A/N: I've got intense ambitions but we'll see how it goes. Anyway, there's swearing, modern-ish slang talk (which is surprisingly fun to write), multiple OCs (but not too many, I hope), cases of deliberate OOC due to the existence of OCs and doing things like creating dynamics (I'll still try to keep the spirit of their character intact), plot, subplots and questionable morality. (Still undecided about romance.) So, yeah. Enjoy?

✖‿✖

"So, apparently, armband tattoos that're solid black are, like, meant to symbolise mourning or something."

Riku elicits a long, drawn-out sigh as though he's internally questioning his eternal friendship with her and why he ever listens to anything she says. (It's because he doesn't have a choice in the matter, but she's pretty sure he already knows that.) "Fantastic, Kou," he deadpans, pushing up his rimless glasses in order to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Who the fuck are we mourning, then? Each other?"

She glances down at her right bicep, where three thick bands of solid black have been tattooed onto her pale-ass skin. Though it's still fairly recent, her skin's healed much faster than Riku or Aoi's; mostly because it's not that hard to use her Quirk to speed the process along. Minor wounds don't cost as much energy.

"Well, I mean, we could just stick with the original intent and ignore this fascinating tidbit of information," Kou returns, lifting her arm and admiring the way it calls attention to the definition of her muscles. Much cool, very nice. "Right, Aoi?"

"Yes," Aoi quietly agrees, not bothering to look at her because staring at the strangers around them is more interesting. He absently adjusts the earphone that's about to fall out of his elf ear and she picks out a white bit of fluff that's clinging to his hair. Really obvious against the denim blue shade, so it's been bothering the shit out of her. "Though, we can say that we're pre-emptively mourning one another in case any of us die in the future."

"That's fucked up," Riku frowns, leaning forward to grab his Grape Fanta from the table, "but admittedly plausible. Considering our aspirations, I wouldn't be surprised if at least one of us dies before we reach the age of forty. It'd probably be better to just stick with the sappy truth, though." He elicits a put-upon sigh at this, as if it's such a great burden to his being. "Saying that we got matching tattoos because we're waiting for each other to die is depressing and weird."

As she devours her fourth cheeseburger, Kou nearly snorts it out and earns herself a vaguely disgusted sneer from the best buddy-pal sitting across from her. "What, sappy? Is the Power of Friendship and our combined badassery not manly enough for you, man?" After the finishing bite of her burger, she smiles at him ̶ also known as baring her upper teeth because genetics dictated that she would be born with a literal smile stuck to her face ̶ and hopes there's nothing in between her teeth. She checks with her tongue, anyway.

"You disgust me." He flicks a French fry at her in retaliation for her sass and uncouth behaviour. The joke's on him because she catches it in her mouth and proceeds to steal the rest of his French fries. This then forces him to start an impromptu staring competition to establish dominance; Riku's Resting Bitch Face against Kou's Perpetually High Face. He will, of course, lose; they both know that she doesn't need to blink as much as he does.

However, he's saved from the bitter clutches of inevitable defeat when Aoi interrupts their battle with, "Bakugou also passed the entrance exam, right?"

At the mention of his cousin, Riku's natural frown becomes even more pronounced. "Unsurprisingly," is his eventual answer, glancing at a woman casually walking by. A child clings to her leg and hisses at anything that moves; which is everything, because they're at a food court. The little spawn hisses at him as well, and soon realises its mistake when Riku narrows his eyes at it in challenge. "He came first. No fucking Rescue Points, either; typical. I managed to tie for second with some other dude, though. What's actually surprising is that Izuku actually managed to place seventh with only Rescue Points."

"Who?" Kou questions, just as her phone vibrates and she pulls it out to check her inbox. She's greeted with the familiar, beloved image of Derp-Faced Pug Puppy as her phone screen lights up before she types in her password.

"Deku," Riku clarifies with a hard sigh. "The dude with the unruly hair and freckled face that Katsuki irrationally abhors because he's an egotistical asshole."

