~Authors Note~

Wow. . . has it been 3 weeks? Crazy. Honestly, every day, I thought, "Ya know, imma just buckle down and edit and post it. I'm gonna just do it!"

And then. I. DIDN'T!

Anyways, I could list all of the reasons why I'm so late, but I don't want to, and I'm sure you don't care either, so let's get to know each other a bit better before we divulge our daily struggles, PTSD triggers, and the last time we washed our bedding to one another, okay?

Also, it took me awhile to feel okay with this chapter because, I wanted to express the challenges I went through and am going through, and that EVERY OTHER YOUNG ADULT IS GOING THROUGH, in an authentic and realistic way- I should stop now. Enjoy!

My heart was beating out of my chest. The temperature had dropped almost 30 degrees from the afternoon and I couldn't stop shuddering despite wearing layers upon layers upon layers. Kneeling on the rough concrete felt foreign. I never knelt in front of someone before, but being in Japan, and given my outlandish request. . . well, I guess it felt right.

Even though I stared at the ground gathering my courage, his gaze was tangible, full of tense anticipation for my request.

A person might wonder, 'Persephone, why are you on your knees if front of a man on a rooftop in the middle of the night?'

I have a very good explanation.

And it's a wholesome one at that. . . I swear.

You see, after having an epiphany following my intense flashback, I became hyper focused on what it would take to become a pro hero.

Sure. I'd have boring things to take care of like making sure all my documentation was in order and legitimate. There was my time on the streets to worry about too, but its not like that was my darkest secret and no one could find out. I did what I had to do to survive, and it's not like I did anything THAT illegal. . .

But then there was my age. It wasn't like I could go to a high school and enroll next fall just to complete the hero course. There had to be a different way.

So after 2 matcha lattes and a few hours of searching on the internet, I found it. I had found my answer.

It was just about 10 at night and cold enough to freeze my tits off but by God I was gonna find this guy. I had too.

I rode into the city on my freshly mended bike, past the boba shop, past the coffee shop, and towards the downtown area. Most of everything was shutting down already, but the Christmas lights and decorations throughout the streets made it feel earlier than it was.

Circling around block after block, scrutinizing every person I saw, I finally found something useful, or rather someone. That obnoxious woman. The pro who came by the café with Eraserhead. What was her name again?

"Ms. Joke!" My voice scratched through the quiet evening, pulling her from a conversation she was having with another hero.

My bike screeched to a halt. She turned around, clearly concerned. "Do I know you-?"

"Hi! No. Not really. You see, I'm… friends with Eraserhead, Aizawa Shouta. I really need to see him as soon as possible. It's very urgent that I speak with him. He said he'd be on patrol tonight but I. . . well I, haven't been able to reach him."

Words were coming out faster than my breathing could handle in the frigid air, making me sound like a breathless toddler trying to tell a story. I was surprised she understood me.

"Oh! Eraser? Hmmm. He is working tonight. But I don't know where he's at right now. We aren't in the same agency or else I'd know exactly where he is. Sorry little miss! I wish I could help!"

The person standing next to her chimed in. "He might be over near — street. We've had a hard time with some criminals in that area. But please be careful if you go there!"

I bowed aggressively and awkwardly on my bike several times. "Thank you! Thank you so much!"

They waved me off with concerned smiles.

Peddling as fast as I could, I tried to ignore the frosty wind hitting my face, making my nose and ears go numb. But I had to find him. I couldn't wait.

Any normal person would have gotten up in the morning, had a cup of coffee, maybe dressed professionally, and casually gone around to the local hero agencies to inquire of him. But not me. Not this unmedicated mentally ill person.

I came across the area where that pro said Eraserhead might be, and questioned any security guards or other pros I saw. None of them were very helpful, especially once a few of them saw that I was a foreigner. I guess it was the same anywhere else though, so I tried to let it go.

For the 23rd time, I stopped to inquire. It was a bustling hotel, full of valets and other employees, rushing to get people and their luggage inside and out of the cold. Trying to find someone who wasn't crazy busy was difficult, but in they end I was able to approach a young guy taking a breather at his podium.

I anxiously gripped my handles. "Hey! I'm sorry to bother you, I-."

"If you are checking in I need the name the reservation was placed under," he interrupted tiredly.

"Oh! Sorry! I'm not checking in," I explained frantically, waving my hands. "I just had a question. I'm looking for the pro hero Eraserhead? Long black hair, yellow goggles, grey scarf. It's urgent that I speak to him, but I haven't been able to get a hold of him."

The kid yawned and nodded. "Yeah. I remember him. He came by not too long ago and wanted to use our roof. Apparently it has the best vantage point in the city."

