Author's Note: Enjoy!

Chapter Two:

The Shift in Course

"Turn your face towards the sun,

Let the shadows fall behind you,

Don't look back, just carry on,

And the shadows will never find you," – Towards the Sun; Rihanna

I was four-years-old when I developed my quirk.

It was during our family's monthly picnic, and I was sitting in my mom's lap when she willed the budding cherry blossom tree we were under to bloom. At first, we all just admired the beauty of the fully bloomed tree, but after a while, we noticed something about it. Every petal from the tree had detached itself from the branches and were floating idly within the tree. Initially my dad had thought it was my mom's doing, but once I had sneezed and the petals went into a frenzy around us, he knew for sure it was me.

That following morning, they took me to the doctor's and discovered my quirk was manipulating flower petals.

For the most part, we had thought it was something fairly simple – an extension of my mom's quirk except with not as much raw power but a lot more mental concentration. Most damage I could probably do with it was drown an opponent in a frenzy of petals, and since petals were such delicate things, using them as a defense method was a huge no-no. If anything, the quirk was good enough for distraction. We never once figured that there was a possibility of my dad's quirk playing into my ability.

His quirk dealt with blades – my quirk dealt with flower petals.

There was just no correlation.

Until that today.

I can't say for sure what happened, or what caused the sudden change of my ability. Figuratively speaking, the flower petals that summoned at my call should not have done much to help me and the boy. If anything, they would have been crushed with us.

But something happened.

The petals were not their usual delicate, soft texture – or color, to be honest. They were glowing pink, and came out of every inch of the street in powerful streams. They immediately went towards the logs behind us, and, when I heard the sound of shredding wood, my eyes widen as I turned around to see the merciless razor ability they were exhibiting. In one quick swoop, the cherry blossoms covered the entire street, completely destroying all the logs that were rolling. Soon everything in sight was covered in cherry blossoms – an eerie pink settling over the scene.

I was speechless as to what happened. Never in my wildest dreams I could imagine so much damage being done with just flower petals. It looked as if a thousand blades had came through and sliced up everything. And all this came about because I desperately didn't want the boy and I to get hurt. That was the last thing I was shouting in my mind while summoning the petals.

We can't die here!

No!

I won't let us die here!

That was all I was thinking.

Nothing less – nothing more.

I've been lost in a daze ever since.

Ever since that day, I've even more reclusive – out right refusing to use my quirk for even the most recreational of things. No one at school barely noticed the change in behavior, but at home it was a different story. As much as I tried to ignore my mom's wondering gaze during dinner, I couldn't and it seemed like Aoi was trying to annoy me more than usual just to get a reaction out of me. Eventually I just started to spend all my time in my room, blocking out everything from the outside world and taking all of the flowers out of my room.

I couldn't stand to be around them anymore.

I was upset and lost. The thing that I did – the sheer power I exhibited that day, I should not have been able to do that! I was a loser – a weakling. I shouldn't have such power; I didn't deserve to.

Why?

Why could I have done that? Why was what I witnessed similar to that of dad's – a hero. Why did I have the quirk of a hero? I wasn't a hero! I was weak, cowardly, and pathetic. Hero's weren't supposed to be any of that.

So why?

Why was this a thing now?

I've accepted a long time ago that I would never be a hero, so why was it all changing now?

Why…why did I have this small burning feeling of hope now?

These were questions I asked myself continuously every night – an answer never coming. I always fell asleep sad and disappointed, waking up to nothing to look forward to. I didn't want to go throughout my entire third year like this so thankfully one night my mom finally put her foot down.

Or should I say plant root down?

I was in my room, lying face down on my bed when my room door suddenly became engulfed in plant roots – eventually being pried open by the greenery. My mom stood in the middle of the door way looking extremely pissed, arms crossed and vibrant green eyes glaring at me.

"Sakura!" She growled, storming in and slamming the door shut with her plants. "Enough of this! What has gotten into you?"

"Go away, mom," I mumbled, turning to my side so I couldn't face her. I knew this probably irked her, but instead of growling even further, she released a heavy sigh.

"Sakura," She said, approaching me with a calmer tone. "Please talk to me. There is clearly something bothering you, but I can't help unless you say something. You used to always talk to me, what happened?"

"I just want to be alone," I said more forcefully, but mom didn't let up. She instead got in bed with me and held me close to her, cradling me like she used to when I was a little girl. I didn't even realize I started crying when she did this until I heard her shushing tenderly. We still like that for a good bit of the night until I was ready to talk to her.

"So that's what has been eating up," My mom said with a small chuckle. She then poked me on my forehead. "Oh, Sakura…so overly dramatic, I swear. So, what if your quirk wasn't what we originally thought it was – you're a beautiful mixture of both me and your dad—."

"You don't get it, mom," I huffed interrupting her, and turning away. "You never understand…I don't even know why I told you, it was a waste a breath."