"Ah," she snaps her fingers in recognition, "that's right. I forgot his actual name. He has the green hair, right?" Or, well, darker green hair. Riku's hair is lighter ̶ fern-green, if she's to be specific, because she knows about the colourful shit ̶ and notably longer despite how often he hides it underneath his hipster beanie. Less curly and all that, too; more, the tips of his hair spike out against his will and make him look like a taller, tanner, green-haired version of his mother. "I thought he was Quirkless? Didn't you have to, like, fight giant robots?"

Today, 2:21 pm

Pop Rocks: Bought Dead Punches 2. Be here in an hour, bitch, I'm going to fuck you up this time.

Of course, it's Pop Rocks issuing another challenge because he's a salty bitch who can't accept that she's superior at video games. It helps that she doesn't destroy her controller via sweaty hands of nitro-glycerine or whatever, nor have a tendency for hilarious rage-quitting once he's reached his limit of losing for the day. She's pretty sure that he'd make a tradition of throwing down the gauntlet in real life, but Mitsuki-oba would kick the shit out of him for instigating brawls inside the house.

(It's, like, the main reason why she rarely agrees to go places with him, really; she takes a tremendous amount of joy in denying him a proper rematch. His ever-present petulance with Kou's existence gives her life.)

"He is, and we did," Riku says in answer to her previous question. Kou lifts her head to watch him frown down at his empty burger box like it's done him some kind of baffling personal offence. He does that with most things, actually. She should probably buy more food soon or she'll be doing the same to her own burger boxes. "Not that I'm pissed off or whatever; I'm actually pretty fucking pleased he managed to shove it in Katsuki's face." Leaning back in his seat, he absently scratches his right eyebrow with his thumb. "It's just unexpected. What kind of fucking heroic deed did he do to warrant sixty Rescue Points?"

Kou hums, leaning back and bringing up one of her legs onto the seat; Aoi shifts her knee a little to accommodate the change before letting it rest on his thigh. "Maybe he rescued someone from getting crushed by one of the robots? It's bound to happen every so often," she offers after devouring a handful of French fries. "Either way, Pop Rocks was mad pissed when he heard. Was like, 'the fuck would UA want with a Quirkless cum stain like him?'"

Her phone vibrates again.

Pop Rocks: Don't you fucking ignore me, Head Change.

Her amusement must be clear on her face, since Riku sends her a frown whilst his glasses glint dramatically in the light. "You're talking to the dickhead now?" When she looks up to meet his eyes with an inquiring brow, he hisses through his teeth at her. "Your eyes light up, all fucked up and shit; like you're amused that a dog successfully did a trick," is his sneering explanation as he fixes the placement of his beanie. "It's deranged and if I didn't know you, I'd never fucking go anywhere near you. You radiate creep vibes everywhere enough normally, let alone when you have that kind of expression."

With a laugh, Kou types a response to Pop Rocks before he starts bombarding her with messages. Boy's mad impatient. "Luckily, you do know me," she replies as she stares down at her phone, "which means that you're forever tied to me because I'll never let you go, best buddy-pal."

Head Change: At the mall with my best buddy-pals. ◕3◕

Guess you're going to have to wait a while.

(｡◕‿◕｡)

"That's fucking ominous; the fuck's wrong with you?"

Aoi tilts his head, then; a sure sign that he's decided to join in on the conversation. "Is that a serious question or is it rhetorical?" he inquires, sliding his gaze from the crowd and towards the caustic teen sitting across from them. "Either way, I have a list of symptoms in regards to Kou's mental health. If you're genuinely interested, that is."

Which, he actually does, because he's a beautiful, blue-devil boy. A beautiful, blue-devil boy that spends an inordinate amount of time taking note of the world around him to formulate detailed observations about everything. She's fairly sure that he has hundreds of lists about random shit that she'll never be able to understand in any form. What Kou does know for sure, though, is that he has a rather large file compiled of her different facial expressions, favourite foods, different types of laughs and other obscure shit like that.

He's great, really. If she ever forgets her favourite food, he'll be around to back her up with her top ten.