My eyes widened. I practically leapt off my bike and shoved it toward the valet. "Oh my god, thank you! Thank you! This is fantastic!"

I hurried into the hotel barely paying attention when he called out after me. "Hey! I don't think you'll be allowed to get on the roof though!"

"Maybe," I yelled back from the doors, "I'll figure it out!"

Pfft. I was getting on that roof no matter what.

The hotel was very swanky, definitely meant for someone NOT in my tax bracket and there I was, in a patchy woolen sweater, a fox eared beanie and sweats, flaunting my peasantly status.

Chandeliers reflected brightly in the polished patterned floors. People sat in thick coats and fuzzy jackets, chit chatting and sipping off of hot drinks or cocktails. Christmas music echoed and bounced from off the high ceilings. Unfortunately, like all holiday music, it cemented itself into my head so all could hear in my thoughts for the next week was the ancient and everlasting voice of Mariah Carey.

I entered the gilded, mirrored elevator and rode it all the way to the top floor. One picked lock and a maintenance hallway later I was there.

The wind was so much powerful up on the roof and it amazed me when I saw him, just crouched along the edge, looking at the city below through his slotted glasses. Wasn't he freezing?! I took a deep breath and timidly called out to him.

He turned slowly and paused. His face was too far to see clearly, but I could only imagine the look he was giving me. "Percy-San? What are you doing here?" His voice was steady but cautious.

"I know," I began loudly so my words could carry over the wind, "that this really weird and that we don't know each other very well, but I. . . I had to find you tonight. I needed to talk to you, and get your answer."

And now we are caught up to the present situation: me, kneeling in front of a man that barely knows me, on a roof, out of breath, just as the first snowfall of winter began.

"I'm not really sure how to start, but I do know that haven't felt this certain, this… passionate, about something since I was little. Since before my parents died, before I lost my family and had to leave my home . . . Before I lost myself."

Tears welled up in my eyes. My throat tightened as my heart tried to spill out. My plea became more desperate. My voice shuddered in the wind. "I've wanted to give up so many times. I was never convinced that my life was worth living. When I was on the streets, my only goal was to make it to the next day, but now, even though I have a home, and a job, and, I guess, a relatively normal life, my mindset hasn't changed. . . I have had no goals, no aspirations to spur me on-,I'm still just concerned about is making it to the next day, b-but then you came along. You made me realize that I used to have something I wanted to live for. You helped me to remember my dream. The same dream I've had since I was 5."

I exhaled and laughed nervously, still unable to make eye contact. "I still want to be a hero! I want it more than anything! Because if I can fight for other peoples lives, maybe I can start fighting for my own!" I dug my nails into my knees. "So please, Eraserhead," I practically shouted, "please teach me! Teach me, how to be a pro like you- It has to be you! Help me get back some of the life that was stolen from me."

Slowly raising my head I met his gaze. It was definitely one of uncertainty. I mean, the man was being accosted in the night by an emotional teenager.

He wasn't saying anything, so I continued. "I don't have a lot to offer except my dedication and the occasional boba tea," I said with another nervous laugh, quickly wiping the tears in my eyes, "but I promise I wont make you regret training me. I wont be a burden. I don't need to be number one . . . I just want to become someone who can save others. Like how you saved me."

My body was shaking from anxiety and adrenaline. The cold was irrelevant at this point. I let out a shaky breath and looked back down.

Was I being stupid? Was this a stupid idea? I mean, I got this far but what if he says no?

Well . . . I guess I could just jump off the roof if the cringe doesn't kill me first.

The air was thick and snow flurries started to filter through the night. A storm was coming.

No doubt, the 46 seconds it took for him to respond felt like an eternity, but he did. Eraserhead took a few steps forward and squatted in front of me. It took a lot of nerve to look at him.

Oh god he's gonna say I'm pathetic and that I'm a waste of his time. Maybe lightning will strike me down and put me out of my misery.

"Fine. Ill do it."

I took in a shaky breath. Tears started to fall.

Welp. I tried my best. And it was all a waste.

I started to stand up. "Okay well thanks anyways- WAIT, WHAT?!" My hand slipped and I looked up with wide eyes.

He seemed calm and calculating, but his words were warm. "I said I'll train you. It took a lot of guts to come here- I don't even know how you found me,! But I admire that. Of course," he mused, tilting his head, "words alone don't prove anything." He stood and dusted the snow piling up on his scarf. "If I feel that you're wasting my time, I'll stop. But I can see that you have potential. You have the drive. I can't guarantee that you can make it as a hero, but, I'll do my best to give you the tools you need to become one. Fair?"

