Of Broken Things

Chapter 1: Hearts

Anzu Nishima, headmistress of Shiketsu Hero School, walked the deserted gravel path towards the Sennyuji Temple. The distant sounds of cars battling against the flow of time threatened but didn’t pierce the temple’s tranquility. The loose gravel crunched beneath her feet with every step. The temple loomed before her; its wooden gate and red Tori stood defiant against the world, offering the promise of respite in these chaotic times. That promise, for Anzu, was a lie. She was not here to worship. She was here on business. To meet an old... it was easiest to think of him as an acquaintance.

As Anzu approached, she spied the purification fountain next to the temple’s outer Tori gate. She stepped towards the fountain and looked at the ladle resting lazily in the water. A ladle meant to be picked up with one hand and pour water over the other. She glanced at her empty sleeve. She couldn’t do this herself. She grabbed a silk rope above the fountain and pulled. A bell rang.

In a few moments, a priest stepped out of the temple’s front gate. His head was bowed, obscuring his face. His hands and body were hidden in long, flowing robes.

“Yes, dear patron? Do you need assistance?”

Anzu bowed. There was something familiar about the priest’s voice, but she dismissed it. He couldn’t be her acquaintance. The voice was too young. The man she was meeting would be around ninety. This priest sounded like he was in his mid-30s.

“I need help washing my hand.” She flexed the stub of her left shoulder to emphasize her empty sleeve.

“Of course!” The priest scuttled towards Anzu. She held her hand over the gravel next to the fountain. The priest retrieved the temple’s ladle, dipped it in the water, and washed the back of her hand.

The water was cool and, despite herself, Anzu felt cleansed as it washed over her hand. She turned her hand over waiting for the priest to wash her palm.

The priest dipped the ladle in the water again. He lifted the ladle. His sleeve slid up. Anzu saw his hands. Her eyes widened. She grabbed his wrist!

The priest didn’t yelp. He didn’t jump. He didn’t even drop the ladle. He didn’t seem to register her action as more than a curiosity. He looked up at Anzu, bright blue eyes gleaming with something like amusement. His face was even more worn than she remembered but still handsome. They were inches away now and Anzu could smell his cologne.

“What gave me away?” Sam–DESOLATOR–asked. He let go of the ladle, letting it rest in the fountain. “The cologne?”

It’d be hard to forget those hands. “What’d you do with the priest?” Anzu asked, avoiding the question.

“Tranquilized. I laid him in bed. When he wakes in an hour he’ll be embarrassed he overslept, but otherwise unharmed. His daughter’s at school. His wife’s at work. We have the place to ourselves.”

Anzu released his wrist. “If you’re lying…”

Desolator looked her in the eye. “I don’t hurt civilians, but you know that.”

Anzu avoided his eyes. She did know that.

“…”

Silence stretched between them like a roiling storm. The last time they’d spoken… it wasn’t supposed to be goodbye. There was much to be said, but no strength to say it.

“… Why’d you ask me here Anzu?”

She looked at him balefully as he used her given name like nothing had ever happened. She pushed down her outrage, she was here for a purpose. “I need information.”

“I had hoped that was just an excuse.” Desolator’s smile widened just a hair, but there was something like disappointment in his voice.

“Fuck off.” Anzu snapped.

Desolator’s smile faded imperceptibly. “What is it?”

Anzu met Desolator’s gaze. She kept her voice even. She reminded herself that the man before her had filled graveyards. He was a monster. It was enough to keep the color out of her face as she met his eyes.

“One of my students had a Red Light issued on him...”

“Cain.” Desolator didn’t even try to hide his familiarity with this particular student. There wouldn’t be a point.

“Who was he in danger from?” Anzu knew the answer to that question–

“I wouldn’t know.” Desolator lied.

– She just wanted to confirm that Desolator was working for Daiichi. If he weren’t, he’d confirm it was the Daiichi. He’d have no reason to hide it. However, if he worked for them, he’d be obligated to deny knowing. The look in Desolator’s eyes told her he knew what she was doing. He didn’t seem to care.

“Who issued it?”

“… I wouldn’t know.”

Anzu flinched. His eyes. He knew. He couldn’t say. He worked with the issuer too?! What the fuck? That didn’t … was it Myoga? She knew her blond student had some connection to the Daiichi. His quirk was a giveaway to anyone who’d fought the old clan head, but she’d thought the boy had cut ties with the clan. Still, if he worked with the clan it’d make sense for him to issue a red light. He and Cain were joined at the hip. But how –

“I’m sorry I couldn’t help,–”

“So am I.”

“–but I found out something curious today.” Desolator began suddenly and unprompted. “Did you know Nox’s quirk was originally registered as Darkness Control?”

Anzu blinked. “Wh–” Where the Hell was this coming from?

Desolator gave her THAT look. The one that told her to shut up and listen. “The fact that she generates darkness was obfuscated in the official records until her debut as a villain,–”

Official records… the quirk registration – Anzu’s eyes widened.

“– at which point her record was quietly changed to account for her ability to generate darkness. No one noticed.”

There was only one person who could change records without raising any flags and only one reason Desolator would bring him up out of the blue like this. Dr. Saraki, the QRS’s mad scientist, was the one who issued the red light on Cain. There was only one more question to ask.

“Why?”

“Who knows?” Desolator shrugged. “Whoever obfuscated her quirk originally–” Desolator pretended to talk about Nox instead of Cain, but the subject didn’t matter, the answer was always the same with Saraki. “–must’ve found her quirk interesting.”

'Interesting,' as if lying about a quirk’s function because it was 'interesting' would make sense to anyone else. But for that vile, impulsive toad… it made perfect sense. He wouldn't want to share Nox’s quirk. As for Cain… he wouldn’t want his toy broken before he could do it himself.

“Again, I’m so sorry I couldn’t help you.”

Anzu glowered at him. She had no idea why he always pretended there was an audience. It was such an annoying habit.

“Is there anything else you need?” Desolator asked, in that subtle longing way. The way that told Anzu he was hoping they weren’t done here. The same way he’d ask if she REALLY needed to leave when they– It made her stomach turn. He was faking that tone! She knew he was. He had to be! If he weren’t, he wouldn’t have left her all those years ago. He was doing this to get under her skin and keep her off balance. Two can play that game.

“Sure,” Anzu smiled sweetly. “you’re under arrest.”

“That eager to get me in cuffs~?”

“What the–” Realization hit Anzu like a freight train. She colored. “FUCK YOU!”

Desolator grinned in that infuriating manner. He reached up and brushed a strand of hair behind Anzu’s ear. A bolt of lightning ran down the heroine’s spine as his fingertips brushed her cheek. She felt like a cheap suit about to fold. “Under normal circumstances, I’d let you~”

“Oh, gods! I didn’t mean it like that!”

“However,” Desolator sighed like he truly regretted what he was about to say. “Not today. I set a time limit on our meeting and can’t stay long.”

Anzu took a deep breath. She willed the color to drain from her face. She regained her composure. She reached out with her quirk. The bitter winter breeze stopped at her command.

“You think you got a say?” She was going to take him in.

“I have no doubt you could defeat me right now Anzu. Unfortunately, I left Nox in charge of the Five’s official response if you capture me.”

Anzu’s smile faltered.

“I didn’t tell her how to conduct the response. I didn’t want to stifle her creativity,” Desolator shrugged nonchalantly as he looked towards the city. Towards all those cars moving along those busy streets. Streets that could, at any moment, be plunged into darkness. “but it IS rush hour.”

Anzu sighed. The breeze began again. He could be lying, but she couldn’t risk Nox covering the roads in darkness. There was no telling how many dozens, or hundreds, of people might get hurt... or worse.

“Go.”

