uploads randomly after a year

doesn't elaborate

leaves

She would've loved to see the look on Todoroki's face after her declaration of surrender.

Alas, the flimsy towel Midnight had given her would not be quelling the blood leaking out of her nose anytime soon.

Megumi stood crouched, blinking away the stars in her vision and trying to regain her sense of reality. When was the last time she had felt so dizzy? At least the anemic fainting spells she had experienced once or twice as Colby had the courtesy to knock her down on the spot. As it was, her body was fighting the weakness threatening to take a hold of her limbs with every cell in its possession. Suffice to say, she felt like shit.

That didn't stop Present Mic's headache-inducing voice from stringing out words and sentences at less than acceptable volumes. "WHAT AN INCREDIBLE PERFORMANCE AND A PERFECT END TO THE ELIMINATION ROUNDS! THAT'S THE SPIRIT OF PLUS ULTRA!"

One of these days, she would have enough and sue him for noise pollution.

'I should go and do something about this bloody nose first. Why the fuck is there so much? It's not even close to stopping.' She stood up slowly, continuing to dab her nose with the towel which, at this point, only resulted in smearing the blood all over her face. Briefly dragging her tongue over her chapped upper lip only resulted in a mouthful of coppery liquid.

When the stadium screen panned from Todoroki's face to her's (amidst Present Mic's riveting commentary), she made sure to flash a victory sign to the camera before turning on her heel and walking out of sight.

Airashi raised her hand up high. Uraraka found herself leaning forward slightly, watching, waiting. The one move that would result in victory.

Her heartbeat was at her throat, eyes glued to the scene. Yet what followed the unbearable anticipation was nothing short of anticlimactic.

"I give."

It was as if she'd received a slap across the face, snapping her out of whatever daze she'd been in.

The brunette slumped back in her seat tiredly, the tension leaving her shoulders. She felt a strange sense of disappointment. She'd gotten so engrossed in watching the fight that she hadn't really thought about when or how it would end. Iida was commenting on the match from where he was seated next to Midoriya, arms folded and seemingly unbothered by how the fight had ended. Uraraka found herself tuning him out, instead staring at the arena board blankly and lost in thought.

She knew Deku had to be thinking the same thing since she had heard him stop his furious scribbling into his notebook a long while ago.

This match had not been a fluke. Whether Todoroki had used ice or fire, it would have ended the same.

Emitter quirks of the elemental kind were arguably one of the strongest types of quirk. They were practical and malleable, powerful against most other quirks due to their adjustable nature. Todoroki had both fire and ice at his disposal: it was as rare as it was incredibly powerful.

Todoroki had not been able to freeze the chains Airashi had created. How could he, when they were made of neither iron nor steel? The logical conclusion would be that fire wouldn't work against them either. He had never stopped to consider that maybe, Airashi's sudden switch to close combat had been on purpose. Why risk her limbs when they were the most vulnerable against his ice, as opposed to her chains?

He had fought recklessly and angrily. The worst possible way to fight an opponent whose strength didn't depend on how much of the surrounding area they could crush with a single attack. If Uraraka could explain it any other way, she'd say that it was like trying to punch quicksand, only to sink deeper into it. Airashi had made it abundantly clear with the aggressive usage of her quirk that she had little intention of being a "support" type hero.

"Airashi-san… is really sly," Deku muttered.

She couldn't help but agree.

Picking on the bandage on her cheek (courtesy of her fight against Bakugo), Uraraka thought back on the words of encouragement the blonde had expressed when the crowd had begun booing during her own match. Uraraka wasn't self-centered enough to think that Airashi had done it for her. No, it was obvious that the principle of the matter had vexed her much more; although not much as in previous generations, gender bias still tended to pop up here and there in heroics. Nevertheless, she'd been thankful.

But she also felt… strange. Airashi's match hadn't garnered such a reaction, despite it being much bloodier and more brutal in nature. Was it because the audience wouldn't dare to boo the flame hero Endeavor's prized son?

They didn't see a problem with telling Bakugo to get off the arena, but were fine with Airashi getting hurt since it wasn't an ordinary student initiating the beatdown?

Ire rose up within her.

A click of the tongue, followed by a grumble came from the other side of the seats. "What a fucking letdown. Shoulda known she'd pull that loser shit." The sheer abundance of looks and stares Bakugo garnered for that statement alone was impressive to say the least.

But what surprised her was that she couldn't argue against his callous remark, simply because he sounded just as unappeased by how the match had ended as she was.

