[begin message]
[loading…]
[Naoru]
u here yet?
hello?
oi hina i know ur reading this
l
[Hinata]
?
I'm busy
What's up?
l
[Naoru]
what happen
UA
what did the furball
do
l
[Hinata]
Oh?
That's a secret
;)
l
[Naoru]
bastard
tell me
oi
bastard
[end message.]
A tap on the microphone. Heavy coughing, followed by a loud ring of feedback. Amidst the faces in the audience- primarily the middle-aged, apathy on their faces- a collective wince flickered through. One of the stage crew jogged across to the podium, kneeling down slightly to whisper something into rounded ears.
They readjusted the stand, lowering it to the newly-freed man. The figure smiled genially (though it appeared to be his default expression), a scar across his eye serving both as a reminder and a potential threat to those in his audience.
"Ahem," Nezu cleared his throat once more. "Good day, everyone!"
Dead silence.
His black, beady eyes looked over the room. Not an oddity in sight. Each dressed in the desolate greys of their respective workforce, an ocean of murky shadows. They lacked the relaxed postures of a typical friday afternoon- instead, they stared like vultures eyeing a carcass; hunger barely concealed behind exhaustion. He notes the click of a lighter. The shuffle of feet. The silence, held in bated breath.
He sighs, tough crowd, before he straightens up. "...Anywhom! I'm here to announce some rather exciting news! That I shall be heading the brand new UA Academy, for students in possession of Quirks. The rate of Quirk-related crime has increased to unacceptable levels. With the founding of this Academy, we will lead the new generation into the Hero's Journey and create a bright future!"
A pair of feet shift in the crowd. Nezu catches the glint of a reflection before a aluminium can is flung from the hoard, narrowly avoiding his head.
Inside a darkened room, small strands of light flicker through a barred window to cast long lines on pale skin. The boy groans, lifting his head as sunlight hits his eyes in spite of his bangs.
The room is indistinctive, save for the metal door; bolted shut with a little chain connecting it to a lock. He knows this place- vaguely. A standard holding cell, with one sink, one bed and one little hole in the floor in place of a bathroom, covered in their drab coating of steel-coloured paint. Not that the toilet's needed, mind. It's not like there's been any food slid in here.
Maybe they're hoping he'll starve to death and they won't have to deal with him.
Clang.
He cracks open an eye again. The chain wriggles in its socket, before slowly being pushed away from the lock, falling loose. A yellow hue glinted through the underside of the door, opening to reveal a flickering light bulb on an eggshell white wall.
Holding a metal ring of keys, he notes the uniform; dark blue vest, white shirt, walkie-talkie on his belt. An officer with one hand resting on his baton and the other clutching a clipboard, shooting a worried glance towards an unfamiliar face.
Shiko's gaze drifts over to the other man. Black hair brushed back with no visible loose strands, jaw set in a half-glare, half-grimace. His eyes are dark, narrowed and with an unreadable expression. Nodding, the officer drops the key in the man's open palm, lingering for a few moments.
"Go tell Komorebi the situation." A pause, a momentary hesitation, then, "well?"
"Sir, are you sure about…?"
The lull in the conversation is amplified by the subtle drip of sweat down the officers brow. After a few moments of being glowered at, the officer twists on his heel and disappears down and out of sight. Shiko's eyes follow him, only to snap back at the sound of a throat being cleared.
"It's Yonko, correct?"
A moment of the usual queasiness passes. He shakes his head- no, not that name, he refuses to go back to that- "Shiko. It's- my name is Shiko. Well, that's what they call me, I guess."
"...You guess?"
Shrugging back, he feels his stomach twist into knots. "Yeah. Not a big deal. And 'sides, I need a name. It works. Better than nothing." Something about the posture makes him uneasy- it's the height, he thinks. Something about being smaller, reminds him of how they used to call him the runt of the litter.
The man doesn't comment on it. "I see. Well, I suppose it works." He motions Shiko over. "C'mon. It's got you listed as Watanabe on the form, and frankly, I don't want to see their reactions when they find out." He holds the door open for Shiko to shamble out, who looks up to gauge his expression.
"What," his voice catches in his throat, "what's going to happen to me?"
He hums. "Well, that's up to you, isn't it?"
Hey guys! We're Deux and Kit, here with a different take on a BNHA SYOC. Heavily inspired by Spartah's fic 'Selfish', we decided to take a crack at a darker look into the BNHA universe; namely, the beginning of Quirks and the effect it'd have on society.
Ergo, this fic is a prequel of sorts. It takes place just after the creation of UA, and ultimately focuses on humanity before most of humanity gained access to Quirks- medical care, understanding and all around knowledge of Quirks is rather limited, people are naturally afraid and children who have most Quirks are looked down upon or abandoned all together. This story takes place roughly 35 years after the first Quirk was announced, so please keep that in mind!
Research has been done into the bodies of people who possess Quirks, and thus the lack of an extra joint in the pinky toe is a common fact. Most children are tested for Quirks at a young age, starting from around four years old.
The story is set in the beginning of UA- it's the very first class of UA and it takes place 27 years after the Luminescent Baby incident. The form for this can be found on our profile ^^ Thank you!
EDIT [09/04]: Some things have been changed on the submission page. If you've already submitted a character, please ensure that the latest additions to the forms are sent in as well. Sorry for the changes!