Desolator hesitated a moment. It was like he wanted to say something more. His lips began to curve and form a word. The first letter was an ‘S.’ Then he stopped himself. He turned to leave.

“I heard your podcast.” Anzu snapped. She didn’t want to mention it, but there was something he said on that podcast that’d crawled under her skin and died. She had to get it off her chest.

“Oh?”

“It was a stupid idea.”

“It was! But, I’m not in the habit of saying ‘no’ to an idea just because I don’t understand it.”

“You sounded like an idiot when you answered those ‘fan’ questions” Anzu grumbled, unable to bring herself to say what answer had bothered her.

“The two of us never fought.”

Anzu froze for a heartbeat before she turned away from him. She couldn’t let Desolator see her face right now. She couldn't let him see he knew what she wanted to hear, that it’d hurt her when he said another, younger, woman’s name.

“If we ever had–no, even if we fought today… my answer would change.”

Anzu didn’t respond, but she could feel the heat in her ears. She listened as Sam walked away.

“Asshole,” Anzu muttered. She entered the temple to check on the priest.

---

Desolator walked away from the temple, discarding the sacred robes of the priest as he did. His face was unreadable. When he got to the road, he was dressed in his usual suit. A dark sedan with diplomatic plates idled on the shoulder waiting for him. He got in the passenger’s seat. Maddox sat behind the wheel.

“You good boss?”

“Drive.”

Maddox nodded and began to drive the car away. Desolator pulled out a white towel. He wiped off his makeup. With every stroke, he revealed the smooth restored skin of youth. Desolator disposed of the towel and stared out the window; he didn’t speak.

“… that bad?” Maddox frowned.

“I never wanted to see her again.”

“I know... but, hey! At least the plan’s in motion now, right? Now that Shiketsu knows Saraki’s got his claws in Chris–”

“Cain.” Desolator corrected her. “We aren’t his friends.”

“Right, right, too much time with Inigo. Sorry boss.”

“Never apologize.” Desolator kept looking ahead. Maddox was right. The entire point of meeting Anzu had been to inform her that Saraki had his claws in Cain. Now that the Shiketsu faculty was aware, that information would inevitably leak back to the Daiichi. Perhaps, if Sato knew the Shie Hassaikai had been strong-armed into issuing the red light on Cain, he’d pause his warpath.

However, even if Sato pushed forward despite this information, Shiketsu would be involved now. This meant Inigo wouldn’t be able to stay neutral in the conflict. When forced to choose between the brother that beat the Hell out of him, or protecting his best friend… Inigo’s choice was obvious. Thus, the Five would honor their contract with the Daiichi and Shie Hassaikai by taking Inigo’s side.

Even if Inigo defied expectations and stood beside his brother, the Five were in the same position they’d been in before this play. It was a plan with potentially great rewards and minimal risk. The worst thing that could happen was the Daiichi found out about this meeting and if that happened… well the Shie Hassaikai would welcome The Five’s assistance in the coming war.

All it cost was hurting Anzu again….

“You loved her?” Maddox asked out of the blue.

“… yes.”

“Sorry, I just ask because you’ve never talked about her. You’ve told me all about your wives...”

“I’m not the sort to bring up my failures.”

“Well, it’s brought up. You wanna talk about it?”

Desolator didn’t… but he’d be talked into it eventually knowing Maddox. “Before Jabberwocky and I started the Five, I tried to go straight… again. I found a job in Japan as the Hero Association’s hired gun.”

“An Enforcer?”

“I don’t think they called it that, but essentially, yes. Anzu and I worked on a case together. She was a young heroine with designs on the top 10. I was a ‘legendary’ assassin with designs on a normal life. We didn’t exactly hit it off, but, when our investigation led us to staking out a building for the better part of a month….”

There was no need to continue that thought. Many ill-conceived romances began out of boredom and stakeouts were incredibly boring.

“A few months after we started seeing each other, the Japanese government put a hit on me. I think Interpol put pressure on them to get rid of me, but, whatever the reason, they decided they’d prefer me six feet down. I caught wind of the plot and got out.”

Desolator tried to gather his thoughts briefly, but the last slipped out unfiltered. “I wasn’t able to contact her before I fled.”

“And you couldn’t talk to her because if the government knew you still had feelings for her…”

Desolator didn’t bother finishing her sentence. Maddox knew that side of things from personal experience. You had to be careful of falling in love with an honest person. You could ruin their lives for the sin of loving them.

“… Is the spark still there?”

Desolator looked out the window. He saw the faint reflection of a young man, in danger of repeating his mistakes. A peril he couldn't avert. “Just drive.”

Chapter 2: Quirks

In the QRS office building, there’s a place that doesn’t officially exist. Beneath the crushing boredom of offices and meetings, beneath even the underground parking, there’s a secret floor. A floor where monsters treated monsters. Where quirks too dangerous for the public are the playthings of those with the knowledge and drive to alter them into something safe. There, in that clandestine basement, was a familiar young man lying in an MRI machine. Sitting in the monitor room was a monstrous doctor, a black dragon, and the only thing on this planet to call the monster a friend.

Dr. Saraki sat in the QRS’s MRI monitor room. Next to him sat Dr. Monosuke, his long-time colleague. They were looking at a monitor with a video feed of Christopher Cain in an MRI. A black dragon, bored from her antics, perched on Saraki’s skull with a yawn. Saraki paid her no mind, too absorbed with the results of the MRI.

Dr. Monosuke looked at the monitor to his side displaying Cain’s brain activity, then back at the black dragon perched on Saraki’s scalp.

“She doesn’t cause any spikes at all.” He whispered in awe. “It’s like she’s a completely separate entity.”

Saraki huffed in agreement.

“… I’d think you’d be more excited. This could be the proof we’ve been looking for that quirks are living things.”

“Yes, it’s horribly exciting.” Saraki deadpanned. “But it doesn’t answer the core issue of his quirk. It doesn’t even provide a clue.”

Monosuke sighed. He should’ve known. Saraki wasn’t excited because he’d already assumed he was right about quirks being separate entities. He had a talent for thinking he was right. Right now, the good doctor could only see what he didn’t understand and that was Cain’s quirk.

“Why DOES he forget?” Saraki grossed. Hitomi, the black dragon, put her claw under her chin and seemed to ponder the question just as deeply.

“Well, it’s clear he suffers a hidden seizure when he ‘drops a mirror’ as he describes it.”

“That’s another thing, why a mirror?”

“Excuse me?”

“He keeps talking about mirrors. There’s no correlation between his quirk and mirrors as I understand it.”

“Quirk visualization. It’s one of the first lessons taught in some American programs. It probably helped him use his quirk if he thought of it as ‘capturing a quirk’s reflection.’”

“Right, he’s a transfer, I forget.”

“Did Hitomi ever talk to you about an issue with her son’s quirk?”

“No.” Saraki waved his hand, a little too quickly. He paused. “She once asked if I trusted Grandpa Slow.”

“Do you think she sought him out?”

“Probably.” Saraki made a note to call Slow later.

“… when?”

“Hmm?”

“When did she ask about Slow? Was it when Cain’s quirk would’ve developed?”

“How old is he again?”

“15.”

“Then yes, it was 11 years ago. He’d have been 4.”

“… that seems early.”

“Quirks have been known to manifest in the womb,” Saraki remarked with a raised eyebrow.

“No, I mean, early to notice his issue. Our records show he manifested at 4 years old…”

“Hmmm,”

“Do you remember what time of the year Hitomi called you?”

“July 26th. I remember because I had to put down a particularly interesting quirk that day. Sunspot. He kept knocking out power to the city. It was such a shame he had to die. The way he interacted with electricity was astounding, but there was nothing that could be done for him.”

“Hmmm, the first time she brought the boy in for a quirk checkup was… July of 22XX.”

