The leaves are turning, and Midoriya is a no-longer-camouflaged evergreen. Midoriya is in full Hero costume so that he has all the tools necessary to defend effectively: repaired jumpsuit stitched back together by an expert other than him, Air Force gauntlets, Iron Soles, waterproof (and bloodproof) cloak with its storm collar, and full stock of first aid supplies in his belt pouches. He also packed bento in his backpack, well-sealed so as not to attract creatures.
When Kaworu sneezes, he privately wishes he'd packed all his handkerchiefs. When they get home: ginger honey tea, definitely.
He knows this area, having inadvertently explored some of Trenchwood during his terrible March sojourn, but the seasonal flora has changed. This alone is a fascination. (Paul's happiness is another warm balm that draws a smile to his own face.) His fingers twitch as if they want to be holding a notebook and pencil for fungi notes, but he must remain hands-free. He never wanders more than a few feet away, preferring to keep the emanating point of Danger Sense centered on Paul, to remain standing, and to angle his feet to be ready to move at all times.
The Wayward Watcher, unofficial leader of the Hunters, cannot speak and uses ASL and writing instead. As a precaution early on, Midoriya brushed up on ways to communicate nonverbally within the scope of Hunter work even before he met Paul. Before conversation, he expects a tap on the shoulder or a wave to get attention. He knows eye contact and taking turns to communicate is both necessary and expected.
So, in his diligent habit of paying attention when he's addressed, Midoriya is looking at Paul attentively with occasional nods and no interruptions, even if, unseen, he keeps one mental finger on his Quirk, Danger Sense's door open and ready to detect anyone's ill will in the vicinity--
When he feels the stabbing sensation in his head, he jerks in a pivot, weight in the balls of his feet, and his Quirk's Full Cowl emerges with sparks around him. He signs for Quiet, and to indicate the direction of the unknown danger. It's not moving, he adds.
Maybe they can get by with remaining still and non-threatening, and whatever it is can decide to move on. Since March, his fighting stance has modified slightly from the proper forms, especially when out in nature. He crouches in a little more of an animalistic way, and the remembered scent of cherry blossoms--out of season now--plays tricks on his nose.
no subject
When Kaworu sneezes, he privately wishes he'd packed all his handkerchiefs. When they get home: ginger honey tea, definitely.
He knows this area, having inadvertently explored some of Trenchwood during his terrible March sojourn, but the seasonal flora has changed. This alone is a fascination. (Paul's happiness is another warm balm that draws a smile to his own face.) His fingers twitch as if they want to be holding a notebook and pencil for fungi notes, but he must remain hands-free. He never wanders more than a few feet away, preferring to keep the emanating point of Danger Sense centered on Paul, to remain standing, and to angle his feet to be ready to move at all times.
The Wayward Watcher, unofficial leader of the Hunters, cannot speak and uses ASL and writing instead. As a precaution early on, Midoriya brushed up on ways to communicate nonverbally within the scope of Hunter work even before he met Paul. Before conversation, he expects a tap on the shoulder or a wave to get attention. He knows eye contact and taking turns to communicate is both necessary and expected.
So, in his diligent habit of paying attention when he's addressed, Midoriya is looking at Paul attentively with occasional nods and no interruptions, even if, unseen, he keeps one mental finger on his Quirk, Danger Sense's door open and ready to detect anyone's ill will in the vicinity--
When he feels the stabbing sensation in his head, he jerks in a pivot, weight in the balls of his feet, and his Quirk's Full Cowl emerges with sparks around him. He signs for Quiet, and to indicate the direction of the unknown danger. It's not moving, he adds.
Maybe they can get by with remaining still and non-threatening, and whatever it is can decide to move on. Since March, his fighting stance has modified slightly from the proper forms, especially when out in nature. He crouches in a little more of an animalistic way, and the remembered scent of cherry blossoms--out of season now--plays tricks on his nose.