#whispersinthetrees

Come on, come on. Once in the elevator, she punched at the first floor button, begging it to go faster. When the doors opened with a bing, she rushed forward and turn-

“Oof!”

She looked up, head spinning, “Oh! Class President! Perfect! And you too, Midoriya!”

Kyouka grabbed their sleeves and pulled them into the elevator, ignoring their surprised yelps.

“I need your help,” Kyouka took a deep breath as the doors closed, looking first at Iida and then Midoriya.

“I think there’s something wrong with All Might.”

Izuku’s heart raced. The moment the words left Jirou’s mouth, One for All stirred under his skin. When the doors slid open, he was the first to All Might’s door.

“There’s something in the way,” Jirou said and called out, “Iida and Midoriya are here with me, All Might-sensei!”

“All Might, can you hear us?” Izuku asked, trying to look through the narrow opening.

Scritchscritch…

A low, inhuman groan drifted into the hall followed by a wet cough.

“I’m coming in! Back away from the door a bit, okay?” Izuku warned. One for All flared across his skin, and he carefully shoved the door. The fallen dresser scraped loudly as it moved, and Izuku pushed himself through the opening as soon as he could fit.

All Might’s room was dark, only faintly lit by the light of the hallway. Izuku blinked rapidly, squinting as his eyes adjusted.

His stomach dropped.

All Might sat back on his haunches, forehead pressed against the left wall. He raised his arm, scratching at the wall with capped claws - making only dull marks in the paint.  

Scritchscritch.

“Is All Might okay?” Iida called from the hall, giving the door a small shove.

“I… Stay back for a minute,” Izuku slowly approached his mentor. Bending a little, he looked at All Might’s face. Unfocused blue eyes rolled as if dreaming behind drooping eyelids. “I’m not sure if he’s hurt. I think he’s sleepwalking.”

He reached out and gently brushed his fingertips against All Might’s shoulder, furrowing his brow when his mentor didn’t respond to the touch.

“All… All Might?” Izuku whispered uncertainly.

A choked moan escaped All Might as he shuddered, hackles raising. His hand left the wall and clutched at his head. He curled further into himself, panting.

Izuku gaped, hands hovering over All Might’s shaking shoulders.

“All Might? Are you- ?”

A low growl ripped from All Might’s throat, and his tail thrashed.

Izuku paled and backed away, giving his mentor space.

“Midoriya?” Iida called out from the doorway, “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know!” Izuku called back, “I think he’s having a nightmare!”

Suddenly, All Might stumbled back and shook his head. His eyes snapped upward, glaring, unfocused, at the space just above Izuku’s left shoulder.

There’s… Izuku glanced back, there’s nothing there…

“It’s … It’s not real,” Izuku comforted softly, unable to keep the tremble from his voice, “It’s okay. You’re dreaming, All Might. It isn’t real.”

All Might crouched on all fours, eyes glowing and tail slashing through the air - slamming against his bed and desk.

Panicked thoughts raced through Izuku’s head. Something’s wrong. Something’s really wrong. He swallowed roughly, holding out his right hand - palm up.

“All Might!” Izuku moved into his line of sight, “Wake up!”

All Might froze.

Bending, he pressed his forehead to the floor, pained gasps shaking his core. A shudder wracked his emaciated figure, and he looked up, staring past Izuku with a snarl.  

The muscles in All Might’s limbs coiled.

Run.

“No,” Izuku took a step forward, “It’s me. It’s alright!”

All Might lunged, colliding roughly against Izuku.

Burning, slicing pain cut into his left shoulder, and Izuku let out a strangled yelp.

Iida slammed against the door, shoving the dresser aside, “MIDORIY-”

Crun-KRAK!

Izuku slapped a shaking hand over his mouth, muffling the pained noise in his throat as his collarbone snapped beneath his skin.

All Might’s panting breath brushed hotly over Izuku’s shoulder and his claws, though capped, pressed into his sides. A low, wavering growl rumbled from All Might’s chest and vibrated through Izuku’s bones.

Wet warmth spread from his shoulder and dripped down his arm.

“Midoriya!” Iida’s shout startled Izuku, and he choked back a sob.

“I-Iida,” Izuku swallowed roughly, gesturing to keep his classmate away, “Ru-hss! Run and get Recovery Girl. All Might is- Ah! T-there’s something wrong with All Might.”

Jirou called from nearby, “What about you?”  

“I’m fine! Go get Recovery Girl, Iida!” Izuku yelled, tearily grimacing as tooth ground against bone. “All Might needs our help!”

“O...okay,” Iida stuttered, “I-I’ll be back soon!”

Iida raced away, the sound of the stairwell door slamming echoing down the hall.

“What can I do?” Jirou’s voice trembled from the doorway.

“Do you have your phone?” Izuku asked, mind racing.

“It’s in my room,” his classmate answered, “Oh! The list on the fridge - for emergencies!”

Izuku attempted to nod, freezing in pain, “Call Aizawa-sensei.”

“Alright, Midoriya,” Jirou called out, her voice growing further away, “Hang in there!”

Once it was quiet, Izuku hesitantly wrapped his uninjured arm around All Might and gripped his thin nightshirt.

“All Might?” Izuku strained to look at his mentor’s face, but gave up, slowly pulling him into a tighter embrace, “All Might, it’s me.”

The panting continued.

“All Might,” Izuku rubbed gentle circles on his back, “It… It was a nightmare. It wasn’t real. It’s not your fault, okay? None of this is your fault.”

Izuku wrinkled his nose, suppressing a cough. He tried not to think about the acrid smoke coiling from his shoulder.

The low growl faded slowly, replaced by a small tremor. The toothy grip loosened as All Might’s jaw popped back into place.  

Izuku hissed, wincing as the teeth pulled out of his shoulder.

All Might’s legs collapsed, and Izuku adjusted his grip with a grunt, lowering them both to the floor.

Hearing a soft groan, Izuku pressed his forehead into All Might’s shirt.

“Not your fault… Not your fault…” Izuku whispered as he choked back his tears. “It’s not your fault…”

“M..y b-boy? Wh..ere -? W-wha…?” All Might coughed wetly and sat up, shaking. He stared as scattered droplets of saliva burned through his pants. Stiffening, he looked up, panicked, “Midoriya? No-!”

All Might pulled from Izuku’s grip, and Izuku fell back, clutching his jostled arm with a pained grunt.

“No, no, no, my boy. No nonon-,” All Might’s protests devolved into a low moan, one hand hovering over Izuku’s sizzling wound and the other clutching at his own head, claws digging into his scalp.

