Hana…Hana, sweety, wake up."
"Five more minutes," I mumbled tiredly, pulling one of my extra pillows tighter to my chest.
One exasperated sigh was all the warning I had before my blanket was forcefully pulled off of me. "Either you get up now, or you miss the first day at UA. Honestly, one of the things you get from your dad just had to be his sleeping habits, didn't it." My mom complained as she folded the blanket before placing it at the foot of my bed.
It took my brain a moment to catch up as I blinked blearily up at her, but when it did, I went full panic mode. "Oh my god, that's today?!" I scrambled out of bed and rushed down the hall to the bathroom, my wonderful mom chuckling at my state.
"I actually woke you up a little early," She called down the hall. I stuck my head out of the bathroom and sent her a weak glare to which she simply smiled and shrugged. "I didn't think you would get up so quickly the first try." Mom smiled then made her way back towards the living room.
Honestly... she had the right idea by waking me early. As she said, I was pretty similar to my dad with how hard I could sleep. A quick shower, and one uncomfortable school uniform later, I walked into the kitchen to be greeted with breakfast already set out for me. My mouth started watering at the contents of my plate.
I quickly hugged mom before seating myself. "Sweet! Thanks for the chocolate chip waffles, mom!"
She smiled warmly at me as I dug in. "Well, today is an important day, so I thought a little spoiling was necessary. Now, I know you are still doing good on time, but you have to remember to leave with enough time to not be late. Wouldn't want to make a bad impression on your first day."
Wiping a bit of syrup from the corner of my mouth with the back of my hand, I smiled slightly at her, which made mom groan before wiping both my hand and mouth off with the wet corner of a dish towel, making me blush and swat away her hands.
"Hana, please," She sighed yet again, shaking her head. I simply grinned at her mischievously. Messing with my mom was likely one of my favorite pass times. She tended to want me to behave like a typical girl, but I couldn't help but be the awkward, tired, ray of sunshine that I am.
A few minutes later, I was gathering my backpack, phone, and headphones before grabbing my shoes at the door. "I'm headed out now. Wish me luck!" I called over my shoulder.
"You'll do great! Show them what a great hero looks like!" Mom proudly replied from the kitchen.
I chuckled before closing the front door behind me, taking a moment to breathe and calm my nerves, before I started my first steps towards becoming a great hero like my dad. He may not be on the news much, but he still does an amazing job. Heroes don't have to have fame and glory, though it might be nice to get recognition here and there, which is why I wish he did get a bit more time in the spotlight. Me on the other hand, well…I'm not sure if I would want to be in the limelight either, honestly. I just wanted to be able to help people. Managing my quirk to do that, however, would be the interesting part, which is why I was determined to attend UA. They had the best staff to teach future heroes.
My walk to school wasn't a long one, thankfully, but it definitely took some time. As I reached the school I slowed down to take in my surroundings, it really was a beautiful campus. Taking another deep breath, I walked through the doors that hopefully would hold a wonderful education, as well as some amazing memories for me to look back on in the future.
I quickly made my way through the halls, looking down at my paperwork that showed my class number, only to run into someone causing us both to fall.
"I'm so sorry, that was my fault," I exclaimed fumbling with my papers that had scattered.
"Oh, it's ok! Just an accident, am I right?" I looked over to see a girl my age, with short brown hair.
Rushing to my feet, I offered up a gloved hand to her to help her up. "I'm Hana Aizawa, nice to meet you." We both smiled at each other as she pulled herself to standing.
"Ochako Uraraka, nice to meet you, too! I'm in class 1A, what about you?"
The two of us started walking down the hall, both looking for the classroom. "Same!" I gasped excitedly. "Oh, it's nice to semi-know at least one person before getting to class – Ah! Look there it is!"
Uraraka's gaze followed mine, smiling even wider if that were possible. "Looks like someone else just got here, too."
As we made it into the ridiculously tall doorway, Uraraka gasped, "Ah! That messy hair! It's the plain-looking boy!" I gaped at her unintentional insult as said messy-haired teen looked awkward and embarrassed.
