Artwork done by me. 

Live for yourself. You are absolutely worth every breath.

Beta: emplatinum

◟(◕◡◕❀)

"Okay, then, we'll be continuing regular classes starting today," Aizawa began the following morning. "A lot of unprecedented things happened, but you'll need to switch gears and focus on your duties as students. We'll be staying inside the classroom today, but this semester you'll have even harsher training than before."

Today was the official day classes returned to normal. The "classes" immediately after the licensing exam had been exclusively used to go over what we had experienced during the exam, and areas we could improve on. Apparently Aizawa had recorded the entire process, and had us watch how we acted and discuss how we could do better.

Although most of that was a blur since yesterday I had been running on little sleep and was tuckered out from sparring with Katsuki.

Today...

Today was also a sleep-deprived today.

I stayed true to my word and stayed beside my exhausted friend throughout the night. It did get a little boring after the first hour, so I ended up reading some of his books out loud. He seemed to sleep a bit easier while I was doing so, so I did that for basically the rest of the entire night.

So.

Now I was running on a grand total of five hours of sleep in the past forty eight hours, and my throat was raw from talking for several hours straight.

I did not want to go to class that day, at all. I did not want to do anything but crawl into a bed and sleep.

But I hadn't missed a day, yet, and with Izuku and Katsuki under house arrest someone ought to take notes for them. Especially some heavily detail-oriented notes for Izuku since the fanboy would undoubtedly be suffering from not being able to see and hear everything for himself.

I chugged several cans of energy drinks, feeling my entire body buzz from jitters, and forced myself to pay attention.

Tsuyu raised her hand. "I'm sorry, Sensei, but may I ask a question? Can you tell us what the hero work studies that came up earlier is about?"

Hero work studies.

Earlier that day Shishou had given the entrance ceremony speech. I had not paid much attention to it—choosing instead to record it with my pocket audio recorder so that I could listen to it later.

In my defense, I hadn't had my energy drinks yet and was nearly falling over myself trying not to sleep on Shōto's shoulders.

There was some chattering amongst the students about Tsuyu's question and Momo raised her hand. "He said it was something many of the upperclassmen are engaged in."

Aizawa scratched the back of his head. "I was planning to talk more about those at a later date, but I guess telling you guys now is more logical. To put it simply, they're hero activities outside of school. Like the internships you did under heroes before, only closer to the real thing."

Ochaco let out a shriek, leaping up from her desk. "Then why did I work so hard at the sports festival?!"

Tenya frowned. "That's true. If we have work studies, then even those who didn't get scouted at the sports festival would have paths open up for them."

Cactus-Sensei sighed. "The hero work studies use the scouting from the sports festival as connections. This isn't part of a class, but an activity done at the discretion of the student. So those who weren't scouted at the sports festival would have a hard time lining one up to begin with. Originally, individual agencies recruited on their own, but there were many complications with trying to get U.A. students to join, so it ended up being like this. If you understand, sit down."

"Sorry for jumping to conclusions," Ochaco meekly apologized, sitting back down.

"Now that you have your provisional licenses you can assist in more real ways for longer periods of time. But there haven't been many cases where first years have received their provisional licenses. With the increased villain activity we are currently thinking seriously about your participation. Well, we'll have you hear more about what it's like and explain in further detail at a later date. We've got our own circumstances to consider. Well then, sorry to keep you waiting, Mic."

As I continued to rapidly transcribe everything that had been said, the front door to the classroom opened up as Present Mic stepped in. "First period is English! In other words, my time!"

◟(◕◡◕❀)

When classes were done for the day, I stumbled over to my best friend, Shōto and tiredly asked, "May I pretty please sleep with you tonight?"

"Of course," he reassured me, and I about cried tears of relief at the thought of being able to sleep a full eight hours.

"Can we—Can we go to bed early?"

"Let's grab some dinner, and we can watch movies until you fall asleep," he suggested.

"Bless you," I whispered.

Shōto peered at me for a moment. "On second thought, go get changed into your pajamas and I'll bring dinner to the room."

"I love you."

"I know."

◟(◕◡◕❀)

I straight up passed out while eating the dinner. No clue what happened, but we were watching Kaguya-sama and I was mid-bite in some fried chicken and then... nothing.

(Shōto would later tell me that he turned around to see me snoring with a piece of chicken sticking out of my mouth and he immediately took a picture and sent it to Ochaco and Izuku.

This picture is now my profile picture on their phones. I will never live it down.)

Nothing faded away into golden light, and the light shined as memories and fantasies began to intermingle with one another.

Happy, childish laughter filled my dreams that night. Small humans running to me with tiny outstretched hands and calling out for Momma!