“…”

Monosuke looked through the files more carefully. “Oh, this is interesting.”

“What’s that?”

“It says here–” Monosuke remembered to shut off the MRI while they weren’t looking at the feed but didn’t bother to tell Cain he could move. “–it says here that–”

“Can I move?” Cain’s voice came over the intercom. He’d probably noticed the machine suddenly quieting.

“Yes,” Saraki answered tersely. Then returned his attention to Monosuke, annoyed he’d turned off the MRI and exposed them to such intolerable distractions.

Monosuke shrugged apologetically, “It says here that he’d been captured and tortured by a villain named Mongrel around that time of year.”

“I know Mongrel! He had quite the interesting quirk, he could create negative pressure INSIDE a victim or object. He usually chose to use it inside a victim’s head. Hitomi was the only person, other than Sun Man, to survive an encounter with him. I suppose kidnapping Cain must’ve been his way of getting revenge on her for surviving!” Saraki explained as if getting revenge for such a slight was an obvious thing to do.

“It seems Cain was rescued in… yes, July.”

“… you believe his quirk manifested under torture?” Saraki felt his heart quicken. He knew where this was going. He was excited!

Monosuke let out a soft ‘Hmmm.’ It was something they’d only hypothesized as possible, not something they’d ever dreamed to encounter.

Quirk manifestation was a straightforward science. A person’s quirk was set at birth, it was just a matter of a user encountering the right circumstances or mental development to use it.

Quirk awakening was ill-understood. The quirk, when exposed to extreme stimulus seemed to change per their user’s needs in the moment.

What would happen to a quirk if it manifested and awakened around the same time?

Monosuke and Saraki had labeled that impossible occurrence ‘Broken Quirk Syndrome.’ They’d long hypothesized a broken quirk would function… wrong. The awakening would take place in a mind too young to understand what it needed. With a quirk, they’d never used before. They never dreamed of encountering such an occurrence but...

Christopher’s quirk could be what they’ve been looking for.

Saraki sneered.

“Excited?”

“Do you even have to ask?”

“No.” Monosuke stared through the monitor, at the young boy pacing in circles in the MRI room. A young boy who may hold the secrets for a deeper understanding of how quirks functioned. “I’m excited too.”

---

Hitomi, forgotten on Saraki’s head, frowned.

---

Christopher Cain sat in an exam room. The blinding white halogen light buzzed obnoxiously overhead. He sat on a rubber mattress. Dr. Saraki was sitting on a small brown stool. He was marking down some final notes before they began his exam. Christopher tried to focus on the doctor, but his attention kept being drawn by the antics of the little black dragon atop Saraki’s head.

Hitomi was dressed in scrubs. She held a small clipboard in her arms. A stethoscope rested around her neck. A head mirror was strapped to the side of her head lazily. A long gray beard flowed beneath her chin. She looked ready to treat Christopher.

“Cain?”

Christopher looked at Saraki. The doctor seemed oblivious to the little dragon playing dress-up on his head. Christopher resisted the urge to grin.

“Yes, sir?”

“Hrm, can you tell me about when your quirk manifested?” Saraki prodded.

“Yeah,” Christopher took a moment to recall the first time he used his quirk. “I was four. My maternal grandmother was visiting and… I guess I must’ve copied Mom’s quirk because the next thing I knew she was floating. Dad was… supportive of my antics.” He smiled.

“I see,” Saraki looked disappointed. “and when was this?”

“August 12th, 22XX.” Christopher reported. He remembered the day well. If he closed his eyes, he could see his dad laughing and his grandmother’s pale face. He could even recall the empty chair where his mother was probably sitting.

Saraki perked up again. “August? Are you sure? Not July?”

“Yes, it was August.” Christopher insisted.

“… look at this date for me.” Saraki showed Christopher his clipboard.

Christopher took the clipboard. The page it was turned to described a ‘quirk checkup’ on July 28th 22XX. The patient was… Christopher Cain.

“I don’t understand. This was 2 weeks before my quirk manifested.”

“That you remember.” Saraki corrected.

Christopher frowned. He tried to remember July of that year. Despite being so young, he could remember most everything that year, except his mom… and the month of July. The entire month was an opaque canvas of pain and terror. One… he was glad he didn’t remember.

“What do you remember of Mongrel?”

“Nothing.”

“Ple–” The first syllable had barely left Saraki’s mouth before Hitomi rested a sharp talon on his jugular. A trickle of blood fell from the mark. Christopher looked up at Hitomi but said nothing. He didn’t know why Hitomi reacted violently every time Saraki tried to say ‘please,’ but he trusted it was for a good reason. Saraki sighed as if the fact that his life was being threatened was an inconvenience.

“Try to remember.” Saraki corrected himself. Hitomi removed the talon.

“I don’t.” Christopher insisted. “I’ve read the reports, but I must’ve repressed the memories.”

“Either that or it’s your quirk’s induced amnesia.”

“… WHAT?!”

“As this appointment indicates,” Saraki tapped the clipboard, unbothered by Christopher’s growing alarm, “you must’ve already manifested your quirk in July.”

Christopher looked down at the clipboard again. Hitomi left Saraki’s head and rested on her master’s shoulder. She stroked his hair as he read the date again and again. If this was real…

Saraki smirked. “Do you know how Mongrel died?”

Christopher wanted to vomit. Mongrel had been killed the same way he liked to kill his victims. His head was ripped apart from the inside. The official report was that Miracle had used her quirk to accomplish this… but… that didn’t HAVE to be true. If Christopher’s quirk had manifested, then there was another person present who could’ve done it. A little boy who could’ve copied his tormentor’s quirk and….

Hitomi stroked his cheek soothingly, her face buried in his hair.

---

It wasn’t your fault.

Saraki twitched. He watched as the dragon tried to soothe Cain. She was trying to comfort him. He glanced at Cain’s expression. She wasn’t having an effect.

“It’s a sad state of affairs.” Saraki continued, ignoring the dragon. He leaned back in his chair contemplatively. “Your quirk likely manifested under extraordinary stress. Not only were you tortured for…” Saraki checked his notes. “I believe it was 10 days before your mother finally rescued you. But your first use of a quirk was mur–”

A spiked tail shot for Saraki’s throat. The tip came to a rest on his carotid.

Saraki blinked in surprise. He looked at Hitomi. The little black dragon glared at him murderously.

Rephrase!

Saraki shuddered. He glanced at Cain. The boy looked numb, perhaps accusing him of murder would’ve pushed him over the edge…

“–self-defense.” Saraki corrected. The spiked tail left his throat.

Cain looked up at him, his features green. “I killed someone?” His voice was small.

“Possibly, it’s not important. What’s important is that the circumstances of your manifestation fit a theory of mine as to what’s wrong with your quirk.”

Cain shook his head. Like he was trying to shake away the possibility that he was a murderer. “What theory?”

“Tell me what you know of Quirk Awakenings.”

“Only what’s publicly available,” Cain muttered. He seemed to accept the uncertainty of the blood on his hands for the moment. Perhaps he was in denial. “When a quirk user is under stress, his quirk can change function or even gain new functions entirely. We don’t understand the mechanics.”

“Correct. I wish I had more to add, but the truth of the matter is, that the public knows nearly as much on the topic as the scientific community. It’s one of the last great mysteries of Quirk Science.”

Saraki hummed as he took the clipboard from Cain’s numb hands. “I do have a hypothesis though. I’m still working on an appropriate experiment to test it, but I can share it with you. I believe that Quirk Awakenings are the quirk responding to a user’s perceived needs.”

“‘Perceived’ needs?” Christopher latched onto the right word.

“Yes, while quirks behave as living things. Most are not what you would call ‘sentient.’” He glanced at Hitomi. “Present company excepted of course.”

