Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

• prologue

The tea on his desk sat cold for the last hour. Nedzu leaned back on his seat, staring at the sheets of papers spread out on his desk. The peculiar principal of Japan’s number one hero school let himself be bathed by the afternoon light as he pondered over the contents of the papers. 

“What to do, what to do?” Nedzu sighed. 

The Ministry of Education had insisted heavily on enlisting a guidance counsellor for the school, but the conundrum that Nedzu faced was choosing new staff. Of course, many had sent their application to his esteemed school, many with upstanding qualifications and degrees under their belt. But the problem itself lay in trust. The Ministry of Education was not just expecting him to add another member of staff, but to put the responsibility of the emotional well-being of his students in the hands of the strangers in the applications in front of them. No, it is not as simple as the MOE claims it to be, Nedzu will not choose indiscriminately, no matter how much they pressed.

Trust was the issue. And Nedzu trusted not a single applicant that was spread across his desk.

The job of a student counsellor required more than just fanciful words and a shoulder to cry on. They were figures that dedicated themselves to become tools of a student’s success in all environments, not just school. They are a student’s most trusted confidant and are able to shoulder the weight of a student’s emotional burdens so that they may be given the opportunity to grow and reach their goals. Patience, Compassion, Empathy - are just part of a small list of characteristics a student counsellor must have.

The school bell rang across the whole campus, signalling the end of the school day. Nedzu watched from his office as his precious students made their way out, some milling around, greeting friends, saying their goodbyes and ‘see you tomorrow’s. Seemingly unconcerned and carefree. Who would know of their burdens? To be trusted with the weights they bear? Who would see past their bright smiles and forced laughs? Who would understand the horrors the hero students have seen and know that they need more than perfected sympathetic smiles and practised speeches?

Nedzu once again turned his gaze to the sheets of resumes. He had carefully sifted through the applications three times, all 115 of them, even though he knew it would be all for naught by the seventh application. 

He sighed. Perhaps a fresh cup of tea would do him good. 

The furry principal hopped down from his seat (much too big for him, but he liked the height) and tipped his cold cup in the sink in the small kitchen area located behind the door to his right. The benefit of being the principal was that he didn't need to travel to the staff room for some tea- though he did like to visit once in a while to see how the staff were. 

The scent of chamomile permeated the air. Nedzu took a sip of his tea and walked closer to the glass floor to ceiling windows behind his desk. The sky was a golden orange hue now. There were fewer students lounging in the front of the campus, those few left were lazing in the grass areas, enjoying the afternoon calm. He even spotted one student napping under the shade of a tree. He hummed. 

The MOE seemed to think it would be an easy task in choosing, seeing as they made clear that an applicant must be chosen a week from now.  Should he fail to hire an applicant, they’d take matters into their own hands and choose one themselves with or without his approval. Nedzu huffed. The gall of some people.

He glanced at the clock. 5.46 p.m.

A harsh bang startled him from his thoughts, ears swivelling to the source of the sound before he turned his chair to the window. Whatever hit the window was nowhere to be found, but his eyes stared at the impression left behind on the clear glass. Dirt and dust formed the clear shape of a small bird, from its head to tail feathers with its wings outstretched. 

Humans believe the superstition of such incidents meant a herald of change. Perhaps there was some truth to such a notion as Nedzu was hit with an idea. His tail twitched in anticipation, though he had a mind to keep it from completely wagging. He had to keep his dignity after all. 

Ah. What was he saying? Humans’ sense of dignity seems to have influenced him too much. There was no one there to see anyway. 

His tail swayed happily from side to side. 

It was time to make a phone call. 

.

.

.

A shrill ring of the telephone cuts through the song of the cicadas and the croon of Sinatra’s Always . 

A lazy hand picks up the handset of the antique dial phone. 

“I hope you have a good reason for calling, I’m quite busy enjoying my self-imposed solitude.”

From the speaker, a squeaky voice replies. 

“I had hoped you'd forgotten about that- yes, yes I know. You never forget anything.” 

Water ripples and the bubbles in the tub part as she crosses her legs. She frowns as she listens to the voice on the other side of the phone. 

She suddenly laughs, disturbing the birds outside of her open-air tub. “I see you still have that humour about you.”

The voice replies. Her expression drops into a cold stillness. 

She hangs up the telephone, putting down the handle with a firm force. 

“The nerve,” she huffs. 

The phone rings. 

She rolls her eyes and sighs. She picks up the phone, visibly calmer. 

“You know this is a terrible idea.”

The voice disagrees. 

“What part of self-imposed isolation did you not get, you bothersome rodent?”

