Sensei stares as he stands outside of Toru-chan's bedroom, his eyes comically wide and brows a straight line across his forehead. I smile up at him, sandwiched in a lazy sprawl between Ojiro and Momo, with a pile of notes from today's classes tucked beneath the essay I'd been outlining for the last hour.

The outlining had been Momo's idea. Apparently, she used it anytime she had to write longer essays, and she often sectioned off her time, spending at least 20 minutes brainstorming anything and everything she could think of regarding the topic and then afterward compiling things into organized groupings.

Admittedly, I hadn't expected to spend this much time with them. I'd kind of expected Sensei to call me home almost a half hour ago, when Minasu had left, but he hadn't.

He'd been acting weird all day though.

I wonder if it's because of Shirakumo…

"Rin… your hair…"

Ojiro, clearly tongue-tied in the presence of Sensei, looks between us nervously, like he's afraid of a reaction. Momo doesn't look much better, her hands twisting nervously in her lap.

Toru, however, jumps up excitedly, her shirt sleeves flapping and clothes twirling.

"Aizawa-sensei! Isn't it cute? When Rin-chan asked me to cut it, I was super surprised! But it looks so good! I didn't even know her hair had so much volume, 'cause it's always braided back or super straight. But it really frames her face well, right?"

I look at Sensei, feeling the soft lift of hairs on the back of my neck, and wonder if he likes it.

Even if he doesn't, it's not like there's anything he could do about it now.

But at least I don't look like her.

Toru had chopped a good 20 centimeters off, enough that my waist-length hair could now no longer actively fit in a braid. Instead, it brushed just below my chin, lighter than ever, making me feel strangely buoyant.

"It's… different," he manages, as if he's not sure what to say. He almost looks nervous, and I want to giggle as his gaze settles on my copy of the notes and then back to the others. "It's time for dinner."

I open my mouth, a thought on the tip of my tongue, and then stop.

Forgetting the thought almost instantly, I shrug.

"Okay."

Picking myself up, I reach out while on my knees and hug Momo, whispering a quick thank you, and then sliding over to Ojiro to offer the same. I don't even make it to my feet before Toru is there, giggling and hugging, and it takes a moment to separate myself from her, though not without a quick thank you and a see you later and her insistent whisper to "text me later!"

I follow Sensei back to our apartment glowing.

I'm unsurprised to find dinner made and the table set. I wash my hands and join him.

"Did you get all your work done?" I ask as we set about eating. Fireflies buzz lazily about my face and arms while I sample the food. He makes a face, but I ignore it, instead, taking a moment to savor the chicken. He's gotten better with the spices, and he'd even picked out different veggies this time, which was nice.

When I look back, he's squinting.

I wonder if his eyes are hurting. His eyes are still a little red, but not by much.

"No…"

I nod sagely. Sensei's work was never done.

"Ah," I say, taking another bite and considering him thoughtfully. "Do you feel better?"

He frowns.

"Excuse me?"

"You know? From earlier? I always feel bad when I cry, but then if I sleep it off, I usually feel better. Did you get to take a nap at work? What'd you do today?"

Sensei looks at me like I've grown another head.

Setting down his utensils, he crosses his arms and tilts his head.

"I worked. Why did you cut your hair?"

I chew on a bit of particularly delicious piece of broccoli and give him a look. Remembering the unopened box tucked somewhere in the back of my closet, I wonder if he'll understand. I hope he does, I'm not entirely sure I have the words to explain it all.

"I… looked like my mother."

Sensei frowns, something sad settling in the lines around his eyes, but I ignore it, reminded a little too much of earlier—head bent forward with streaks of liquid reflecting down his cheeks.

"She had… she had long hair, and she liked my hair long and… and braided and brushed. She'd say pretty girls shouldn't have tangles and I… I don't… I don't want it. I don't want her hair. I… I want to be me."

"Your hair isn't what makes you a person," Sensei says, and I flush at his dry tone. Obviously. I open my mouth to try again, because clearly, he isn't getting it, but he moves on regardless. "What brought this on? Your trip to Wakayama?"

He says the last bit with a derisive look, and I shrink, fireflies flickering and disappearing.

"I… maybe…"

Sensei rolls his eyes and reaches out, pulling my chair beside him with a loud screech.

"Sit up."

