DISCLAIMER: I do not own 'Boku No Hero Academia'. All rights belong to Horikoshi Kouhei. I also do not own any of the songs mentioned. All rights belong to the original artists. I only own this fanfiction. Thank you.

Sunrises truly were a thing of beauty. Being awake long before the rest of anybody, watching the sky gradually change colors in a spectrum of pastel hues, as the streams of light continued to rise and stretch across the endless expanse. Perhaps they were best enjoyed with a simple but nourishing breakfast, and a fresh, warm cup of coffee. The mixed aroma in the morning air was a nice way to welcome the day.

...at least, if you weren't already worn out from waking up and remembering instantly where the dawning sun would take you; a destination, permanently mapped out and etched in your groggy mind, inescapable like a maximum security prison. Especially made obvious when you hadn't gotten enough sleep the night before, when your 'day' had effectively ended at around one or two o'clock in the early a.m. hours. Then, the sunrise represented nothing more than the inevitable march to a willingly imposed doom:

A job, at a hole-in-the-wall restaurant plus bar, that didn't pay much and whose owner quite clearly looked down on you and hated your guts. It kept you on your feet from opening until nearly closing, and you were forced to work there six days a week. Even then, the pay was lousy, being only just enough for you to scrape by and manage the bills...which had slowly seemed to be increasing steadily. Hence the long hours and stuffed schedule.

But, out of all the places you'd looked into or applied for employment, in three, four months, even half a year's time or longer...they were the only ones who'd responded back to you. That was about six years ago. They were willing to give you the go-ahead to add on to your shift schedule too, instead of having to look for a second job, and potentially spend another few months in work hunting limbo-hell. It sucked, sure, but it was better than being hungry and homeless.

And, more than anything else in the world, you couldn't afford to lose your home. It was all you had left. Of the past, of your hope...of them.

Such was the position that twenty-four year old Uraraka Ochako found herself in: staring vacantly out of a smudged glass window, two bowls before her on the cluttered dining table and a mug of caffeine in her hand. Outside, the soft twittering of birds could be picked up in her tired hearing, as they nestled among the high treetops that surrounded her property. Before her, a bowl of buttered rice was half-empty, while her instant noodle cup was just about gone, only a few sparse pieces, garnishes and dregs of broth lingering at the bottom. The coffee in her droopy grip was her second cup of the day, but it had gone cold a while ago.

This was her life, her existence. Had been since she was eighteen. Over time, she'd grown used to it; almost entirely numb, even. Almost. That didn't mean that she looked forward to each new day with a smile on her face, as warm and bright as the sun itself. No, that smile came for later, once she'd finished getting ready, and had locked the door behind her, before making her way to the train station. Don't let them see you sweat, isn't that what they'd say? Fake it until you make it?

Maybe, if she knew what exactly 'it' was that she was striving for.

Every morning, like clockwork, no matter how few hours she'd slept – and it usually was few, even more so last night – she'd wake up to her alarm, set for five-thirty and blaring with the shrillest, most annoying tone she'd been able to find on her phone.

Many times, she'd been sorely tempted to just throw the darn thing across the room, say "Screw it", and grab another couple hours of sleep...but she knew, deep down, that she couldn't do it. She didn't have it in her to make herself deliberately late. More to the point, the few times in the beginning when she'd been late on accident, her boss had made sure she'd suffered for it later. Both workload-wise, and in regards to her paycheck. Ultimately, the cost of skipping out, even by just a few minutes, was nowhere near enough worth the risk for her.

A strand of loose, shoulder-length brown hair fell in front of her eyes, but it was only when it started tickling her nose and chin that she bothered doing anything about it – which was to simply blow it away from her vision. Of course, it fell right back down, earning a huff and a pout from the groggy brunette. Oh well. She still had to get ready, so once she'd finished smoothing it all out, it should stay in place. Hopefully.

Usually, her bed-head was manageable after a few good sweep-throughs of the brush, but it would be just her luck if today was the day that a stubborn piece decided to take front and center stage. She was still drained from the activities of yesterday.

