'Single-Quoted Italics' = telepathic thoughts / dream sequence

Bold Italics = ?

Chapter 2

I am in competition with no one.

I have no desire to play the game of being better than anyone.

I am simply trying to be better than the person I was yesterday

~ Unknown

First POV

It was dark and cold. It was always dark and cold in the Abyss. Everything was enshrouded in shadow, the perfect camouflage for the creatures lurking about.

I could feel them watching, waiting, patiently biding their time. A most unnatural choice of intelligence over instinct, a complete juxtaposition to their origins as creations without purpose, chaos incarnate. These creatures had existed since the beginning. They were a parallel to creations of purpose, like two sides of a coin.

Goosebumps welled up along my arms, hair tensing in suspense. The cloaking darkness parted forwards revealing a narrow walkway. At my lack of movement, the shadows behind me thickened, compelling me to step forward.

Walking aimlessly, I allowed for the lurking shadows to guide me as I mentally counted each step. 1, 2, 3, …

Hidden figures stood on the side lines, cognizant of every movement that rippled through the void. They continued to watch, their presence intensifying with each echoed footstep.

… 147, 148, 149, 150, …

They started softly as they always did, the quiet murmurs quickly escalating to harsh indecipherable whispers.

… 253, 254, 255, 256, 257, …

They were getting closer, clamouring over one another. Unseen mouths broke their silence. Tongues of all kinds moulded into speech. The sounds blended together into a cacophony of sounds – spiteful words, poignant cries, screeching wails, haunting moans, whispered curses.

… 301, 302, 303, …

They had stopped waiting. Their voices reaching a deafening peak.

I covered my ears at the overwhelming assault piercing my senses. Their souls were unrestrained, without any sense of order. They had no boundaries, bleeding into one another, fusing together till it was impossible to separate one from the other.

At my reaction, the surrounding chaos surged forward. They were aiming for my core, to merge with my soul. Surrendering to my fate, I closed my eyes. There was no point resisting. Experience had told me enough. They were too many and more were coming, for I was a small beacon in the empty Abyss and their relief was only a bite away.

… 319, 320, …

Utterly defenceless, I laid limply as they tore at my body, working their way inside. Snarls of desperation and hunger echoed through the Abyss.

… 364, 365.

With a lurch, I fell through black.

Over the years, I had learnt the importance of routines. My routines initially started at the insistence of my handlers, an attempt to help me readjust to normal civilian life. It worked. Routines were the anchors that kept me afloat, just like my lists.

The day always started at the crack of dawn, the morning sunlight slowly creeping through the window. I would watch the sweeping rays from my futon, a mostly unnecessary addition to my room. I had grown quite accustomed to sleeping on cold, hard concrete. The futon's softness was a disconcerting luxury I had to adjust to at the insistence of a certain man-child, though the warmth of the mattress was a pleasant change.

Savouring my final moments in the warm comfort of the thin mattress, I clumsily pieced jagged thoughts themselves together. My name is Amaya Miyuki. I'm not alone. This is not a dream.

A few extra minutes would typically be spent recalling the memories of the previous day before planning for the new one ahead. Today was no different.

Morning check-in. Get ready for school. Work. Dinner. Evening updates.

Stretching out from my warm cocoon, I grabbed the smartphone from the nightstand. The phone was one of the first items to come into my possession. It had only the basic pre-installed apps and a total of ten contacts. (There used to be eleven.) Each contact belonged to my primary handlers, just a small fraction of the network of people that oversaw me. I hated everything about that metallic device. It was yet another reminder that I was not safe. But I understood its necessity.

Selecting on Shizune's contact, I typed out my usual update: 'Woke up as usual. Nothing out of the ordinary.' Shizune was my designated psychiatrist and physician. In exchange for living on my own, I was required to send her daily updates on my wellbeing, on top of frequent trips to a private facility for health examinations. I had managed to talk down the frequency of the check-ups from weekly to once a month, on account of years of good behaviour and a promise to keep her updated of the slightest change.

I scrolled through the fairly one-sided conversation history displayed on the screen. Hesitantly, I quickly sent another message. 'I think I had that vague dream again. Woke up cold and remembering a number. 365.'

Her reply was quick, as always. 'Thanks for the update. Have a great day!'

Setting the phone back down, I stared at my wrist. I gently fingered the small silver charms that were thrumming a steady pulse. It was time to end my extra minutes in bed.

'Thank you for being here.'

Soft wisps of light swirled from the charms, each a different colour and moving to different rhythms. The tendrils trailed along the thin metal chain, illuminating it with a multicoloured glow. I smiled at the chorused reply, 'Always and forever'.