The towel pressed to her nose had been thoroughly soaked in blood by the time Megumi made it through one of the arena exits. In fact, it had dribbled all the way down her arms and onto her shirt, also leaving a nice trail on the floor for the janitors to clean up later.

Who would have thought she had so much blood in her? Though, last time she checked it wasn't supposed to be leaking out of her.

Mildly annoyed, she realized that she would have to give up her current clothes to dry cleaning because the blood was sure to stain otherwise. Good thing she had a second PE uniform stored somewhere inside her closet. 'I look like I barely survived a murder… actually, that might not be too far from the truth. Todoroki packs a punch, that's for sure.'

She couldn't wait to shrug off her gym sweater and get some rest. Especially considering her muscles felt like jelly and the blood loss was kind of making her see double. She was also drenched in sweat and was in desperate need of a shower. The only things she had consumed the entire day were a bland toast for breakfast, the cookie Asui had offered her, and several boxes of tomato juice.

Safe to say she was absolutely spent and was in dire need of a nap.

Curious enough, the awful headache plaguing her for weeks had died down to a dull throb in her temple. Still there, but not quite as debilitatingly painful as before. Getting the shit kicked out of her seemed to have done wonders. Then again, she didn't quite know what to do with the persistent itchiness that had replaced the splitting pain.

Her fingertips surveyed the area of her head where it seemed to itch the most. 'Blood? I must've hit my head during the fight or something. But why's it itching?!' As bizarre as it was, she had neither the energy nor the motivation to think about it any further. She chalked it up to another one of her quirk's side effects.

Megumi could still hear the audience's rabid cheers outside, even as she turned around the corner. At least she could rest assured that she had successfully entertained the crowd. She'd been skeptical when Nejire-senpai had mentioned fun or whatever, but now that she had experienced it first-hand she could definitely see the appeal. There was just something inherently satisfying about the adrenaline and excitement that came with fighting in a friendly setting, without the threat of death looming at the forefront of her mind.

Well… as friendly as it could get. She hoped Todoroki enjoyed the black eye she had given him on the unburnt side of his face. (He had returned the favor though. Fuck, her eye hurt.)

For what it was worth, she had done it- survived her first-ever Sports Festival.

'I wonder how Nejire-senpai's fights went…' She resolved to watch the replay of the second-year stage's Sports Festival later on.

Megumi had entered Recovery Girl's office, only to immediately run to the sink in the corner and dry heave her guts all over it. God she felt like absolute crap. The stress of the day had finally caught up to her, and she could only vaguely nod along to Recovery Girl's gentle jabs and proddings at her injuries. Once she was all bandaged up, she blacked out the moment her head hit the pillow of the nursing care bed.

How ridiculous was it, that the best rest she had gotten in weeks was a 2-hour nap on the creaky hospital bed of a nurse's office, with a bunch of kids blowing each other up on the other side of the (surprisingly soundproof) walls?

She had faintly heard familiar voices at the doorway, alas the utter exhaustion had kept her from moving a single muscle. Recovery Girl had come back sometime during her rest to apply some sort of cream to her poor, aching scalp. Megumi could have kissed that blessed woman right then and there because boy did it work wonders on the discomfort she'd endured for such a painfully long time.

No itching, no headache, nothing- only blissful, painless heaven. How could she have forgotten the feeling of being a normal, healthy member of society?

She would have very much liked to liquefy and combine with the bedsheets below in an attempt to hold on to that sweet, seductive call of sleep. Alas, the nagging feeling that she should probably go back to 1-A's locker room and check her phone wouldn't let her rest easy. She remembered her mother taking her aside a few times after dinner (during which she continued to barely eat a thing), trying to convince her to let the chauffeur drive her to the Sports Festival- to make sure she came straight home afterward. And her answer to that had been a resounding no. What did this crazy woman want from her? She made no attempts to hide her creepy control-freak tendencies and Megumi found it absolutely terrifying.

Ever since then the chauffeur had been messaging her, inquiring her whereabouts, and letting her know he was on standby in case she needed a ride. Could she blame him? Not really. It was his job, and the workers at the manor had made it abundantly clear that they only responded to her mothers' orders. What was this, the 19th century? She had pretty much muted her notifications and booked it out of the house. And once the nerves had started catching up to her the closer she drew to the prep room, she had forgotten all about it. In any case, she had no intentions of going straight home while the Sports Festival was still ongoing. She was pretty sure she had woken just in time for the final fight.

