Homeroom is almost over by the time Tulutho and I finish.

She goes over triggers, the importance of recognizing them, and what she calls coping mechanisms. She'd even pulled out a list, such as reading, coloring, and listening to music. I liked to read, but there was no way a villain was going to just stop while I finished a chapter. And while listening to music sounded better, I had a hard enough time focusing on my surroundings without the distraction.

Thankfully the rest of my classes make more sense.

And by the end of the day, I feel less… quiet.

Content.

"Rin, stay after class."

I sigh at the familiar command, waving goodbye as my classmates all disappear, Mina and Kirishima arguing over a movie for some sort of lobby movie-thon.

I just stay at my desk, propping up my chin with my right arm and blowing air noisily from my nose.

Sensei spares me a bored, half-lidded stare.

"Yes?" I ask, maybe with a little bit whiny.

Sensei rolls his eyes and stacks some papers, probably the essays we'd all just handed in on historically important judicial rulings in heroics throughout the years.

"If you remember, we started talking about it last night, but our other discussion was delayed. What did you mean about not liking waking up in different clothes?"

I tilt my head.

Oh… that.

"I just don't like waking up changed," I explain, shrugging. I reach for my bag and pull it on my desk, fiddling with one of the smaller strap.

Sensei frowns, brows furrowing.

"When do you… when have you woken up changed?"

I shrug.

"It was just that time at that warehouse."

There'd been so much going on after, it really wasn't that big of a deal. I just hadn't liked it, and waking up like that again had been… unpleasant.

"With Hizashi?" Sensei asks, sounding oddly lost.

My head snaps up, eyes wide.

"What? No! Uncle- No! I meant when they- When those people kidnapped Nee-chan! Last week! They made me get into a car and then they rolled up the windows and there must have been gas, because the man in the front was wearing a gas mask, but I couldn't stop it, and I fell asleep. And when I woke up, I was changed."

"Out of your clothes?" Sensei asks and there's something sharp and dangerous in his gaze.

I pull at the straps of my bag, suddenly nervous.

What else would be changed?

Did I do something wrong?

"Um… Yes, sir…"

His eyes narrow, nostrils flaring.

I don't want to say. I feel like I'm missing something… something important by the dark look in his expression. He doesn't ask again. Instead, I hear the angry hiss of his breath as he pulls out his phone and presses it against his ear.

"Kayama. Get down here now."

I'm pretty sure that's Aunt Nemuri's last name.

Why he's calling her, I really don't know.

There's a rapid fire of texts, Sensei's phone dinging non-stop as the man backs away to lean on the board.

Aunt Nemuri arrives within minutes, her normally expressive features sullen. Blue eyes catch mine and her brows pinch.

"Rin-chan?"

I swallow.

"What's this I hear about you losing your clothes? I thought you burned them away during the fight. What's Shouta talking about, dear?"

I lick my lips, eyes wide.

"Uh…"

Aunt Nemuri drops into Momo's seat in front of me and leans over the back. With her hero uniform on, her pronounced chest falls against my desk. She tilts her head.

"Baby girl, were those your clothes that you burned up in the fight?"

I shake my head, glancing behind her at Sensei.

He looks ominous.

Aunt Nemuri, seeing my gaze, makes a face before turning back.

"Do you want me to have Shouta leave?"

I blink rapidly, eyes widening.

"Wh-What? No!"

"Okay," the older woman smiles helpfully. "He doesn't have to. But if he makes you nervous, we can always turn this into a girl talk. Okay? You're not in trouble, we're just worried. Now tell me a little about what you woke up in…"

I frown.

"A T-shirt."

She waits, but I don't know what she's waiting for.

"Aunt Nemuri," I try again. "I… Why is Sensei so upset?"

"He's concerned you've been sexually assaulted," my aunt says, quiet.

I green.

"Wh-What? No! No, Sensei they didn't-"

Even from a distance I can see him relaxing.

I turn back to my aunt wide-eyed.

"There's no tenderness between your legs?" she asks. "You didn't wake with any kind of fluids on you? No muscle fatigue-"

"No!" I choke, face burning. "No! I was- I was just changed clothes! I- I got so mad that I burned the shirt, because they were all—they were all assholes, but they didn't- I wasn't- Sensei!"

My aunt smiles, the seriousness falling away as she reaches out fondly.

