After the horror that was our utter defeat, Sensei sends us all to class.

I spend most of it unable to concentrate. Despite taking notes, doing all my work, and being physically present, I feel at least a million miles away. My mind constantly replays the battle, rehashing the scenario, rethinking his attacks, my own weaknesses, my classmate's groans.

Mirio.

I don't forget the name again, working it through my brain on repeat like a broken record.

Mirio, Mirio, Mirio.

It's like a faulty record, like an incomplete thought I can't quite drag to the end. I can't get him out of my brain.

It's like I'm back there all over again, frozen, staring into bright blue eyes and shining gold hair.

Is this why people worshiped All Might?

Was this why I couldn't get him out of my head? That laugh, that grin, that confident shout of power as he didn't even try.

The raw power and ease behind his evisceration of our class. I couldn't help it. I wanted it. I wanted to be him, to have the kind of power to stare Kaito in the eye and stop him.

Would they have loved me if I saved them?

Mirio had told us afterward he wasn't blessed with a naturally powerful quirk. He and Tamaki and the girl whose name I didn't bother to remember. How he'd trained his quirk to perfection through constant effort and hard work.

And it… It made me want to train.

It makes me want to run until my lungs burned, makes me want to push my body until it ached, made me want to practice kicks and punches until I could punch through burning, shadowy quirks.

Sighing miserably, I flop on Hitoshi's bed, those blue eyes still caught in my mind.

On the floor by his bike, the purple-haired boy casts me an amused glance.

"So he beat you," he says dryly, hands working steadily as he removes the back tire of his bike. "I don't really see the big deal. He's two years ahead of you and one of the top students in the school, isn't he supposed to beat you? I think the surprise is that your class even thought you had a chance. Can we say conceited much?"

I make a face and roll over, snatching his pillow and hugging it to my chest.

It smells like Hitoshi, and I breathe deeply.

"Rude. It isn't that he just beat everyone!" I scowl. "He- He annihilated us! I couldn't do anything! I lasted longest, and I was on the ceiling! He- He just punched through my quirk! Like, bam, and it was gone! And it wasn't even my normal one, it was all hot because I was angry, and it didn't even phase him! And then he was fast. Like quirk fast but without a speed one. I mean, not even Iida could keep up!"

Hitoshi snorts.

"Again, third year."

I blow out my cheeks in annoyance.

"Whatever," I grumble, only too aware this conversation wasn't going anywhere. "Do you think I could get that good one day?"

He pauses and sends me a strange look, kneeling with one leg on the floor and the other propped up in front of him. He balances his elbow on it, his fist against his cheek.

"Really? Ugh… Yes, Rin."

I duck my head at his half-lidded, judgmental stare.

"Hitoshi!"

I peek over the pillow when he doesn't answer, unsurprised to find him rolling his eyes and returning back to work. He threads a chain through the metal gears. He makes a noise when one clinks, pulling it through and then wiggling it steadily back and forth.

"Why are you doing that?" I ask curiously, blinking when he catches another.

"The link's too tight," he says, wiggling it a few more times before pulling it taunt. "You usually do it once you reconnect the chain, but I like to fix it when I find 'em."

Making a quiet oh, I watch as he uses some strange, handheld tool to sinch the two ends back together and break off the excess. He reaches for the wheel, rolls it back between two bars, and sets it in place, working with a practiced efficiency as he reinstalls the tire.

"Why'd you have to change the chain?" I ask, scooting towards the edge of his bed to kick my feet.

"It was getting old. They stretch as you use them and that one was getting loose. If you let them get too loose, they'll get caught on things or mess up."

I hum, fascinated as he turns the pedals. He watches the spokes, stopping to work out two more links, before dragging himself to his feet.

"Wanna ride?" he asks, dusting himself off.

I still.

"R-Ride?" I repeat, wide-eyed.

"You said you never have, right?" he smirks, raising a brow. His head tilts, purple hair wild and framing his face as he offers a shrug. "You wanna change that?"

I… I squeal.

Rolling off the bed, I land on the floor and launch myself at the boy, arms wrapping around his neck before he can take it back.

"For real? Really? Really?"

"Ge' off," he grunts, his hand reaching down to dig into my side. I let out a screeching laugh and release him at once.

"Hitoshi!"

"Oi, you wanna ride or not?" he huffs, lightly shoving my face away and picking up the bike. He lifts it easily, one hand dragging it up from the stand and the other snatching two helmets off the shelf above. I blink at the sudden display of strength.

Noticing my pause, he narrows his eyes.

"What?"

"I… nothing! You're just strong! I wasn't expecting you to pick it up!"