I do, reluctantly, and he reaches out to touch the short pieces gently. He tugs on a piece, leaning forward, and I realize, when he stays there for a long minute, that he's examining it.

"If you wanted a haircut, you should have just asked," he sighs, reaching for another section to examine it. "Hagakure did a decent job, but you didn't need to get your classmates to cut it."

"But I'm grounded…"

Sensei removes his hand with a sour look.

"And?" he asks, straightening. "I may have made you wait, but I would have taken you to a salon, Rin. Just because I choose not to use them, doesn't mean I'd restrict you. As for you being grounded, that has nothing to do with this conversation. If you want something, you still have to ask for it, regardless of whether you're in trouble or not. The entire purpose of grounding you is to give you time to reflect on your actions and develop more appropriate solutions. You could have been kidnapped, again, you could have been charged with trespassing or been assaulted or gotten into any number of situations. It's not safe for teenagers to travel alone across long stretches of the country, especially teenagers being targeted by villain groups."

I swallow.

He doesn't look away, lips thin.

"Not only that, but when someone tells you no, it means no, end of discussion. Do you understand that? Regardless of whether or not you agree with their decision or not, you will respect their boundaries."

I nod, shoulders curling forward, and Sensei sighs before rising stiffly.

He shuffles to the sink, turns on the water, and begins washing his hands. I scoot my chair back in front of my own food and sigh, staring sadly down at it.

You could have been kidnapped, again…

I… I know it was dangerous and wrong and I shouldn't have done it.

But is it really that bad that I would still do it again?

He knew and didn't say.

Sensei returns to his chair with a huff and leans forward, making a face.

"Boundaries are important Rin," he sighs, reaching for his water. "We went over this with Mineta, but I don't think it's sticking. There are things you tolerate and things you don't. Part of growing up is knowing where to draw that line."

I frown at my plate and then at him.

"Like not speaking to family?" I ask sourly.

"If they have a history of hurting you, absolutely," he says flatly. "Your brother cut ties with a family he found toxic and stifling."

I open my mouth, fully prepared to argue, but Sensei holds up a hand.

"I'm not talking about you," he says, his expression grim. "If you look at the family from Ryu's perspective, you see a mother that died prematurely from the effects of poverty, a father that abandoned him, a brother that refused to seek help and is now an active murderer and terrorist, and a younger brother mixed up in a life of crime and drugs. Whether or not you blame him for not seeking you out, the fact remains that he was left to deal with that situation, and you were not. If his response is to create a boundary and refuse contact with any member of the group, it's his choice. We do not cross that boundary."

"Even though he knew the truth about Kaito?" I snap.

"Even if he knew the cure to cancer," he says, eyes sharp. "If you had a quirk that healed everyone who touched you, but you no longer wanted to use it for others. It is your right to say no. If you tell someone you don't want to share your things, you say no. If you don't want a hug or don't want to be touched or don't want a picture posted online, it's your responsibility to share those boundaries and others responsibility to respect them."

I blink, wide eyed.

What?

"If… If I had a quirk that healed people, it'd be wrong to not use it to help others," I whisper, horrified.

Sensei takes a bite, chewing slowly before replying.

"Even if it meant you'd never get to go home?"

My brain hurts.

"If it helps people…"

"And if it hurts you?" he asks, lips thin. "Yaoyorozu's quirk could easily be used to make medicine from her body fat. She could manufacture and stock pharmaceuticals all over Japan for difficult and/or expensive medicines. It could cut down the price of life-saving drugs, save thousands, and improve our country's economy."

I swallow.

"So you would have her sit in a room, spend her days eating specially designed diets in order to maximize the use of her own quirk, and save thousands at the cost of never realizing her own dream?"

Sensei levels me with a look.

I stare down at my plate, shoulders sagging.

"How did we get from Ryu to Momo?" I ask, not wanting to agree.

Sensei sighs, leaning back and rolling his neck.

"Because both are about consent, one of which you respect because she's your friend, and the other you don't, because he's family."

He reaches out, finished with his meal, and collects his plate as well as my mostly empty one. Then, standing, returns to the sink. I stay at the table for a while longer, lips pursed as I consider his scenario.

It felt…

It felt unanswerable.

Pulling out my phone, I make my way to the couch and text Hitoshi.

