Lovely fanart by KaidaStorm on deviantART. 

Hello. May this chapter ease a bit of your burden from your day.

◟(◕◡◕❀)

Aizawa's Interlude (I)

Shōta's eyes ached, as they did every day. He was on his way towards a faculty meeting after spending a solid hour grading homework, which really did not help ease the pain in his eyes. Re-reading the (essentially) same solution to his questions got old fast.

Even though Shōta typically only assigned homework related directly to his students' line of work, he still assigned standard reading / writing material. It allowed him to see how his students' thought processes work, and it encouraged critical thinking.

Like the principal, Shōta was a fan of logic.

The sheer lack of logical heroes in the industry was a proper tragedy in the making. It only took one idiot with enough determination to cause a catastrophic mistake. It was one of the numerous reasons Shōta did not tolerate dumbasses in his class. Not only were they a potential threat to their fellow heroes, but they would only get themselves killed in real action.

Shōta raised a hand and rubbed at his right eye, giving it a brief moment of rest, before he continued walking slowly down the pristine U.A. hallway.

Unfortunately during that one split second he closed his eyes, a pinkette barreled into him.

He hadn't sensed her presence (which was odd upon further reflection of the incident), nor did he even hear her coming (again: another oddity in hindsight). One moment he was walking perfectly fine and the next he was being pushed back.

The girl fell flat on her butt from the force, while Shōta merely had to take a step back to readjust.

He assessed her quickly, his eyes narrowing.

She was in a white summer dress with an obnoxiously bright pink bow around her waist and tied in the back. Her matching, equally as irritatingly bright, pink hair looked like a mess of curls and he idly wondered if she ever bothered to brush it (not like he had much room to criticize). She was surprisingly athletic with calloused hands, and toned arms.

'Hard worker; farmer? Dress, though, so childish. Age closer to ten. What's a child doing here?'

Her red eyes flew open and she looked properly mortified as she leapt back up.

"Ah, sorry, sorry," the girl said quickly bowing towards Shōta. "I'm Marin Kiyomi."

The name clicked in Shōta's head, and his eyes narrowed.

Nezu had mentioned that he had recently taken on an apprentice of sorts. The girl had conquered his written tests for a scholarship (which was impressive, as those exams aimed for third-years. The test itself wasn't meant to pass, or fail, but rather for Nezu to see the thought process of the examinee. The fact that she went ahead and scored well enough on it to pass spoke of a potentially bright mind, or at least someone who knew the material well enough), and passed his practical exam (which was the more important of the two). Nezu had been gleeful to have someone take such a passionate interest in his texts, and he admired the drive she presented.

Kiyomi was given a scholarship, paid for by Nezu, and permission to roam the academy grounds when she visited him. Most of the teachers had already ran into the girl after her first month, and described her as someone cheerful, and polite.

When any member of the faculty directly asked Nezu about the girl, Nezu surprisingly only reiterated what he said previous. He refused to share more than obvious traits about the girl, and instead asked that the faculty watch out for her.

Shōta had gone out of his way to avoid her. He had no interest in catering to the whims of Nezu's latest little 'project'. He also had little patience for children, and even if she was booksmart, that did not equate to raw intelligence, or maturity.

"I'm so sorry for running into you," Kiyomi continued, a sheepish blush on her cheeks. "Do you need a hug?"

Shōta's lips twisted into a sneer at the naive question. In what convoluted sense would a hug be an appropriate course of action after running into someone? His voice dripped with sarcasm as he replied, "Yes, I need a hug for you running into me."

Kiyomi didn't even blink as she then wrapped her arms around the tired man and squeezed.

Shōta froze, his entire posture stiffening at the sudden invasion of his personal space.

Shōta did not do hugs.

Shōta did not do affection.

Before he could yank the girl off him, she was gone and hurrying about her merry little way.

Annoyance flared through Shōta as he watched her go.

'Irrational little cheeky brat,' Shōta thought, his eyes dark. If she was going to be running about the academy for a prolonged period of time, he would have to make it clear that going around and hugging people (especially him) was not the acceptable answer to anything.

With that in mind, Shōta sent out his wraps and grabbed her foot, a humorless grin on his face.

Her scream of terror was actually rather funny.

The flock of teachers that rushed to her aid immediately thereafter was not funny.

◟(◕◡◕❀)

After the lecture from Nezu not to terrify little girls, Shōta made it his goal to avoid the annoying pinkette for the rest of his life. It did not help that while he was being lectured the stupid little girl continuously gave him apologetic looks, and mouthed sorry over and over.

Shōta left the office and headed home before the girl could corner him and apologize to him in front of Nezu. Nezu would expect Shōta to polite accept the girl's apology, or else Shōta could very well find himself doing morning duty for a solid year.

The next day after Shōta finished grading papers that goal proved to be harder than expected.

Kiyomi stood outside his classroom door, fidgeting anxiously with a basket of baked goods in her hands.

Shōta looked at her a brief second, then decided ignoring her would be in his best interest. Potential intelligence aside, she was still only an eleven year old girl. Surely, she lacked the self-discipline and self-esteem to pursue an apology after being obviously snubbed. He brushed past her and continued on his way, deciding to go home and finish work there.

"W-Wait," Kiyomi exclaimed, following after him. "I'm sorry about yesterday. I really, really didn't mean to get you in trouble."

Shōta didn't respond, keeping the pace and staring straight ahead.

Kiyomi tried to hold out the basket of food towards him.

Shōta didn't stop.

Kiyomi's eyes narrowed, and she matched his pace. "I'm not going to simply give up because you're ignoring me. If you won't help me do this properly, I'll have to make you accept my apology!"

'That's contradictory,' Shōta thought. 'Force an apology onto someone? Then you aren't truly apologetic.'

"Shisho told me you're a cactus with honey," Kiyomi told him, "and that I gotta get past the thorns to be your friend. He said giving up would only encourage your behavior, and then I'll never get to be your friend."

'In what way, shape, or form did I give the slightest impression I wanted to be friends? Is she delusional?'

Kiyomi then smiled at him. "You better be prepared, Cactus-san! I'll get to the honey one way or another."

'Is she really setting up an imaginary challenge for herself and dragging me into it?' Shōta thought in quiet disbelief.

Then the girl did the unthinkable.

Again.

She dropped her basket and hugged him around the waist.

Shōta froze only for a second that time before he immediately shoved her off him. "Do not do that again."

"Hugs make everyone happy," Kiyomi protested, smiling. "Not ignoring me anymore?"

'Insolent brat,' Shōta thought, immediately feeling a rush of irritation that she caught him off guard with her unorthodox and completely uncalled for display of physical affection. With practiced ease Shōta quelled the useless emotion and shoved it aside. Feeling annoyed at someone when she bested him (even if it was in a rather stupid way) served no purpose and was a waste of energy.

Shōta turned to face her fully, his face morphed into that of indifference. "Forcing physical contact on someone who does not want it is assault. Desist the action and do not do so again."

Kiyomi kept smiling at his words, her eyes bright. "I suppose if you want to pervert something as innocent as a little girl hugging you into assault, sure."

Shōta didn't rise to the bait.

