Hello my darlings! I hope you like this little piece I work every now and then on. It is also published in AO3 under the name of my other accounta, MurasakibaraAoi! So no rights have been violated XD

Please leave a review if you like it!

Toshinori is drying his hair after stepping out of the shower, muscles sore and ready to slip into bed, ready to rest and forget for a moment that tomorrow's training will be hell dressed as a U.A homeroom teacher in a yellow costume, when his phone rings.

"Your apartment is on the third floor, right? Yes? Good, open the door, we are on the lift"

He really does not know what to make out of Gran Torino's voice, or the situation in general to be quite honest, so he stutters an answer when his brain processes the very odd question, and hears a knock on the door even before he puts the phone down. His hair is still wet and there is a towel around his neck when he scrambles down the hall, feet barely fitting inside the slips he managed to grab on his way out of the bathroom, a barely audible 'Almost there!' when there is another knock and his arm raises to unlock the door and pull it open. He has had no time to figure just what the whole thing was about, but what he finds at the other side of the door is not something he would have thought of, even if he had had hours to think about it- His homeroom teacher's bare face is something he is not used to seeing, and feels weird in so many ways given the fact that he kicked his ass in practice not half a day ago, so weird he almost winces when the man snorts and throws an instruction to his left.

"Put your hips into it, she can't be that heavy"

"By all means, you carry her then"

Toshinori blinks, look at his right, and dressed in a high school uniform he has seen around the neighborhood, is a green haired girl that cannot a) be older than him, and b) taller than a Middle School freshman. At the moment, that's all the information his brain is capable of processing, because right there besides the petite girl, with an arm holding her waist and the other one holding her arm around her own small shoulders, is his master in all of her almost unconscious glory. A Shimura Nana wearing civilian clothes was a sight usually reserved for training mile stones' celebration every now and then, maybe a trip to a convince store when it's too hot and ice cream is needed to survive, but not to be held up by a stranger at his doorstep.

There is no blood, no injuries, no torn clothes, but he panics.

"Wh-What happened? Master? Are you- Is she alright!?"

Gran Torino snorts. Toshinori gapes. The girl smiles at him.

"Oh, don't worry, she is! Only had a little too much to drink"

"Your apartment was the closest one, so we brought her here" She snorts at his teacher's explanation, securing a little more her grip on his Master's hand, and throws Gran Torino a glance over Nana's head. If she had not looked as amused, her next words would have sounded painfully bitter.

"We, eh?"

"You needed to get a work out of this"

Toshinori concludes he has no idea of what role he is supposed to be playing right now, even though it is obvious he is to step aside and let them in, but it is somehow lost to him when his Master's head shifts ever so slightly, a groan leaving her lips and a frown adorning her face when she lifts it and blinks at the light coming from inside his apartment. Maybe it is the fact that he has never seen her like this, or that he knows what date it is, that she is dressed like the woman that three years ago as of today gave up on her own son for his sake, that makes him step forward and reach for her arm even when she somehow has all the support she needs on the tiny body of the girl holding her up.

The woman blinks up at him, beautiful features dazzled and eyes unfocused, and he tries to smile, because that's one of the things she has trained him to do.


He opens his mouth to answer.

Her face goes green.

The girl yelps.

"Step bac- Oh dear"

The last bit of her words was completely drowned by his teacher, as she leaned forward with a groan, hand flying upwards to her face but completely failing to keep in the contents of her stomach. If Toshinori had been smarter, he would have released her arm and step back as he was tried to be instructed, but as he stared and twitched at the puddle of vomit at his feet, over his shoes and on the front of his shirt, it was more than obvious that had not been the case. Nana groaned again, and seemed to sober up enough to close her mouth and actually put her hand in place before anything else could come out.

Gran Torino groans.

"Well, you ought to feel better after that"

The girl's name, he learns after throwing his shirt out, bathing again, cleaning the floors, and laying his Master on a spare futon, is Inko. A girl whose family owns the bar-restaurant his Master drinks at times like this and has drank at since it was legal of her (hence, how she knew his Master well enough to help 'the pretty lady who usually eats at the corner and orders too much tequila and lets me sit with her when she wants to talk' from time to time), a girl of his same age who studies on a High School not twenty minutes from his apartment (Hence, the only reason she was even allowed to help in the first place), and most importantly, a girl Toshinori can't, for the life of him, look eye to eye without remembering the fateful day he was puked on by his Master on his doorstep, and she was there to witness it all.

(Hence, the reason why she laughed and patted his shoulder in comfort and laughed some more when it only made him blush harder)

It was almost poetic.