"Well, that's relieving," the woman admits. She pulls herself from the desk and looks back towards my guardian. Despite my words, he still looks… raw, in a strange way. He nods slightly before stalking out of the room. To do what, I'm not sure… "C'mon, I'll walk you back to the dorms."

I follow.

Like usual, Aunt Nemuri becomes almost immediately touchy. Fingers interlocking with my own, she squeezes, offering a pretty smile.

"It's such a beautiful day!" the dark-haired woman sighs the moment we step outside.

She isn't wrong.

With blue skies and a warm golden sun above us, it is beautiful.

I look back though, mind still stuck on Sensei.

"Why- Why would he think that?" I ask. "I- I would have told him!"

"I think he thought you were trying to," Aunt Nemuri says kindly. "Hmmm, I wonder what we could do today? It's so pretty, it'd be a shame to waste it…"

I blink, turning back to stare.

"Do?"

"It'd be a perfect day to bake!" the heroine laughs, swinging our arms. "Oh, or maybe take pictures? If we weren't stuck here at school, I'd suggest we go to the mall. We could try on a bunch of clothes and model them!"

I blush.

Last time we'd gone shopping, Sensei had gotten annoyed and bought the taco cat towel.

"We… we could bake?" I ask, feeling shy.

Aunt Nemuri beams.

"Oh! Perfect! We'll make something delicious, and we can share it with your classmates! Do you wanna make bread or cookies? I have a great recipe for lemon squares, you know? Shouta never really ate much of them, but he's not really a big fan of sweets. Oh! I know! I could teach you to make a quiche? Have you ever had one?"

I've never even heard of it.

"No."

Aunt Nemuri laughs and pulls me along.

"Perfect! They're French and a type of tart. It's got a pie crust that you fill with custard and chunks of cheese, meats, and veggies. Shouta loved it last time I made one."

It takes about five minutes to get back to the dorms, and by the time we finally make it, I'm already regretting my decision. Aunt Nemuri has no off filter. She sweeps into the dorms just like she walks into every class, announcing herself loudly and dragging me in behind her. Rambunctiously she spins in the lobby, exclaiming for everyone to hear that we're cooking French.

My classmates can't help themselves.

"French?" Lazer asks, perking up from where he'd been sitting, quietly doing his work. "Oh! Tell me more!"

"Rin-chan's cooking?" Ochako asks, mouth sliding open to water. Beside her, Mina jumps up as well, both their eyes sparkling. "This is gonna be delicious!"

"Oh man! I'm so pumped!" Kaminari shouts, jumping up and joining the other two in an impromptu dance.

My quirk blisters into life.

Iida who'd been talking to Midoriya and Todoroki, shoots to his feet.

"Thank you, Hoki-chan! Thank you, Midnight-sensei!"

A round of thank you's begin pretty quickly after and I tug my grinning godmother into the kitchen with a scowl.

"Aunt Nemuri!"

I can hear their giggles as the woman dramatically goes, draping an arm over her forehead.

"Oh no Rin-chan!"

I have only enough time to prepare myself before she's falling on me. Bent almost completely at the waist, she sags on top of me and goes limp. My knees buckle beneath the weight, arms moving automatically to catch her.

"Auntie!"

"No, Rin-chan. My heart-"

I'd drop her, but I'm pretty sure she'd just find some way to take me with her.

"Auntie, get up!"

Through the opening of the doorway, I can hear my classmates snickering. Asui even bravely wandering over, her eyes particularly bright.

"Rin-chan, you and Midnight-sensei are cute!"

I give up, releasing the older woman, and like I thought, she somehow drags me to the ground.

I groan, unable to stop the small stupid smile even as I cover my face.

"Why are you so embarrassing?" I huff, fingers drawing across my face.

"Because I love you," she giggles, shifting and twisting so we're sitting. She nuzzles my cheek before dropping a soft kiss. "Besides! Life's too short to be boring, and the more vibrant you are, the easier it is to be remembered. When you're an old lady, I want you to think back on me and smile!"

I furrow my brows.

I want you to think back on me and smile!

I turn in her hold, hands pressing against her muscled abs and knees folding to either side of her warm outstretched legs. I meet my aunt's bright blue eyes fully, watching as her pretty cheeks darken and pink.

"I'll always remember you," I promise, hoping for once my words work actually work right. "You're… you're more than family. My family didn't want me, but you did. So… So you're a choice. I'll never forget you. Ever. I promise."

Aunt Nemuri's eyes water.

I lean forward and hug her neck.

"I love you too Aunt Nemuri."

