First Day! Pleasant Cooperation in Shiketsu Academia! (+Jade’s Relationship Chart)

Good Morning, Kyoto!

Mouth stretching wide in a yawn, Jade steps out into the cool morning air. She’s wearing a set of gym clothes, with her usual teachers’ uniform and her lunch in a bag hanging from her shoulder. The door jingles as it closes behind her- the candle and incense store she’d been renting an upstairs room from. Ears swiveling around, Jade takes in the timing of the bells’ sound bouncing back from the nearby terrain. Clicking her tongue, she reads it again, then replicates the click on repeat. Each time they come back, she uses two off her vibe memories to track the changes, giving her a three-dimensional sense of the world around her.

It’s only a light morning jog to Shiketsu Academy. Traversing the dark early-morning streets with as much ease and comfort as if it were the middle of the day, she arrives with plenty of time to get ready for her big first day. Using her staff key, she lets herself in.

The Shiketsu art room is highly moddable, it turns out! Jade is pretty happy about that. There are tables that can be moved out or pushed aside to the edges of the room when they’re needed for different projects. She was worried it would be like a science room with those stationary desks that are always sort of uncomfortably spaced and can’t be moved? That would be awful when doing any kind of dance lesson. Oh well, no worries anymore!

No desk of her own, so Jade colonizes one of the ones pushed into the corner to lay out her plans and notes, including a huge folder containing the student psych profiles the school psychiatrist had provided. Not that it had been much help listening to the whole thing with her reader, that guy’s notes were just full of negative bias. Not so much as a strength highlighted or a plan for the struggling students. Smoothing out the ruff around her neck, she sighs. Hopefully she hasn’t underestimated how difficult these kids would be.

Checking the class schedule, she sees that Class 2-D is coming in for second period today. She breaks out the easels from the supply closet, arranging them according to the class’ standard seating arrangement. She trusts Rose-san knows what she’s doing by now! Making sure it’s all ready to go as soon as she pops back in, Jade heads to the staff room to change into her uniform, then the office to get some work done.

The Office: First Impressions! The Hero Principal, Karaburan!

Much to Jade’s surprise, someone is already there. Through the open door of the principal’s office, Jade can detect the features of a woman hunched over her desk, hair tucked behind her ears. It looks like she could really use an extra hand to lean her head on- oh, oh no, that’s a horrible thing to think!

The woman’s face turns up as soon as she hears Jade’s echolocation clicks, really fast reaction time! “Heey! Good morning, Nishima-sama!” shrugging her bag down beside the extra desk that’s been set up for her by the secretary’s, Jade steps into the doorway. After a quick bow, she waves. “I’m surprised you got here before me! Haha, here I wanted to make a good first impression by making it here first.”

“Lot of work to do,” the principal suppresses a yawn, pushing out of her chair to return a greeting bow. How long has she been here? That’s some real work ethic. Or really terrible work-life balance. Karaburan’s reputation precedes her, as a principal at least. She hasn’t been active on the Hero scene for a long time. Jade can understand wanting to cool it after taking a real bad injury, but she’s just working herself to death in a different lane. Take a vacation, lady.

Maybe that’s selfish to think. She’s probably just worried about leaving these kids unattended.

Dropping back into her chair, Anzu points her pen at the vice principal’s desk. “I apologize for not having a personal office for you. The funding is just not there,” exhaustion is evident in her voice, however she might try to hide it now behind straight posture. The way her heart beats is like an old car trying to chug along in the winter. Any more all-nighters and she could have some serious heart problems, but- her doctors must have told her as much? Jade bites back the urge to butt in. They don’t really know each other yet. “I’ve already set out the work I’d like you to help with. Don’t worry about getting it all done today, it’ll probably take all week.”

Sliding into her own office chair, which looks like it was pulled out of a dog’s mouth, Jade shuffles the stack of papers. Oh boy, that’s thick. Bringing out her work laptop, Jade cracks it open to get underway. With a screen reader, even she would be able to make a dent in the digital paperwork pile.

2nd Period. Upstart Class: 2-D!

Standing beside the door, Jade greets each of the students as they come in. “Good morning! Good morning! Good morning!” a chorus repeated over and over, with perfectly identical tone and pitch. Like her usual clicking, it allows her to subtly take stock of each student’s shape as they come, relating it to the notes she received. “Everyone please go to your usual assigned seating, beside one of the easels!”

Once everyone has arrived, Jade takes her place at the front of the room, by an easel that already has a canvas set on it. “Hello, everyone! My name is Ms. Makura or Makura-sensei, but you can call me by my Hero name if you like. Flickfang! I just moved here recently and look forward to pleasant cooperation with you! Before we start, I would like to take a moment for each student to introduce themselves. So I can get to know your names better!”

The usual rigmarole goes by, pointing to each student in turn.

After introductions, one student raises their hand. Holding up a finger, Jade does her best to recall his name. “Ah, Deckard! Did you have a question?”

“Are you really blind?” the rumors must have been making the rounds already. Jade reaches up and takes off her dark glasses, setting them on her makeshift desk. Beneath the, her eyes are very small, beady and black.

“Legally blind, yes. I can see some colors and shapes, but mostly I use,” leaning to the side, Jade holds up her finger and clicks with her tongue. “Echolocation! I have a really good head for how sound bounces off of things. I understand your confusion of how I will teach you to paint like this. Allow me to demonstrate!” It’s not like Jade didn’t see the question coming. If anything, she loves showing off.

Taking an array of inks and lining them up on the bottom of the easel, Jade takes up a brush. “Today you will be learning how to do sumi-e style ink painting. You know, this ink painting originates in China where I was born. But Japanese artists gave it their own cultural spin. The essence of sumi-e is the ability to use negative space to help express the spirit of what you paint. What you choose not to paint says as much as what you do!” Proceeding with her demonstration, Jade maps and plans out her strokes long in advance. It is a personal painting she often recreates for her art lessons, one she is very familiar with. The curve of a mountain valley, leading down into the stark white ripples of a river. Her hand is steady, and she can tell the subtle thicknesses of the brushstrokes from the way the sound bounces off of the painted and unpainted sections of canvas.

Holding up her hand for a moment, Jade taps her fingers against the brush demonstratively. “Pay attention to my fingers. This is the correct way to hold the brush and will make your control much better.”

“This is the Yellow River. In traditional Chinese ink painting, we most often use only black and allow the white negative space to express itself for the rest of the imagery. However, red and yellow inks are sometimes also popular in the art style. I am opting not to use yellow for the river today,” she explains as she puts the finishing touches on her work. It’s only the area immediately around the river along the center off the canvas. Doing a full painting would take too much class time.

Stepping to the side to allow the painting to be seen better, she invites the students to come up and take a closer look, a pleased smile on her face at those who give it an amazed expression. “When you are ready to begin, you can collect your brushes and inks in the cabinet there, and there is a stack of ready canvases here in the bottom shelf of the closet. Do not be afraid to ask for help!”

Atsushi Orochi

The first disruption to class is someone dragging a desk out from the side of the room, and putting their easel away. Jade’s wears swivel and flinch towards the harsh sound. One of the girls in the class, Atsushi Orochi. Wriggling serpents fan out behind her, one resting on her shoulder and the other two peering around the room. To Jade’s eyes, it’s all a big red blob. The Atsushi family is one of the most prominent in Japan. Over in China, they’re considered one of the ‘Big Three Dragons’ of Japan. It is no surprise that in both countries, dragon-themed heroes have a great deal of popularity and old-world mysticism around them. Doesn’t take a psych profile to see the massive social and familial pressure Orochi must be under.

Softly walking over, Jade holds her hands behind her back. “Atsushi-kun?” she asks, hoping for an explanation.

“I can’t use ink, sensei,” the girl jerks a thumb over her right shoulder. “This lil’ bastard has a taste for it.” The bright red splotch where the shape of the serpent is looks up at Jade. They’re kind of cute little things, honestly. She’d scratch them under the chin if she wasn’t worried about getting a venomous nip.

“Oh!” ears perked up and standing straight up, Jade wonders if this was in the file somewhere and she missed it. “That’s perfectly fine! We can find something else for you to use instead! How about colored pencils?”

“That was my thought, yeah,” Orochi trails behind her to the art cabinet. Feeling the motions of the ‘little bastard’ eying her and wriggling in the air, Jade wonders just how much goes on behind those reptilian eyes. They find a suitable piece of paper and Orochi picks up black, red, and white pencils. Helpful little names for each color are carved tangibly right into them, making them easier to pick out of the basket at just a click.

“Oh, you won’t need the white ones, the paper is white,” Jade tells her.

Looking down at the pencil, Orochi turns it over in her hands. “Might use it for something. Can I still take it?”