The journey to school was no different from the day before – it was made alone. Clearly, the conversation with Shouto had done little to change our relationship, even with my little admission.

Stepping into the bustling classroom, I settled down into my assigned seat. Aizawa had arranged us according to the class register the day before. My seat was right at the front and closest to the door. A shame since I would not be able to observe the swirls of vibrant colour without turning around and drawing attention to myself. So instead, I closed my eyes, tuning into my senses.

My Quirk was officially registered as Will-O'-Wisp. It allowed me to project what I would describe as spiritual energy –my soul– and bend it at will. Like a sixth sense, I could sense the souls of all living things and sync with them to influence, or even manipulate their flow. Thus far, I had found that establishing a connection with non-humans was significantly easier, on account of their more… simplistic nature. Connecting with other humans was not more difficult, per say, it just tended to be more overwhelming, not to mention an invasion of their very existence. I had little interest on perfecting that aspect of my Quirk given my past experience–and it wasn't like I could if I wanted to anyway.

My Quirk had been rigorously trained and fine-tuned far beyond what most Quirk-users would have gone through in their childhood years. As a result, it was far more developed and sensitive than what my physical body could handle, leading to painful repercussions if it was overused. As a precautionary measure, Kisuke had designed custom-made limiters to minimise the use of my Quirk and give my body time to play catch up–the silver bracelet that adorned my wrist was one of them.

With the limiters in place, my Quirk's sensitivity had been dulled. The constant bombardment of spiritual energies faded into the background, much like droning white noise, only rearing their heads to my notice if I consciously tuned into them. My Quirk range had also been shortened significantly and it took a lot more concentration to establish a full connection.

It took a while to adjust to the quiet peacefulness, but I was thankful for the escape, even more so with the realisation of my five plus-ones or guardian knights, as they called themselves – Artemia, Leon, Ezekiel, Reina and Akemi. They each had their own unique soul that burned with a light of their own, alongside mine. It was somewhat like Midoriya's faintly dusted green, but so much more. Their souls were somehow deeply entwined with my own, threading through my soul like vines and holding it together.

I was not too sure about the science behind how this was possible – for one body to host 6 conscious, active souls – but I never bothered to dig into it. They were one of the few good things that I had and being with them felt right. My main handlers, Kisuke and Shizune, were aware of their existence. They were unsurprised when I told them, maybe even relieved at the news – Kisuke was highly amused having thrown a couple playful quips while Shizune seemed pleased. The dark incomprehensible frustration that crossed their faces every once in a while (though they tried hard to hide it from me) was just a little less dark ever since my discovery. I highly suspected that some of my other handlers were vaguely in the loop too.

Unfortunately, with the artificial limiters in place, my connection with the five had been heavily affected as well. I was aware of their presence and could vaguely sense their intentions, but any verbal communication was muffled. It was almost as if we were attempting to speak underwater. It got better when Kisuke had added the charms to reroute our connection. With a little conscious effort on either side, we were able to bypass the limiters to allow for verbal, or rather mental, communication.

I quietly observed the class until the morning bell rang, signalling the start of the day. From what I had been told, U.A.'s morning classes were the standard "normal" lessons, like any other high school. Not that I knew what that was like either. Having missed years of formal education, I had been home-schooled. Nezu was particularly fervent in his teachings. His lessons were by far the most complex and absurdly long, which meant that I had gone over much of the standard high-school material years ago.

Realising this fact twenty minutes into each class, I quickly grew bored. I had nothing to do except to amuse myself with observing the rest of the class or passing the time with my knights. By the time the lunch bell rang, I had familiarised myself with the other fledgling orbs of colour to identify them as my classmates. I was not quite knowledgeable enough with their actual names to address them in person, but at least I would be able to recognise them on sight, sort of.

My senses were assaulted as I neared the cafeteria, and it only grew worse with each step closer. As the other bustling students came into view, I could already feel the oncoming of a migraine. Yeah, not today. I hurriedly requested for a takeaway before returning to the empty classroom to have my lunch in peace.

Ordered lunch in hand, I walked along the long U.A. corridors. My Quirk was slowly unfurling outwards. Flickers of warmth blipped into colour. Three specks blazing in one of the smaller training rooms caught my attention. Without thinking, I made a sharp turn towards them.

The cafeteria really had been too boisterous for us timid folk.

Light beeps rung in recognition of my student ID, the only fair warning the three inhabitants in the room had at my unexpected arrival. Before the doors had even fully slid open (did they really have to be that huge?), two jovial voices called out, not even the slightest bit surprised at my arrival.

"Miyuki-chan! You made it! Now you don't have to slink along the corridors like a trespasser anymore!"

"Nene, how's your first day so far? You look so cute in your uniform! Have you made any friends yet? Was there anyone interesting? I wanna know!"

