art and things

“Most everyone else I’ve ever treated would be begging for them if they were in your state,” said Recovery Girl.  “I’ll have to take a moment to make sure everything is compatible.  This will tide you over until then.”  She gave him a tiny peck on the cheek, then bustled off.  

“I am… sorry, Midoriya.  I should have been more careful.”

“H-hey, I’m the one that kept fighting you, s-so, it’s just as much my fault,” said Izuku, making sure not to wave his hands too much, because he got the feeling Recovery Girl would be annoyed with him if he did.  

Todoroki’s expression remained unhappily pensive.  “Even after All Might warned me about the potential for damage inherent in my quirk, this still happened.”

“I was also trying to damage you, though,” said Izuku.  “At the same time.”

Seemingly in his own world, Todoroki looked down at his left hand.  “It will be even more difficult to manage with the addition of his– of the– of m– of fire.” 

“It’s something you can practice?”

“Indeed.”

“Here you are,” said Recovery Girl, returning with a small paper cup full of pills and a glass of water.  

“Um,” said Izuku, a bit intimidated by how many of them there were.  

“This is the frostbite medication.  These are calorie aids, to keep your energy up, fast release and slow release.  These are the painkillers - these are the stronger ones, and they might make you a little loopy, so you’ll need to either stay until I can completely clear you after the festival, or have someone drive you home.  Speaking of which.”  She reached into her pocket and pulled out a phone.  Izuku’s phone, with the All Might themed case.  “Your friend, the purple one, gave this to me.  Apparently, it was ringing and you didn’t shut your locker in the ready room correctly.”

“O-oh, thank you,” said Izuku.  He’d need to thank Shinsou the next time he saw him.  In the meantime…  He grimaced as he saw all the notifications on his phone, mostly missed phone calls.  Mom, Dad, Mom, Mom, Dad, Mom, Dad, Dad, Dad, Dad, Dad, Dad again.  Had there even been enough time for Dad to call that many times?  

.

“Okay, so he definitely, definitely, definitely knows.”

“We already know he knows!”

.

Should he call them back?  Who should he call first?  Wait, his phone had that group call feature.  He should.  

Wait.  

The… hallucination ghosts.  One of them had said something about the white haired one being a crazy uncle.  If the hallucinations were connected to One for All, if they had true information–

Recovery Girl rather forcefully passed the cup of pills into Izuku’s hand, and put the glass of water on the small table next to the bed.  “The faster you take these, the faster I can heal you properly.  Now, as for you, you need some work as well, Todoroki!”  She dragged Todoroki off to one of the other beds, leaving Izuku with his medicine.  

.

“Oh, this is going to be hilarious,” said Yoichi.  

“What do you mean?” asked Nana.  

“My brother and I have always had wild reactions to that kind of painkiller.  Actually, I’m going to bet that part of the reason that my brother’s decided to give the wheel to a random infantile sociopath is because he’s super high.  He’s usually much better strategically speaking.”

“Why would–?”

“Toshinori did punch his face off, if nothing else,” said Nana.  

“Oh, yeah,” said En.  “Forgot about that.  Seeing his face in Ninth’s family photos and all.”

.

He made a face at the pills, but, well, Plus Ultra!  He knocked the cup of pills back and chased it down with the cup of water.  He almost gagged.  But it wasn’t the worst thing he’d swallowed, huh?

He remembered the taste of All Might’s hair…  That had been really gross.  Ew.  

Speaking of All Might’s hair… and the results of eating it…  Izuku didn’t want to deal with the uncle thing right now.  That…  Later.  That was a thing for later.  His parents’ phone calls…  Okay, this was definitely a bit of a cowardly move, but he was going to respond later.  

He leaned back into the pillows behind him and let his phone rest on his chest.  He’d watch the rest of the sports festival, and then decide what to do about… all that.  He’d talk to Mr. Yagi and Mr. Aizawa, and maybe even see if Shinsou would hit him with Brainwashing again, because it did seem as if Brainwashing was the trigger for the hallucinations.  

