* 𝐈'𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆.

HE  HATES  IT  ;     how  kurogiri  has  always  managed  to  soften  sharp  edges  —  despite  being  at  her  disposal.     “   pass  me  some  water.   ”   the  master's  gift  to  him  has  never  been  that  …  never  just  that.     “     he  doesn't  understand.  —   he  calls  me  a  failure  and  then  gets  himself  captured.  how  are  we  not  the  same?  if  he  would've  let  me  stay,   he  wouldn't  be  in  tartarus. ” 

" SO DO YOU. " his improving strength is nearly palpable, like a wall she can't tear past; though it's a similar sensation he's felt when standing near re-destro before his fall, this feels different. he feels different. geten meets his eyes, steeled gaze against the clash of red, lifting his chin in what he hopes to be a display of pride. of gratitude, perhaps. " it's good to see you around more. as for my position... " his eyes cast elsewhere. admittedly, it's been an adjustment; the shift of power alone has been a struggle to accept. but having the luxury — a true luxury, he knows, though he doesn't quite understand why — of shigaraki taking a liking to him made it easier. after the buckle of his former leader, metamorphosed into a shell of who he once was, it was good to have someone to look towards who, too, earned his respect. " i think it's been going as well as it can, " she decides, casting her gaze back towards him. " it's not too different from what i did before you came along. i feel as though i'm finally settling in... hopefully you agree. "

"   IT'S  GOOD  TO  BE  AROUND  MORE.   i  was  getting  tired  of  laying  in  bed.   "    a  vast  difference  to  what  she  might've  said  even  a  few  months  ago.  laziness  has  been  replaced  with  purpose.   the  time  to  grieve  its  master  has  passed;   now  is  the  time  to  act.   to  organize.   to  build  up  his  numbers.   redestro  is  no  longer  the  strong-willed  leader  the  liberation  army  clung  to  and  followed.   he  crumbled  beneath  her  hand  as  everything  does  —  as  everything  always  will.   she  relies  on  the  other  up-holders  of  the  army  to  be  his  hands  and  feet,   spreading  shigaraki's  word  through  their  cult  like  the  very  word  of  god.   these  glimpses  of  humanity  are  only  spared  for  those  he  likes;   simple  as  that.   and  he  likes  geten.    "   yeah,    i  do.   i  think  you're  doing  great.   "    their  first  stop:   the  infirmary.   less  to  check  up  on  patients,  more  to  touch  base  with  the  liberation  front's  doctors.    "   doubt  its  easy  to  be  partnered  with  dabi,  but  your  quirks  work  too  well  together  –  and  there's  no  one  i  trust  more  with  the  violet  squad   ...   anyways,    you  have  any  plans  today?   skeptic  wants  to  meet,  but  honestly,  i'm  trying  to  get  out  of  it.   "

THE GAME SPRAWLS BEFORE THEM, exposing unlimited possibilities at their fingertips. overhaul's hands return to their steeple, golden eyes drifting to observe shigaraki in thought. despite her agitation towards the game itself, it seems as if she's beginning to take it more seriously — which, notwithstanding the grating disrespect that it displayed not long ago, is an optimistic change of pace. " take your time. the point of this game is to be strategic, using your arsenal to your advantage, " he murmurs, lurching back against the couch. his eyes flick to the ceiling, bringing his fingertips towards the back of the couch. " i don't plan on going easy on you, beginner or not. those bullets ... they're another pawn piece of mine. i plan on toppling the scales, introducing natural order again. " his hand raises, flicking dismissively. " i can tell you how in time. right now, i said my piece. it's your turn. "

" TENKO. " his voice, low from a lack of use; his eyes, heavy from the sudden awakening from his slumber, despite his lids raised from mild surprise. it's late. later than, he knows, tenko is to be out alone, and while part of him is inclined to inform toshinori of the escapade, the expression in his eyes keeps his lips sealed. rather, aizawa takes a step back, shifting his body in silent gesture to come inside. his hand lifts, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. when he opens them, his vision is as hazy and unkempt as he looks. " ... can't promise you anything, but... take a seat. let's talk. "