"Awww…"

"Rin-chan's so sweet!"

I scowl over Aunt Nemuri's shoulder, hair rising dangerously in a torrent of shadows.

"EEP!"

Classmates.

Ugh.

.

.

.

As it turns out, my aunt is not a good cook.

She's like a massive chao-creating gremlin. She starts making stuff without checking for ingredients, finds random things that she likes the look of and just adds them randomly. Then, when she eventually comes up empty-handed, because there's no way this doesn't happen constantly, she just starts making stuff up. No cheese? That's fine, throw in milk. Need baking soda? Oh well, we'll use baking powder.

Baking soda and baking powder are not the same.

And if you're not constantly supervising?

The giant flour powder bomb is the last straw.

"Auntie!"

Shoving her bodily from the kitchen, I turn sharply to my classmates and demand they occupy her. Kirishima actually has the nerve to look amused. I ignore him, scanning the room for the closest, most competent cook.

Bakugou lounging lazily on the couch glares back, red eyes beady.

"No."

"I didn't even ask-"

"You don't have to. Hell no. There's no way I'm attempting to salvage that mess."

Ignoring the five separate essays I've written regarding the importance of accepting that stupid two-letter word, I cross my arms and pout.

"Please?" I whine, nose wrinkling at the sheer amount of flour coming off me. "I'm… I don't want to save any of it, but will you please help me make this? Sensei's upset and I wanna make him something he actually likes. I'd do it myself, but I've never made it before!"

Bakugou scowls.

My lip trembles and he glares.

Slumping, I realize dejectedly the answer really is no.

Maybe I can make something else…

However, the idea of making him sweets he won't like makes my skin bloom blue.

"Oi, don't fucking cry."

I look up, eyes widening as the blonde picks himself up from the couch.

"R-Really?"

"You're cleaning all of this shit alone," Bakugou snaps, brusheing by with a disgusted look. I nearly trip, scurrying after him. He takes one look at the kitchen and glowers. "Fuck! How the hell does someone make this much mess?"

Considering there's flour literally everywhere, I don't know.

Yui-san would have beat someone for making this kind of mess.

I sigh, immediately moving to clean an area for the blonde to work. He snatches the wet towel from my hand though, shoving Aunt Nemuri's weird brown and red liquid concoction at me instead.

"Here. Dispose of this."

I do so gladly.

Washing the length of his table, Bakugou immediately gets to work. He checks through the fridge, pulling out butter, eggs, cream, and milk. Checking the cabinets he shuffles around for shortening, flour, and then salt, grabbing pepper and then back to the fridge, collecting kale, cheese, and ham.

"It has a crust," the blonde says flatly, dragging out all of the ingredients. "You got any dough already pre-made?"

I shake my head.

"No."

"Then there's no fucking way."

I blink, eyes widening as he puts away some of the ingredients and leaves others.

"What are you-"

"Improvising," the blonde snaps, glaring at all the materials around him. "You can have a fucking frittata. It's the same damn thing without some shitty crust."

My lips make an o, and Bakugou steadily ignores me.

Instead, the blonde measures and pours, keeping the ingredients exactly where they're supposed to. He mixes eggs, milk, garlic, salt and pepper into a giant bowl, whisking them and scowling. I clean as he does, washing down surfaces, spraying off pots and bowls.

It's… nice, working with someone who doesn't need to constantly chat.

Bakugou begins heating up a skillet as I finish cleaning everything in easy reach. To get the top of the cabinets, I use my quirk, forming shadowy hands and focusing to make them clean.

Bakugou watches, silent. His eyes beady eyes narrowed in on the long, stretch of my quirk's arms. I almost ask him why, but don't. Part of me wonders if he remembers them attacking his head. If looking at the hurts.

The guilt of that, of his injuries hits me suddenly.

"Bakugou-kun-"

"Don't."

I frown, brows pinching as the darkness dissolves. I take back the rag, rinsing and wringing it in the sink.

"You don't even-"

"You're gonna apologize," he scowls, red eyes meeting mine. He glowers, nose wrinkling, before turning back to his skillet. "I don't want some dumbass apology. Your shitty-ass quirk couldn't stop me even if you wanted it to. So stop all that damn crying."

He tosses a tough a handful of vegetables on the skillet and starts chopping.

Unlike my classmates, his pieces are even and well sliced.

"Filling's done. You just need to cook the damn veggies and then add the egg and cheese."