That sounded like a plan.  

In the meantime: denial.  

.

Inside One for All, a certain specific ghost managed to radiate a sense of I-told-you-so without turning his face away from his self-generated imaginary wall of sulking.  

“Listen,” said Yoichi, “this is, like, temporary denial.”

“It’d actually be weirder if Nine didn’t pick up at least a few negative traits from the Darth Vader wannabe,” said En, consolingly.  “It’s good that it wasn’t the megalomania, right?”

“Or the murderousness,” said Nana.  

Second’s aura of sulking grew stronger.  

“Come on,” said Yoichi.  “Even I have a few traits in common with him!  It’s just what happens when you’re related!”

.

He should probably text his friends to let them know he was okay, though, right?  Since they were physically here in the stadium, and might storm the medical station to check on him.  Man, he loved his friends.  He couldn’t think of anyone else who’d do that for him, except for his parents.  

Man, he loved his parents.  

Wow, was this the pain medication kicking in?

.

“What do you mean, you can’t find Kurogiri?” demanded All for One, aka Midoriya Hisashi, aka someone who very much wanted to storm UA looking for his son, and who would be doing so if he had access to his teleporter, an entity that he had spent a great number of resources acquiring and creating.  

“He seems to have left on some kind of self-imposed errand,” said Garaki, groveling.  

“What errand could he possibly have left on?  He has a teleportation quirk.  He can steal whatever supplies he needs for the bar or Tomura.”  Although All for One had assigned a lesser minion to do shopping for both.  It wouldn’t do for his plans to be revealed because a grocery store had become suspicious about missing Pocky, or whatever absurdly unhealthy snack Tomura had become enamored of that week.  

“I am unsure, my lord,” said Garaki.  “Only that Tomura seemed to think it was in pursuit of… his social development?

“Social development?  Social development?  How could this happen?  He’s a noumu.  We have absolute control over the noumu.”  He forcefully relaxed his grip on the arm of his chair.  It would do him no good to destroy his own furniture.  

“Well,” said Garaki, “he is an early prototype.  If you recall, my lord, Kurogiri’s… relative independence is why we assigned him to care for Shigaraki Tomura, and why we constructed his collar.”

All for One refrained from blasting Garaki for his reference to All for One’s… less than perfect memory.  He had suffered from copious brain damage, courtesy of All Might punching off his face, but it wasn’t so bad that he’d forget that.  

As to Garaki’s main point… Yes, Kurogiri, frustratingly, had retained some characteristics of his base materials.  Principally, that it was incredibly difficult to force him to take outright lethal action.  Hence the need for the other noumu and the so-called ‘League of Villains.’  Otherwise, All for One could have simply ordered Kurogiri to drop All Might into the middle of the Pacific Ocean, or to snap a portal shut around his neck, or let Tomura reach through a portal and touch All Might’s back.  On the other hand, such a plan lacked a certain… panache.  All for One wanted All Might to suffer and despair before his death, after all.  

“What about the tracker you put in his collar?”  All for One was fairly certain that was something they’d done.  

Garaki cringed.  “It appears to be… offline.”

.

Ochako was nervous.  She’d done well so far, but her next opponent was both troublesome in terms of how their quirks matched up, and, well, somehow, while planning for the festival with Midoriya and the others, beating Bakugo had become personal.  She wanted to win.  She wanted him to lose.  It just wouldn’t be right for a bully like him to get to the top of the podium at a hero school.  

And, maybe, just maybe she wanted revenge for Midoriya, who was rapidly becoming her best friend.  Like, she was staying in contact with her middle school friends back home in Mie, but having friends with the same goals was invigorating.  Plus, he’d saved her during the entrance exam, and working with him was just super fun.  