"You got in! Just like Present Mic said! Makes sense though, that punch was awesome!" As Uraraka continued to gush about the teen with the messy green hair, I happened to notice another guy from the class glaring daggers at the other boy, and I couldn't help but lift a brow in confusion. I guess they knew each other somehow. That must be an interesting history to get that kind of glare. I didn't give it much more thought, though, as I discretely moved past the two chatting by the door, and made my way to my seat, which ended up being directly in front of the angry guy. Sighing as I slid into my seat, I glanced up to the front of the room just in time to hear a voice break through Uraraka's bubbly chatting.
"If you're here to socialize, then get out. This is the Hero Course"
A curse slipped from my lips before I sank down in my seat, trying to be as invisible as possible as a random yellow sleeping bag 'stood' from the floor only unzip and reveal our teacher. His tired eyes seemed to look right through the two students he was addressing.
"It took eight seconds for you to quiet down." He paused then looked out across the now silent classroom with a bored expression. "Time is a precious resource. You lot aren't very rational, are you?" Again he paused, this time I had happened to glance up at my new teacher only to make direct eye contact, my face burning from embarrassment. The teacher sighed deeply then moved towards his desk, the sleeping bag still in his hand. Digging in something behind the desk, he started talking again, "I'm your homeroom teacher, Shota Aizawa. Pleased to meet you. Now, you will quickly change into your gym clothes and head out to the grounds." As he straightened up, he also lifted what was apparently one of our gym uniforms for the class to see.
The class suddenly broke loose with chatter as everyone made their way to the front, grabbing their gym uniform as they passed the desk. I however tried to be the quickest I could, getting behind a boy with spikey red hair, then snatched up my uniform before bolting out the door for the changing rooms.
.
.
The girls were all so talkative and friendly that by the time I left the changing room with Uraraka, I had basically already made friends with the entire group of females. Honestly, though a little overwhelming, it was a nice change of pace. We joined the boys over by the track shortly after, waiting for further instructions.
Mr. Aizawa slowly gazed over at the teens in front of himself. "Today, you will be testing your ability alongside your quirks."
This gained a few gasps before Uraraka burst in with a question about the orientation, to which he responded "No time to waste on that stuff if you want to become heroes. U.A. is known for having a freestyle education system. That applies to us teachers as well. You all remember the standard No-Quirks-Allowed gym tests?" He took half a second to pause before his eyes shot to the ash-blonde, angry kid. "Bakugo, how far could you throw in middle school?
The Bakugo kid looked to their teacher so determined that it was admirable as well as intimidating. "67 meters."
"Great, now I want you to try it with your quirk. Do whatever you need to, just don't leave the circle." Mr. Aizawa stated while holding a small tablet device. "Give it all you've got."
Bakugo smirked, saying "Awesome" under his breath as he walked over to the circle Aizawa mentioned, stretching out his arms. Once he was in position, he took a slow but deep breath in before absolutely launching the ball into the sky, shouting "DIE!" at the top of his lungs.
My head automatically jerked backward slightly, tilting to the side while wondering what the hell could be wrong with this guy. He seemed so needlessly frustrated at everything, though his quirk looked really strong. Suddenly, I felt the need to show my own smirk, and I knew exactly what I was going to do for my softball toss.
"It is important for us to know our limits." Mr. Aizawa held up the tablet so we could all see the screen which displayed 705.2 meters. "That is the first rational step to figuring out what kind of heroes you'll be."
Some of the students around me exclaimed happily about how fun and awesome this would be, to which Mr. Aizawa responded with, "You're hoping to become heroes after three years here, and you think it'll be all fun and games? Alright then, last place will be expelled. Your fate is in your hands. Welcome, this is The Hero Coarse at U.A. High." He added dramatically.
Again, there was an outburst from some of my classmates about the fairness of expulsion, but knowing Mr. Aizawa like I do, I honestly wouldn't put it past him. He, of course, responded along the lines of 'Well, life isn't fair'.
"If you were planning to spend your evenings hanging out at McDonald's, and looking for your soulmates, I'm so sorry to tell you that for the next three years, U.A. will run you through the wringer." He paused yet again, smiling creepily. "That's Plus Ultra. Use your strength to overcome it all. So bring it."