He reaches forward, fiddling with the burners and I notice the dial on the oven at 400.

"Don't overcook it or it's soggy or burnt as hell. You bake it for like 15 minutes or some shit in the oven. Don't be a dumbass and burn your fucking hand."

He turns then, narrowed eyes sharp.

"Those extras were talking about you joining a hero work study…"

I nod.

"Sensei gave me a list to choose from," I admit, reaching into my pocket and pulling out the well-worn paper. I'm not sure what I expect, but Bakugou takes it. Unfolding it, he scowls.

"Who the hell picked these losers?" Bakugou asks, nose wrinkling.

I smile.

"Sensei."

Duh.

The blonde rolls his eyes and backs away. I take over at the oven instead, quickly washing my hands and moving the meat and vegetables. It looks pretty well cooked, just enough that it's not raw, but not burnt or limp. I pour the egg mix in and sprinkle with cheese.

"There's only one person on this list worth wasting your time."

Moving the now heavy skillet to the oven, I get started on the next pan. After all, there was no way one skillet was going to feed my hungry classmates.

"Who?" I ask, buttering a pan before adding vegetables to sear. Bakugou had really made it easy enough anyone could cook this.

The blonde passes me back the list with a huff.

"Tch, Kamui Woods. The rest of that list is nothing but some shitty d-listers. At least he's number seven. Bastard's the only one on there within the top thirty."

I blink, eyes scrolling across the page.

Oh.

Number… seven?

All Might had been number one, hadn't he?

That made him… That made him tough, didn't it?

Tough enough to face Kaito and a villainous hero?

"Thank you," I say, looking over seriously. For the food and the help.

"Hmph. Whatever."

.

.

.

When Sensei comes in, Aunt Nemuri and I have relocated to the living room. She stretches out with me on the floor, a bottle of nail polish between us borrowed from Mina earlier. She paints my toenails chrome, the shininess of the polish gleaming with weird little cotton balls stuck between my toes.

I'm really not certain the cotton balls are necessary…

But I beam, mouth half full of the delicious frittata at Sensei.

"—Daddy!"

Sensei, in the process of removing his boots, freezes mid-motion.

Eyes wide, his head jerks in my direction.

I hold out my phone, swallowing down the last of that bite and showing him a video of a giant gray and white tabby pawing cutely on the screen.

"Look! Sensei! It's Miska's Daddy!"

He stares.

Aunt Nemuri, still stretched out beside me, breaks into loud, snorting giggles. I give her a look, pulling the phone back to my chest.

Really?

I know it was cute, but to that point?

She's such a weirdo.

Sensei grunts, shoves off the boots, and I turn back to find him stalking down the hall towards his room.

"Shouta-"

"I'm going to change," he says flatly.

He sounds annoyed. Aunt Nemuri really doesn't help.

She takes one look at me, at the cat picture still on the phone, and falls over laughing. I sigh, feeling particularly long-suffering. There was something decisively wrong with her.

"Are you okay?"

No.

I give up when my toenails dry, picking the cotton from between my digits and heading instead to the kitchen. I wash my hands, listening to the shower run, and move to heat some of Sensei's favorite veggies. Everyone had really enjoyed the frittatas. Well… Laser had complained that it wasn't French, but he'd still eaten every bite!

I turn on the oven as I cook, well aware it heats faster than most.

Then, whisking up the last of the egg filling, I pour it across the skillet before passing the entire thing into the oven.

Sensei finishes with perfect timing. He steps out of the shower just as my timer goes off. I hurry to pull the skillet out, careful to cover the handle twice before setting the sizzling food atop the oven to cool. Sensei wanders over, dressed casually in his dark soft clothes with his wet hair tied back off his neck.

"What have you two been doing?" he asks, eyes raking from the giant skillet of egg to my toes warily. "Have you gotten any studying or homework done?"

I flush, reach for the plate, and flip the entire mass upside down.

Sensei's frittata comes out as perfectly as all the others.

"Ahh…"

"So no," he says dryly, turning his head lazily towards my aunt. "Are you… Is that one of my shirts?"

"Of course," the woman giggles, propping herself lazily against the couch. Stretching out her legs, she exposes the dark fabric boxers she'd confiscated as well.

Face burning, I quickly turn back to finishing Sensei's plate.

I can't believe she stole his underwear—and then put it on!

Sensei sighs, not seeming particularly surprised.

Then, reaching around me, collects the plate and spatula from my hand.

