Disclaimer:
I do not own Hero Academia, nor do I own any pop culture references made. Shion and the Koyama family are my creations, however, so please don't copy.
Author's Note:
I haven't watched the anime of Hero Academia, so most of my material comes from the fan-translations. Therefore, the language of the characters from what I've gathered is far coarser (and age-appropriate, I think, for 15 year olds) than what is depicted in the anime. Just a general warning about swearing for this chapter and the rest of the fic. I've never been to Japan (never mind Fukuoka) and any Japanese terms listed I've lifted from the internet and added purely for setting purposes, so if they're incorrect, please don't hesitate to correct me.
I'll try to keep these Author Notes down to a minimum in future, but I just wanted to add that I've included a quick list of basic information on the main Koyama family (only one of them is Canon although I created the civilian name and age, I wonder if anyone's spotted who) at the bottom for anyone who's interested, I've included name meanings in the brackets. I'll likely be doing this for any OCs introduced.
Thank you for reading and reviews! Thank you for the follows and favourites! They honestly put a little smile on my face for the rest of the day.
Shion Koyama vs. Giant Killer Robots
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"Oh, yeah, oodles."
- Kyoka Jirou
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Shion was still waiting for the perfect time to bring it up when the car rolled to a stop outside U.A. for her Entrance Exam.
Hiroki whistled low and impressed, huge forearms crossed lazily on the wheel, "shit, look at that. Window-cleaners must be suicidal, huh?"
"Do you think they're compensating? Like a whole 'come gaze upon my shiny dong-towers' thing?" Shion leaned forward to peer out the front window.
"Gotta be," he twisted in the seat to flash her a toothy grin. "Isn't the Principle like a bear-rat or something?"
Shion chuckled, "jeez, his parents must have been open-minded."
Kiku stirred at the mention of creatures of the four-legged persuasion, the first sign of interest she'd shown since they'd arrived in Musutafu. The Koyama family (minus her older brother, Hiroto, and a motley of tedious grandparents) had changed trains three times to reach Musutafu from Fukuoka - a journey that Shion prayed would be considerably shorter without her parents' frequent pit stops, since she was apparently going to be making the same journey twice every day, five days a week. Taking advantage of the change in scenery, Hanako had rented a car for sightseeing purposes, which Kiku could not look more apathetic about (she'd barely looked up from her portable Nintendo console).
"Bear-dog actually, and adorable so shut up," Hanako sniffed.
Shion and her father exchanged a smirk in the mirror, but otherwise kept their mouths shut.
Hanako clapped, beaming again, "alrighty, let's go!"
Shion piled out of the rental car, only partially surprised when her parents followed. Although as Villains they were supposed to be keeping a low profile, Hanako and Hiroki looked like TV stars, both decked in designer sunglasses with her father's slicked back, blonde hair and white shirt open too many buttons than was advisable for a man his age. Meanwhile, Hanako had a scarf wrapped around her distinctive pink hair, her many necklaces and bracelets glinting in the morning sun. Everyone turned and her parents basked in the attention, peacocking in their designer clothes and making far more of spectacle than need be. A few of her former classmates had been envious of the audience her parents always seemed to gather, but Shion was both accustomed to (and secretly a little embarrassed by) their public behaviour. Sometimes she'd just wanted to go swimming without her dad turning it into a speedo advertisement, and she'd lost count of the amount of fist-fights Hiroto used to get into over classmates' comments on their mother's…physical appeal.
"Have you got everything?"
As far as Shion knew, she didn't need much anyway. She waggled her phone regardless, just to satisfy her mother.
Hanako smiled in a flash of perfectly white teeth, "good girl. Remember to drop us a text when you've finished and we'll pick you up, okay?"
Before Shion could even reply, her mother crushed her into a hug, pecking her on the cheeks and only relinquishing her hold so her father could almost squeeze the life out of her.
"Do your best!" they both crowed, grinning and flashing her a thumbs up. Even Kiku tore her gaze away from her game screen long enough to give her a brisk nod.
Five seconds after they'd sped away, the sinking feeling was returning. With a sigh, she looked up at the imposing building towering ahead of her. Slick, almost unnervingly clean and modern, the U.A. Academy was a testament – to what, Shion wasn't exactly decided on. Still, as she watched reflected clouds chase each other across its glass towers, she could admit she was impressed. U.A. looked like it belonged to a different world, one where everything was motion activated and smelt like citrus air freshener. How did they keep it so clean with so many teenagers about?