Finally, she brought the cup of chilled brew to her lips, instantly making a face at its temperature and the fact that all the sweetness seemed to have been sucked down to the very bottom in one thick clump. However, she'd been the one who'd prepared the cup in the first place, and she couldn't stand unsweetened coffee. It just wasn't her. No matter her stress levels, she wasn't bitter. Or, at the very least, she tried her best not to be.

Besides, she was most likely going to prep a third one after this, so if anything, she could wash it out and attempt to ease up a bit on the milk and sugar? And finish it promptly before the additions had a chance to sink and settle. Yeah, that sounded good.

After another few minutes at the table, Uraraka was done with her meal, and took the dishes to the sink. The chopsticks and rice bowl went in, while the styrofoam cup was chucked cleanly into the nearby trash can. It was getting full; she needed to remember to take it out later. There was still a little room left, so it could wait until tonight. Grabbing her third cup of fuel, she proceeded to season it as always, and headed back to her place at the table. Once it was gone, then she'd go and wash everything.

Dragging her gaze away from the lightening skyline, Uraraka allowed her eyes to wander over the mess that took up half of the old table, where she and her parents had enjoyed many a breakfast together how many years ago, in this home the pair had built out of love, sweat, and their own hands. The lacy off-pink tablecloth was barely visible under the books, printer-copier-scanner, her laptop, a bunch of unlined paper, old newspapers, and multiple opened letters. Most of them were from the bank, detailing her balance for each month, or bills, for everything that the house required to run. Electric, water, internet, and phone, for starters.

Lastly, there were all the grocery receipts, showcasing just how much food she had to buy regularly – because with her meager earnings and most of it going towards the household, she couldn't afford to stock up on big portions. There were a good handful of times where she'd forgone the market entirely, to instead fill up at the local convenience store.

The bottom line was, Uraraka didn't have the greatest, healthiest diet out there. It also didn't help that, even with a working stove and oven, she still wasn't much of a cook. Most of her food went straight into the microwave, or at the very least, was boiled in water. Not all her noodles came in pre-packaged cups, but that wasn't really saying a lot.

Her stare continued to drift over the scenery, the layout of the house she'd called home for as long as she'd been alive. Even with the mess and aging, it was still beautiful to her. The pale cream yellow walls, with various photographs tacked up onto the plaster. Mostly frames with multiple spaces, so each one had about ten different smaller shots stuffed inside. Memory after memory could be found here: her parents getting married, Uraraka being brought home as a newborn, the start of their construction company and the progress of this very house being built. A few holiday get-togethers with family, relatives she hadn't seen in years...or at least, since...

There were other cherished moments on display as well, like Uraraka's first day at school, or various birthday celebrations. There were a couple photos of the day her parents had renewed their wedding vows, when she'd been ten. A memorable trip to the zoo, when they'd been caught up in a crowd around an open-top exhibition. Funny story, that. If it hadn't been for her Father's 'skills', she might've fallen right in. A handful of other pieces in time, like losing her first tooth, cutting her hair short, going from elementary to middle school, then middle to high, and finally graduating there. That had been six years ago now...

The hardwood floors were a comforting, natural shade of brown. They weren't as glossy as they once were, but they remained sturdy. A few chips and cracks hid up in the higher corners; being involved in construction, her Father had intended to patch them up eventually, but...'eventually' had never come. It was okay though; in Uraraka's opinion, they added charm, showing that the house was homemade and well-lived in. The couch was a little battered and faded, but it still held the weight of however many people sat on it at a time. Before, it had been the three of them - when her Father hadn't been sprawled out on the floor in front of the low table, that was.

Following some further silent musings and appraisals, Uraraka finished her third coffee, and headed to the sink to clean up. It was almost seven a.m by this point, and she had to be out of the house soon. The manager, a.k.a her boss, would arrive there first; it was on him to unlock the doors. But although the restaurant officially opened at nine a.m, the servers had to be early to help set up. A bit of cleaning, resetting the chairs, counting and placing the silverware – stuff like that.

The kitchen staff would show up shortly after, to prep the necessary food stock and make sure it and the equipment were up to par for the day's work. Even then, the waiters were still obligated to provide their share of the heavy physical duties; the owner considered it beneath himself to engage in such activities. And whoever had last call after dinner rush would take the responsibility of showing up early with the boss, even sooner than she already did.

