Disclaimer: I do not own BNHA.
i ; faded
in which our protagonist
is a very rational person
"I really think you're being unfair right now."
Not so idle hands raked through silky strands of black. Individual tresses were pushed back by her hand as her fingernails brushed against her scalp in a gesture of mild irritation. She slanted forward with her elbows resting against the counter just a few inches before her. A brow lifted upwards and she lifted one of her arms, allowing her cheek to rest within her palm while her free hand tapped against the metallic surface.
The man standing before her was not amused. Arms locked firmly on his chest and thick brows furrowed antagonistically, he released a deep huff from his nose, stance unmoving and absolute.
"No," he accented, dragging out the word for as long as he could. The girl clicked her tongue and leaned forward a bit more.
"Please?" she asked, plastering the most tawny smile she could muster on her face.
"No!"
She reacted by throwing her head back and unleashing a loud, dramatic groan from her lungs. She staggered back a few spaces, nearly tripping over her own clumsy footing before turning on her heel. She glared disdainfully at the man behind the wide lens of a pair of glasses; gray eyes filled with indignancy and contempt before she stuck her chin proudly into the air.
"Fine," she yielded. "I'll take my patronage elsewhere."
Not that it mattered. She knew this as she stepped out onto the busy street and once again had to be a part of this world. The same world that made it so that she lost her train pass, and had no money to buy another one, and was still far from home, and she couldn't get a bike even if she begged the very rude shop owner to get one for free. A sigh escaped her lips and she, for the second time, raked her fingers through her hair. Black bounced into gray and then curtained around her face as the sickeningly familiar sense of defeat paraded against her skin.
So this is how I die.
Chinatsu knew she wouldn't. But sometimes, such thoughts— as morbid as they were— is what she needed to instill within her a sense of urgency. With that urgency, she could force her mind into overdrive to think of another idea, another plan. What could she possibly do to make it home with no money or method of communication? Beg a ride, she mused. But she's seen the movies. Unless she wanted to end up as the inspiration for a horror film, that very much wasn't a choice. Even if she had no others.
Ask for someone's pass. It was tempting, surely. Chinatsu leaned against the wall of the same building she had just left, eyes scanning the countless people who passed by her. They wore outfits ranging from neatly pressed and crisp business suits to fashionable jeans and t-shirts. It was like this observation of hers had manifested into its own being and forced her to look downwards at her own outfit. A pair of sweatpants that only reached her calves because it was, in fact, too small, with an off colored sweater and shoes that had loose soles.
It made her relieved that everyone was too busy in their own worlds that consisted of luminous screens and pixel generated words. Heads were buried deep within phones or, if the person was down to earth, books, but that didn't change the fact that everyone looked the same. Backs hunched, necks strained, eyes down. Chinatsu wasn't sure whether to be jealous or consoled.
For the sake of her sanity, she chose to be the latter.
She kept moving forward.
The busy streets wasn't something she was unused to. She had gotten well accustomed to forcing herself through crowds and weaving past people who walked far too slowly for her comfort. In time, navigating through human mazes became second nature. She hardly ever said excuse me or pardon me anymore, because no one cared and with enough time she didn't, either.
She pushed herself past a small group of older women who were taking a group picture, blissfully unaware of how they were blocking off half of the sidewalk. She dodged a child who flailed his arms in a tantrum because his mother wouldn't let him get ice cream, and slipped past an elderly couple who paced leisurely, their canes against the ground tapping every few seconds with each step they took. Chinatsu prided herself in being an expert in the streets. She knew she was, because in her peripheral, she picked up on a bike perched against a railing. The smile on her face refused to be contained.
Chinatsu immediately burst into a dash across the road. She considered herself lucky that the light was on red, giving her more time to investigate the bike before the owner came out. That's right, I'm just investigating. It was this single thought she kept repeating to herself like a mantra, as if repeating it enough times would cause a fairy to appear in front of her and grant a wish. Maybe two, if she said please. And though Chinatsu knew better than to actually think this would happen, well—
A girl can dream.
Chinatsu glanced over her shoulder as soon as she reached the bike. She thought it to be foolish that the owner didn't lock it, but she realized it was in front of a bakery with wide windows that give anyone outside a perfect view inside the shop and vice versa. Which meant the owner was in there. Which also meant he was going to come out soon.
She thought herself rational enough to be able to weigh her options. Her rationale concluded there was no other option. And because life was about making decisions, Chinatsu ultimately decided to yank the bike by its handlebars, hop onto the seat, and ride away as quickly as she could.