A high-pitched laugh, almost maniac, sounds from the speaker. 

“I’m not going… No , I’m not. No, you will not be seeing me in two days- don’t you-”

A cheery voice bids her goodbye. The line ends. 

“ Damn him! ”

Chapter Text

• chapter one

Nedzu sighed in delight as he breathed in the aroma of the jasmine tea blend cradled in his paws. He leaned back in his seat as he took a careful sip. The principal of UA looked at the woman sitting across from him, holding her own cup of tea and reading through a folder. 

“How is your new protege?” he asked. 

“It’s been a year now, he’s hardly new.” Hyacinth Potter glanced suspiciously at the principal behind round glasses. “Why?”

The furry principal hummed.

Spring green eyes narrowed and, as Nedzu predicted, she didn’t press further, content to keep reviewing the contents of her folder. She’d sit there in silence with her tea and work for hours if he’d let her, the passing world around her all but white noise in her ears. Sometimes, she did it on purpose, to him especially, with the hopes that he would discontinue the topic at hand. But Nedzu had the patience of a saint, he knew all her little tricks and decided that straightforwardness was the best approach. 

“He’s very diligent in his reports and work. Do you find him very competent?”

“More than competent, actually,” she said distractedly, writing something down. “I hardly have any paperwork with how fast Inui-san finishes them.”

“Wonderful!” Nedzu said cheerfully. “So you’ll be happy to take the Vice Principal position, seeing as Inui-san is more than qualified to take over the role of student counsellor?”

He sees the way she stills, her pen in a white-knuckled grip, and, were he any other lesser creature, the way she slowly turned and glared at him would’ve made anyone cower. But Nedzu simply sipped his tea and offered an innocent smile. 

“This was your plan all along, wasn’t it? Well, unfortunately for you, my answer is no, it will always be no and nothing will ever change that,” Hyacinth harrumphed. “I can’t believe you…”

“Well, it was worth a try,” said Nedzu before she could go off into one of her tangents. “But, I know you, you absolutely hate being idle. That, and you’d gladly give your position to Inui-san should he ask.”

“But?” She rolled her eyes, hearing the word at the end of his spiel. Nedzu grinned, a glint in his eyes. 

“But, I’ll not have my hard work of having convinced you out of your hermit tendencies be ruined because of a minor setback.”

Hyacinth waved her hand as if saying ‘there we go.’ But, to Nedzu’s delight, she did not protest when he called her a hermit. She didn’t need much convincing from him to figure out that her previous lifestyle of cutting all human contact was an unhealthy one. 

“That being said, should Inui-san inquire about a permanent position as a student counsellor I wouldn’t be opposed to you offering your place to him.” He grinned at her expectant look, knowing him well enough to know that he always had something up his sleeve. “I’ll be looking for a Student Advisor soon, anyhow.”

“How convenient,” she muttered sarcastically. 

“Indeed! The role will be working closely with the Student Counsellor, so you can keep an eye on your protege and help students more broadly, along with the personal, you’ll be able to have a more hands-on approach to helping them in other areas such as their educational and career development, not unlike what you have already done so far” Nedzu listed off. “I believe UA’s students will flourish under your careful guidance!”

“So sure of that, are you?” Hyacinth huffed, but Nedzu’s keen eyes can see the reddening at the tip of her pointed ears. 

“I’d trust no else with the well-being of my students,” he said sincerely, but also to delight in seeing her blush spread to her pale cheeks. 

Feeling the citrus tang of his amusement, Hyacinth scowled at the furry principal. She stood and began to gather her things. “My lunch is almost over. I better get back.”

“Do think about it, Hyacinth,” he hummed, closing his eyes as he sipped his tea. “The students of UA have done nothing but thrive under your care.”

The door shut behind her. 

.

.

.

The halls of UA were empty of any roaming students, everybody was well into fifth period as Hyacinth Potter made the journey to her office. Compared to the staff’s office, Hyacinth’s little nook was more accessible, the hallway outside was a highway for students during their breaks so it was hard to miss it. 

In the beginning, its placement was quite inconvenient for her quirk, her empathy unwittingly soaking in every stress, anxiety and high school heartbreak that walked passed her door. Oh, she remembered wanting to wring Nedzu’s neck for putting her in that situation. But, she wasn’t so unreasonable as to lay all the blame on him. With a quirk like hers, self-isolation wasn’t her brightest idea, and so the shock of feelings, teenage feelings most of all, had overwhelmed her. 

Nedzu’s support and insistence on her role as one of UA’s staff had changed her for the better, though she wouldn’t admit that to him, still quite cross as his paws had forced her into her current circumstance. He knew she hated not having a choice. But her fondness for children won out in the end. 