All Might suddenly shuddered, eyes glazing over and hands falling to the floor - their strings cut. He slowly sat back on his haunches, dazed.

“All…?” Izuku reached out, flinching as his shoulder throbbed.

Footsteps raced down the hall and skid to a stop outside the room.

“Midoriya!” Iida called out, “I brought Recovery Girl!”

“Alright, set me down right here. Thank you. Oh my, oh my… What is all this?” Recovery Girl stepped over the dresser and into the room. “Iida, stay there until I call for you.”

Iida panted, “Is- Is Midoriya - Are they alright?”

Recovery Girl hummed, “They will be, dear. Leave it to me and wait outside.”

“Re-” Izuku tried to turn, biting back a tearful yelp. He could hear his collarbone grind and protest the movement.

“Try not to move, Midoriya,” Recovery Girl advised softly, setting her first aid kit beside him. She glanced back at All Might and sighed, “None of us saw this possibility, did we? I’m so sorry, Toshinori.”

All Might panted, shoulders hunched, but didn’t respond.

Recovery Girl tutted, turning her attention to Izuku and the red stain cooling against his skin.

“I need to remove your shirt to get a proper look at this,” she said evenly, opening her medical case.

“What about All Might?” Izuku asked, his worried gaze fixed on his mentor.

“You first,” Recovery Girl reminded him, pulling a small pair of scissors from her bag.

All Might stiffened. His focus snapped to the shining metal, pupils glowing pinpricks in the half-light. Baring his teeth, he snarled, a low noise rumbling from his throat.

Recovery Girl huffed, “None of that now. I’m helping.”

His faintly glowing eyes remained on the scissors, hackles raising slowly.  

“It’s … It’s alright. Sshhh,” Izuku hushed softly, “It’s going to be okay.”

“Says the one in need of the most help here,” Recovery Girl shook her head as All Might shuddered, cutting Izuku’s pajama shirt from his collar and down the short sleeve, “Iida told me he was sleepwalking?”  

“Yes, he was having a nightmare…” Izuku muttered. He hissed through his teeth as Recovery Girl peeled his cut sleeve away, and tears trailed down his cheeks, “This isn’t his fault. He didn’t mean to -” He winced.  

Recovery Girl sighed heavily, gently cleaning the bite and the irritated burns on his skin, “What am I going to do with you two?”

All Might trembled, his low growl shifting to a soft moan as he clutched his head. Breaths reduced to wheezing pants, his tail curled around his body defensively.

“Recovery Girl,” Izuku hesitantly looked from All Might to her and asked quietly, “What’s really wrong with him? That wasn’t just sleepwalking. All for One… The reason All Might has these quirks… All for One was trying to make him-” Izuku’s throat constricted, and he bowed his head.

Recovery Girl gently dabbed the bite, frowning at the shape of Izuku’s clavicle.

“Yes,” she finally said softly, “That man was trying to create a noumu out of All Might… Don’t cry, dear. You’ll jostle your shoulder.”

Izuku sniffled and rubbed at his eyes.

“It’s not fair. He just got back. I feel like… like he’s going to disappear.”

Recovery Girl paused and passed a small pack of tissues to Izuku, “He’s not going anywhere, boy.”

“But he isn’t okay,” Izuku bit his lip, “He’s here, but it’s not okay. Has this been happening since he got back? How- ?”

“Yes, but now is not the time. Come, dear, your friend is worried.” Recovery Girl planted a small kiss on his shoulder.

Izuku saw stars as his energy suddenly tanked. His collarbone clicked into place, and his skin itched fiercely as it mended.  

Finishing with Izuku, Recovery Girl turned, staring long and hard at All Might. He leaned heavily against his bed in a daze, sightless eyes staring through Izuku.  

Recovery Girl pursed her lips, an uncertain look in her eyes, “Iida, dear, you can come in now. Help me get All Might back into bed. I’ll watch over him tonight.”

Iida helped Izuku up first and held him steady. He stared down at the tacky, red stain marring Izuku’s cut shirt, “Midoriya?”

Izuku blinked as spots danced in his eyes, but he forced a smile and gave Iida a thumbs-up, “Just need to sleep ‘s all. Go on and help Recovery Girl.”

Iida nodded hesitantly before kneeling down beside Recovery Girl and All Might.

“All Might,” Recovery Girl said softly, placing her hand on his cheek and gently running her thumb across his cheekbone, “Iida is going to help you get into bed. Do you think you can stand?”

Pointed ears twitching slightly at her words, All Might furrowed his brows, perplexed.

“Can…” Iida gently moved closer, “Can he hear us? Is he still asleep? His behavior - is this normal for…” He gestured to Toshinori’s changes, “Surely there is someone who went through something similar?”

The only others… Noumu, Izuku tensed, tears pricking his eyes. All Might could have ended up- He gagged, stomach churning and head spinning.

“If you are going to vomit, do so in the bathroom, dear,” Recovery Girl chided softly as she nudged All Might to lean against Iida.

Izuku pressed his hand to his forehead, waiting for the world to stop spinning, “No, I’m - I’m fine.”

Iida knelt and pulled All Might’s right arm over his shoulders. Reaching around his back, he firmly grasped his side.

All Might flinched away, inhaling sharply through his teeth.

“Careful of his side, Iida dear,” Recovery Girl moved Iida’s grip, “He has an old injury there.”

“O-oh,” Iida stuttered, glancing nervously at the spot beneath the flimsy nightshirt.  

“Come along, All Might,” Recovery Girl nudged his legs under him and pat his thigh, “Iida needs some help getting you up.”

“Here,” Izuku moved forward, ignoring the unsteady tilt of the world. He held out his hand, “Let me help.”

All Might’s gaze drifted up, slowly focusing on Izuku. Sluggishly, he lifted his hand and laid it in Izuku’s, clawed fingers gripping weakly.

“That’s it,” Izuku smiled softly, gently pulling All Might as Iida stood. He gave his hand a small squeeze as Iida turned and backed him onto his bed. “Get some rest, okay?”  

Iida grunted as All Might sagged, eyes fluttering closed, and he lowered him onto the bed.

Recovery Girl sighed, pushing his clawed feet onto the bed and pulling his blanket over him.

The sound of the stairwell door opening echoed down the hall, followed by two sets of footsteps.

“They’re in here,” Izuku heard Jirou say.

All Might’s bedroom door thumped against the fallen dresser as Aizawa pushed his way inside. The erasing hero paused mid-stride, gaze raking the room before settling on Izuku’s bloodstained shirt and the faint white marks on his shoulder.

