I flop onto my back, thoughts quiet and calm but body restless, and I crane my neck to see the tv. My down comforter swallows me up like a cuddly monster. When a lock of hair drifts over my eye, I barely even notice it, and only when it touches, actually touches my eye, do I scrunch up my face and blow it away.
Pulling out my phone, I swipe through Tinder a few times. Nothing. "Goddamnit. I'm such a perv," I mumble to myself as I roll over and smush my face into my pillows. They smell of fabric softener.
"Ok. Big day tomorrow," I think aloud. "I've finally enrolled at UA." I can't contain a joyful squeak at the thought. Me. At UA. The greatest hero school on the planet!
I roll around on Cloud 9 for about two seconds before I roll right off the edge and face-plant in reality again. I am joining a third of the way into the year. Into class A. The class of real Pro Heroes in the making.
I groan, rolling my head back, only to slam it into my bed frame and curse. The tv is still running, and I move to switch it off, but something catches my attention.
In exciting news, students enrolled at UA are currently preparing for the thrilling Plus Ultra Games on the UA campus. Although parents and students alike are nerve-wracked, we are all more than ecstatic to be announcing not only the upcoming tournament for our beloved students at UA, but also the arrival of three new students! This includes: LeNoré, Lena, a transfer from France, Aizoko, Kamin, a recommended student, and Sasoki, Taïyon, a student with...outstanding potential!
Ouch. It's pretty clear in the announcer's voice that no one sees much in me at all. At least not based on my scores. They didn't score my mental abilities. Couldn't have taken 15 minutes to have a few mood swings, huh?
I got a 7/10 on the written test; average, and when I tested in the practical exam, I scored a 6, for rescue points and physical abilities. Once again, everything was about average. Key word: about.
The only reason UA payed any attention to me at all is because my quirk is much stronger than the test results convey.
My quirk is emotional manipulation. Powerful emotional manipulation. I can be so subtle that it's unnoticeable or so powerful that I can control people's actions. I can make someone so sad that they can't get out of bed. Or so attracted to me that they make some...intense moves when they wouldn't normally feel anything at all. I could bring enemies to their knees, too sad to even get up, or bring my friends all the joy that this darkened world can employ. But I don't. Because it's wrong.
All of it, every moment that I manipulate someone. It's all wrong and disgusting and overpowered.
I mash my face into my pillows again, worrying what everyone else calls 'my pretty little head' off. How on earth would I even begin to pass in my classes if I wouldn't use my powers? I'd be the laughingstock of the school. Again.
When I entered the practical exam, there was almost nothing I could do. The fake 'enemies' were robotic, so there were no emotions to manipulate. Of course, I could have manipulated my peers into backing off so I could get points, but first off, I wouldn't do that anyway, and second off, that would be against the rules. We weren't fighting each other for the points. We were showing off physical prowess and virtues.
I'm not ridiculously fit, but I keep a good shape and good diet. And I happen to be pretty damn smart, if I do say so myself. I train to keep my body healthy, and study up on all the techniques and facts needed to be a good hero. I am normal. Normal and good. Not amazing, not terrible. Good.
"Lesgesomsleenow..." I almost drool into my pillows. Yeah. Let's get some...sleep...
I open my eye, just a crack, and am met with another eye. Yellow with a slitted pupil. I startle and sit bolt upright, the streaming light that's pouring in from the window making me squint. I release my lungful of air and reach over to pet him. It was just Bubbles, my cat.
I hop up, rushing around to prepare. I change out of my Voltron T-shirt and shorts into my UA uniform after I've had a quick shower. I pause to examine myself in my mirror. I look actually kinda nice in a suit. Hairband clenched tight between my teeth, I run downstairs while wrangling my short, pale blue waves into a sort-of-bun type updo. I don't really care what it looks like. Functionality over appearance.
My dad is waiting for me at the breakfast table, teacup in hand. A quick glance at my phone tells me I have about five minutes left to prepare. I plunk down my bag next to me and snatch up my smoothie bowl and tea, cramming spoonful after spoonful of the parfait-like mixture. I just finish my tea when my dad pushes a plate toward me with a perfect mound of rice in the center, two eggs in the corner, and mixed veggies in a sauce filling up the rest of the plate. "I made your favorite, special for you, dear. To celebrate my little girl's first day of her journey to becoming the greatest hero in history," he shoots me an honest grin. "And that's an objective statement, too."
I grin back at him. "Thanks dad. That's really sweet." Although I try to savor the dish, it's gone within a few minutes. I feel full and content and ready to take on my journey. I sling my bag over my shoulder and my dad stands up to hug me. His grip is strong and passionate, as proud as proud can be. He brushes a kiss to my forehead and I return the kiss on his cheek. "Bye dad! I love you! Wish me luck, ok?" A firm pat on the back and I'm out the door. "Don't need to," he laughs. "Love you too, sweetheart! Go get em'!"
And just like that, the door is closed, and my feeling of contentment and confidence dissolves. Now, despite the shining sun, the sweet smelling flowers, and the laughs and excited chatter from the street, a feeling of dread hangs over my head.