"That's enough," he says flatly, sounding exasperated. "Go study, or you can start on that English homework Hizashi assigned you all for Thursday."

I pout, especially when he sets the plate aside and steps away.

"But…"

He eyes me narrowly, one brow rising.

"Yes?"

I swallow.

"But it'll get cold…"

Sensei blinks, gaze shifting from me to the plate still steaming and back.

"I'll eat it when it cools," he promises, patting my head. "Now go study, before you run out of time and have to go to bed."

Wanting to be obedient, I hurry quickly to my room. It doesn't take long, collecting my things and returning to the dinner table. Sensei, strangely, wanders over to talk to my aunt, sitting on the couch even though she's wearing almost nothing at all.

You can see her nipples through that!

I flush and scowl, trying quickly to reign in my quirk when the adults glance my way.

"Rin," Sensei warns.

I hunch, opening my book and looking down with as serious of an expression as I can muster. In the living room I can hear my godmother's giggles. I try to focus, instead pulling out the paragraph Uncle Zashi had assigned for translation.

"…are you here? You know you could have called the sitter."

"…missed. She's so sweet."

I relax as I work on the translations, mind focusing on conjugating verbs and remembering the syntax. It's… It's not that hard, cause Uncle Zashi talks in English almost the entire class, I can sort of hear the phrases and the way he says them. It's just the adjectives that give me trouble. Apparently there's a certain order you're supposed to put them and I always have to look.

I dig through my notes, trying to find the paper Momo-chan had given me for those days I wasn't there.

"… wrong?"

"… can't stop thinking. It's- It's all my fault."

I pause, finding the sheet but unable to not hear my aunt's soft words.

"I saw him, he was near cataconic. And… Shouta… it's all my fault. If I hadn't—I recommended that horrid internship. I suggested."

"Nemuri..."

I peek up, looking through dark bangs at the sad-looking woman. She stares forward, chin resting against her knees.

"I know," she sighs. "I'd have gone to Hizashi's, but he's got his boyfriend over. If it's as serious as it sound, he's probably about to move in. And… And I know it hasn't been any easier for him. He feels just as responsible, it was his quirk…"

They sit in silence, and I find myself staring down at my paper, confused.

Catatonic?

Uncle Zashi has a boyfriend?

Responsible?

Something rustles on the couch, and I duck my head, hurriedly looking over my work with unseeing eyes. The words look like useless squiggles and concentrating on it feels a million miles away.

"Rin," Sensei sighs, the warmth of his hand falling on my head. I look up, unsurprised to see him staring down sourly. "Go study in your room, where you can actually study."

I blush.

"But… But your food's cool!"

Sensei stares, completely unimpressed, before sighing and taking the plate. He collects a set of utensils and breaks a piece off, eating it with a bland expression.

"Delicious," he deadpans, setting the plate back down where he found it. "Now go study. If I have to remind you again, we're going to be having a different conversation, particularly about expectations when I'm not here and what you're expected to do."

He waits, arms folding across his chest, and I reluctantly gather my things and move.

"Fine," I grumble.

He watches as I grab my armful of stuff and follows me to my room, giving me a particular look when I dump it all sourly on my desk. He exhales loudly, leaning against my doorframe and frowning.

"Set a timer," he huffs. "Fifteen more minutes on the English, ten or so on whatever subject you think you need, and then you can start on my essay. I want a page on what constitutes important information."

I sag.

"You mean about the clothes thing?" I ask.

Sensei scowls.

"Exactly like the clothes thing," he says, and even now, there's still an underlying current of anger. He opens his mouth, pauses, and shuts it a second later. Taking a deep breath, he looks out of the room and down the hall. "We'll discuss it later when you finish. Now set your timer and get to work."

I sigh but grab my phone and set the timer.

I work through both timers, finish my essay and finally stand and stretch. Padding out into the living room, I guess I forget that Aunt Nemuri is even still here. So finding her lazing about the couch, still wearing Sensei's oversized shirt and- and underwear, I stop and-

"Finished?" Sensei asks.

I feel like I've walked into something very, very strange.

My guardian doesn't like touchiness. He doesn't like people hugging or laying on him.

So why is she snuggled up against him like that?

"Rin," Sensei asks again, and I snap out of my stare to look at him, feeling brows knit together. He reaches out, not pushing the dark-haired woman away, and gestures for my paper. And- And Aunt Nemuri only seems to snuggle closer, resting her face against her arm and looking up curiously and- and-

I hand him the paper automatically.