The look he gives me is pure irritation.

"It's aluminum," he glowers, carrying it out into the hall and tossing one of the helmets in my direction. I catch it with flushed cheeks. "Shut the door behind you."

.

.

.

Ignoring his classmates' weird stares, we walks the bike through the building and out onto the street. There, he makes me push it while he points out all of the important parts.

"Those are the breaks," he says flatly, gesturing to two of the squeezy things by the handlebars. "The right break is for the front. Squeeze it."

I do, nearly tripping when the front of the bike suddenly stops.

Hitoshi snickers and I throw him a dirty look.

"The left is the back. Try that one next."

I do, this time more prepared when the bike suddenly lurches.

"I… I did it!"

"Yeah," he huffs, smirking when I beam up at him. I glow in excitement, fingers rubbing across the rubber handles and metal brakes. This is so exciting! "You may want to use those more gradually. If you pull a hard stop like that at any sort of speed, you're going to flip. Here's the helmet, you ready to try?"

I nod excessively, quickly grabbing the bright blue helmet and pressing it against my head. I buckle it and grin.

Hitoshi snorts before stopping me to reach under my chin.

"You're such a kid," he grouches, fingers reaching for the buckle and pulling at the extra length until it tightens beneath my chin. "Your helmet's too loose, the point is to protect you, not slide all over your head."

I flush but don't move, pulling excitedly at my shirt until he lets go.

"Thank you!"

When he backs up, he rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, get on. The seat should be good since I adjusted it earlier. You can ride to the tree and back. Try not to fall over when you turn."

I wiggle excitedly.

Kicking my foot over the machine, I balance wobbly using each foot to keep me upright.

"You know, it generally works best when you pedal."

I flush and try, nearly squeaking when it rolls. Clutching at the handlebars, I laugh as I manage to keep it straight.

"Hitoshi! Hitoshi! I-I'm doing it!"

There's a chuckle behind me and I can't help but grin, relaxing a little as I move a little faster.

This is fun.

It's like running, but twice as easy, like flying on the ground or gliding except on wheels. I feel my skin break out in daisies, my hair whipping behind me, and the wind in my face.

"Alright! Turn around!"

I do, biting my lip as I twist. It's not exactly hard, just pull and pedal, but the balance of it's weird. I drop down on one foot and have to right myself twice. The straight-line back is easy though.

"This is fun!" I squeak, trying the turn again and leaning out instead of in.

It's easier to keep balance, but I definitely over-correct. My right foot hits the ground and I scowl playfully as I push off.

After three circles I stop, nearly vibrating with excitement.

"Your turn!"

He snorts and takes the bike, kicking down a stand and shaking his head.

"How about I take us for a ride instead?" he asks a second later, fingers moving under the seat and arm flexing as he adjusts some lever. The seat immediately sinks before he pulls it up several inches higher than it was before and locks it in place.

"A ride?" I repeat, lips curling up in delight. "Where? How? There's only one seat!"

"You can stand on the pegs," he says, gesturing to the back with a smirk before climbing on and buckling on his own helmet.

I look worriedly at the small metal pieces.

"They'll hold me?"

"Yeah, they've held Daisuke, and I'm pretty sure you're nearly the same weight."

I wrinkle my nose at that, but sort of climb to stand slightly behind him and over the tire. As soon as I do, I realize the next issue.

"Where do I put my hands?"

"My hair," he says sarcastically, before ducking when I actually reach for it. "My shoulders, idiot! What are you doing?"

"Just following orders!" I tease, sliding my hands up his back and gripping at his shoulders.

He spares me a sour glance before righting the bike and giving me a moment to hop up. The pegs are small, and my shoes don't grip them well, but he holds the bike steady enough it's not really an issue. I squeeze his shoulders excitedly, fireflies dashing about my glowing skin and cat ears pressing against the helmet.

"Ready?"

"Yeah!"

He takes off all at once.

Despite not sitting down, I can tell the difference between us at once. The wobbliness straightens, the turns are smooth, the speed quickens, and I can't help but laugh.

"You're amazing!"

He doesn't look back, but he doesn't have to.

I can almost hear his smirk, can feel the way his shoulders loosen, and the tension falls away.

"This is so cool! Hitoshi-kun, how come we've never done this before?"

"I don't know," he huffs, turning easily before following one of the UA trails that lead around the dorms. Despite it being late afternoon, there aren't a lot of people on it. A couple of upperclassmen and a blue-haired boy trying out some tech. I grin at them all, the wind whipping through my hair and the sun pressing on our faces.

By the time we return, I can't help but hug his neck, still balancing on the back.