Tilting her head to the side, Jade flicks an ear. “Sure. I’m interested to see what you do!”

After doing some rounds through the room, Jade eventually gravitates back to Orochi’s table. Black and red have been blended together across a starkly eerie sky- if there are any smaller details, it’s beyond Jade’s eyes to tell. Beneath them a barren white desert. Sensing the textural profile of colored pencil is a lot more difficult than with paint, unless there are clearly indented outlines. So Jade holds out her hand. “May I touch it?” Orochi shrugs her permission. “Does it mean anything?” she makes conversation while she draws her fingers softly over the paper.

“Not really. I don’t really think so,” stuffing her fingers into her uniform pockets, Orochi and her shoulder serpent watch Jade’s inspection idly. There’s something about her posture that strikes Jade as more than just a delinquent’s slump. Given everything that’s been coming out of the news in Kyoto, Jade wouldn’t be surprised if she’s down in the dumps over something. Or a lot of somethings.

It wasn’t obvious at first, but between the echoed texture and her fingers, Jade can sense a texture to the picture. Harder pencil strokes that seemed random and incidental at first have a broader picture to them. They feel a bit like the edges of scales, running across the length of the horizon picture. “Oh, I see why you wanted to use the white pencils now. The white parts have the scale texture too.”

“Scale texture?” furrowing her brow, Orochi reaches out to touch the drawing as well. “Huh.” There’s a troubled introspection in her eyes, which she brushes off with a change of topic, “So what’s your painting represent, anyways?”

“Well, the Yellow River is a really big cultural touchstone of China. It’s kind of like the historical heart of the country,” leaning back, Jade looks out the windows. “But it’s got a lot of dark history too.” Sensing the Lil’ Bastard trying to pick up one of Orochi’s pencils in its mouth while they’re distracted, Jade snaps her fingers. “Cut it out.” It looks up at her, and Orochi takes the pencil from its mouth.

“Like what?” the girl asks, carrying on as if nothing happened.

“Well, it’s very prone to flooding, and those waters have brought a lot of destruction in the long, long life of the valley,” the teacher explains somberly. “My demonstration painting is always left unfinished. I feel like it sort of represents the mercurial and changing nature of the river.”

“I see,” the answer is distant and neutral. “Why did you decide to move here?”

Sensing what’s going on, Jade holds up a hand. “I know you must have a lot of questions, but do you have any questions about the project?” Orochi looks away and shakes her head. “Feel free to find me at lunch or after school if you want to chat! I’m always available then! But right now I have to make sure everyone else is doing okay,” reaching down, Jade pats the paper. “I think there’s more to this drawing to reflect on than you think, Atsushi-kun. If you’re finished, remember to put your name on the back and hand it in. Then you can free draw until end of period.”

“Alright…”

It's clear that the girl is reaching out for a lifeline. Her heart is hurting, just not in the physical way, and one of the serpents trails a look after Jade while she leaves to attend to other students. Jade hopes Orochi really will come to her later to talk. It pains Jade to leave the things that need to be said unsaid for now, but there is a time and a place for everything.

Christopher Cain

During her rounds of the room, Jade comes up behind one of the students near the front of the room. Blinking her eyes, she squints at his painting while the metronome clicking from her ears splashes a topographical map of it across her mind’s eye. There’s a large, round central lump, with two in front laid in front of it and two perched at the top. Few details yet beyond an outline, but his brushstrokes are careful and his form is good. “Good form, Cain-kun,” she tells him. It’s always good to share a compliment with a student when you think of it.

“Oh,” looking over his shoulder, the boy scratches at the side of his neck. “Could you use Chris-kun instead?”

“Of course!” chipperly, she raises a finger to her own chin. “Is that a cat? A tiger maybe?”

“Huh?” lowering one eyebrow, Chris looks at the canvas.

“I see what looks like paws there,” she points at the bottom two hills. “And then ears on top of the head?”

Staring at the canvas, Chris clears his throat. “I was just trying to draw some hills,” he says, audibly trying not to sound like he’s accusing her of being- well, blind.

Cupping her mouth, Jade takes another look. “Okay, I see what’s happening,” she slips into a tone of stern, but gentle critique, “I can see you have a steady hand. Your brushstrokes are excellent. But,” With her finger, she traces the outlines of each hill, careful not to physically touch the still-drying ink. “They are so defined, they do not flow together like a natural landscape, and they are uniformly round and bump-shaped. Where the rear hills connect to the central hill here,” she traces its edges around and down, “Also looks like the hill gets smaller down to its base. Like two leaning towers poking from the sides.”

“Should I start over?” he asks, with the defeatist sigh of a student who was hoping to just get it over with. Jade’s head tilts from one side to the other, and his eyes look up, tracing the waving of her ears back and forth.

“Do you want to be an artist when you graduate?”

“I wouldn’t say it’s on the top of my priority list.”

It wouldn’t be for most hero students. Most regular students either. “Then, continue what you are doing now and try to correct what you can. The real reason for art class is to work on perspective-taking and fine motor skills,” she explains in a low, soft voice, flexing her fingers. “You are doing very good at fine motor here. You will get more practice with perspective when we learn about vanishing point drawing.” There’s understanding in the way he nods his head, but not much interest. Jade gets the impression that his thoughts are elsewhere.

“Alright,” Chris says as Jade steps away. Feeling movement that she’s been anticipating for the past few minutes, Jade’s arm flicks out to snatch a flying pencil out of the air between two fingers. Without looking over her shoulder, she tosses it back before Chris can even notice it was there. Orochi catches the implement and clears her throat in embarrassment from across the room. She be heard muttering chastising remarks to her little demon. By Jade, at least. Most others probably haven’t noticed.

While near the front of the room, she collects her glasses from the table, spinning them between her fingers.

Hifumi Takeda

Taking practiced steps between students and avoiding their moving elbows, Jade finds one boy whose phone is perched up against his canvas. A reference image is loaded up, as he works. Each line is impeccable, and the weight of each stroke is carefully measured to create a smooth flow. “Not just copying I hope?” she suggests warily, not yet familiar enough with the students to know who might try that.

“Nah, relax, sensei. It’s based on Miyamoto Musashi’s Shrike in a barren tree,” the boy explains, not breaking his concentration or taking his eyes off the canvas. Tracking a conversation as well as his hand and a reference, it’s an impressive display of focus and multi-tasking. Jade clicks her tongue and smiles in subtle approval. “I plan to have the shrike taking wing instead of sitting. Like a follow up, you know?”

“Is it representing anything?” Jade asks, genuinely curious. He seems to have thought out his plan in advance, and she wonders if there’s deeper meaning behind it.

“Not really. A bird taking wing and leaving home, I guess?” he answers non-committal. “I just think Musashi’s cool as all hell, so I wanted to do something based on his work.” Starting to lose focus on the painting as he gets more involved in their conversation, the boy- Hifumi Takeda, Jade pulls it off the tip of her tongue now- sets down his brush. “I’m a swordsman too, and the coolest swordsmen paint. To practice their coordination and flow. It’s all in the wrist, stuff like that. So I’ve tried it before.”

Wearing a big smile, Jade nods her head, ears bobbing forward. “That’s right. This class isn’t just about the art, it’s great for the students who really do want to learn how to do it like you, but it’s also good for practicing other skills!”

“So hey,” leaning his head closer with a delinquent hunch in his shoulders, Hifumi shoots a smirk Orochi’s way and nods his head towards her. “That was a pretty cool move with the pencil. I gotta fight eyes-shut sometimes cause of my Quirk, you got any tips?”

Setting her hands on her waist, Jade sticks her tongue in her cheek while she thinks. “To be honest, I was never much of an up-close fighter back in my day.” She throws back her head and holds a hand to her mouth as she laughs. “Back in my day, as if were some old broad. God, maybe I am getting old. What was I saying?”

“How you weren’t much of a fighter. You were a pro sidekick, right?” He’d probably heard the Korean girls whispering about it at some point. Jade had been warned how quickly the ‘goss’ makes its rounds in this school.

“That’s right. My Quirk helps me remember photographically how the sound comes back to me, and it makes me great for situational awareness and finding people during rescues,” she explains. “I have a natural advantage obviously, but echolocation is totally something you could learn!” Waving a hand, she interrupts herself, “I’m getting distracted. We should talk after school if you would like extra help, Hifumi-kun. I need to get back to watching over the class.”

“Cool,” leaning back, Hifumi holds up his fist. “And cut out the Hifumi-kun baby name stuff, call me Challenger or Hifumi,” he complains amicably. Jade chuckles and bumps her fist against his. “Catch you later, bat-sensei.”