Kiyomi put her hands on her hip, a gleam in her eyes. "So you don't like hugs, then?"

"No," Shōta answered, thinking that would be obvious. Then again to someone as nonsensical as she was, perhaps she didn't realize obvious things.

"Then how about we make a little wager. I bet that, one year from today, I'll have gotten you to ask for a hug from me once. I win, you and I are friends forever. You win, I never ever bother you again. I'll be around the academy a lot in the years to come, so we'll see each other a lot unless I actively avoid you. And you don't want me around, right?"

Shōta resisted the urge to immediately snap out the rejection. It was certainly true that Shōta did not want to deal with such an irritation, and if she actively sought him out it would only prove more of a hassle for him. He couldn't expel her from the grounds because she was there with Nezu's blessing. And while the principal gave his teachers a lot of leeway, something about the girl piqued his interest enough to allow her to roam free despite not being an actual student. He would be willing to bet a week's worth of sleep that Nezu wouldn't banish the girl from the grounds simply because she annoyed Shōta. She had already endeared herself to the other faculty members and the day Present Mic shooed off a little girl who hugged him every time she saw him was the day it rained cats and dogs.

Having her choose to avoid him, though, would be an easy solution.

That being said Shōta really did not want to play her little game.

One year of playing a game, with odds in his favor, for years worth of silence from her?

Even if Shōta was personally against it, the logic won him over as it always did.

Still, the wager looked too easy. Shōta cocked his head. "Rules?"

"You have to willingly ask for the hug. Doesn't count if it's forced. No life-threatening situations, and no Quirks. At least I won't use Quirks. What do you say? Seems like a perfectly reasonable solution to your little problem."

Shōta thought it over for a solid minute. If she wasn't able to force the words out of his mouth, that meant she would have to resort to clever tactics and words.

Shōta knew she was booksmart, but that did not equate to clever logic, or a cunning mindset. The fact that she had won over Nezu, and the principal insisted that she was a brilliant young girl did not phase Shōta in the slightest. Nezu always looked at the better traits of people, sometimes dismissing their negative attributes in favoring of encouraging them.

She was a child, furthermore, with no Quirk to enhance her mindset.

From the evidence presented to him Shōta concluded that there was no conceivable way that she would be able to convince him to request a hug from her.

He did think she was awfully arrogant for trying.

'But that befits a child. Ignorance and arrogance are always in abundance with children. One of the many reasons hero training doesn't start until adolescence at the earliest. That kind of cocky attitude is what gets you and your team killed.'

It would be in her best interest, really, if Shōta took that ego down a notch.

Shōta gave a curt nod. "Very well. I accept."

Kiyomi's eyes gleamed and a smirk crawled across her face. "Good. Prepare to lose to my cunning plans, Cactus-san."

The very idea made Shōta laugh.

Hindsight, he probably should have taken her a lot more serious.

Anyone who caught Nezu's interest was not some silly little girl.

◟(◕◡◕❀)

Shōta didn't see Kiyomi until the next day, where she stood waiting outside his office with a basket of delicious-smelling muffins. Kiyomi beamed at him, her red gaze bright with a touch of affection.

It disturbed Shōta to see that glimmer of affection in her eyes. He didn't really know her, and he hoped she didn't know him, so how could she be affectionate towards him; a stranger? Did she latch onto people and things so quickly?

How moronic.

Kiyomi held up the basket towards him. "Peace-offering."

Shōta didn't believe her, so he shook his head. "No, thanks."

She gave a small hum. "Okay. I'll put them in the lounge, then. Let's play a game! If I win, you ask for a hug. If you win, I won't ask for a rematch for a week."

"No," Shōta immediately denied. "I'm not going to play a game with you. That would be a waste of time and energy. Furthermore, I have no obligation to do so. The wager did not specify I had to entertain you with games."

Kiyomi let out a laugh. "That's true. Maybe in a couple of days you'll change your mind. See ya later, Cactus-san!"

Then she was gone, and Shōta gave a small snort before heading home.

One year, and then she wouldn't bother him again.

'What did Nezu see in that child?'

There wasn't a single point about the girl that matched up with Nezu's description of her. Nezu said she was a brilliant, driven, and cunning girl.

What was brilliant about an eleven-year-old child who pushed for challenges that she had no hope of winning? It was a waste of energy on everyone's part and only served to reiterate the fact that she was immature and the antithesis of brilliant.

Driven? Maybe Shōta could give her that point. She certainly seemed determined to annoy him.

Cunning?

The very idea made Shōta want to laugh. The girl who ran headfirst down a hallway without paying attention to her surroundings; the girl who screamed in terror so quickly; the girl who tried to force an apology onto Shōta, and then resorted to a petulant wager when he dismissed her.

If Kiyomi Marin was cunning Shōta would eat his bandages.

The girl was so opposite of Nezu's statement, Shōta honestly doubted his assessment.

'Too optimistic,' Shōta thought. 'Maybe even projecting hopeful thoughts onto her instead of facing reality.'

Shōta shook his head, his eyes narrowing as he thought back over his encounters with her. With the evidence presented Shōta drew his own entirely rational opinion of the girl.

That is to say: Kiyomi was a silly little girl with as much intelligence and cunning as any eleven year old.

◟(◕◡◕❀)

Three days later, Shōta was in pain. It was an unreasonably hot and dry day, making his eyes itch and sting. Blinking did nothing to absolve the issue, and he was couldn't find his eye drops. To top it off, the school's humidifier and AC had broken overnight, and Nezu said they wouldn't be able to fix it until tomorrow evening.

By the end of class Shōta only wanted to crawl into his bed and rest ice cubes over his eyes. The final bell could not have come sooner.

When his small class let out (he had expelled several students at the beginning of the term for sheer stupidity), he shouldn't have been surprised that she would be waiting for him.

Kiyomi gave him a grin, holding up treasured eye drops. "Want these?"

Shōta's lips pursed as he brushed past her. He'd go to the nearby supermarket on his way home and pick up more. "No, thanks."

Kiyomi let out a laugh, her grin stretching wider. "I bought out all the eye drops from the surrounding stores. C'mon, I know your tired eyes have to be hurting. All you have to do is say you'll play a game with me tomorrow with the stipulation that if I win, you ask for a hug. If you win, I leave you alone for a week."

Shōta snorted, steadfastly ignoring her. He would not play her game. She'd choose something ridiculous to play and angled in her favor.

"You can even choose the game."

He paused.

He turned back to her, eyebrow raised. "I choose the game?"

"Mm-hmm."

Oh, how he would make her regret that.

"Okay. Come by tomorrow at five."

Kiyomi handed him the soothing eye drops and bowed. "Thanks, Cactus-san! See ya tomorrow."

◟(◕◡◕❀)

Shōta wasn't surprised to see Kiyomi waiting for him expectantly the next day, right on the dot. Nor was he surprised to see that same smile, and same gleam of affection in her eyes.

He gave her a grin, anticipating seeing that smile fall when he told her his game.

"It's simple," he said, "I made it up myself. Convince me to jump off a bridge. You can only use your words, and you have three hours to do so. I call it: Persuade Me to Jump Off a Bridge."

