs nervously.

"Ah… yeah, he told me the same. Maybe we could, ah… just not mention it?"

I throw him a curious glance.

"Like a secret?" I ask, oddly interested.

"Yeah," he says, freckles wrinkling again. His eyes sparkle and I blink in surprise at just how expressive he is. "Just between us?"

I blush.

"I… okay?" I manage, slowing to a stop when he thrust out a pinky.

I can't even remember the last time someone did that.

Maybe in one of the earlier homes? Before… Before the Last One?

Something warm and bright envelops my stomach, and fireflies flicker suddenly to life all across my arms and face. Midoriya beams at them, and I quickly curl my finger around his.

The fireflies buzz around our fingers, much to his delight.

"OI! YOU SHITTY DEKU! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?"

He jumps nearly a foot in the air and away.

I giggle.

"YOU BETTER GET YOUR ASS BACK IN HERE AND HELP!" Bakugou screams from the door, cartoonishly mad. Midoriya offers a sheepish smile.

"I, ah, gotta go," he says, still eyeing the fireflies. "I'll… uh, see you later Hoki-chan!"

"Rin," I correct.

He doesn't hear, rushing ahead.

.

.

.

That evening after dinner, Sensei gestures me to the couch.

Noticing the blanket and kitten already laid out, I scowl.

"Really? Didn't we just talk, Sensei? I just saw Tulutho-san a few hours ago… Is this really necessary?"

He smiles, all teeth and eyes crinkling.

I wrinkle my nose when he steps around me and just sort of crashes on his end.

"Yes."

He leans back against the arm, and I glower at the amusement there. Lips pursed to the side and eyes drooped. He slides an arm against the back of the couch and gestures me over with a look. "Sit."

I cross my arms, unmoved.

"But why?"

He actually has the audacity to laugh.

Rude.

"I thought you were making a list," he says, lifting a brow. "Or did you think I forgot? We can start wherever. Your attitude towards Ms. Joke, your issue with Kouda, the rock-boy from Shiketsu, your mother-"

"Taisho?" I interrupt, annoyed. "I didn't say anything about him. Did Hitoshi-kun say something? He better not-"

"Rin," Sensei chides. "I don't need Hitoshi to explain when someone makes you uncomfortable. I have eyes. Now sit down, do you want to start there?"

I move reluctantly.

No.

I'd rather not start anywhere.

I don't say that though, well aware he'd make me write some stupid essay. Huffing, I grab the blanket and drop onto my end. Pulling the blanket around my shoulders, I wrap it securely over my head and glare out the makeshift hood. He smirks and I grunt, immediately looking away.

I try to think of a reply, but nothing immediate really comes to mind.

Stupid words.

"There… There's nowhere to start," I scowl, fingers brushing across the sofa cushion by my knee. I stare down at the gray couch and try to ignore his gaze. "He was mean. I got upset. I didn't hurt him. See, not everything needs a conversation."

"What did he say that was mean?"

I shrink and glance up to find his dark eyes still watching.

Looking away, I glower.

"Is this really-"

"Yes," he interrupts, voice stern. "There's a difference between schoolyard taunts and being purposefully cruel. I'm asking which was used. The fact that he's a hero student makes it even more cause for concern. One day, that boy will be expected to respond to emergency situations and deal with trying individuals. If there's an issue it needs to be addressed now."

Hero…

I cringe.

"Rin," Sensei says quieter. I glance up, surprised to find him rubbing his nose. "I would also like to know because it bothered you."

Oh.

I drop the blanket and pull at my fingers nervously.

He nods towards the space beside him, and, swallowing, I scoot over.

The moment I'm in the crook of his side, his arm falls like it did on the bus heavily against my shoulder. The weight is strangely nice. I lean into it, curling into the warmth and relaxing.

This is nice.

"What did he say?" Sensei prods again.

"That… that he hoped I got expelled and that I shouldn't be a hero. It… It was 'cause of what happened at the beach and… and that I was trash."

Sensei breathes deeply.

"I will address it. Do you believe you're trash?"