Pop Rocks: Hour and a half, or I'll kill you.

Head Change: ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ Practice in the meantime, scrub.

You need it. (ﾟヮﾟ)

Pop Rocks: Fuck off. I'll ruin the shit out of you.

And tell that bitch-ass Riku to get more milk. Old hag forgot to get more.

She turns off the screen and pockets her phone as Riku nudges his glasses up to rub his eyes. It's amazing how such a simple gesture can inform her of how done he is with their shit. "Even after knowing you two for as long as I have, you both still manage to baffle the fuck out of me, sometimes," he mutters to himself, ignoring Aoi's curious head tilt and her mirthful chortle.

"Anyway," Kou starts after a few minutes of companionable silence, beginning to pile together the rubbish on the table onto her tray, "Pop Rocks wishes to suffer the consequences of defeat via Dead Punches Two. I feel like beating me is one of his top priorities in whatever bucket list he has."

Riku huffs, "Fine, might as well. I still have to call my parents and update them on everything." Which, weird. She's pretty sure Mitsumi-oba and Rin-oji would've called him sometime during or after graduation.

As they collectively stand and make their way to one of the bins, she debates on whether or not she should buy more food before they leave. Kou soon decides that, yes, she should, and her two best buddy-pals obediently line up with her at one of the food vendors.

"They haven't called you recently?" she questions while they wait. Riku glances at her as he casually adjusts the headphones around his neck because he's all cool and shit with his modern hip-hop vibe.

He shrugs, placing his other hand in his pants pocket. "They called to congratulate me during graduation, but they had to go shortly after," he explains, briefly glaring at a stranger that nearly smacks into his shoulder. "Something about the village they were in having bad reception."

She hums, "Makes sense." Shifting on her feet, she shoves her hands into the pockets of her sweatpants before remembering, "Also, you need to get milk."

Kou laughs when she sees the sheer amount of annoyance that abruptly appears on Riku's face. "Did that dipshit fucking drink it all again?"

. . .

. . .

"I'm back," Riku calls as he opens the entrance door to the Bakugou home. "Kou and Aoi are here, too, taking up space."

Kou lets Aoi enter first before she steps inside and closes the door behind them. "Are you calling us fat, bruh?" she queries with a grin, tempted by the idea of flinging her shoes at the back of Riku's knees. She'll have to untie the shoelaces first, though. "Because it sounds like you're calling us fat."

She can practically hear the sneer in his voice when he retorts with, "You should be, you pig." Which, true, but fortunately for the lot of them, they're all beautiful, lean muscle. High metabolisms and intense training schedules do that to people. "If you two weren't filthy fucking rich, I'm pretty sure you'd be dead already from starvation." Also true, so yay for Pro Hero wealth. It was, like, the main reason why her family ̶ as in, like, great-grandparents and shit ̶ decided to become Heroes in the first place. Death by starvation isn't fun, after all.

"Naoru would be dead, too," Aoi helpfully adds as he simply toes his shoes off with little effort. "Then tou-san and I would be irreversibly devastated. So, yes, it's good that we're not struggling via financial issues." She can feel the weight of his ̶ soft and yet somehow still piercing? ̶ gaze on her head as she kneels down to untie her shoelaces. Probably thinking about dark, alternate timelines in which she and Naoru-oji are dead and gone. He's so cute, honestly.

Her response to his statement is interrupted when Mitsuki-oba abruptly appears in the foyer. "Yo, Rikuto, welcome back!" greets the vivacious woman, adding in an affectionate and loud slap on her nephew's unmarked shoulder. She gets a vaguely irritated grunt as a response, but it's ignored as she instead focuses on her two guests. "And yo, Koukan, Aoi! It's been a while since I've seen the two of you ratbags. How goes the daily life?"

Kou raises a hand and waggles her fingers at the address, while Aoi does the same, though with less enthusiasm in his finger waggling. "Yo, Mitsuki-oba. We've been good, you know. Training and shit, like always," she replies after placing her shoes off to the side and standing back up to her full height. "But Naoru-oji and Yugami-oji have been busy with, like, UA preparations lately, right? They haven't been able to spend much alone time together, so Aoi and I were like, 'let's all have a chill time before school starts.'"