But fighting Bakugo would be even harder than fighting Tsuyu.  Even if she tagged him with her quirk, he’d be able to move around like a rocketship.  Maybe.  She was pretty sure he was close to figuring out how to move properly with his mass negated the last time she’d gotten him with her quirk, although she would still have an advantage.  More importantly, if she was in range to use her quirk on him, he was in range to use his quirk on her.  And he was taller than she was, so his reach was better.  

She had a plan… sort of.  It was based on how Bakugo had carved up the ring with his explosions in his last couple of matches and what Midoriya had told her about his personality and abilities in their planning sessions.  But it felt… somehow inadequate.  

Especially after the fight between Todoroki and Midoriya.  That had been… incredible.  High-powered.  A three-dimensional visual spectacle.  Maybe she could take more of a cue from how Midoriya moved?  But her nausea…  Bakugo was like a shark.  He’d be on that weakness immediately.  

There was a knock on the door to her ready room.  “Huh?  Yes?  Come in?”

Despite seeing Midoriya limp out of the arena with Todoroki’s help only minutes previously, Ochako had sort of expected it to be him at her door.  It wasn’t.  Instead, it was Shouji.  He waved.  

“Hi?” she said, surprised.  “What’s up?”  She frowned.  “Also, didn’t your arms…?”

“They regenerate on their own,” said Shouji.  

“Oh yeahhhhh,” said Ochako.  She’d forgotten that aspect of his quirk.

“And about why I’m here…  I sort of riled Bakugo up during our match.  Sorry about that.”

“I saw that,” said Ochako, pointing at the screen in the corner of the ready room.  “I was kind of wondering if you’d said something, or if he was just in a bad mood from almost losing to his classmate.”

“Well,” said Shouji, sheepishly.  He split off a new arm, growing a mouth on it.  “I said ‘hi, Kacchan,’ like this.”

Ochako blinked at the sound of Midoriya’s voice coming from Shouji’s hand.  “Oh, wow.  I guess it’s lucky Midoriya isn’t fighting him.”  Not that Ochako would’ve just let Bakugo beat her, even if Midoriya moved on to the semifinals.  It was just, she wasn’t so delusional as to say her victory was guaranteed.

Shouji, surprisingly, laughed.  “How do you think he’d react if he heard you say that?”

“I–” She thought about it.  “What d’you say we find out?”

.

“You took everything, then?” asked Recovery Girl.  

“Yep,” said Izuku, giving her a lazy thumbs up.  

“Good,” she said, examining his fingers.  “Alright, I’m going to start work on the frostbite, now that the painkillers are kicking in.  It still won’t be pleasant, and you’ll still have all those fractions and sprains.  Are you ready?”

“Yep,” said Izuku.  

Recovery Girl didn’t ask again, kissing his forehead.  Izuku’s vision briefly grayed out and he found himself lying back on the pillows.  

“You with me, sonny?” asked Recovery Girl.  

“Yep,” said Izuku.  

“Say something other than ‘yep.’”

“Okay.  Ow.  Fingers hurt.”

“That is one of the risks of frostbite.”

“Oh.  Okay.”

Recovery Girl nodded and gave him a brief checkover, before going back to finish with Todoroki.  That left Izuku alone with his phone.  

He toyed sleepily with his phone, then opened up the group chat the class (plus Hatsume and Shinsou) had put together for sports festival planning.  He considered it.  

“Todoroki?” he called.  “What’s your phone number?”

.

A ding from both Ochako and Shouji’s phones interrupted their conversation.  Ochako grabbed hers immediately.  It could be Iida–

It wasn’t Iida.  

She squinted at the phone.  “Why did Midoriya make a new group chat called ‘Plan to Find Iida and Torment Endeavor Until He Dies and Everyone Can Be Friends?’

“Smiley emoji,” added Shouji.  

“Smiley emoji,” agreed Ochako.  

Several messages appeared, one after another, asking that exact question.  The ‘typing’ ellipsis appeared, and disappeared, and reappeared several times.  Finally, Midoriya sent the message ‘because he deserves it.’

“... Iida or Endeavor?”

