"Oh, amazing!" Midoriya exclaims. "See how fungi prefer the damp and dark inside, a perfect home. You can tell which parts of the skull received light because of the moss..."
By now, the children know to expect excitement and rambling from him at every leaf or doodle they bring him. Without the anchoring weight of a potato, he's free to shuffle around the festooned skull in a semicircle to take it in at different angles.
"Everything is in the running for a prize until submissions are closed," he adds as he tries to return his voice to carefully neutral.
A short, small girl with a straight-cut brown bob steps forward. She uses her Darkblood powers to delicately place a handkerchief on an end table and float a weathered metal box out of her hands (covered in gardening gloves).
"It was revealed by the rains, so I excavated it. I thought about not taking it, but the box is nearly rusted through. I think you'll know best how to protect what's inside, Mr. Midoriya."
The latch sheds flakes of orange-brown patina as she uses her mind to undo it and lift the lid away to reveal a large envelope. Midoriya has already gone very still. Then he moves without thinking of gloves, carefully opens the envelope, and lays the first photograph on the table. It has a warm, grainy quality, evidence of being developed from film.
"That's me," he says in a tight voice, "eating lunch with a bunch of people. I'm 16 and in my original Hero costume. We set up camp on the beach to fight a sea monster--see the tents? These photos were taken by someone named Ichimonji Hayato."
He produces another photograph of a quiet section of shoreline with a sparring ring and two distant figures sitting silhouetted against the light. "There was a time I hid evidence of my friends. I was afraid people would go after them because of me. But I couldn't bring myself to destroy the photos or their negatives."
no subject
By now, the children know to expect excitement and rambling from him at every leaf or doodle they bring him. Without the anchoring weight of a potato, he's free to shuffle around the festooned skull in a semicircle to take it in at different angles.
"Everything is in the running for a prize until submissions are closed," he adds as he tries to return his voice to carefully neutral.
A short, small girl with a straight-cut brown bob steps forward. She uses her Darkblood powers to delicately place a handkerchief on an end table and float a weathered metal box out of her hands (covered in gardening gloves).
"It was revealed by the rains, so I excavated it. I thought about not taking it, but the box is nearly rusted through. I think you'll know best how to protect what's inside, Mr. Midoriya."
The latch sheds flakes of orange-brown patina as she uses her mind to undo it and lift the lid away to reveal a large envelope. Midoriya has already gone very still. Then he moves without thinking of gloves, carefully opens the envelope, and lays the first photograph on the table. It has a warm, grainy quality, evidence of being developed from film.
"That's me," he says in a tight voice, "eating lunch with a bunch of people. I'm 16 and in my original Hero costume. We set up camp on the beach to fight a sea monster--see the tents? These photos were taken by someone named Ichimonji Hayato."
He produces another photograph of a quiet section of shoreline with a sparring ring and two distant figures sitting silhouetted against the light. "There was a time I hid evidence of my friends. I was afraid people would go after them because of me. But I couldn't bring myself to destroy the photos or their negatives."