Disclaimer: all characters belong to trigger, I own nothing.
A/N: this is an slight AU.
WARNING: There is mentions of self harm in this so don't read if this may upset you.
She had known that she was different from the time she was seven years old when she had pushed the boy who had decided that it would be funny to pull her hair, only to have him land halfway across the playground.
She knew she was different when the other kids started laughing and calling her names, some which seemed silly now that she thought back to it but it still hurt neither the less.
But what really reminded her that she was different, unwanted even, was the fact that her father never came to visit...Not even once.
Now she was standing above the polished gravestone, wondering if he had even cared about her at all.
Why do I even give a shit about him?
She wondered, trying to blink back the tears that threatened to spill over.
He didn't even write me that often I shouldn't care! I mean who the hell writes just to tell them to come visit during break.
She thought just as a voice stated from the charred remains of the doorway.
"So it is true….He was alive."
Whirling around she saw a girl only a few years older than her standing there, her expression blank.
"Who the hell are you?"
She demanded, earning a look that was similar to a glare.
"I could be asking you the same thing." The other girl retorted.
"None of ya damned business! I asked ya first anyway!"
The older girl just sighed and rolled her eyes.
"Satsuki Kiryuin."
After a bit of a pause Ryuko nodded and responded
"I'm Ryuko Matoi."