For a brief moment, Shion debated making a run for it. In the end, it was probably lack of courage than any sense of duty that kept her legs moving forward. Through the gates, the concrete path morphed into neat, little rows of grey brick. The students passed under thin, square archways (some kind of abstract modern art, she supposed since they didn't seem to have any purpose otherwise), each one separated by an empty-armed tree or a bust of some famous Hero. Shion drew her shoulders closer to her ears, feeling oddly guilty under their blank stare. She didn't feel like she was entering a High School. It was missing something, that sense of slamming lockers and gaggle of teenagers trading barbs and the squeak of shoes on the linoleum flooring as someone hurried to class, that Shion unconsciously associated with school. U.A. was more like a museum. Here, Shion imagined everyone spoke quietly and put their trash in the correct receptacle. There probably wasn't even any graffiti in the boy's bathroom.
She jammed her headphones in, hoping the familiar flurry of screaming guitar and heavy drums would overpower her nerves. She hadn't even got inside U.A. and she already felt widely out of place. Despite her mother's best efforts to prep her like Shion was embarking on a bank heist, she had only a vague idea of where she was going so mainly relied on ambling along uniform white, high-ceilinged hallways with the current of other (hopefully more prepared) students. She didn't recognise anyone from previous schools, at least.
Finally, everyone began emptying out into an auditorium. It, much like everything else in the place, was vast. More suited to an audience three times larger than its current number (which wasn't small by any means). Shion spied a seat at the back and threw herself into the plush padding with a satisfied smile. There was an aborted noise of surprise next to her, and only then did Shion consider how sudden her appearance had probably been for her new neighbour.
Looking a little shamefaced, she removed an earphone and flashed the girl an apologetic smile, "heh, sorry, didn't see you there."
The girl only looked back at her flatly, "kinda hard to miss me but whatever."
She had a point. Not that the girl was freakishly large or anything, but Shion should have probably looked before she leapt, so to speak.
"Yeah, yeah, just a little nervous, y'know. You?"
"Me, what?" the girl raised one thin brow, still utterly unimpressed.
Shion tried not to be too discouraged by the reception. At this point in her life, Shion had switched schools more times than she could count. It was second-hand to her - grin, crack a few jokes, be bigger than she felt.
But coaxing the (needlessly hostile) girl into conversation was proving hard work. Still, it was either speak to her or sit there in silence, and while neither option was looking particularly attractive at the moment, she preferred the former over the latter. Besides, with her lop-sided bob and an intriguing cluster of band patches on her backpack, the girl was the first person Shion had seen that clearly had anything in common with her.
"Feel like you might spray the next three rows with projectile vomit," Shion prompted.
The girl only stared at her with flat confusion for a long moment, before uttering a bewildered, "…no?"
"Oh, just me then! Don't worry, I'll give you a heads up if I feel the chunky tide approaching," Shion flashed her a grin and a thumbs up, something that only confused the girl more.
"Thanks…I guess," the girl muttered.
Shion nodded before thrusting out a hand, "shit, I forgot, my name's Koyama Shion."
The girl took her hand a bit apprehensively, "Jirou Kyoka."
Shion opened her mouth to ask about the patches, and therefore her music tastes, when she was interrupted by a voice turned up to eleven.
"Welcome one and all to my live show! Everybody say 'hey'!"
Shion blinked. The little, bandy-legged guy on stage looked slightly past his sell-by date, but (as she would learn in the ensuing twenty minutes) was more than eager to make up for it through sheer volume. A Voice Augmentation Quirk. Shion briefly wondered if Present Mic was of any relation to her mother's side of the family. Not that she would know since Hanako's parents had, for all intents and purposes, disowned their daughter (and their grandchildren by proxy) years ago.
The first task as Present Mic scream-explained was basic:
1-Beat up the robots,
2-Each robot is worth different points, bar the fourth type which was a decoy,
3-Those with the highest totals would score the highest.
Simple enough. Shion wasn't sure whether she should be grateful that the particular challenge was well tailored to her Quirk or not. On one hand, she wouldn't have to worry about making too much of a fool out of herself, but on the other it might have been better in the long run if she had a more legitimate excuse for failure. Then again, 'failure' implied she was in anyway invested in winning, so...