If you had a healing quirk, do you think it'd be wrong if you didn't use it to help someone?

I wait for the read-check at the bottom and sink onto my side of the sofa. Curling, I pull down a blanket, eyes on the screen. His response is almost immediate.

If I answer that, are you going to go on another long-distance road trip?

I scowl, pink rising up across my skin.

No!

How'd you even know about that?

Are you serious? Your classmates cornered me, apparently, they thought I'd know what the hell you were thinking. I didn't even know you'd been involved in a raid.

I drop my head guiltily and slide a hand across my cheek, feeling awful.

"Ughhh…"

"If you're texting Shinsou, you should probably start with an apology," Sensei says dryly over the running water as he clinks several dishes together.

"You could have mentioned that earlier," I grumble under my breath.

Something cold and wet smacks my forehead and I reach up, startled.

"Is that a pea?" I snap, staring at a soggy, green pea before glaring at my guardian incredulously. "You threw a pea at me?"

"Don't mumble," he smirks. "And if you wanted to know, you should have asked."

I scoff, discarding the nasty vegetable on the floor for Miska to play with, before wrinkling my nose and returning to the phone.

Rude.

I'm sorry, I type immediately. Things got crazy, but I should have told you. Sensei got sent on a mission and wasn't allowed to talk to us, and while he was away, this horrible person called and was threatening Kagura-nee-chan. And so I had to go to save her, but when I did, they destroyed my phone and knocked me out, and then there was this whole place with all these people and apparently, it was a human trafficking ring, and they thought I was trying to uncover them, but I wasn't, I was really just trying to find out what happened to Kaito. But then I found out that they were what happened to him, and we fought and Aunt Nemuri came and then Sensei and I fought and I wanted to message you, but I knew you were working on your hours to get your provisional, and I didn't want to bother you.

I send the message, deciding not to try and edit it, and then start typing out more, but before I get a chance, it dings brightly.

You're not a bother.

My eyes water.

I stare at the words, throat constricting.

Three little dots appear at the bottom though, before I can figure out how to respond.

What's a bother is getting harassed by your classmates and them knowing more than I do. I just saw you on Monday and you didn't say anything.

I sink into the couch.

I'm sorry, I write again, curling a little tighter and sinking down into the cushions. The purple-haired avatar at the top scowls back judgmentally.

I don't want you to be sorry, I just want you to talk to me. You're my best friend too, and I hate finding out from those idiots that somebody hurt you and you didn't even say anything.

So why did you run away? And why are you asking me weird questions about healing quirks?

I rub my thumb across my knuckle and sigh.

I wasn't running away. I found my oldest brother, Ryu's address, so I was going to get answers.

Answers? Hitoshi writes back. I can almost imagine his expression, brows furrowed as he tilts his head. Answers to what?

What happened to Kaito, I answer immediately. The people that took Nee-chan were human traffickers. They took Kaito and hurt him. The guy that was talking to me said a hero took him and that he would make Kaito see visions of me hurting him. I wanted to know who the hero was.

So why not just ask Eraserhead to take you?

Sensei said no, I type, nose wrinkling. Anytime either of my brothers is involved he always says no. He blocked my phone so I couldn't research Kaito, he told me no when I tried to get permission to see Ryu. He even hid Mama's death certificate.

There's a much longer pause than usual as I wait for Hitoshi's response.

Sensei, finished with the dishes, lingers in the kitchen on his phone, and I press the side of my face quietly against the cushion of the couch.

Have you asked him why?

My shoulders sag.

Yes. He said I was being obsessive, and it wasn't healthy to look up Kaito because he tried to kill me. He told me to leave him alone. He said I couldn't see Ryu because when he asked, and Ryu told him no. When I went to see him anyways, I was violating his boundaries.

I pause, only for a second before retyping my original question.

Sensei said if you have a healing quirk, and you say you don't want to use it, that those are boundaries and people should respect them.

But I think he's wrong! If you have a healing quirk, it's wrong not to use it!

A narrow-eyed emoji appears with a ding.

I scowl.

You didn't mention all that. I agree with Eraser, you shouldn't have to use a quirk if you don't want to, and you should respect people's boundaries.

I wrinkle my nose at the screen.

Ryu knew that my brother was tortured by a hero and that's fine?