The first task was a 50-meter dash, and I really didn't feel like using my quirk just yet. Once it got to my turn, I simply ran to the best of my physical ability, which wasn't exceptional, but definitely was not the worst of the class. A good amount of the other teens had used their quirks in the dash, and I observed them, soaking in the information for later.
Next was grip strength, and not many were able to use their quirks to their advantage with this task. The one that was able to fully take advantage of it was a boy that had what looked like six webbed arms. I was curious as to what exactly his quirk was, if it was something more than multiple arms then that was pretty cool.
Third was standing long jump, which I discretely bumped into Uraraka's arm, apologizing, before brushing my fingers across my shoes and clothes. My jump was again not the best, but it was better than normal. I grinned before tapping my fingertips together in front of my chin, happy with my result.
When we moved on to side-stepping, I again chose to not use my quirk. Next came the actual softball throw. After seeing Uraraka's score of infinity, I was a bit torn on my choice of action with this task, yet still decided it was worth a shot to follow through with my original plan.
Midoriya stepped up to the circle looking petrified. As he did this, I overheard Uraraka talking to a tall boy with glasses that stood next to her. The guy quietly makes his slight worries clear, "Midoriya isn't doing very well."
A new voice joins the conversation, rudely snarling, "Well, duh. He's a quirkless runt!"
My eyes widen, looking around Uraraka to curiously take in what was being said. Was there really a quirkless person in this class? How would that work?
The boy in glasses looked at Bakugo incredulously. "Quirkless?! So you haven't heard about his feats during the entrance exams?!"
The blonde's response was so eloquently, "Huh?!"
Everyone's attention was brought back to the circle as we heard the softball patter across the dirt.
"I erased your quirk," Mr. Aizawa informed the frantic, messy-haired teen before approaching him to speak more privately, his hair and capture weapon flowing in an invisible breeze.
A few murmurs of recognition were heard after Midoriya's outburst of excitement over Eraserhead: "I think I've heard of him." "Oh, well I don't think I've ever heard of him." I was used to all of them by now.
After a few moments, Aizawa left Midoriya alone in the circle again. My brows scrunched together in concern, the poor guy somehow looked defeated yet determined at the same time.
The teen with glasses looked on thoughtfully. "Seems like he received some special instructions."
Bakugo scoffed, "Yeah, the instruction to leave this school."
I huffed in frustration at the blatant insults but didn't say anything. Everyone waited eagerly, hoping to see the amazing quirk that Glasses kept bringing up. We didn't have to wait long, though, as Midoriya blasted the softball into the sky, sending a powerful gust of wind back at us viewers, our mouths all hanging open in shock. Mr. Aizawa stood silently for a second before barely chuckling, then showed us Midoriya's distance of 705.3 meters.
"I can still move," Midoriya stated seemingly randomly, sounding proud yet in pain. Our classmates mostly cheered for him excitedly, Bakugo on the other hand, seemed to absolutely lose it.
"What the hell?! Explain yourself, Deku!" he shouted as he blasted himself across the training field at Midoriya, only to get caught up in Aizawa's capture weapon. Our teacher lectured him about using his quirk and giving him dry eyes from erasing quirks so often.
As Bakugo stomped back to the audience of our class, I stepped in front of him and reached a gloveless hand up to wipe at a dirt smear on his cheek, despite the fact that he was obviously seething.
He froze, his crimson eyes drifting down to meet my vibrant purple ones. "The fuck are you doing?" he growled at me.
Though I normally would have had the urge to avoid a look like that, for some reason I felt compelled to be kind yet slightly annoying to this hot-headed teen. I simply grinned at him cheekily. "Ah, you had a little dirt there, but I got it for ya!"
"Aizawa." I flinched, leaning to the side to gaze around Bakugo at our teacher while the other class members looked confused. "Would you get into the circle now?"
"Oh! Yeah, sorry, sir!" I chirped, strolling to the circle as told. The look he gave me was one of discrete exasperation and a tiny bit of encouragement. He handed me the softball, and I felt it slide slightly in my hands. I looked at it confused for a second before it clicked. "So that's how it works," I muttered, tensing the muscles in my arm and hand then feeling a rush of energy and heat travel down from my shoulder, expanding at my elbow as my arm drew back ready for a throw. As I felt the energy and heat rush out from my wrist and into my palm, I whipped my arm forward, releasing the ball in a massive blast.