"Hey!"
She ignored the angry shouts of the owner as she raced down the street, yelling at any and all pedestrians to get out of her way before she ran them over. She watched as a sea of colors and faces parted before her very eyes, separating into two lines on either side with her in the middle. There were a few times she came close to actually causing an accident— like when she didn't see that mother pushing a stroller until the very last moment and she had to swerve sharply to the right, causing her to nearly topple over— but in terms of things that could have happened, Chinatsu thought she was doing a relatively good job.
Well, as good of a job as a bike thief could do.
Calling herself a thief, though, made her feel a bit guilty. So yes, she did take someone's expensive bike without their permission and was taking it to the other side of the city. But Chinatsu was a rational person. Surely, the person could buy another one. Or, she could find him and return it to him. Regardless, she was taking it home, and she had no intention to actually keep it. The scientist Charles Darwin developed the theory of natural selection and Chinatsu considered this the perfect showcasing of that. It was, quite simply, survival of the fittest.
(It very much wasn't, but Chinatsu refused to admit or even acknowledge that.)
She had ridden a good amount of blocks and to a much less busy part of the city when she heard the police sirens. Chinatsu's throat tightened in sudden dryness as alarms of her own began wailing in the back of her head. So maybe law enforcers were on her tail now, bright lights flashing behind her as their speakers screeched for her to stop? So maybe the farther she traveled, the more she seemed like a criminal guilty of doing so much worse than just borrowing a bike without explicit permission? It's just a stupid bike, go buy a new one, I need it more than you do.
Chinatsu told herself this. And between the sirens getting louder, the constant reminders of the police that told her who she was and what would happen if she didn't stop, and all the noise that continued to ricochet in the spaces of her skull, she hardly noticed the boy crossing the street. If either of them had been more suspecting, what happened next could have entirely been avoided. But they weren't.
And it wasn't.
It happened within a split second, but Chinatsu suddenly found herself flung into the air. The wind that battered against her face had slowed down and then accelerated as she capsized over herself and she found that she was no longer in control of her own body. And gravity, she wondered, has it always been this strong?
She considered it odd when she felt nothing upon landing. The only thing that stood out to her was the loud, blood curdling crack she heard, or perhaps it was more like a snap. It was hard to tell among the muffled voices and screeching tires that pervaded her hearing above all else. Her vision was blurred— did her glasses fly off, too?— but she was able to discern a blob of color that entered her sights. She identified red and white, but that was the extent.
"Are you okay?"
At least, that's what she thought he said. He very well could have angrily hissed a spiel about how she was an idiot and should've watched where she was going and this was her fault and she deserve to be bad and feel bad. It made Chinatsu wonder if it was a matter of what she wanted to hear rather than what her senses told her she heard. She couldn't bother to tell the difference or care.
It was a fuzzy darkness that began to dim her eyesight, but before everything turned to black, the last thing she felt was something incredibly cold against her otherwise warm skin.
"Young lady, you are in serious trouble."
Where have I heard that before?
Gray orbs traveled unceremoniously toward the ceiling in consideration at the question, an unspoken response to the scolding she knew she would be subjected to for the next twenty or so minutes. The office she sat in suddenly became far more musty than when she originally came in. The air was heavy, almost suffocating. It made her lungs feel like there was an anvil resting against them and if she dare breathed too hard, they would implode.
"Dying sounds kind of nice," Chinatsu hummed absentmindedly. She was only aware she said it at all because of the man's expression. It twisted into some hideous mixture of a scowl and grimace, accenting the already prominent frown lines and wrinkles that decorated his face. Chinatsu's next thought was that she was going to put further effort into face care so she wouldn't end up like that when she was older.
"You stole someone's bike, disturbed the peace, ignored police instructions, and—!" The older man gestured to her, but most notably, her leg. "Injured yourself in the process! What if that was someone else instead of you, hm? What if it was a baby? Or an old woman? Or!" The man slammed his hand on the desk in front of him. The pens and pencils in a small container at the corner of the desk rattled and shook from the vibration before falling to the ground, spilling everywhere on the floor as a pathetic showcasing of proof to his anger.
"What if someone was killed?!" he concluded in deep, angry breaths. Chinatsu's expression didn't change. It hadn't since she was taken to this man, the police chief. Despite his best efforts to appear intimidating, he was old, stout, and pudgy. White hairs were combed over his head in a lamentable attempt to hide his bald spot. His fingers were as fat as he was, plump and round, appearing to be more like sausages than appendages on a human. He looked like he was going to nearly burst out of his suit— the entire time, Chinatsu had to use every ounce of strength she had to not laugh at the few buttons on his shirt that popped as he yelled, or the way he had to stop and take a few breaths between words.