This year would mark her third year of working as a student counsellor. Being there for the students during their highs and lows has certainly been a privilege. There’s also the fact that being a student advisor wasn’t so far of a leap from counselling. 

Ugh, now Nedzu’s words were getting to her. 

With a sigh, she opened the door to her office, deciding to think about it tomorrow, and she saw her assistant perking at the sight of her. Seeing Inui’s large frame typing on the too-small keyboards and squinting at the small letters on the computer screen never failed to amuse her. Her quirk picked up on the spike of concern from him and then the familiar whirlwind of anxiety and stress coming from her private office. It took her just shy of a second to connect the dots. 

Inui had just opened his mouth to catch her up, but she raised a pacifying hand. “It’s all right, Inui-san, I’ve got it covered.”

She knocked first before she entered her office, the spike of surprise mirrored by her heart skipping a beat. A young woman with red antlers branching from her head sat on one of her armchairs (the kids had taken to calling it the ‘banana chair’ because of its curved shape and awful yellow colour, it’s been a favourite otherwise). Teary rose-golden eyes looked up at her before bursting into tears. 

Hyacinth offered a sympathetic smile. 

“I’ll put the kettle on.”

Some tea, a spread of sweets and a butt-load of tissues later did the trick to quickly dry the young woman’s tears. 

Omura Kiyoko was a third-year student in the general course, whose history of anxiety and panic attacks has been known to Hyacinth since she began her first year in UA and thus, has always given her a pass to Hyacinth’s office should she need it. Kiyoko’s a sweet girl, top of her class in the three years she had been in the esteemed school, though painfully shy. But, Hyacinth had the pleasure of watching and working with her to overcome that, now she had come out of her shell, made some lasting friendships, and yet… 

“I just don’t know what to do, sensei,” Kiyoko sniffed and shoved a strawberry macaroon in her mouth. “I… I think the mid-terms are just getting to me, ya know?”

The poor girl had a panic attack in class and ran to Hyacinth’s office before her classmates or her teacher could figure out what happened. Now, had it been any other student telling her that the mid-term stress had them running to her office, she wouldn’t question it. But this was Kiyoko, and while the upcoming exams certainly played a part in her panic attack, that wasn’t the whole story. She didn’t need her quirk to figure that out.  

“Surely there’s more to it than that?”

“Why can’t it be just that?” Kiyoko huffed defensively. At Hyacinth’s unimpressed look, she sighed in resignation. “I dunno, sensei. It feels stupid now that I’ve stopped being all… dramatic about nothing.”

“That’s too many negatives in that sentence, young miss, and that just won’t do,” Hyacinth tutted, standing, and ignoring the young woman’s groan and pleads of “Sensei, please not Pocchan.” 

In the corner of the room, the dark-haired woman picked up the giant panda plush, a head taller than her, arms opened and awaiting an embrace and promptly dumped it on the third-year student. The premise of the black and white bear was to ‘hug it out', something she incorporated in counselling nearly two years ago purely by accident. It had been a welcome gift from Nedzu, and she refused to take it home out of spite. Then, a student, who had been having a terrible day, had asked if he could hold it, muttering shyly about having a childhood teddy that comforted him. The panda seemed to work on getting people to open up more. So the panda stayed, and they named it Pocchan.

Despite Kiyoko’s protests, she embraced the panda that seemed to almost smother her. She buried her face in its faux fur while Hyacinth sat back down on her chair. She felt the third-year student’s anxiety be soothed as she ran her palms on Pocchan’s furry back. 

Hyacinth let her take her time. She could feel her hesitation, taste the sourness of her embarrassment ease as the seconds ticked by until... 

“I’m…scared. Of leaving UA. I don’t know what to do after I graduate,” Kiyoko quietly confessed. “I-I know there are universities and internships and stuff we could do, but I don’t know sensei. They all just sound so big, if that makes any sense.”

She could feel her getting frustrated, feeling as if she couldn’t articulate her thoughts well enough. But Hyacinth understood her well and truly. 

“It’s a scary thing to think about, that you’ll be considered an adult in a few short months and be expected to do the adult thing and get your life sorted out,” Hyacinth hummed. She waited until she held Kiyoko’s eyes before continuing. “The truth is, Kiyoko, everyone has their own pace in life. Take everything one step at a time. Every turning point in your life is a daunting experience only because it’s a new one.”

She could feel the tension unwind, the sad feelings worming back. But the self-doubt, the anxiety clung stubbornly. 

“You know, this is actually my first real job.” She smiled at Kiyoko’s sceptical look. 

“You’re lying.”