“I’ll take it under consideration. Later,” Jade shoots back over her shoulder. She should probably be reprimanding him for being so informal, but honestly she prefers the approachability that comes with a friendly attitude instead of having a stick up her ass all day. That way the students know they can come to you when they need it. Those with a delinquent history open up way more emotionally to a laid-back teacher, and those are the students who need the most positive connection.

Takara Tame

Coming across a student with an interesting approach, Jade stands behind Takara Tame watching her work. Every few seconds, the girl turns her head to the side to check if Jade is still there. “Am I doing something wrong?” the girl asks, stopping her hand perfectly still. Tame’s voice is electronic, not quite sounding human. Not that Jade is one to judge, but it’s her first time seeing such an inorganic-looking heteromorphic Quirk.

“No, nothing wrong at all. The dot art approach is interesting, very pleasant, I like it,” Jade quickly corrects the assumption. “What gave you the idea?” It’s not very different to her eyes, just a big splotch of black, but from watching Tame’s movements and sensing the subtle rise of each dot above the canvas. She has been using stippling instead of traditional shading to create a sense of depth.

Looking down and away, Tame’s artificial voice remains very neutral despite her obvious embarrassment, “I spent a long time trying to think of something to paint. A flower felt so plain and uninspired. I wanted to make it stand out another way.”

“Well you did,” one arm crossing her chest, Jade sets her elbow on it and waves her hand. “Keep up the good work.” She takes a mental note that Tame will be the kind of student to struggle alone in silence if they feel stuck or overwhelmed.

Nyoro Hoge

Teeth clenched, eyes intense, focused entirely on the canvas. The girl tries not to react at all to Jade’s presence, but she can detect the increased heart rate and the tension in her shoulders. On the student’s easel is a very traditional and safe choice of subject matter- not that Jade discredits that. She just takes notice. In Hifumi she had seen someone willing to take tradition and build something new upon it. Here, she sees someone more likely to play by the book to a fault.

“You’re doing well.”

“Thank you, Makura-sensei.”

“Nyoro-kun,” keeping her voice soft, Jade suggests, “Maybe try relaxing?”

“Can’t relax. I’m trying to get this right.”

Creasing her brow, Jade takes a step back and does a walk around the room.

Later on the lesson, she finds Hoge biting her lip and glaring at the canvas. She’s made incredibly fast progress compared to her classmates for the ambitious amount of fill and shading in her painting, but with a defeated sigh she takes the canvas off of the easel and drops it in the garbage can. Jade frowns. “It was going well, why throw it away?” she asks while Hoge grabs another, fresh easel from the closer.

“I messed up the reflection, too flat,” the girl replies matter-of-factly. “Need to start over.”

Jade glances at the clock and knows full well there’s not enough time for a whole new painting. “Remember that too narrow of a focus can also be a disadvantage, Nyoro-kun.” With that bit of advice, Jade doesn’t have much else to say, and moves on. The girl’s technique and practice are beyond simple critique, the only improvement can come from inside herself now.

Sally McCathy

This student bites her lip, the grip on her brush sloppy. On her canvas, a rough, sharp image of birds in flight has played out. It has a certain aesthetic appeal, if the technique were refined. Probably not the greatest of omens as a glimpse into the student’s psyche, however. Sally McCathy, hair done up in a ponytail to keep the ink out. Coming up alongside her, Jade raises a hand beside the girl’s. “May I?”

Looking up, the girl glances between the teacher’s hand and her own. “Am I holding it wrong?” Curling her lip in disapproval, she nonetheless nods and lets her teacher adjust her grip. “If you have to.” Having someone taking the brush and adjusting it in her hand is understandably awkward. “The calligraphy and brushwork is new to me still,” Sally excuses herself. “Don’t know when it will ever actually be…” but somewhere between he words starting in her brain and reaching her mouth, she must realize it’s useful for writing legible Japanese. “… Combat applicable.”

“Being new is nothing to be ashamed of. American, yes?” Jade had read the file, but even if she hadn’t, she could have figured it out by the accent.

“Do you speak any English?” the girl asks, hopefully.

“Less than your Japanese,” Jade answers in Englesh. She shrugs and adds in Japanese, “Probably. I am still becoming more comfortable in the language also.”

After Jade takes her hand away, the student resumes painting, stubbornly pecking her brush at the page and carving out jagged-edged birds as if she had a vengeance against the canvas and was wielding a knife. She might find it more satisfying to use a painting knife, but Jade isn’t ready to accept that level of liability yet.

Blowing some hair out of her face, Sally asks in a sour voice, “Could you not have shown me how to hold a brush instead of moving my fingers?” When Jade holds up her own hand, with three fingers and a thumb the girl sighs. “Right. Oops.”

“The pinky is not a great loss, I think. Only the smallest finger. Sorry if it was embarrassing, but it was just fastest.” Folding her hands back behind her, Jade shuffles away to give the girl some space.

Inigo Myoga

Not all of the Big Three Dragons has a stellar reputation. For the daughter of a renowned dragon-Hero clan and an infamous dragon-Yakuza clan to be in the same classroom is a very volatile political situation. Jade hates politics. Who is she kidding? Everyone hates politics, except the very worst politicians. Inigo Myoga has been very vocally against the No Dating Policy, Jade hears.

Small wonder why. As she has patrolled the room, the has been counting the amount of time his head is facing his canvas against the amount his head is facing Nyoro Hoge and the difference is staggering. The very definition of bias. While he shirks his work, a little green dragon flapping its tiny wings swims through the air, painting the ink for him.

“The idea is to practice your coordination,” Jade critiques, stepping up next to him. She angles her ears towards the canvas, a small click scanning it and finding it eerily similar to another student’s. “And your creativity.”

“Well,” Inigo brushes his hair back, “Gigan here is a part of me, right? So I’m still practicing my coordination. In fact, I’m practicing my multitasking skills by letting him do it without my supervision. I’m practically an overachiever!” Achievements in ignorance, maybe.

“Right now ‘Gigan’ seems to be copying his classmate’s homework.”

Blinking and leaning over, Inigo looks between ‘his’ canvas and Sally’s. The same jagged birds adorn each. “Well, I’m not finished yet. Worry not, Makura-sensei! It will be my own interpretation!” Rolling her eyes, Jade decides to give him a second chance. She moves on after he picks up a brush and starts actually getting to work.

Several minutes later, all of Inigo’s jagged birds have been dressed up with curious accessories and items that offer their own little personalities. A reflection of people he knows, Jade expects. “Better, but your brushwork could be improved. And,” she adds in a quieter, softer voice- mostly for Sally’s benefit. “Whatever part of you Gigan represents, you should consider why he chose to imitate such a bleak painting in the first place.”

“Hoo,” Inigo blows air out of his cheeks, making overexaggerated and feigned motions as he fans himself. “You play hardball, new sensei. Why don’t I go ahead and do some really good reflecting on these? First there’s this one with the tie, which clearly represents the plight of the Japanese salaryman, giving rise to the popular isekai manga genre-” The deflection in Inigo’s rambling is obvious.

“Mhm,” Jade says, letting her ears echo the sound. Its projection in the air beside Inigo repeats several times at regular intervals while she quietly slips away. He would be talking aloud to no-one for a minute at least. Smiling wryly to herself, she hopes he takes the joke well. It would be a shame if he couldn’t take what he dishes.

Deckard Thorpe

A fellow newbie to the dysfunctional Shiketsu family. Jade’s ears peek over Deckard’s shoulder, sensing little more progress on his painting. Thick brushstrokes, or rather the thick layered lines where he’s added far too much ink and soaked the canvas, make every detail easy to interpret. What spent most of the class as a crudely drawn cat’s face has expanded into a crudely drawn cat’s face on the body of a man in a blocky suit jacket and tie.

Rubbing his chin, Deckard glances at some of the other students’ canvases. As he’s looking around, he notices Jade standing behind him and smiles, face finally cracking out of the strange sour-candy pucker it had been squeezed into and which she feared it would be stuck in. “Hey, Ms. Makura. I think I did pretty good. How is it? Little more practice and I could become an artist?”

Never murder a student’s enthusiasm, Jade reminds herself. “Your linework is very crisp and clear. Your lines are straight and your curves do not falter and jitter,” she opens with a compliment. “But it does not quite fit the sumi-e style, and you have used much too much ink. This will take a great time to dry.” Fill it up with the ugly stuff in the middle. And finally, sandwich it with another compliment, “You could have a future as a digital webcomic artist.” It’s a generous assumption, but Jade has known artists whose skills have grown much through that kind of practice.

Deckard pumps his fist. “Yeah-hah. Thanks, Ms. Makura.”

Grading art is always a painful process, she laments as she moves on.

Chihiro Mitsurugi

Several times during the course of the lesson, Jade passes by the easel of Chihiro Mitsurugi. Several times, she has nothing to say. The girl’s grip on her brush is gentle and serene, not clutching it too hard, but also guiding it with care. As expected of a swordswoman. Every breath comes in and goes out easily, leaving Jade feeling vicariously calm whenever she passes by.