There had been a handful of instances though, when Uraraka somehow wound up being the final face trooping out the door. Amazingly, last night hadn't been one of them. But in return, her train had been halted due to a commotion, so she'd had to take a different line, which required two stopovers to switch, before heading home.

That wasn't the point here. When she'd had to assist in opening up the following day, it had been at a rushed, breakneck pace, because for whatever reason, waking up an hour sooner was something her body couldn't handle. She'd managed to get things going, but her boss had been sure to point out half a dozen things she'd missed or messed up on.

All she'd been able to do was bow her head repeatedly, and offer out the same soft apologies. It was never good enough. Eventually, he'd head off to his quarters in the back, but the damage had been done: Uraraka was on edge and paranoid the rest of her shift.

The rest of the staff were privy to the unhealthy relationship between the two of them, many having witnessed it for themselves on multiple occasions. She'd even talked about her gripes, once in a great while, to a few of the employees she was close to. They commiserated, but all they could offer was the advice to not let it get to her, and make him eat his words with her work ethic and continued steady performance.

Sometimes, Uraraka couldn't tell if he was really the one at fault, or if it was her. A good portion of why he disliked her so much was based on a certain 'quality' that she lacked, but everyone else had. And it had nothing to do with drive or personality. It was something she couldn't control – hadn't been able to control since she'd first learned her diagnosis as a child. Maybe, just maybe, if she hadn't been born so...flawed, he wouldn't have hated her so much.

Or, even better, she could've gotten nicer job opportunities, where she'd have been more useful than just the most basic of labor.

All around this world, was an existence like that of a comic book: many, many years ago, strange events had begun happening all over, with the birth of a glowing child. After that, more people were beginning to display and develop bizarre abilities, from flight to laser vision, shape-shifting, super strength – the stuff of heroes. Things that had originally been thought of as nothing more than imagination, yet here they were, on display in real life. Eventually, it was far more 'normal' for people to be born with these abilities than without.

They grew to be known as 'Quirks', and were highly prized. Sometimes they were simple, other times they were more dramatic. Ultimately though, they all bore their own use. They changed the quality of life to the point that soon, those with Quirks were able to work on their own merit, as 'Heroes'. Yes, heroism became a legitimate profession. There were even schools, high-ranking academies all across the globe, to train youths on how to use their powers properly, and eventually join the rest as shining stars in their own right, protecting the populace in a way that regular forces couldn't. One of the most well-known was even situated in Japan, UA, or 'Yuuei', as it was pronounced.

Even without becoming a hero though, those with Quirks could be quite useful to whatever career they wound up in. Any business would be happy to have a wide range of individuals with their own unique powers. They were more than just helpful in general job duties, they could even attract customers and attention. This was where Uraraka, in her honest opinion, 'failed', no matter how wide she stretched her smile.

She'd been born without a Quirk. And, during her childhood, she'd been told by her doctor after an exam, to see why she hadn't yet shown signs of having one:

Her body was missing the necessary trait for Quirks to grow. Both of her parents had Quirks: her Mother had a superior cooking prowess and intellect for said subject, able to make full meals out of sparse or unconventional ingredients. Her mind worked to process various methods of preparing the food for maximum value and health – she could even take things like poisonous plants, and find a way to drain out the toxins before turning them into something edible. She just couldn't always guarantee the taste, even if they were nutritious and cooked properly. But that didn't matter. Even if money hadn't been something they'd had in piles, Uraraka had never gone hungry growing up.

Her Father, on the other hand, had a Quirk that allowed him to keep his balance, no matter the terrain or surface he was walking across, as well as being able to keep the things in his grasp perfectly balanced as well. He could only carry so much at a time – super strength didn't factor into his ability – but whatever he did haul, could easily be stacked on top of one another, without risk of falling or loss. It had come in handy while working at his construction business, especially with the lack of funds to buy pricey equipment, or the extra hands for labor. This was also how he'd been able to keep Uraraka from becoming tiger chow when she'd been little and they'd been jostled at the zoo the one day.