Three hours would give him plenty of time to power nap, and hopefully encourage her to lose interest. What brat could sit still and talk for the three hours straight?

Her eyes widened a bit at the game, and her smile slipped as she chewed on her bottom lip thoughtfully. Then she let out a small laugh and said, "Okay. Perhaps we should move to somewhere more comfortable though, since I'll be using all three hours."

Shōta agreed with that sentiment, guiding her to a lounge that wasn't often used by the other teachers since it had an odd musty smell no one could get rid of. He laid down on the couch and closed his eyes.

There were no rules in his game that he had to stay awake.

Kiyomi sat down on the coffee table, took a deep breath, and then began to weave a lovely tale. It had absolutely nothing to do with jumping off bridges, or really anything in relation to the game. It was a sweet tale about three friends training to become ninja. Shōta listened to the tale in spite of himself, oddly drawn into it. Kiyomi had a way with her words and tone, and he was instantly reminded of a mother lovingly telling a bedtime story to her children.

About ninety minutes into the story, Shōta was entirely (in spite of himself) enraptured in her story.

When the clock chimed, signaling the three hours were up, Shōta was sat up on the couch, frowning at her. "You lost."

"This time," Kiyomi agreed with a smile.

"Let me guess, if I want the ending I have to play the game with you again?"

"It'll take multiple games to reach the end, I'm afraid," Kiyomi answered him.

"How do you know that story?" Shōta asked, honestly curious. He had read his fair share of novels and the story wasn't familiar.

She shrugged, getting up and stretching. "It's a story I know like the back of my hand. I'll see you next week."

While the story was certainly good, and she was an excellent teller, Shōta didn't feel overtly compelled enough to warrant agreeing to another game. Shōta scratched his cheek, wondering if Kiyomi honestly thought her story was good enough he would agree to another game.

'She's a ridiculous girl,' Shōta thought, 'so probably.'

◟(◕◡◕❀)

"Ah, Aizawa-san," Nezu called out, forcing Shōta to pause in his departure. It was the following weekday after Kiyomi agreed not to ask for a rematch for a week. Shōta had come by Nezu's office to pick up the requirements Nezu wanted all first years to go over before the next big exam. "Kiyo-chan told me about the game you're playing."

Shōta's lips twitched. "And?"

"Don't underestimate her," Nezu warned him, his tone teasing and an amused gleam entered his eyes. "She's a brilliant, ah, individual."

Shōta resisted the urge to verbally disagree with that sentiment. He settled for a carefully neutral response, "Marin is certainly charismatic."

Nezu chortled. "Yes, yes, yes. Ah, well, I've given you my warning."

"Duly noted," Shōta said flatly.

"Mm-hmm." Then Nezu paused. "Well, if you truly don't believe me, challenge her to a game of shōgi."

"Shōgi?" Shōta repeated, incredulous.

Nezu nodded. "I know you're well experienced with the game, since you're the faculty's reigning champion, after all."

"Shōgi is a game of patience, I doubt Marin would be able to sit through an entire game."

"I've played with her before," Nezu answered, "and she, ah, perhaps it would be better for you to see for yourself. I trust you would be able to handle her appropriately."

Shōta's lips tugged down and his brow creased at the odd choice of words. "Something I should know?"

"Something you really should see for yourself," Nezu said softly, quietly. "Please be sure only the two of you are in the room when you play. For your sake, as well as Kiyo-chan's."

Shōta thought about pressing Nezu for more information, but decided against it. It had already been established that Nezu was oddly tight-lipped when talking about the girl aside from the fact that she had great potential, and he liked her. His cryptic words made Shōta's mind itch as he tried to think them over and solve them, but he simply didn't have enough evidence to do so.

So he left the office, wondering if he should challenge her to shōgi.

◟(◕◡◕❀)

When she returned a week later she held out another basket of deliciously baked goods. The instant Shōta saw them, the pieces fell together and he realized what game she was playing at.

She would first offer a positive incentive (food in this example) for him to play a game with her. In failing that, she would switch to negative reinforcement (the dry eyes from last week) and blackmail, threaten, or who knew what else in order to get what she wanted.

Shōta hesitated at seeing her. The dry eyes weren't pleasant, and he had a feeling that she had been the one to orchestrate the broken AC and humidifier. It was even possible that she had persuaded Nezu to assist in their little wager (and the principal would because it would amuse him to watch Shōta deal with his bubbly student, and it seemed Nezu wanted Shōta to challenge her to shōgi).

With that in mind, she could make his life rather unpleasant to an extreme degree if she put her mind to it. She was dedicated enough to go the extra mile, and despite it being almost a couple weeks now into their wager, she had shown no signs of wavering.

If it was a choice between accepting the positive incentive, or dealing with the negative reinforcement, the logical choice was clear.

Shōta took the offered basket. "Same game as last week, same wages."

Kiyomi beamed at him, brimming with utter joy.

'What a nuisance,' Shōta thought, nibbling on the delicious blueberry muffin. 'Mn. Pretty good.'

Again they headed towards the lounge, and while Shōta ate and relaxed, she continued her tale.

◟(◕◡◕❀)

They settled into that routine for five months. Once a week Kiyomi would gift him with scrumptious homemade goods, and he would tell her to convince him to jump off a bridge. She never tried to honestly persuade him, but instead she would tell a story, or talk about herself.

When she finished the (surprisingly twisty) ninja story, she moved on to a story about witches and wizards, then another story about warriors fighting for survival. Shōta actually enjoyed listening to her tales. She was naturally charismatic, and she spoke as if she personally was invested in the stories. She had to pause to wipe away tears at certain points, her voice shaky and cracking. She had to catch her breath to recover from laughing too hard (and indeed Shōta even chuckled at a few points). Her voice rose and lowered at certain parts, depending on the mood of the story.

If anything, Shōta had to admit she was an excellent story teller.

When her stories came to an end, though, before she picked up the next one she would talk about herself.

She told him about her Baba and Papa, how she was self-taught (which impressed Shōta, if only for the self-discipline required for such a feat). She told him how she worried about them when she wasn't there, and how she loved baking with Baba because it made Baba so very happy.

She told him how she was afraid she might have her mother's Quirk. How she avoided certain foods, citing them as an allergy, because of that fear.

She would ask things about him, small things that Shōta felt comfortable sharing (such as favorite tea, if he had a preferred snack she brought, etc). Nothing personal enough that he wouldn't share with coworkers.

Shōta reassessed his first opinion of Kiyomi as the months went by. She still struck him as someone very silly, and not to be taken serious on most occasions, but she had her moments of genius. Clearly, someone who regularly played shōgi and chess with Nezu, and won, was not an idiot.

Even if she did act like one.

Into the sixth month of their wager, Shōta decided to change things up a bit. "Let's play something different."

Kiyomi smiled at him. "Okay. What shall we play?"

"You have the new homework Nezu gave you?"

"Yeah," Kiyomi said. "Do you want me to get it?"