With soft curves and light touches, the image is a bit blurry even to Jade’s echolocation. There’s not a lot of topographical mapping for her to piece together what it is, so she resorts to taking a subtle picture over Chihiro’s shoulder and having her phone describe it to her as it nears completion. “A lakeside with trees and cute animals,” the barely-audible whisper of the electronic voice informs her. Low enough in volume that only she, or a similarly keen-sensed Quirk, could pick up.

With a smile, Jade moves on. There is nothing to correct, and this student is getting more out of the relaxing activity of painting than talking to her could provide.

Runt

Oh boy.

Hidden in the corner crouched next to a propped-up canvas, Jade comes upon her first real challenge case. The boy’s long ears are flopped down to either side of his head, and smeared with fingerprints of ink wherever he’s reached up to scratch them. His shirt hasn’t fared much better. A clump of potting soil from one of the leafy plants in the nurse’s office is being rolled back and forth in his mouth, adventurously seasoned with a dab of black ink that has now stained his lips, teeth and tongue.

Jade squats down in front of him, looking at him over the canvas. Beneath herself she can feel the upsidedown image of a finger-painted image, a crude representation of his face atop an upside-down ink handprint. The thumb ‘arm’ of his hand body has been extended up towards his mouth where he’s holding up what seems to be a large boulder and chewing on it. All of the lines are thick and oversaturated, to the point where it would have eaten through any lesser canvas by sheer volume.

More dribbling ink is all over the floor.

“Oh, Runt-kun, this is a mess,” holding her head in her hands, Jade looks down with dread at the disaster zone. It’s going to take forever to clean.

“I phrew me ea’ing ah ouller uy’s oullers,” Runt says matter-of-factly, words barely translatable through the soil clump in his mouth, and nonsensical even after Jade manages to piece together what he’d said.

“What… boulder guy, Runt?”

Jade’s ears shoot straight up and her beady eyes go wide when Runt pulls a handgun out of his coat. From the acoustics of it, definitely loaded. She’s gently extricating it from his hand as he swallows his mound of dirt. “Wǒ kào!” Taking the weapon in hand, Jade swiftly removes the magazine and ejects the loaded round.

“Saw the boulder man leaving these on street corners so I took one cause they were free,” Runt explains.

Standing up, Jade holds the magazine and now-empty handgun in either hand, staring at them in shock. “Ooh, I need to take these to Karaburan-sama! And clean up this mess… and get Runt to the nurse in case he swallowed toxic ink…”

Unbothered, Runt tells her, “It’s non-toxic.” In his voice is the absolute conviction of a young man who has put many things in his mouth that he should not. Still, Jade shakes her head emphatically, unable to take his word for it. He stands up and holds out his hands. “Can I have it back? It’s my gun that I found. I’ll go show the principal.”

“Absolutely not!”

Someone taps Jade on the shoulder and she refocuses, her ears swiveling around to take in the room again. A lot of eyes are looking their way. Christopher is standing behind her, his finger on her shoulder. “I can take him to the nurse and let Karaburan-sensei know.” When he holds out his hands, Jade is a little more inclined to trust him. “I’m already finished my work.”

Looking at the weapon, Jade knows she’s not giving a child both the bullets and the gun, and runs an internal cost-benefit analysis of whether it’s less safe to entrust him to take the firearm or the bullets to the principal. In the end, she decides that neither is probably the best choice. “I will speak to your Karaburan-sensei, after class. Take care of Runt at the nurse’s, please.“

Chris nods. “I’ll take care of it. Come on, Runt,” he helps the smaller boy climb out of the corner. Jade wonders why in the world that child doesn’t have a dedicated teacher’s assistant.

As she’s gathering paper towels to clean up the mess in the corner, Orochi grabs several sheets as well. “Here, let me give you a hand.”

“Me too,” with a smooth voice, Tame chips in.

Soon, nearly the entire class is trying to help, to the point where some need to be turned away or there won’t be room- the ones who are still very behind in their paintings, Jade decides. As one would expect from a bunch of Hero Students, few of them can ignore the signs of someone in need. And that’s the biggest sign for Jade that this class is something special. Without their help, she would not have enough time to go to the office and then get ready for the next class.

“Okay,” tossing the last ink-stained towel in the trash, “Thank you from the bottom of my heart for this great show of Shiketsu spirit. You are a wonderful class,” Jade bows, ears flopping forwards. “There are only a few minutes left. Everyone please finish and set your canvas on a side table to dry. I need to bring this to the office’s attention at once.”

The Office: A Gun with a Red Fingerprint!

Turning the weapon over in her hand, Karaburan looks at it with a severe glare. “If one of these found its way to one of our students, I have to wonder how many more have found one and kept it a closer secret,” she reasons out. “Have you noticed anything?”

“My ears were not that closely trained on their bags,” Jade shamefully admits, bowing her head. “I can take a careful listen from now on, Karaburan-sama.”

“Please do, and thank you for notifying me of this promptly. You said that Runt-kun saw a ‘boulder man’ leaving these in the street?” When Jade nods, Karaburan sets down the weapon and rubs her forehead. “Last year, there were a lot of videos going around on students’ phones of a man matching that description. He was in Africa causing massive amounts of property damage, shouting profanities at Japan.”

Tapping the side of her cheek, Jade thinks it over. “Was there those people who came from Africa recently? Could he have stowed away on their ships or planes?”

“Maybe,” there’s some skepticism in Karaburan’s voice.

“Keep an ear open around their Temple?”

“Please do, Flickfang... and use discretion.”

“Always do.” Making it too obvious she’s keeping an eye on them could get dicey, Japan has religious freedom, and the wrong move could be seen as supporting the protests demanding the Kwoolanists leave. After being dismissed, Jade speed-walks back through the halls, straining to make it to the next class period.

3rd Period: The Forgotten Misfits, Class 2-E!

Introductions had gone about as smoothly as with 2-D, but the second class seems pretty disengaged in comparison. Most of them have probably developed a sense of learned helplessness from their Mutant conditions bringing them down the social totem pole.

Jade is regretfully grateful for their apathetic patience, since she has some catch-up to do setting up the new canvases after time spent in the office with Karaburan. As she goes through her demonstration painting, she can feel several of them struggling to stay awake even while standing up, and others paying little attention while playing games or texting on their phones.

Then, an unholy screeching noise begins, reverberating through the room in a way that shudders the bones inside of their flesh prisons and makes eerie shapes warble on the edges of Jade’s vision. Eerily clear and comprehensible shapes, born of synesthetic imaginings. Slowly turning, Jade looks upon the cube-shaped entity floating behind one of the easels. A long, gangly Mutant with soft, wet-sounding surface looks away and shrugs, making a faux-innocent face. The slight spike in heart rate betrays that she’d simply been stirring things up for her amusement.

It got the rest of the class awake, at least.

Angling her ears towards the Cube, Jade replicates and feeds some of the soundwaves back in that direction. For a moment the entire room ripples with vibrational force, then the Cube abruptly shuts up and goes still. Jade isn’t really sure what she did, but it worked. She quietly tucks away that apocalyptic noise into a reserved slot in her sound-memory.

Higa Umeko

The culprit of the little cubical misadventure is lazily drawing some circles on the canvas at first. Jade stops by a few times to see if she makes any more progress. Though Umeko grows more and more sluggish and droopy as the class goes on, she does add some finer details to the circles, shading and shine to make them into bubbles.

Halfway through the period, Jade hears a crash as an easel falls over, and finds Umeko flopped on top of it. With some help from the angel-winged boy, Noah Abrams, Jade cleans up spilt ink for the second time today and moves Umeko to the side of the room. They’re both left covered in a layer of slime, and Jade dearly looks forward to a shower when she gets home. “Noah fears that Umeko-chan will suffer worse effects from continually ruining her sleep cycle,” the boy confides in Jade, and she has the realization why Umeko is so exhausted.

It had taken Jade a long time to get her body used to the unpredictable sleep-cycle she experiences. In her case, the bat in her isn’t giving her nocturnal instincts, but she ended up naturally assigned to a lot of night-time ops when she could ‘see’ well and a lot of others couldn’t. Becoming a night bat was a process.

“Hey, Umeko-kun,” she jostles the salamander girl awake, trying not to cringe away from the moist slime of her skin. “Meet me after school. I would like to have a talk with you.” It’s clearly not the first time this has happened, and there’s only a defeated sigh.

“Fine.”