Hitomi didn’t even look at him.

“As such, a quirk has no possible way of knowing what a user needs beyond the user’s input.”

Cain began to follow Saraki’s line of thought. His mouth fell agape.

Saraki kept the smile off his face. Cain was already following along. It was nice to have such a smart patient. He’d understand the implications quickly. However, Saraki had to be careful now. Cain wasn’t in his right mind and he didn’t want to push him too far by showing how excited he was– or did he? What would Cain look like when pushed too far? Would he yell? Would he cry? How would Cain breaking affect the dragon?! Saraki didn’t know.

He needed to know.

“I’m afraid your quirk awakened either when you manifested, or shortly after.” Cain trembled. Hitomi tried to hug his ear. Saraki hid his excited sneer behind his clipboard. Was that shaking anger? Fear? Despair? And what was Hitomi feeling right now? Would she comfort him? Would she mirror the same emotions?! One way to find out. Just one word should do it. “When your quirk awakened, it responded to the needs of a child who couldn’t comprehend what he was going through. A child who had just been tortured for a fortnight and saw his tormentor’s head explode.” Here it was. “A child who WANTED to forget–”

Cain shot across the room like a canonball! He tackled Saraki off the stool and onto the hard linoleum floor.

“–URK!” Saraki gasped as Cain straddled him. The boy’s thumb dug painfully into Saraki’s larynx. Cain’s eyes burned with outrage.

“I DIDN’T WANT THIS!” Cain screamed in Saraki’s face. Spittle flecked the mad doctor’s fascinated eyes. He hadn’t expected Cain to break like this. He’d assumed Cain would shut down, perhaps cry. He hadn’t expected rage.

Hitomi alighted atop Saraki’s forehead. She gently pat Cain’s arm.

Let him go. This isn’t his fault it’s–

Saraki watched in shock. The construct was trying to stop her master! How wonderful…. Saraki rolled his eyes to look up at Cain. What would be his response? Would he listen? Could he be talked down?

Cain’s expression was complicated as he choked the life out of Saraki. There was anger and denial, yes, but there was also fear. Somewhere, deep down, he knew what Saraki was hypothesizing was true. On some level, he knew that scared 4-year-old boy just wanted to forget what he’d been through. That every second he suffered from his quirk’s complication was his fault.

Hitomi squeezed Cain’s wrist and chirped sternly.

Christopher Cyrus Cain. Let. Him. Go.

Cain looked at Hitomi. His eyes widened. She met his gaze defiantly.

“I didn’t do this to myself,” Cain whispered. His voice was raspy and on the verge of tears. Hitomi rested her head on his hands in comfort. “I didn’t…” Doubt crept into his voice. His grip loosened, enough for Saraki to speak.

“W-well, I-I- cough I d-didn’t cough mean to accuse you of THAT my boy.” Saraki lied. There was little point in ACTUALLY dying now that his curiosity had been satisfied. Cain’s grip loosened a little more. Saraki let himself gulp in air. “It was unfortunate timing. A quirk doesn’t exactly ask the user what he needs. It just saw your memories were hurting you and… got rid of them. Unfortunately, it’s like an autoimmune response. It doesn’t know how to stop.”

Cain got off of Saraki. He was trembling. He looked confused and appalled like he didn’t know where that anger came from. Hitomi flew to Cain’s shoulder and resumed stroking his hair and chirping softly in his ear. He crouched there for a moment, trying to gain control of himself.

Saraki rubbed his throat. There’d be bruising, but it was worth it! He’d never seen a quirk oppose its master so firmly. He wondered if there was some sort of dissociation between user and quirk resulting from the abuses Cain suffered as a child. … more and more to study! He was glad he met Cain.

“I’m sorry.” Cain reached down to help Saraki up. “That was… I’m sorry.” He repeated, ashamed of himself.

Saraki couldn’t place Cain’s emotions. He could still see the traces of anger and regret, but there was something else… resignation?

“It’s not the first time a patient has attacked me.” Saraki took Cain’s proffered hand. Cain helped him stand. As Saraki got to his feet, he smiled. “And it won’t be the last I wager.”

“Still, I’m sorry.” He meant it.

Saraki grinned. “You’re forgiven.” Saraki pat Cain’s hand then sat on his stool. “I could’ve broken the news better.”

Christopher collapsed on the rubber mattress, head in his hands. “Is it possible you’re wrong?”

“Of course it is, but it’s my only working theory.”

“Okay…” Cain screwed his eyes shut as Hitomi continued chirping softly in his ear.

It’ll be okay.

Saraki grimaced. He could no longer deny it. He was hearing the voices again. They’d been getting worse ever since he’d met that little black dragon. He’d have to restart his treatment.

I love you.

“What you may have.” Saraki continued despite the voices’ best efforts at distraction. “Is something I’ve never encountered before. I call it Broken Quirk Syndrome.”

“I’ve read your paper on it.” Cain acknowledged. It was a lazy acknowledgment like he’d made the connection as soon as Saraki explained what had happened to him. “I thought it was just a theory.”

“Hypothesis.” Saraki corrected. He was barely surprised that Cain read his paper, the boy was a glutton for knowledge. It was an admirable quality. “If you have it, which I think you do, you would be the first person we’ve ever treated with this condition. Perhaps we’ll even call it Cain Syndrome!”

Cain laughed bitterly. “Excuse me if I don’t leap for joy at that.”

“Hmmm,” Saraki frowned, why wouldn’t he? Getting a condition named after you was immortality! His name would forever be associated with a monumental advance in quirk theory! Shouldn’t he be excited?!

“Well, I understand that.” Saraki lied. “But I do want to emphasize I have no idea how to treat you. Everything from here will be ‘by the seat of our pants.’ Completely experimental!”

Exciting!

“… I understand.”

“Good, now… why don’t you go home?” Saraki deflated. Cain’s lack of enthusiasm was a real downer. Besides, he didn’t think Cain would be good for much more today. “I have some treatments to design. I’ll see you next week.”

“Right.” Cain left the room without another word. Hitomi lingered for a moment longer.

Thanks Riku.

She flew after Cain. Saraki raised an eyebrow. Why was it only the voices around her that used his given name?

Chapter 3: Mirror

Christopher walked through the QRS’s main hall. The thunderous halogen lights screamed in his ears. White-clothed doctors and lab techs milled around him. He’d been here long enough that they recognized him as Saraki’s pet project, and thus gave him a wide berth. He didn’t notice. He was listless.

Hitomi settled into her necklace form around Christopher’s neck. She gave gentle comforting squeezes. They didn’t help.

Christopher walked past the interred patients. Absolute Zero,–

–a little girl who could leech thermal energy within an area, played dolls with an older woman in her padded cell. The older woman, another patient called Reaper’s Kiss–

–played with the girl joyously. She seemed grateful for the first social contact she’d had in years.

Christopher walked past Contagion.

The man was still in a straight jacket, his eyes lifeless and hollow as they followed Christopher’s downcast figure through his door’s viewport.

That brought Christopher to the last patient on the floor. He stopped at the door as was his wont. Even today, he couldn’t help but peer inside. A young woman kept in a medically induced coma lay on a hospital bed. She was 0–

– no, not 0. That was what Saraki called her. She had a name… Kiera Konna. It was Christopher's fault she was here. She’d been a criminal, sure. She tried to rob a bank. Ryusei’d caught her, but Christopher had been the one to identify her to Saraki.

It was his fault she was here. Saraki’s words rang in his head: “A child who CHOSE to forget.” Christopher clenched his fist. His shoulders slumped. A void existed in his memory where a mother should be. A lot of things were his fault.

He walked away.

---

Dr. Saraki sat in his office chair rubbing his neck. “Why do they always go after the neck?”

Dr. Monosuke sat across from him on a rickety wooden chair. “Demonstration of power.”