On the way to the designated area, Shion was that far in her own thoughts that she shoulder-checked a bulky guy with lips even puffier than her own. He grunted, stumbling a few paces and swirling on Shion with an accusatory look.
"Shit, sorry," Shion held up her hands.
He muttered something as he turned back around. Shion frowned. Weren't jumped-up Hero wannabes meant to be much friendlier? Speaking of…
"Yo, Jirou-chan!" Shion jogged over to where Kyoka was dragging her feet.
Kyoka's shoulders were up near her ears in an effort to hunch under the scrutiny of her peers, and her arms hadn't yet unfolded from their defensive position. The simultaneously embarrassed and irritated look she shot Shion was so reminiscent of Kiku that she couldn't help grinning.
"Missed me, huh?" Shion asked as they drew level.
"Oh, yeah, oodles," Kyoka drawled.
Shion laughed outright at that, "am I detecting just the barest hint of sarcasm?"
"Just a hint?" Kyoka muttered, but this time there was a definite hint of a smile.
"You mean you haven't been drawn in by my magnetic personality?" Shion waggled her brows – an expression that was just shy of being demented.
Kyoka just drew to a stop and stared at her, hands on hips and one eyebrow arched. Shion couldn't tell if the shorter girl genuinely disliked her or if prickly was her default mood.
"Oh, ouch, rejected," Shion clutched at her heart. "Looks like I'm in for a night of sobbing uncontrollably into my pillow, huh."
In her first display of benevolence thus far, Kyoka's previous flat expression crumpled with concern. Shion was more than a little relieved to see that the purple-haired girl didn't completely hate her. Still, actually apologising seemed beyond Kyoka's capabilities, so Shion settled for peeking at the mock city their test was to take place in.
Bar the fact that it was an entire city erected purely for the purpose of being collateral damage, the architecture itself was rather cut-and-paste. It was a little unnerving seeing all the components of somewhere like Fukuoka City without the human individualities. Or the humans, for that matter. Everyday things that hadn't really registered to Shion before, solely because they were every day, were glaringly absent - cars running or parked or huffing somewhere in-between the two states, people ambling along, talking, lounging, the cloud of ambivalent background noise that denoted human life, the very breath of a city.
Further reconnaissance was limited since the bulky guy from before blocked out most of Shion's view. He'd been frantically patting himself down and scanning the ground for the past five minutes, muttering with increasing frustration about sweets. Aggravated as he clearly was, Shion just hoped that he wouldn't spot her and choose to start anything.
Shion supposed she too should probably take advantage of the delayed start, by activating her Quirk in preparation. The first few layers of augmented muscle slid over Shion's arms, legs and torso with a sensation like burrowing into a quilted duvet. Not too much, don't want to single myself out by suddenly going full Hulk.
She bounced once on the balls of her feet, feeling the generated additional muscle mass loosen and tighten. Already she could feel the significant boost, the coiled spring of power thrumming under her skin like a cocked gun. And suddenly, she wasn't so conflicted anymore. Those first few minutes of activating her Quirk were always heady, no matter how often she did it. That torrent of newly acquired raw strength, that sudden widening of her body's natural potential, she felt like she could punch the moon out of orbit if she wanted to.
"Aaaand start!" Present Mic's voice screeched, "What's the matter? There's no such thing as a countdown in real battle! Run! Ruuuun!"
Shion flashed Kyoka a quick grin before taking off. And 'taking off' was the correct term. With all those augmented leg muscles, Shion shot forward like a bullet, overtaking one then three then eight others. She barely resisted the urge to whoop with laughter as she swerved around a corner, scraping the pavement slightly as she went. She could feel her heart pumping, the give and tug as her feet pounded under her, nothing else mattered.
The first robot she came across burst from the nearby coffee shop, shedding plaster like leaves and honing in on Shion with a static mechanical whir. Without much thought, Shion grinned, ducked her head and charged. The robot was too clunky for any quick manoeuvres; barely getting one huge, shuddering leg under it before Shion was upon it. Pressing her cheek against the cold kiss of metal, she wrapped her arms around where the piston of its shin met the thick armoured plate of the thigh and kept running. With its leg swiped out underneath its bulk, the robot tipped forward and crashed to the pavement in a spider web of concrete.