“What happened here?” he asked, voice low.

Toshinori stirred beneath his sheets, brows furrowing as he drifted into consciousness. Grimacing, he stuck out his tongue. His mouth tasted like rust.

Blood. Shoulder. Green eyes. The right voice. Hand grasping...

Izuku! Toshinori scrambled to sit up only to fall back onto his mattress as a wave of dizziness and nausea crashed into him. He clutched his pounding head, cursing softly and curling into himself. The fragmented memories slipping away again like a dream.

“Now, now,” a soft hand brushed against his forehead, “Take it slow. You’ve had an eventful night.”

“Chi..yo?” Toshinori coughed and rubbed at his throat. It felt raw - agitated. Again.

“Drink some water, dear,” Recovery Girl said softly.

Hearing a faint crack of plastic, Toshinori felt her press a cool bottle into his hand. He slowly opened his eyes and gulped down a few mouthfuls before handing the bottle back.

“Do you remember anything from earlier tonight?” Chiyo asked gently. She sat in his desk chair beside his bed, hands folded in her lap.

Toshinori furrowed his brows, “I we..nt to bed early. ‘ was tired. Then…” He pulled his arms from under the blanket, checking his wrists. The shackles were gone.

“More nightmares?” Recovery Girl pressed, expression understanding.  

“Vivid…” Toshinori rubbed at his forehead. The throbbing pain was slowly abating. “ ‘ was in that damn room. Wh..ere -?” he looked around his room. Someone was missing, “Where’s Izuku? Wasn’t he... here? Or was that… ?”  

“He’s alright. I sent him back to his room to sleep.” A small frown pulled at the corners of her mouth, “Do you remember what happened?”

Toshinori shifted, wincing at the bone deep aches and pains along his tail. Kicking off his covers, he slowly sat up. Deep purple bruises dotted the length of his tail, and he rubbed at the ache in his jaw.

“What… happened?” His frown deepened, the throbbing in his head returning with a fury as he tried to think back. “I don’t-” his breath hitched, and he coughed wetly. The taste of copper coated his tongue.

Blood. Izuku holding him close. “Not your fault…”

Toshinori’s hand froze against this mouth as the memory seized him. His ears drooped, and he looked down at the blood smeared across the back of his hand.

“I … hurt him? No...” Nausea twisted his gut, and he turned back to Chiyo, “I bit him?”

Her small frown was answer enough.

“I already treated Midoriya,” Toshinori heard her say as he looked down at his claws, “He was more worried about you than himself. Remind you of anyone?”

“H..ow bad was it? I don’t - I don’t remember,” he shook and clutched at his head. The memories were fleeting, there and gone and leaving only throbbing pain behind.

Recovery Girl sighed, “Some minor lacerations and a broken clavicle, which I already mended,” she added when Toshinori flinched.

“I attacked him…” Toshinori’s claws pressed against his scalp, “That could have been anyone! Chiyo, you and Isamu said I didn’t… That I was just pacing - walking. I can’t remember.”

I hurt him. Attacked him. No. No. No...

Toshinori’s tail curled tightly, his breaths coming in wheezing gasps.

“-nori. Toshinori!”

Toshinori blinked, heart pounding and head spinning, and looked up.

Recovery Girl sighed and sat back, “Now you listen to me, and just… breathe. You’re going to be okay. The boy is already in bed and resting. I sent Eraserhead to make sure of that. He’s fine. Fine, Toshinori. You can ask Aizawa for yourself.”

Toshinori’s hackles bristled as he followed Recovery Girl’s gaze. Aizawa leaned against the opposite wall, watching.

Aizawa spoke up, answering his unspoken question, “Midoriya is back in bed. Iida and Jirou were there as well if you can’t remember. Naturally, they’re a bit shaken.” The erasing hero glanced at the faint scratch marks on the wall, “They have questions. However, it would be best if you addressed the class’ concerns as a whole and prepare a new set of rules regarding your condition… All Might?”

“Sensei’s going to set you loose one day.”

A cold knot of dread settled in Toshinori’s chest as he looked back down at his claws. The memory of Nurse Tetsumi cradling her arm - her blood smeared across the white floor - flashed behind Toshinori’s eyes.

“Your precious students won’t even recognize you when you tear at their throats.”

Toshinori paled at the sudden memory. No… He sat up straighter, brows furrowed and eyes burning.

I’m not his goddamn weapon.

“Our students deserve to know what happened,” Toshinori agreed, curling his clawed hands into half-formed fists, “And what to do should I lapse. But first,” he turned to Aizawa, meeting and holding his gaze, “Do you believe I am a threat?”

Aizawa gave him a long, measured look. Then he shrugged, “If I believed there was even a 1% chance of you harming another student, I would have escorted you to the gates myself.”  

“Besides,” He sighed heavily and deadpanned, “Midoriya adamantly and repeatedly claimed you weren’t aiming for him but something behind him.”

Recovery Girl shook her head with a chuckle and nodded, “Given your recent traumas and recurrent nightmares, I can’t think of anyone who would fault you for lashing out while unconscious. As long as they keep their distance during your lapses, I don’t see your students being in any danger.”  

Toshinori frowned, not entirely satisfied.

“I need to apologize to Midoriya,” he said finally.

“You’ll get that chance,” Recovery Girl said, reaching out and patting Toshinori’s arm, “For now, I need to take a look at you and make sure you haven’t injured yourself.”

The check-up was brief. Toshinori’s only complaint was to point out the bruises on his tail which were easily mended with a healing kiss. Still, Chiyo insisted upon checking his jaw and teeth.  

Recovery Girl closed her first aid kit with a soft snap and sighed.

“Other than your bruises, you are physically fine,” she laid her hand on Toshinori’s and gave it a small squeeze, “Are you going to be alright?”

Toshinori nodded, reaching over to his desk and popping an antacid into his mouth. The slowly building ache in his chest eased.

Chiyo frowned and pointed to his abdomen, “We still need to address that.”

“I know,” Toshinori placed the antacid container back on his desk and gently pressed at the sac in his gut. The burning worsened momentarily, but the antacid helped drive away the pain. “Massaging it seems to work, though,” he grunted uncomfortably, “it doesn’t help the heartburn.”

Recovery Girl hummed, brows furrowed, “I’ll see what I can find on acid sacs. There may be something.”

“Thank you, Chiyo,” Toshinori said, intertwining his fingers. His shoulders bent wearily, “For everything.”