Two separate conversations Rin, Hitoshi writes back. Also, Ryu sounds like an ass. Are all of your brothers asses or just these two?

I snort.

All of them. I lean back and look towards the kitchen, unsurprised to find Sensei gone. He'd probably gone to his room. Turning back to the phone, I consider his words and Sensei's. If someone can help, you don't think they should? If they can?

I don't think they should be made to because of their quirk, Hitoshi writes back. What if they're scared of blood? Or if they want to be a writer? Do you think I should be a villain?

I don't even hesitate.

No!

But I have a villainous quirk.

I glare at the screen. Then, pulling down the side screen, find his contact info and press call. The phone only rings once before a lethargic, familiar voice grunts.

"Why are you calling?"

"Your quirk isn't villainous," I scowl, rolling my eyes and not bothering to keep the annoyance from my voice. "That's stupid, and that isn't anything like what I'm talking about."

"You're talking about people's roles being based off of their quirk, it's the same thing."

"No, it's not," I growl. Aggravated he's not getting this, annoyed that my words aren't making sense. "If a person can help, they should. If your quirk can help people, you should—you do. It's wrong not to help people when they need it. You help all the time. Quirks can't be villainous anyways. If they were, Midoriya-kun's quirk would be the worst because it hurts him and breaks his bones."

A voice sighs behind me, and I lean back to see Sensei walking by, arms folded, shaking his head.

I ignore him, sitting back up.

"… Oh."

I scowl at the sound of Hitoshi's silence.

"If I ever meet your old classmates, I'm gonna hit them," I grumble sourly. "Villainous quirk… really? That's stupid. People are villains, not quirks, and you're not a villain. You're way too nice anyways."

Hitoshi makes a sort of choking noise on the other end, and I lean back to stare up at the ceiling, unhelpfully grumpy.

"I just don't understand how someone who can help wouldn't."

"That's because you're weird," Hitoshi huffs, but I can hear the quiet fondness in his voice. "So how much trouble are you really in? Sensei hasn't been around for like a week; I can't imagine he's anything but pissed."

I pull the blanket up to my nose and groan.

"That much?" he snorts, sounding far too amused.

"I'm grounded for forever," I pout, sighing dramatically and making a face. "He's never gonna let me let this go. He's given me the same stupid lecture about consent at least five times."

"Well… uh, do you understand it yet?"

I scowl.

"Not you too," I grumble.

"I mean, it's a pretty important concept," Hitoshi huffs, and the sound of metal rotating rattles across the phone. I wonder if he's working on his bike. "I think I got that lecture at least once a month after my quirk came in until I was like thirteen. Dad still calls sometimes to give it sometimes, that and his, heh, his life tips. I mean, sure, it's annoying sometimes, but they mean well."

I frown, brows furrowing.

"Life… tips?"

"Yeah… Sometimes they're things he just randomly thinks of, like fold your socks and always make up your bed, and other times they're about something I've talked to him about previously. Last week he was ranting about relationships and how if you want to be in a happy relationship you should never raise your voice and you should always have date nights and-"

"Never raise your voice?" I interrupt. "But everyone raises their voice."

Hitoshi quiets, and for a moment I wonder if I said something wrong.

"My parents don't," he says after a second, and I can almost imagine his shrug. "I can probably count the number of times my dad has raised his voice, and I'd probably never make it past my first hand. My mom gets loud sometimes, but never at dad or me. She's just being loud to be loud, she'll walk away first if she's angry."

I frown.

"Never?" I ask softly.

"Maybe when I was little, before I can remember," Hitoshi answers, sounding kind of sad. "But no, not really."

I stare at my knees.

"My… Mama used to throw plates sometimes."

Hitoshi makes a noise on the other end.

"Uh…"

"Sensei doesn't do that."

"No," Hitoshi says, sounding a little uncertain. "I think we'd all be concerned if he did."

I smile fondly.

"I told him I loved him today."

"Yeah?" I can hear his snort, along with a small chuckle as the sound of gears shift and something tightens. "I'm sure that made his day."

Remembering the way he just kind of stared, I don't know about that.

"He just kinda stared."

Hitoshi really laughs then, the louder, chuckling one that makes his eyes squint.

"He blue-screened?" the purple-haired boy asks, sounding ridiculously amused. "Oh, that's-"

"Rin, I need to see that essay and you need to study."