"Yes," Shōta said, taking a seat on the couch. Kiyomi disappeared from his view for five seconds before reappearing with an orange folder. Shōta took it from her and flipped through it before finding the packet of logic puzzles Nezu devised. He brought it over to the copier and copied ten of the problems before heading back to Kiyomi. He handed her the original packet and took ten for himself. "This is another simple game. You fill out those ten, while I work on these. Whoever finishes all ten problems first, with each of them being correct, wins."

Kiyomi's eyes danced. "You don't want me to convince you to jump off a bridge?"

"I'm feeling uncharacteristically curious," Shōta dismissed. "Let's see how you work these."

Without needing further incentive, Kiyomi grabbed a pen. When the clock struck at exactly four o'clock, the two began.

Shōta finished first, of course. He had designed a couple of the logic problems himself for the third year exams, and the problems Nezu gave Kiyomi were strikingly similar. It was still an unfair advantage towards Shōta, but that didn't matter at this point. He had no intentions of giving Kiyomi such an easy win, but he had to admit that she had honestly piqued his curiosity enough to properly test her.

Like mold, she had grown on him, sort of. He didn't view her with dislike, per se, and still thought she had an annoying personality, but he didn't detest her company anymore. She was supposed to be very smart, according to Nezu, but Shōta had yet to truly see that brilliance in his encounters. Perhaps if he judged her like his students, and was able to see how her thought process worked, then hopefully he would have his answer and his curiosity would be sated. Then he could go back to listening her tales for the rest of the year and never have to be bothered by her again.

When Kiyomi finished, she handed him her paper and took a bow. They both knew Shōta won that game, so she took her leave and let him examine her work.

His eyes flickered over the problems and a ghost of a smile tugged on his lips.

On each problem read the same line: We both know you'll win this test. If you want to see how I think, try a different game.

Then at the bottom, what she had spent the majority of her time on, was a picture of her hugging a cactus with his hair drawn on it.

'Cheeky little brat,' Shōta thought, not unkindly.

He wasn't going to let her have her way so easily, though. Another month of the bridge game ticked by (and she told a tragic tale that left Shōta feeling rather depressed at the end of it) before Shōta proposed a different game. He had thought long and hard about which game to have her play, and finally came back to Nezu's words.

If he wanted to see how she thought, it seemed he would have to play her at shōgi.

He knew that the playing field leveled out a bit more in her favor by proposing the game, but he thought she earned at least a little bit of a chance by that point.

Most eleven-year-olds would have given up by that point, so it slightly impressed Shōta that she had not.

"Shōgi," he muttered, taking the entire basket of baked goods from her hands.

Kiyomi smiled at him. "Okay. Can we make it two out of three? In exchange if I lose the overall, I leave you alone for a month."

Shōta reflected on it, and then gave a nod.

◟(◕◡◕❀)

They set up the game, and Shōta allowed her the first move. While they played Kiyomi talked quietly about the things that had happened recently. She talked about beginning to spar with her friend, Sho-chan, and her odd dreams of hundreds of faceless people standing behind her.

"Interesting move," Kiyomi commented, her tone oddly absent as her eyes became glued on Shōta's piece.

"Climbing Silver," Shōta muttered.

Kiyomi's entire body froze, her eyes widening and her mouth dropping open. The reaction was odd enough that Shōta instinctively stiffened, wondering if he should be calling for assistance, but then her body relaxed.

Her mouth shut, and her gaze drifted towards the sky.

It was her turn, and Shōta patiently waited for her to return to the game. Shōgi was meant to be a game of patience, after all.

Then Kiyomi looked at Shōta.

Shōta reflexively froze under that gaze, his back stiffening and his eyes burning from the use of his Quirk. He had to consciously relax his Quirk, but he wasn't able to quell the sense of wrongness that permeated his thoughts when she looked at him.

Her gaze was not that of an adoring child, indeed there was nothing childish about her eyes. Without breaking his gaze, she moved her piece and he followed suit.

The game had changed.

It was no longer an easy, relaxing game for Shōta. An tense atmosphere hung around them as Kiyomi continued stare at him with dark eyes and a humorless smile. Her moves were quick, taking less than a second for her to respond to his. Shōta had initially dominated in the game, but since her turn around in personality—for what else could Shōta call it?—she had pressed back with a vengeance.

Words were no longer spoken in that terse silence. Shōta was not the conversationalist sort, and Kiyomi wasn't interested in talking anymore, it seemed.

Shōta won.

Barely.

The second game started up without a comment or sound, and Shōta realized he was in for a difficult game.

Her gaze had yet to tear away from Shōta's, and as the game pressed on her smile stretched wider.

It unnerved Shōta. He wasn't scared of her, per say, but it disturbed him to see such an odd switch in someone so young. She had a Magi Quirk, and neither parts of her Quirk involved a second personality, or a sudden talent in shōgi. Even if she got her dreaded biological mother's Quirk, it wouldn't explain what was happening.

'Is this what Nezu sees?' Shōta wondered, his thoughts circling around Nezu's warning. 'Was the persona I first met only an act? Is this Kiyomi's true personality?'

She had him cornered within ten minutes of the second game.

She won it in the following two minutes.

As the third game started up she finally broke the silence, "Do you make it a habit of underestimating someone?"

"No," Shōta answered honestly, a slight frown marring his face and creasing his brows. "Your deceit was clever, I admit. You honestly had me fooled."

"It was no deceit," Kiyomi responded absently, her dark gaze finally tearing away from Shōta's. Shōta hadn't realized how tense he had been matching her sight until she broke away. "I am fond of you."

"Why?" Shōta asked, not really curious about the question, but not wanting an uncomfortable silence again.

"All Might is a cinnamon roll," Kiyomi murmured instead. "Treat Izuku well when you meet him. He needs your support to be the greatest hero."

Shōta blinked, honestly thrown for a loop at those words. "Izuku?"

"Remember these words," Kiyomi continued, her tone growing a bit lighter and kinder, "because I won't."

A piece of the puzzle fell into place.

'A Seer Quirk?' Shōta thought. 'Seers don't typically have a switch in personality, unless...'

"Do you know more than one event at a time?" Shōta asked.

"Yes," she answered quietly, her shoulders drooping. She breathed out her answer like a dirty confession, an unspoken burden pressed heavily upon her.

A Seer typically only knew one event at a time. It allowed them to mentally age and mature with their ability. Knowing more than one—knowing years' worth—would force anyone to age rapidly during the time they held that knowledge. If Kiyomi had a second Quirk, either inherited, or as a newblood, and she remembered years' worth of information at a time, it would explain the change in personality.

It wasn't a new personality, but rather Kiyomi with years of mental experience added on.

Shōta was tempted to add that the game didn't count since Kiyomi was using her Quirk and that wasn't allowed in the rules, but he decided against it. It didn't seem like it was something Kiyomi could control (many Seers had difficulty in doing so), and the thought of using it as an excuse to worm out of a loss didn't sit well with Shōta.

A loss was a loss.

He didn't heed Nezu's warning to take her seriously, and he openly took the bait Nezu laid before him about challenging her to shōgi. It was an error on Shōta's part, Shōta ought to take responsibility for that.

If it meant having to ask for a hug, and deal with the bubbly child for a prolonged period of time, then so be it.