It doesn't stop the strange cycle of emotions welling up at the sight of the two of them. Of Aunt Nemuri buried under my blanket and-

"Is she spending the night?" I blurt.

She'd yet to put her clothes back on and she was just sitting there and I wasn't really even sure why she'd taken them off to begin with, but-

"Yes," Sensei says, as if this was normal or okay. He pulls a pen from one of his pockets and sighs.

"Oh, that's not-"

They're saying something. I can barely hear it though, eyes focused on their lazy motions, the way she hangs on him.

I stare.

Are… were they…

Adults only stayed the night for one reason, Kagura-nee-chan liked to talk about it all the time.

"Are- Are you having sex?" I squeak.

I've never seen Sensei go rigid so fast.

"Excuse me?"

Aunt Nemuri, like typical, busts out laughing.

I can only stare in horror.

"Is that a yes?" I ask, nose wrinkling in sudden disgust. "B-But she's my aunt! Why? And- And I thought you were dating that clown!"

Sensei's eye twitches.

"Emi?" my godmother chokes out, mid-laugh. "Oh my gosh! What?"

"Rin," Sensei scowls, shoving the laughing woman off him. "Nemuri, shut up. Rin, come here. Now."

My aunt slides from the couch to the floor, still giggling ridiculously, and I step over her to follow directions, wrinkling my nose at both of them.

"That's gross," I tell him in no uncertain terms.

His whole expression twitches.

"I am not having sex with Nemuri."

I scowl, arms wrapping across my chest.

"You're the one that said you'd had sex before-"

"Oh my gosh! You told her about you and Z-"

"Kayama!" Sensei snaps, cheeks actually pinking. He shoves the woman on the floor with his foot, and in a lightning-fast motion, reaches out and pulls me onto the couch with him. I gawk. "Rin, stop making shit up based on your imagination. I'm not having sex with anyone. I'm not interested, I don't have the time, and your nonsense takes up enough of my time. She's sleeping on the couch. And stop calling Ms. Joke a clown or you'll be writing her an apology letter, do you understand?"

I pout.

"Rin?"

"I- I get it!" I squeak, flushing as the man levels me with a sharp gaze. "I mean yes, sir."

"Good," he huffs, shaking his head and glowering down at the paper I'd written. He seems to try and concentrate on it, but just scowls. Pushing it to the side, he narrows his eyes at me. "Did you finish studying?"

"Yes," I bite out a little more sharply than necessary.

Sensei scowls.

"Sir."

"We'll discuss this tomorrow. There isn't enough time tonight and I expect you to come directly home after class and get to work. Minasu will be here when you arrive. Did you pick out a hero to intern with?"

I give him a sour look.

"Yes."

He raises an eyebrow, and when I don't say anything, sighs.

"Okay, who did you pick?"

"Kamui Woods."

Sensei blinks at that, brows furrowing.

"I see."

I scowl, not understanding that look at all.

"Is it wrong?"

"No," Sensei says, running a hand through his long hair. "There isn't a right or wrong choice Rin. I just hadn't expected you to pick him. It's fine, he's very heavy in the media, so it'll probably do you some good. Now, it's almost time for bed. Go brush your teeth and get ready."

I glower down at the woman sprawled lazily in my guardian's clothes.

"Are you wearing that to class tomorrow?"

My aunt's face actually lights up.

"Rin," Sensei huffs, voice crackling with annoyance.

I 'hmph' and stalk from the room. Behind me, I can hear my aunt's laughter and Sensei's muttered annoyance. I don't care, working through all my bedtime routines and preparing everything for tomorrow.

Sensei comes in just as I slide under the covers.

"Is your phone plugged in?"

I scoot over, making enough room for him to sit, and yawn.

"Y-Yes… excuse me."

He smiles, that little smile that he reserves mostly for home. Taking the spot, the bed shifts and dips and he reaches forward smoothing down my hair.

"Good."

He leans in, completing the nightly ritual, and I smile at the smell of him, loving the way his sharp facial hair brushes across my skin and the warm touch of his breath as he kisses my forehead. It's… It's probably my favorite part of the day.

"Sensei?"

"Hm?"

I sink into the sheets and stare up at him.

"She's not really gonna sleep on the couch, is she?"

Sensei's smile sours instantly.

"Goodnight Rin."

I huff as he stands. The lights flick off, and I sleepily make a note to check the living room in the morning.