Familiar with their camaraderie, I slid into the empty spot next to trembling purple. Giving the shy boy some time to adjust, I focused on returning the warm greetings.

"Uh… thanks? It's nice to see you too, Mirio."

"It's been okay so far, Nejire. Nothing interesting yet, but it might just be a little too soon to tell."

Turning slightly to the figure next to me, I said affectionately, "Hello Tamaki-san." The replied greeting was soft muttered back.

Unlike the other two, Tamaki still preferred having the suffix at the end. The one time we tried to remove it, he had turned an alarming shade of red (borderline purple really), well on the verge of passing out. It had happened at a terrible time too. We had been in the middle of crossing a busy street, on our way to a small yakitori shop that was the trio's frequent haunt. Shaky purple had shrivelled up faster than a mimosa and nearly crumbled on hard asphalt. But Mirio–bless his heart– hadn't missed a beat, slinging Tamaki's right arm over his broad shoulders, and dragging him to the other side. Nejire had just giggled the entire time, taking playful swipes at Tamaki's other shoulder while I fluttered around profusely apologising for putting him on the spot. That hadn't helped the flustered boy either. (Soft pink apologetically entwining with withdrawn purple did though.) We ended being a whole hour late to dinner, another thing I ended up apologising for, in the hopes of taking the stress off the flustered boy. (Pink and purple staying entangled right up until Takashi had pulled away from the restaurant for the drive home.)

Cracking open the still-warm yakisoba noodles, the rest of the lunch hour was spent in the welcoming warmth of U.A.'s Big 3.

The afternoon classes were when U.A.'s "Plus Ultra" kicked in, and by that, it meant that it was the time for Hero Basic Training. And of course, there was no other human that was "Plus Ultra" enough for our first lesson than the whirlwind of red and blue that smashed into the classroom, the same man that coined the catchphrase.

"I have come through the door, like normal!", a loud voice announced as the 6-metre-tall, thick, steel doors were slammed open. How… "normal"…

The unnecessarily dramatic arrival of the world's No. 1 Pro Hero triggered excited whispers around the room.

"It's All Might! Incredible. He's really gonna teach us!"

"That's his silver age costume! …"

All Might walked to the front of the classroom before striking a pose. "Hero basic training! The class that'll put you through all sorts of special training to mould you into heroes. There's no time to dally for today's activity is… Battle Training! And for that, you'll need these."

"In accordance with the 'Quirk registry' and the special request forms you filled out before being admitted …", All Might continued to explain as low mechanical whirring rumbled through the classroom. Cabinets storing numbered cases extended outwards from hidden panelling in the side wall.

"Costumes!" "Yeahhh!"

"After you change, come out in ranking order to ground beta!" "HAI!"

Standing in the girls changing room, I timidly stared at the case with my costume. I had no idea what my costume looked like and knowing who designed it, I was cautiously excited to find out.

~ Flashback to a few months ago ~

The deadline for my costume request was drawing closer. Nezu had informed me about the importance of this step in my high school admission, casually ending his two-hour long lecture with a cheerful "I'm expecting great things from you!". (I know, real subtle.)

On the day of submission, I still hadn't settled on a design. None of the drafts had felt right. With time running out, I decided to take my drafts with me to my routine check-up. I had continued working on the drafts in between the tests, sketching page after page, but still came up empty.

"What are you working on?"

Turning my head, I watched as Shizune took in the latest draft. "Ooh, is that for your hero costume?" Staring morosely at the light pencil strokes, I gave a soft hum in reply.

"You know if you need some help, Kisuke would be happy to design your costume."

I visibly cringed at that suggestion. Amused at my reaction, Shizune reassured, "I know what you're thinking, but Kisuke really would be the best person to help you with this. He's known you and your Quirk the longest. Plus, he has experience working on a costume or two through his work with various support companies."

A few tests later, I was dismissed for the day. I thought about Shizune's suggestion as I changed out of hospital scrubs. Asking Kisuke for help would be risky. The eccentric man was constantly bouncing between ideas, each more bizarre than the next. It was impossible to anticipate what he would do next, and that was without factoring in his personality switches between a scientific genius and mischievous four-year-old. For me to approach him for help with my costume design, I would have to be very desperate and out of options.

I stared once more at the paper sketches before setting off with a huff. It was a good thing I had told Takashi to take the day off.

~ End of Flashback ~

The other girls were almost finished changing. Steeling my nerves, I opened the case to find a white envelope resting on top of folded fabric,

'To my darling Miyuki princess, it fills me with so much joy that you came to me, your beloved Kisuke, to design your hero costume! I've had so many ideas for your costume over the years…'

I skimmed through the rest of Kisuke's three-page personal letter before going through the accompanying detailed costume specifications.