It would certainly serve to remind him to never make that mistake again.

"Promise me," Kiyomi suddenly pleaded, "that you'll be kind to Izuku. Cinnamon Roll-san won't always be there for him, and you know how silly he can be. Please."

'Be kind to Izuku? A kid related to Cinnamon Roll—wait she said All Might was a cinnamon roll. So, a kid related to All Might?'

"Is it truly important?" Shōta asked instead.

"Yes," Kiyomi pressed, her eyes watering. "I can't—Messing with Wyrd is dangerous. Please, be nice to him, though. Please guide him."

"Okay," Shōta agreed after seeing how important it was. Kiyomi immediately relaxed at his words and she let out a long sigh of relief.

'That essential, huh?'

Kiyomi had him cornered again, and Shōta cocked his head. "Did you foresee this match?"

"No," Kiyomi responded. "You're good, but you're not Nara, or Wayne, good."

Shōta mentally filed those names away for later.

When Kiyomi won the game, her body sagged and a dazed look entered her eyes. Shōta put away the board and pieces, allowing the child to recollect herself. Once he was finished he took a seat and continued to wait.

Kiyomi stared at the ceiling, her eyes unfocused. She was quiet for another few minutes after Shōta sat down before her body jerked and she leapt up from her chair. Her normal attitude returned, with her eyes bright and a smile on her face. "I won! I think. Um. What happened?"

"You won," Shōta reassured her, wondering if she already knew about her Seer Quirk. The other her mentioned that she would forget, so Shōta doubted it.

'Does Nezu already know?'

That would be a question to find out shortly.

◟(◕◡◕❀)

Nezu offered Shōta a warm cup of tea before he took a seat at his desk. Shōta stared down at the ember colored liquid before taking a tentative sip. Warmth immediately entered his system, settling his heart and causing his eyes to droop.

Nezu drank his tea before he cleared his throat. "So you played shōgi with her?"

"Yes," Shōta answered, frowning. He didn't care too much for the next part, but it needed to be said. "You were right. I was wrong to underestimate her. Do you know about her Seer Quirk?"

Nezu cocked his head. "Is that what you think it is?"

"She said she knew of multiple events to come," Shōta answered, "it's the only logical conclusion."

"Is it, though?" Nezu murmured softly. "I disagree Kiyomi has a Seer Quirk."

Shōta blinked in genuine surprise at that. "What do you propose it is, then?"

"Mn. I'll save my thoughts for now," Nezu answered, "and I would encourage you to continue to look closely at Kiyomi. Watch for the little things. I'll give you a year, Aizawa-san, and then I'll be curious to see if your explanation is close to my own."

Shōta scratched his right cheek. Observation was easy enough, and he would be mindful of Kiyomi now that he was aware there was more to her. Doubting Nezu had already cost him a wager, so Shōta was disinclined to do so again anytime soon. If there was more to Kiyomi, something that was not a Seer Quirk, then Shōta would find out one way or another.

"Oh, and," Nezu added with a cheerful note, "please don't let anyone else know about Kiyomi. She's had some bad prior experiences with the wrong sort finding out."

'Bad prior experiences?'

◟(◕◡◕❀)

Kiyomi made it a point to visit Shōta every time she visited Nezu. If Nezu was too busy to entertain her, she immediately went to Shōta. Even if Shōta was teaching a class, she would summon forth a bubble, sit on it, and wait for him. Most of the time Shōta walked out of the classroom and looked up to find her nearly dozing on the bubble she conjured.

Shōta did not stay at the school to entertain her, though, "friend" or not. He greeted her with a curt nod and allowed her to walk with him out of the school before he shooed her back to Nezu.

One such day, Kiyomi walked through the halls as Shōta mulled over his past encounters with her. Then he noticed something that he didn't put much stock into prior to his conversation with Nezu. As Kiyomi rounded the corner, a skip in her step and a song on her lips, her footsteps made no sound.

Even as Shōta strained to hear them, he was surprised that he couldn't. They were entirely silent, despite the supposed weight Kiyomi put on them through her skipping.

It was such a minor thing Shōta doubted many others would have noticed. Indeed, even if they did notice it was unlikely they would ponder on it. So what if a girl walked quietly?

That would be a mistake, though, to dismiss it off handedly. If she walked quietly on occasion they could pass it as coincidence.

But to walk everywhere always without a noise from her footsteps?

Shōta knew only a handful of people who did such a thing, and it seemed odd to correlate them with the bubbly girl in front of him.

Assassins learned to walk without making a sound.

Snipers.

Soldiers.

Hunters.

The heroes that Shōta knew who walked without a sound were heroes that exclusively worked in hunting down wanted criminals. They moved without rustling a single leaf, or allowing the tiniest of creaks to escape from a floorboard. The slightest hint of their presence would spell the end for either them, or their mission.

Those people, though, worked for years to acquire that habit.

How did an eleven-year-old child already know to do so?

"Kiyomi," Shōta called to her, no longer addressing her by her last name. He didn't feel comfortable enough to call her Kiyo-chan as Nezu affectionately did. He barely used honorifics with his students. He preferred to keep an appropriate distance by using a last name, but not make the extra effort to add kun or san. Who knew, though, perhaps Kiyomi would surprise him again and he'd use chan for her.

She paused in her skips and turned around. "Yes Cactus-chan?"

"Did you know you walk without making a sound?"

She blinked. "Oh. That's cool."

"Did you try to learn how to do so?"

She shook her head. "Nah. I guess some people have really light step!"

Not bothering to correct her, Shōta merely shrugged, and allowed their walk to continue.

'Left over from Seering?'

But, no. The memories were gone from her after had her moments, according to Nezu. So how did she know how to walk like such?

How did it become a habit?

What did Nezu know?

Shōta had a lot of questions about Kiyomi, and extremely few answers.

Hopefully, in time, that would be corrected.

Kiyomi paused and turned back towards him and grinned. "Do you need another hug?"

"Yes. I need another hug," Shōta bit out sarcastically.

She leapt at him, and prepared, Shōta flipped her over his shoulder and smirked. "What's wrong? Do I not get a hug?"

She hopped back up, a gleam in her eyes. "Oh, you are so getting your hug."

"We'll see."

◟(◕◡◕❀)

Returning to the present, Kiyomi

"You look super-duper cute, Ocha-chan," I told Ochaco when she came out of the hallway in her hero costume. Her skintight bodysuit with blue and pink looked positively adorable on the blushing girl.

Ochaco raised her hands up to her cheeks, sheepishly looking away. "Thanks, Kiyomi-chan. Ah, may I call you Kiyo-chan?"

"Of course," I said cheerfully. "Are you excited?"

Ochaco nodded her head, a smile on her face. "Mm-hmm! It's so neat that All Might is our teacher."

Shōto turned his head at her words. He had been standing beside me since he came out of the tunnel, close enough that when I moved about my shoulder brushed against his. "All Might requested to teach this year."

"Oh, really? How do you know that?"

Shōto nodded towards me and I rubbed the back of my head. "My shishō is Nezu, the principal."

Ochaco's eyes widened. "Oh wow! Were you recommended?"