I look up, Hitoshi's laughter in my ear, and take in Sensei's petulant expression.

"Uh…"

"Say good night," he huffs, waving at the phone before walking back towards his room again. I wrinkle my nose at his back and mumble a quick goodbye. Sensei returns as I hang up, his own papers in hand as he sits in his usual spot. Then, digging around, I find the paper I'd been working on with Momo and the others.

Sensei scans through it, nods, and hands it back.

"Hmm."

I know that means it's fine, so I sit and pull out the study notes instead.

We work in silence for a while.

The soft scratch of his pen on papers, the steady shuffle of notes as I transfer most of it onto my own sheets. I've never been the kind of person that can just read and learn, though admittedly, I do like reading.

"Did your parents shout at each other?" I ask after a while, only too aware when the sound of pen scratching pauses. I don't look up, focusing particularly on replicating one of the art diagrams Momo had copied down.

"Excuse me?"

"Your parents," I repeat, not really sure if I should. "Did… did they raise their voices?"

Sensei's chair creaks, and I hesitantly sneak a look at him.

Sensei stares back, brows furrowed.

"No," he finally says.

I turn back to my notes, frowning.

"Oh."

"My parents didn't particularly like each other," Sensei sighs a second later as he reaches for his water and takes a sip. I look up in surprise, not expecting more. Sensei rarely ever talked about himself and even less about his childhood. "My father was a businessman, a particularly successful one at that, who was rarely around. He enjoyed opulence, and my mother was more of a trophy than a partner, though she did handle all of the domestic affairs competently. They were a good match because they both got something out of the marriage, but the only reason they ever did anything was because societal pressure demanded it. Fighting requires you to care, or at least be present, which neither of them typically were."

I blink.

"Oh."

I don't know what else to say.

Sensei, apparently, doesn't either because he just returns to his grading.

We work for about ten minutes in silence before something niggles at the back of my mind.

"Um… Sensei?" I ask again, waiting awkwardly as Sensei finishes what he's circling and flips the page before looking up.

"Yes?"

"Do… Do you have, er… any life tips?"

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

"What?"

"Uh… nevermind," I mumble, quickly looking back at the paper on the table and feeling my entire body heat and glow. Stupid quirk. Sensei's pen doesn't immediately return to scratching, and I decisively do not look back up.

He sighs, shuffles something, and I think I can hear him rubbing his head.

I peek up.

Yep, he's definitely rubbing his forehead. My body brightens, a stupid cherry-red filling spilling out and across the room.

"Life tips," Sensei repeats, sounding like I've asked him something stupid, like if the moon was made out of cheese. "Rin, I give you life tips constantly. Respect boundaries, ask for what you want, control your emotions… What are you actually asking me?"

I blush and finger the ends of my now chin-length hair.

"I… I don't know. Hitoshi-kun just said him and… and his dad… that they talk about life tips."

When I glance over, Sensei's expression seems more knowing.

"Ah…" Sensei says, leaning back.

I really wish he wouldn't say it like that.

"I… um… never mind!"

Sensei snorts.

"What life tip would you like me to talk to you about?" he asks, shaking his head as if he finds this entire conversation ridiculous.

If anything, I'm certain my skin is about to combust.

"I… I don't know!"

He actually snorts, both eyebrows disappearing into his hair.

"You don't know," he repeats. This is a horrible idea. "So you just want me to teach you some random skill or unrelated lesson?"

I cover my face and groan.

Sensei chuckles, finding all of this way too funny.

"Sensei!"

"I'm waiting on you," he says, shuffling his papers once more and clipping them back together. "Also, don't think this gets you out of studying. You've got about 15 minutes, then it's back to work."

I…

"Yes, please?"

I sink in my chair at the weird look he gives me.

"Alright," he huffs, rolling his eyes. Then, after a moment of thinking, he stands, gesturing for me to follow. I have no idea what he's up to.

Is he going to teach me a new hold?

He walks into the living room, pulling a hairbow from his pocket to tie up his hair. I make my way in just as he sticks the hairbow in his mouth and starts twisting the long strands upward. He removes the hairbow a second later, tying the hair in a messy bun against his neck.

"Um…"

"There are six basic steps," Sensei says, shoving his hands in his pocket. "You move in a box-like formation, start with your legs together, knees slightly bent, good. Now left foot moves forward."