"No," I mumble, closing my eyes. Leaning closer, I nuzzle his side, the softness of his shirt soothing against my cheek. The smell reassuring.

Sometimes… Sometimes I wish we could stay like this forever.

"I… I shouldn't have left him, Yamada-sensei I mean."

"No, you shouldn't have," Sensei agrees, sounding almost contemplative. "Did he say anything else or attempt to physically harm you?"

"No," I answer, shaking my head. "He walked off. Can… Can we talk about something else?"

"Your mother?"

I grimace.

"No."

He doesn't say something for a long moment, fingers running through my hair, and I lean comfortingly into the touch.

"Alright," he says finally. "I spoke with Recovery Girl after our discussion. What are your feelings about the medication?"

I blink and pull away.

"What?"

"Do you want to try it?" he says, expression carefully blank. I frown, searching his face, and the façade cracks easily. He huffs, seemingly amused, and offers a wry smile. "Don't look so surprised. I'm not going to make you take it if you don't want to. It'd be irrational and a waste of time and energy. It'd probably end in an argument anyway."

I pout.

"It… It would not!"

At his knowing look, I flush.

"Okay, maybe," I admit, curling back against him. "But… I… I don't know. I… I don't want to lose my quirk!"

What if Kaito comes?

The thought of facing him without… of taking him on defenseless…

A hand in my hair.

The glint of silver in the dark.

I shiver.

Sensei frowns, eyes narrowed, stares as if he were trying to pick away at my thoughts. After a moment, he sighs.

"Then you don't have to. There are other ways to control your emotions besides medicine. Deep breathing, using positive thoughts, expressing yourself, basic self-care… The goal, regardless of your choice, is that you'd be happy without feeling constantly overwhelmed. However, if the coping strategies stop working or you need something more in order to be successful, the option is available."

I frown.

"And… And that's it?"

Sensei lets out an amused huff, fingers scratching my scalp.

"That's it. We'll continue as we have been. I'm not punishing you for not choosing one or the other, that'd defeat the purpose of letting you choose. It's your decision Rin."

I pull at my fingers.

"Oh…"

"You don't have to decide right now," he says, snorting. "But I'm going to need something a little more substantial in the future. Yes or no. If I give you until Friday, should I expect a meltdown by the end of the week?"

I flush and glare.

"No!"

He laughs and I know he's remembering his last deadline.

Red-faced, I wrinkle my nose at him.

"Sensei!"

.

.

.

The next day passes as quickly as the first.

It's, surprisingly, another good day. The teachers all give us a ton of homework, but nothing unmanageable. The math is still understandable, Literature is simply to read (which I finish in class), and our Art essay covers foreign symbolism in pop culture, which is super easy. It's a little weird that Midoriya and Bakugou still aren't back yet, but the others make enough noise that it's hardly all that noticeable.

Especially Hitoshi's friends.

They sit with us again at lunch and this time I'm more prepared for it. I'm less surprised when Mako-chan explodes across the table in a shower of giggles and nearly overturns my milk or when Daisuke drags Hitoshi into retelling some wild story of how they got into an argument with a business student that led to some crazy dares.

And Kirishima, apparently summoned by all this chaos, joins us as well.

"Dude! You guys are crazy!"

"So then Kirishima-kun and Hitoshi-kun had an arm-wrestling contest!" I exclaim, rolling on my back on the floor and raising my arms. Yamada-sensei, currently lounging and stretched out on the couch, smiles fondly back, phone in hand.

"Oh?"

I'm pretty sure he's sneaking photos.

"Kirishima-kun won, but Hitoshi-kun came in second! I only got third, which Kirishima-kun said was decent, but I think that was just him being nice. I mean, it's basically last place 'cause it meant I only beat Daisuke-kun and Mako-chan, and that not really saying much cause neither of them actually train. Mako-chan was the worst though! Her arms are like Jell-O and- and did you know she couldn't even do pushups? That's crazy!"

Aizawa-sensei, somewhere in the kitchen cleaning up, snorts.

"Hate to break it to yah love, but that's really not that surprising. You're a little more cut than most," Yamada-sensei laughs. "There ain't too many girls your age bent on being strong. Most of 'em just wanna look good or have good grades."