"Setting them up for a long-awaited date, are you?" Mitsuki-oba grins knowingly at her as Riku silently wanders down the hall to put away the milk and probably chat with Masaru-oji.

"You know it," Kou returns with bared upper teeth and snapping finger guns. "They say it's going to be a busy year, what with All Might becoming a teacher and all. The faculty will have their hands full with getting the media off their backs."

Technically, All Might's employment to UA is meant to be a secret until school officially starts, but she trusts Mitsuki-oba not to make a fuss. (Her uncles should also stop giving them information that's meant to be a secret, but whatever. That'd be lame.)

The older woman nods in agreement, folding her arms as she leans against the wall. "I'm not surprised. The media's always been comprised of annoying fucks, in my opinion," she remarks, lifting one hand to wave it in dismissal. "It took them three fucking months to get off Katsuki's back after that shitty sludge incident. Praising how powerful his Quirk is; how he should consider these Pro Heroes' offers of hiring him as a Sidekick in the future." Mitsuki-oba scowls, baring her teeth and really emphasising how much Pop Rocks takes after her. "Asking shit like, 'what was it like to be held captive and nearly asphyxiated by sentient sewer slime?' The fuck kind of question is that to ask a teenager who's recently gone through a traumatic event?"

Both Kou and Aoi simultaneously tilt their heads in response to the rhetorical question. There's little doubt to the fact that they're both thinking of what their guardians have said to describe the media. News reporters and journalists, in particular. Flashing lights, everyone crowding around and shouting controversial questions in hopes of an answer they can fit into their narrative. Luckily, Naoru-oji and Yugami-oji have done their best to keep her and Aoi out of the media's eyes. (Especially her. Naoru-oji becomes almost neurotic at the mere idea of the world catching wind of her 'story.' The amount of attention their family received after tou-san's death was intense enough as it was, apparently.)

"Yeah," is Kou's eventual reply. "They're high-key insensitive dicks most of the time," she shrugs in answer, putting her hands in her pockets and shifting her weight onto her other foot. "Interesting narratives override respecting boundaries. Not that I'm one to talk, really; being an insensitive dick is my way of life."

Life's more fulfilling when one gives very little shits about what society wants from them. It's also more interesting when there's a bitch boy called Pop Rocks around to be constantly shat on.

Mitsuki-oba gives an uproarious laugh at that, even pushing off the wall to smack Kou's shoulder. "You crack me up, you little turd," she huffs, reaching up to ruffle both teens' hairs and deftly avoiding Aoi's horns with a practised sort of ease. Though, they'll always remember the first time she tried and cut herself on one of the sharp tips, much to blue boy's concern.

He could lean over and someone might accidentally impale themselves on them. It's probably a legitimate point of anxiety on his end, but Kou finds the idea amusing.

Just as Mitsuki-oba's about to open her mouth to say something else, the sound of a door abruptly busting open and thudding into the wall from upstairs interrupts her. The look of offended aggravation that immediately takes over her face is something Kou will never tire of.

"Oi, you fuckin' hag!" calls Pop Rocks, his footfalls inordinately loud as he makes his way to the top of the staircase. "Stop wastin' Head Change's time, she's got other shit like losin' to me to do!"

The fiery woman whirls around so quickly that a wave of air whips both Kou and Aoi in the face. "The fuck did you just say, you little piece of shit?! Learn some fucking patience, or I'll come up there and beat your ass!"

"Fuckin' try it! I'll punch you in the goddamn tit, bitch!"

"Hah?! You little fuck!"

Aoi yawns, unruffled as always. "Are we staying for dinner?" he asks Kou as the two blondes continue to bicker amongst themselves. "It might give Naoru and tou-san the chance to have a dinner date."

