As the group began to break up, Yaseishi felt a waft or relief. Despite it being early, having been in a large group for so long had made it feel like a long day. The speeches, tours, demonstrations, and unfamiliar grounds hadn’t helped that either. Neither had the threat of death made it feel any shorter. So, key in hand, the Mutant decided that heading to the dorm room for a well earned rest was exactly the thing to do. A hand was pressed on Yaseishi’s injury, the pressure being used to mitigate the pain, and any residual bleeding.

	Heavy boot steps and mechanical ticking fell on Yaseishi’s ears as Spacenaut approached. His otherwise pitch dark visor lit up faintly with a representation of a worried expression. 
[center]（・＿・；)[/center]
	“[color=c4c4c4]Kemonohito-san. I’d like a word with you in private, please.[/color]”
	Yaseishi quirked an eyebrow, turning to look at the armored man’s… ‘face’, or at least in the direction of it, “[color=3f704d]Um, did I do something wrong? Is it the uniform? Because honestly, I just hate wearing skirts in spring,[/color]” though, truth be told, Yaseishi didn’t care for skirts most of the time.

	“[color=c4c4c4]No. Your uniform is okay. If that is what you’re more comfortable in, we’re more than happy to accommodate you.[/color]” Spacenaut’s visor briefly flashed an ascii thumbs up before returning to the previous expression.
	His voice got quieter, but it wasn’t a whisper. It was more like someone had turned down the volume on a radio.
	[color=c4c4c4]“I want to talk about your injury.[/color]”
	Yaseishi’s dark eyes darted between her own grip on her left arm, and the dark screen that covered the man’s face. It occurred to the student that Spacenaut-sensei could be a woman, and that the voice that was being heard could simply be a synthetic voice that converted what was said, or selected, within the suit, and projected it outwards. But that was something for another time. Slowly, the hand was removed, exposing the, all things considered, minor wound to the air. Yaseishi was unsure exactly how this was going to go, but shoulders were shifted, assuring upper arms were covered by somewhat loose sleeves. The student’s social skills being what they were, Yaseishi had no verbal response to give Spacenaut-sensei at the moment.

	[color=c4c4c4]“The wound is self-inflicted. I can see that much. But I must take responsibility for what happened. Chujiro-san’s Quirk should not have been allowed to affect the class during such a sensitive time in your lives. I won’t force you, but I would like for you to visit our counselor at your earliest convenience. All I ask of you for now is that you come with me to the nurse to have that wound addressed properly, and for your forgiveness.”[/color]

	“[color=3f704d]It’s like you said, sensei. It was Chujiro’s Quirk. Nothing to be done about it now,[/color]” Yaseishi remarked, “[color=3f704d]I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it. I just need some sleep and I’ll be fine tomorrow.[/color]”
	It was a lie, but one that Yaseishi told far too often. One that had become far too comfortable. One that she almost believed herself. Spacenaut was silent for a moment, apparently contemplative but it was always difficult to tell when he lacked a face to view. He knew enough about youth to know that kind of answer was almost always a lie, convincing as though Yaseishi made it out to be. 

	“[color=c4c4c4]Very well. If you change your mind about the counseling, there is a map of the school grounds with contact information to reach out provided in your dormitory. But I must insist on getting that treated to prevent infection.[/color]”
	Yaseishi’s eyes rolled, though it was more an admission of defeat than a gesture of disgust, “[color=3f704d]How about we skip the back-and-forth and you just escort me there, yeah?[/color]” the student compromised.

	“[color=c4c4c4]Come along then.[/color]” Spacenaut’s visor faded to black, no longer displaying any representation of emotion, and he lead Yaseishi out of the dorm building just as soon as they had arrived.

	When the pair reached the infirmary, they would find a sign hanging from the door, reading “[I]Out to Lunch[/i]”, with a note adhered to the sign in what looked like romanji, but didn’t spell anything in Japanese.
[center](・_・ヾ[/center]

	Spacenaut analyzed that note for a long period of time, but no translating software, past, present, or future could decipher what the nurse thought was Japanese. He silently wished she had just used her native language, but he couldn’t fault her for trying in a primarily Japanese speaking environment. At least she meant well. In any case, it looked like the nurse couldn’t see her at the moment. Spacenaut let himself in with a set of staff keys and retrieved a small bottle of disinfectant and a roll of bandages. 