Chinatsu exhaled a breath that teetered dangerously on the borders of disrespect and flippancy. She almost responded to his rebuking with a cheeky, But no one was, right? but in the end chose to hold her tongue after gazing at her cast. Wrapped in bright pink around her leg, Chinatsu made it clear to the doctors that her newly broken limb be placed in something that wouldn't make her feel depressed every time she looked at it. She hated pink, but she hated the plain white more. She decided to compromise.
Regardless, that only thing she regretted was crashing at all. Hospitals were expensive and if the bike wasn't totaled, she would've sold it to help pay for the bills. From what she had heard, the boy she crashed into wasn't injured at all. The reason she had gotten so injured was because he had, apparently, put up a barrier of ice or some other element. Chinatsu had been told this when she was still woozy, one half in reality and the other half somewhere far, far off. The only thing she truly remembered was thinking that person was the one who deserved to be getting berated for hurting her.
If he got hurt, then at least I could say I deserved this.
And because he couldn't take one for the team, she was here in a musky, stuffed office with a cast and crutches, being scolded by an old fat man she didn't know.
Chinatsu wished, rather morbidly, for death.
"By the way," the police chief began. Chinatsu's eyes traveled to his desk where an intricate gold plaque with his name engraved onto it sat. Police chief Suzuki. She noted that. "Where is your mother?"
It was a question she asked herself as if Suzuki didn't just utter it to her. She leaned her head back against the chair she sat on, the back of her neck falling limp until she was having a staring contest with the ceiling. There was silence between them; Suzuki wanted to know the answer as much as Chinatsu did.
And then it came.
The office door swung open with a rather prominent creak that made Chinatsu lift her head up, eyes glimmering in bright curiosity, but like a blanket fell over those agog irises, they dimmed and cast downward until all that remained in her stare was a deep disappointment.
"I apologize for the trouble she's caused, Suzuki-san. I'll take all responsibility."
Suzuki cleared his throat and readjusted his neck tie, not that it would do any good considering the disordered state of his shirt. He rose to his feet and waddled around the desk, labored breaths forcing themselves through his lips by the time he reached the other. The answer. It came in the form of white hair and a daunting figure dressed in casual clothing.
"Vlad King, it's very nice to meet you, sir," Suzuki said, giving a firm handshake.
"Please." There was a tug in the Pro Hero's lips. "Call me Sekijiro."
The silence between them was almost as maddening as when Chinatsu was in the office with the police chief. It lingered like it was its own presence, pesky and intruding, wholly disregarding what either of them felt or thought about it.
Sekijiro Kan was not happy. And in all fairness, no one would be in this sort of situation— Chinatsu gave him that much— but she wished that he would just look at her, once, so she wouldn't feel so awful when she glanced at him and amber didn't meet gray. There were several times she wanted to say something to him, maybe an apology or explanation, but every time she opened her mouth there was something that forced it shut. It's not like she could gather her words, either. Her mind was a mess and it was reflected in her fallen expression. Sekijiro kept his eyes on the road and his fingers wrapped tightly around the steering wheel. Chinatsu almost thought he was going to rip it off sooner or later.
"Uncle Jiro—"
"Chinatsu, stop."
His voice was cold and firm and stern. And unlike the police chief, he was actually intimidating. Maybe because she actually respected Sekijiro. Maybe because she actually cared about what he thought. Maybe because the gravity of the situation was finally dawning on her—
"You need to stop this."
Chinatsu withheld the urge to roll her eyes in spite of everything. She sighed softly, quietly, and leaned back in the seat. It was surprisingly soft for leather, warm against her fingertips. The fissures that naturally decorated the patterning dipped underneath her touch began to form paths. She traced one to her leg.
"I'm sorry," Chinatsu finally said. She didn't dare look up. She missed Sekijiro's fleeting glance.
"Natsu—" He paused when he spoke her nickname. "You're a good kid. But you mak really, really bad decisions."
"I needed to get home somehow."
"And you're worrying your mother sick."
Chinatsu huffed and pressed back against the seat rather aggressively. She folded her arms across her chest and her now angry eyes found their way to her cast. She wriggled her toes and for some reason, that only made her angrier.
"Don't use mom as a way to make me feel guilty," she muttered.
"I'm not," Sekijiro returned. "I'm just telling you the truth, because you need to hear it."