"Sorta. I'm on a scholarship, so I still had to take the exams," I confessed.

"They do scholarships?" Ochaco asked, her posture straightening and gaze focused. "How do you apply for one?"

Surprised at her sudden intensity, I said, "Take a written and practical exam. You have to stay within the top percentage while you're here, too. After school today I have to go to work, but tomorrow I'm free if you want to go to the office together. I can introduce you to everyone."

Ochaco's head bobbed up and down rapidly. "Yes, please! I-I would really appreciate it if I could get a scholarship."

"Okay, I'll be happy to help, then," I answered, smiling warmly at her.

"Looks like everyone's here," Izuku commented as he exited the tunnel and headed towards us. He gave me a grin, and then noticed Ochaco and proceeded to turn ten shades of red.

"That looks really cool," Ochaco told Izuku, then glancing down at her costume. "I wish I had been a bit more specific in my designs."

Izuku fidgeted anxiously, wringing his hands. "I-I think you look n-nice, Uraraka-san."

"Eh? So formal with such a sweetie like Ocha-chan, what'sa matter with you, Izu-chan?" I cooed, delighting in teasing my friend.

Ochaco laughed while Izuku scrambled to find an answer. "U-Um, I-I-I, u-um—"

"There's nothing wrong with showing someone proper respect by being polite," Shōto said quietly. Izuku's eyes watered as he beamed in gratitude for Shōto's answer.

Izuku nodded furiously. "Yes, yes! I'm o-only showing her pr-proper respect."

I shot Shōto a look of annoyance and he smirked back at me.

"Now that everyone's here," Cinnamon—er—All Might began with that booming voice of his, "let's get started: it's time for combat training."

"Sensei," Tenya immediately said, raising his hand up to be level with his face. He looked pretty neat in his knight-like armor. "This is the battle center from the entrance exam, so will we be conducting urban battles again?"

All Might held up two fingers. "No, we're going to move ahead two steps! Most of the time, fighting villains takes place outside, but if you look at total numbers, atrocious villains appear indoors at a higher rate. Imprisonment, house arrest, backroom deals—In this society filled with heroes truly intelligent villains hide in the shadows!"

(All—for—Who?)

"For this class you'll be split into villains and heroes and fight 2-on-2," All Might finished.

"Without basic training?" A frog-like girl in our class asked, tilting her head and frowning thoughtfully.

All Might grinned. "This is a real battle to understand those basics! However, the key this time is that there's no robot you can simply beat up."

"How will wins and losses be determined?" Another girl with a rather busty chest asked.

"Can we beat them up anyway?" Katsuki immediately asked.

"Can we go out for cinnamon rolls when we're done?" I wondered.

"How shall we be split up?"

All Might looked a tad flustered at our questions. He pulled out a small bundle of neatly folded papers and opened them. "I shall answer all your questions, so listen here. The situation is that the villains have hidden a nuclear weapon somewhere in their hideout. The heroes are trying to dispose of that. The heroes need to catch the villains, or get the nuclear weapon back in the allotted time. The villains need to protect the nuclear weapon for the whole time, or catch the heroes. Teams and opponents will be determined by drawing lots!"

All Might held up a golden-colored lottery box.

Tenya gasped in surprise. "They're being decided so haphazardly?"

"Pros often have to create makeshift teams with heroes from other agencies, so maybe that's why?" Izuku offered.

"I see. The discernment to look ahead," Tenya mumbled. Then he raised his voice and clearly said while bowing, "Please excuse my rudeness!"

"It's fine. Let's do this quickly!"

◟(◕◡◕❀)

Team A: Izuku and Ochaco

Team B: Shōto and Mezo

Team C: Momo and Minoru

Team D: Katsuki and Tenya

Taem E: Mina and Kyōka

Team F: Koji and Aoyama

Team G: Denki and myself

Team H: Fumikage and Tsuyu

Team I: Mashirao and Tōru

Team J: Hanta and Eijirō

Eagerly, I introduced myself to Denki, a blond boy with a semi-permanent smirk. "Hiya! I'm Kiyomi, but my friends call me Kiyo. Let's do our best, okay?"

Denki grinned at me, taking my offered hand and giving it a firm shake. "Denki Kiminari, but an adorable girl like yourself can call me Denki."

I laughed at his obvious joke. "Okay, Denki-kun, feel free to call me Kiyo, then."

He nodded in good-natured, tucking his hands into his pocket. "Let's kick some ass, Kiyo-chan."

"Mn!"

"Alright, with teams decided, I'll draw to see who is villain and who is hero," All Might declared.

"I hope we getta fight Bocchan's team," I said.

"I'll kick your fucking ass, bubblegum," Katsuki commented off handedly.

"Only in your dreams, my dear."

Katsuki took a menacing step towards me, looking all the ready to throw an explosion in my face, but All Might drew two team names. "The villains shall be team D, with the heroes being team A!"

I pouted, even as a shot of anxiety pierced through my abdomen upon realizing that Katsuki would be fighting Izuku.

All Might gathered us and sent both teams to the building, telling the villains to hide the nuclear weapons before he would send in the heroes. He gave each team a set of ear pieces to communicate with their partner, and so All Might could talk to them.

The rest of the class was sent off to another nearby building and ushered into a blue room with dozens of T.V.s. Each screen reflected a view from a camera inside the building of the test.

I felt oddly uncomfortable watching Izuku and Katsuki begin their match. My stomach flip-flopped unpleasantly, yet a strange sense of calm settled over my heart. The two such contradicting sensations made for a highly uncomfortable feeling. My brow reflexively furrowed and I had to school my features into a more easy-going smile, so as not to worry anyone.

A hand rested on my shoulder and I turned to look at Shōto. My smile took a genuine turn and he gave my shoulder a squeeze.

Softly, he asked, "You okay?"

"This is important for him," I told him, uncertain why I knew, yet believing it firmly all the same. "They're going to hurt each other, but they have to. I don't like it."

"I'm sorry," he told me sincerely. "Do you—Do you want to look away? I can tell you when it's over."

For a split second I was honestly tempted to take him up on his offer. It would have brought me comfort to simply tuck my head into his chest and pretend my two friends wouldn't hurt each other.

I shook my head, though. "No. This is important for them, I think. I need to support them both however I can."

"I'm here."

"Always?" I asked him, my voice barely above a murmur.

"Always and always," he promised.

Even though I had decided to watch, I still inched closer to my Shōto, and my fingers instinctively hooked around his own.

The battle began when Katsuki found Izuku, and I resisted the urge to wince at Katsuki's growing darker face. Katsuki was clearly perturbed by Izuku's seemingly sudden rise to power, and didn't know how to handle the potential threat to his dream of being the strongest hero. Katsuki had always been first, with Izuku always trailing far behind him. The fact that the seemingly dead last—

(Dead last? The loser into the hero? Ordinary into extraordinary?)

—had made it into such an exclusive school, and had some crazy strength unnerved Katsuki.

Izuku had disturbed Katsuki's view on normalcy, and Katsuki didn't understand how to handle that.

So he did the only thing he knew: he got angry.

Something that terrified Izuku, yet the sunny boy continued to fight Katsuki.