The innerwear was comprised of a black sleeveless mock turtleneck bodysuit and black shorts. They went under a luxurious black kimono jacket that was silky soft to the touch and ended around my mid-thigh. Paired with a pink obi, the jacket had a red inner lining and billowing sleeves that trailed a few inches shorter than the main piece. The body and sleeves of the kimono was intricately stitched with a branching pattern that creeped upwards from the bottom to the middle of the jacket. Red and white flowers dotted along the pale pink vines. Black socks and dark ankle boots completed the look.

I wore the jacket loosely around my frame, exposing the curve of my shoulders. Reaching back into the case, I secured a small pouch containing basic first aid items and some multi-coloured pellets to the right of my lower back. The pouch was kept expertly hidden under the kimono jacket but still within a familiar arm's reach. It was just one of the many provided gadgets, but I doubted I would need the other items today.

"Wah! You look so cute, Amaya-chan!" I turned around at the excited voice. "I'm a little embarrassed by mine."

I took in Uraraka's own pink and black ensemble before softly replying, "You look good too. It suits you." She perked up at my words, grinning at the compliment, "Aw, you're so sweet Amaya-chan! Do you want to walk out together?" I hesitated for a fraction of a second. I was out of my element.

At my delayed response, Uraraka took the initiative, linking her arms with mine. "I wanted to do this with you yesterday too, but you were gone before I could ask. I didn't even notice when you had left the room. It was just like a ninja!" She giggled at my flustered expression.

We were quickly approaching the testing grounds. As we stepped out of the hallway, Uraraka unlinked our arms, but not without asking, "Ano, what's your Quirk? I don't think I saw you use your Quirk in Aizawa-sensei's test yesterday. You must be really strong to have still managed 17th place without it." I stiffened at the question. Thankfully, Uraraka's attention was drawn away as Midoriya joined the rest of the class.

I half-listened as All Might explained the rules of the mock battle exercise. I had not expected anyone, besides Aizawa, to have noticed. I was used to blending into the background, being a fly on the wall.

I might have underestimated the students of 1-A.

I tuned back in as I heard my name, "Kaminari Denki, Jirou Kyoka and Amaya Miyuki will be Team G!" I let out a small sigh of relief at not hearing Uraraka's name with mine.

After the rest of the pairs and the first match-up were announced, I followed the group to the monitoring room. A blonde-haired boy with a lightning-shaped black streak on his fringe came up to me along the way. "Hey, you're Amaya Miyuki, right?"

I hesitantly nodded in reply. There was a certain lively mischievousness in his soul that was reminiscent of a certain man-child. The boy grinned with a playful glint in his eyes, "Something must be wrong with my eyes, because I can't take them off you." Was this a blonde thing?

The boy's features morphed into a satisfied smirk, only to jolt in pain. From behind him, a short-haired girl with elongated earlobes was frowning in distaste. One of her earlobes had jabbed itself into the boy's ear. "Sorry about that. I'm Jirou Kyoka and this idiot here is Kaminari Denki. We're your partners for the exercise." The sedated thrumming of the girl's indigo soul was a nice welcome after the teasing shocks from electric yellow.

Sandwiched between my two partners, we walked behind the rest of the class. Kaminari and Jirou went back and forth, happily carrying on with the conversation as I watched on. They were introducing their Quirks when Kaminari side-tracked to battle strategies and possible "mega-watt" combo moves, clearly getting ahead of himself in the excitement.

Ignoring the blabbering boy, Jirou curiously asked, "So, what's your Quirk?" Returning back to the present, Kaminari paused, "Oh yeah, you didn't seem to be using it at all yesterday and still managed to avoid being dead last." He leaned in closer, eyeing me as he teased, "Are you some kind of genius or something?"

So the class had noticed. I had been hoping that it would just have been Uraraka since we had personally interacted before the test. A pit of anxiety welled up in my gut. I should have known better.

I unknowingly tensed at the realisation and it did not go unnoticed. An uncomfortable tension washed over us. Luckily, I was saved from having to stammer a reply as All Might entered the room.

I paid studious attention to the matches, pointedly ignoring the awkwardness and burning curiosity of my teammates that lingered in my peripheral.

I knew that my Quirk would be revealed to the class eventually, but I could not help wanting to delay the reveal for a little while longer. It had determined so much of my life thus far. Was a reprieve too much to ask for? Why couldn't I just be me for me? Nothing dangerous, nothing special?

('You're not though, are you? You are special. You are precious. You are sweet. And isn't that just tiring?')

A sharp no-nonsense split of blue pricked at my wrist. Shocked out of my trance, I probed at the glowing blue dagger. 'Rei? What was that?'