"I know the truth, you don't need to tell me."
"Quit the attitude, Chinatsu."
"I don't have an attitude! You came at me attacking me—"
"I'm not attacking you!"
"You literally just tried to guilt trip me with mom, and honestly, I really don't appreciate that. You're being super unfair to me considering I broke my leg and I was left alone in a hospital for hours with no one!"
"Chinatsu, this wouldn't have happened if you were more responsible with your things. You broke your glasses, you nearly got arrested— you should be grateful that man decided to drop the charges!"
A shouting match quickly ensued between the two. They spoke over each other, unable to hear the other's words because they were so deeply invested in their own. It was their first time making eye contact since they left the police station, and while Sekijiro made sure to pay attention to the road, every red light he reached was when he gave time to look at Chinatsu directly. Amber and gray met and then tore away. Somehow, the both of them were exhausted of arguing at the same time. The silence returned immediately after.
Chinatsu hated the silence.
"I'm hungry," she muttered as she casually propped her good leg onto the dashboard. Sekijiro couldn't gather the energy to tell her to take it off.
"Okay," he responded. His grip on the steering wheel lightened. "What do you want? It's late, but maybe we can pick up something to eat."
Chinatsu leaned her head against the window and looked out the glass. The sun had long since completed its tour of the sky, allowing the moon to take its place. Navy blue hung like a velvet drape behind the white crescent that was adorned by millions of tiny lights. Chinatsu identified Ursa Major to the east— the Big Dipper— the most identifiable constellation among those unknown. Seeing the Big Dipper reminded her of a soup spoon she would use to dip into a bowl of ramen and sip some of the broth. And most of the time, it would made her tongue sting because she didn't wait for it to cool, but that only added to the experience.
The corners of her lips tugged upwards.
"Can we get shōyu ramen, please?" she asked, finally turning to face Sekijiro again. The Blood King chuckled.
"Sure."
"Oh my god—"
Before she could even enter the space of the restaurant, Chinatsu was scooped into a pair of strong arms that held her tight, as if she absolutely could not be let go under any circumstances. Chinatsu exhaled a short wheeze and that was enough to get the grip to loosen.
"Are you okay?" Trembling hands touched her face, squeezed her shoulders, traced over her arms and waist. "Were you hurt—?"
Chinatsu grinned.
"Don't answer that. I know, I know you were hurt, I just—"
"Mizuki."
Sekijiro placed a hand on the fretting woman's shoulder and offered her a gracious smile. She sighed and nodded and then shook her head.
"I'm sorry," she spoke. "I-I'm sorry, it's been a long day."
"It's okay, mom. Don't worry about it," Chinatsu reassured. Mizuki bobbed her head again to her daughter's words. Mizuki was a petite woman with soft, delicate features, often hidden behind a layer of sweat that came with being a waitress, and another layer of worry that came with being a mother. Her sleek black hair had been twisted into a haphazard bun, mostly because she had no time to tie it into anything neater, with individual locks framing her face. Bright blue eyes were starting to develop bags as a sign of weariness and sleep deprivation.
The apron she wore since her shift started hadn't been slackened, not even after she closed up shop for the night. It was only because it was a quiet night and her boss liked her that Sekijiro and Chinatsu were allowed to visit after hours.
"I should've been there," Mizuki continued, now starting to pace around the restaurant. She moved past tables, pushed in chairs and readjusted table clothes even though she certainly didn't need to. As she passed by Chinatsu and Sekijiro, the latter took it upon himself to pull at the knot that did her apron and allow it to fall to the crook of her elbow.
"Let's have some ramen, Mizuki," Sekijiro said. It was less of a suggestion and more of a fiat.
"Ramen," Chinatsu's mother repeated. "Right. Ramen."
Shōyu was Chinatsu's favorite. She loved the salty, savory taste of the broth that melded perfectly against the tender pork that melted in her mouth as soon as it hit her tongue. She couldn't get enough of the soft noodles or bamboo shoots that she always ate first. And while eating at the ramen shop her mom worked at wasn't exactly flattering, Chinatsu didn't care. Nothing could deny the light feeling welling in her stomach and chest.
"So I'm thinking, Mizuki, all this madness aside, since Natsu will be entering high school—" Sekijiro took a moment to eat a mouthful of noodles. "She should come to Yūei."
Both choked on the broth they drank.
"What?" they asked in unison. Sekijiro chuckled. Like mother, like daughter.
"Yūei is an excellent school, you both know this. Natsu can train and use her Quirk to become a hero. I can put a good word in and maybe the principal can make an exception since your leg is broken."