"Hey-"

"Thank you!" I whisper, ignoring him as I press my lips to his cheek. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"

He pinks beneath me and stops.

I disentangle myself first, hopping off and then stumbling unsteadily on the ground. He removes himself more gracefully, snorting when I race back up, arms locking around his stomach, and with a sigh, he doesn't push me away.

Letting out a huff, he pats my head robotically.

"Alright, alright. Chill, or I'll make you wait a week before we do it again-"

"We can!?" I cut off at his glower and immediately back away, hands locking behind my back and pasting on my most innocent expression. "Sorry! Chill, see? I'm chill!"

He snorts disbelievingly.

"Yeah, sure. C'mon, I need to lock it up before we head in, and you probably need to go soon. Have you finished those math problems?"

I nod, taking his helmet, amused at his hat hair, and watching curiously as he locks the bike up.

"Yes. Sensei made me finish before I came over. They haven't been as hard since this summer."

"They weren't that hard before," Hitoshi mumbles, and I wrinkle my nose at him.

"Yeah, well, maybe for you. I wish I was as smart as you," I grouse crossing my arms.

He makes a face before leaning over and clicking something into place. Finished, he stands and reaches for his helmet. I hand it back, thoughtfully, eyes caught on the beautiful, clear-blue sky.

Sensei probably would want me back soon…

Even with my math done, I still needed to study and fill out my emotion journal and decide on medicine and-

A hand passes against my shoulder, lightly brushing my arm, and I blink up at fond, half-lidded eyes.

"You good?"

"Oh, yeah." I smile, tilting my head slightly. "Just… Just thinking."

"Thinking?" he teases, lips stretching into a smirk. "That's new. Up there with solving math problems, huh?"

"Hmph!" I huff before shoving his shoulder and immediately start towards his dorms.

"Kidding, I'm kidding," he laughs, and with a few long strides he catches up quickly.

I blow out my cheeks with a look that he ignores. Instead, he stuffs one hand in his pocket, falling easily beside me.

"So?"

I know what he's asking for.

Wrinkling my nose I consider not answering.

But today was fun, and he promised another bike ride in the future…

"Tulutho-san suggested I could take medicine. But Sensei wasn't all that for it, and it'll reduce my quirk, and…"

I trail off as we arrive at the large building for 1B.

I follow Hitoshi as he holds open the door, past the lobby and up the stairs to his room. Monoma, the annoying blonde from the camp, glares but doesn't follow. Vlad, who often liked to camp out in their living room, waves brightly as we return, Hiro sprawled lazily at his side, letting out a loud woof.

I wait till we're back at his room before speaking again, handing over my borrowed helmet and sinking onto his rug. It's really soft, and I'm pretty sure he said his mom bought it for him.

My chest aches at that.

What would it be like if my family had quirks?

If I didn't?

"So you don't want meds?" Hitoshi asks, hanging up both helmets before dropping to the ground beside me a moment later. He stretches, one arm propping him up from behind, and lounges lazily.

"Not… Not really," I admit, sighing heavily and staring up at his ceiling. I smile a little at the glow-in-the-dark stars strewn across the ceiling. "But… But then I can't stop wondering… I mean… Do you think there's something wrong with me? That's… That's the only reason people take medicine, right? Do… Do you think… Do you think she's worried I'll go crazy like Kaito?"

Was that why nobody ever wanted me?

Is that why Mama never-

"No," Hitoshi says. And I can't help but blink, because… because he doesn't even have to think about it. "I take medicine. It doesn't mean you're sick, just that your body isn't perfect."

I blink, mouth opening slightly, and then close it in shock.

"Y-You? You take medicine?"

He casts me a half-lidded gaze and I flush hotly, realizing my rudeness.

"Sorry."

"It's fine," he huffs, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, I take meds, I mean, nothing prescription, but that's more because they don't make things like that for people my age then because I don't need it. The docs diagnosed me with insomnia back when I was ten. Mom and Dad really didn't know what to do, thought it was them, and got really worried and stressed and stuff. They did a lot of tests, turns out my quirk messes with my brain waves as well as others. Like I said, the doctor couldn't really prescribe anything, they don't have drugs to help that for kids. So my parents ended up going through a ton of different over-the-counter stuff. There's a box under the bed for those nights it gets really bad, but yeah."

I stare and frown, eyebrows furrowing.

"Insomnia?" I ask, turning on my side.

He rolls his eyes and smirks.

"My brain won't shut off, so I struggle to fall sleep. It's great…"

I glance at the dark circles under his eyes and nod.

