"Scram kid!"
I huff in disbelief, irritated at being thrown out so rudely.
"You didn't even look at my resume!"
The old hag of a woman doesn't even look back as she slams the door. I threw my hands up in defeat and grabbed my phone to pull up the next place.
In between everything else, it took nearly a month of searching with too many dead ends. All of them turned me away. Most were kind about it when I told them that I was going to become a hero. "I'm sorry, but I won't send a child to their death."
Others, not so much.
Nothing I could say swayed them. Not how much money I could pay, or how hard I would work. They couldn't look past quirklessness.
Before I leave, I make sure to spitefully scream at the rundown dojo. "Maybe I'd be safer if I knew how to defend myself!" In the window of the top floor, I see the shadow of the old lady and a phone in her hand.
Shit.
I sprint away as fast as I can towards the train station. That's my cue to leave before the cops get involved. It doesn't hurt to get an early start for running either. Laughing breathlessly, I slow down slightly into a steady jog.
How silly is that people first look at something as small as your smile, compared to your actions? That they might turn away because maybe your smile was crooked, or that you had bad teeth?
Being quirkless was no different. Except it's more like you have no teeth at all and are a healthy adult, I muse morbidly.
Certainly, it got a lot of the same stares.
Checking on my phone, to see if I was going in the right direction. This dojo was harder to find, more obscure in the searches that popped up. On its website, it only had coordinates, a strong encouragement for hiking equipment, and a photo of an old-style dojo.
At the bottom? All entries accepted as long as you make it. :)
The cheeky motherfuckers. There was no way my curiosity would be sated until I found out what the hell was going on.
So it was as simple as plugging the latitude and longitude coordinates onto a map, and there was the place. Pretty much in the woods.
I'll make it, I think. It doesn't seem that far.
About half an hour later, I'm regretting everything. What was into a mild run turned into a full-blown hike through the forest. My calves burn, my head feels light-headed, and I'm wheezing with the pounding of my feet. Some light speckling of trees is on the hill, and I stare with glazed eyes up at the top.
Just above, I can see the edges of a green metal roof. There was no way I was going to make it up unless I ran full speed without slipping.
With a frustrated growl, tears burning in my ducts as I give a final push towards the top. Maybe it wasn't the best idea of starting with running. My legs start to shake, and my chest burns, and it feels like I can't get enough air.
A final push onto the tops flat surface and I collapsed onto the ground. Sucking in deeply and letting it out. Letting my whole body cool down and taking a second to rest.
I made it. That deserves some recognition, right?
Taking in my surroundings, the building with the green roof is slightly bigger than I thought. It had plenty of windows on the sides and a tan and brown modern aesthetic. On the inside was clear, with a small class of three already in training.
A gray fox of a male was leading them, who was strong for what looked to be his age. Perhaps about 80?
Oh no, he sees me. Now everyone's staring.
Embarrassed, I plop my face onto the grass and wave halfheartedly.
Gruff laughter reaches my ears, with several people walking towards me. Someone kneels closeby. "Well, you made it."
Guess I've basked in my shame long enough for today. I take a glance up and take the hand that helps me to my feet. A long human skinned tail curling behind them as they smile down at me.
"Welcome to our dojo. We don't have much, but we are happy to share." The elder greats. But I take a second glance, realizing how ridiculously in shape this guy is. I have a long way to go.
But I stand my ground, eyeing him carefully. "Will you still take me in, knowing that I'm quirkless?"
He may seem sweet, but sometimes people surprise you.
The man laughs. "You haven't even met us yet, and assume the worst? My, the youth never do change do they?" He steps up, placing a hand on the upper back of the blond who helped me. "If my students had a problem with that, then they wouldn't be training under me in the first place!"
Horrified, immediately beginning to apologize. "I'm so sorry for assuming! I- I didn't know."
He smiles, kindly. "It's all right. I understand where you come from. More than anyone I think. But you didn't come here for the lecture. You came to learn how to fight."
Heavily nodding, I resist the urge to jump up and down. Was this actually happening? "Yes, Sensei."
He nods approvingly. "You did your homework, but you still got a long way to go." I shift under the attention of my body. Yes, I wasn't the strongest, but lean for how short I am.
The boy in front of me smiles, waving his hand reassuringly. "He's just giving you a hard time. But It's good to meet you! I'm Mashirao."
The two others seemed to be the complete opposite of each other. One with poofy dark brown hair, and the other with long, straight jet black hair.
"I'm Taishiro." The male spoke, his voice deep but distant.
"I'm Yori." The girl spoke politely, but happily. "It's good to have another girl joining our ranks."
A blush coats my checks, but I don't bother to correct her. "I'm Otsuka. Do you have any water?"
"Here." Surprised, I flinch and grab the water bottle thrown at me. "You're not the first one to get up that hill without something to drink."
Mashirao flushes slightly, turning away. "It was one time." He mumbles.
"More like three." Yori giggles. He doesn't protest.
I twist open the cap and throw back the water until I remember that drinking a bottle of water under a minute is a bad thing.
"Mashirao. Lead the class for closing while I get to know Otsuka a little better."
"Yes, Sensei."
The three of them go back inside, while Sensei stands there, not saying a word.
"You have fast reflexes." He states, blandly.
Awkwardly, "Thanks." I respond.
"It's good that you are learning self-defense. Everyone could use a few moves in their arsenal. So, as stated on the website classes will be free of charge."
"Really? I don't need to pay anything?" It's too good to be true. Everyone wants something.
"Nope. Just pay me with your dedication. Every day except for Thursday we'll have classes from 4 PM to 7 PM. For now, go home. Be ready tomorrow with a uniform. Make sure to get a Karate one, white."
