Contrary to popular belief, Fueki Shun loved driving. Yeah, sure, she might have a penchant for wanting to commit vehicular manslaughter on occasion, but it sure beat walking. Especially back in the good ol' days when heroes thought they were all that, yet still couldn't catch a single car screeching around the corner.

And now... well, Shun's job consisted of driving around a top hero with an excellent jawline and his blunt as hell brat. It wasn't so bad. Housing and all that crap was provided, to the dismay of the cops, and she got to stay out of a maximum-security prison for the rest of her life. All thanks to a guy she owed a shit ton of favors towards. And not the kind of favor that's like 'oh, I'll repay you for this in a couple years, maybe I'll forget, whoopsies'. The kind of favor that was quite literally written on ink and signed. Legal name and everything, no aliases allowed.

Hence the reason why the woman was in a good mood when she pulled the car back into Dreynen Agency's garage and headed into the building. One more favor, crossed off the list. At this rate... Well, Shun would still be working for the boss 'till she was old and dying, but it still felt good to have one less thing to do in the future.

She strolled leisurely into the lobby from the side door, flashing the poor receptionist a toothy grin and giving her a heart attack for the seventh time that week before it happened.

"SHUN!" a vaguely familiar voice yelled, a blur of fire overtaking her vision as a teenager rocketed towards her like a missile.

Shun blinked, deftly sidestepped, and let the kid crash into the wall with a painful smack. He fell back and lay spread eagle on the tiled floor, red eyes staring deliriously up at the ceiling while blood streamed from his nose. Oh, and a little down the walls. Whoever had to clean that was going to be pissed off.

"Ow..."

Oh. Now she recognized the kid after hearing his groan of pain.

Shit. So that was why he knew her name, let alone called her by her first name when the last person to do so was six feet under. Or rotting in a dumpster, considering how little people bothered to hide the evidence properly these days.

A grin spread across the woman's face, even as her boss's brat sighed from off to the side and muttered something about the situation being a pain in the ass. She strode forward and crouched down, pinching the boy's cheeks like a grandmother and grinning even wider. "Nice of you to finally come back, little Taki. Not so scrawny these days, eh?"

~-~-~-~

Kazue watched the apparent reunion with veiled interest, leaning against the wall of the lobby and shooting the receptionist a mildly apologetic look. She, in all honesty, deserved a raise for Fueki's evidently terrifying grins, alongside the fact that the entire area nearly would have gotten torched if he hadn't done anything. While his Quirk was powerful and he was good at dialing up the power to the maximum, Adachi was absolutely terrible about keeping collateral damage to a minimum.

Although, he supposed it didn't exactly matter in arena battles where the loser either died or was beaten halfway there. The contestants were paid well for a reason, besides Fueki's love to watch people fight.

From the appearance of things, the dark-haired woman had things under control. Adachi had immediately protested upon being called 'little Taki', and had deliberately flexed upon the fact he used to be scrawny being brought up.

Kazue nodded once to the receptionist, spared one more glance at the sight of Adachi punching Fueki in the shoulder and somehow not dying, and slipped down the hall towards the stairs. The schedule wouldn't exactly keep itself, and the brunet didn't have the burning desire to get behind on his work. Catching up was always a pain in the ass, even if the agency was always ahead of schedule to begin with. And despite his injury, due to a lack of duty as an actual hero, he'd been invited back to work rather than being condemned to tantamount house arrest.

The rest of the afternoon up until dinner was a blur. Kazue retreated into the employee lounge to finish up some paperwork, as well as fill out a few of Aerogale's reports from what he'd gleaned from the small camera fixed on the hero's visor for that specific reason. Like usual, considering Kamui Woods had made the news yet again that morning, Aerogale was nowhere to be seen. It was highly likely that he'd picked up Iwata's shift, along with covering for another hero from some other agency.

The one-sided rivalry was still going strong ever since the Arbor Quirk user had kicked the Zephyr hero's ass in their first year in Yūei's Sports Festival.

Kazue released a breath as he shut his laptop and returned the slightly warm device to its case, cracking his stiff neck and blinking a few times as he finally turned his gaze away from the screen. He pulled off the blue light protective glasses perched on his nose and slipped them back into their small drawstring bag, stood up, packed everything into his backpack, and left.

"Ready to go, brat?" Fueki greeted, the car pulling up smoothly in front of the agency as soon as the brunet pushed open the door.

As per usual, the woman knew exactly when he'd finished working and when to pull around. It was mildly terrifying, but, considering there was a logical explanation for her antics, Kazue just accepted it. So he just nodded once and slid into the backseat, nodding again in greeting to a sullen Adachi. Likely, he'd been informed that he was out of a job fighting people for money and that his former employer now worked technically full-time for a top hero.

Which then brought forth the following questions: Where exactly was Adachi going to stay? Where was he in terms of education? Did he have a viable resume for a legal job, if he so chose to pursue one? Did he have basic necessities?

"Taki's got nothing and he's staying with me," Fueki spoke up from the front seat, knowing what he was thinking (on a minor level) and answering the unspoken questions. "This dumbass dropped out of school after junior high and his only skills are fighting and pretending he hates theater."

"Well fuck you, too," Adachi muttered and rolled his eyes, He didn't seem mad at the assessment, more of annoyed that she'd gotten everything right. "I'll have you know that I can also speak Arabic fluently, thank you."