I nodded, unable to speak.

And then I cried.

My heart was bursting with happiness and relief. My life was finally turning around. I was on a path now and it was up to me to reach my destination. I wasn't drowning. I could see from the watery deep a lifesaver being tossed overhead, just the shadow of it.

And it was real.

After that whole encounter, I felt like a huge weight had been lifted off my chest. Aizawa was so kind about the entire thing, in his own way. He didn't make fun of me or tell me it was a dumb dream, but was straightforward and didn't give me false expectations.

I got home around 1, buzzing with excitement, even laying out my clothes so I wouldn't be late meeting up with him at 8 the next morning. We were going to discuss how this relationship would work out, ground rules, schedules and all that stuff. He was also going to give me a copy of the textbook that students work through at the local hero school, UA, which happened to be his alma mater.

Around 6 I called out from my shift at the coffee shop, saying I had a family emergency. My manager gave me a huge guilt trip, but he might as well have been talking to a wall. They could figure out how to run that crummy business without me.

I was out of the house by 7 and went to a different local coffee shop for a breakfast pastry and drinks for the both of us. Holding the large warm lattes in the 26° weather made me forget about getting only 4 hours of sleep.

I set the coffees down next to me on a bench and waited for him since I was 10 minutes early. Not a second after 8, I saw his dark figure emerge around the corner, still sleepy eyed and looking like he just crawled outta bed. I stood and waved enthusiastically. When caught sight of me, he groaned.

He got closer and I could clearly see his grimace. "Why do you look so... peppy this morning," he sighed. "I can't imagine you got a lot of sleep."

"Morning せんせい," I greeted with a bow. "Yeah, I didn't, and honestly, I'm not a morning person but I was too excited to meet up this morning, so it's fine. But, like, don't get used to this. Also", I continued, reaching down for his coffee and handing it to him, "I got you a coffee on the way over here! I hope you like lattes. The place I got it at is well know for their foam art. It's also oat milk 'cuz I didn't know if you drank regular milk." I convinced him to take a peak inside.

"Um thank you. I don't necessarily like milk in coffee but I -" He stopped mid sentence and stared into the cup.

"Isn't it cute?! She did a cat in mine too."

I sipped my coffee and watched him squint at the foam creature then put the lid back on. "Thank you," he mumbled as he took a sip of the steaming latte.

He paused for a moment after taking another sip and then blinked a few times. "Please don't feel obligated to get me coffee all the time," he said quickly, almost stammering. "I know you work hard for your money so don't feel like I'm expecting it. Besides, I normally just grab coffee from a place I know in the morning."

I couldn't stop grinning, especially after seeing how much he liked it. "Of course. I figured it would be nice just this once and as a little thank you. It's not much but it's what I can do. "

He nodded and pulled out a thumb drive from his belt and handed it to me. "Now, your lucky he wasn't busy, but a colleague of mine had the hero course books and forwarded them to me last night. It was a pretty big file so I just put it on here for you."

"Wow! Thank you! I really appreciate it!"

"Crap. I just realized they are in Japanese. Is that going to be a problem," he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Nah. I'm fluent. I actually have a few students that I tutor in Japanese and I'm also fluent in 10 other languages!"

Eraserhead looked to the side awkwardly and continued. "Well then. Let's get started. We should talk about your quirk."

Ugh. Stop showing off! He doesn't care how many languages you know!

I scolded myself mentally. The word vomit was just going to keep spilling out and I couldn't do anything to stop it. Surely it was punishment for being a hermit these past few years.

We both sat down and he took out a pen and notebook. The bench was near a walking path and even though the park near by was covered in snow, it was still full of people. Men and women starting and finishing their morning workouts, others rushing off to work, and even the local pro hero or two passed by, preparing for the day ahead.

"So" I started. "My quirk. I'm just gonna give you the entire rundown even though you have a vague idea of what it is."

He sat forward and listened intently, pen in hand.

"My quirk is called Advanced Recall. I can remember anything I read, hear or see. I can also copy physical movements, and these memories don't fade. It's like I have this giant library in my head and if I want to recall that memory, I have to go look it up. Most of the time it's instant, but it can take up to 20 seconds to look something up if it's a memory I haven't accessed in a long time. When I use my quirk, my eyes glow for some reason? Not sure why, but they just do. As far as mimicking actions and stuff, I can watch, let's say, an Olympic athlete and copy them with out a problem, but if I'm really out of shape, I immediately get fatigued and can injure myself." I was about to continue the lowdown on my quirk but I hesitated.

The newer function, the one that I hadn't used since the day I ran away.