The tremor had Shion dancing back a few steps, dragging the twitching, struggling body of the robot with her. She stared wide-eyed for a moment, breathing heavily. She'd always known she was strong (too strong) but previously she'd only been capable of measuring her strength against her brother and father - both of whom far outmatched her. Anything or anyone else would have been dangerous. But this…this! Shion's grin split her face, whirling at the sound of another approaching machine. This one was far less dense than the other, but taller, skinnier and shinier with needle-like appendages. Built for speed, she guessed, rather than defence as the previous had been. An oblong head resembling a security camera rotated until it fixed onto her, before it began skittering forward in a spidery movement that was both alarmingly fast and more than a little off-putting. At that speed, she had five minutes at most before it reached her.
Layering her arms and shoulders with more muscle, Shion felt her shirt rip as she tugged the robot leg she was still clasping from the socket. With a grunt, she planted her feet as she spun, once, twice then released the robot leg at the second robot like a shot put. It wasn't a clean throw by any means, but the first robot's girth seemed to play to her advantage in these circumstances as it cannonballed straight into the spider-bot's oblong head. The spider-bot's head snapped back, wires screaming with mechanic pleas as it was ripped lose and (along with the leg) smashed into the third-story of a nearby tower. The remainder of the second robot stumbled drunkenly for a moment before it folded under itself, legs splayed about haphazardly.
"Ha! Nice!" Shion cheered, laughing like an idiot then immediately yelping as the first robot laboriously attempted to climb back onto its single remaining leg.
Hastily she clambered onto its angular chest before layering further muscle into her right arm, paying particular attention to her fist. She'd have to be careful. Too much augmented muscle mass took too much concentration to maintain, and not keeping it under control or attached properly could be just as detrimental. Shion had crushed her arm more times than she could count under the strain of incorrectly developed muscle as a child, and it was not an experience she'd like to repeat. But a childish, gleeful part of her insisted that she'd always wanted to try this.
The augmented muscle slipped into place around her knuckles and fingers, hopefully sufficiently cushioning them. Then she drew her fist back and, with all that inhuman strength bunching along her arm and shoulders, let it fly straight into the robot's chest. Metal folded under her like paper. Wires snapping. Electricity cackling then fizzing from existence with empty pops along her protected arm. Concrete heaved once like a disturbed pool under the force of the impact. And finally, the robot's light shrunk into nothing.
Holy shit.
It probably wasn't anywhere near the level of damage All Might or Hiroto was capable of (she'd only managed to punch halfway through, at best) but it was more than enough to send her pulse rocketing with glee.
There was a common misconception about Koyama Shion that because she never fought, she hated violence. Truth was Shion couldn't fight. Growing up, her Quirk hadn't been as stable as it was now and had been liable to activate at any given moment. Doors, walls, her friends, everything had suddenly become so breakable. In the space of a day she went from Koyama Shion to this big, ungainly thing living in a world of sugar paper.
Accidental or otherwise, when you hurt people enough they soon stopped wanting to be around you and Shion had been uncomfortably aware of how tenuous her peers' acceptance had been. Moving schools often helped, and she was sure she could have had it much worse (like the kid that constantly secreted corrosive acid from her second Middle School), but Shion had felt a little cheated. After all, uncontrollable bodily functions weren't meant to start sabotaging her social life until puberty. As much as she hadn't liked the necessary restraint, she'd got used to it and it was easier that way. Being careful meant no one got hurt.
But here she was being actively encouraged to cut free. Here everything was meant to be breakable. The sudden bloom of lightness that infused Shion the moment she pulled her fist free was bright and impenetrable. She took off running, bursting out into the second street, bursting out of her skin it felt like.
She forgot all about it being the U.A. Entrance Exam. She just launched at the first robot she spotted. It batted her back like a fly. The air was forcibly ripped from her lungs as Shion smashed straight through the window of a mock grocery store, skidding along her back against the linoleum and confetti of broken glass. Pulling herself into sitting position, Shion rested her elbows on her knees and wheezed a laugh. The extra layers of muscle had taken the force of the collision but were tattered and tender as a result.