“You’re not in trouble. I would like to help your sleep schedule be more cooperative for you,“ Jade nods as she stands. Umeko’s expression changes little, too overtired to be bothered with more than slumping back to sleep. With any luck, Jade could diagnose what that hack Ito had missed. This entire class- no, this entire school has probably had so many issues go under his radar. Why does Runt not have a dedicated teacher’s assistant? Why was Umeko’s sleep issue never diagnosed? Why in the world does Cube-chan have no personal Quirk therapist assigned?

With her fur ruff puffed up and her ears fuming, Jade goes to find yet more paper towel. They would go through an entire tree a day at this rate.

Lunch Time! Atsushi Orochi, Part 2!

Most often, the staff eat in the staff room. With so many students needing some one-to-one attention, though, Jade makes her way into the cafeteria at lunch time. It’s a high-end facility, staffed by a dedicated kitchen team, and the food on display honestly puts Jade’s little bento box to shame. Not that a convenience store bento is hard to put to shame. Jade decides to bring some money to spend there instead, tomorrow.

Students are milling about, going through the line to get food and drinks, or sitting at tables with their friends. The many sounds at once make it easier to pseudo-visualize the shape of the room and the changing dynamics of the crowd, and harder to make out fine details like clothes and faces. Finding Orochi is not difficult, though, even with Jade’s eyes. Just follow the splotch of red with wriggling pseudopods extending from it. The girl is standing with a lunch tray in hand, looking around the room, indecisive about where to sit. She glance sat Inigo and the boys’ table, then at where Hoge and Chihiro are sitting together. Social paralysis grips her, and she starts to turn away from both.

“Hey. Do you want to have that talk now?” making her approach, bento in hand, Jade smiles and waves. Orochi looks at Jade, then puts on a more neutral expression and nods her head. They find a table for themselves and take a seat.

“I wasn’t sure if you were just blowing me off,” Orochi sets down her tray, where steaming grilled salmon steak and delicious egg fried rice waft tempting smells into the air. With all the shame of a student opening up a sandwich their mother made them on a hot lunch day, Jade opens her bento. Oversalted noodles, crusty stale meat dumplings, and some obligatory pickled carrot sticks. One of the serpents slithers across the table to sniff at the sampling, but decides it doesn’t smell as appetizing as Orochi’s plate and turns away. Looking pitifully on the pre-packaged meal, Orochi picks up a piece of fish with her chopsticks. “Would you like some?”

“Oh, no, thank you,” with a casual laugh, Jade flips her hand through the air. “I only bought this because it was fast and I did not know the cafeteria. I don’t think I will bother next time, the food looks very good.” Plucking one of her dumplings, she samples it. The exterior is dry, the dough overcooked, but the meat inside is seasoned pretty well. Chewing with bat fangs is a long and annoying process, so she usually dissects them with a fork and knife to eat in the form of ground meat, but she’d forgotten to bring cutlery that morning. It wouldn’t be so bad if the fangs were able to suck the juices put of fruit or something.

“I don’t mind sharing,” Orochi extends another offer, but Jade shakes her head, mouth stull full and cheek bulged out.

“Unroffessinal,” she explains through the mouthful. Taking some chopsticks, she begins to poke and rip apart the remaining dumplings pre-emptively. Jade admits she’s not the most stuck-up teacher, but taking food from a student’s lunch is crossing a line somewhere. Jade remembers reading it in the policy book- about bribery, probably. Eventually she manages to swallow. “You had some questions? Sorry for not doing a big introduction like Mr. Tyler. I really wanted to show off my painting. Show that I can do it before the rumors start about blind bat-sensai.”

Picking at her own food with her chopsticks, Orochi rests her cheek on her other hand. “Why did you decide to move here? To Japan, but also here? I mean, the place is falling apart.”

Gathering some noodles between her own pair, Jade contemplates them. Always easier to eat than the tough stuff, but she has to be careful slurping it down so she doesn’t coke. “My father back in China was Japanese. He was an exchange student at a hero academy in China, where he met my mother. When he graduated he decided to stay there with her,” Jade provides the background first. "He passed away recently."

Uncertain of what to say, Orochi settles for a consoling, “I’m sorry.”

“Thank you. But that is why I came here,” with a sad smile, Jade twirls the noodles. “I never connected with his side of the family while he was alive. I want to get to know them better. And get to know Japan better.” Setting the wad of noodles in her mouth, Jade slurps them up and gums them down. Both of them take some time to eat their food, silence hanging in the air. It’s not as uncomfortable a silence as it could be.

“And,” Orochi sets her chopsticks down, flicking Lil’ Bastard on the nose when it tries to chew on them, “That family is here?”

“Rosethorn-sensei’s mother is my aunt,” Jade reveals cheerily, making Orochi’s eyes go wide. One of the snakes, resting on her shoulder, raises its head a little. “So we are cousins! Exciting?” She laughs to herself. “Honestly, Japan’s Hero scene is a breath of fresh air too.”

“Really? It feels anything but fresh to me,” with a grim look on her face, Orochi lets out a huff of air at her plate. Being stuck under the thumb of a powerful family must be a very different perspective. “Rosethorn-sensei has been great, but a lot of the popular Heroes have issues.”

“In China, the government is very involved in the Hero community,” Jade explains. “We are much more government agents than able to run our own businesses through sponsors and support, or go solo and self-fund ourselves. So we get very wrapped up in politics,” stretching her mouth out in a wide scowl, she adds cynically, “And corruption.”

“Plenty of that here, they just pretty it up more,” Orochi growls. “And when their shit-” catching herself cursing in front of her new teacher, Orochi stops and looks up, wide-eyed. Her left snake holds itself in front of her mouth, like an embarrassed hand, and she bats it away. “Sorry.”

Jade laughs. “It’s lunch break. Permission to speak freely.”

“… when their shit goes out of control, it’s us who have to clean it up,” the girl finishes.

“Some things are the same everywhere,” Jade commiserates.

Their conversation drifts away from the heavy subject matter, into some of their hobbies. It turns out the arcade Jade had been scoping out just down the street from Shiketsu is a popular student hang out, and some tentative plans are laid out to ‘see you there sometime’. Jade talks about the newest rerelease of the classic Space Invaders for VR, and how she can play it, but has to turn the resolution up so high her headset is practically an IED. Apart from that, Jade shares her other favorite games, which are horror games with good directional audio tracking. She goes on for a bit about the best developers are simulating a real audible environment, but it’s clear she’s losing Orochi a bit in a genre that isn’t her preference.

As the clock ticks ever closer to next period, Jade starts packing up to go. Orochi stands and stretches, looking looser and more relaxed. “Hey. One other question before you go- how’d you come up with your Hero name? Mine’s from Yamata no Orochi, the sea monster. So it’s sort of just the other half of my name. I can’t figure out where Flickfang came from?”

“Oh. That is a very lame story,” Jade smiles. “When I was in my hero school in China, and learning to use my echolocation, I accidentally cut my tongue on my fang trying to make that clicking sound.” Opening her mouth, Jade demonstrates the noise she uses most often for sound-mapping. “The other students gave me the name. It started as Nick-fang because of nicking myself. Then it became Flickfang when I got better at it.”

“Oh,” Orochi chuckles, “That is kind of a lame story.”

The two share a short laugh, before they part ways for the afternoon.

4th Period: The Sour Seniors, Class 3-D!

With the last of her demonstration brushstrokes, Jade can already feel one of the members of class already deep into the midst of their own painting, having paid little attention at all. There’s an air of tension around the girl in question, as if the students on either side are expecting a blow-up.

Amahagene Takako

Head raised high, glaring down at the canvas, Takako looks like an ancient general surveying her troops, intimidating each line of ink into keeping its shape according to her commands. When Jade comes by to examine her work, the girl looks at her with a snotty expression, as if being judged by someone who can barely see is an insult.

Her work is, admittedly, good. Being judged by Jade may have more to do with the girl’s painting experience being greater than her own. There has clearly been pre-existing training. “Well?” she asks expectantly, “How is it?”

The shape of a fox lies amongst the blossoming branches of a cherry tree, serenely overseeing the grove. “Very good work, Takako-kun,” the girl’s lip curls in distaste at the use of her name, “You captured the style of Japanese sumi-e perfectly, very impressive. Have you had an art tutor before?”

“Of course I have. The Amahagene have been makers and craftsmen since before you were ever born,” the arrogant edge off the comment is dulled somewhat by the poorly thought out wording. Most families have been doing their thing since before Jade was born, whatever that thing is.

Diplomatically, Jade replies, “You clearly take great pride in your traditions.”

“Some of them.”

“Mhm. Once you are finished, you have free painting time.”

“Tch. This class is such a waste of time,” the girl responds with tangible snark, as Jade steps away. Not even care enough to grumble it under her breath.

Mochi Uranus

Seated in a wheelchair and with two casts, one on an arm and a leg, the boy seated two rows behind Takako looks about as invested in the class as she is, albeit without her work ethic and experience. Eyes and hand drooping, he creates immaterial splotches across one side of the canvas.