Almost everything, Kazue amended, once more appraising the other teen. It was obvious that he couldn't exactly return to school, let alone if he wanted to in the first place. There was always the option of private tutoring, but whether or not Adachi even cared was yet to be seen. "What about English?" he asked in his usual disinterested tone, glancing over.

Adachi made a face, looking back at him. "I didn't say I knew English, did I? Clean your shitty-ass ears."

The opportunity was too good to pass up.

Kazue moved the hair over his left ear to the side to reveal the plain plastic nestled within. "I don't believe that's possible," he stated flatly.

Fueki snickered from the front seat, looking back and bursting out laughing at Adachi's dumbfounded face. "Brat, did you just make a joke?"

The corners of his lips twitched upwards. "I think so."

~-~-~-~

It was roughly three in the morning when Kazue finally flipped closed the binder he was currently working on. He stifled a yawn, swiping his free hand across his face, then lifted his mug of coffee to his lips. The brunet paused when nothing trickled out of the cup, the memory that he'd already finished the drink coming to the forefront of his mind.

"Damn it," he sighed, the words silent to his own ears. There was no point in wasting battery alone in his room while he was critiquing Yūei's heroics class and proposing new lesson plans. The binder regarding the entrance exams had long since been finished, so now Kazue had moved on to another topic he was knowledgeable in. Not that he wasn't knowledgeable in most things, but he digressed. The training of fledgling heroes was something he'd been doing for a while now, but All Might was clearly new to the concept.

Kazue picked up his phone from where it lay face-down on his desk, wincing momentarily at both the brightness of the screen and the cramp in his hand. He sent a quick text, then pushed his chair on its wheels towards the window. The brunet unlocked the latch and slid open the glass barrier, holding out his mug in the proper direction and angle.

He stifled yet another yawn as he waited, until a small amount of something flying towards him caught his eye. Kazue sat up straight as the steaming-hot coffee poured itself into his mug, retracting his arm and taking a sip. Perfectly done, as always.

Kazue pushed back to his desk after closing up the window, then sent a thank you message to the contact named 'Fake Taxi'. Yes, he knew what it meant (unfortunately), and no, he hadn't typed it.

Sometimes he questioned Fueki's sanity, but remembered that she had little to none to begin with. On the other hand, her willingness to use her Quirk to send him coffee in the dead of night was a blessing. Being able to pour liquid from one container to another no matter the orientation or direction and never lose a drop was an interesting power, to say the least.

His phone buzzed the desk just as he was taking another sip and he glanced over at the screen, seeing that she'd texted him back.

Fake Taxi

your caffeine addiction is concerning

why are you up

read 3:04am

oi

brat

Kazue finally picked up the buzzing device, wondering why Fueki was even asking. Usually, the woman never gave a shit or asked personal questions.

Dead Inside

What?

Fake Taxi

want some cash

Dead Inside

No.

Fake Taxi

let me rephrase that

wanna tutor taki so he's not a dumbass

Dead Inside

Office hours are from 5-7 on Tuesdays and Thursdays. My hourly rate is 3360¥. We can meet tomorrow at 4pm to discuss this further.

Fake Taxi

look at you, being all professional

i pity your future students

read 3:10am

Kazue slouched against his desk, carefully resting his plaster-encased limb on the surface. He sighed, allowing himself a second of rest before sliding forward and opening his laptop. Time to change the schedule. He hadn't tutored anyone in a while, meaning that two hours were essentially free time on those days, but now they were gone once more.

Oh well. It wasn't like Kazue needed any private time to himself. He honestly didn't know what he would do without a set schedule that was packed to the brim. So much free time would be unthinkable and he'd actually start asking for work to do. It was better to tutor a loudmouth than take care of even more paperwork with one arm already broken.

Ah. Wait, that reminded him. The brunet needed to stop by the nurse's office after school tomorrow—today, actually—to further get healed. Not that Recovery Girl would particularly trust Kazue after the stunt that he pulled to get rid of everything but his forehead wrap and arm cast, but it was worth trying. The intermittent throbbing was a pain in the ass when he was attempting to concentrate on work; something he could do without.

Then came the matter of the upcoming Sports Festival. Kazue could very well be exempt from it due to his injuries. However, the injuries themselves could be easily taken care of the day before if he were to trick Recovery Girl again. His father was more or less expecting him to take part in the event regardless of his injuries, so Kazue supposed he might as well get rid of the broken arm and healing gash.

Knowing Katashi, he'd likely predicted exactly where his son's thought process would bring him. Only someone who was familiar with the man wouldn't think he was sadistic for wanting his child to participate in an athletic competition in such a state.

Kazue moved from taking sips of his coffee to small gulps, pushing his chair away from the desk and closing his laptop. He squinted over at the digital clock in the back right corner to see it was now around 3:20 in the morning. The brunet's lips quirked upwards at the sight of being done with everything forty minutes ahead of schedule. It appeared he'd be getting more than three hours of sleep that night.

The last time he'd slept that long—ignoring the short period of time directly after his injury—would be roughly seven months prior.

Not that exciting of a chapter, but I kinda had to work in Taki a little bit more considering I actually have a plan for his character.

And yes. Fueki's Quirk is the ability to pour liquid from one container into another without fail no matter what, and she uses it to send Kazue coffee at three in the morning. I... have no idea where that came from.

My temporary HIATUS is now over :)