Either one of those Quirks, in some form or another, would've been beneficial to Uraraka in her current profession. She couldn't really cook, and her balance was average. She'd had a few shifts where a plate or bowl had been dropped - mainly in the beginning, when she hadn't been used to being on her feet so much, or handling that much weight. Her skills were nothing to brag about.

By now, it was around seven, maybe a minute or two after. Uraraka had gathered her things together, and was dressed and freshened up in her casual outfit for the day: short denim coat, and a black tank top with matching skinny jeans. Her tidy enough looking sneakers were by the front door, and her purse with keys, wallet and phone was resting on the couch. There was one more thing she had to take care of, then she'd be on her way.

Pulling her hair into a low ponytail – work regulation, better to take care of it now rather than later, when she could easily forget, and it would hopefully help tame any unruly hairs – she stopped in front of another small, low table against the wall, beside the old TV and facing the couch. Carefully, she knelt down on the worn cushion in front. Before her was an incense burner, with a stick that needed to be changed, as well as two candles, some flowers in a vase, a small wooden post with carved characters, and finally, a large portrait in a sturdy frame.

In the picture was a couple: a man with brown locks and a stocky build, smiling broadly at the camera. Beside him stood a rounder, shorter woman, also with brown hair at medium length, and a sweet, serene smile pulling at her lips. Between them, in her secure hold, was a chubby-cheeked little girl, grinning widely and arms stretched out, as if welcoming the world. The scenery behind them was simple, the open yard surrounding their property; their house was built at the very end of the cul-de-sac, surrounded mainly by green and space, not other neighbors.

Clasping her hands together, Uraraka began to pray.

When she'd been eighteen, fresh out of high school and looking forward to college...it had happened. The day that, even now, still haunted her memories, and her heart. The pain had dulled somewhat, and the scar had formed over, but she had never forgotten.

It had been raining; the water had been pouring down in full force, with thunder rumbling on the horizon. She'd been at home, sitting in the living room looking over forms for various schools, when she'd seen her parents heading out. Asking where they could've possibly been going in such weather, her Father had given her a sheepish, tired grin.

"Ah...nowhere far. The guy who was s'pposed to deliver the supplies decided to put it off 'cause o' the rain. But..." He'd begun scratching behind his neck, letting out a heavy sigh. "We finally got a project the o'er day, and the client wants us to start as soon as we can. Tomorrow, even. He's impatient, but it'll pay good. And we can sure use the funds righ' about now. We just need those supplies. I know the roads ain't exactly ideal for travel, but..."

Her Mother had chuckled lightly then, patting his arm and giving Uraraka a knowing smile. "That's why I'm goin' with him. He needs a second pair o' eyes – and in this condition, maybe another pair o' hands, too." Her husband had started to protest, but she'd shushed him as they'd made their way to the door. Reassuring their daughter that they'd be back soon enough, they'd headed out in the truck, driving down the road in the ever-flowing storm.

Uraraka hadn't had any reason to be suspicious; of course she trusted her parents. She'd just wait for them to come back, and once they did, she could talk over college courses and testing with them. So that's just what she'd done.

She'd waited. And waited. And waited. One hour had become two. Then three, and four. The sky had darkened by this point, though the rain had shown no signs of slowing. Her parents hadn't returned home. She'd been about to call her Father's cell phone, out of concern, when the doorbell had rung. She'd gone to answer it, wondering if perhaps it was her parents, for some reason unable to get in...

But instead, she'd been greeted by two grim-faced police officers in crisp, drab suits, asking for her name. Confirming that, yes, she was Uraraka Ochako, their expressions hadn't gotten any brighter, as they'd proceeded to tell her the horrible news...

Her parents had been in a car accident.

Looking back over the whole scenario and how it had gone down, Uraraka supposed she should've seen it coming sooner. Police don't usually show up on your doorstep for any sort of 'good' reason. Still, she'd kept up that clueless optimism, even after hearing the ugly truth.