"Hey, hey," She said, bringing my face back to look at her again. "No, you are not going to shut me out again. Listen…I'm sorry, flower, it was very rude and unmotherly of me to just brush off your feelings like that. I'm just having a hard time understanding why this is a bad thing. If anything, I see it as a good thing."

"How?" I huffed.

"Well…if anything, it makes this more of a reality," She commented softly.

I've long stopped looking at my mom throughout our conversation, but when she said this, I looked up at her and became frozen at what she had held in her hands. It was a crumpled-up piece of paper with a small child's drawing of a girl wearing all pink with flower petals around her. At the corner of it was my name written in terrible kanji and the number five next to it.

It was an old drawing a drew of myself when I was five.

When I wanted to be a hero.

"Why…why do you have that?" I asked, confused. "I threw that away…when I was seven. Mom, have you kept that with you all this time? Creepy much!"

"How's it creepy?" She argued with a pout. "You are my child so it's completely normal to hold on to things such as this. Plus, there's a reason why I kept it for so long – I kept for you."

"Why would I want something that I threw away, mom?"

"Not want – need," She clarified.

I only stared at her impassively.

She sighed. "This used to be your dream, Sakura. I kept it so I could remind you of that – and since it's your third year of Junior High, I thought it was about time that I did. And with what you told me about what happened to you the other day, you should really reconsider it."

My mom shown hope in her eyes as she said this. I couldn't believe she held on to such an old thing just for me. I knew she had always believed in me, but I was always amazed to what extent. I was not as hopeful or confident as she was – if anything I was a proud member of the pessimistic club. And yet, besides that, she always kept pushing me.

Did she ever get tired of beating a dead horse?

I cannot let her go on any further believing I can be a hero. I'll have to end it now.

"Mom—."

"I know what you're going to say, Sakura, and I'm going to stop you right now," She said sternly, but a smile was still on her face. "You're going to say a person like you isn't meant to be a hero; you're too scared, too weak, and not very confident at all. I've heard you say these things about yourself ever since you were a little girl, Sakura. You've let what people have said and done to you define you instead of defining yourself. You say all these things about yourself, Sakura, but they're only true if you let them be. Heh, I admit, you are a very fearful child, but there is nothing wrong with being afraid. We all get scared, but we should never let that fear get in the way of us living."

At that point, mom had lifted herself off my bed, leaving nothing but the drawing behind. She was on her way out the door before she turned around again.

"You were afraid that day when you saved that boy, Sakura, but you didn't let that stop you. Mold over that. Goodnight, sweetheart."

And like that mom was gone – leaving me to my thoughts and this terrible drawing.

I hated It when she did that.

Sighing, I glanced over to the crumbled paper and stared at it. The coloring was very much near gone, but I could still make out the drawing. The artwork was terrible, but this drawing meant so much to me back when I was younger. I remember dad helping me with it – my lips tugged at the corners at that thought.

Dad did help me with this.

He was going to be my number one fan; always cheering me on.

"I wonder what this loser what's to be?"

"Gosh, I hope not a hero."

"It's almost hard to believe she's the kid of the late Samurai."

"I find that so hard to believe; she has to be adopt it or something."

"Clearly I mean she looks nothing like him."

He believed in me the most.

"We're waiting."

"This is such a waste of time – I don't know why sensei called on her anyway."

"Typical. This is why we don't let losers speak."

His cowardly, idiotic, insecure daughter – he believed wholeheartedly that I would be a hero.

"How pathetic are you?!"

"You really don't know what you want for the future!?"

"How sad!"

"Poor late Samurai – why did his legacy had to end with a waste of space like you!"

He believed.

"Sakura, you are going to be a benevolent hero. You just got to believe in yourself, my flower."

Daddy…

I really am an idiot.

"WHAT!?"

Sensei had got the attention of everyone in the classroom from her loud outburst, and slowly fought myself sinking from all of the attention.

Why did she have to be so damn loud?

"Did I hear you correctly, Hayashi-san?" She exclaimed flustered, adjusting her glasses. "You want enlist as one of the students from our school to take U.A.'s Entrance Exam!?"

So DAMN loud!

"Yes, ma'am, I do."

"Well this is all of a sudden, but I'll do as you wish," She said.

"Thank you," I bowed.

And so began my journey of becoming a hero.

When I had told my mom of my decision that morning, she nearly swallowed the house with her plants from excitement. It took Aoi and I hours to clear it up, but it was worth it to see her so happy; however, we did both get a little creeped out when she started to talk to dad's portrait hanging on the wall. To my surprise, mom had already came up with a training regime for me as soon as I told her of my decision. She apparently had it already planned out ever since last night when I told her about my incident. She had based it a lot from dad's old regime from when he used to train with her since my quirk seemed similar to his.