Again the class was speechless for a moment, eyes traveling from me to Bakugo.
A teen with spikey, red hair said exactly what everyone else was thinking. "That was just like Bakugo's quirk."
Said ash-blonde was looking almost the same amount of shocked that he was about Midoriya having a quirk.
"Your throw was 650.5 meters," Mr. Aizawa announced tiredly, "Now let's move on and get this over with."
.
.
The rest of the tasks were rather uneventful other than Midoriya being in constant pain, and me feeling eyes on me the entire time.
When we made it back to the classroom, I was bombarded with questions about my throw. I couldn't help but feel nervous due to feeling furious crimson eyes boring a hole into my head from across the room.
"Ah, well, that's pretty easy to explain, actually," I smiled sheepishly. "I have a copy quirk. I can copy people's quirks if I touch them. I've been able to copy two at a time a couple of times, but it gives me a massive case of disorientation and nausea. I have to avoid skin contact normally, so I don't accidentally gather too much at once. That's why I wear the gloves and a really thin bodysuit." I pulled at the ridiculously thin, yet sturdy material covering my arms to show them it was in fact there. "I can't copy quirks for very long yet, though. I think my max is like five minutes."
"That's so cool!" a pink-haired girl cheered while grabbing onto my hands.
A few others agreed with her, and a few other questions about my quirk came up yet were interrupted by a growling voice.
"So you cheat."
I scoffed indignantly. "I do not. I have to figure out how to use different quirks every time that I copy them. Learning to control my own quirk is hard, but learning how to control others is even more difficult. I also tend to have more backlash than you would from using other quirks because I'm not made for them. In fact, my arm is still burning on the inside from your quirk, though it was an amazing rush feeling the energy transfer."
Bakugo looked taken aback for a split second before his glare formed again. "Well, don't fucking steal my quirk again, you fucking extra." He then stomped out of the class.
Uraraka and I shared a look. "What is his problem?" I asked only to be given a shrug in response. Shortly after, I was gathering up my things when the question I had been expecting was finally asked.
A frog girl let out a ribbit before speaking, "Hey, didn't Mr. Aizawa say you were Aizawa also?"
The others paused in their packing, looking back up to me. "Yeah, what was that about?" the girl with pink hair questioned.
My gloved hand slid against the back of my neck in embarrassment. "Oh yeah, well…Mr. Aizawa is my dad."
Multiple exclamations of "What?!" met my admission.
"But don't worry!" I held my hands up in defense. "He definitely won't give me any special treatment, actually he'll probably be tougher on me than you guys."
"This has turned into a crazy first day!" Uraraka laughed.
I finally managed to gather the courage to ask the rest of the teens left in the class about their names, glad to finally be able to not call them descriptive nicknames like Glasses or Pink hair.
I told Uraraka goodbye as she ran off to an exhausted-looking Midoriya, and Iida - Uraraka had told me his name, thankfully.
My trip back home seemed slower than the trip in was, and I was more than ready to just sink into my comfy bed again.
"I'm home!" I called out after closing the front door.
Mom stuck her head out of the kitchen, giving me a blinding smile. "Welcome back! How was your first day?"
I took my shoes off then tiredly trudged over to join her. "Well, I made some friends, borrowed two quirks – at separate times – which was really cool cause they felt really weird to use. My classes were…classes," I chuckled, before nonchalantly adding. "Oh and dad is my homeroom teacher."
My mom nearly dropped the mug she held in her hands. "Your father is?! Well… at least you know how to behave around him, and how he reacts to things. You know, I think this is the best outcome you could have had!"
I looked at her shocked. "Mom, he's going to be so tough on me so that he doesn't get accused of playing favorites."
"Exactly!" she grinned at me. "I think that you'll be able to learn so much more from him because of how much you two understand each other."
Thinking about it that way, it kind of made sense. "Huh… I guess so."