"Or, maybe we can just save him the trouble and I go to a regular high school," Chinatsu huffed. "That place is full of pretentious pricks and know-it-alls."
Sekijiro snorted. "I happened to graduate from that place filled with pretentious pricks and know-it-alls."
"Yeah, and look at you now," Chinatsu retorted, earning a sharp glare from both Sekijiro and her mother. "I just don't think I'm very 'hero material'."
"That doesn't mean you can't do good things," Mizuki said. Her brows lifted up and her eyes brightened ever so slightly as she gave the look any mother would give her doubting daughter.
Believe in yourself the same way I believe in you.
"I dunno," Chinatsu groaned, inclining forward, putting her weight against the table. "It just seems like so much work."
"Because it is, but considering you're fifteen now, I think it's about time you start to learn responsibility," Sekijiro said, quirking a brow.
"I'm fully responsible."
"Which is why your leg is in a cast and you have a criminal record."
A sharp gasp left the young girl's lungs. Her eyes widened incredulously, her head twisting back and forth between the two adults sitting with her.
"Really?"
Mizuki cast a concerned glance.
"No," Sekijiro sighed. "But, you could've. It put things into perspective, doesn't it? At least this way, I can look after Chinatsu, make sure she doesn't get into anymore trouble."
Mizuki's lips curled upwards. The Pro Hero smirked satisfactorily at Chinatsu's dismayed groan that only solidified what they all knew was an unavoidable fate. Sekijiro went to ruffle Chinatsu's hair, but she simply smacked it away.
The Blood King had won yet again.
"I still think this was a mistake."
A dusty mirror with a crack in the top right corner was all Chinatsu had to view her reflection, but that was never something that bothered her. Not until now, at least. She frowned while Mizuki tugged on the red tie around her neck and flattened out any wrinkles on her gray blazer. Chinatsu couldn't help but think back to the fated day she injured herself, how she inwardly reprimanded those people dressed in uniforms not too dissimilar from her own. And now she was one of them.
The world has no right being this cruel, she thought begrudgingly.
"You're scared," Mizuki whispered. Chinatsu whirled around as quickly as she could and huffed out a deep sigh, shaking her head in firm defiance.
"I'm not scared. I just don't wanna go to this dumb school."
"Yūei is not dumb," Mizuki argued, consciously using her daughter's elementary word choice. "Sekijiro did this for your sake. He even invested in a new pair of glasses just for you."
"And he didn't have to—"
"But he did. Because he's a kind person."
Gray circles rolled back into her eyes until the white was showing for a few moments. Chinatsu sighed and eyed herself in the mirror again. Her hair had been straightened and given a slight trim so that it reached to her jaw with her bangs parted to the left. She was made sure to button up her shirt and blazer, neatly, to look as presentable as possible to what she had no choice but to consider her future classmates.
"Maybe you'll find the answer to your questions while you're there," Mizuki whispered. Chinatsu shrugged half heartedly and snatched her crutches from their place beside the mirror. Balancing them underneath her arms, she limped out of her room and to the front door with her mother trailing behind her.
"If you're upset at me for going through with this, Chinatsu, I'm sorry, but—" Mizuki took a deep deep breath and clasped her hands. She ran her thumb over the knuckles on her opposite hand, lips lifting into a slightly dejected smile. One Chinatsu noticed. "I just want you to have a better future than me, you know. I want you to be the best version of yourself. And I really, really think going to Yūei will help you do that."
Chinatsu's shoulders slumped at the thought that immediately entered her head.
"But mom—" She inhaled. "What if… what if none of that mattered? What if this Chinatsu is as good as she's ever gonna get?"
Mizuki smiled regardless.
"Have an open mind, love," she whispered before placing a kiss on her daughter's forehead. "Go. He's waiting outside."
"... Okay."
It wasn't the response she was expecting, but it was a response nonetheless. Chinatsu hobbled out of the apartment building she called home— all the more grateful that she lived on the ground floor— and exiting through the automatic doors greeted her with the car she knew belonged to Sekijiro. Chinatsu carelessly flung her crutches into the back seat and hopped to the front, struggling a bit to fit her leg inside before closing the door.
"Morning," Sekijiro addressed with a wide grin. "Ready for your first day of school?"
"Don't patronize me," Chinatsu muttered.
"Not. I'm just glad you're actually going here."
"Why? So you can harass me even more now?"