She'd need to regrow them – a time consuming and draining process, and one Shion was confident she could handle at her current power level. A power level not achieved by training but an unintentional perk of living in a family with powerful Quirks and (with the exception of Kiku and Shion, of course) zero hesitation about using them. It was an experience that involved more memories of suffering through and fending off Augmented Strength Atomic Noogies than Shion was willing to revisit. Hiroto's impromptu and incredibly one-sided wrestling matches (and boxing matches and kickboxing matches and mixed martial arts matches, and how was she still alive?) were probably the only reason she was capable of shrugging off damage of that magnitude. 'Fragile' was not a condition compatible with Koyama Hiroto – unless you wanted to live the rest of your life as a paraplegic.
When her new muscle was attached, she'd need to take that robot out. And the one after that. And the one after that.
Unfortunately, her Muscle Augmentation Quirk did not apply to her lungs. Five robots in and Shion was officially out of puff. She'd been so caught up her earlier burst of freedom that she hadn't thought to keep count, but she supposed that she'd probably destroyed enough – a fact that left her a little irritated with herself now she'd stopped enough to think about it. Shion lifted her sweaty hair off her neck, she probably stunk and panting like a pig was hardly attractive. Unfortunately, her jacket was beyond salvation, barely held in place by her collar and the few buttons stubborn enough to withstand her formerly bulging muscles.
At least there didn't seem to be much of an audience around. A plain-faced boy she'd caught shooting cello tape (of all things) out of his forearms earlier glanced warily at where she was slumped against the crumbled remains of her final victim, but that was it. Shion had purposely tried to put as much distance between herself and the others as possible, cautious of any potential casualties even in her adrenaline. There was some sort of commotion raging on three blocks over and Shion lifted her head enough to watch a robot that skimmed the tops of the neighbouring skyscrapers crumple and fall. Impressive, but not something Shion thought worth dredging up the energy to investigate. She just put her head between her knees and panted, waiting for it to be over.
/-/-/
A week passed. The Acceptance letter came. Shion had cruised somewhere past passively fighting her fate, and meandered slowly into grim resignation. Head pillowed on folded arms, folded arms resting on her actual pillow, Shion watched the orange light of the setting sun shift and yawn across her ceiling.
Downstairs, the congratulatory party her parents had thrown was reaching a fever pitch of crooning dance music. Shion had excused herself hours earlier, a little sour that her parents hadn't made more of a fuss about her departure despite the fact that it was the last thing she'd wanted them to do. The fan on her desk whirred softly from left to right and back again.
She didn't know what to do with herself, and was equally unwilling to actually take anyone up on their suggestions. There'd been a perfunctory effort to call Hiroto but honestly she was secretly relieved he hadn't answered. She wasn't sure exactly what he'd say about her current situation but it definitely would not be good – she already knew she'd regret it, she already knew she'd hate it, and she didn't need Hiroto to tell her that. He'd probably call her a 'sell-out'. He'd always hated Heroes more than she had, but he'd always had more reason to.
Her old classmates (and the ones from the school before that, and the one before that, and the one before that) were already exchanging chains of "well done" and "I'll miss you" and "I'll always remember you guys" over social media, but if anything that was dragging her mood down further. She hadn't exactly lacked people to hang out with at school, but Shion had always been painfully aware of the difference between the class clown and an actual, proper friend. They'd forget about her in a month. Probably less. In the past, it'd seemed easier that way at the time because she'd inevitably be moving again, and better the fool than the thug. Everyone liked the fool - just nobody could be bothered keeping in touch with them apparently. Laid out on her bed in a state of fugue Shion really wished she had someone – anyone to talk to.
She sighed, eyes travelling over her posters – mainly punk bands and horror movies, a couple of Studio Ghibli ones and cheesy action or romance films that were secretly her favourites. Over to the drum set sitting neglected in the corner, before finally resting on the congregation of framed photographs on her desk. It was the one in the gummy frame that drew her attention, edged by glitter stars and planets.