“I’m glad to help, Toshinori,” she gave his back a small pat, her eyes searching for his, “Are you sure you don’t need anything?”

Toshinori hesitantly met her gaze, “Just… more time, I suppose. Time to think.”

Recovery Girl pursed her lips, “Take you time and go easy on yourself, dear. No one faults you for what you’ve been through.”

Toshinori nodded, exhaustion weighing him down.

Chiyo pat his back once more and slid from the desk chair. She carried her kit to the door where Aizawa waited to escort her back to her place. Pausing, she turned.

“If you need anything, you know how to contact me.”

“Yes ma’am,” Toshinori managed a small smile and a wave as both she and Aizawa left him, closing his door behind them. As soon as he hear the telltale bing of the elevator door, he kicked off his covers with a quiet curse. Pushing himself from his bed, he stood. His tail swung irritably, and he shifted on his long legs. He needed to move.

The dresser that he’d knocked over was back in its proper place, though the pictures and trinkets on top were piled haphazardly. Huffing, Toshinori crossed his room and carefully organized them, pausing a moment at a photo of Gran Torino, himself, and -

“Shit,” Toshinori bowed his head, gripping the cracked frame. He heaved a heavy sigh, he gently pushed the photograph - the last one taken with Nana - back into its place.

“Sorry, Master,” he said softly. He turned from the dresser and bent to pick up a piece of the cracked frame.

He froze.

Beside the shard was a small, red spot.

Mine or… ?

Nausea clenched in his gut, and he swallowed roughly. Grabbing the nearest cloth, a still-damp towel dangling from his hamper, he scrubbed the stain away.

His head throbbed. Images of Iida and Jirou’s alarmed faces flashed behind his eyelids. Aizawa said they had been there. I need to apologize... to all three of them.

Toshinori rolled his shoulders as his hackles rose.

The fog loomed at the back of his mind, lazily brushing against his consciousness. He scrubbed his hand down his face. His heart pounded against his ribcage and sent tremors down his long limbs.

Just think. Focus on something - anything else. He glanced up at his closet. His new clothes still lay folded in the bag beside it. Need to put those away.

Without a thought, he lowered his hands to the ground and took the few steps to closet. Rearing up, he opened -

“Damn it. Shit!” Toshinori grit his teeth. All fours again. His claws dug into his palms, half-formed fist smacking his thigh.

“I’m not even tired. Resting position my ass.”

It felt so natural. The thought sent his skin crawling.

Just different, Toshinori reminded himself, swallowing his unease, This is how it is.

He pressed his hands into his lower back and stretched, breathing deeply, “Alright, just get this done, Toshinori.”

Pushing his older clothes aside, he made room for his newest additions. He hung up some shirts, running his fingers along the back of each - tracing the holes. Reaching the bottom of the bag, he saw a small slip of paper and smiled softly.

Tachi Family Tailory - My father is a friend of the business owner, and they learned how to work with his quirk years ago. If you have trouble finding clothes that fit, give them a call and mention my name. -Isamu

Toshinori turned and gently placed the slip of paper on his desk. Moving to fix his overturned wastebin, a book on the floor caught his eye. When he picked it up, a few notecards slipped from the pages. He gathered the fallen cards, chuckling at his borderline excessive teaching notes, and he put them on his desk and gave the book a soft pat.

There we g-

BEEP. BEEP. BE-

Toshinori scrambled over to his bed, silencing his phone alarm with a few clumsy taps. His lock screen lit up, the time glowing across the top.

5:30AM

That time already? A wave of fatigue rushed through Toshinori as he looked to the sliding glass door. The sun wouldn’t be up for another two hours but… It felt as though he had only just gone to bed. How many hours did I actually sleep? How long was I -? His shoulders sagged, and he rubbed at his forehead.

Toshinori shook his head and barked a tired laughed, “So much for getting rest.”

Sighing, he pulled his sheets back and plopped down on his bed. He groaned at the ache in his legs and rubbed at his ankles - No, they’re hocks now. - and knees.

“What are you going to do, Toshinori?” he muttered to himself. His tail flicked, and the tufted end thumped against his phone still lying on the bed. He stared at the phone a moment, then reached across the bed to pick it up.

Absently, Toshinori flipped through his email and messages. He reread his text messages, a small smile softening his expression as he read Naomasa’s last text.  

[If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask, Toshinori. I’m not far.]

A few taps of his claws, and Toshinori raised his phone to his ear.

The line rang once, twice, three times. For a moment, Toshinori worried that perhaps it was still too early to call, that Naomasa would still be asleep. Then the ringing stopped.

“Mm? Hello?” Naomasa’s voice was rough, still groggy in the early hours of morning. In the background, Toshinori heard blankets shifting as Naomasa cleared his throat, “Toshinori?”

“Good morning, Naomasa,” Toshinori shifted, fidgeting with his blanket, “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“No, I was -” Naomasa yawned and grunted, “I was just getting up. Is everything alright?”

“It’s…” Toshinori hesitated, shame stirring in his gut. He sighed, “I need a distraction. How’s the case?”

Toshinori heard Naomasa shift again, then footsteps padding across hardwood.

“Well,” Naomasa began, “We have guests. International investigators who happened to be in the area for a case they are reluctant to talk about. They’re a bit of an odd group. Their leader is a bit… rigid.” He paused. Toshinori could hear water running and the sounds of a spoon scooping coffee grounds. Then there was a clatter of metal, and Naomasa cursed.

“Everything alright?” Toshinori asked.

Naomasa sighed, frustrated, “ ‘s fine. Just dropped the damn spoon.”

Toshinori furrowed his brow. It wasn’t like Naomasa to curse over something small - even without coffee.

“Are you alright?” he asked. “I know we’ve hardly had a chance to talk about -”

“Yeah…” Naomasa whispered, his voice suddenly strained, “Fuck… I’m not alright. This case is not alright.”

“Nao- ?”

“They had a fucking picture, Toshinori,” Naomasa hissed through his teeth, “They saw and did nothing.”

Toshinori’s brows rose, “What? Naomasa, who -? Is someone hurt?”

“You. It was - It was you. They saw you being taken into that storage building. That night - I should have -” Naomasa choked, “I’m sorry. Damnit, I’m sorry. Why didn’t I insist on driving? I could have let you stay the night… I could have- Shit.”

Someone saw…? Toshinori’s ears drooped and his tail curled around his bent legs. This could have been prevented? He shook his head, No. Naomasa… He -

“Naomasa,” Toshinori took a deep breath, “What happened… happened. It’s not - It’s not your fault at all. All for One would have found a way to capture me.”