He noticed. "Is there something else I should know?"

"Well. . .before I, um, ended up on the streets, I triggered something new. It's not a pleasant memory so I never practiced it. I don't think I can read minds necessarily, but I can see memories."

"How? Do you have to make physical contact?

"I think so, but it's only happened once . . ." I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. "It was a long time ago and to be honest, the memory I accessed was one that . . . I guess what I'm trying to say is that I never tried after that." I looked up again and smiled, trying to push my feelings back. "I'd definitely be willing to work on it though. Oh! And I do know that it immobilizes me and the person I touch from that one incident."

Eraserhead made a few more notes and looked up, deep in thought, staring off into the park. I anxiously anticipated his reply, fidgeting with a keychain from my purse.

"So your dad was a hero," he started, returning to his notes, "And you started the hero course in America but never finished? Why is that?"

"Well, that was the plan. You see, because of my quirk, I'm...a prodigy you could say." My cheeks became so hot and I couldn't make eye contact, only able to look at my fidgeting fingers. "I started going to school at the age of 3. My mom had the same quirk and was a world renowned mathematician and engineer and wanted me to pursue a similar career. But despite the amount of classes and degrees I got at University, I only ever wanted to be a pro alongside my dad. They eventually agreed to let me start a hero course in the fall when I was 14, but I never started."

My tale of woe. It was nerve racking telling someone the whole truth. And speaking everything out loud was weird, almost like it was someone else's story and not mine. I was detached, but maybe that was better.

Eraserhead calmly listened to all I had to say and nodded. "So. Your quirk has a lot of facets. How did you plan on using it for heroing?"

My mood immediately shifted and my hands went crazy. "Im glad you asked. I've given this a lot of thought and I think I want to be a weapons and martial arts expert. Anything and everything. I have the capacity for it and even if I have support items, I can still hold my own. Like Nightwing! Or Black Widow!"

He scratched his head. "Okay. That makes sense." He closed up the notebook and put it back in his belt. "I'll fix up a training schedule that shadows mine. It won't be fun, but it will get you ready for the provisional licensing test here in Japan. Once I see where your abilities are at now, we can figure out a time line. Are you listening?" He met my eyes with a cold stare.

I jumped realizing I was staring at a pedestrian doing a weird dance like exercise. "Yes! I'm sorry. I am listening! It's hard for me to focus sometimes. I also don't talk to many people," I said quickly with a nervous smile.

"Sure. Right. Anyways, we will test your quirk and push it to the limit. See what you're fully capable of. Give me your work schedule and we can start, what is this, Thursday? We can start Monday. Also. I've been meaning to ask you child prodigy: how old are you?" His voice was tired and stern as he spoke. It didn't make me ancy, but made me more intrigued as to why he was like this. Like, I had a small amount of social skills, but this dude had none. I shook my head from my thoughts and answered.

"18, せんせい" I said with a salute. "What about you," I pointedly asked, leaning closer. "Japanese people always look so young no matter what their age is. Your not like 50 are you?"

He sighed and blinked slowly "I'm 23. I've been heroing for 6 years now." He looked to the side and mumbled something about a mic. "And a word of caution" he stated matter of factly. "I don't have time for your teenage angst. I have a job to do. I don't HAVE to do this. So if I feel like your slacking or it's not going to work out for any reason I'll drop you. And even though I'm your mentor, don't call me sensei. Call me Eraserhead."

I smirked. "I told you I'd give you my all didn't I? I've been on my own for a while now, so I definitely don't have time for teenage angst either. I don't plan on giving up so easily so buckle up old man."

He raised his eyebrow as if to retort but I continued. "I respect you Eraserhead, and I feel like you truly care not just about your integrity as a hero, but about people as well. I've seen it. That's why I asked you, so it's gonna take a lot more than a little tough love and exercise to get rid of me." I stood and bowed fervently. "You won't regret training me! I'll make you proud!"

He studied me for a moment and stood. Then, he did something quite unexpected.

He smiled.

"I guess we'll find out. "

~Authors Note~

Name: Dr. Ophelia Anne Sørensen-Guerrera (deceased)

Relation to Persephone: Mother

Age (at death): 39

Quirk: Recall- Can remember everything taken in by the five senses. She can not perfectly replicate physical movements like her daughter though.

About: From Norway. Very stubborn and hot tempered. Famous engineer and support item developer. Loves Spicy foods.

Dislikes: Tardiness

Thanks for reading chapter 4! I do have a plan for this arc so I want to say I'll have the next one out in the coming week, but you know, life. Ehehe. Please follow and favourite my little story so you are notified when my ADHD grants me permission to post. TTFN!