She hums at the possibility, scratching at an itch behind her ear as she appreciates the rambunctious atmosphere of the Bakugou household. "Yeah, that'd be mad. Yo, Mitsuki-oba, can we stay for dinner?" She has to raise her voice a little to be heard, but she does manage to get the older woman's attention.

Said older woman's ill-tempered behaviour completely shifts into something less, 'I'll kill you with my high-heel, damn cockroach,' and more, 'shit's lit, fam, I'm down.' "Of course!" Mitsuki-oba exclaims, as if the whole concept of asking her for permission is silly. It probably is, at this point. "It's good timing, actually. Bought a lot of groceries today, so we should have enough to satiate you. For a little while, at least."

Pop Rocks finally makes an appearance by stomping down the stairs to bestow upon them his magnificent glare of doom and, "The fuck? You know she eats like a fuckin' gobbler, idiot hoe."

Kou laughs as his mother wastes no time to smack him on the back of his head. "Manners, fuckmunch! I'll shove soap in your fucking mouth, you know I will!"

"Go die in a hole, shitty thot!"

"She doesn't make noise when she eats, though," Aoi murmurs, more to himself than Pop Rocks because the latter, for the most part, ignores the former's existence entirely. "Or," he tilts his head in a speculative manner that's endearing as fuck, "did he not mean it like that?"

With an amused smile, she pats his back as an implication that they start migrating upstairs. "It'll remain a mystery of the world," Kou teases before flicking Pop Rocks in the temple when she's close enough. He scowls at her, baring his teeth like a wild animal and attempting to painfully smack away her hand. He fails, of course. "C'mon, plebeian, you have to lose, like, fifteen times before we do any of that good dining shit."

"I don't have to do shit, you fuck," he retorts, disengaging from his mother ̶ who encourages the losing shebang with a toothy grin ̶ to engage with Kou instead. It's a little hard when he has to follow her up the stairs, though. "And the fuck is that shit on your bicep?"

She glances over her shoulder to find him glaring at her new tattoo as if it's both perplexing and offending. "A tattoo, Pop Rocks," she replies, in that teasingly patronising manner that she often employs whenever he's involved. In response, he clicks his tongue and shoves her further up the stairs, prompting Aoi to teleport the rest of the way up lest she accidentally trips into him.

"I fuckin' know what it is, dipshit," Pop Rocks retorts as she chuckles, shoving his way past her when they reach the top of the stairs and making his way to his room. "I'm askin' why you and Blue Balls are both matchin' with Riku's shitty ink."

Following him into his space, she's once again reminded of how neat it is in comparison to her own room. So, to mess up the status quo, Kou dumps her bag by the foot of his bed and practically dives onto the mattress. "Celebratory tattoos for us all getting into UA because badassery and the Power of Friendship," she summarises, rolling around to mess up the covers and hearing him growl like some kind of territorial mutt. Aoi soon joins her, moving her legs out of the way to sit with his back against the wall. After gently putting her legs over his lap, he pulls out his phone to text Yugami-oji about their plans.

Pop Rocks practically slams into his desk chair before setting up the TV and game console. "Fuck off," he scoffs, carelessly tossing the second controller over his shoulder. She catches it instinctually before it can smack her in the face. "You two got fuckin' recommended, how's that badass?"

"Since there's a large number of recommendations every year, there are evaluation tests to weed through the candidates that are just trying to get in through pure nepotism," Aoi explains, though his gaze is glued to his phone. "Essentially, we've proven our worth to get accepted into UA."

She's pretty sure Naoru-oji has said before that there are six recommended students this year, which is two more than the standard. There have been some exceptions over the years, though, so it's not too unusual.

"Tch, whatever." Pop Rocks skips through the opening sequence of the game and immediately goes into the offline PVP mode when the menu shows up. "Not like it fuckin' matters; I'm goin' to crush you and everyone else there. Just fuckin' wait."

Kou hums, rolling around until her head's near the edge of the bed. Even from an upside-down angle, the resolute expression contorting his face is still mad intense. The whole, like, weirdly severe ambition to become the 'best fuckin' Hero there ever was' is probably one of his best traits, honestly. Makes him very entertaining as a person since there's depth and shit underneath that bitch baby personality. She doesn't really get it, though.