A disconcerting silence was the only reply.

Instead, bright spots of colour flared into action, a blissful distraction from the strange, twisting encounter. (Twisting? What was it twisting?) Each shade was moving to a different rhythm, steadily emanating budding warmth. Some were more prominent than others like Katsuki's sparking crimson, Shouto's bisected red-blue, and Midoriya's speckled green.

Before I knew it, it was my turn. "The next heroes are Team G and the villains will be Team J! Since the heroes are a squad of three, they will have an extra handicap. They will have just five minutes to capture the villains or secure the weapon, instead of ten.", All Might announced in his booming voice.

The rest of the class were muttering about the absurd time limit as the two teams left the room. As the hero team, we had an extra five minutes to kill while the villain team set up their traps.

The awkwardness from before had returned in full force. Filling in the tensed silence, Kaminari bemoaned about our team's disadvantage. "Oh man, this is impossible. How the heck are we supposed to win this in just five minutes? I get that we outnumber the villain team, but it'll probably take us five minutes to just get to the top floor–" A hard elbow was jabbed into his gut, courtesy of Jirou who proceeded to chide the sulking boy.

What Kaminari had said was true. All Might's handicap did seem to significantly favour the villain team by almost a disproportionate amount.

('It's all your fault.')

But, by having it announced to the whole class, it was most likely that the villain team would be aiming for a drawn-out match, which meant…

Hesitantly, I interrupted the bickering duo, "Uh, I actually think we have a better chance of winning this." The awkward silence returned two-fold as the two turned their full attention to me. I flushed at having become the centre of attention. I clenched my fists before soldiering on, "I mean, yeah, five minutes is a short timeframe for the exercise but that's also to our advantage since that's what the villain team will be thinking too… which… I mean… Ah, I'm not explaining this right… Wh-What I mean is that, since the villain team knows that we only have 5 minutes, chances are that they'll be aiming to draw out the battle. To do that, they'll most likely position themselves at the top floor, to waste more time. It's probably likely that the rest of their plan will have similar goals: to waste our time. Given what we know about their Quirks, there aren't that many possible combinations that would work to slow us down. So, they'll be predictable. If w-we can make use of that predictability, we could have a chance at winning?"

At this point, my eyes were drawn to the ground. My face was flushed warm, and I was slightly trembling in nervousness. A tiny seed of regret had been planted during my speech, sprouting a little more with each stumbled word and with the thought of how pathetic I was at my inability to communicate coherently. My fists were clenched tight, half crescent imprints digging into my palms.

('It's all your faul–')

I was more than ready to dig a hole or press myself into a wall –a surprisingly useful technique learnt from a fellow anxiety sufferer– but I had made promises to try harder. Granted, they were made under duress (and I might have been crossing my fingers while making them) but I had still given my word. Besides, I felt bad for my two partners. They would not have had the handicap if I had not tagged along.

('It's all your f–')

Having been staring at the ground, I missed the karate chop that landed harshly on parted blonde hair, preventing the boy from giving a thoughtless reply. Softening from the pointed look she gave Kaminari, Jirou addressed my nervous blob of flesh, "Hmm… that's a good point Amaya-chan. What do you propose we do then?"

The tiny sprout burned away as I peeked upwards, slightly bewildered at the encouraging tone. Kaminari was rubbing his sore head but still managed a mega-watt smile and a firm thumbs up. Jirou stared softly, her motherly gaze attempting to soothe my nervousness away.

"Well –" Just as I was about to share more about my plan, All Might's voice boomed through our earpieces. "Hero team! You may enter the battleground. Like the other matches, your countdown will start 5 minutes after you step foot into the arena."

('It's all you–')

As we made our way to the arena, I hurriedly rushed to explain, "My Quirk is not going to be very useful in this exercise. I work best with plants. B-But I have been trained in hand-to-hand combat, so I'll only be useful when we have encountered the other team. Based on what we saw yesterday, we're up against a hardening Quirk and a tape-Quirk. That doesn't give the villain team much to work with to hold us off. My guess is that they would have created some sort of tape obstacle between the door and the bomb. The tape guy will probably be their last line of defence while the hardening guy is close to the door to hold us off."

Slightly winded with a sudden rush of adrenaline, I turned to Kaminari, "Kaminari-san, how much control do you have over the electricity that you can discharge?" The blonde grimaced in reply, "Not much. My control only extends towards lower output levels which will be enough to give you a light zap, but that's about it. Anything beyond that will just fire all over the place. If I discharge too much, I'll be out of commission for a while."