Sensei moves, his left foot stepping forward, and then pauses to glance my way.

I copy him exactly.

Maybe a defensive move?

"Okay?"

His lip twitches up and he slides his right foot from behind him in a diagonal to the right.

"Second step is to the right, bring your left immediately here. Make sure to bend your knee, you should sink a little."

I do exactly as he says, brows furrowing because I have no idea what we're doing with our arms, and it feels kind of stupid to learn them separately.

Sensei nods, steps back with his right foot, waits for me to do the same, and then brings the left one diagonal just like he'd done earlier with the other foot. Seeing the pattern, I move my right foot at the same time he does, finding my way back to the original position.

Sensei smirks, raising a brow.

I give him a confused look.

"What are we doing?" I ask, completely lost.

"You haven't figured it out yet?" he asks, gesturing for me to do the steps again, this time with him. He takes it slow, forward, diagonal, bend the knee, use the unbent one to step back, diagonal again. He motions to bend the right one this time and I still have no idea what's going on.

"Is it a… a type of sidestep?" I ask, baffled. "Why are we moving in a square?"

Sensei chuckles, not answering, and moves in front of me.

"Start from the backwards step. Remember to slide your right foot back."

I make a face but do.

"How is this a life tip?" I ask, looking down at our feet.

"It's a random skill," he huffs, his feet moving at the same time as mine. "Now stop looking down, your feet should move on their own. The steps are simple enough, you shouldn't need to look."

I scowl, and flush when I realize he's close enough I could lean forward and hug him.

"What are-"

"Hands?" he asks, both of his in front of him, palms up.

"This isn't a defensive maneuver, is it?" I glower, face hot as I place my hands in his. He laughs, places one of my hands on his shoulder. He stretches out the other out. I feel like an idiot, realizing this is some kind of stupid dance.

"No. It's called a box step, you're waltzing."

My skin burns.

Sensei's dark clothes are turning burgundy, reflecting the color of my probably cherry-red quirk.

"Relax," he huffs, taking bigger steps and forcing me to move wider. "And straighten your back. It's just a dance Rin, but if you want to stop, you'll need to use your words."

I want to combust.

I shake my head, chin dipping, and Sensei huffs.

"Chin up."

This is so embarrassing.

"How do you even know how to do this?" I whine, forcing my chin up and staring at Sensei's highly amused, unshaven face.

"I had tutors teach me," he smirks, raising a single brow. "Are you comfortable enough to do it with music now?"

Comfortable.

Funny.

"Sure," I mumble.

He snorts, releases me, and pulls out his phone. He scrolls through something, before finding whatever he's looking for and setting the phone on the arm of the couch. A moment later, a classical-sounding song begins spilling out.

"Alright, you start on the first beat. The song moves in counts of threes. One-two-three. One-two-three. You should hear them fairly easily. One-two-three. One-two-three. One-two-three."

I nod as the song goes, hearing the pattern.

"You're going to move with the beat. Now, hands."

With the music thumping in the background, I can feel my heart speed up.

"Ah… Okay?"

Sensei reaches forward, one hand pressing right beside my armpit and against the shoulder of my back. I hesitantly reach forward and catch his hand as a woman's voice begins singing.

"Is… Is that European?" I ask.

"French," he answers. "Now, right foot back on one. One-two-three, now-"

I step back automatically, nearly stumbling as he moves instantly to the next step, but the hand on my back keeps me moving, and I quickly shuffle my feet back into the pattern.

"Good recovery."

I open my mouth, not really sure what to say, and Sensei smiles.

It's… it's really nice. Like the darkness of the day washes away.

"I… Thank you."

He hums noncommittally and then changes the step, moving the outstretched arm up and over and I have to turn to keep up. He releases my shoulder, letting me spin, and I nearly squeak, but then the hand is back, Sensei's dark eyes sparkling.

"Sensei!"

He smirks, releases me, and returns to collect his phone. The woman's voice shuts off mid-phrase.

"Hm, it looks like your time's up. Random skill is now acquired, now back to studying."

.

.

.

Suspension is tedious.

Cleaning is dull.

Minasu is boring.

I make my way through two more days of suspension at a crawl, filling in the time I'm not cleaning or writing with random spurts of exercise and studying. The work, when not in class to understand, becomes complicated.