I'd have to ask to get one, but hopefully Father will be in a good mood. Hesitantly, I bow. "Thank you so much for this opportunity. I won't let you down." It was better not to question the kindness for now. I could prove that I deserved to stay here with my work.
"I hope to see that happen. Now go home. You'll have a long day to look forward to."
I chew on my lip. "Well, I'll go soon, I just need to rest for a bit before," I throw my arms exasperatedly at the slope. "Doing all that again."
"It'll get easier!" He remarks, walking back into the building.
He talks easily with the blond boy, all of them doing some complicated stretching position that I'll learn the name of one day. I have nine months now to make it happen.
Nine months train like a hero. To even have the smallest chance of success. They won't have to know about my dream. It was better to let them assume it was for a quirkless kid to have a chance against bullies, then to let them tell me that I would be the first to die as a hero.
I'm off down the hill, running and letting the thoughts die out. Getting into the steady rhythm of the jog, desperately dreaming of my bed back at home. It pushes me a little more, knowing that I could sleep when I got home.
An hour later, after getting onto the train out of breath and getting a lot of scolding looks, I arrive home. Something slams loudly from inside, and I pause at the front door. Incomprehensible grumbles are muffled. They don't sound very happy.
I stare at the doorknob, deeply exhausted. My whole body ached, I was thirsty, hungry, and just wanted to go to bed. Couldn't this happen later?
Trembling, I cradle one hand in the other. Where else could I go? There was nowhere else to leave too, and it would have happened sooner or later. It always does.
Taking in air, I open the door and straighten up. I wrinkle my nose in distaste, the sharp smell of cheap vodka hitting me. Carefully, I quietly shut the door. "Father? I'm home."
More grumbles from the living room. The trash is completely knocked over, trails of garbage to the wall and back. I swallow. There is no way I'm asking him now.
Softly I walk back to my room. Hoping that he's asleep.
"Wait."
Freezing, I listen for his approach, but it doesn't come.
"How'r day been." He slurs. I rolled my eyes this time, knowing he couldn't see. He always does this, but he won't let go until he gets his answer.
"Good." I replied stiffly. "I found a place that will take me in with no cost. So you don't need to worry." Complete silence. My neck prickles and I tense the longer it stretches. If I tell him about the uniform later, he'll be furious. "I will need to get a uniform. I'm sure how much it is, but we'll work it out."
"..What?" He growls, and a cold chill goes up my spine. But I can't help but feel confused. What is he angry for? I haven't done anything wrong.
As soon as I turn, I duck, the bottom of the lamp brushing past my hair. It slams onto the wall behind me, and I dash for my room. There was no persuading for him to calm down now. It was better to let him get it out.
"You're so ungrateful! Couldn't you be more of a charity case so that we wouldn't have to struggle so much? We don't have enough money for your adventures! I feed you- keep a house above your head, and this is how you treat me!? Why don't you get your own job?!"
Quickly locking the door, I crawl to the corner of my room behind a table, wrapping myself into a ball, and closing my eyes. The screaming outside the door turns into meaningless noise, but all of the focus is on my bedroom door.
He's just drunk. He won't even remember- or care, in the morning.
My thoughts turned off, and I waited for it to end.
But something else came. The harder I focused, the blurrier it became. So I relaxed, and it came into clarity.
I stood in front of a tall, double blue door. It seemed to stretch on forever up, and had been on a building that was so big, the sides curved.
Then I was on the inside, with the doors behind me. Around and below, were several large areas set apart from each other by wide dirt paths. As if it were an amusement park, but instead of rides, it was seeing different environments.
Dread tainted the air, a warping black whole growing in the center. By the thousands, evil souls just as dark poured from it. Beside me, the stars of bright white light that glowed so brightly began to scream, as if being in the same room with the other's was acid on their skin.
With a boom, both sides collided with each other. The multiple lights flickering out without hardly a sound. A brighter light came, duller in color larger but singular in its form. It came like lightning, striking down in front, angry, and vengeful.
The darkness squirmed with glee, and they crashed, louder than thunder. But somehow, the fight was already determined. The larger light was hurt, and the darkness found the weak spot.
In horror-filled clarity, I could see All Might, the number one hero's guts splatter across the floor. The beast that had its hand deep in the hero's chest is not one easily forgotten.
It's brain bulged out of its skull, leathery black skin that strained to stay together on top of bulking muscles. The eyes practically rested on top of the brain, it's beaklike face permanently grinning with human teeth.
It was a monster.
This had to be a nightmare.
When it turned to me, staring at me with hollowed eyes, I knew that this was it. I was going to die.
Please, let me go.
Yet it was over in an instant. My body flung to the side, the chest area collapsed under the fist. The monster roared in victory. Triumphant.
With a lurch, holding my face and going purely on a guess, I found my trash can in time and vomited.
It was like coming out of thick, hot tar. My body burned with fever, and everything shook. Or maybe that was just me.
I gagged, puking again. It felt like I was in the middle of a fever. My whole body aches like my muscles are locking together. Sniffling, tears drip down my face.
What was happening?
Choking down a loud cry, I listen outside my walls. Hearing nothing but silence. I allow myself a bit of a quiet whine, trembling and lurching. I had nothing left to give. I've already emptied my stomach.
This happened on and off for about an hour, slipping in and out of sleep when nausea became too much.
When clarity was within reach, I dared to think about dragging myself to the hospital. Something is wrong, and this felt nothing like a fever. Something like that doesn't hit all at once.
Yet the fear of knowing how badly my father would flip kept me by my loyal trash can. He does not like hospitals.
I groan, nausea is gone, for now. Crawling into bed despite the screaming of my body. The blanket gets thrown to the floor because even having the edge of it on top of me was too hot. Hopefully, this would all pass in the morning. I couldn't get sick now.