"Hmm… We should probably keep you away from the bomb then. In a real scenario, you might set it off… Think you can take the hardening boy? His costume has a lot of exposed skin that you can use to shock him. N-Not enough to hurt him! B-But just enough to be uncomfortable. You just need to hold his attention so that either Jirou-san or I can slip past."

At his sunny thumbs-up, I turned to my other teammate, now flustered. "W-We need to prevent the other boy from creating more tape. Ideally, we'll need a way to cut through his tape too. Are you able to manipulate your soundwaves to amplify sound pressure?"

"I've never tried that before. In theory, maybe but I'm not sure if it'll be enough to cut through the tape."

"We can test that out when we first enter the room then. Project a soundwave to disorientate the villain team and we'll see if that will be enough to tear through the tape. If it's not enough, then you should switch to the rear guard. Release frequent pulses of sound to disorientate the villain team. Try to time your attacks to prevent them from slowing us down. Vary the frequency if you have to so that they can't get used to your attack. I'll slip around whatever trap they have to reach the bomb… I-if that's okay with you?"

"Sounds good to me, but won't my soundwaves affect you two too?"

I reached into my back pouch to grab some cotton balls and gauze. "Not as badly if we use these as earplugs."

As Kaminari and I fastened our makeshift earplugs, Jirou plugged one of her earphone jacks into the wall. Listening intently, she informed us, "They're definitely on the top floor. We better hurry."

Jirou led the team to the top floor. She stepped into the door as Kaminari and I covered our ears. Her earjacks were plugged into tiny sockets in her boots, releasing a powerful soundwave that reverberated through the room. Though we were not in the line of fire, the amplified vibrations still sent shockwaves through our bodies.

As expected, the villain team had set up an elaborate spiderweb of tape that blocked any hope of easy access to the bomb. Despite her amplified sound, each strand of tape swayed gently, unbroken from our pre-emptive attack. So much for that idea.

Recovering quickly, Kaminari and I darted into the room, going straight for our targets. Having been positioned closer to the door, the hardening boy had been more affected by Jirou's soundwaves. He was still recovering from the sound attack when Kaminari reached him. As they engaged in close combat, I headed for the other pseudo-villain.

I ran low to the ground, dodging streams of tape that were sent my way. The frequency of the shooting tape increased as I got closer, a frantic attempt to avoid close combat unlike his partner. Now within striking distance, I aimed for his obvious weak spots - a punch to his left shoulder, a kick to his side, another strike to his exposed shoulder. Moving in disorienting circles around him, I continued the barrage of attacks, making sure to stay out of the way of his tape dispensers.

Strong pulses of sound echoed through the room at random intervals. Unbeknownst to the other team, each amplified pulse was counting down our final minutes to the test. Having watched some of the previous hero teams run out of time, Jirou had suggested to help us keep track of what little time we had. Each minute that passed would be signalled by three successive pulses. We had an estimated three minutes left to the test upon reaching the top floor.

Ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum. The second set of consecutive pulses. We had one minute left.

Exchanging blows with the tape boy, I waited for my next opening. His lack of experience and formal training meant that I did not have to wait long. Landing a hard punch to his diaphragm, my opponent bent over, winded from the hit. Crouching down, I swung my leg to swipe at his feet. As he fell backwards, I side-stepped past him towards the sticky net.

The strings of tape made for a dense forest of webbing. I had to be strategic in choosing my path. Many of the strands were layered closely, narrowing any pockets of free space to less than two shoulder widths. If I wasn't careful, I would get caught in their spiderweb.

Fully concentrating on weaving through the web, I did not notice the strip of tape shot in my direction. The sticky cellophane stuck to my right lower leg, yanking me backwards. Acting quickly, I swung my right leg to the side. The attaching tape glued itself to one of the other strands of the net, preventing it from being retracted by its creator. Taking advantage of the momentum, I moved sharply in the opposite direction.

Falling to the ground, I felt a burning sensation from the sticky adhesive that was ripped off my leg. A red rectangle marked the layers of skin that were stripped in the process.

I scrambled to my feet, twisting around the last few strands of net. Just as my fingertips brushed the paper mâché bomb, a loud buzzer rang through the room. "The villain team wins!"

I froze at the booming voice, slowly retracting my outstretched hand. Standing still, I shifted my weight to the left. My right leg was still throbbing. I sighed softly as a familiar disappointment weighed on my shoulders. ('It's all your f–')

Turning around, I gingerly stepped back through the tape barricade while removing the wads of cotton in my ears.

As I ducked under the last strip, a pale hand stretched out. I glanced upwards to a smiling black-haired boy, "That was a great match! You nearly got us there." Yeah… Nearly… ('It's all your fau–')

Turning glum at the direct reminder, I sullenly ignored the outstretched hand.