"And yet you still can't beat me at video games," Kou goads. "I thought a Hero was supposed to win at, like, everything, man. Off to a bad start, huh?"

"Do you wanna fuckin' go, Head Change?! I'll beat you into the fuckin' ground!"

"You're the one who hasn't picked a character yet, fam."

. . .

. . .

"We're home. I hope you're both dressed because we don't need to see such filth," Kou announces as she practically slams the door open just to be a little extra. Having dinner with the Bakugou family always energises her. The dysfunctionality is great. So is the food.

Aoi calmly walks past her, blank-faced and serene because someone could be dying in front of him and he would barely bat an eye. No, wait, that's more her thing. He'd probably panic a little, maybe blink a few times before taking action.

"Excuse me, we both have incredible physiques and you know this, Kou," Naoru-oji immediately retorts from further down the hall. Which, of course, he's right, but still. The joke. A loud, dramatic sigh sounds out and is then followed by, "I suppose I'll just eat the portion of food that I graciously saved for you, then. Why do we house such a fiend, Yu?"

Kou chuckles as she removes her shoes before making her way to the kitchen with Aoi in tow. She hears the soft clink of a mug before, "We could send her to your father's place. Or her mother's. Although, both are in different prefectures."

"No," is Aoi and Naoru-oji's simultaneous rejection, while she instead opts to go with, "Wow, rude. Here I thought you loved me."

Her two uncles turn to greet her and her best buddy-pal once they make their appearance from the end of the hall, the couple looking both relaxed and casual. Usually, they both tend to wear their respective costumes more often than not, so it's nice to see them look a little more refreshed.

Yugami-oji smiles ̶ or smirks, either or ̶ as he takes another sip of his tea, looking all classy and shit as he leans against the island counter. (One day, she's going to get Aoi to shed his punk rock-ish style for a day and make him look fancy as fuck like his father.) "Did you have fun annoying Rikuto's cousin?" he inquires, his smile widening slightly when Naoru-oji chuckles from his place at the other side of the counter. Where the food is in a real danger of being stolen by him.

Humming in confirmation, Kou beelines for one of the stools while Aoi goes for the fridge to put away the Coke they've bought on the way home.

"Always, man," she replies, grabbing the plate of steak and dragging it closer to her.

"He bought a new game," Aoi elaborates, rummaging through the fridge until he finds the strawberries. "I assume it was another attempt to one-up Kou by learning the controls and movesets before she could." Closing the fridge door, he teleports to the stool next to her and sets down the container of strawberries on the counter. "He has to buy another controller again, so his efforts were in vain."

She always offers to buy another one for him, both out of sincerity and because he always declares that he 'doesn't need her fuckin' pity.' "Did you two enjoy your day off?" she hums in question after salting her steak with pink Himalayan salt. Good shit, that pink Himalayan salt.

The two men glance at each other, sharing soft smiles and mushy shimmers in their eyes. (One might think it weird how emotive eyes with black sclera, white irises and invisible pupils can be. But it works, somehow, on both Yugami-oji and Aoi. Shit's cute, man.) It'd be almost sickening if she wasn't a diehard supporter and would probably literally die for her OTP. Her strawberry-eating cousin would agree, one hundred percent.

"It was nice," Naoru-oji smiles, his face brightening to threatening levels and ruining the moment by making a grab for one of her plates. It's by instinct that she manages to smack his hand away and bare all her teeth at him in warning. Threatening smiles and all that, since attempting to frown actually kind of hurts. (According to Riku, having all her teeth on display is ungodly terrifying and worthy of multiple exorcisms.) Her non-mutant uncle laughs, unbothered. "Ooh, I was close. Maybe we should rethink the whole 'week off' idea."

"Well, I mean, like, we're still going to do at least one training session a day, though?" Kou remarks with some uncertainty, looking down at her food and soon opting to go with utensils rather than be a savage. "So, it's not actually a proper week off. For, like, any of us. Right?"