“I don’t know.  Why would Endeavor deserve…”  She reviewed the chat title.  “To be tormented until he dies?”

“Maybe it’s because Todoroki blew him up and he wants revenge?”

They looked at each other.  

“No,” they said together.  

“Yeah, there’s no way,” said Ochako.  

“He’s sending maps, now,” said Shouji, bemused.  

He was.  The first several were of the streets around UA, covered in a bewildering array of color-coded notation.  The last appeared to be crudely drawn maps of… Endeavor’s agency and house?  As Ochako watched, Midoriya posted a screenshot from a catalogue for a company that, apparently, specialized in mailing live insects.  

.

“Well, at least his drug-induced plans have more artistic merit than my brother’s,” said Yoichi.

“No, seriously, what is it with your family and mailing spiders?” asked Banjo.  “Why is that the default?”

.

Momo, typed Midoriya, Momo, we need to send him fire extinguishers.  It would be so funny, Momo.  Iida would agree with me.

“Do you think he hit his head when Todoroki blasted him?”

“I’d be more surprised if he hadn’t,” said Shouji.  

The buzzer for the next match went off, startling both of them.  Ochako had heard it for each of her matches, and it still surprised her!  Quickly, she put her phone in one of the prepared lockers.  

“Sorry, Shouji!”

“Beat him for me,” said Shouji, giving her about a dozen thumbs-up.  “Be the instrument of my revenge.”

Ochako snorted.  “Are you channeling Tokoyami?”

“Something like that.  Good luck, Uraraka!”

.

She could do this, she could do this, she could do this–  Ochako flexed her hands, making sure all her fingers were limber, that they wouldn’t spasm or lock up when she needed to move them.  

For her plan to work, everything had to go perfectly.  

… Which probably meant it wasn’t a very good plan, huh?

She surveyed the ring.  Cementoss had done a great job fixing everything, at least on the surface, but it didn’t look like he’d added or reinforced anything.  

This had to work.  

“You’re the floaty one that’s always hanging around Deku, right?  Covering for him?  If you’re going to back down, better do it now, ‘cause tapping out later isn’t going to do it.”

“Oi!” said Midnight.  “If you’re going to say stuff like that, you need to listen to the rules again!”

.

Izuku let his phone fall back into his lap, content to know he’d set his plans in motion.  

“I’d never considered spiders,” said Todoroki, drawing another diagram of Endeavor’s agency on the back of a paper towel.  “It’s so simple, so brilliant.  Do you think that if we get a big enough one, he might set the house on fire?”

“I have heard people say that they’ll burn down their house if a scary bug is in there,” said Izuku.  He thought that might be hyperbole… But he wasn’t one hundred percent sure, and Todoroki seemed so happy about the possibility.  “Don’t you live there, though?  And, um… do you have siblings?”  He couldn’t remember if Todoroki had mentioned any siblings.

Todoroki frowned.  “Yes, that is a good point.”

“It’d be unheroic.  The poor spiders.”

“The spiders?”

“The spiders.  

The TV in the corner played the sports festival jingle, drawing their attention back to the screen.  Bakugo and Uraraka were there, squaring off in the ring.  

“I will cheer for Uraraka,” said Todoroki.  

Izuku bobbed his head.  “She’s a much better friend than Bakugo.”  He paused, considering his next words carefully.  “And prettier.”

.

“I ship it,” said En.  

.

“... Do you think she can win?” asked Todoroki.  

“Yeah,” said Izuku, hardly even thinking about it.  “Kacchan is a close combat expert.”  Or as close as anyone could get at their age.  Izuku still remembered the time he’d fought those high schoolers.  “At close range, he has no weaknesses, and his quirk gives him a lot of mobility.  He can even maneuver in midair!  But all of that also applies to Uraraka, and if she touches him even once, then he'll have to navigate while floating, and he doesn't have any real practice with that.”  His eyes flicked back and forth across the screen as Kacchan and Uraraka started moving.  “So, unless he got brain damage while fighting Tsuburaba or Shouji, he's going to want to keep his distance.  That removes some of his advantages.”