Running his fingers through his hair, a truly horrifying thought struck him, “I’m glad you didn’t drive me home. He already killed Hibiki to get to me… I could never forgive myself, Naomasa, if you…” Toshinori let out a trembling breath, “No, let’s not dwell on what-ifs.”

“Ah…” Air whooshed into the receiver as Naomasa sighed, “The empath was right. Shouldn’t have held that in. We’re… We’re a real mess.”

Toshinori chuckled weakly, “You can say that again.” He paused, “How long has this been bothering you?”

“Everyday,” was Naomasa’s quiet answer. “I’m so sorry, Toshinori. I feel like I could have prevented this somehow.”

“Shit, Nao,” Toshinori gripped his phone tighter. “I’m sorry.”

Naomasa barked an incredulous laugh, startling Toshinori.

“Don’t apologize,” he said, “Don’t ever apologize for this.”

“Easier said than done,” Toshinori admitted, “But you said empath? Who’s that? Sansa hasn’t gotten a new quirk has he?”

“No,” Naomasa snorted, “Nothing like that. That team I told you about, they have an empath. I think I made quite the impression - on him at least.”

A smile twitched on Toshinori’s face, “I’m sure. What are they like? It’s not like Tsuragamae to approve just anyone to help with this sort of case.”

Naomasa hummed, “They’re definitely not law enforcement. More like… private investigators. They - Ah, their leader seems to care more about evidence than people. He ticks me off a bit, but his peers - five others - seem to make up for whatever he lacks, so there’s that.”

“Sounds like you have your hands full,” Toshinori grinned cheekily and chuckled when Naomasa groaned.  

“You have no idea. Want to switch and let me be the teacher?”

Toshinori barked out a laugh, “Sorry, can’t help you there. If Friday night is anything to go by, I think my kids would miss me too much. They threw a welcome back party.”

Naomasa whistled, “Look at you! You must be doing something right. I won’t intrude then.”

There was a pause.

Toshinori closed his eyes, his smile fading, Here it comes.

“So,” Naomasa continued, “I’m here, coffee’s done, and I’m all ears. What’s bothering you, Toshinori?”

Suddenly, Toshinori didn’t know where to begin. Shame and disgust churned in his chest, and his ears drooped.  

“Toshi?” Naomasa’s voice was quiet, “Are you still there?”

“Yes…” Toshinori sighed, “I lost more time, and I... I hurt Midoriya…”

Naomasa’s breath hissed between his teeth.

“Recovery Girl treated him, and he’s sleeping it off,” Toshinori bowed his head, “But… the worst part - God I feel sick - the worst part is… I can’t even remember what happen. I wasn’t… it wasn’t… me.”

Toshinori huffed, hot breaths warming his face. He clamped his eyes shut, gritting his teeth - struggling to hold onto the faint memories, flashes of images.

“Shit,” Naomasa said, voice hushed.

“Yeah,” Toshinori let out a pained laugh, “I- I don’t know what to do. I’m still losing time in my sleep - that’s when it happened… Nightmare, supposedly. I don’t,” he groaned pressing his hand to his forehead, fighting off the tendrils of fog snaking through his mind, “The boy came to check on me while I wasn’t myself… And I bit him, Naomasa. Like a goddamn animal. I bit him!”

Toshinori’s tail curled in close, and he shoved it away. It thrashed on the sheets with his anger, blond tuft slicing through the air. He panted, throat burning.

“Toshinori, listen to me,” Naomasa said, “None of this is your fault. You aren’t an animal. You’re you -”

“Not like that… Not like that, Naomasa. You haven’t seen...” Toshinori sighed, frowning,  “I would never hurt the kids. You know that - everyone knows that. But it happened, and I wasn’t in control. I can’t let that happen again. But… Where to begin?”

Toshinori’s breaths shook, and his tongue felt coated with the taste of bile and rust. His heart fluttered in his ribcage, and his claws twitched against his scalp.

“I’m not -” his breath caught in his throat, “I’m not his weapon. I’m supposed to protect them, goddamn it. I can’t let him win, but I feel like I’m losing my mind, Naomasa. How do I protect them from m-” The fog crashed against his skull, and he couldn’t stop the gasp and low, warbling groan that rolled out of his chest.

It didn’t sound like him.

It didn’t sound human.

“Toshinori!” Naomasa paused, voice softening, “Toshi, breathe. It’s alright. It’ll be alright. You’re not alone. Myself, Recovery Girl, Principal Nedzu, and so many more… we’re all here with you. It’ll be alright.”

Toshinori took several deep breaths. The fog pressed once more at the back of his consciousness before fading - no, hiding away. He sighed heavily, shoulders sagging, “Okay.”

“Toshinori,” Naomasa’s voice was gentle, “When was the last time you went outside and really got some fresh air?”

Toshinori furrowed his brows. What?

“You’ve been through so much,” Naomasa continued, “Are you taking care of yourself?”

“I…” the hackles along Toshinori’s spine slowly relaxed. The last time he’d been outside he was walking back to the dorm. Before that… “It’s been a while. A long while.”

Naomasa huffed, “No wonder you’re so restless.”

“Restless?!” Toshinori sputtered and suppressed a cough, “I’d hardly call this restlessness, Naomasa.”

“What would you call it then?” Naomasa asked.

“I -!” Toshinori stopped, tail thumping against the bed and legs shuffling, itching to move, “Oh.”

“Oh?” Toshinori could almost hear Naomasa’s grin.

“Shut up,” Toshinori grumbled.  

Naomasa barked a laugh, “Sounds like you need to get some fresh air. You know, you always had trouble sleeping when you couldn’t get out and break a sweat.”

“It’s more than that,” Toshinori argued with a sigh, “This isn’t something I can work off.”

“I know,” Naomasa said, “But it’s certainly a start.”

“It’s a start,” Toshinori relented. He glanced over at the book lying on his on his desk. “Even the biggest idiots can become teachers too!” read the title. Written on the lower half of the cover was: Thought this Might help - Nao.

Toshinori chuckled and smiled softly, “I’ll talk with the kids first.”

“Good idea. Mm-!” Toshinori heard Naomasa swallow and set his coffee cup down, “Don’t forget to eat something. You are eating, right?”

Toshinori scoffed, “Yes, I’m eating. You know you’re getting to be a real mother hen in you old age.” He grinned as Naomasa sputtered.

“Younger than you, old man!”

