Takuma was feeling out of sorts after sharing some of his past with Mei. He didn't know why, but afterward, he was left with the feeling that something deeply wrong had happened, and he was stumped at pinpointing exactly what made him feel that way.

He had shared some of his past and explained how his Quirk could be used to turn someone into a puppet without much resistance. To his surprise, Mei hadn't even been scared of him. She was too smart to ignore the fact she was living close to a person that could rip apart her individuality and shape her to his want without even breaking a sweat. And that was without even getting into the part of his Quirk that let him rewrite, delete, or create memory. He had hidden that part of his ability from the entire world; not a single person knew about it. Mei had heard him clearly state what he could do and hadn't even blinked twice before calling him a Hero. He didn't know how much he wanted someone to accept this part of him with no strings attached until she did.

So unless he had an epiphany on the subject, he didn't think this was what caused him to feel wrong in some way.

The physical aspect of their exchange had been comfortable; he enjoyed being close to her, and the fact that she seemed to feel the same way made the closeness even more fulfilling. During their exchange, he couldn't remember her doing anything that could have triggered his aversion toward more intimate subjects. She had kept her hand far above the belt, and he hadn't felt her groping around even when she could have absolutely tried.

As far as his introspection allowed him to look for inconsistencies, he couldn't find anything out of the ordinary. His Quirk didn't seem to be the cause of his discomfort. So even after two hours, he still had no idea why he felt like he was missing something important.

Food was hot and ready by the time she woke up from her power nap, and he could tell she was still reeling from the discussion they had on their upbringing and parents, or lack thereof in his case. He didn't need his Quirk to know the way she had broken down was something long coming, and his question had burst the dam in a way both of them couldn't have predicted. Mei had left her room and was now watching him from the hallway, cleaning the pan he had used to make dinner. He could have said anything to make her aware he knew she was there, but he decided to stay quiet and let her show herself when she was ready. He didn't want to push her, and if he couldn't ignore the fact that she was standing behind him, he could at least act like he didn't.

He kept washing the pan and other utensils he had used for the late dinner they were about to have. Takuma made sure to slow down just enough to give his friend just a bit more time to get her head on straight. He had the time to wash the same pan three times before she decided to walk into the living room and then into the kitchen; her steps were light, but to him, it was the same as having eyes on the back of his head. She stopped behind him, and he understood what she was doing when she hugged him while resting her head against his back.

Takuma stilled for a second, a way to help him process the mix of emotions that came pouring out of his shorter friend. It was a powerful cocktail he wasn't used to experiencing: contentment, melancholy, fear, and hope. He couldn't quite place which one was the most prominent one in the pot, and prying was against his rule, so he simply worked her feelings out from behind his wall and closed the metaphorical door behind them. Only after doing this could he appreciate how hard Mei was holding him and how happy that made him; he couldn't imagine growing tired of it. After getting himself back under control, he finally washed the last plate and stored it on the rack to dry.

"Feeling better?"

He could feel her nod against his back, and Takuma chuckled while shaking his head. He made to turn, and unsurprisingly, Mei lessened her grip on his midsection, allowing him to face her. He returned the embrace, one hand on her back and the other behind her neck. He felt her shiver under his touch and the tingling in her spine he sometimes felt came back with a vengeance as her breath picked up, and he swore she started melting in his arms. He wasn't much better as he nearly started doing breathing exercises just to help him parse what he was feeling from the simple contact.

Takuma enjoyed every second of the few minutes they shared in companionable silence.

"Let's wait a bit before going ceiling-gazing again," she mumbled after some time had passed.

"It did get out of hand," he agreed easily. "Its wisdom was simply too much for us simple mortals."

He felt her quiver against him as she tried to hold back a laugh. "My pleas were answered," she said with a smile in her voice. "I didn't think crying would knock me out like that."

'Still embarrassed.'

"Crying was the last straw, but I think your nightly burst of creativity the last three days is the main factor," he reminded her. "You're running low on sleep again."

She let out a dejected groan. "I woke you up?"

"I'm a light sleeper," he told her. "And also you keep banging your toes everywhere."

She giggled nicely against him. "I was so excited about an idea I forgot my phone and didn't take the time to turn the light on."

"Three nights in a row?"

"...yes?"

His chest vibrated with laughter, and he didn't stop until his ribs started to hurt. "You're impossible."

He felt her heart pick up from how close they were. "You like impossible."

"I do," he repeated the little exchange they had a few hours ago, this time he was confronted with a wave of glee he wasn't prepared to feel, and he had to take a few seconds to deal with her emotion. "I would also like you to eat something before the food gets cold."

She hummed for a bit, and he took it for a sign of agreement. He didn't push her after that, letting her let go of the hug on her own terms. "You're comfy."

"That's not the worst compliment I've ever received," he chuckled warmly. "You're comfy too."

"It's the chocolate."

"Then we need more chocolate."

"More chocolate?"

"More chocolate."