Thankfully, between Momo-chan, Iida, and Sensei, I don't fall too far behind.

It really only makes me appreciate them so much more.

And you almost gave it up.

I shake my head, wishing I could dislodge the entire thought.

Instead, I focus on the hospital room in front of me. Sensei had needed to return to check on the little girl with the uncontrolled quirk, on one part to complete some paperwork, but also to see if the medicine had made any progress at reducing it.

Based on the expression he's making now, it probably hadn't.

I frown, eyes trailing away from him to the green and blonde-haired boy sitting with the little girl now. Midoriya had wanted to visit, and apparently, Mirio had been involved in saving her, though why he was still wearing hospital pajamas, I wasn't sure.

Was he hurt too?

He didn't look harmed.

I sit in the hall, arms crossed and annoyed. Sensei hadn't given me a choice, as apparently Minasu was getting the day off, and I wasn't trusted enough not to get into trouble alone.

"Hoki-chan?"

I look up at the green-haired idiot now poking his head out of the room.

"Rin," I correct, probably for the millionth time. "Yes?"

"Are you sure you don't wanna come in? Eri-chan's really nice, I bet she'd like to meet another girl closer to her age!"

I remember the flash of silver hair, skin overheated and clammy. A golden horn crackling with energy.

"Her quirk is even more destructive than yours. If I step away and it gets out of hand again, because it already has twice, or if she erases the equipment that's keeping down her fever, she'll overheat and die. She's only six, Rin."

Something sharp and angry rises up in my chest just thinking about it.

I'll be back soon.

"No thank you."

Midoriya looks crestfallen.

I ignore the way he looks like a kicked puppy. I don't care. Crossing my arms, instead, I lean against the wall in the hallway and stare at the ceiling.

I didn't understand why we were back here anyways.

She was awake now, what was the problem?

Midoriya disappears back into the room, clearly picking the little silver-haired girl as well, and I just glare.

Of course, he did. She's cute and little.

They always wanted the little ones first.

I fold my legs up to my chest and wrap my arms around my knees, settling my chin on them. The younger you were, the more quickly you were adopted. Especially if you didn't have dark marks on your record.

Nobody wants a kid that doesn't behave.

If you're quiet, they'll forget you anyways.

I sit in the hallway silently, waiting for Sensei's stupid meeting to end and wishing we were back at UA instead.

.

.

.

"Is that your list?" Momo asks as she offers a dainty cup of tea. I take it, distracted by the white and blue swirls. It looks hand-painted like someone decorated it with fancy flowers. Then, remembering she asked a question, nod.

Momo giggles, leaning forward and reaching for the list Sensei had given me after that stupid hospital visit.

"Oh, look, Fat Gum's on here!"

I wrinkle my nose and take a sip.

The tea's delicious.

As for Fat Gum… It isn't that he's a bad guy or that I even particularly dislike him, but the idea of working with someone so massive…

"Fat Gum?" Kirishima shouts, looking over excitedly. "That would be so manly! He's so cool! He's got a great personality, and he's super strong too! Dude, we could be intern-partners!"

I raise my brow at that.

Intern partners?

The last thing I need is to put Kirishima in the line of my brother's danger.

"We're already classmates," I scoff, leaning on the arm of my sofa as I ignore the redhead for Momo's curious glance. "Next?"

"Aww, so mean!" Kirishima whines.

"Rin-chan sounds like Aizawa-sensei," Toru giggles, leaning on the back of Momo's chair to look over her shoulder at the list. "Who else is on here?"

"Hmm, oh! Look! It's the wild, wild pussycats!"

I don't even bother thinking about that one.

"Absolutely not."

"Well… There's Chūjirō the Crusher, he has a quirk that's rock-based, right?" Toru asks. Her clothes move, sliding back as if she's scanning the room. "Hey! Midoriya-kun! Chūjirō the Crusher has a rock-based quirk, right?"

"Ah, it's gravel-based, actually!" the boy squeaks, pausing in whatever he's talking about with Todoroki to look over curiously. "Why?"

"We're helping Rin pick a good hero to intern with!" Toru answers excitedly. "She's already said no to Fat Gum and the Pussycats already though."

Midoriya actually seems to consider that.