“Thanks, Nao,” Toshinori laughed, genuinely smiling, “I really needed this. And… the phone works in reverse, if you ever need anything.”

“I’ve got your number,” Naomasa answered. The clang of a mug being set into a sink rang out from the phone, “Hey, I have to head out here pretty soon. Take care of yourself, Toshi. Talk to you soon.”

“Stay out of trouble, Nao,” Toshinori said, “Don’t let the international team drive you up a wall.”

Naomasa huffed, “No promises. Have a good day, alright?”

“You too,” Toshinori answered quietly. He tapped the End Call icon and let his hand drop to his side.

The sky was still dark. Toshinori looked outside the patio doors. Pushing himself up with a grunt, he wrapped his blanket around himself and opened the sliding glass door. A brisk wind swept past him, brushing against his skin and tugging at his clothes. His tail flicked at the sudden change in temperature. He paused and curled it under the blanket, grabbing the door when his balanced shifted with his tail.

Stepping onto the patio, Toshinori pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders and leaned against the railing. The campus was quiet. Slowly, his gaze drifted to where he knew the training fields and the faculty gym facilities were. He shifted on his feet, claws curling and scraping against the patio floor.

It would feel good to run.

He could feel it in his bones.

Toshinori shook his head, a small shiver running down his spine. Pulling his blanket tighter around himself, he turned back to his room.

Catching himself on the doorframe, he stumbled. Glancing down at his wobbling knees, he sighed and ran his hand along his mattress. Setting an alarm for mid-morning, Toshinori rolled onto the bed and settled under his covers.

Alright, let’s try this again…  

“Fuck! Fuck! My arm!” Mr. Compress shouted, biting into the leather belt in his teeth and bucking against the table.

“Hold him still!” Kurogiri ordered Twice’s clones holding down the magician’s legs and shoulders. He’s already lost too much blood.

“Dabi! Fucking cauterizing it already!” The clone at Compress’s shoulders exclaimed.

“Move Twice,” Dabi strode forward, hand igniting and pressing against the bleeding stump. The flesh hissed and smoked.  

A hoarse cry tore out of Compress’s throat before his eyes rolled back, and he slumped back against the table. Dabi’s fire flickered out, and he wiped his hand with one of the few towels left unstained.

Kurogiri pressed his fingers against the magician’s pulse, “Twice, bandage his arm and prepare him for transport.”

He turned to Shigaraki.

“He’ll live, but without medical treatment and rest he’ll be of no more use,” he said.

Shigaraki sulked against the wall of their hideaway, anger rolling off him in waves. Blood dotted raw lines scratched into his neck..

“Use…” he muttered, glaring daggers at the steaming wound. His lip curled into a snarl, “Restrict him to surveillance… And Kurogiri, ensure he doesn’t die.”

“A wise choice,” Kurogiri stated.

Shigaraki gaze snapped to meet with his, his displeasure obvious, “Don’t coddle me.”

Kurogiri said nothing.

He suffered a stinging loss, and his flaws were dragged into the open. That Overhaul and his followers... Shigaraki needs time to grow from this.

Kurogiri’s eyes narrowed, turning to their dwindling allies. His gaze fell on the young Miss Toga, who sat, squatting near the pool of Sako’s blood. One hand idly drew shapes in it with her blade, the other swept across the screen of the magician’s phone.

Kurogiri approached her, the sound of his footsteps echoing across the darkened room along with Sako’s stuttering breaths.

“Any particular reason you are on Mr. Compress’s phone?” he asked blandly.

“I’m texting myself the pictures he has of little Izuku,” she pouted, “Even though they’re all from so far away.”

The phone pinged and a text alert appeared.

“If I may,” Kurogiri held out his hand, nodding his thanks as Toga passed the phone over.

Oculus:

[The video you told me to track continues to cycle online. No news coverage beyond a passing mention. Not sure why it isn’t getting more attention if you say the noumu is supposed to cause an uproar.]

Kurogiri glanced at Sako, his shoulder twitching and wrapped in fresh bandages. Tapping the phone against his palm, he turned again and approached Shigaraki.  

“There may be a way to salvage the day and move forward,” he said, turning the phone toward Shigaraki, “There is still a piece you can move to collect.”

Shigaraki glanced at the phone, frowning at the message.

“The press is always so eager to find fault in U.A.” Shigaraki said slowly, a small smile peeked behind the hand on his face, “Perhaps they need to start asking the right questions...”

Sunday mornings were lazy in Heights Alliance. Students lay sprawled across the shared living room couches and chairs, relaxing and chatting. The television droned quietly with some cheesy action movie marathon Kaminari, Kirishima, Ashido, and Shouji were watching.

Izuku bent over his breakfast, mindlessly eating while shooting an occasional glance to the elevator.

All Might hasn’t come down yet…

His leg bounced under the table, nervous energy speeding through his veins. A sudden ache throbbed in his shoulder, and he rubbed at it, rolling his shoulder until it loosened again.

“How’s your shoulder?” Jirou asked quietly.

She sat across from him and beside Iida. Both barely touched their breakfasts and, instead, focused between Izuku and the elevator.

“It’s really fine,” Izuku said for perhaps the third time that morning, “Just nerves.”

Jirou nodded, subdued, and took a small bite of her fruit.

Izuku’s phone buzzed. He frowned, fishing it out of his pocket, and scrolled through the new alerts. Mount Lady was doing well, apprehending a group of robbers fleeing the scene of the crime. He snorted with amusement at the photo at the top of the article: Mount Lady holding up their getaway car while flashing a victory sign.

Izuku smiled as he scrolled through the morning’s news, the familiar action calming his nerves. Setting down his phone, he collected his dishes and took them to the sink, quickly washing and drying them to avoid clutter.

Izuku called out, “Iida, Jirou, want to hand me your dishes while I’m here?”

Iida jerked up, “Ah, that is not necessary, Midoriya. I’ve got it. Here - Jirou, if I may.”

As Iida rushed to the sink area, Izuku grinned up at him, “Fine, if you wash, I’ll dry. I feel like moving around.”

“I see,” Iida pushed up his glasses with his free hand, “Well in that case, thank you for your assistance.”

Making quick work of the few dishes left in the sink from earlier, Izuku shook out the dish towel and hung it up to dry, giving Iida a passing thanks as he returned to the table to pick up his phone.

Jirou looked up at the sound of laughter near the television, and she smiled softly. Giving Izuku a final once-over, she waved, muttering a quick, “Take care,” and sat with the others.