Without dropping a beat, the friendly boy continued, "I'm Sero Hanta. You're Amaya Miyuki, right? You're really strong. Are you a recommendation student too?" I shook my head in response. The circumstances for my admission were not quite the same as the official student recommendation.

Purple and yellow entered my peripheral. Turning to my teammates, I bent forward into a bow. ('It's all your fault.')"Sorr–", I was interrupted by a soft karate chop to my head.

"No need to apologise. That was great, Amaya-chan!"

"Totally! You're pretty, talented and smart. What a total package –" Kaminari chimed, earning an automatic stab in the ear. Ignoring the violent jab, Jirou added, "Besides, we wouldn't have gotten so close without your ideas. So really, we should be thanking you."

Blushing at the unexpected compliment, I muttered a soft reply, "Thank you Jirou-san. We couldn't have done it without you either."

"No need to be so formal. Jirou-chan, or even Kyoka-chan, is fine. Can I call you Miyuki-chan?" I nodded shyly. For some reason, I felt a lot more comfortable around Kyo–Jirou than Uraraka. Perhaps it was because she reminded me of a certain purple-haired woman who had a similar reign on hyperactive man-children.

The other half of the villain team spoke up from the doorway, voice slightly above normal volume, "Hey! We should head back to the monitoring room." At our collective wince, he sheepishly apologised in a much smaller voice, his arm scratching his head in embarrassment. "Sorry about that. You really got me good there. My ears are still ringing. I'm Kirishima Eijiro by the way."

Stepping away from the chattering class, Uraraka bounded up to us as soon as we entered the room. "That was amazing– You're bleeding Amaya-chan!" The rest of the room turned silent at her exclamation. My cheeks heated up at being in the centre of attention. Ducking down, I glanced at my right leg. Tiny drops of bright red dotted the welt, some of them were trickling down my leg from the walk back to the room.

"Oh shit! I'm so sorry, Amaya-chan!" I shook my head at Sero's unneeded apology. He had barely done as he was supposed to. This was barely a scratch compared to what a real villain would do. ('And you'd know, wouldn't you?')

Avoiding eye contact with my classmates, I glanced at All Might who gave me permission to see Recovery Girl. There wasn't really a need for me to see the school nurse, but I left anyway to escape the unwanted attention. I didn't want to stick around to hear Yaoyoruzu's perceptive analysis of what I had done wrong. ('It's all your–')

Relaxing slightly now that I was out of the spotlight, I noticed the gentle prodding of yellow, 'Miyuki-sama, may I?'

'You don't have to Ez. It's only a minor flesh wound. Nothing to worry about.'

Yellow tendrils stretched downwards, curling around my injury. 'I'll worry anyway, Miyuki-sama.'

For some reason I could not place, there was a part of me that felt guilty every time my knights had to help me. It did not matter that they seemed genuine in wanting to help. In a smaller voice pricked with blame, I said 'Thank you and I'm sorry for the trouble Ez.'

'Don't apologise, Miyuki-sama. It's no trouble at all. There is nothing that would change the fact that we are here for you. So don't apologise, for anything. We are here because we want to be here. We do things for you because we care. There's no need to explain or apologise because we understand.' The others fiercely thrummed in agreement.

Glowing vines trailed around my wrist, sending spurts of warmth through my core. I did not know how to respond, touched by what felt like undeserved tender affection. 'Thank you for being here.'

'Always and forever.'

'You don't have to damn thank us Marshmallow. And quit giving in! You know it's not true. How many times do we have to go over this?!'

'Sorry Rei –'

'Baka, what did we just say?!'

By the time I reached Recovery Girl's office, my wound had been patched up and my spirit lightened. The nurse's office was like a standard hospital room: the room was a pristine white and there was a certain smell of clean disinfectant in the air. There were some personal touches around the room which might have been successful in making other visitors feel comforted but they had little effect on me. I had too much experience to know that it was the people that would make the actual difference.

As I stepped into the room, Recovery Girl kindly called out, "Hello Miyuki dear. Were you injured too? Do you need any healing this time?"

I shook my head in reply as my attention was drawn to the injured Midoriya who was asleep in one of the beds. His right arm was in a cast and both arms were wrapped up in a thick layer of bandages. An IV drip was attached to his inner elbow. I stared at him in concern. It was unusual to see a Recovery Girl patient still in such bad shape after treatment.

"Your classmate is just resting. He didn't have enough stamina so I had to put him to sleep. Poor boy. It's only the second day and this is already his third time here. He'll have another healing session in a few hours."