Of course, when she told me that she would be my training partner, I did get a lot nervous. Mom was once a pro hero herself, but she was very…brutal with her heroic work. So brutal that the government forced her to retire. Mom's quirk gave her a lot of raw power, so whenever she used it caused a lot of damage for the government to pay for. It wasn't like she couldn't control it; mom had lots of control, she just liked to use her quirk freely without limits – which was why our house was forever covered in plants.

I can only imagine what it will be like when I start training with her.

Probably terribly and life threatening.

Hopefully my mom isn't open to hurting her daughter.

Hopefully.

"Hey, loser," A classmate said, knocking my notes down from my desk. "Heard you trying to get into U.A. I hope you don't think that possible. How can someone as weak and pathetic like could ever get into a school like that or even consider being a hero. You'll wet yourself after two minutes of being there. Might as well give up now."

Taking a deep breath, I ignored the comment and picked up my things. Ever since sensei's rather loud outburst, I've been getting comments like that on a regular basis again. It seemed like I was back on everybody's radar again, and they weren't having no mercy – the other day someone actually filled my shoes with thumbnails.

Luckily, I saw them before I put my foot in them.

As much as it hurt again to go through such treatment, I had expected when I had made up my mind to go on the hero track. A lot of people were against me doing it, but they didn't matter – they never did. It took me a while to understand, but I gave them way more power over me than I should have and it hurt me in the long run. I also gave my own fear of things too much power over me. For years, I limited myself because of the things people thought as well as what I thought about myself – never giving myself a chance to grow and be more than I could have ever imagined.

That changes now.

From now on, I will challenge myself, striving to overcome everything that has ever held me back. I can no longer let things hold me back. I will be more than I ever thought possible.

I will make you proud, dad – just continue to cheer me on from heaven.

After months of studying and training, the day of the entrance exam finally came and I found myself seated in an auditorium with thousands upon thousands of other students. It was one of probably the most nerve wrecking things I have probably done, but to think that I had made it that far was what pushed me through it.

I'm not going to lie though.

During the practical exam, I was scared out of my mind and running majority of it from the robots. Not a very good start to my hero pathway, but fortunately for me, my scared emotions caused the roses my mom had packed for me to go berserk and destroy a great bit of my robots in the arena. I had ended up with a great bit of points – even though I wasn't intentionally trying to. I was still taking baby steps so it was going to take a minute before I was fully confident and brave enough to act like a hero, but neither less, I made it through everything.

"And…there! Perfect!"

"Can I see myself now?"

"Of course!" Mom said, moving out of my view.

Once she was moved to the side, I aimed my sight at my vanity mirror. I was indeed my dad's child; my skin was fair just like his and I had inherited his raven locks; however, mines came down to my knees. I had dark eyes just like he did, except mine were greener in color like mom's. There were a few things different about my appearance now though – the biggest being the official U.A. student uniform I was sporting, but second to that was the clear viewing of my face.

I could see my face.

What the fuck!?

"Mom, did you cut my bangs!?" I screamed.

"I know right!" She cheered. "You can finally see that pretty face your dad and I gave you!"

"MOM!"

Side swept mainly to my left side, I felt like a completely different person with my bangs trimmed and shaped. For years, I have kept those things untouched and this woman had the nerve to change them. She was lucky I came from her vagina.

"My beautiful bangs," I cried.

"And now, the last piece to this glorious morning!" Mom exclaimed cheerfully, pulling out a piece of paper.

"I want nothing else from you, killer of bangs!"

"This isn't from me," Mom said softly, placing a letter in my lap. "This is from your dad."

I went silent from this information, and eyed the letter that had my name written on it curiously. It was definitely my dad's hand writing.

"In his family, its tradition to give first year high school students letters on their first day. He wrote this for you two weeks before his death…I'll give you some space to read it."

When mom left the room, it took me a minute to finally get the nerve to pick the letter up from my lap. I didn't immediately read it, but just simply held it in my hands. This was the last thing I ever received from my dad – the last thing I had of him. No doubt mom had carefully preserved it somewhere – it looked as if it was just written yesterday. Taking a deep breath, I turned it to its other side and opened it, pulling out the letter and reading.

My dearest daughter,

Today is your first day of high school – Congratulations! You've reached a very important and interesting time in your life. It is a tradition in our family to pass on a piece of knowledge when one comes to this point in their life. I pass it on to you as my father passed it on to me. My Sakura, courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgement that something else is more important than fear – the brave may not live forever, but the cautious do not live at all. From now on, you'll be traveling the road between who you think you are and who you can be – the key is to allow yourself to make the journey. Happy first day of high school, my flower.

I'll see you after school.

All my love,

Your Favorite Hero – dad.

Holding the letter close to my chest, I blinked back tears as I leaned back in my chair. Words could not even describe all of the emotions I was feeling at the moment, but there was one that stood out the most.

Faith.

Dad had faith in me – and had faith in myself.

That I would be one of the greatest heroes to ever live.