"She, ah… Hoki-chan probably wouldn't like working with the Crusher," the green-haired boy admits, standing and wandering over. He slides next to Toru and looks at the list Momo is still considering. "She doesn't like big heroes, they scare her."

I furrow my brows at him, not sure I remember ever telling him that.

"Oh, is that why you don't like All Might?" Momo-chan asks, her mouth opening in a pretty o.

I have no idea how to actually answer that.

He's also a stupid liar.

"Uh…"

"Fat Gum is really big too," mumbles Kirishima in the background, turned around and leaning against his chair. I can't help but wonder if maybe I should have done this on my own. "Wait… Is there a size limit?"

Yeah, if they can crush your skull effortlessly.

I don't say that though.

"What about Firebird?" Midoriya asks, pointing lower on the list. "He's from a smaller agency, but he has a fire-telekinesis quirk he uses like wings. He's kind of older, but he's supposed to be really good at natural disaster missions. He's worked on a lot of missions with Thirteen! Oh, or Flashline. He's got a medic certification, so he's really sought after because he can do emergency surgeries in-field. He used to be a paramedic, but then he got his hero license later after a villain nearly took out his patient and comrades and-"

Toru clears her throat, and I imagine if we could see her face, she'd be looking at him like he was insane.

"Who?"

"Yeah, man, I haven't heard of like any of those heroes. Are they new?"

"Oh, uh, heh, no…" Midoriya says, squeaking as he rubs his rapidly coloring neck. "They're just, um… just less high profile I guess."

I shrug, drain the rest of my tea, then lean back on my arms, studying the other boy closely.

The green-haired boy just seems to blush harder, his green eyes impossibly wide and his freckles darkening as he ducks his head.

"I wish I had thought to talk to you guys before my first intern," Momo interrupts, smiling awkwardly. "My time with Uwabami-san was… well, I would have liked to have done more."

I frown.

"What did you do?" I ask, remembering my time with Present Mic.

I wouldn't trade it for anything.

She passes Toru and Midoriya the list, who are mumbling between themselves, and gives an awkward shrug.

"Ah… I… well, it wasn't bad or anything. It was just a lot about how to, erm, promote yourself. Apparently Uwabami-san picked us because we were pretty…"

Momo flushes prettily.

"I… I just think I would have been better served learning under someone else."

I wrinkle my nose.

Someone picked her because she was pretty?

Momo-chan was a lot of things, but pretty was like at the bottom of the list.

"Then Uwabami's an idiot," I decide, huffing. Momo, still flushed, smiles shyly and I shake my head. "She should've picked you because you're smart and you know everything. Or cause you work well with everyone. Ugh."

"I-I don't know everything!"

"Debatable," Todoroki says, shuffling over and sitting in the spot beside me.

Kirishima, clearly not ready to be left out, gives up whatever he's doing on the other side of the room and finally comes and joins us. The red-head snickers at Momo and finds his own chair.

"Yeah, sorry Yaoyorozu! I'm on Rin-chan's side!"

The girl just sort of squeaks in her spot and I smile, feeling my skin lighten.

"What do you want to focus on?" Todoroki asks, tilting his head curiously. "If you want, I can ask my father if you want to intern with us."

The others make squawking noises that I ignore, and I look at the red- and-white-haired boy curiously.

"T-Todoroki-kun, your- your dad isn't on this list," Midoriya squeaks.

I furrow my brows.

"Your dad's a hero?" I ask, kind of surprised.

Toru groans, Midoriya mumbles something, and even Kirishima slaps his face.

Todoroki, for his part, just blinks.

"Yes."

"Oh…" I say, looking at him with a weird look, especially when he doesn't offer anything. I wonder if I should ask Hitoshi to teach him how to talk. "Who's your dad?"

"Endeavor."

I just stare blankly as the others make noises in the background.

"Really?"

"How do you not know the new number one?"

"Rin-chan, this is embarrassing."

Todoroki smiles though. It makes his whole face look younger.

Weird.

"Do you want me to ask?"

"No," I huff, giving him another weird look. "Sensei said to use the list. Does he have fire and ice powers too?"

"No," Todoroki says, smile falling away. "Fire."

I shrug, not really caring, and look back at my classmates.

None of them really look okay.

Why are they such weirdoes?

I sigh.

"So suggestions?"