“What are you painting, Mochi-kun?” Jade asks, trying at least to remain friendly with these ill-inclined seniors.

The boy sighs. “I was trying to paint the Black Death,” he says, and Jade wrinkles her large and already rather wrinkled nose at the morbid subject. “The rat plague from England with all the rats in the street. My arm’s too tired though,” he complains to excuse his sloppy brushwork.

But it’s not like he doesn’t have a reasonable excuse. “Here,” reaching over, Jade guides his fingers to a better grip on his brush. “It will be easier like this. Just do your best Mochi-kun, and take breaks if you need too.” Behind her back, she can feel the girl from earlier mouthing the words mockingly, with a hateful sneer at the disabled boy. Putting together the tension in the room and the recent casts, Jade thinks she’s puzzled out the dynamic in this classroom.

It's going to be a fun one.

5th Period: The Fresh Faces, Class 1-D!

Mercifully, clean-up for Class 3-D had been much easier than the previous two classes, and Jade greets Class 1-D with a nice, tidy art room. “Welcome to Shiketsu! Like you, I am new here! You can call me Ms. Makura, Makura-sensei, or by my hero name Flickfang. Most pleasant to meet with all of you!” she greets them with a friendly bow, her huge ears flapping in the air.

The introduction to sumi-e goes smoothly. While the new Freshman have their… quirks, Jade finds them to be surprisingly mild-mannered compared to the latter years of Shiketsu students.

Reiji Kawano

With a confident expression on his face, Mr. Kawano bobs his head to invisible music. As she clicks and feels at the space of the room, Jade is surprised to find no hidden earbuds. The nature of his Quirk seems to allow him to access the internet completely without her knowing- that’s going to be an annoyance. Whether it’s something subtler hidden on him or some kind of implant, she’s not sure. There are some academic exams about artists and art styles required as part of the curriculum, and during her patrols of the classroom Jade already has a train of thought dedicated to setting up a signal-free space to prevent him from cheating with a mental Google search.

Later into the class, Jade circles around to find Reiji staring at a new, blank canvas. He’d thought he was slick, hiding the old one under a table while her back was turned, but she humors him long enough to see how he responds. “Reiji-kun, where did your painting go?”

“Oh, uh, I haven’t really started yet,” cheeks red, he glances away, fiddling with a freshly washed paintbrush in his hands. A stain on his finger betrays that some ink has already run down it before now. “I’m still planning it out in my head. The perfect piece, you know, sensei?”

Leaning down, Jade picks up the canvas hidden from view and examines it, feeling Reiji’s heartbeat race faster. Jade recognizes it: a koi swimming up a waterfall and transforming into a red dragon. A very advanced piece, which she’s definitely heard the tutorial for before. It’s clear to her, then, that though Reiji can download information into his head it doesn’t necessarily give him the skills to apply it. All the more reason not to baby him about academic misconduct.

With a hand, Jade waves a sweating Kawano into the hallway. “Reiji-kun, I’m going to tell you this once,” she says softly. “Using your Quirk to try and cheat in class is not going to make you a better Hero. It will be very likely to cause problems for you, or have you become expelled.”

Wearing a nervous grin, Reiji rubs the back of his head, “Haha, I have no idea what you’re-”

“Red koi emerging from the waterfall, advanced sumi-e tutorial episode 4,” Jade flatly recites for him, and he clears his throat.

“Oh, that. Is using a tutorial against the rules now?”

“No, but plagiarism and academic misconduct in your written exams and essays?” folding her arms, Jade stares him down as he fidgets and withers. “Come on. I will show you a tutorial more suited to your level,” she opens the door to the classroom and ushers him back inside.

Ichigo Sanizawa

Heart hammering in her chest, one student calls for questions more often than any other today.

“Erm, Makura-sensei, how should I start the first brushstroke? Can we do a pencil outline first?”

“Can you see the outline well enough?”

“I’m not sure how to make the paw look right here.”

“Makura-sensei, is a background required?”

Ichigo gives off the impression of a good-natured girl nervous about her first day. Judging by the girl’s test scores, Jade can understand being intimidated by the sheer presence of Shiketsu’s alumni past… and its dropouts past. With each question the painting shapes up a little more, coming together to a rather simple black and white portrait of a cat.

“Do you like cats?” Jade asks, the most surface-level question possible, but finally finding an opening to ask something of her own as the class winds down towards its end.

“I guess I like cats,” leaning back, Ichigo holds her hands behind her back. “I saw one on the way to school that came up and meowed at me. I wonder if they’re a stray.”

Picking up on a little thread to engage with more, Jade presses, “Does Kyoto have any good animal shelters?”

“I’m… not sure, sensei. If I see him around again maybe I can look one up,” with a downcast look, Ichigo adds, “I don’t have much space for a cat in the dorms even if there are pet allowances.”

“Maybe let me know if you find him again,” Jade volunteers. It would make her little apartment a little less quiet, and a cat would be independent enough her busy schedule wouldn’t hurt too much. “And, your painting is well-done. Don’t worry, I am not expecting masterpieces or past experience. This is only your very first class on your very first year.”

“Sure! Yes. Thanks for all the help, sensei,” with a sigh of relief, Ichigo takes the canvas off of the easel.

“And maybe I can get you a frame for that,” Jadde adds, smiling. “It’s very nice for your first one. You should put it up to decorate your dorm.”

Yagami Kirako

Going unnoticed for most of the class period, the red-haired girl in the back serenely paints without much intervention. A portrait, the contours of the face unfamiliar to Jade. What she’s drawing escapes notice until the boy beside her takes notice and does a double take. “What the hell are you doing?”

Drawn in when Yuudai calls the girl out, Jade steps in to hold up a hand. “Take it easy, Yuudai-kun. What is happening here?”

“This girl’s drawing a portrait of Sandatsu,” the young man just barely manages to keep from shouting it, but in the relative quiet of the 1-D class everyone’s head turns in attention.

Running a hand through her hair, Kirako casually explains herself, “The Reaper is a huge part of the future history of Shiketsu. I just wanted to paint something poignant and connected to current events. Is that bad?” There’s a concerning insincerity in her voice, which Jade frowns at.

“While I can… understand your reasons, it is not appropriate and may cause serious offense and harm to other students,” she chastises the student, who blows at her hair and rolls her eyes. “No, do not roll your eyes. Please discard this painting and start over.”

The girl bristles. “Class is nearly over. How am I supposed to get another painting done in time?”

“You may resume painting at the start of next class,” Jade responds sternly, repeating herself, “Kirako-kun, please discard this painting.” Receiving a vicious glare from the girl that betrays the flimsy lie of her reasons, Jade folds her arms and thinks to herself.

This is concerning. I wish there was someone better than that useless Ito to send her to.

Yamasaki Yuudai

Moving on from Kirako’s place to the boy who’d pointed out her painting, Jade avoids thanking him explicitly for the warning. She would never have realized who the portrait was of on her own, never having met the Reaper himself- something she is thankful for. Yamasaki Yuudai has painted out a portrait of a crooked old man leaning over his sword like a cane, standing on a set of stairs just before the top.

“A very interesting choice of imagery, Yuudai-kun,” Jade intuits. “Is there a meaning behind it?”

The boy’s pulse is powerful, more powerful than it should be, even at rest. His hands have sometimes started shaking in class, Jade recalls, forcing him to take a pause from his work. A result of heavy stress? Autonomic responses that only grow worse at Jade’s question. This level of stress exceeds what she’s seen in most other students, only rivalled by the strained tension in Hoge and Takako’s muscles. “Just been watching those kinds of anime I guess,” he claims, but Jade doesn’t quite sense truth in it. Once again she finds herself at want for a competent school psychiatrist. She’s going to have to pull triple-duty for the kids at this rate.

“Your work is very good Yuudai-kun, but try to relax. Do some breathing exercises. You sound very stressed and it will lead to premature grey hairs yourself!” it’s a comment made in jest, but his fist clenches around his brush, creaking the wood.

“If you like, I will meditate with you,” a smooth voice states from the next place over in the classroom. Wings folded behind him, the class’ most obvious heteromorph looks over at them.

Lixdite Aquila

With a serpentine, feathered tail, Lixdite has been treating the tip of his tail as a paintbrush. He’d been creating far less of a disaster zone than Runt’s art station, so Jade had opted to simply let him cook. He pulls in her attention, now.

“Thanks, but I can take care of my own exercises, I have a very strict routine,” Yuudai quickly rebuffs the attempted connection, and Lixdite tries to conceal a subtle frown by looking away.