“For my benefit or theirs?”

“Yes.”

“Such a dull explanation. Can’t it be something more exciting?”

“The world is usually dull.”

“So it is, well, looks like Cain left the building.” Saraki glanced at his monitor. A downcast Cain was walking out the front doors. “I thought he’d be excited knowing what was wrong with him.”

“No, it’s understandable, you pushed him too far.”

“It was necessary, now we know what happens he’s pushed over the edge.”

“I could’ve told you his response from a cursory psychological examination.”

“… well now we know what Hitomi does.” Saraki deflected lamely.

Monosuke sighed. Saraki reached into his desk. He pulled out a jar of pills, with an alias on the label, and a bottle of water. Monosuke raised an eyebrow.

“The voices?”

“Yes.” Saraki swallowed a handful of mismatched antipsychotics. He drank his water. A horse-sized pill squirmed its way down his gullet.

Saraki wiped a droplet from his chin. “It’s been getting worse since I started treating Cain.”

“Did you stop taking your medicine?”

“…” Saraki frowned. Had he? He couldn’t remember. One of his illnesses was tricky like that, fooling him into believing he’d taken his medication when he hadn’t. If only he could put himself under Requests. He put his pill jar away. “Maybe.”

“You know that’s not how medication works,” Monosuke warned.

“Yes, I have an M.D. behind my name same as you.” Saraki fired back.

“You’re not a doctor when it comes to you, you’re a patient.”

Saraki, bored with the conversation, glanced at his monitor again. He froze.

“Saraki I’m serious– wait, what’s wrong?”

Without a word, Saraki turned the monitor towards Monosuke so he could see a red-haired heroine enter the lobby and a gray-skinned woman wait by the door, one of her sidekicks no doubt.

“… is that Rosethorn?”

Saraki sighed, there was only one reason she could be here. He just wondered who blabbed about Cain’s treatment. Was it Cain? One of his techs? He’d have to find out later. His phone rang. He knew it was the front desk.

Saraki and Monosuke stared at the phone.

“… you gonna answer that?”

“I would rather not.”

“I’d rather you talk to her upstairs than she comes down here.”

“Ugh…”

“It’s not like we’ve done anything to Cain yet right?”

“True, but she might not believe that.”

“Well, you could always use your quirk…”

“She’s resistant.”

“She is?”

“Don’t ask me why, she’s never agreed to be studied.”

“We could have 0 set her interest to 0…”

“…”

“What?”

“0’s been intransigent lately.”

“Hrm?”

“Well, on a whim I decided to do a good deed.” Saraki ignored the ringing phone as he told Monosuke his tale. “You remember that cult in Africa? The one that’s gaining a foothold in Japan?”

“The Red Finger?”

“The same, I asked her to set the cult to 0.”

“Why?”

“Well, they have a nasty habit of recruiting interesting quirks wherever they go….”

“I get it, they’re competition. So, what happened?”

“She didn’t do it.”

“You made it a Request?”

“Of course!”

“… that’s troubling.”

“She said she was trying, but…”

“She has to be lying.”

“Indeed and if she’s somehow gained resistance to my Requests, she’s simply not safe to take out of a coma again. I suppose we’ll have to terminate her soon. Which is unfortunate.”

“…”

“You have another thought?”

“What if the quirks of the Red Finger are somehow resisting her?”

“She’s never had an issue killing quirked targets before.”

The phone stopped ringing.

“True, but have we ever set her after a first-class or even a complex quirk before?”

“Hrm… no…” Saraki admitted. “It wouldn’t be the first time a target’s quirk strength determined the efficacy of another quirk. Still, how could we test this hypothesis? I’d rather not risk taking her out of a coma at all if she’s resisting my Requests.”

“We could test it out on Rosethorn.”

“Too risky, a top 10 suddenly drops dead and–and she’s on our floor. So, too late.” Saraki watched as Rosethorn pulled the elevator doors open and walked into the QRS’s secret lab. He mentally cursed the Hero Association for insisting this place be disclosed to the top 10. Just a few years ago Saurus had been here making sure mutants weren’t being unfairly persecuted.

Saurus had not appreciated Saraki’s calm and reasoned explanation that mutant quirks were very rarely interesting enough to warrant treatment. Even listing Saurus as one of the exceptions did little to cool the, at the time, no. 6 hero’s temper.

“… should I go?”

“No,” Saraki remembered Saurus’s visit. “I might need a witness.”

The door flung open and the number 10 hero in Japan stormed in. Her red hair billowed behind her like a cape of fire. Monosuke scrambled out of his chair as the heroine claimed it without invitation.

Saraki raised an eyebrow at her display. He looked at the poor, displaced Monosuke. “That was unfathomably rude.”

“My apologies for coming in unannounced,” Rosethorn responded icily. She ignored the trembling Monosuke. Saraki could almost taste the rage rolling off of her. He wondered if it was an effect of her quirk…. “I’ve come to inquire about one of my students that I believe you’ve been treating without authorization.”

“Hrm? I don’t think I have a student here.” Saraki leaned back. He was feeling anxious. Maybe she was projecting fear into her voice? Fascinating. He thought she could only energize or de-energize… THAT’S IT! She was energizing in a way that induced anxiety! Brilliant! Oh, how he wished he could study her.

“Don’t play dumb with me. I saw Christopher Cain leave this building. I know you’re treating him.”

“Ah, I understand the confusion, he’s not a full-time patient you see. He just comes in on Sundays of his own volition.”

“I doubt you’ve given him a choice in the matter.”

“Then ask him. I have not even put him under a single Request… well, other than that time I told him not to copy 0, but you were present for that.”

Rosethorn paused at this. Despite herself, she felt Saraki was being sincere when he said he hadn’t made another Request of Christopher. Which meant Christopher was coming here of his own will. Still… she couldn’t just leave her student in the hands of this… thing. “Whatever you’re doing, back off. He doesn’t need your kind of help.”

“Oh, but he does.” Saraki beamed. “And he wants my help. Desperately. Even if you tell him to stop, he’d keep coming here.”

Rosethorn’s eyes narrowed. She didn’t believe him, but he didn’t seem to be lying. What was she missing? “And what, pray tell, are you helping him with?”

“I have a duty to confidentiality. If you want to know what his issue is, you’ll have to ask him yourself.”

Rosethorn stood. She looked like she wanted to come across the desk and throttle him, but she kept her temper much better than her student had. “I’ll be reporting this to the association and recommend you be replaced.”

“You and every other top 10 that’s met me.” Saraki spun lazily in his chair, bored.

Rosethorn glared at him. He had to be lying. The weight of a top 10 hero’s word couldn’t be overestimated. She couldn’t fathom that the Hero Association would turn a blind eye to this thing if every top 10 that’d run into him recommended he be replaced.

Saraki stopped spinning in his chair facing his monitor. He needed to get back to work. “You can leave now, I have work to do and I trust you’ll want to talk with Cain.”

Saraki felt a hand grab the back of his chair. He was spun around and forced to face Rosethorn. Her eyes were a cold pit of rage.

“Don’t think you’re untouchable just because no one’s done something about you yet.”

Saraki opened his mouth, but Rosethorn didn’t give him a chance to respond. Her hand clasped his shoulder. She squeezed. He heard a pop. He flinched. She continued.

“The only thing I’ve been waiting for since I found out about your little horror show is an excuse. If you hurt Cain-kun, I’ll have it.”

Saraki smiled placatingly. He ignored that primal cold feeling in his stomach her threats elicited. It was... difficult to face someone resistant to his quirk. “You misunderstand me. Cain doesn’t have the sort of complication that could lead to termination. He’s just…” Saraki glanced at Monosuke, the other doctor was hiding in the corner, his eyes locked on the exchange. Saraki sneered up at Rosethorn, newly emboldened by the reminder he had a witness. “… interesting.”