That, actually, makes a lot of sense…

"You know you'll never be your brother, right?" Hitoshi says after a moment before stretching back and laying across the floor. He looks like a cat like that, expression indifferent and eyes slipping closed. "Probably the dumbest thing you've said to date."

"Kaito wasn't always like that," I admit quietly, fingers twisting in my shirt. I sigh.

He makes a quiet sound.

"Yeah?"

"Do you think… Do you think if I took the medicine, I'd feel less sad?" I whisper, eyes immediately filling with unbidden tears. My chest tightens. Yui-san. Kaito. Mama… Gone. I blink rapidly and hurriedly wipe at my face. "Sorry, I…"

"Are you sad?" Hitoshi asks, ignoring the last bit.

I sniff and roll onto my stomach, hiding my face in my arms. The tears, refusing to dry up, spill freely down my cheeks and arms. My throat closes tight.

"Sometimes," I croak.

He makes a noise and shifts closer. A warm, heavy hand pressed against my back.

"You wanna talk about it?"

"I… no. My… Mama died and Kaito went crazy and- and-," I cut off, unable to stop the choking sob crawling up my throat. "I… I wasn't gonna tell you. I'm sorry, I should go-"

"Hey," Hitoshi grumbles, arm reaching out. "Hey, stop that. It's fine."

My lip trembles as I look at him.

He looks sad too.

I pull back and shiver.

"I… I didn't wanna- I… Stupid emotions."

"Hey," he says again, this time grabbing my arm. "I said it's fine. I'm your friend, Rin. It's… It's what I'm here for, okay? And- And that sounds like more of your shitty luck. Now stop acting like an idiot and I'll give you a hug."

I choke on a laugh, arm moving across my face to swipe at my tears.

"Y-Your- Your sweet side sucks."

He snorts, pulls, and I curl up beside him.

"Yeah, well your brain sucks. You couldn't have mentioned this earlier? Like I dunno, when you actually found out? Now I'm gonna have to explain why you followed me up here and left crying. Vlad-sensei is gonna think I hurt you."

I giggle and sniff, swiping at my eyes.

"You'd never do that."

He makes a face and I bury my face in his chest, smiling despite the tears.

"Yeah whatever," he grumbles, but I can hear his fondness. "You're my best friend too, okay? And if your sad, then… well, you probably deserve to be. You… You don't have to pretend with me, alright? It's not like I haven't seen you all snotty and stuff before-"

I scowl.

"Really?"

It takes all my will not to bite him.

He smirks, his crazy hair falling pressed chaotically back.

"Am I wrong?"

I manage a choked laugh and scrub at my face.

Then, pressing my face back into his shirt, I let out a shaky breath.

"Thank you," I whisper.

The hand that touches my arm is warm and calloused.

"Always."

.

.

.

The rest of the week passes quickly.

It's like an endless cycle, wake up, breakfast with classmates, notes, notes, lunch, and more notes. It's easy to get lost in, easy to forget about work studies and villainous brothers as I pass through my classes. Even when I get back, it's the same. Study, play a game, talk. I sit with my classmates less reluctantly, finding Iida's notes straightforward and Momo's understanding of, well, everything better than my own. It's kinda weird, having people to study with. People to rely on.

Nice.

It's easy to avoid my thoughts with them.

They're just so… noisy. Energetic. It's like being back in the foster homes, but so much better. Even Bakugou, who's prone to shouting, never acts cruelly. Nobody hurts anyone, sabotages anyone, they don't even pull mean pranks.

Their laughter is near infectious, their teasing comical.

They're also exhausting.

The evenings are my favorite. The quiet peace in the apartment calming in a way the day never is. I curl next to Sensei on the couch, both of us occupied as he reads through some document or other with Miska purring between us. I close my eyes sometimes, pretending that this is my life—that this was how it's always been.

No Yui-san, no Niko, no psychotic brothers, or dead mom, or… or any of that.

Just us.

Just me, Sensei, and Miska.

Family.

"You had the meeting today, right?" I ask quietly, fingers running through Miska's soft fur as I message Hitoshi in the other. Monoma had apparently gotten roped with Kendo-san, their red-headed class president, into a pushup competition. Hitoshi was documenting as they sweated it out, Vlad's grinning figure officiating between them. "Did you guys decide if we'll be able to participate in the work studies?"

Sensei doesn't look up from whatever paper he's reading. Instead, he hums noncommittally.

I hesitate, waiting for more, and frown when it doesn't come.

"And?" I ask, reaching over to poke his side. He passes me an amused look. "What's the verdict?"

"That you'll be waiting for tomorrow, just like the rest of the class," he says flatly.