	“[color=c4c4c4]Here you are. I am sorry for troubling you on your first day here, Kemonohito-san.[/color]” Spacenaut said at his default volume, holding out his armoured hand to offer the first-aid. He would not belittle Yaseishi by applying it himself.
	“[color=3f704d]I mean… you’re just doing your job,[/color]” Yaseishi replied, taking the disinfectant, gause, and bandages, and applied it to the injury with an almost disturbing level of competence.

	“[color=c4c4c4]Yes. Indeed I am. Then allow this to be my first lesson to you. Not everybody will appreciate you for doing your job. Not in our line of work. Don’t let that stop you from doing what is right.[/color]”
	Yaseishi hesitated for a moment, now with her back to the large figure, eyes shifting away, avoiding hypothetical eye contact.
	“[color=3f704d]Yeah, well… being a teacher already [i]is[/i] a job. Being a Hero isn’t yet,[/color]“ the student was about to comment about how Spacenaut-sensei may have been referring to quality of having a Quirk as being a ‘job’, and how that was inherently oppressive and hyperbolic in its utilitarianism, but she held her tongue- and also wouldn’t have used that exact wording; less intellectual and more biting.
	And with that, Yaseishi began to stride towards her assigned dorm, a hand shoved into the pocket containing the key. Hearing her own footsteps echo through the halls, Yaseishi couldn’t help but feel at least a little introspective. No, she wasn’t going to UA for the reason anyone intended, or at least, not what it was publicly made to be. But was that so wrong? Did that render her reason for being there, her entire attendance at this highschool, hollow?
	The green haired student’s head shook, attempting to loose the thoughts that wrest her mind. It was just a highschool. Students in Japan went to highschools that let them get ahead all the time. That was the point of having different qualities of middle schools, to get into good highschools. She had just jumped the process, and found a school that wouldn’t be worried about her Quirk. It was a win-win situation. Nothing to read into at all. UA was just a name; kind of a stupid one at that.
	As this train of thought came to a close, Yaseishi found herself staring at the door to her new dorm. The space that would be at least partially hers for the next year was right in front of her nose. At least it had a door. With her hand on the doorknob, she noticed she was gripping it much tighter than she meant to. She released the door in shock, before inserting the key, and turning it, opening the door slowly.

	[I]The more things change...[/i]

	Inside the room, plain and open as it was, her eyes caught two familiar sights. The first being Seto Yuki. The second was a pile of old, missmatched luggage. Well, at least she didn’t seem obnoxious, like that Zhao girl with her screaming, or that Ebisugawa girl, with her irritatingly loud voice. [I]Yeah, the worst people in class were just loud, weren’t they?[/i]
	“[color=3f704d]Seto,[/color]” Yaseishi acknowledged flatly.
	Anyway, seeing as her roommate didn’t have a Quirk that could kill her, Yaseishi strode in like she owned the place, and began to unceremoniously unload the suitcases and bags by one of the beds. One of the [i]three[/i] beds; hopefully their third wouldn’t be one of the forbidden three loudmouths, or some peppy snot that would insist on them ‘being friends’. Hopefully Seto wasn’t like that.
	Thumbing her key, Yaseishi considered if finding out her room-mates would have been prudent to do beforehand. Her eyes rolled, inwardly scoffing at the thought of playing guess-and-check in a crowd of students. As she looked up now, unfurling an old, worn bed sheet, her eyes caught sight of several small terrariums lining the window sill. Seeing as they were empty, she doubted they belonged to Seto, and seeing as there were only signs of the two, it was equally doubtful that their third roommate had unpacked them and left. Were they some form of gift? Something to do with her Quirk perhaps? No, why would anybody do that? Allow animals in a school just for one student. Then again, four of the students in 1-A alone were basically animals, herself included.