Warnings: None

Shibuya Scramble

Chapter 01:

"A String Down From Heaven"

Otosaka Ayumi died on February the 8th, 7:29 p.m.

It was a cold night. Windy. The streets were quiet, nightlife slowly emerging with the vestiges of day blinking away. Neon signs flickered awake and the mobs meandered forward; some done with work for the day, and others just starting. At one particular intersection walked a girl—tall, lithe, her hair a shade of stunning white. She was dressed in her school uniform; a white blouse tucked into a black skirt with a beige jumper thrown over the top. She wore a pair of pristine high tops, feet treading soft steps as she approached a junction in traffic. The girl paused to look left—then right, barely garnering a blink from the swathe of people sliding past her. Lights flashed red, and everyone came to a stop—everyone except the steps of one individual.

First came the thud.

Then came the screams.

The girl—Ayumi—was sent flying like a ragdoll down and across the asphalt. Her hair spread out around her like spider threads, her body twitching in a mixture of pain and shock. Lights flashed green, and a familiar ticking heard, soon followed by the fleeing screech of the offending vehicle. Onlookers cried out in alarm and very quickly a small crowd had gathered. A doctor pushed his way through to the front of mob to commence first aid, shouting for someone to ring for an ambulance. He tilted her head, sucking in a breath as he assessed her injuries.

Severe lacerations, several fractured ribs. Bleeding from the head and a likely concussion. Dark bruising and extensive road burn to her arms and face.

Soon she was being rolled into an ambulance and driven away, ECG monitor and IV already attached. Her vitals were fine, and the EMTs tried to keep her conscious. One minute she was steady, carefully strapped into the ambulance and heartrate monitored. The next she was seizing, body rattling with cardiac arrest, seizures and frothing from the mouth. Seconds later and they heard a flatline. A paramedic cursed, lifting a hand to check her wrist. Nothing. With seconds to spare they injected adrenaline and prepared to shock her.

Once.

Twice.

Nothing.

After thirty minutes of electrifying bleeps, the girl remained unresponsive. The responders massaged their temples and slumped down in defeat, realizing the girl was too far gone to save. The vehicles mood was solemn, darkened with the unfortunate outcome. They lived by death, saw it every day of course, but the passing of a girl yet sixteen weighed heavy on their conscience. One paramedic moved to call central and declare the casualty, but then—

A heartbeat—barely visible on the monitor.

Then another.

With something akin to disbelief, the EMTs shot out of their seats and yelled for the driver to ramp up its mad rush to the hospital. Minutes later and she was being rolled into extensive care, doctors and nurses already by her side. Soon, Ayumi was stable—steady, and it was declared that the girl would live.

The girls parents were rung up to wait and pace in the emergency room. Calls of condolences were made. Flowers were sent. Demands for justice began to emerge. An investigation was launched, testimonies were made, and a week later and it was announced that they had caught the culprit, who was now locked up and awaiting trial. A report was made and in the end the whole debacle was declared an accident—a simple hit and run.

To those who were there that day it came as a surprise. There was no news of a girl walking out at a red light. No news of suicide.

Only an accident.

The media believed it.

The people believed it.

The girls family didn't. After all, they're the ones who bribed the investigators and media outlets.

News spread like wild fire—not only locally, but nationwide. Reports on the unfortunate incident and miracle of Otosaka Ayumi hit trending mere minutes after its announcement.

One would think it strange, the excessive attention for some fifteen year old girl, and you would be right.

The problems came with her last name.

According to the papers, Ayumi was a bright individual—smart, empathetic, the kind of person who'd set up charity dinners or shelter stray animals. Not only was she kind, but she was also wealthy. The Otosaka clan held shares in nearly every hero agency, along with owning the second biggest manufacturing company in Japan. Ayumi was even blessed with an amazing Quirk. Perfect for a future hero. With a multitude of friends, perfect grades, and a strong Quirk, one would assume that she lived the perfect life.

A week passed since the collision, and then another, and with still no signs of awakening, people began to fear that the girl would never wake up. It was only a month later that a nurse found the girl awake in her room, standing beside a mirror to stare, before promptly falling unconscious.

In the end, the whole thing was stapled a miracle, and frankly, they weren't wrong.

You see, Ayumi did die.

And in her place, Tabitha awoke.

A/N:

Hello! Back again with another story because idk. Idea just hit me when I was reading another fic and I was like, 'It's gonna take years before I get to canon with my other fics, so ima write this!'

Anyways, I want to try something new with how I handle my A/N's. I'm gonna start adding author questions to get your thoughts on the story, so if you're unsure on what to review please try and answer these as best as you can! It'll help me a bunch in writing and see what you guys would prefer :)

With no further ado:

1. What do you guys think Ayumi's quirk is? I kinda tried to make it as obvious as possible, so shouldn't be too hard haha XD

2. Thoughts on Ayumi's family? Good? Evil? Neutral? What do you think?

3. What POV would you guys like in this story (and overall thoughts on the chapter)? I usually write 1st person, but I think I'd like to give 3rd person a go :)

And can I just say how freaking hard it is to write a summary! How do I condense an entire story into a sentence AAAA! This one took me a good 30 minutes, so I hope it was okay... then again, you wouldn't be here unless it attracted you so... good job me?

Will update tomorrow! Or the day after that. Eh.

Till next time!

Gridly.