Taking a few steps over, Jade cheerily comments, “That was very nice of you to offer, Lixdite-kun. I am glad to see you settle in comfortably and be a good friend to your classmates.” The therapists’ notes sent over to Ito from overseas in Italy had been far more in-depth than the school’s neglected records, giving Jade a good picture of the boy’s troubles. She takes the flutter of wind that brushes through her air as a good sign that the smile he gives is genuine.

Noticing the breeze himself, Lixdite straightens his back and hardens his expression. “I am my best to fit in… sensei,” he says, in Japanese that’s still a work in progress.

The painting is a work in progress too, an outline of a mountain range drawn along the page. There’s a decent sense of perspective in how they’re arranged, but the strange method the boy chose to paint with has not helped the neatness of his lines. “I am curious. Why decide to paint with your tail?”

“I thought. A product more unique about me.”

There’s a good idea in there, and Jade says as much, “I like the way you think, Lixdite-kun. Why we study art is very much about practicing the fine control of our bodies. Most of us will be using our hands a lot for hero work,” she holds up her own fingers and waggles them in the air. “However, your body is very unique. The control you have over your tail and wings will be very important. I will try to consider how to help you develop those in our class going forward!”

Smiling again, Lixdite raises his head. There’s something fearsome about the way his eyes fall on you, like being under the gaze of a predator. “Should I also paint with all the colors of the wind?” Another breeze flutters through the room, and Jade stares into space, struck by visions of another clean-up.

“Maybe for a different assignment. I am worried about the mess that could make with the ink.”

He looks down at the ink-jars along the bottom of the easel. “Ah. Yes. Sorry, sensei.” He uses a greeting bow awkwardly in apology. As he returns to his slow progress, Jade moves along to the next student.

Nowaru Kimi

Like her senpai Hifumi before her, Nowaru Kimi has chosen a previous work to replicate as her own. Though Jade is not sure if it is an intentional… alteration, or not. “The Ghost of Oyuki?” she asks, sensing the stringy trails of hair that hang down the… face.

“Yes,” the pale girl holds up a hand, setting it against her face. “It felt right.”

The face, of the painting that is, looks more like a bloated sponge. “An… interesting re-interpretation, Kimi-kun,” Jade says, “What do the changes to the face represent?”

“Changes?”

The two blink at each other for a few seconds. “Kimi-kun, have you ever been assessed for face-blindness?”

“No,” the girl answers, her eyes narrowing in thought. “Should I see the school counselor?” There’s hesitation there. Her psych profile already lists her as having Quirk-related delusions, despite whatever interpretations of her Quirk she’s under obviously being rooted in her religious and spiritual beliefs. Yet more nonsense from Ito-hack.

“Maybe just look into it on your own,” Jade recommends instead. The girl shrugs and picks the canvas off of her easel to hand in.

Koroma Kajo

“Call me KK!” the girl had identified herself during the class’ introductions. Her work is very simple and rough, with a mixture of half-formed ideas. Several times during the class period, Jade stops by to correct her brush grip, but the girl always seems to default back to the more ‘comfortable’ wrong grip. It’s refreshing, in a way, dealing with a student who has some normal academic difficulties.

Near the end of the period, a second KK appears. Ears perking up, Jade listens closely for signs of trouble- is her Quirk activating due to a crisis impending? They don’t exchange so much as a word. Certainly, no sign of anything being wrong. The new KK instead picks up another brush and starts adding some things to the painting.

Something she forgot to add that she retroactively came back to finish?

At the end of the class period, Kajo brings her canvas over to Jade. “Hey! I’m finished.” Smiling proudly, she points at one of several scattered bat doodles, “This one looks cool.” In her chest, Jade’s heart flutters a little. She accepts the canvas with all the due care of an adult receiving an ugly portrait of them from a small child.

“Very good improvement this class, KK-kun,” Jade says happily. “I look forward to learning with you again.” The girl beams and jogs out of the room, before the second her waves and vanishes into thin air.

The Office: After School Program, Hifumi-kun and Umeko-kun!

Clean up from the afternoon classes is simple and fast. Jade gathers up her things and flexes her neck, heading for the office. She has no more classes in sixth period today, but there is a lot of work to do in the office. Bag slung over her shoulder, she walks through the halls, now becoming familiar with at least the path between her room and Karaburan’s.

With a shy knock at the door, muffled by the fur of her hands, Jade bows her head. “Karaburan-sama, may I speak with you again?”

Pre-emptively sighing, the principal sets down her pen. “What happened now? … Come in.”

“It’s actually good news, I think,” as she walks in and takes a seat, Jade reconsiders with a tilt of her head. “Mostly good news.” Receiving a skeptical look, Jade explains, “There was one incident where one of our freshmen in 1-D painted a portrait of the Reaper. One Yagami Kirako.” Dark shadows hang around Karaburan’s face as she lowers her head.

“That is troubling news. Have you informed Ito-san?”

Jade looks aside, making a long, strained noise and shrugging her shoulders. “I have found his psychological profiles of many students very lacking or overly judging. I think that his neglect is…” a big reason that there have been so many problems, she thinks, but doesn’t quite say. It’s a big accusation.

Karaburan seems to intuit it, all the same. “There have been no complaints about Ito-san’s treatments thus far. But I will take it under advisement.” Political speak for ‘don’t overstep your bounds so quickly’. Jade sighs, she expected as much.

“The good news,” sitting up and forcing herself to be more chipper, Jade puts on a smile that’s only partially fake. “First, Hifumi-kun has asked me to help him practice using his Quirk while his eyes are closed or covered. So I am planning to help him in his training whenever I have the time.”

The principal nods her head in approval. “It is good to see you taking such an active interest in our students’ wellbeing,” in spite of any overstepping, “I approve.” Sensing pause in the air, Karaburan lifts her head. “The next thing is a bigger ask,” she intuits.

“I would like to deliver a remedial program and personal tutoring to Umeko Higa on Friday and Saturday nights,” Jade proposes. “Including practice patrols for field experience, since she was unable to secure an internship over the summer. My license is still valid, even though I am not with any agencies outside of the school.”

It’s clear from the look on the principal’s face that this wasn’t whatever she was expecting. “Umeko Higa has consistently given poor grades, barely passing her classes. I would love to see you help her improve, but I am hesitant to approve her for active patrols with the city in this state. And you were a sidekick, not solo.”

Jade rankles a little at the implication, but holds back the impulsive indignation. “Umeko-kun’s natural sleep cycle is nocturnal. Ito…san missed the signs, but I have had to reverse my sleep schedule before and recognize the signs. That she has managed to make due with such mounting exhaustion is very impressive, I think,” Jade insists. “Let me start with the remedial courses first. And if you would feel more comfortable, I can try to find someone else with lead experience to join us on our night patrols.” Clasping her hands, Jade bows her head. “I believe that Umeko-kun has greater potential and has been failed by the system. Please allow me to help her.”

“I will approve the remedial courses. Let me think on this… pseudo-internship,” Karaburan resolves. “Now, we have a lot of paperwork left to do.”

Jade stands and bows deeply. “Thank you.”

The Staff Room

After a grueling first day’s worth of cleaning and paper work, Jade finds her way to the staff room for some coffee. Grabbing a brew, she leans on the window sill and looks out over the school grounds. Other members of the staff come and go as they finish the lingering after-school work.

The Motivational Hero: Rosethorn

Wearing her nice, trim uniform suit, Ami walks in wearing a broad smile. It’s infectious, and Jade finds herself smiling too- not just because she’s been looking for an excuse to say hello all day. “Hey, cousin!” she calls out, waving emphatically. Perhaps coming on a little too strong with someone she just met- Ami hesitates before coming over.

“Makura-san, your first day went well?” while she asks, the inspirational hero pours herself a cup of her own.

“Ah,” leaning back, Jade shrugs her shoulders. “It was productive. I got to know a lot of the students better, and I’m going to be helping Umeko-kun with an after school program to help get her grades up.”

The genuine smile comes back. “That’s great to hear.”

“What about you? Anything interesting happen the first day back?” Jade takes a sip while listening. It’s an excellent flavor profile, Jade usually prefers a mocha, but the coffee itself here is really good. She’ll have to give the artisan a kudos when they come by.

Twirling some of her hair, Ami laughs softly to herself, glancing out the window playfully, “This year’s class representative was elected. The students tried to elect their new class pet, but thankfully someone more sensible was in second place. Hifumi-kun will rise to the challenge, I think.”

Jade joins her cousin in laughing. “That is what they call him. He seems like a good kid. I will be helping some with his practices too, training to fight with his eyes closed.” Ears perking up, she tries pushing a little more now that the ice is broken, “Did you get my message?” She had invited Ami out for noodles this weekend to get to know each other better.

“The beginning of the school year is always very busy, but maybe on Sunday?”

“Sunday works great for me!”