Inside was a photograph of the Koyama siblings from way back when Kiku was still in nappies. All three of them were dressed as movie monsters. Hiroto with his blonde, spiky hair and slanted baby-blue eyes, grinning widely as he slung an arm around Shion's skinny shoulders. She remembered throwing up a fuss to be Godzilla (an honour that had unsurprisingly gone to Hiroto in the end), but the Mothra costume had been equally impressive with its bug-eyed goggles and fragile paper wings. Hair the exact same shade of honey blonde as Hiroto's and curving dark purple eyes scrunched up in a beaming smile, five-year-old Shion was flashing the peace sign while the other clutched a wobbly Kiku to her leg. Unlike the other two shining examples of costuming, Kiku's Rodan outfit left a lot to be desired – thanks in no small part to the infant's fascination with chewing toothless-ly on Rodan's beak.
At the age of five, her Quirk had manifested the year before and Shion had never told Hiroto how much she'd appreciated the easy way he'd continued to display physical affection. Not just the wrestling and play-fighting, but the way he used to pat her head when he was laughing at something she said (or just at her), or the way he used to grasp her shoulder when he was worried about her, or the rare crushing hugs. She wished she had that now. In fact, she'd always thought he'd been just as relieved to finally have a playmate who could keep up with his rough housing when the rest of the world seemed so frustratingly breakable (not that he would have admitted to something so embarrassing). Mostly though she wished she could go back, back to standing on the back of Hiroto's bike and playing Oni to Kiku's damsel in distress.
"Yo, I'm coming in, okay?" as per usual Hiroki asked for entry as he was already in process of entering. "What's up, Shion-chan?"
"Nothing, just chilling, y'know," Shion heaved herself into sitting position.
Hiroki snorted with incredulity, "just moping, you mean."
"I do not mope! Okay, I have been known, on occasion, to spend a lot of time sitting on my own, wallowing in self-pity and listing all the reasons why my life is totally ruined. But that's character building…I think."
Hiroki sighed, floorboards jumping slightly under his weight as he swaggered further into the room, "alright, c'mon. Budge up."
"Tou-san, you're not sitting on the bed," Shion huffed once with amused exasperation, "you'll snap it in two."
"Hey, it's not my fault that your weak bed can't take my weight," Hiroki complained in that palpably smug way that was uniquely his.
"There are freighters that can't take your weight, Tou-san."
"I'll take that as a compliment," Hiroki smirked and shrugged in acquiescence.
He poked around her desk awhile, smiling to himself at some of the photographs and squinting at the odds and ends tacked onto its corkboard back. Shion waited.
"So…" Hiroki frowned, popping his lips and tapping a nonsense rhythm on his thighs, "what's bothering you?"
"… Did Kaa-san send you? Blink twice if you need help," Shion grinned.
She didn't want to get into this with him. Getting into a fight with her parents was never a short-lived or quiet affair, and about as desirable as shoving a sea urchin up her backside.
"Oh, shit, yeah, almost forgot!" his eyes crinkled as he grinned and bounded forward to ruffle a hand through her hair. "You kicked some serious ass out there! I mean we never saw the tapes or anything, but judging the size of the clean-up crew…?"
He whistled to demonstrate how impressed by their size he'd been, "wrecking some serious damage like your old man, huh?"
Shion just kept quiet, fiddling with the frayed threads in her fashionably torn skinny jeans.
"You just…er, don't seem as happy about it, y'know."
"That's because I'm not," Shion muttered.
Hiroki was suddenly in action, moving closer with his broad features scrunched with confusion, "eh? But you were really up for it before!"
"You guys were really up for it," Shion turned her face away from her father's, worried that if he spotted her expression there'd be no going back.
Stupid, she'd said far too much already. Her body was already tensing up at the thought of an impending argument. But Hiroki had been the one prodding her for an answer, she hadn't approached him.
"What's that supposed to mean? You were the one who came up with it," Hiroki didn't sound angry, just like he was trying to grasp a complicated math equation. "Proper training and figuring out Hero stuff like their powers and tactics and shit, right? It's gonna give you an edge over everyone else in the business!"
"It's…" Shion sighed explosively, and dredged up a smile, "it's nothing, y'know. Don't worry, Tou-san."
Hiroki hesitated, "… you're sure? Cause if you ain't…"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm good. It's probably some teenage angst thing. If I start playing acoustic guitar and writing shitty poetry, please do me a favour and leave me out with the trash, okay?"
"You got it!" Hiroki chuckled, flashing her big grin.
He paused at the door, twisting round to add, "just don't mope so long, you'll vegetate."
"No turning turnip, you got it!"