At first, she'd laughed nervously, saying there must've been some mistake. The expression on her face had felt tight, more like a grimace or a ghastly grin, while the chuckle from her throat had seemed like a strangled cough. The demeanor of the officers before her hadn't changed however and again, they'd repeated themselves. It was only when they'd begun to explain the exact details, that Uraraka had finally felt herself begin to crack.

The storm had been coming down hard, when her parents had been heading back from their supply trip. The roads had been slippery, and vision had been pretty limited. As they'd been about to make a turn, a car had come hurtling down from the right, mistaking the lights in their blurred windshield. And their vehicle had not been small. Because of the force from the crash and the weather conditions, plus speed on the other driver's end, their truck had gone skidding and flying, before slamming into a post on its back.

Both cars were in terrible shape, but her parents', in particular, had been just a mess of crushed, twisted metal, hissing smoke, and broken glass. It had taken a while to get the pair of them out, just to assess what condition they'd been in. Unfortunately, there hadn't been any Heroes patrolling that particular area at the time. The sight...had not been pretty.

By the time the ambulance had started transporting them to the hospital, the two of them were fading fast, with multiple injuries resulting in internal bleeding. The supplies they'd been transporting had contributed to this, one of the metal poles breaking the rear window and stabbing through the driver's seat.

Uraraka had already been throwing on a coat and slipping into her sneakers, purse on her shoulder, ready to run the entire way down to the hospital in the downpour. The officers had given her a ride instead, and she'd practically burst through the doors, rushing to the main counter in a disheveled state. Her eyes had been stinging, breaths labored as she'd pleaded to know where her parents were.

She'd been quickly led to a waiting area, where she'd first been informed of her Father's passing. He'd died shortly after arrival. Her Mother had been rushed into the ER for an emergency operation; her ribs were broken, among other things, and one had punctured her lung. There was also severe head trauma. The staff had answered her, seriously and honestly: they didn't know if she could be saved, let alone what state she'd be in upon regaining consciousness.

For another three or four hours, maybe even five or longer, Uraraka had sat in her chair, unable to focus on anything else. Time was a non-factor for her, as were her hunger or bathroom concerns. All she'd cared about was her parents. Part of her still couldn't accept this had been happening. Another had been screaming itself raw, at the thought of her Father not coming home. And the last one was frightened, to the point of being sick, at the thought of her Mother fighting to survive.

Her body had been shaking uncontrollably, as she'd continued to stare at the same patch of scuffed tile beneath her shoes. Eventually, her vision had started to swim and her head grew heavy. She'd had to shut her eyes, trying to keep herself together. Deep breathing, to control the rapid heartbeats and her pulse, throbbing in her ears.

Then, the door had opened. And they'd given her the news. Her Mother...hadn't made it.

The memories began to warp then. A lot of things had become muddled at that point, really. She couldn't quite recall what her reaction to the news had been. Perhaps she'd just stood there, staring off into space until the Doctor had finally brought her back down to Earth, when she'd much rather have died among the stars.

Possibly, she might've broken down into a pathetic, sobbing and screaming mess, sinking to the floor as her legs had given way. The painful thud of her knees against linoleum was all too easy to imagine. Or maybe, she'd actually vomited, as she'd felt like doing earlier, and they'd had to call in a janitor to help clean up.

She couldn't remember, and probably never would by this point. It had been six years ago. For all she knew, none of those things had happened. Or every one of them had. But that had effectively been the beginning of the end; a farewell to childhood, as mortality had become far more apparent than she'd ever wanted to realize...

"Hi, Dad...hi, Mom...I hope you guys are doing okay..." Or, about as well as could be expected for those who'd passed on. Uraraka truly had no idea if there was something, a 'great beyond' after this life. But the talking and prayers, they helped. It was somewhat reassuring, the image of her Mother and Father, watching over her and all she did. Would they be happy, seeing her working to the bone, in order to keep a roof above her head – and their memory alive?

Hands still clasped tightly together, Uraraka let out a slow breath, before continuing on. "Had another late night...didn't get much sleep either, heh. I know...I should take better care of myself. I should be happy..." A thin, sad smile tugged at the corners of her lips; that was something her parents had instilled in her, from her earliest years: do what you love. Don't do something just because you felt obligated, or expected. It was a major reason as to why they wouldn't let her take up at their business – they didn't want their burdens to become hers, or for her to feel like their livelihood had to be hers, either.