Rolling his shoulders and settling into a comfortable position, Izuku glanced at his phone and read through the comments on this morning’s heist, trying to get a better picture of the scene. Part of him still itched to be out and about, racing to see heroes in action and filling his notebooks with his observations. Making mental notes for later, he blinked as his phone pinged with a Breaking News alert.

Dread dropped like a cold stone in his chest.

A blurred photo of All Might dominated his small screen. Above it the crimson headline:

New Photograph Shows Viral Video Villain or Vigilante Entering U.A. Campus. Who Are They? Story Airing Now!

Izuku shot up, chair scraping harshly against the floor. He bolted into the living room, scrambling to grab the remote from the coffee table.

“Sorry Kirishima!” he blurted after his red-headed classmate yelped in surprise, and switched the channel.

“ -ank you for joining us at the top of the hour,” said the morning news anchor, “Breaking news update in Musutafu. Last week, we covered the viral video that spooked shoppers in the Rishi Ward. Thanks to an anonymous submission, we have the possible location of the mystery person.”

A photo flashed up on the screen.

“In this photo, we can see the mystery person entering - Yes, you’ve guessed it! U.A. The Hero Academy has been under scrutiny not only after the recent kidnapping of one of their first year students, but also due to the abrupt retirement of the one and only All Might. The photo of this person entering the U.A. campus does bring into question whether or not the U.A. Barrier Wall is as impenetrable as they claim. If the person is meant to be in U.A., it calls into question their frightening behaviour as shown in the video. We must warn you, some of the footage may be graphic.”

A white flash crossed the screen, the photo replaced by video.

Izuku flinched as screams rang out from the television.

Oh no… He’d seen this video - at least, part of it. It made its rounds across the IFF chatboards, stirring up all kinds of speculation and theory. Izuku had watched the first few seconds, but he couldn’t bring himself to watch it in full. All Might was recovering. That’s all Izuku had needed.

A flash of red and blonde darted across the screen, weaving low between scattering pedestrians. Then the crowd separated, and Izuku’s gut clenched in horror.

“Is that All M- ?” Izuku heard Uraraka but she was cut off.

“What is that thing?!” shrieked a woman on screen.

Chains rattled loudly from the speakers as All Might disappeared into the crowd again on all fours. The camera followed, pushing through the crowds. Then the person recording fell.

A shudder ran down Izuku’s spine.

All Might stood in the video, shoulders hunched under the weight of Nurse Isamu and face partially hidden behind disheveled, bloodstained bangs. Ragged breaths puffed in front of his face. His eyes - glowing pinpricks of blue - darted over the crowd, a look of desperation and fear straining his visible features.

Blood trailed down his bare skin. Chains swung and dragged against the pavement as All Might shifted his weight on shaking legs. His chest heaved with his wheezing pants, ribs standing out against his skin. His puckered scar was visible only a moment before the camera attempted to zoom in on his face.  

All Might’s tail slammed against the ground, a sharp crack! against the pavement, and the crowd scattered in a panic. The audio faded as the anchors spoke over the video, but Izuku wasn’t listening. He could only watch as All Might dropped back down on all fours and bolted, gait uneven, through the crowd and disappeared.

Tears streamed down Izuku’s face, and he turned the television off. The dark screen duly reflected the shocked and horrified expressions of Izuku’s classmates -

And All Might standing behind them.

Izuku spun, wide-eyed, and blurted, “I’m sorry!”

He wasn’t sure what he was sorry for.

All Might’s uncertain gaze slowly drifted from the screen, across the faces of his students, to Izuku. He smiled, rubbing at his wrists and the fading marks there, “Whatever for, my boy?”

Izuku didn’t have an answer.

“All Might?” Uraraka hesitantly stood, unshed tears in her eyes, “Are you really okay?”

All Might’s tail and ears drooped despite his forced smile, “I’m better now.”

“But you weren’t -” Satou paused, brows furrowed and lips pursed in a frown.

“Those… those were chains,” Mineta stared at the ground, fists trembling in his lap.

“Shackles…” Ashido whispered, tears running down her cheeks. “Those are what made those marks on your wrists - your ankles? You were chained?”  

“What happened to you, All Might-sensei?” Yaoyorozu asked cautiously. “Do you… Do you need or-or want to talk about it?”

All eyes were on their teacher.

“It’s…” He sighed deeply, exhaustion settling heavily on his bent shoulders, “It’s a long and unpleasant story.”

“You aren’t alone.”

All Might’s gaze met Izuku’s, and the boy jolted.

“W-what I mean to say is,” he fumbled, “You don’t have to carry it by yourself. We’re here… for you. So…” Izuku struggled to find the words, falling back on All Might’s own, “It’s alright now.”  

A small smile tugged at the corner of All Might’s mouth.

“I’ll make some tea,” Jirou said, standing and making her way into the kitchen.

A hand brushed against All Might’s arm, and he glanced down. Asui stood beside him and gave his arm a gentle tug toward the couch. She led him around as the rest of the students cleared the way, leaving All Might an open space in the center of the couch.

“Whatever you feel like sharing is good,” she said, plopping herself down beside All Might, “You can stop whenever you want.”

Izuku recognized the weary bend of All Might’s shoulders, the way he moved unevenly in discomfort as he sat, and the faded bruises along his tail.

All Might intertwined his fingers in what Izuku realized long ago was a nervous tell, “What questions do you have?”  

“Who did this to you?” Young Tokoroki asked, piercing gaze fixed on Toshinori.

Toshinori opened his mouth to reply, but Bakugou cut in with a snarl, “Who do you think? We all know about his escape from Tartarus.”

Several students sat back and paled, looking at Toshinori for confirmation. Resting his hands together in his lap, he nodded, “Correct.”

Hearing a faint hiss, Toshinori looked up and saw Bakugou shove his smoking hands in his pockets and lean against the wall - glowering.

Toshinori continued, “All for One. That villain and I have a long history, and I’m afraid he struck while I was unprepared - still gathering information on his escape.”

“Now that I think about it,” Uraraka chimed in, “A month. His escape happened a month ago, and you also…”

Toshinori nodded, “Yes, I was taken the very same day.”

Young Yaoyorozu spoke up, “The only news we heard was that heroes and the police were looking for you, but,” she glanced at the television, “What was that video…?”

“Chains…” Someone whispered.

Toshinori hummed, tracing the spikes on his neck sheepishly, “That was the unfortunate product of my escape. Naturally I was in a rush. I never meant to frighten anyone, but as you saw in the video I was carrying someone who desperately needed medical attention.”

“Who were they?” Kaminari asked.