Mom suddenly gained a smirk instead of a grin which made me suddenly feel like I should likely run for my room. "So…anything else happen today? Meet anyone…special?"
For a moment, I was completely lost, and she could tell. Rolling her eyes, mom pulled the glove off of my left hand and held it up to inspect it.
"Oh, I completely forgot to even bother looking at the marks." I laughed, not really caring if the thin bands on my ring finger had changed color. When the world gained quirks, people also started having these strange grey bands appear on everyone's left-hand ring finger. Typically, people only had one band show up for their one soulmate. There have been rare occurrences of people having two bands, and even rarer times where they would have three, never more than that, though. I couldn't even wrap my head around the idea of having to worry about my own emotions much less another or even three. Guess what, though? I got to be one of those freaking oddball people. My mom was absolutely giddy when I was born with a thick band around my finger, but when I was around four and the band split itself into three, she was absolutely beside herself with excitement. My dad on the other hand wasn't excited at all with his only child having to deal with that situation. Overprotective dad was an understatement in this situation.
A sudden squeal broke me out of my thinking. I jumped hard and gasped, "What happened?"
"Hana look!" My mom basically squeaked holding my hand up in front of my face.
"Oh," I couldn't possibly be this…lucky? Well, lucky was iffy. It depended on the situation, really.
"Two bands in one day!" Mom suddenly hugged my hand to her cheek, my quirk automatically reacting.
"Oh no," My body suddenly morphed into the one in front of me as I groaned, "Mom!"
She wobbled slightly, leaning against the countertop after dropping my hand. "Sorry, sweetie, you know I forget sometimes. I just wish it didn't take so much out of me."
"You did it again?" A voice sighed from the doorway.
Mom and I looked to see my tired father slowly looking between the two of us. Thankfully, I happened to change back to myself shortly after, but now I was even more tired than I was when I arrived home.
"Shota, Hana had two bands get some of their colors today!" Mom chirped happily to dad, who looked less than pleased about this development.
"Fantastic," He groaned. "We can assume it was someone at the school since you spent most of the day there. At least I can keep an eye on them, now."
I rolled my eyes, putting my hands over my face in embarrassment. "Dad, honestly. I don't really care about the whole soulmate thing anyway." Grabbing an apple, I trudged past my crazy parents. "I just want to get better with my quirk, and nap. Don't worry about me."
Mom shot my dad a frustrated look to which he responded with a smirk and a quick kiss on her forehead.
After dinner, I went back to my room then gathered up a loose pair of pajama pants, and a random tank top along with undergarments before going to the bathroom to shower. As I set my things on the counter, I couldn't help but have my gaze drawn back to the two lightly-colored bands on my ring finger. The one closest to my hand had slightly more color to it than the middle one and was a strange orange-ish color. The one above that was very light at the moment, but still clearly a variation of red.
A deep sigh could only describe my current emotions in regards to these bands. Don't get me wrong, I was excited at the thought of having someone that understood me, and cared about me wholeheartedly other than my parents. My complaint was that I had three lines. I really only wanted one. Trying to become a hero was enough to stress out a sixteen-year-old, then add in having to figure out a relationship dynamic between four total people, that was maddening, which was made even more stressful by the fact that at least two of the people had come into close contact with me today. I stared at the third band that was still completely grey. Does that mean they're somewhere else? Will I meet them years from now? Are they even alive? At the last question that ran through my mind, I groaned and slid to the floor, my back resting against the wall. Not to mention, would the other two be decent people? They were obviously good enough to get into U.A., but were they scummy perverts like the little grape guy was in class? Would they be in my actual class? One likely is considering the brighter color. This is the stress I was talking about. All of the questions and wondering, trying to figure out if they would actually even want to be in a relationship with you or if they simply want to visit occasionally to keep the bond happy.
I smacked my cheeks a few times, then slowly stood. I can worry about that later, now I just need to get clean, then get some sleep. Tomorrow is when the real test of my patience starts: Will the soulmates find me, and what will they do?
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note: This story is going to eventually intertwine with two others, one more so than the other because the other has an OC that is older.
**edited**
*MHA does not belong to me at all. I just own OCs and stuff similar*