But...she was happy, wasn't she? Even with everything that had happened? She didn't want to lose those memories they'd accumulated over those eighteen wonderful years. The company may've been disbanded after their passing, but the house had been left to her, and like hell Uraraka was going to let it go to ruin.

Every inch of the property held some sort of personal attachment to her – from the kitchen, where she'd made so many messes trying to learn how to cook under her Mother's guiding hands, and ultimately didn't succeed – to the living room, where her Father used to lie down with a beer and a monthly anthology, chuckling over the comics – to the bathroom, where both of them had been struggling to unclog the sink one day, but instead wound up popping off one of the handles, spraying water everywhere.

Uraraka had come rushing in at the sounds of squealing, shouting, and a bit of cursing, to find her parents thoroughly drenched, finally willing to give in and call an actual plumber. Just because they ran a construction company didn't mean they knew how to do everything. Parents weren't flawless, even if they were the first closest thing their children had to heroes. They weren't immortal.

A quick shake of her head then. "But, it's okay! I'm okay – today's a new day, and I can always make it better than the one before. I just have to keep moving forwards, looking up. "Keep my chin up" - that's what you'd say, right? Whenever I was upset about anything. Today is yesterday's tomorrow, and come what may, I have to make the best of it."

Refusing to let her misty gaze form into salty, hot tears, Uraraka forced the smile onto her face, hands letting go as she bowed to the small shrine. "I'll keep working hard, so you don't have to worry about me. And then, one day...one day, things'll get better...one day...I promise." With those last parting words, Uraraka stood up, grabbing her purse and blinking away the remaining droplets in her eyes. The sun had risen a bit more, and upon checking her phone, she saw that it was now almost ten after seven.

It would take a short walk to get to the station, but then she had to wait for the train itself. Hopefully, it'd be on time. Following that, the ride would be somewhere around thirty minutes, before she'd reach her stop, and walk the last three blocks to the restaurant. If all went well, she'd arrive there right before eight a.m. She could clock in and get changed, then get started on setting up and making sure that everything was tidy and up to standards. Hard though the shifts could be on her, as well as her boss, she couldn't fault him for wanting to run a clean business.

She'd been to a few other small joints in the area, when she'd actually had the funds for a quick bite to eat outside, and their facilities, let alone their dining areas...left much to be desired. Needless to say, she hadn't returned. If her money was going to cheap meals, she'd rather it wind up at the convenience store, than a place that couldn't even deal with roaches, let alone remember to check their restrooms, or cook their food fully.

The trek to her usual destination was as uneventful as ever. Office workers, men and women, shuffling across the streets. Kids of varying ages, waiting for the bus or just walking straight to their schools. For the older ones in their sailor uniforms, high-collared suits, or far more business-looking apparel, they were on their way to catch the same sort of ride as she. The sunlight was streaming over the buildings, lighting up the neatly built and arranged homes, shops, and roads. The scenery was peaceful with a homey pallet. This was where Uraraka had lived her entire life, and she had no desire to move anytime soon. So much of her existence was tied to the area, not just the house she cared for.

Like the playground, where she'd tried, and failed, on the stretch of smooth winding pavement, to learn how to rollerblade, falling on her rear more times than she could count. Or the one incident, when she'd gone straight backwards over the bars of the rocket-shaped jungle gym, falling about three or four rungs and winding up with a head full of sand. No injuries; she'd just been more startled than anything else.

There'd used to be an ice cream parlor nearby too, where her Mom and Dad would take her afterwards. She'd loved their strawberry ice cream, sometimes even getting a bowl of it mixed with chocolate and sprinkles. They'd closed shortly before her parents had passed on. A shame, really. She hadn't been able to find another place whose frozen treats were quite as good.

It had been a family-run establishment, but she supposed when the majority of the kids in the area had gotten older and moved on to college and the like, they hadn't brought in enough customers, and thus closed the doors. Such was the unspoken risk of becoming an adult: not everything would grow up and age right alongside you.