Shion waited until he was gone before flopping back onto the bed. Hiroto probably would have just told their father straight and damn the fallout. Hiroto would probably have never got himself into this situation in the first place. Shion, on the other hand, was starting U.A. soon and had no hope of saving herself.
"Screw this," scowling, Shion threw herself off her bed and yanked on a zip-up hoodie, then her oversized leather jacket over that.
With her parents occupied with the karaoke machine, stuffing on her sneakers and heading out the door without their notice was easy enough. Wrestling her bike free from the ever increasing mound of junk at the back of their house was noticeably more difficult, but nothing Shion couldn't manage.
One foot planted on the pavement and the other braced against the pedal, Shion pulled in a deep cleansing breath before kicking off. It was late, the streetlamps already bobbing peacefully overhead like fat bellied fireflies and the night sky deepening to that swelling indigo, just on the cusp of night. Despite it being Fukuoka City, the foot traffic was blessedly light. Shion rolled past parents with toddlers between their clasped hands as they left restaurants, a group of teenagers shrieking and spraying at one another with water bottles, businessmen with their faces tucked into the collars of their coats and gazes impatiently locked on a (presumably) homeward direction. They hardly glanced up, their lives and Shion's just gently bumping against each other for a moment as they followed their separate currents.
At first Shion flew by them all, pouring the rising tide of frustration into her feet on the pedals until her hoodie and hair were whipping out behind her. The shopfronts and windows were lighting up around her as if ushering her into its embrace. Finally, Shion's shoulders dropped. The next push of speed was for the pure freedom of it, the salt air on her tongue and bubbled conversation of night-time people wafting about her. Standing on her pedals, she glided through it listening to the wheels clicking before leisurely turning to follow the path along the river.
She didn't know how long she rode. It didn't really matter. She felt cathartic afterwards, less like she was prickling inside her own skin. Sometimes she just needed to pull herself out the vortex of benign insanity that was her parents. Of course, none of her fears about U.A. had disappeared. She still thought that she'd thrown away her education (and therefore, the security of a job that didn't involve regular maiming) on idiotic boredom-ramblings. The thought of actually playing spy and using those teachings to become a Pro-Villain like her parents assumed, was something Shion didn't even want to bother thinking about at the moment.
But she was pretty sure U.A. also provided a standard education, or there'd be a bunch of Heroes defeated by basic calculus. And the Hero stuff was going to be nauseating, there was no getting over that, but it wouldn't be the first time she'd had to stomach a bunch of insufferable assholes. She didn't have to actually pay them lip service. She could probably fake her way through most of it, or preferably sleep through it since her Quirk meant that she'd coast through that portion of her lessons anyway. After all, it was out of her hands, not much she could do about it now.
Shion closed her eyes, inhaled a lungful of air crisp with sea salt and oncoming rain, and let it all go. Light from the electronic billboards rooted atop high rise buildings danced and skimmed along the placid surface of the river beside her in streaks of reds, golds and greens. Advertisements for high-sugar, high-energy drinks sponsored by the Hero flavour of the week. Up ahead the cluster of Yatai were breathing with activity, bellows of soy-tinged steam and distant cheering conversation wafted about her as she cycled past.
Shion let it all go.
Koyama (small mountain) Family:
Mother:
Civilian Name: Hanako (flower child)
Quirk: Voice Augmentation
Hair Colour: Pink
Eye Colour: Blue
.
Father:
Civilian Name: Hiroki (great tree)
Quirk: Muscle Augmentation
Hair Colour: Blonde
Eye Colour: Purple
.
Older Brother:
Civilian Name: Hiroto (big, great + command, esteem)
Birthday: 28th November
Age: 23
Quirk: Muscle Augmentation
Hair Colour: Blonde
Eye Colour: Blue
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Middle Child:
Civilian Name: Shion (Aster Flower, a purple flower, meaning in the Japanese Language of Flowers 'I won't forget you'/'remembrance')
Birthday: 16th August
Age: 15
Quirk: Muscle Augmentation
Hair Colour: Blonde
Eye Colour: Purple
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Little Sister:
Civilian Name: Kiku (Chrysanthemum, pink flower, symbol of the Emperor with Imperial connotations)
Birthday: 3rd June
Age: 10
Quirk: Voice Augmentation
Hair Colour: Pink
Eye Colour: Blue