"More cut?" I repeat, wrinkling my nose. "Did you just make that up?"

Yamada-sensei tilts his head and squints over the sunglasses still perched on his nose.

"No, it's a real phrase! Don't doubt my lingo!"

I giggle at his annoyance, spreading my arms sideways and stretching.

"Sounds made up," I tease again, grinning cheekily back.

He looks caught between rolling off the couch and glaring.

"You know you have English with me tomorrow? I'm feeling a pop quiz in my sweet little intern's future…"

I laugh, sitting up and crawling over towards him. He crosses his arms and stares sourly back.

"Oh no you don't! Don't come over here, troublemaker! I don't want your apologies."

I ignore him and flop on his stomach.

"But Sensei!" I whine in English.

"Teacher," he corrects with a dirty look. "And they don't call their teachers teacher in English. They use honorifics."

I wrinkle my nose and wiggle to lean across his stomach, elbows digging in beneath me.

English is so weird.

"Mister Yamada?" I try, and then stick my tongue out not liking that at all. "Eww, yuck! Mister Hizashi?"

"You could try uncle," he offers trying to look disinterested.

I blink at that, legs hanging off the couch. He doesn't meet my eye, cheeks red and mustache twitchy.

"Uncle Hizashi?" I try, rolling the foreign word around my tongue. It's a mouthful. "That's too long! What about Uncle Zashi?"

He pinks, expression curling into a silly grin.

Leaning forward, he clobbers me to his chest, dropping his phone somewhere on the side of the couch. One arm wraps against my back and the other my head.

"H-Hey!"

"No takebacks!" he declares loudly, expression bright and delighted.

I squawk, unable to wiggle out. I kick wildly until my feet slide up and tangle in his.

"F-Fine!"

To have such thin arms, he really has a lot of strength. I don't mention that though, too aware he wouldn't appreciate it. And when he lets me go, I consider squirming away to tease him again. But dinner was delicious, and he really is comfortable, and even if his leather isn't anywhere near as soft as Aizawa-sensei's sweaters, this is nice.

I glance towards the sink and blink, noticing my guardian's dark gaze and smirk.

"Sen-"

"Uh uh!" Yamada-sensei huffs, wiggling his eyebrows and pointing a finger gun at my nose. "No takebacks!"

I flush, surprised that he was actually serious, and let out a nervous laugh.

"Oh, fine, Uncle Zashi?" I attempt again, pressing my chin against the middle of his sternum.

He raises an eyebrow.

"What?"

I smile mischievously back.

"Thanks for dinner."

He snorts and rolls his eyes, his long blonde hair sticking out over the arm of the couch and his finger gun disappearing as it slides through my hair.

"Yeah, yeah… it's not a problem kid. Good job passing the exam. All things considered, you did pretty well overall. Competing against a bunch of second years from around the country and coming up, what was it, fourteenth? Fifteenth? Impressive. You keep this up and I'll be stuck interviewing you for the radio."

I flush brightly and he laughs, ruffling my hair.

"Hey!"

He pulls back and stops, both arms moving away to slide under his head so I can move as I please. I don't leave though, instead sliding sideways and squirming up so I can squish between him and the back of the couch to lean into his shoulder. He lets me, eyes slipping closed as he does.

He'll probably have to leave soon.

Something about making his rounds and a long patrol.

It reminds me of the internship, the quiet warmth of his apartment, and the comforting scent of expensive cologne.

"Sen- Uh, Uncle Zashi," I whisper, not wanting to break the peace but curious.

He peaks one eye open and looks down, the green swirl strangely colored behind the lightly tinted glasses.

"Hmmm?"

"When we do the Hero Work Studies, can I do mine with you?"

The eye shuts back and it's not exactly the reaction I was waiting for. The blonde sighs. Aizawa-sensei, clearly now done with dishes, doesn't join us. He disappears into his room and Yamada-sensei makes a face though I don't know if it's towards me or his best friend.

I wait, only too aware the answer isn't an immediate yes.