“You're remarkably coherent, considering how many pain pills you just took.”

“Recovery Girl made you take pain pills as well.”

“Yes, but I've developed a tolerance to this type over time, as they are the ones that are most often administered with this kind of frostbite medication.”

“You what?” screeched Recovery Girl, practically bounding in from where she'd been working in the next room.  She dragged Todoroki away.  

“Huh,” said Izuku.  

.

Ochako dove out of the way of Bakugo’s latest blast.  Come on, come on, she’d been close that time, so close, get angrier.  For lack of anything better to do, she lunged forward.  Bakugo snarled like a feral dog and blasted her back, jumping back himself at the same time.  

She'd messed up her first move.  Midoriya had said, during planning, that Bakugo favored a right hook to open a fight, and that had been what he'd done in his first matches, what she'd expected, but he'd opened with an explosion.  Still from the right, so she'd been able to react, even psych him out by tossing her jacket at him as a decoy before the smoke cleared, but she'd been too slow to follow through.  Like Midoriya said, Bakugo had amazing reflexes.  

But she hadn’t really expected her first move to work.  

That wasn’t her plan.  

“Doing what you did with the froggy chick isn’t going to work,” snarled Bakugo, “doesn’t matter how much you copy stupid Deku, either, I’m not going to be taken out by a coat.”

People in the stands were shouting.  Ochako couldn’t afford to listen to them, couldn’t afford to pay attention to anything except Bakugo.  

And if she kept pressuring him, he wouldn’t be able to pay attention to anything but her.  

She charged again, rolled away from an explosion, dug her hands into a crack in the concrete to avoid being thrown out of the ring, charged forward again, low to the ground.  There was a chance he’d realize that she was keeping low, despite how easy it’d be for her to remove her own gravity and attack from above, but it was a risk she had to take.  

Dodge, fall, roll, charge.  She wasn’t going to give up, and she wasn’t going to let Bakugo get her.  

She was going to win.  And she was going to win without giving him any warning.  

Faster.  More.  Bigger explosions.  He was getting frustrated.  Maybe he’d make a stupid mistake, and actually let her touch him.  Part of her hoped not.  She wanted to demolish him, to show that she was going to demolish him from the very beginning.  That it was skill that let her win, not luck.  

Of course, she wouldn’t say no to some luck.  

Duck.  Go for his ankles.  Get kicked for her efforts.  Use the momentum to roll away from his sparking hands.  Grit her teeth against shards of concrete hitting her skin like shrapnel.  Squint through the dust and smoke kicked up by the explosions.  Be glad that humans had become much more durable since the advent of quirks.  

Then, while rolling, look up.  Check the positions of her floating armory, hundreds of chunks of concrete, from pebbles to chunks larger than her head, anything she could touch and affect with her quirk.  Slam her fingers together to release it, let it all fall in an artificial meteor shower.  Cover her head, to protect herself, in case she’d gotten her position wrong.  

Watch Bakugo realize what was happening.  

.

“I think Uraraka is my new favorite hero,” said Midoriya.  His phone, still in his lap, vibrated.  Probably his dad again.  

Maybe he should answer?

.

“Sorry, Toshinori, that’s completely valid,” said Nana.  

“Never mind that!  We have to tell him not to answer that phone!  Start the chant!”

.

It wasn’t going to be enough.  Bakugo was shielding himself with his explosions, blasting most of the chunks away completely.  It made sense.  His quirk was the one that had made the chunks in the first place.  But some were getting through.  And Ochako–

She remembered how this bully had chased down her friend in the middle of the cafeteria, how even in this match he still called Midoriya Deku, and she made one last charge.  

Five fingers.  Contact.  

Bakugo’s own explosions shoved his suddenly weightless body down, his elbows cracking hard against the surface of the ring, and Ochako shoved him sideways, purposefully sending him spinning.  She knew how disorienting that could be, and the fact that Bakugo didn’t hurl had her grudging respect.  