"    IF  YOU  HAVE  TO ...   "    she  would  understand.   an  unstable  late-teen  versus  whatever  he  and  toshinori  pretend  not  to  have.   it  steps  in,   pushing  a  hand  through  his  hair.   he's  been  here,  but  never  without  toshinori.   brows  knit  behind  his  bangs,  taking  in  the  surroundings  once  again.    "   sorry  —   i  just  need  someone  to  talk  to.   "    he  finds  the  couch  and  runs  a  gloved  hand  over  the  arm  before  sitting.   "   i  wasn't  sure  where  else  i  could  go,   but  if  you're  too  tired—  i  can  go.  i'd  get  it.   "

" CLASHING PERSONALITIES AND HEIGHTENED EMOTIONS will do that to you. " their voice, hushed beneath the mask just enough for only tenko to perceive what he says, rolls from their lips so smoothly he nearly hums. golden eyes survey the room before them curiously, thin eyebrows pinched together in well-contained agitation. despite the tranquility of kai's body, shoulders relaxed and hands knit upon his lap, he's just as exasperated as his partner; this bickering seems to be a pattern of growing concern. " that's just it — there are people to save. i imagine that's why everyone's so tense; they're passionate about how to go about their jobs. good in theory, but when you don't know how to debate... " their hand outstretches, subtly beckoning to the entropy. " this is what happens. "

"    IT'S  A  WASTE  OF  TIME.   "       elbow  rests  lazily  on  the  arm  of  the  chair.   her  hand  sits  propped  on  her  knuckles.   legs  cross  at  the  knee  as  its  toe  taps  in  annoyance.   soft  eyes  land  upon  him  as  he  speaks,   thankful  to  have  something  else  to  focus  on  rather  than  the  growing  volume  of  the  conference  room.    "   you'd  think  they'd  make  'how  to  resolve  conflict'  a  part  of  the  hero  course.   "    but  no,   all  she  sees  are  people  much  better  at  talking  with  their  bodies  than  mouths.   not  that  he  has  any  room  to  talk  —  he's  the  same.   the  body  has  always  been  the  best  speaker  for  its  true  thoughts.   his  voice  is  scratched  and  whispery,   almost  as  if  it  had  been  lost  after  a  night  of  screaming.   but  it  never  changes.  it's  been  like  nails  on  chalkboard  for  as  long  as  he  can  remember.    "   maybe  i  should  step  in.   what  do  you  think,  strategy  wise?   "

"  IT  HAS,   and  i  want  to  talk  to  you  alone.   "     she  steps  calmly  beside  him.  its  started  to  hold  itself  differently,  these  days.  he's  traded  hoodies  and  sweats  for  a  suit.   fur  lines  his  jacket.   appearances  make  the  man,   or  so  a  former  teacher  might've  thought.    the hands  of  his  family  are  all  but  crushed.   father's  hand  —  the  hand  of  god  remains,  only.  it  sits  tucked  into  a  nightstand;   a  reminder  of  his  past,   yet  not  a  path  of  his  future.   yes,   perhaps  its  the  long  future  she's  finally  been  able  to  see.  a  legacy  beyond  his  master's.   a  legacy,   perhaps,   even  beyond  his  own.   rare  benevolence  pulls  upon  the  corners  of  cracked  lips.   it  rips  away  the  scabs,  dripping  just  a  hint  of  blood  back  into  her  mouth.   ruby  eyes  fall  on  geten,  and  within  her,   she  sees  so  much  more.    a  legacy  beyond  his  own.    "  you  look  good.   how  have  you  been  settling  into  your  position?   "

"   MMM.   "    lips  pull  downward,   equally  displeased  at  the  move  and  overhaul's  voice.   shoes  hit  the  ground  as  it's  her  turn  to  play.   hands  rest  on  both  knees,  and  it  lurches  forward.   god,   meet  death.   its  leer  spreads  across  the  board  plague  like  and  destructive.   strands  of  blue-grey  hair  fall  over  his  face,   almost  obscuring  the  peek  of  crimson  eyes.   if  overhaul  wants  to  play  so  badly,   she'll  play.  and upon studying the board:    "   kurogiri's  doing  something  for  me.   if  you  want  to  know  what,   i  can  share  that  information  ...   once  we  talk  about  the  plan  with  your  quirk-erasing  bullets.   "