“A young man who helped me,” Toshinori explained briefly, “Without him, I wouldn’t be here today.”

“Wait,” Hagakure jolted, shoulders tensing, “Escape? The police didn’t… No one found you?”

Toshinori sighed at the wave of horror that swept across his students’ faces. Izuku held his phone in a white-knuckled grip, and Toshinori shook his head.

“Hey, hey, hey! None of these sullen faces,” Toshinori grinned wide despite his exhaustion, “I’m here… and I’m fine. It’s over. So please, no more of these sad faces, alright?”

Tail flicking  uncertainly, he gauged their reactions. Some shot him half-hearted smiles, while others remained pensive. Jirou took that moment to return with the kettle.

She awkwardly placed the kettle and disposable cups on the table in the center of the room, “Tea’s done.”

Iida stood, glancing briefly at Izuku, and turned sharply towards Toshinori, “While I do not mean to contradict you Sensei,” Toshinori winced, but Iida continued, “I feel it is my responsibility as Class President to address this. Your behavior last night was rather alarming to say the least.”

Concerned whispers reached Toshinori’s ears.

“Last night?”

“What happened?”

“Right you are, Iida. That’s the reason I came down here in the first place,” Toshinori offered a wan smile, “First, I’d like to apologize to you, Jirou, and Midoriya for my actions. I’m sure you’re all curious, but I think it would be best if I started from the beginning.”

He looked around, but his students made no moves to interrupt. He took a steadying breath.

“While you all were scattered during the USJ incident, several of you saw my fight with the creature Shigaraki dubbed, ‘Noumu.’ Young Todoroki, offhand, what do you remember about the Noumu?”

The red-and-white haired boy hummed and answered briefly, “Apart from the gruesome physical appearance, the strength and speed of the Noumu were unmatched by any of the other villains there. Most notable were its high-speed regeneration and shock absorption, which made counterattacks all but impossible if you had not been there.”

“Good. You’ve touched on the key points,” Toshinori held up four fingers and counted off each one, “Strength. Speed. Shock Absorption. Super Regeneration. At least four known quirks forcibly combined in one ‘Artificial Human,’ to use the term spoken by Shigaraki. Where the Villain Alliance has struck, Noumu have followed. USJ. Hosu. Your training camp. Kamino. Looking past Shigaraki, these multi-quirk beings all lead back to one person.”

His students shifted uncomfortably. Toshinori could see them connecting the dots. Looking over his changed appearance, their gaze shifted from the tips of his ears to the tuft on his tail.

Izuku spoke up softly, “All for One.”

“Yes, the true creator of the Noumu, and Shigaraki’s Sensei. And that accounts for,” He gestured to himself, “All of this.”

His students erupted, concerned shouts blending together and filling the air.

“No!”

“But you’re not-!”

“You’re nothing like those-!”

“Is that what you-?”

“-at really happened?”

Toshinori held up his palms, shushing the kids, “Alright, alright. I will answer all of your questions. But first, ground rules. I must address an unfortunate side effect of my condition. There are moments when I’m not... ” He tapped his temple, “When I’m not all there. Think of it as mental strain from all of the quirks forced on me. I have these lapses where I act as though I’m sleepwalking. I’ve been told it’s not dangerous, but I’ve already injured someone, no - two people during these lapses. If you see me sleepwalking, please, just…” his ears drooped but he forced a smile,  “Stay away and contact another teacher - Aizawa would be best. They end on their own, no need to worry too much, but that is what I have to deal with now. I’d appreciate your cooperation.”

Stunned faces looked up at him.

“I suppose that was a lot to spring on you all,” Toshinori rubbed his hands together, capped claws clicking softly against each other, “But it needed to be said.”

“How did… Did it hurt?” Shouji asked, subdued and hunched where he sat on the floor. Each of his arms ended in clenched fists.

Ojiro rubbed at his own tail, “Your… how long did the new quirks take to come in? You were gone less than a month, but mine took three months to grow when I was small… I can’t imagine…”

Ah, Toshinori thought, grimacing, these kids would know. Growing pains.

So he told them. About the hospital, the nurses, All for One’s intended goal. About his attempts to figure out his location and break free. About the nurse who had been in the wrong place at the wrong time, whose bravery grew every day… Whose spikes he now carried on his back.

“I wasn’t always on the receiving end though,” Toshinori grinned and ran a hand along his tail, “He wanted a weapon, but wasn’t prepared to deal with one he couldn’t control. He stepped a little too close and-” Toshinori thumped his tail against the couch, “Smash! Right into that smug bastard’s mask. Ha! These legs and eyes of mine were almost worth it! He made sure to stay back after that one.”

A few grins lit up his students’ faces, but Todoroki frowned, “Eyes? What’s wrong with your eyes?”

“Ah,” Toshinori paused, pain shooting through his head at the memory.

“Nightvision,” he said, tapping just below his eye, “Changed something in my retina. It’s actually pretty handy - once I got used it.”  

White room. Bright light. Forced to live in darkness until I adjusted.

Kirishima whistled, “How many quirks do you have now?”

“As far as I know,” Toshinori double-checked, counting on his fingers, “Seven.”

He looked up at the sound a soft choking gasp. Bakugou looked down, hair hiding his expression.

Toshinori furrowed his brows, looking away to avoid drawing attention to the boy, I need to speak with him… But for now-

“Thankfully, I got out before any more.” Toshinori grinned and flexed his bicep, “I can handle this much, don’t you worry,” but then he shrugged, “I just have to make some adjustments to my routine now.”

Tokoyami, who had remained silent, spoke up, “I have a question.”

Toshinori nodded at the boy, “Go on.”

“You said the spikes came from that nurse, but who did your other quirks come from?”

Toshinori blinked, “I…” He frowned thoughtfully, “That’s a good question. I don’t know.”

Looking around at his students, he smiled softly, “Are there any more questions? No? Alright, well I missed breakfast, and frankly, I’m starving,” His grin widened, “Would anyone else like to join me in fixing something up?”

He laughed as hands shot up at the prospect of food, “I think I’m in the mood for something spicy. Who wants curry?”

More Lovely Art by @juustozzi Thank you <3 <3 

@ibev drew more lovely Toshinoumu and Isamu!! Posted here with permission. Thank you! :) 

Amazing as always!!! Thank you so much you two!! :3c <3 <3 <3 

Canvas 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6

Catalyst 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6

Control 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7

Collapse 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8

Contained 1 / 2 (WIP)

Find the whole series on Archive with fanart at the end of each chapter HERE!