"Yeah!" she giggled before taking a steadying breath and slowly and with difficulty letting go, distancing herself from the hug. "Thanks, I needed that."

"Don't worry, hugging is good for the soul."

"And where did you find that tidbit of wisdom?"

"The ceiling," he deadpanned to the shock of Mei, who started a nervous giggle that slowly turned into full-blown laughter. "Got you," he added with a smile.

Takuma set up the plate as Mei fought herself to regain some sense of composure. He served her and himself before putting a dishcloth over the still-steaming pork and rice. And like clockwork, his friend only realized how hungry she was when the food was right under her nose. Eating a few bites himself, he was happy to notice he had succeeded at making a half-decent meal; the spices were just right and didn't overpower the taste of the meat like the last few times. It wasn't much on any scale, but to him, it was a small victory. Practice makes perfect, and Takuma had practiced like never before this past month.

"This is so good." Mei...moaned?

Looking at his host, he was surprised to see her licking the plate. "You didn't eat at school, did you?" he sighed, knowing full well his cooking wasn't anywhere near good enough to receive this kind of praise.

"Nope."

"There's enough for seconds and thirds," he shrugged. It wasn't the first time Mei decided that basic subsistence was less interesting than making babies, so he wasn't even surprised over her nonchalant response.

"You were too busy working again?"

"The water heater broke again!" she told him with a beaming smile. "It was an easy fix. I can't understand why they keep buying cheap material. Then I took some time to fix the door that was holding on for dear life, and one of the windows was broken, so since they already had a replacement on hand, I did that too."

"I hope they thanked you for your work."

"Nope, I took too long and missed a class, so they gave me detention and an essay to write about punctuality and respecting the time of my teacher," she groused with a dejected sigh.

"Your school is run by assholes," he growled, already annoyed at the staff's stupidity.

Dealing with someone with ADHD wasn't rocket science.

"Eh, they're okay most of the time," she downplayed with a shrug. "And as soon as the year is done, I'm off to U.A where the teachers are all Pro-Heroes. I can survive five more months."

"I still feel the need to break into your teacher's car and drive into a river," he hummed, only half-serious.

"You know how to start a car without the key?" Mei asked with a spark of interest in her eyes. "That was one of the first things my mom ever taught me!"

"One of the old guard taught me how to do it. A retired Yakuza from the time All Might wasn't even a Hero yet," he recalled as he started to roll his shoulders to work out the sudden tenseness he was feeling. "He used to run workshops for the kids and some of the newer blood."

"Workshops, like criminal workshops?" his friend questioned, intrigued.

"Yes, those could be pretty fun. Some criminals lived long enough to retire, and there's a few well-known gangs that offer lessons. Not from the goodness of their heart, of course, since it helps get the new blood up-and-running quicker than teaching them on the job," he told her with a small wistful smile. "I used to go to the one offered by The Red Axe gang."

Mei stopped eating for a second. "The name is not really reassuring."

He nodded, agreeing with her. "And surprisingly enough, they were one of the most honorable and down-to-earth criminals I ever encountered. Most of their business worked around buying stolen cars and selling the parts online or through word of mouth. Of course, they also sold drugs, but most gangs do anyway."

"Not something I would have expected from a gang with a name like that."

"It's kind of the point; it's pretty hard to be intimidating if you're working for...I don't know, Bunny Buns or Wet Dog and Son. Having a name that leaves little to the imagination keeps most of their sellers in line. Add an axe painted red here and there for good measure, and you have the basis for a good reputation until you are more established," he explained. "The underworld isn't the best place to be original; a name that makes it clear you aren't to be messed with is a basic necessity if you're dipping your toes in organized crime."

"Branding matters even for criminals," she hummed.

"It's an important facet of it, but it's not as important as actually being able to fight and defend yourself if someone tries to expand into your territory. Gang wars are a nightmare for everyone and even worse for the homeless," he recalled bitterly. "I got caught in one once. Woke up in the middle of the night from my spot on a rooftop with a bunch of gangbangers tearing each other apart down below. That's not a night I will ever forget."

This was the night he discovered what dying felt like, again and again, until he was too insane to recognize his surroundings.

"You are not getting caught in any gang war as long as you are living under my roof, mister," she chided him with a fork pointed threateningly toward him. "And if you do, you better bring me the shock-maul baby for a test run."

"Testing will have to wait until I'm not hopping around on one foot," he sighed, still very much aware he had at least three more days of twiddling his thumbs. "Bucky is going to get lonely."

"Did you name your bucket?" Mei asked, and he met her eyes as her smile turned feral like a cat about to pounce.

Takuma fought hard not to blush, until he did and looked away. "...no?"

"This-"

"Don't do it," he begged her, knowing full well what she was about to say.

"-is the cutest thing I've ever heard!" she cooed as he begged for a hole to open up under him and swallow him whole. "I need a nameplate, oh, and we need a name for the mop!"

"Mopy," he informed her, accepting his fate.

It took Mei an hour to calm down from her giggle fit. It would take Takuma more than one lifetime to work out the embarrassment.