Rosethorn held his gaze. Her eyes hardened as she met Saraki’s smile. “I’ll be talking to Cain-kun today. If you threatened him…”

“Yes, yes, you’ll risk your career to shut me down.” Saraki sighed, the cold feeling in his stomach already forgotten. He didn’t believe she actually would. She had too much to lose. “Are we done?”

Rosethorn frowned deeply. She felt that he didn’t believe her, but she knew mere words wouldn’t convince him. She turned away abruptly. She walked to the door, her eyes passing over Monosuke’s hiding place without a hint of acknowledgment.

“I’ll be watching.” Rosethorn left.

Monosuke shook his head slowly. “Gods.”

“She was rather angry.” Saraki mused as he watched his monitor. He saw Rosethorn enter the elevator. He let out an involuntary sigh of relief. Soon she’d be at the lobby, meet that gray-skinned woman, and leave.

“I did have a thought while she was assaulting me.” Saraki rubbed the shoulder Rosethorn had squeezed. His collarbone was probably broken.

“Oh?” Monosuke breathed as he returned to his seat.

“How would you repair something that’s broken?”

“… it would depend on what’s broken. Where are you going with this?”

Saraki traced a finger along his collarbone, looking for the fracture. “Well, in the case of a bone, you have to break it again yes?”

“If it’s healed wrong, sure….”

“And I wonder… what if ‘broken quirk’ is a misnomer? What is a broken quirk if not a quirk that healed wrong from its awakening?”

Monosuke caught on. “I see, so to fix a broken quirk, we need to break it again.”

“Exactly.”

“It makes sense, but that begs a question. How can we break a quirk?”

Chapter 4: Student

Christopher walked into his bedroom. Hitomi sat on his shoulder glancing at him worriedly. He stood in front of his bed. He stared at the pillow. He wanted to crawl into bed and die.

---

Hitomi chirped in his ear worriedly.

“I’m fine.” Christopher lied.

Hitomi stretched out her neck so she could look the boy in the eye. Her eyes told the story of a little boy who thought he was a good liar but could never convince the little black dragon on his shoulder.

“… why shouldn’t I be?” Christopher asked the little black dragon. “At least I know what’s wrong right?” He didn’t even know that truth be told. Broken Quirk Syndrome was just a hypothetical condition. Saraki himself had admitted he may be wrong.

Hitomi sighed in his face. As if asking why he wouldn’t open up to the one thing on this earth that couldn’t break his confidence.

Christopher, usually a master at reading Hitomi’s expressions, wasn’t paying attention. He sat on his bed. “Do you think Inigo and Gigan have to talk like this?”

Hitomi tilted her head.

“I mean, they always seem so in sync, it’s almost like their interactions are performative,” Christopher explained. “like Gigan hitting him on the head with a rubber mallet is for the benefit of others so that Inigo can communicate what’s going on in his head. You think so too right?”

Hitomi’s brow furrowed. She didn’t think so. She couldn’t fathom why he was talking like this.

“I’m just… is it my fault we have to talk?” Christopher asked. “Did I copy Gigan wrong?”

“…” He wasn’t talking about copying Gigan was he?

“It’s my fault right?” Christopher smiled. It wasn’t a real smile.

Hitomi’s eyes flashed with indignation and she unleashed a yell.

---

Hitomi chirped an angry chirp. There was something she wanted to say. Something she needed to say.

“I can’t understand you right now.” Christopher picked Hitomi up. The little black dragon shrank so she could fit in the palm of his hand. “I can usually get by based on your expressions, but whatever you’re trying to say is too complicated. Inigo and Gigan seem to just… talk. I wish we could right now.”

---

Hitomi sighed again. She wished they could talk too.

---

Christopher looked at his bookshelf. The one filled with binders and names. Each one was filled with his interactions with every classmate, friend, and teacher. In those binders were every inside joke, story, and secret. They contained everything someone without a broken quirk would be expected to remember. As he stared at those binders. He saw all the hours he’d poured into making them. Those carefree nights he could’ve had instead spent writing down memories no one else would fear losing. Efforts to preserve moments always in danger of being lost forever. He hoped forgetting one month had been worth all these years of uncertainty and regret.

“I could... use someone to talk to,” Christopher confessed. Hitomi stroked his hair gently. He leaned into her claw. It was comforting, but not what he needed. He needed someone not just to listen but give him feedback. He needed help. He needed to know what the Hell he was feeling. There wasn’t anyone available. He couldn’t tell Ryusei about Saraki without it getting back to Rosethorn. Inigo, Yui, Sally, and Kaylee were in Osaka. Faith was in Korea. Imai and Orochi were in Kyoto but they were doing some night opp with Seiryu tonight. And Dad was in Tokyo sleeping at the office in preparation for some big corruption case. He could call someone… but that wouldn’t cut it. He knew how the call would go. They’d just end up talking about their day and, eventually, while he still struggled to broach the topic that was bothering him, something’d come up and they’d need to hang up. He couldn’t risk a premature end to this conversation. He’d never try again. He needed someone here. He needed someone to come, ring his doorbell and–

The doorbell rang. Christopher jumped.

Hitomi flew towards the door in a flash.

“Hitomi!” Christopher called after her. Too late, she was around the corner heading for the door. Christopher scrambled after her. Blowing around the corner, he stopped dead as he saw Hitomi open the door revealing a tall red-haired woman. She glanced at the dragon, an eyebrow raised. The dragon saluted the woman.

“R-Rosethorn-sensei?” Christopher ventured, not quite believing what he was seeing. Why was she–

Rosethorn’s eyes locked on Christopher. Her gaze hardened. “Cain-ku–” she stopped as soon as her eyes met his, suddenly alarmed. Maybe Christopher trembled. Maybe there was a shine in his eyes from unshed tears. Maybe his voice just sounded like he’d been crying to Rosethorn’s ears. Christopher himself couldn’t say what his body was doing right now. Whatever he did to make plain his state of mind, her stern demeanor was immediately overwhelmed by concern. She crossed the room in an instant. Before Christopher could react she forced him to look down at her. Her hands cupped his face as she inspected his eyes carefully.

“Did he hurt you?”

“What?”

“Did. He. Hurt. You?”

“Who?”

“Saraki.”

Christopher blinked. She knew. “How do you–”

“Never mind how,” Rosethorn interrupted her voice almost trembling with anger. “answer the question. Did he hurt you?”

“I–No. He didn’t hurt me.” Even Christopher could hear the warble in his voice now.

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not!” The denial almost sounded like a whine.

Rosethorn didn’t let go of his face immediately. She searched his eyes for any sign of deception or, worse, forced denial. Christopher, despite himself, felt comforted by her touch. It was nice in a way; being reminded someone cared enough to be angry with you.

When she saw no signs of deception in Christopher’s eyes, forced or otherwise, Rosethorn relaxed. “Alright,” She let go of him. “I’m sorry if I scared you Cain-kun.”

“You didn’t,” Christopher assured her. If anything her concern was… comforting.

There was a moment of silence between the two. Neither knew where to go from here. Rosethorn’s prepared tirade had been derailed by the idea of Saraki hurting one of her students and Christopher was in too conflicted a state to know what to say to her.

“We need to–”

When Rosethorn tried to speak again, she was interrupted by the sound of a faucet turning on. Christopher turned to see Hitomi pouring water into the tea kettle, humming happily. He turned back to Rosethorn with a sheepish expression.

“Would you like some tea?”

---

Rosethorn smiled tightly. She wanted to laugh at how poorly her plan had been going. She’d come here to deliver discipline and ultimatums, but after seeing how upset Christopher had been... she didn’t have the heart for it. She had no idea what to say and having time to frame her concerns over tea was appealing. “I’d love some.”