Joy, and love touched my dreams that night. Baba and Papa were there, watching on with such happy smiles as I introduced them to my future children. As I introduced them to my husband—

I woke up curled up in Shōto's arms, my nose buried in his chest. The surprisingly sweet dream of having children of my own slowly drifted out of my mind, leaving behind a warm, bubbly feeling. It was such a pleasant feeling, it brought a smile to my face and made me unintentionally nuzzle into Shōto like he was a big pillow.

Shōto, still asleep, let out a soft sigh.

'It'd be nice to stay like this,' I thought wistfully. 'But that might be a bit too selfish of me.'

Reluctantly, I untangled myself from my cuddle buddy, giving him a chaste kiss on the cheek before sitting up and stretching.

'Ah. I haven't had sleep that good in a while. What a great dream!'

To be honest I was tempted to just lay back down and keep sleeping in an attempt to relive that fantasy. It'd been ages since I had such a happy dream, and I was genuinely giddy over it. The gentle warmth bloomed inside the pit of my stomach, and kept my smile from dropping.

"Good morning," mumbled a groggy Shōto from beside me. Still half-asleep, he started to rub at his eyes. "You're... smiling."

"Mm-hmm. I had a great sleep, thank you very much."

"Mn." Shōto yawned, slowly pushing himself up. "Any dreams?"

"Actually had a really happy one," I exclaimed. "I dreamed about having my family! We were on the farm, too."

"Oh," came Shōto, rubbing his face before he yawned again—and unfortunately it made me yawn, too. "That's great. Were there five million kids?"

I laughed. "Nah! Just three."

"Any names?"

I scratched my cheek at that, making a face as I tried to remember. "Don't remember the details, to be honest. I tend to forget most of my dreams when I wake up, and only have vague impressions of them."

Shōto gave a small nod of acknowledgement, leaning on my shoulder as he struggled to wake up. "Mn."

Still smiling, I rubbed Shōto's back and gave him a kiss on top of his head. "C'mon, buddy! Time to go to school."

"Or not," Shōto suggested. "Sleep seems good."

"Sleep is very good," I agreed, "but we can do that after school."

"Are you going to sleep here again tonight?"

"If you don't mind?"

"Not at all."

◟(◕◡◕❀)

Three days passed. I took detailed notes of everything that transpired in class, and when Izuku's house arrest was up, I gave him the copies. He profusely thanked me after apologizing for the trouble he caused, but I brushed him off.

He was one of my dearest friends. Taking notes was such a minor thing to do for him, it really didn't require any thanks.

I had also chosen to sleep with Shōto for the past few nights. It was decided that I'd try to sleep on my own Fridays and Saturdays, since we didn't have school the following days so I could nap throughout the day if I had to stay up. Shōto thought it was fine to just keep sharing the bed with him, but I didn't want to burden him any more so. I had already woken him up plenty of times from my night terrors.

(Let it be noted that Aizawa knew about the sleeping arrangements but politely pretended not to. He had to know in case of emergency, but he also understood I was... not entirely okay. For the moment, I really couldn't handle an entire night alone. As long as I made the effort to heal, though, he would overlook this infringement.)

At the start of class that day, Shōto began with, "Now that Midoriya-kun is back we'll go into more detail about the work studies. Please come in. We'll have people who experienced it first hand explain it to you."

The front door of the classroom opened up and in stepped three older students. I recognized them immediately as the Big Three.

I knew them in an off-handed way. I had run into them a few times while during errands for Nezu, but I didn't really know them. They were upperclassmen and I was discouraged from bothering the students too much, even if the students approached me first.

Nezu was proud of them, that much I knew, and they weren't star students in their first year. If anything, they barely scraped by in their first year, made it partway through their second, and shot to stardom in their third. It was an impressive climb, and anyone who could show that amount of growth in such a short period of time deserved respect.

I knew their Quirks, too.

(I knew that soul.)

"Go ahead and introduce yourself. Amajiki, you go first."

The student on the far right was a lanky boy with black hair that vaguely reminded me of a duck's bottom. He raised his gaze, giving the class one intense look of sheer concentration before immediately losing his nerve and turning around. He was muttering something, but I couldn't hear it.

Amajiki pressed his head into the wall behind him, quivering from what was plainly social anxiety.

Ah. I'm glad Nezu made me get a job at a maid cafe, I thought while looking sympathetically at the shy boy.

"Oh, listen, Amajiki-kun!" exclaimed the girl with long pale blue hair. "That's called having the heart of a flea. Even though you're a human, how strange." Hado, the girl, turned to the class and gestured to the trembling boy. "This is the flea, Tamaki Amajiki. I'm Nejire Hado. We were asked to talk to you guys about work studies. But hey..."

Hado blinked once, twice, then began to approach the students. "Hey, hey, why are you wearing a mask? Are you sick? Ah! You must be Todoroki-kun. How did you get burned right there? Kiyomi-kun, where do you keep your wand when you fight? Ashido-kun, if your horns break off will new ones grow in? Huh? Mineta-kun, are those balls of yours hair? How do you get a haircut? Asui-kun, you're a tree frog, not a toad, right? Ah, there's so much I want to know about you all."