Dark doubts swirl quietly beneath my skin.

He doesn't want you.

Do they ever?

"Tell me why you want to work for me," the blonde says slowly, reaching out to collect his sunglasses and push them up atop his forehead. It makes him easier to read but doesn't stop my own confusion.

Why?

My mouth goes dry at the need to explain.

Sometimes, I really hate that word.

"I…"

I trail off, twitching uncomfortably beneath his bright green gaze.

I don't know.

Because he's easy. Because working with him is nice? Because I trust him and know him and he's kind-

"I… I don't have the words," I manage, lips curling down in distaste.

He nods, smiling reassuringly. Part of me wants to growl and point, shouting that! That right there! That's why!

But I don't.

"What if I tell you what I think, and you correct me if I'm wrong?" he asks.

I nod, shoulders loosening.

"Okay," he draws out, staring up at the ceiling. "I think you want to work with me because I was the one you did your internship with."

I nod again, slower, uncomfortably aware that that probably isn't the correct answer.

He notices and raises an eyebrow, expression shifting minutely between tired and bemused.

"Figured. And what would I teach you?" he asks.

Teach me?

I have no idea where he's going with this.

I don't know. "How… How to fight?"

"Why?"

I furrow my brows and sit up, one hand pressed against his abs and the other on the couch.

"What?"

"Why do you need me to teach you how to fight?" he asks again, not unkindly. "Kid, you just passed the fighting exam with flying colors. You spar regularly with your classmates and you regularly beat them. It isn't like when we first started, you can defend yourself now. You don't really need me anymore for that."

Something dark and dangerous twists in my gut.

"I… I'll always need you," I whisper suddenly, throat tightening in terror.

He makes a noise, hands waving immediately in defense.

"Oh hey! Hey! Okay, so maybe that was a bad choice of words!" he backtracks. "I'm sure you'll always need me, I'm your Yamada-sensei! We're family. I get it! I'm not- I wasn't saying I won't be here for you! Just that you're growing up! You don't need to learn how to punch or basic self-defense anymore. Kid, you're a near-natural at fighting! As long as you've got the motivation to push through and keep goin' you've got this! You don't need what I'd teach you, except maybe some social skills, but that's not enough for the work study! These are for you to develop into the kind of hero you wanna be, and last time I checked, I'm pretty sure it wasn't the DJ-teacher kind!"

I frown, eyebrows knitting together, but don't disagree.

Yamada-sensei, as if sensing my darkening thoughts, sighs. Reaching over, he slides an arm around my shoulder and pulls me back down against him.

"Hey," he tries again, smiling conspiratorially. "Shouta mentioned you wanted to learn some medical skills, right? The work study is totally the time for that. Not just holdin' on to what's comfortable, yah dig?"

I scowl and fold my arms, wrinkling my nose.

"I got it," I grumble, face heating and looking anywhere but his face.

I probably should have known better anyway.

"I'm kinda not sure you do," the blonde grouses with a huff, but he doesn't press it.

I ignore him and bury my face back in the cook of his shoulder and huff, trying not to lean into his touch when he rubs a hand against my arm.

"If it makes you feel any better, your class might not be participating in them anyways," my godfather says a few seconds later.

I peek up and frown, brows furrowed.

"Why not?"

He gives a sly look.

"Oh? Are we talking again now?"

I try to imitate Aizawa-sensei's deadpan stare.

He snorts.

"You know, that's kinda creepy."

I grin. Then remembering the way I used my shadows in the mirror, I sit up and pat insistently at his chest.

"Wanna see my other one?" I ask excitedly.

"Your other what?"

Closing my eyes in concentration, I have to focus to find the shadows, especially with the glow in such easy reach. It feels like a cool balm when I do, simple and pliable. I only summon a small amount, feeling it seep from the pores on my neck.

"Eh? Rin-chan, what are you doing?"

I open my eyes and grin even as the shadows drag my hair in the air.

Yamada-sensei gapes beneath me, mouth going wide.

"Oh shit, that creepy as hell!"

I drop the shadows instantly and pout.

He laughs.