Hyacinth laughed. “No, I’m serious. Before I got this job, I was just an unemployed hermit with no desire for a career or to see the sun. Would you believe I used to be paler than I already am?”

Kiyoko snickered. “You would’ve given a sheet of paper a run for its money, I bet.”

“Point is, you’re a very smart girl, Kiyoko. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders so I doubt you’ll be a hermit like I was.” She smiled at Kiyoko’s chuckle. “Trust that all your hard work won’t let you down. And you’ve got a good support system: your parents, your teachers, friends and myself, we’re all here for you. No matter what.”

The binds unravel. The sweet and refreshing taste of hope. The same shy smile that she first greeted her with all those years ago.

“Thanks, Potta-sensei.”

* * O M A K E * *  

~one year ago~

Ryo Inui was not a man so easily intimidated. In fact, his hero name had once been dragged into the list of heroes who look like villains, which wasn’t surprising seeing as his tendency to vocalise in grunts and barks paired with his rabid-dog look in his first years as a pro was a sure way to scare some people. Many years of self-discipline and speech therapy got him to where he was now, but sometimes feelings get overwhelming and words don’t feel like enough to express himself, so-

Snuff-ggrowwf-whine.

The fact of the matter is, Ryo does not scare easily, but he knew that a job interview would just about make any man shit himself. 

The interview was set well after school hours, so the school halls were empty of students, which was a blessing. The halls of Japan’s well-known gem that was UA high were so spotless he could see his reflection on the tile floors and the windows. It’s been a while since he had worn a suit, he had gotten so used to seeing his pro-hero outfit as his day-to-day wear, and he felt the absence of the weight of his muzzle quite clearly. But he reminded himself that he wasn’t Hound Dog today. He was just Ryo, a man on his way to an interview for a position in one of the most prestigious schools in Japan. No stress. 

Whiiiine…

“Inui-san?” He turned to see the receptionist address him. “The principal’s ready for you.”

Ryo swallowed back another whine and nodded to the receptionist. “Thank you, ma’am. Please, lead the way.”

The woman smiled brightly. Ryo was thankful his cheeks were covered with fur. The receptionist has a beautiful smile. 

Ryo felt like the walk to the principal’s office was a mile in slow motion. That childhood anxiety walking up to the principal’s office paired with the knowledge he’d be interviewed by said principal made him pull his ears back and suffocate a compilation of howls and whimpers bubbling in his throat.

“What made you apply to UA, Inui-san? Surely pro-hero life is much more exciting.” A sweet voice cut through the thick fog of anxiety.

It took a moment for Ryo to process her words and he shook his head. “Ain’t about excitement, ma’am. Therapy helped me a bunch in my early days. Guess I wanna be that person for the kids,” Ryo said honestly. He reminded himself to take two treats later for not letting himself be interrupted by his verbal tics and enunciated his words clearly. 

“Yes, I suppose the hero course does need the extra hand. I can’t imagine the kind of horrors they’ll be up against. Poor dears,” she tutted, shaking her head sadly.

Ryo couldn’t help the growl that escaped his lips. “There’s more than just the hero course at UA, ain’t it? Don’t have to be in the hero course for kids to be dealing with a lot. I didn’t apply thinking counselling is just for the hero course. High school’s a stressful enough place.”

He looked at the receptionist and was surprised to find her smiling softly at him. He had expected her to look sheepish, chastised even. He’s not so disillusioned as to ignore the attention and resources being poured into the hero course and neglect the other courses in many hero schools. He had hoped that UA would be a different case, apart from being the top hero school, their academic score statistics were no laughing matter. It reflected that they put as much care and resources into their other courses, which is much more than the bare minimum that other hero schools provided.

Now, he felt a little silly. Of course, UA would take care of all of its students. One person’s views didn’t define the whole school. Maybe the receptionist didn’t mean it that way. He was worrying himself into a spiral. He could feel himself about to utter an embarrassing whine.

The receptionist stopped at a pair of polished wooden doors with the words ‘Principal’s Office’ carved on a golden plate. Ryo straightened and tried to resist the urge to shake away his anxiety.

The woman placed a hand on the handle and instead of opening the door, she smiled at him again, a small encouraging thing. “You’ll be a wonderful addition to the staff, Inui-san.”

He wanted to correct her, that he hadn’t been hired yet, but she opened the door and revealed UA’s principal sitting with a cup of tea at his desk across the room. His beady eyes were pinned on him expectantly. 

“Nice to meet you, Inui-san. Please sit.”

As he stepped into the office, he didn’t catch the woman’s lips stretching in a delighted grin behind him as bright green eyes winked at the bemused principal.