The Pro Hero looked at the brooding girl before sighing and driving off. Despite having known him for as long as she could remember, Chinatsu wasn't very used to seeing Sekijiro in his hero costume. It made him seem far more menacing, not in a villain way, but in a I very much have authority over you way. It made her wonder if she was more upset over the fact that she actually would be spending more time with him, or the fact she had to go to a school she had no interest in attending. Chinatsu didn't hate her honorary uncle, not as Sekijiro Kan and not as Vlad King, either.
Maybe it really was just the latter.
Staring out the window just like on that night, Chinatsu thought it funny that it was now morning time. She couldn't remember what moon it was that night, but it couldn't have been as bright as the sun. A wispy cloud briefly eclipsed the sun and only a small portion of the ever expanding blue sky before passing along and allowing the sun's rays to yet again touch the earth.
"Hey, uncle Jiro," Chinatsu called, readjusting herself in the seat. "Can I ask a question?"
Sekijiro nodded. "Shoot."
"If the world ended tomorrow, what would you do?"
"Is that a serious question?"
"Yeah."
"Hm…" He inhaled sharply through his teeth. "Sleep, I suppose. I would want to be dreaming if I knew the world was ending."
"What if you had a nightmare?"
Sekijiro smirked. "I don't have nightmares, kid. Why the loaded question, by the way?"
"I dunno," Chinatsu softly admitted. "I guess I kind of feel like the world is ending right now."
"No."
As much as she didn't want to admit it, the smile that crept onto Sekijiro's face was in all forms comforting.
"Not while the sun's still shining."
School shouldn't be on the top of anyone's list if they were to make one about ways they were going to die. No, as a matter of fact, it should be at the very bottom, somewhere along with being mauled by a polar bear and getting devoured by a horde of zombies. Chinatsu considered herself confident enough so that she never easily gave in to the clutches of anxiety, but high school somehow sapped all of that out of her.
The towers that loomed over the city were perhaps one of the most unnerving things Chinatsu had ever witnessed. She contemplated how giant rectangles made of steel and glass could be so terrifying, but a part of her knew it wasn't the structure so much as it was the prestige attached to said structure. Up until now, Yūei High School was nothing but a name that she associated with conceited elites who had far too much time on their hands.
And because she absolutely refused to be associated with that, Chinatsu had to swallow her pride and denounce everything she's ever said about this institution. I want to die.
She still very much wanted to attend the normal high school just a few blocks away from her apartment building, one she wouldn't have to wake up half an hour earlier for, or put too much effort to try in. She had planned to go through her school career getting by with what she and everyone else considered average, but Yūei's motto, Plus Ultra (that was everywhere in advertisements in televisions and people's conversations) was nothing short of proof that she truly had to work to succeed.
I want you to be the best version of yourself, her mother's words echoed in her ears.
Sekijiro was nice enough to lead Chinatsu to her classroom, which, ironically or not, was just down the hall from his. She spent some time marveling at the massive door that quite frankly had no business being so large before Sekijiro snapped her out of her trance by placing a hand on her shoulder.
"I gotta go," he said. "Homeroom starts soon. Have a good first day, alright? And try not to pick any fights?"
Chinatsu stuck out her tongue. "No promises!" she called after the Pro Hero as he walked away. Once he disappeared around a corner, Chinatsu exhaled deeply and placed her hand in the door grip. To her surprise, it opened with just a mild tug. She was instantly met with a myriad of new faces and colors and people, students of all shapes and sizes gathered together in this one formal classroom.
It was as if they all just knew, however. Dozens of eyes landed on her and Chinatsu froze in place, certainly surprised by the sudden attention. Mouth raising into a slightly nervous smile, an apprehensive chuckle left her throat as she hopped further into the room, having to take a moment to readjust her slipping glasses.
"Uh, hi," she said, offering a short wave. "Nice to meet you guys. Ignore the broken leg, alright?"
Bobbing her head, Chinatsu took another glance at the entire class before her eyes landed on a head of red and white. Parted evenly down the middle, she narrowed her eyes with the same thought cycling through her head above all else—
Why does that kid look so familiar?
And then, slowly, it hit her like a pile of bricks in realization. Whoever he was, he was the same boy from that day. Chinatsu's jaw dropped open.
"Oh, shit."
a/n
attempt number ? at a story i actually like! except this time i do like this story so hopefully chinatsu will stay for a while? uhh honestly this is a product of too much lady bird and patrick ness books but honestly fuck it i'm kinda excited for this one so let's see how long i can stay motivated to write for it
thank you for reading and i'll see you next time uvu