He tried to stabilize himself with his blasts, but the meteor storm continued, bouncing him off the ground and keeping him from aiming his arms.  Ochako ran after him.  The meteor storm was starting to thin, and she needed to end this fight before Bakugo could recover.  

She aimed a kick at his side, and, spotting her, he let off a series of blasts– that spun him right out of the rink.  A little alarmed at his speed, she clapped her hands together, and he hit the ground before he made it to the arena’s wall, skidding through the grass.  

Out of bounds.  She’d won.  

More than a little nauseous and feeling every one of the bruises Bakugo had given her, Ochako sank to her knees.  

She’d won.  

And she’d have to fight Todoroki in the next round.  

She leaned over and threw up the remains of her lunch.

.

“Uraraka won,” said Izuku.  His eyes were wide enough that they were in danger of popping out of his head.  “She won.  Kacchan lost.”  Something like glee bubbled in his chest, alongside the painful twinge of Danger Sense.  His smile slid off his face.  “Kacchan got beat up.”

“Kacchan…?”

“Bakugo,” explained Izuku, briefly, watching as Kacchan was peeled off the grass and loaded onto a stretcher.  “He got beat up.  He’s coming here.”  He wobbled his way out of his bed.  “I’ve got to get out of here.”

“Understood,” said Todoroki, moving to help him.  

“No,” said Recovery Girl.  Then, suspiciously, “Why do you want to leave just because that boy is coming here?”

“Um,” said Izuku.  

Weirdly enough, Danger Sense started to ease off.  What was that about?

“I’ll put him in a separate bay,” said Recovery Girl, when Izuku didn’t answer.  “Don’t leave.  I haven’t finished healing you yet.  And I’ll be putting a quick stop to any juvenile behavior.”

“Okay,” said Izuku, meekly.  

“I suppose it’s a good thing you two were both stopped at third place, if there’s some history between you.  That kind of thing is never solved with fists.”

He and Kacchan… were both in third place.  That meant they were on the same level.  Literally.  They’d be in the same place on the podium.  Sharing third place.  Right next to each other.  On national TV.  

He stared blankly at the opposite wall.  

“Would you like me to try and sneak you out?” asked Todoroki, quietly.  “My brother and sister gave me some tips.”

“No,” said Izuku, stoically.  “There’s no running from this.”  Besides, All Might was going to be giving out the medals, and he wasn’t missing that even if Kacchan blew him up a million times.  

.

Tensei’s hand trembled as it gripped the edge of the photograph.  It was a faux-retro Polaroid clone instant photo, taken in a dark space with a bright flash.  It showed Tenya lying on concrete, unconscious.  Other than the concrete showing that the location was in some building, there were no other clues that might have told Tensei where it had been taken, and, honestly, given his captor’s quirk, even if he could figure out where it had been taken, there was no guarantee Tenya would still be there.  

He lowered the photo to his lap and looked up at his captor.  The mist villain, Kurogiri, looked at him impassively with his yellow eyes.  The room they were in was small, more of a closet than anything else, only big enough for their two chairs, and had a distinctly unfinished appearance.  

“What do you want?”

“I want Shigaraki Tomura to develop into an outstanding villain.”  Kurogiri reached up to the metal collar that sat around his neck, above his suit, and adjusted it slightly, almost absent-mindedly.  “For him to do that, he must have… allies.  Friends.”

Despite Tensei waiting patiently, Kurogiri didn’t continue.  “And you kidnapped me and my brother about it, because…?”  

Villains were often irrational - Shouta would say that villainy was fundamentally irrational - but Tensei was honestly at a loss as to how Shigaraki Tomura needing friends translated into Kurogiri snatching him off the street and using Tenya as a hostage.  He’d initially thought this was some kind of revenge scheme, seeing as Tensei had contributed to electrocuting him at the USJ, but Kurogiri hadn’t even brought that up.  