The classmates talked around me; talked about how dangerous Katsuki was, and how Izuku's life was on the line. They talked about how All Might should end the match.

They were wrong.

Katsuki wasn't a killer.

He would never kill; he simply didn't have that kind of darkness.

(That kind of indifference for the easy solution)

And while I was uncomfortable, it was never out of fear for Izuku from Katsuki. I was worried for both my friends because I could see how hurt Katsuki was, and how hurt Izuku was. I wanted to hug both of them, wrap them in blankets, and tell them that everything would be okay.

I didn't, though, because half of me knew that what was happening had to happen. They needed to fight each other.

So I bit my tongue, and held Shōto's hand tightly.

I squeezed it so hard I thought for sure Shōto must have been uncomfortable when Katsuki used a point-blank explosion right in front of Izuku. In the same instant, on a different screen, Ochaco latched onto the nuclear weapon, ending the match in the heroes' favor.

The second I realize it was over, I let go of Shōto's hand and teleported straight to Izuku and Katsuki.

I grabbed Izuku from behind, my heart hammering and my stomach heaving at the smell of burnt flesh. Izuku, realizing I had him then, sagged in my arms and slipped away into oblivion. I readjusted to hold him better, my eyes burning as I looked up at Katsuki. "You okay?"

He didn't answer, the confused little boy staring in part horror, part disbelief at the unconscious young man.

Deciding to comfort Katsuki later, as Izuku needed medical attention, I said, "Tell All Might I'm taking Izu-chan to Recovery Girl."

Katsuki blinked once, then gave a short nod.

I patted Izuku's head once before I brought both of us to Recovery Girl's office. The elderly lady gave us a look over before she began to cluck her tongue and motion him towards one of her beds. "I'll take care of him, Kiyo-chan. Head back to class."

"Thank you," I told her sincerely. Before doing that, though, I decided to head back to homeroom and pick up my notebook and pen.

When I returned, All Might gave a brief lecture over the past battle, citing Iida as the MVP. Then he called the next two teams to begin.

I summoned one of my bubbles and smoothed it out to be a floating, flat, hard surface. I placed my notebook on it, uncapping my pen and poised to take notes.

"What are you taking notes on?" Shōto asked me.

"Izu-chan's gonna wanna know everything that happened after his, ah, altercation with Bocchan. My memory is good, but it's not perfect, so I'll take notes for him," I explained.

"During your own battle, would you like me to take notes for you?" Shōto inquired.

I smiled at him. "That would be appreciated, thank you."

Thankfully none of the other battles were as tense as Izuku and Katsuki's. I jotted down quick notes, deciding to translate them into more detailed notes later. Shōto had a particularly one-sided match when he froze the entire building and the two unlucky villains inside. He calmly walked towards the nuclear weapon and won against his match up.

My own match was a bit one-sided, as well. All Might immediately vetoed me being the hero since I had already seen all parts of the building through watching the other matches, knowing that hardly anyone would be able to stop me from simply teleporting right on top of the nuclear weapon.

As consequence, Denki and I were the villains, which was still a bit hard to deal with. The nuclear weapon was made out of cardboard mostly, so I could push it around a bit, which meant I could teleport it alongside me. Any time the heroes—we were facing Eijirō and Hanta—entered the room I was in, I simply teleported to another room with the weapon. Neither boys were fast enough to stop me, and Denki occasionally showed up to harass them.

We won without much of a fuss, and when everyone had gone All Might concluded the class was over and we had to return to homeroom.

◟(◕◡◕❀)

As the final bell rang for the day I got up from my seat and stretched. "What a fun day that was!"

Shōto stood up and pushed in his chair, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. "You going to work?"

"Mm-hmm. I'll head there after I make sure Izu-chan and Bocchan are okay. You gonna go home?"

Shōto shrugged. "How long is your shift?"

"'Bout three hours," I answered. "We close early today, but if I need to stay after I will."

"Then I'll go to work with you. I can work on homework at the café," Shōto told me.

I smiled at him, sincerely happy my dearest companion would be spending his time out of school to be with me. "Okay. I'll meet you out front, let me talk with the other two, okay?"

"Okay."

I teleported to Izuku first, surprised to find him already outside the school with Katsuki. Katsuki had his back turned, with his hands shoved in his pocket and a minute shudder in his shoulders. Izuku looked particularly devastated, his eyes shining bright with unshed tears and a guilty expression on his face.

"Um," was all I said sensing I had interrupted an incredibly delicate situation. It was likely the first time the two boys had a chance to talk since class. "I'll talk to you both later."

Then I fled like the coward I was when it came to awkward moments.

I grabbed Shōto, my arms wrapping around his shoulders, and teleported both of us to my work place. I had brought us to the back room so I could change and put my things away in my locker.

Shōto blinked in surprise. "That didn't take long."

"It looked like they were having a private moment," I confessed. "I had a feeling it would be bad if I interrupted it, so I left. After work I'll check on them."

Shōto's brow furrowed. "I'm, uh, sorry?"

My smile returned and I affectionately patted his suddenly warm cheek. "You're the best, Sho-chan. Don't ever change."

He shrugged, looking down at his shoes. "Want me to hold onto your backpack while you work?"

"Oh, sure, thanks! It's always a bit of a tight fit in my locker otherwise."

"You're welcome. Have fun working."

"Always do," I told him, then began to tug off my shirt. "Gotta get dressed now."

He made a funny noise and hurriedly grabbed my backpack and left.

I loved making him uncomfortable.

An hour later, I sat down a white tea at Shōto's table, unsurprised to find homework laid out around the table. It seemed he wasn't working exclusively on homework from school because I could see a couple of workbooks (made by Nezu!) on the table, too.

My lips twitched up from the pleasant surprise that my friend was using my master's texts, too. "What brought this on?"

Shōto glanced up from a multi-step math problem, giving me a small smile. "He makes the exams, right?"

"Mm-hmm. You never seemed interesting in going the extra mile before, though."

"You do these workbooks all the time, though, don't you?"

"Yeah."

"Then I might as well do them, too," Shōto answered quietly. "I know I'm behind you, but I'll catch up soon enough, and then we can do them together."

My cheeks warmed, and a wide grin stretched across my face. "I'd really like that, thanks."

Shōto shrugged, an oddly sheepish expression on his face as he looked away.

"I have to get back to work. Let me know if you need anything else," I told him, gently placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing once.

"Okay," he mumbled.

◟(◕◡◕❀)

I teleported in Katsuki's room, dressed in my training outfit. It was nearly nine by the time I finished my homework after returning home from work and dropping Shōto off. Izuku had reassured me through numerous texts that he was fine, and he was going to head to bed early after finishing his homework since Recovery Girl zapped a lot of his stamina.

Katsuki, though, hadn't responded to any of my messages.

The boy was usually quite punctual when it came to replying, so the fact that he didn't meant he either wasn't able to, or he was in that bad of a mood.

Which meant there was only one thing I could do.

"Fight me," I demanded of him when I appeared in his room. Katsuki gave a snarl, throwing down his controller (he was playing some kind of video game on the T.V. in his room).

"Get the fuck outta here," he growled.

