"Give me six hours to chop down a tree,

and I will spend the first four sharpening the ax."

-Abraham Lincoln

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Around 1 week and 6 days ago:

"Allen-kun, what are you planning to do for the Sports Festival?"

The ingrained muscle memory that he had been ingraining into himself ever since he got here, activated.

"Ah, you pronounce it like thi-... Sorry, Uraraka-san, it was the force of habit."

Instead of being offended, the brunette just devolved into a state of laughter. She attempted to hide it at first by smothering her snickers but entirely lost it upon seeing Allen's exasperated (pasted on) facial expression. Soon, even staying upright was impossible, as her body started to float in midair. (She had a weird method of displaying amusement. Really, cradling her hands around her uniform?) Finally, her hands fitted together like a puzzle, and she fell to the ground.

'So that confirms it; she has to touch all of her fingers together to deactivate her quirk. Going by that same logic... She must have to touch something to make it float. Once can be a coincidence, but twice always has a reason.'

"Sorry, sorry, Allen-kun. It just caught me off guard, and well, you don't really seem like the type, so... I couldn't help myself. Guahh, I can feel nausea coming... I've never just floated for that long. Ehhh, there's... no nausea?"

Allen's eyes sharpened, as his senses tingled. Could it be that he was going to get some good information even before the Festival?

"...Do you get nausea often when you use your quirk, Uraraka-san?"

"Yeah, if I use it too much, I can get queasy or even... vomit. Hahaha, it's a little disgusting, right?"

"But you didn't get nauseated this time, right? Hmmm..."

'This... could be interesting. I wonder why she wasn't hit by it this time? Maybe it's because-'

"You... you aren't disgusted?"

At the brown-haired girl's words, he unburrowed himself out of his thoughts to look up at her with a glance of genuine confusion.

"...Why would I be disgusted? It's not like you actually vomited, right? Besides, vomit isn't that bad all things considered. It's just ejecta that was forced out of the stomach because of irritation. There are plenty of things that smell worse and are harder to get out of things..."

He was cut off by the girl once again, as a small, bittersweet tear trailed down her right eye. He found himself captured by that salty drop of water filled up by electrolytes and proteins. He couldn't tear himself away. And just like waking up from a spell, he was finally released when the twice accursed thing hit the floor.

He hated tears the most, even more blood or mashed up organs. They... they were impossible to clean up using normal methods. No amount of bleach or scrubbing could get rid of it. If you wanted to get rid of a tear, then you had to fix a much more fragile and delicate thing than the flesh of the body. You had to fix the mind. The soul.

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It was the one field he had always failed in.

"Sorry, I-I don't know why I cried just then... I suppose you deserve an explanation, don't you?... It was when I was pretty small. I went out to play at a tiny little park, and I was playing around with my quirk. It was just some small things, like flowers and pebbles. Then some other kids came along. They thought my quirk was really cool and insisted on playing with me. I-I didn't really have any friends at that point, so it was like a dream come true."

Her eyes glazed over with happiness, but it was fleeting happiness at best. He could tell.

(For he was the same whenever his memories resurfaced from their jail. Life had a few happy spots between all of the waves of bad. But, it made him more miserable than just simply having the bad. Because he knew that good existed. He knew that there was warmth and happiness and joy in this world. But he... couldn't have it. He didn't deserve to have it. Not anymore.

Happiness just makes the bad all the more painful. He understood that now.)

"I would float some flowers over to the other girls and drop them down. It was a shower of blossoms with flowers instead of snow."

Her breath caught in her throat as the memories returned with a vivid vengeance. Allen just stood off to the side, knowing it was best it just leave her alone in moments like this. He didn't understand why he was listening with such rapid attention, but he did it regardless.

"However... Flowers didn't satisfy them anymore. They wanted me to lift some big rocks. It would be nothing to me now, but I had just awakened my quirk back then. I was already starting to grow a little queasy from lifting all of those flowers. I knew it was a bad idea, but... I didn't want to lose it. Friendship, that is. So I concentrated the hardest I ever had, and I was barely able to make the rock gravity-less. It was only a second, and then it... fell to the ground. It was a miracle that it didn't hit any of them. And then... Well, I vomited."

The thought seemed to make her physically ill.

(Somewhere in the back of his mind, he noted that she could easily lift big rocks. It should have made him disgusted with himself, but it didn't. Funnily enough, it was that thought that almost made him nauseated.)

"...It was almost funny how fast their attitudes changed. Since then, I've been traumatized by it. I-It's kinda pathetic, I know... I just can't get over it. I don't know why I care about what mere five-year-olds called me... Sorry for making you listen to all of this, I-I'll just go now."

He didn't know how to comfort people. He didn't know to fix what had already been broken. But, he did know Science.

That would just have to do for now.

"Nausea is defined as a diffuse sensation of unease and discomfort, often perceived as an urge to vomit. Primarily caused by an overload of stimuli. I don't think that you're suffering from some type of disease or motion sickness for that matter, so as long as you grow used to those stimuli, the brain won't panic. There is also medicine like ondansetron that helps with nausea. I don't recommend that for the long run though, as it isn't that good for y-"

"I-I can get rid of it?"

Her melancholic face lit up with the slightest trace of hope, and he knew that his patch job had somehow worked.

"Yeah."

In a single instant, her faint air of insecurity disappeared. In its' place stood a woman willing to do anything to succeed.

"I know this sounds rather... ungrateful of me, but would you be willing to train with me for the Sports Festival?"

His gaze turned razor-sharp as he looked at the girl in front of him. Her eyes were clear.

"...You're serious, aren't you? You do realize that we're technically enemies, right?"

'In more ways than you could possibly imagine.'

"I-I know that, but you know so much, and I... I promise that it won't be one-sided. There must be some way I can help you with your quirk!"

'I suppose that I do need someone to improve my 'quirk', seeing as it requires very, very fine control. As long as I can do the basic things on myself, it shouldn't backfire too badly on her. As for me... Well, if it comes down to it and her growth surpasses expectations, a mental suggestion should work well and fine in the event we face each other.'

He pushed away the voice that screamed evil. While his circumstances weren't an excuse, they were the truth.

He doubted she had an ancient evil megalomaniac breathing down her throat and threatening to twist it too.

If it came to it, he would find some other way to make it up to the girl.

'I need to get information anyway.'

Decided, he spoke.

"Fine, we'll help each other," He thought a bit before saying something else. "Don't expect me to be merciful in regard to the tournament though."

She smiled.

"I wouldn't dream of it!"

Can't say didn't he warn her.