Or everyone.

As she stood at the platform, checking her phone for the time and to make sure she hadn't missed any updates – about twenty minutes after seven, currently – a few snippets of a nearby conversation drifted into her hearing. A couple of high school girls were eagerly chatting about something that happened in the news recently. Apparently, some sort of standoff between police and a villain, that had been effectively ended when two pro heroes had shown up on the scene.

"Yeah, I know! Isn't it crazy? Who would've thought that being able to become like liquid would come in handy like that? He was totally able to slide under the door and get the drop on the guy!" The speaker, a girl in a grey uniform with long, slightly tinted locks, was waving her arms wildly, a wide grin on her face. "Oh, oh - and he was really cute once he reformed, too!"

Her friend, in the same uniform but a bit taller with straight, shoulder-length dark hair, nodded in excited agreement. "Mm-hm! And don't forget, the one who disarmed the bombs! To be able to tell at a glance how to dismantle them – and then be able to, with just their hands, no tools needed! How smart d'you think she is outside of her job, with a Quirk like that?" At this, the two girls let out wistful sighs.

"It's too bad...gee, I would've loved to get into one of the hero schools out here. But you need really good grades, and Quirks, to make any sort of impression. And my Quirk is like, the lamest of the lame." The second girl huffed, before holding up a hand, palm flat, and expelling a little puff of air. "It's warm, so I guess it's good for drying off quickly, but I have to make sure it doesn't get too hot, unless I wanna singe my skin. I can't really do much else with it."

Her friend nodded sympathetically, offering her condolences. "It's okay, I'm in the same boat as you." Shutting her eyes, the longer-haired female took in a deep breath – and almost instantly, her locks rose straight up, spiking out sharply. Her friend had to step back, to make sure she didn't get poked. With another sigh, her hair went limp, and the girl shook her head sadly. "I mean, if I wanted to go punk for a day, it'd be okay, but...I don't like Rock 'n' Roll...and it starts to hurt after a little bit, too."

The girls started heading off then, talking about Quirks and what it would be like if they could've made a living for themselves with 'good' ones. Their voices faded into the general morning buzz of the station, but their words still rang in Uraraka's head.

Yeah, maybe those Quirks weren't the most conventional for a hero, but even then – having a Quirk was better than having none at all. At least, in her opinion. People like her were few and far between nowadays, and that wasn't a good thing. Even as her parents had continued to reassure her that it didn't matter whether she had one or not, and their love had never wavered, there was still the rest of the world to deal with. Like the kids in school, who would constantly tease her, or even used their Quirks against her, just to get a reaction. The adults, who would try to hide their disappointment politely when they'd meet her and ask the all-important question: "What can you do?"

Or just the media, in general, exemplifying Quirks and raising up heroes, practically to the status of gods. Maybe they didn't mean to, but...there really weren't that many role models like her who were celebrated anymore. Even the police and such had been delegated to second string; if you weren't 'abnormal', then you weren't 'normal' at all. You didn't fit in. And especially having been born to two hardworking people with Quirks of their own...to those on the outside, it was nothing short of a tragedy.

A sharp chill down her spine. Just like when her parents had died, then? Where there hadn't been any heroes on duty in the area, to do something, anything, to keep things from turning out the way they had?

Uraraka felt her heart skip, and she quickly bit down on the inside of her cheek. No. That was dangerous territory she was heading towards. It was nobody's fault that this had happened. It was just unfortunate circumstances. The heroes hadn't been ignoring her parents. She didn't want to hate them, or anybody with Quirks. Holding grudges would only make you sick. That's not what her parents would want for her. She needed to be strong, and make a life for herself where she could be happy the right way – and so could they.

At the moment, things weren't perfect. She didn't have a lot of social contacts, she was constantly working, her pay was meager, her boss didn't respect her, and she was Quirkless, but it. Was. Okay. It would all be okay. As long as she kept her chin up, and kept moving forward, things would turn out alright. Good things came to those who waited, right?