I shook my head. "Fight me now. Let's go, teddy bear."

Katsuki leapt up from his seated position, marching towards me and towering above me. A vicious glare morphed his face into that of utter anger.

Anger at what exactly, though, I didn't know.

But, I intended to find out.

"Get dressed, and I'll take you to our spot," I told him. "Let's go. No Quirks, only our fists and feet."

He sneered. "You want me to beat you that bad, huh? Fine. I'll break all your bones then finish my game."

"Mm-hmm," I dismissed, knowing he actually wouldn't break my bones in a spar no matter how angry he was.

Well. Maybe my nose but that was okay.

I did break his nose after all.

Katsuki scoffed, then abruptly turned away and changed into sweats and a shirt. I grabbed his hand and off we went.

I brought Katsuki to a little field in my hometown that was currently taking a break from the harvest (giving the soil time to re-fertilize). It was a perfect spot for training, since it was out of the way, and covered in soft dirt. It was the usual place I brought Katsuki (and sometimes Shōto if he wanted to spar outdoors) when he demanded a spar.

We had never used our Quirks against one another due to the highly flammable surroundings, but that never stopped Katsuki from being a proper pain. The boy had some crazy intuition, and a natural battle instinct. He also wasn't anywhere near as gentle as Shōto was when we spared. Katsuki did not believe in going easy.

The second our feet hit the ground, Katsuki threw the first punch and the spar was on.

◟(◕◡◕❀)

"Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow," I whined clutching at my dislocated shoulder. "Why would you punch someone's dislocated shoulder?"

Katsuki gave me an openly irritated look. "I didn't know it was dislocated, dumbass, you barely reacted. It's your own damn fault."

"How could you not have known?! You were the one that dislocated it!"

"It's not like I dislocate shoulders every day!"

I flipped him off. "You dislocated it: you put it back."

"How?!" Katsuki demanded in a huff.

"What do you mean how?" I asked shrilly. "If Baba sees me with another dislocated—"

"Another?"

"—she's going to kill me slowly. So suck it up and fix what you caused."

Katsuki huffed in obvious exasperation. "If I do it blindly I could cause more damage than good. Unless you want a permanently disabled shoulder—"

"Ugh."

"—you need to go to the doctor or something."

"Then Baba will find out. I like living." Katsuki glared at me, and I gave a one armed shrug. "Besides, wouldn't you get in trouble, too?"

He winced, and I knew he would.

"Okay," Katsuki said firmly, "here's what we'll do, then. We'll go to my home, and my mom can probably put it back. If anyone asks: I found you like this."

I grinned. "Okay, we'll tell them I was practicing teleporting at various heights and didn't react fast enough, so I landed awkwardly. You were here to keep me company in case such a thing happened."

"Then let's go, dumbass," he snapped, holding out his hand for me to grab. I had to wobble forward before I reached over with my good hand and took it.

My shoulder throbbed with each step I took, the pain shooting down to the tip of my fingers, but I ignored it.

(It was nothing compared to—)

Katsuki glanced back at me, his brow furrowed in a rare gesture of concern. He still glared at me, but I could see the little signs of alien affection. He never really understood how to deal with any emotion besides anger, or smugness.

I teleported us to the front door, as it might have made his parents uncomfortable if a girl (seemingly) frequently teleported into their son's room. Katsuki rang the doorbell, and there was a solid minute of silence before the door opened and his mother appeared.

Mitsuki opened the door, her face lighting up in obvious surprise at seeing her battered son, and an equally battered girl with an arm dangling uselessly. I gave her a small, shy smile, suddenly feeling sheepish at my state and the condition I put her son in.

Katsuki, nonplussed, said flatly, "Her shoulder is dislocated. Can you put it back?"

Mitsuki's surprise faded away and her very presence took a drastic turn into Commanding Mothermode.

"Get inside," she instructed, opening the door more widely. "Take her to the living room, Kacchan."

Katsuki shrugged and headed inside the well-lit home, and I docilely followed behind him. Unlike Shōto's home, Katsuki's home had a warm and bright feeling to it. It felt brighter than Inko's home (as sometimes her home felt a little sad and lonely). There were numerous pictures hanging (most of Katsuki and his mother), and I smiled fondly at the toddler pictures of Katsuki.

Katsuki gestured towards the large couch for me to sit. I sat down, carefully picking up my arm and setting it in my lap. It protested heavily against such, but I told it that it was being a big baby and to suck it up.

Mitsuki came into the living room with a cloth. "For you to bite down on."

"That won't be necessary," I told her firmly. "I'm, uh, not a stranger to pain."

(Off with the head!)

Mitsuki didn't even blink at that. "Okay. I'll do it quick, so be ready."

(Oh, wait, it didn't go all the way through)

I gave her a nod, and pointedly look away. I felt Mitsuki's feather light touch on the top of my shoulder before her other hand moved to my back. Then there was a sharp snapping sound that would have made most people cringe, but Katsuki and Mitsuki were barely phased. Pain ricocheted up and down my arm and I bit on my lip hard to keep from reacting further.

(Never gets any better)

"I'm going to get some ice," Mitsuki said with a smile. "And some ibuprofen."

"Okay," I responded, "thank you."

She waved her hand dismissively before she stood up and headed out of the living room.

"Feel better?" I asked him softly while his mother went to get ice.

Katsuki turned away from me, looking in the direction his mother went to. His shoulders lifted up the tiniest bit in a reluctant shrug.

I smiled at him. "Good. Let me know if you ever need another spar, okay? I'm here for you."

"If you ever need an ass-kicking, let me know and I'll be glad to help you," Katsuki responded shortly.

"You're welcome, Bocchan."

He flipped me off, but unfortunately for him I could see the small smile on his face.

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My muse got inspired upon seeing arneewenn's fanart of Kiyomi and Shōto. Please go check it out!

Kiyomi and Shōto being cute: arneewenn dot deviantart dot com / art / Even-so-the-gods-of-romantic-comedy-are-cruel-716012518

Cantrona also drew Kiyomi for Inktober, and a lovely new profile picture of Kiyomi and Sakura! Her artwork has kept my muse going for the past two chapters, so please check it out!

Inktober: cantrona dot deviantart dot com / art / Inktober-2017-Highlights-Day-23-713209703

Profile: charredblossom16 dot deviantart dot com / art / Commission-Charredblossom16-715522790

All links are also on my profile.

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It's hard to see the ripple effect from only one perspective, so I will be using interludes to help show. I chose Shōta as the first because he plays a crucial role in this story, and his actions and words are hard to understand unless you know the experience he is personally drawing from.

I meant to add this to the last chapter, but didn't get it edited soon enough.

To confirm: Shōta and Nezu have had conversations with Kiyomi that Kiyomi doesn't remember. With a lot of lives stuffed into a brain, of course there are instances and triggers to bring forth one or multiple lives. Reincarnation, I think, is not very different from PTSD, in the sense of how the brain would handle it.

Answer: Daedric Armor-esque. Hail Sithis.

Question: Who would be your archenemy? Are they the hero and you the villain, or are they the dastardly villains and you're the hero?

Reviews are love!