As the pair, teacher and student sat at the table, Hitomi rushed over and put tea cups before them both. The little dragon rushed about the kitchen, retrieving honey, sugar (white and brown) anything one could want in their tea. It was a little extravagant. She looked at Christopher wondering if he was going to stop his little construct.

Christopher shrugged helplessly.

“Inigo’s?”

“Yeah.”

“You copied it for the license exam, right? I’m surprised you’ve held onto it this long.”

“…” Christopher averted his eyes.

“…” Rosethorn waited for him to say something. It seemed like he wanted to, but when he didn’t, she sighed. “I have to apologize.”

Christopher looked up at her sharply. “What for?”

“For introducing you to Saraki. I never dreamed he’d… want to treat you.” Rosethorn explained. She remembered the day well. Ryusei was in the Hospital with a minor injury. Christopher was visiting his mentor. They’d captured someone of interest to Dr. Saraki. Someone Saraki needed Christopher’s help identifying. Someone Saraki just called ‘0.’

Foolishly, Rosethorn had thought it relatively harmless to let Christopher help identify an extremely dangerous quirk user. She’d been there the entire time. She’d made sure Saraki didn’t plant a suggestion to visit him. She thought that meeting would be the last time Christopher’d be in the same room with that monster. She should’ve known better. Every quirk mimic on record could only use one quirk at a time. Christopher could use two. It didn’t take a genius to figure out Saraki would find that interesting. She should’ve thought of that. She hadn’t.

Rosethorn knew why the obvious risk hadn’t occurred to her. She’d been proud of Christopher. He’d helped Ryusei take down half a dozen armed criminals, some with powerful quirks, without any support. And then acquitted himself beautifully in the interview that followed. A part of her had wanted to show him off. She just wished she’d chosen her audience better.

“If my introducing him to you seemed like an endorsement, please understand it was not. He’s…” Rosethorn felt silly saying the next. It seemed almost childish to call him what he was, but it was the only word for something like him. “… a monster.”

“… I know.”

Rosethorn blinked. “You do?”

Christopher nodded jerkily.

“Then why–”

The hiss of the tea kettle interrupted Rosethorn. The little black dragon went over and removed the tea kettle from the burner. She flitted around the room again, putting a tea bag in Rosethorn’s and Christopher’s cups before pouring the boiling water.

Rosethorn stared at Christopher the entire time. He avoided looking at her. He knew. He wasn’t under some delusion that Saraki was a trustworthy person. He understood just how dangerous and inhuman that toad was. If he did know, he wouldn’t be seeing him just to let Saraki satisfy his curiosity about multiple quirks. Which begged a question.

“Why?”

Hitomi finished pouring the hot water over the tea bags. She sat between the two of them. A little cup appeared before her and she poured herself some tea. The little dragon drank the tea and unleashed a sigh.

“…” Christopher wouldn’t look at his teacher, nor would he speak.

“Why are you seeing him Cain-kun?”

“…” Christopher didn’t answer.

Rosethorn frowned. “Is your quirk so bad?”

Christopher’s lips tightened. The answer was clear enough.

Rosethorn watched his expression. If it was that bad–if he felt like he needed to treat it to be a hero then... It broke her heart to suggest it. She saw so much potential in Christopher as a hero, but if she was forced to choose between seeing him become a hero and seeing him safe... her choice was clear. She’d break it to him gently. “Have you considered… a different career?”

Christopher looked at her, his expression somewhere between outrage and terror.

Rosethorn pressed forward. “If the only way you feel confident about being a hero is going to Saraki… then it’s not worth it.” She prodded gently. “The longer you’re being treated by him, the more dangerous it becomes.”

Christopher shook his head vigorously. “No, that’s not–”

“I don’t want to see you hurt again Cain-kun. You’ve had enough of that this year for a lifetime.”

“I–”

“Being a hero isn’t the end all be all you think it is. With your mind, you could do great things outside of hero work. You could become a scientist, or maybe a lawyer like your father. There are other ways to help people.”

Christopher shook his head harder. It was like he couldn’t fathom a different dream. Rosethorn’s chest tightened, she’d been in his position once, and she knew what it was like to be told your dreams might not be worth it. However… she felt it was her duty not just as his teacher, but as a person to get him away from Saraki.

“You’re wr–”

“Cain-kun it’s fine.” It wasn’t. “Not everyone is suited for–”

Hitomi set down her tea cup with a cacophonous clang. Rosethorn looked at the little dragon. Hitomi glared back at her. At first, Rosethorn was indignant, she hadn’t said a thing wrong. However, Hitomi’s held met her glare. The gaze was firm, the look of a debate monitor when you’d overstepped your time limit. It was like the dragon was saying ‘Let him speak.’

Rosethorn looked up at Cain-kun. He was struggling to find the words, but she felt they’d come. Maybe the dragon was right, she should, as a teacher, at least hear her students’ side.

“I’m not getting treated because I want to be a hero.” Christopher finally confessed.

“Excuse me?”

“I–” Christopher paused again. This time Rosethorn didn’t interrupt. “My quirk doesn’t affect me as a hero, but as a person. The damage it’s done it’s…. I need to be better.”

Christopher couldn’t say more. Maybe he just couldn’t bring himself to talk about it right now. Maybe he thought knowing his issue would change how she saw him. It didn’t matter why. If it wasn’t about hero work, and Rosethorn didn’t think he was lying, changing careers wouldn’t do anything. He’d still see Saraki.

Rosethorn couldn’t do much if that was the case. Getting treatment from Saraki, while dangerous, wasn’t against the rules. Forbidding students from interacting with a lawful government entity was… untenable. It wouldn’t even be the first time Shiketsu had a student being treated by the mad doctor. It was just a first for Rosethorn. Even expulsion (which she couldn’t do over this) wouldn’t protect him. Christopher’s father was in Japan on a work visa. She doubted Christopher would have to do more than change schools to stay in Japan and, if Saraki helped, which he would, he wouldn’t have a problem doing that. All expulsion would do is take Christopher away from his friends and out of her protection.

Rosethorn didn’t know what to do. Whatever his quirk’s issue was it didn’t seem to affect his performance in the field or in school (which were both exemplary). Given his reticence to share, his quirk was probably causing an issue with his personal life. Perhaps it was suppressing his empathy and compelling him to see others just for their quirks. That WOULD match his behavior early in the year. She remembered when she first met him and his version of ‘hello’ was to copy a quirk, loudly ask/ complain about it, then walk away while jotting down notes.

Christopher wasn’t breaking any rules by seeing Saraki, so Rosethorn couldn’t discipline him. His course work wasn’t suffering either, so she couldn’t use that excuse. She could ask him to stop, but that was just a toothless request. What could she do to protect her student from someone on the right side of the law?

Suddenly, Christopher’s phone rang.

“Sorry,” Christopher muttered as he checked the caller ID. He paused. “I have to take this.”

“Go ahead.” Rosethorn allowed, a bit grateful for the time to think more.

Christopher answered the phone in English. <“Hey Kaylee.”>

Rosethorn raised an eyebrow. Kaylee?

<“Yeah, I’m home. Thanks for checking. Right, next week same time. … ‘Green apples.’”> Christopher hung up the phone.

“Sorry…”

“… may I ask what that was? <‘Green apples?’>”

“I asked Kaylee to check up on me on the days I see Saraki.”

Rosethorn’s eyes widened, the kernel of an idea forming.

“Green apples is our code word for ‘nothing bad happened.’ If I don’t answer, or I say ‘red apples’ she’s supposed to call you and let you know where I am.” Christopher explained, oblivious to the wheels turning in his teacher’s head. He looked at her. “I know… what Saraki is ma’am. I get it. I’m trying my hardest not to be stupid about it and it’s not your fault or anyone else’s I’m seeing him. I just….”