After they part ways, Jade is left bubbling up with anticipation.

The Laser Hero, Majestic

That joyful anticipation quickly sours when a certain someone walks past the door in his hoity-toity cape and his buzzcut. Majestic takes one look into the room and squints at Jade, before walking on past. Works for her. He can go get shittier coffee somewhere else if he’s going to be like that.

The Overly-Enthusiastic Tokusatsu Hero, LocaLoca

Like a rollercoaster, the next staff member to happen by greets Jade warmly. “Wow! Yo, it’s the new girl!” Others might find LocaLoca overbearing, but when she comes up with arms wide open to give Jade a big hug, the gesture is returned readily and the two do a little spin around the room. “Oh my gosh, is that makeup or natural?” With the back of a finger, the air-headed hero brushes some of the yellow patterns around Jade’s eye.

“Painted on. I style them myself,” Jade brags proudly, stepping back for another sip of her coffee. The motion reminds LocaLoca of why she came, and she drains the last of the pot. “Does LocaLoca like a mocha?”

“Yeeees!” leaning back, the enthused woman holds out her arms. “We totally have to go get one sometime at Xpresso’s place. New besties?”

“Eeee! New besties!” screeching in agreement and freshly caffeinated veins, Jade bounces up and down with the tokusatsu-clad hero, both finally finding someone she can match energy with without blowing them off their feet.

The Coffee-chugging Hero, Xpresso

As the two are bouncing up and down, a tall, well-muscled, and well-endowed woman strides into the room, putting on another pot. “How magnificent it is to find my coffee bringing people together,” with a thick accent as rich as her product, Ramona leans against the counter and folds her arms under her massive chest. Jade feels a little bit jealous, but it must take an industrial-quality set of straps to hold those babies up.

It's the Xpresso Brewery that provides all of the coffee beans and machines for Shiketsu, so Jade has this woman to thank for having actually-good breakroom coffee for once. “Great to finally meet you! I loved your coffee shops even over in China,” Jade opens warmly. “My compliments to the brewer. You make break time worth it!”

“Nothing could warm the heart of one who cultivates the bean more thoroughly,” Ramona places a hand over her chest. “I hope you are well. The student body can be very eclectic, but there are few jobs more rewarding.”

The Fiery Dragon Hero, Blast Burn

More footsteps coming down the hall turn into the staff room. Walking through straight-backed and confident with her uniform jacket over her shoulders, radiating enough gravitas to turn all eyes in the room, is Atsushi Akane- Blast Burn. The conversation had already been winding down, and her stately presence brings a quiet over the room. Xpresso pours herself and Akane a cup from the new pot, then makes her way out.

As Jade is leaving with LocaLoca, Akane reaches out and stops her. “May I speak with you alone?” Immediately, worries begin to percolate in Jade’s head. Is this about speaking with Orochi in the cafeteria? Some warning from the family not to get involved in their business? She takes a seat on the staff couch across from an armchair, where Akane seats herself.

“Did you need something, Blast Burn-sama?” Jade asks, trying to be polite and deferential. To her surprise, Akane’s expression softens once they are alone.

“I noticed you speaking with my sister earlier today,” the suspicions were correct, but from the tone of voice Jade had things backwards. “It’s been hard for her lately… I think someone with no past bias is exactly who she needs to get her talking about her issues,” folding one leg over the other, Akane takes off her uniform hat and sets it on her lap. “Thank you for taking an interest in my sister’s wellbeing, Makura-san.”

“Of course,” Jade smiles back, her earlier awkwardness forgotten. “Do you have any advice?”

“Don’t try to pry about the family situation, or the Reaper situation,” the other woman cautions sternly. “She needs someone she can be a person with. Not an Atsushi, and not a Hero.” Jade nods her head in solemn understanding.

The Mole Hero: Tunnel Rat

Waddling footsteps make their way into the staff lounge. Ears perking up at the grating sound of a chair on the floor, Jade stands from her conference with Akane to address Mr. Tyler, in the process of dragging a chair over to the counter where the coffee machine is. “Ah! Mr. Tyler, do you need a hand with that?”

“No, thank you kindly,” he answers quickly. “Last thing I need is folks babying me up, now. I’m a grown man and I know how to get a coffee by my own self,” the American answers, a distinctive drawl creeping into his Japanese.

“Right!” Jade knows being treated differently for your mutation can make you feel weird, and not good-weird. Akane’s hand pats her on the arm as the woman leaves, and Jade gravitates back to the window spot where she’d left her coffee. “How was your first day?”

Michelson slowly empties the third and last dose of coffee from the pot into a doubled paper cup. “Lively bunch at this school. It wasn’t easy and that’s the God’s honest truth, but I think we laid the ground rules down nice and firm. Can’t build in a loose foundation.” It’s a different philosophy from Jade’s more liquid approach, but she wouldn’t argue against it. In her opinion, students need both to thrive.

“At least they’ll finally have another good male role model,” she says, a little more gossip in her voice than perhaps she’d intended. Throwing anonymous shade over the silhouettes of Majestic and Ito.

“Mhm,” clearly not interested in getting into subtle jabs, Michelson nods his head and hops down from the chair, dragging it back into place. “Have yourself a good day.” With that, he shuffles out.

The Hack Psychiatrist, Karuga Ito

“Tsk,” passing Michelson on his way out is about the last person Jade wanted to chat with. With his messy hair hanging around his head, he approaches the empty pot and starts filling the filter for a new batch. “So hard for people to refill the pot before they go,” he says, hiding the venom in his voice behind a façade of good-natured chuckling, but Jade can feel the irritation in his body.

“Worth it,” Jade makes the barest attempt at friendly socialization. “Best office coffee this side of France.”

“You’re not wrong,” the man accepts, with a more genuine upward lilt in his voice. “So how were the little monsters today? Were the files I sent you helpful?”

“A little skimpy,” Jade looks at her claws, avoiding his eye. “But I will be fine.”

Awkward silence hangs in the air while they wait for his coffee to be done so he can leave.

The Gentle School Nurse, Emilia Busujima

Their standoff of mutual ignorance is broken by another smiling face cutting between them. “Ms. Makura, nice to see you! It’ll be nice to have proper introductions in the assembly later this week.” An official welcome to the new staff and students, after they’ve had a few days to settle in.

“I’m looking forward to it,” glad to be saved from Ito’s presence, Jade kicks one leg in the air while she leans against the wall. “How was Runt?”

“Oh, the ink was non-toxic,” Emilia answers precognitively, “You could season your noodles with it if you wanted. It’s actually quite good! But don’t do that Karaburan-sama will be very cross about the budget.” The two of them share a laugh while Ito pours himself a cup in the background and makes himself refreshingly scarce. “We learned last year to be careful. Little Runt isn’t the only one, but he sure gets into his share of funny business…”

Runt’s Little Adventure in Firearm Safety!

“Achoo!” sneezing loudly, Runt wipes his nose with the back of a finger, ears flopping at his sides. He’s on a walk around the neighborhood, looking if any of the window sills with the good potting soil in their planters are open. So far no luck.

Then, Runt notices someone ahead walking into an alley, a large man wearing a red hat with a white pom-pom and a big sack over his shoulder. Understandably intrigued, Runt jogs after the mysterious figure, chasing them down the side street.

With a huge jaw and a deep five-o’clock shadow, the hulking figure ahead stands a man and a half tall, and a man and a half wide at the shoulders. An arm with muscles like a boulder rolls a boulder beside him, until he leans it against the rear wall of the convenience store beside him and reaches into his lumpy sack. From it he pulls a bright, shining gun and sets it on the ground.

“Are you Santa Claus?” Runt asks, causing the man to look up. Wearing an underbitten grin, the man walks closer. No red and white coat adorns him, but instead a bulletproof vest.

“HELLO SMALL CHILD. HO HO HO,” the man booms. “I BRING GIFTS FOR ALL THE GOOD BOYS AND GIRLS. OR WHATEVER YOU ARE.” Reaching into the bag, he grabs another fresh, polished gun and holds it out in front of Runt. “GO. COMMIT CRIMES. GUN CRIMES. AND REMEMBER TO EAT DIRT!”

Staring up into the man’s smiling face, framed by the light of the sun from the other side of the alley, Runt is taken in by his angelic wisdom. Taking the gun in his hands, Runt looks at it. His finger slips and hits the trigger, resulting in a resounding crack that shakes the air around him.

“AAAARGH! I’VE BEEN SHOT! HOW COULD THIS HAPPEN?” Santa Claus grips the front of his vest, staggering back against the wall. Shoving off, he begins to hobble down the other side of the alley.

Feeling panic flood his veins, Runt runs back towards Shiketsu, holding his gun high in the air. “I just shot Santa Claus!” he calls out in despair.