She just had to continue working hard, biding her time, until that 'something' came along; the 'something' that she'd been looking for, preparing for, all this while. The 'it' that would change everything, give her a true purpose. Then she wouldn't have to worry. Then her parents wouldn't have to worry.

Just smile, and wave...watch your past life saying goodbye, as you stand on the platform, waiting for the future to roll in from down the tracks.

The sound of a whistle caught in her hearing, and Uraraka straightened her posture. The train was finally at the station. Putting away her jumbled thoughts, she did her best to bear a pleasant, if somewhat reserved exterior appearance, and steel herself for the tasks of the day ahead. She couldn't work well if her head was tangled in negativity, and she really didn't need another lecture from her boss. Not that he wouldn't find something else to nag her on, but she wasn't about to give him any more ammunition than he already apparently had.

With that, the doors slid open and, after letting the people on board step out first, Uraraka proceeded to slip in, heading for the back. Cheerful though she may've wanted to be, she really didn't fancy being blinded by the sun. A bright future was one thing. Needing shades because she couldn't see where she was going was another entirely.

If at first you don't succeed, dust yourself off and try again...

A/N: 'peeks in' Uhh...hi there...?

Yeah, I'm...kinda-sorta still a newbie here, to this fandom; I only recently got into the series, but I fell in love almost immediately. I'm caught up on the manga, and I've read through the available Chapters more than once, plus a WHOLE lotta fanfic. But...I'm still not sure if I'm doing this right.

I haven't written a new, much less COMPLETED fanfiction in a few YEARS, by this point. I worry I might've lost my touch. But, I really enjoy this series, as I do writing - though recently, I've been feeling kind of stressed with some of my other stories. So...I've decided to take a break on them, and put my focus somewhere else, trying out something new. I've had a handful of Plot Bunnies running around my head here for 'BNHA', and after many brainstorming sessions and failed attempts...this is the one I've settled on working with.

Yes, it's an AU; I'm not really good at writing anything else. Though, it's closer to canon than most of the other AU fics I've done over the years. The general outline for the universe is the same [Quirks, Heroes, Villains, UA], but certain character roles/histories have altered. Some events have also been rearranged to happen further down the line, or with new elements added in. I can only hope I'll be able to pull it off. As always, even with these differences, I'm still going to do my best to keep characters familiar, and not go off the rails with OOC, no mater how much or how little their roles/experiences may've changed.

Also: I know this beginning intro is kind of...depressing AF? ^^; I apologize-this was NOT the way I had imagined it happening. But, this is where the muse took me, and as a starting point, I think...I'm satisfied with it? I'm happy with the general flow and setup, though I'm still new here, so characterization is something I'm iffy on. Uraraka strikes me as the kind of person to smile, even when her heart is breaking, and not want to dump her grief on others.

She also doesn't strike me as the bitter type - though at the same time, this doesn't mean that she can never experience negative feelings, or cry. I just see it as being maybe, a more...personal thing with her? Like, she only started crying when alone on the phone with her parents during the sport's festival, while being cheery with Deku beforehand. I don't know, I see a LOT of strength in her, both in her skills and spirit. Am I making any sense here?

Umm...anyway, yeah. Hopefully, the humor will start picking up in the next few Chapters - otherwise, I gotta change the Genre XD - and I can get more into the main story. If anyone here likes what I'm doing, please...drop me a line? I get REALLY worried when it's quiet; if people are telling me whether it's good or bad, at least I know where I stand. But when nobody says anything at all...then I get scared. I get lost. So please, don't be afraid to come and say hi. As I mentioned before, I am still new to this series. So if I'm messing up on anything, I'd like to be told now, while this story is still in its 'infancy', if you will. I have a better shot at fixing things, and giving both you guys and the source material the respect and quality you deserve.

Also...writing is one of the only things that I seem to have any sort of proclivity towards. Hell, maybe one day, I'd like to make a living off of it, this 'something' that makes me happy. But...I need the feedback. It doesn't need to be lengthy, or spell-checked, or in English, or signed in. It just needs to be THERE. No set amount, just...as long as SOMEBODY'S saying SOMETHING, then I'm good. I won't be afraid.

Alrighty then...bye. 'quickly runs away to hide back under my rock'