She's kind of like a preschooler, I thought.

As Hado began to let out a stream of more questions, Aizawa glowered darkly behind her. "Isn't this irrational?"

Mirio, the final student of the Big Three, was a tall, athletic young man with slick blond hair and dark blue eyes. He flushed upon noticing Aizawa's growing anger and rushed to say, "No need to worry, Eraser Head! I'll wrap things up. The future's gonna be...?"

The class stared blankly at Mirio, no one certain how to answer that question.

(Awkward as ever, but always so bright. Young one, do you remember us?)

(Do you remember playing with us?)

"Grim! That's what you're supposed to say," Mirio exclaimed with a massive grin. "All right, my call-and-response was a huge fail! Well you all look like you don't really know what's going on. We're third years who suddenly appeared to explain about work studies that aren't even required. That's confusing, right? Hmm. You guys got your provisional licenses as first years, right? This year's first years are really... energetic, right? Besides, it looked like my jokes didn't work earlier, right? Why don't you all fight me at once?"

"Eh?"

"What?"

"Uh..."

"That's the most logical way to have you guys experience our experience, right, Eraser Head?"

"Do what you want," Aizawa sighed.

◟(◕◡◕❀)

'Fighting Mirio, huh?' I thought to myself, considering how to handle this situation.

(What sweet memories, little one.)

He can phase in and out of objects, in addition he can launch himself from the phasing with such ridiculous speed it's almost like teleporting.

But like all those who phase in and out of reality, in order to attack his entire body must be solid. It would be in those moments that we would have to attack.

I knew he was skillful. I knew he was not someone to underestimate.

(Can he play?)

To be honest, I wished I could have a chance to fight him one on one instead of with my classmates. I knew their strengths, and weaknesses, and so I knew this battle would largely be one-sided win for Mirio. Izuku would likely be able to find Mirio's weakness, but I didn't think for an instant he'd be able to land a solid hit.

Izuku simply lacked the experience and skill Mirio had acquired.

They all did.

Even Shōto and Katsuki would be hard-pressed to land a hit. That being said, if Shōto kept himself engulfed in flames during the fight, Mirio would find it difficult to blatantly attack him.

Should I tell them? I wondered as we finished getting dressed and headed to the designated gymnasium. Should I tell them what Mirio is capable of?

It might help them.

But it certainly wouldn't turn the tides in their favor. Barely half of my classmates had even received official hand-to-hand combat training, and even less had reflexes honed enough to deal with such a fast-moving target.

They were children.

(So is Mirio)

'This might be a good chance for them to experience a loss, though,' I thought to myself. 'It's a safe environment, Mirio won't be cruel to them. The villains they've faced up until now have been grunts, or lackies. The truly dangerous ones were handled by adults or—'

(Us.)

'Mirio would be a good example for them. Someone to test themselves against, and keep them humble,' We concluded.

(Arrogant children are the first to die.)

I decided to remain quiet. A sense of unease and trepidation held my tongue, and I hoped that they truly would gain good experience from this.

I hoped, with a fervor, they would learn enough from this encounter. They would understand that not all enemies can be beaten.

My walking slowed to a halt as my other classmates passed me by. Aizawa, Cactus-sensei, stopped beside me. Casually, he asked, "Too tired?"

"I know how Mirio fights," I whispered. "They don't."

"Will you tell them?"

"No. He is safe to lose to."

"Are you fighting?" he asked me.

"I don't know. Should I?" My eyes drifted shut, and memories of playful fighting that did not belong to me danced in my head. "Would you?"

"Fight him," Aizawa told me. "You might have fun."

(Fun?)

(Will he play with us again?)

(Old souls—)

(Old friends—)

(Old family—)

(Together again, in a different body, different mind, and different memories. An old soul who smiles just as brightly here as he did before.)

'We're the only ones who remember,' we thought as we pulled out Cherry. 'But we're not the only ones who live again.'

'Death is neither the end, nor the beginning. It is a bump in the road, a change in environment. Memories ought to fade away with each one, but for us, we cannot let go.'

'We cannot let go, and so we desperately hold on to them. We dig our claws, our fangs, our everything into them because letting go seems so much worse.'

A chance to play with an old friend.

A friend who does not remember us, and who Kiyomi will forget at the end of this dance.

Could we be so selfish as to ask for that?

We took to the stage as the boy who always met with tragedy grinned brightly at us.

'Not this life,' We promised him. 'This life you'll get your happy ending.'

The staff released itself, and we stood back as we waited.

There was chatter, and then he moved with hard-earned skill and dedication. One, two, three was down. He waltzed across the stage with familiar grace and strength, and he took down another one, two, three.