Christopher didn’t need to finish, Rosethorn knew he’d just repeat what he said before, ‘I just want to get better.’ It really did sound like his quirk was affecting how he saw people... poor boy. If that really was the case, he should get help for it. Fortunately, his conversation with Kaylee had given her an idea. An idea that’d let her protect her student and let him get the treatment he seemed so desperate for.

“I’m relieved you’re taking it seriously at least.” Rosethorn began.

“I don’t want to be hurt again either.” Christopher managed a weak smile. “Hospital food sucks.”

Rosethorn unleashed a dry laugh at that. “It does…” She leaned forward. “Are you sure I can’t convince you to stop seeing him?”

“… sorry.”

“Even if it might mean you can’t be my student anymore?”

Christopher met her eyes. The thought hurt him deeply, “I’d really miss you and my friends, but I need to do this.”

Rosethorn’s eyes softened. She’d miss him too. “What days do you see Saraki?”

“Sundays.”

“Time?”

“10 am. I’m usually there until 4 pm.”

“Then either Ryusei or I will be in the lobby until you get out.” Rosethorn declared. She’d have to get Ryusei some earplugs so he wasn’t at risk from Saraki’s Requests, but that was a paltry expense. “If you’re even a minute late, we’re coming down to get you.”

Christopher’s eyes widened. “You don’t have to–”

“This is non-negotiable.” Rosethorn interrupted sharply. “As long as you’re my student, you’re my responsibility. Whether you’re seeing Saraki or not.”

“… so I do get to stay your student?” Christopher’s voice didn’t quite tremble, but it was close.

“Yes, Cain-kun.” Rosethorn grimaced. She hadn’t meant to scare him THAT much. “You get to stay my student.”

“Even though I’m not telling you why I’m seeing Saraki?”

Rosethorn waved a hand. “Despite what you may think, embarrassing issues with one’s quirk aren’t uncommon in the hero world. I wish you’d trust me enough to open up and I want you to know I’m here to listen, but I’m not going to force your confidence to stay in Shiketsu.” She glanced at Hitomi, at the black dragon sipping her tea, at the quirk he’d held onto for months. She wondered why he’d hold onto a quirk this long. Does something happen when he drops a quirk? Maybe he’d gain an overwhelming desire to use another person’s quirk? Or, maybe this was his attempt to learn to value other people by learning to value his friend’s quirk? It didn’t matter right now. She didn’t want to pressure Cain, not today anyway.

“I do trust you.” Christopher protested lamely.

“But not enough?”

“It’s not a matter of trust it’s… it’s just weird. I don’t want you to think less of me or–”

“Alright.” Rosethorn raised a hand to forestall his excuses. The pieces were starting to fall into place for her. At this point, she was convinced his quirk must drive him to see others only for their quirks. It was sweet that he was risking so much to overcome that. Now she could, in good conscience, let him get that issue treated. She had a plan to protect him and, loathe as she was to admit it, he was seeing the person most able to help him overcome his quirk’s issue.

“Just let me know if the issue becomes too much for you to keep in alright? I am here for you.”

Christopher nodded shyly. He knew she meant it. Good. “Thanks, sensei.”

Rosethorn grinned and finally clasped the teacup in front of her with both hands. She drank the tea. It was a little lukewarm, from sitting on the table for so long, but it was delicious and very familiar. She looked at the little black dragon who looked back at her warmly.

“Your little dragon knows how to brew a cup of tea.” Rosethorn’s eyes sparkled, knowing it was Christopher directing the construct’s hands.

“Really?” Christopher took a sip. “Huh… she does.”

“It’s a little nostalgic.” Rosethorn sipped her tea. She was amused by Christopher’s modesty, giving the construct credit. His mother must’ve taught him how to make this.

“Nostalgic?”

Rosethorn smirked coyly. “There was a girl I met during my first attempt at the provisional license exam. After we became pros, we’d meet for tea whenever we happened to be in the same city. She made tea like this.”

“A friend?” The hint flew right over Christopher’s head.

“No!” Rosethorn laughed. “No, not at all. She and I were well, she’d call us ‘rivals.’” Rosethorn giggled.

Hitomi hid her ears.

“She? But not you huh?”

“She was a bit of a chuunibyou, truth be told. I considered us friendly acquaintances.” Rosethorn sighed. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the small Butsudan dedicated to Christopher’s mother. It was clumsily set up. James Cain was an Irish Catholic. He made an admirable, if awkward, attempt to honor his late wife according to her culture. A simple picture of Hitomi Cain was set within the modest wooden edifice. A sloppily done calligraphy scroll that displayed her name was set behind the picture. There was no Tori gate present, if she was actually in that shrine she’d be free to wander the home as she pleased.

Hitomi followed Rosethorn’s gaze.

Rosethorn looked back at Christopher. He hadn’t noticed her attention shift. She never knew how to broach the topic of his mother. From the time she heard his real thoughts on how his mother died when discussing his first essay all those months ago, she felt like he was still in deep mourning. She didn’t know if telling him stories about Hitomi would help or hurt him. Now, definitely felt like the wrong time to broach the subject. Especially since he didn’t connect her comments about the tea with his mother. He must still be so distraught.

“I do miss her,” Rosethorn confessed. “even if she wasn’t my friend, I did look forward to our meetings.”

Hitomi chirped sadly as if sympathizing with Rosethorn’s loss. Even if the one who was most affected was sitting across the table from her. Though, of course, the little dragon would have no way of knowing that.

“Wouldn’t she be a friend then?” Christopher asked suddenly.

“Excuse me?”

“If you looked forward to seeing her, if you enjoyed her company and you miss her now that she’s gone, isn’t that a friend?”

“… maybe she was.”

Hitomi grinned up at Rosethorn.

Rosethorn sighed. She finished her tea. Maybe they had been friends. Too bad it was only two years after Hitomi was gone that the idea was suggested. Maybe things could’ve been different. She changed the subject. “Where do you want to meet us on Sundays?”

“What about in front of the QRS building?”

“Mmm, no, the station nearest, I don’t want Saraki to pressure you to go in before Ryusei or I get there. Just in case we’re running late.”

“Alright.” Christopher conceded. “At 9:45 am?”

“Give Ryusei until 10 please, you know how he is.”

Christopher smiled. He did.

Rosethorn stood. “I’ll see you on Sunday then Cain-kun.”

Christopher stood as well. “I’ll walk you out.”

“Aren’t you a gentleman? But no, don’t trouble yourself. Just rest, you have patrol with Ryusei in the morning.”

“Okay… thanks. For everything.”

Rosethorn beamed. “Anytime Cain-kun and please,” she crossed the room and put her hand on his shoulder. “If Saraki ever threatens you, or worse, hurts you.”

“You’ll be my first call,” Christopher promised.

“Good.” Rosethorn released Christopher’s choulder. He suddenly hugged her. Rosethorn froze at the unexpected gesture. Then she grinned widely and hugged him back. He’d have never done this at the beginning of the year. Maybe Saraki’s treatment really was helping.

“Thanks… again. For everything.” Christopher mumbled, his tone indicating he was just as surprised by his actions as she was.

“Of course.”

After a time, Christopher released her sheepishly. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, I’ll see you Sunday.” She turned and walked to the door.

As Rosethorn reached for the handle, Hitomi landed on her shoulder. She raised an eyebrow at the little dragon. It looked at her with an expression Rosethorn couldn’t quite place… maybe gratitude?

“You’re welcome,” Rosethorn whispered. That seemed to be the right thing to say. The dragon nodded gravely, then flitted back to Christopher.

Rosethorn spared one last glance to her friend’s shrine, then left the apartment.