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. While Midoriya's soul was a walking contradiction to everything that I knew (or thought I knew), it was still extraordinary. His match had made that clear enough. He had moved with an air of courage and passion, standing his ground against explosive talent. What was more interesting, was the state of his soul. It was just a little less fragile than it was before the match. His Quirk was still superficially connected with his soul, but the soul itself was calmer and a deeper hue. It was almost as if it had found its own unique place in the sea of colours. He was a little more gold which made an odd contrast to his current physical state and the weakness that Recovery Girl described.

Mesmerised, I unknowingly reached out to the calming green but paused at a disturbing thought. In the span of less than an hour, this boy had managed to achieve something I had been struggling with for years. He had grown. He was warmer and brighter.

Disheartened at yet another reminder of my misfit in this place, I brushed lightly against cloth bandages as I stared at the resting boy in envy. It was clear to me that Midoriya carried with him something that I wanted for myself but could not name. ('Perhaps you are not worthy.')

From behind me, Recovery Girl traced my dejected outline. She lightly patted my back in reassurance, "Don't worry my dear. You'll get there."

The door to the nurse's office slid open. As Recovery Girl greeted the new visitor, I took my cue to leave. Zoning out, I focused on the soothing warmth around my wrist as self-deprecating thoughts toiled continuously in my mind. My body moved on thoughtlessly back to the classroom, side-stepping the tensed emancipated blonde in the doorway. Had I been paying attention, I might have noticed the striking resemblance between the stranger's soul and that of my injured classmate.

With practiced ease, I stepped unnoticed around the loitering 1-A students.

Grabbing my things after the last class for the day, I made my way back to the female changing rooms to get out of my hero costume. Once the soft fabric laid neatly folded in the briefcase, I took my time to read through the enclosed documents. Including Kisuke's letter.

Shizune was not wrong in stating that the man knew me best. As retarded and inappropriate as he appeared to be most of the time, at his core, Kisuke was a sensitive, astute and thoughtful man. He was one of the first people I had met after my rescue and he had effortlessly assumed the role of my primary guardian months later. From the moment I met him, I knew he was different. He was unlike any of the other guardians that had been tasked with the rehabilitation of pre-pubescent villain victims (a program I would later discover was created for me, and other children of similar… upbringing). Instead of maintaining a professional distance, Kisuke had spent countless hours coaxing me out of my traumatised shell. He was patient and understanding, radiating a familiar stable warmth that I had been bereft of for years.

Although I would never admit it out loud–and especially to his face–I saw the man as a father figure, a pillar of strength. I was immensely grateful for his persistence, his devotion, and even his comedic nature which was, in all likelihood, a relentless attempt to pick me up. I knew without a shred of doubt that I would always be able to rely on him. He was always there when I needed him, and even when I did not know what I needed. It almost frightened me how much I relied on him, how much I needed him. Always and forever.

Actively choosing not to dwell too much on the bloom of warmth from hastily scrawled words, I pocketed the letter. I made a mental note to add it to my treasure trove of other similar letters. A trove that I would continue to deny ever existed, to my dying grave. The guaranteed dramatics from the ultimate drama queen (king? No. Queen, definitely queen) was just not worth it.

Stowing my costume case into my designated locker, I left the room. My head was in the clouds as I walked out of campus. Exiting from the back gate, I leisurely strolled around the perimeter of the campus.

It was pleasantly peaceful until I heard a rough guttural scream echo, "I lost to you, today!" The voice grew progressively louder as I walked closer to the gate. Now within sensing distance, bursts of green and crimson came into view. Curious, I peeked around the edge of the front gate, watching the boy continue to vent on speechless green. "I'm gonna beat you all!" I ducked out of sight just as Bakugo turned around screaming, "It'll never happen again! Dammit!". Hastily, I walked away from the oddly intimate confrontation, just missing the arrival of All Might.

Light footsteps faded into the cacophony of the bustling city. A mere shade in the crowd, I quietly contemplated today's events. My guardians' plans (most likely Nezu's or Urihara's) was just starting to be decipherable. I was clearly placed in an environment warmed with potential and unmistakable kindness. While I appreciated the attempt, I did not feel like I deserved it, yet alone belonged there. Not after lifetimes of deliberate solitude. The only tiny consolation I had was that I would at least be able to keep up with the class physically and academically, but even that was attributed to years of my guardians' relentless insistence. (Right?)

A tinkling ring rang through the tiny corner store. I sighed softly at the tranquillity of the room as I made my way to the staff quarters at the back. Just a little more I guess.

Author's Note:

Played around with the formatting today. I hope I'll be able to remember them lmao. Also, I've been having a little bit of a writer's block for like 2 weeks now, so... yikes. Anyway, let me know what you all think about this chapter/the story so far. I'd like to know what you all think!

P.S. I do not own anything that is already familiar to you. Please read my disclaimed in Chapter 1.