He left me alone, not understanding why he did so, and he dug his fists into the stomach of one-two-three-four-five students.

The boy of smiles and sunshine figured it out. We wanted to praise him for his quick-thinking, but now might be the only time we could play with this old soul.

Even with the sun's child discovering what to do, the old soul was too quick and experienced.

(Although it was doubtful he realized it himself. Those with his ability wouldn't master it so quickly in such a short period of time, teacher or not. His experience guided him, although he did not entirely understand it.)

One-two-three—

—And then he came to us, with such speed and precision it made us proud. We couldn't stop from smiling brightly upon seeing how far he had already come this life. Our friend, our comrade, our brother, our sister, our family, already so far.

There was that gleam in his eyes, that gleam that reminded us of different times. He had that dazzling smile, and the charm of being a proper hero this time.

We were so happy for him.

With ease, we swung the staff, and like the dozens of times before, we caught him at that split second. His fist dug into our stomach, and our staff dug into the side of his neck.

The air left us, but we couldn't stop smiling as a flicker of maybe recognition sparked in his eyes.

(But he was too good for it to stay.)

(He knew how to let go.)

(Why did he let go?)

He faltered in his steps, and as the last of 1A still standing, we straightened up and stood above him. He was wincing, rubbing at his neck, but he had this brilliant grin on his face.

"That hurt," he said, eyes bright like the sunrise.

"We know," we said.

Aizawa clapped his hands together, and the old souls blinked once, twice, then left.

I rubbed at my incredibly sore stomach, moaning, while Mirio clutched at his neck. "Ow, ow, ow."

"Ahahaha," Mirio laughed oddly, cringing. "I didn't expect that at all! You totally predicted me. You're, ah, Kiyomi-chan, right?"

He had this warm familiar smile that made me want to smile back. I felt like I was in the presence of an old, and dear friend, and my lips turned up on their own. "Aha, yeah. Nice to properly meet you. You've got one heck of a right hook!"

Mirio held out his hand, and I gladly shook it. "Who trained you?"

"No one," I said. "Ah, please call me Kiyo. All my friends do."

(Everyone, we thought.)

Somehow his grin stretched even wider. "Friends already? Wowza, you move quick."

I blushed at that. "S-Sorry for being presumptuous."

"Nah! I like it. You can call me Mirio!" Mirio declared, releasing my hand and heading back over to grab his pants. "Let's spar again, okay?"

"Mn. I'd like that."

(It's okay you don't remember.)

(Live happy, live freely. Love again, and again.)

(We'll keep all the memories for you.)

(We'll live over, and over.)

(And we'll meet again, and again.)

(So keep smiling, and keep living, so we'll be friends one more time.)

(Just one... more... time.)

◟(◕◡◕❀)

In an unremarkable building was an office neatly put together and filled with an assortment of All Might merchandise. A well-dressed man with combed back green and yellow hair sat at a large desk, a permanently sour and somber expression on his face.

Nezu took a seat across from this man, Sir, and politely folded his hands together. He said, "What a lovely office you have."

Sir leaned forward across his desk, adjusting his glasses. "Quite."

A few minutes of silence ticked by as Sir waited for Nezu to speak, but when the principal of U.A. did not do so, Sir cut straight to the chase. "Nezu-san, I know you well enough that you aren't the type for social visits. And the fact that you're here and not one of your teachers..."

"Yes," Nezu said slowly, drawing out the word, the tip of his tail twitching uncomfortably. "What I'm about to share with you is extremely sensitive information. The kind of information that would ruin entire lives if placed in the wrong hands. Arguably, the kind of information that could completely tip the scales in favor of the villains."

Whatever Sir had been expecting, it was not that. His entire posture stilled, and his face darkened even further. "What do you mean?"

"Your Quirk is undoubtedly impressive, and downright scary," Nezu continued softly, a steel edge in his voice. "What if I told you that one of my students had a similar Quirk? Except this student didn't require nearly so many requirements, and could instead see years into the future of many, many people?"

"He would be hunted down by any crime organization," Sir answered immediately, firm in his response. If a student had such an ability he would be a wanted target. But—

"I did not recall seeing any such student on your roster for U.A," Sir remarked.

"It is not her only ability," Nezu admitted. "And she herself is not fully aware of it."

Sir frowned. "Lapse of memory?"

"More like too much memory," Nezu sighed. "Please listen to what I'm about to tell you, because it directly relates to your death, and Mirio-kun becoming disabled."

There was a moment of silence as Sir took in this information with closed eyes. "... I see. Then, please, tell me everything you can."

"Her name is Kiyomi..."

◟(◕◡◕❀)

Yep! Mirio is another old soul. I always liked the idea of someone like him being an old soul, since I get that vibe from him in the manga.

Answer: Imagination.

Question: Who would you like to experience an adventure with?

Reviews are love!