Kurogiri’s eyes narrowed.  Thoughtfully, although Tensei couldn’t say why he had that impression.  It wasn’t as if Kurogiri’s face was particularly expressive.  

“You have expertise in the matter,” said Kurogiri.  

“In… getting friends for villains?”  Yeah, Tensei was friends with vigilantes, but that was completely different.  None of his vigilante friends had tried to kill his little brother, for one.  That would’ve been kind of a dealbreaker.  

This time, Kurogiri tugged on his collar.  “No…” he said.  “That’s not it.  Certainly… it was something else.  It was something else.”

What, he didn’t even know?  He kidnapped two people and didn’t even know why?  

“It must have been…  Your expertise in being a friend.  Yes.  You must be Shigaraki Tomura’s friend.”

Ah, heck.  Tensei wanted to do what this guy said, if only for Tenya’s sake, but there was a limit to what was possible.  He didn’t want to upset Kurogiri, or make him decide it was better to dispose of him and Tenya, but he also didn’t want to be turned into a pile of dust, and have the same outcome for Tenya.  That was unacceptable.

“Doesn’t your buddy kind of hate heroes and everything they stand for?  Isn’t that going to be a major problem with me becoming his friend?”

Kurogiri stared blankly at him as if he couldn’t comprehend the issue.  

“Won’t he just kill me?”

“Why would he kill his friend?”

“Well, I wouldn’t be his friend yet?”

More incomprehension.  Maybe Tensei shouldn’t be so judgemental.  He didn’t know what was going on either.  

“Like, he doesn’t know me?  So we’re not friends?”

Kurogiri inclined his head slightly, looking down.  “No.  I suppose not.  Even so… It is undeniable that you are an expert.”

Why was it undeniable that he was a friendship expert?  He’d never considered himself one.  

“Of course, it would have been ideal to collect the others as well, but such a large group would have been outside my ability to control.”

“The others?”

“The others.”

“What others?”

“The others,” said Kurogiri, clarifying absolutely nothing.  

Yeah.  Okay.  He wasn’t sure why he expected a more coherent response.  

“So, what is your advice, with regards to Shigaraki Tomura’s development?”  

“Uh,” said Tensei.  “For him to get friends?”

“I already know that is necessary.”

“I mean, is that what you want me to… advise about?”  He winced.  A hero advising a villain, even in this situation was… bad.  Tensei might lose his license over this.  The commission wasn’t exactly known for their forgiving and understanding nature.  

Tenya was worth it.  

“Precisely.  You ought to stop stalling.”  Kurogiri nodded towards the picture Tensei was still holding.  

If possible, Tensei’s jaw clenched more.  He’d have to take a trip to the dentist after this, just to make sure he hadn’t damaged any of his fillings.  

“Well.  The first thing you’ve got to do as a…  What’s your relationship to Shigaraki, anyway?”

“I am…  Shigaraki Tomura’s caretaker.”

Right.  Figured that a psychopathic manchild would need a babysitter.  “Okay.  First thing you’ve got to do as a… caretaker, is acknowledge that you’re not going to be able to control what friends he makes.  At some point, he’s going to have to make his own friends, and not all of the friends he makes will be ones you like.”  That’s what the big brother advice blogs he’d read when Tenya was an itsy-bitsy baby said, anyway.  Not that Tenya had ever had any truly troublesome friends.  

“Hmm,” said Kurogiri, leaning back.  Why did that particular hmm sound familiar to Tensei?  “Continue.”

“Alright.  Well…  Other than that, you should look for people who have similar interests and goals.  People he can, uh, do activities with.”  He twirled a finger in the air.  “People with commonalities.  That’s how most friendships form.  And, of course, you have to spend time together.”

“That is why most make their friends in school.”

“Uhm, yeah,” said Tensei.  “Did Shigaraki go to school?”  Because, heck, he might as well try and get some information out of this.  

Kurogiri didn’t answer.  Instead, he stood up.  “Do not attempt to leave,” he said, before vanishing into one of his own portals.