I roll my eyes and huff.

"I'm not asking for the specifics, I just wanna know if we get to participate!"

The thought of Mirio returns to mind once more.

Blonde hair fluttering in the wind, blue eyes sparkling.

POWER!

He'd been haunting my thoughts a lot. Memories of his strength and power, the feeling of his hand on my shoulder. His ridiculous wink.

I blush.

I want to be that strong!

So powerful nothing could touch me…

"Why?" Sensei asks, eyebrow rising as he finally puts down his paper. "Are you that—Why are you so red?"

Ignoring his question (I'm absolutely certain he wouldn't approve of any thoughts of the naked blonde demolishing our class), I instead consider the question that had been haunting me for the majority of the week.

Heroes are in charge of case files.

"That's why they have files Rin. The police and heroes work together in teams to compile a list of relevant material, working together to use logic and rationality to solve it."

"Do you think… Do you think I could work with the hero over Kaito's case?"

Sensei, still staring in my direction, frowns. His brows furrow in that judge-y way that makes me want to squirm.

That probably wasn't the right thing to say…

Stupid words…

"No," he says. And then, strangely enough, he folds the papers in his hands and sticks it beside him on the arm of the couch. "Among the many reasons I would tell you no, the most pressing is that the Owl doesn't work with females."

I blink.

The Owl?

"He… Wait, what? Why not?"

Sensei shrugs.

"No idea," he says, pushing back his hair and slouching lazily. He drags his hand across his face, eyes cutting to my face. "He's a vicious, arrogant bastard, and he's political enough to be dangerous. He's not someone to trifle with, the less you're involved with him the better. There's a reason he's in charge of the quirkless cases."

I… I don't know what to think about that.

"What do you mean?"

"Quirkless cases are political nightmares," Sensei admits. He crosses his arms and frowns, eyes glazing as he looks past me at the wall as if he's remembering something. "They easily become high-profile since they often involve the perpetrator responding in violence to years of harassment or abuse. It's the kind of thing the media loves. It leads to public outcry, allows for new, sweeping legislation, and it's exactly what the Commission will want to avoid. The past decade has been a slow deterioration of the Commission's power. If a case like your brother's comes to light, there will doubtlessly be a call for change."

I swallow.

"And… And the Owl is going to stop that?"

Sensei sighs, meeting my eye.

"If he has his way, your brother will be arrested and tried quietly, yes. From what I understand, he's working on the case personally."

I sink into the couch silently.

Arrested and tried…

Despite knowing all the horrid things he's done; I can't help but hate that.

Will he spend the rest of his life in jail?

Would… Would he die there?

Because… Because…

Because I couldn't make enough money?

Because Mama relied on me?

I don't want to ask any more. Instead, I pull Miska's lanky body up so her chest rests against my chin. The softness of her fur brushes my lips and nose, strangely comforting. I try to breathe away the tightness in my chest as she meows and stares down.

Lazily, Miska leans forward and licks my nose.

For some reason, the little gesture helps.

I close my eyes and nuzzle her.

And jump when Sensei's hand falls heavily against my head.

Peaking up, I frown at the rough touch of his thumb brushing against my forehead.

"Sir?"

"I've spoken with Tulutho regarding the work studies. We're both in agreement you should not participate."

I…

I let the kitten slide into my lap, mouth going wide as outrage and anger and hurt rip through my chest.

"What?"

He waits.

I…

I can't even process it. Jerking from his hand, I stand.

Miska jumps away with a yowl and I glare. Hot, burning anger flashing suddenly under my skin. My fists curl at my side, smoke smoldering from my pores-

How could-

How dare-

"Why?" I manage, eyes swelling with tears.

My lip trembles. I snarl.

He promised- He promised after the provisional exams-

It's my only chance to be a hero-

To see the files…

"Rin-"

"You know what, nevermind," I snarl, unwilling to stand there and listen to his stupid excuses. "So all of that, about the Owl and my brother and the commission. Why do you even fucking bother- you- you- ugh!"

He frowns, expression darkening.

He doesn't back down.

"Rin-"

"Fuck you," I growl, all of the emotions I'd spent all week so carefully controlling, suddenly pouring out in a torrent. "Fuck you and your pity!"

"Excuse me?"

I bare my teeth, snarling at his expression of disappointment and frustration in contempt. I hate it. I hate him.

You're not my dad!

"Just leave me alone!"

Spinning on my heel, I snarl and stomp towards my room. I ignore his frustrated expression. Instead, I slam the door.

And when I crash onto the bed, I let out an angry sob.

A/N: Merry Christmas! :)