Aoi hums as he inspects a strawberry for imperfections. "It's not," he agrees, deeming the fruit worthy of consumption. "Tou-san and Naoru still have to go to work and we will still train at some point each day. Should we invite Riku since it won't be so strict?"

"Ooh, yes. I'm like, pretty sure he's tired of training with Pop Rocks and having all the dirt around him explode."

Yugami-oji chuckles as Naoru-oji sighs in fond exasperation. "A change of subject, Kou," he starts, walking around the island counter until he's standing beside his husband and across from her. "Have you heard from your brother?"

Kou blinks and she feels Aoi go still from her side. "Uh, no?" is her unsure, somewhat bemused answer, because he's rebuffed her existence for years now and she doesn't really give a shit about converting him to her side. (Not that she can't deal with his personality. Pop Rocks and Riku aren't the most welcoming of people, after all.) Even their mother gave up after the mandatory birthday meetup went awry for three years straight. Good times.

"He's not very fond of us, tou-san," Aoi supplies, his body purposefully relaxing. "Is there much of a point when it's clear that he doesn't want to associate with us?"

"He made it into UA," Naoru-oji reveals, leaning forward and shifting into his whole therapist mode. She stares at him, finding great satisfaction in the meat but little in the abrupt turn of the conversation. Mostly because it makes Aoi uncomfortable. "Maybe this can be a personal assignment for the two of you; to reconnect with him now that you'll all be going to school together."

A mildly vexed sigh escapes her. She gets the whole, 're-acclimating to general life and shit,' but she still finds it difficult to actually care about every aspect. She tries, of course ̶ it's for her own benefit, after all ̶ but it's still, like, mad inconvenient. Especially when she lives with her own psychotherapist and he can check on her at any time.

Aoi seems to be even more vexed than she is, probably because he's not usually meant to participate. Although, it would make sense since those two have, like, some kind of mutual dislike. Which is weird, because it's Aoi and he rarely dislikes anyone. Most of the time, he's entirely indifferent if he's not objectively curious. (Except for tou-san. He'll abhor tou-san even when he's dead.)

"If you want me to," Kou acquiesces, chewing the meat in her mouth and swallowing.

Her best buddy-pal elicits a little sigh before he, too, accepts his fate. "I will try, too. However, I'd like to know why it's necessary for us both." Because there's always a reason for these 'assignments.' Always something that's meant to 'open her ̶ and Aoi's, this time around ̶ eyes' in some way. It doesn't always work, of course, so they keep coming back to certain bits that just refuse to stick. Aoi's clearly aware of this.

Her uncles both smile, though one with pleased relief and the other with almost smug approval that their son and niece are being cooperative. "Kou's is obvious, but you, Aoi," Naoru-oji gestures at Aoi's torso, "need to sort out the hostility that you boys feel towards each other." He then waves a dismissive hand. "Just, get to know him as a person. Figure out why he wants to be a Hero; why he dislikes you two ̶ and us by extension ̶ so much. I'm sure that, with time, the three of you will come to an understanding if you make an effort. Alright?"

Aoi's sulking, she can tell. His demeanour and face barely change, but they've been together so long she's fairly sure that they can sense each other's aura or some shit. She rubs his back to comfort him, which always works in getting him to relax somewhat.

"Right, then. We shall assault him with the Power of Friendship and Family when we can."

Or whenever she can be bothered. Either or.

✖‿✖

A/N: So, I'm pretty hyped to be writing for a different fandom, especially BNHA. I've spent months planning shit out, man. So, hopefully, you enjoyed the chapter enough to want to read more. Unfortunately, updates will be sporadic since I'm horrible and my inspiration is a rabid dog that does whatever it wants. Sorry about that. I'll try, at least.

Also giving thanks to my beta, Senior Coq-on-Face The Third, who knows fuck all about BNHA but still helped me, anyway. This wouldn't exist without him, man.

Reviews are love. Reviews are life. It's never ogre. Thank you for reading.