'Does that mean I missed Mina's fight against Tokoyami? Oh man, I actually wanted to watch that…'

With a heavy heart, she dragged herself out of the bed, shooting Recovery Girl a thumbs up while leaving in the direction of the stairs.

The old woman had simply looked her up and down, not convinced by the pillow marks decorating her face. "What a troublesome batch of students this year."

She was a sight to behold. Bandaged all around, tissues up her nose, a bracer around her fractured left wrist, and a haircut that would most definitely have any professional hairdresser break down in tears. It seemed that Todoroki simply did not have a talent for the craft. She'd get it fixed later.

On her way to the locker room, she ran into the one guy who was barely above Todoroki or her mother on the list of people she would prefer not to partake in a social interaction with.

Megumi only caught a brief glimpse of his normal expression before Bakugo noticed her, his face twisting back to its usual surliness. He must have been trudging to his prep room before the final match, hands in his pockets and slouching as always. The perfect image of a rebellious teenager. She'd heard somewhere that the best course of action when facing a wild cat was to avoid eye contact.

Unfortunately for her, he didn't seem to be in the best of moods. "You should've done the quitting before the match if you were gonna end up doing it anyway. Would've saved us the time, lame-ass."

She physically held herself back from speeding up her stride. That'd only make it look like she was running away. However, his next words made her grind to a halt entirely.

"After acting all dramatic, you changed your mind or something? Didn't wanna get back at him after all? Who the hell gives up like that."

Megumi fixed her stare on him, abandoning her previous notion of avoiding eye contact. She wasn't offended, nor was she angry. It seemed her actions had caused some misunderstandings, and a straightforward question deserved a straightforward answer. Bakugo stood there, chin jutted forward and stance confrontational.

They had never really interacted previously to the Sports Festival, much less alone. But she wouldn't walk on eggshells with her words just to avoid pressing some of his (uselessly many) buttons.

"I didn't have a change of heart. I did exactly what I wanted to do. Do you really think it'd be anything to brag about if I defeated him when he's like that?" She scoffed derisively. "I'd rather not embarrass myself. Don't pretend you don't know exactly what I'm talking about." She made a motion with her hand as if to flip hair away from her shoulder, only to awkwardly retract it upon realizing that it'd been reduced to just above shoulder length.

That's right. There was no way Bakugo didn't understand- after all, it had been the very same reason he had despised his win at the Sports Festival in the original plot. His insecurities, feelings of inferiority and inadequacy in the face of adversaries as strong as (if not more powerful than) him; the feeling of not being deemed worthy enough for Todoroki to even use his fire when matched against him; the knowledge that he wasn't being respected nor feared as an opponent. All of that had completely enraged him. His ire had been further fueled by Todoroki's recognition of Midoriya, when Bakugo himself hadn't been granted the same courtesy.

She didn't want to end up like him. Megumi's feelings of being wronged and desire for vindication ran much deeper than what a half-assed win could ever ease.

Todoroki had to be at his absolute best when she crushed him. That's why she would wait for Midoriya to work his magic, rather than dive headfirst into an act of petty revenge which she wouldn't derive any satisfaction from.

Maybe "crushed" wasn't the right word- it sounded a bit too villainous. Defeat? Yeah, she'd go with that.

Besides, it was hardly crucial enough to occupy her plans for the future. There were many more pressing matters to prepare for- such as figuring out what she wanted to do with her life. And staying alive, considering she hadn't read anything past the Shie Hassaikai arc.

Megumi figured that Bakugo had nothing else to say, so she went back to her original course of action; seeking out the locker room. She also deliberately "forgot" to tell him that he was walking to the wrong prep room before she left. Who was she to interfere with main character shenanigans?

She cringed away at the sheer abundance of messages on her phone. Most of them were from the chauffeur, documenting his location every half an hour as if he'd been actively trying to will her to lose, just so he could drive her home sooner and be done with the day. A few were from Tsuyu, telling her to join them at the stands when she woke up. There were some from her mother, which she grimaced at and promptly ignored. Some pictures from Mina showcasing how the matches went.

Since he took his job so seriously, the chauffeur could wait for longer. Megumi deposited her bloody UA sweater into her bag, exchanging it for the regular school uniform she'd entered the premises with. Her nose was no longer a faucet of hemoglobin, so she was confident the white fabric of her shirt wouldn't get tainted. She hoped she could get seated without anyone teasing her for sleeping through the entirety of the semi-finals. Even now, she was tempted to lay down on any surface that looked the slightest bit comfortable and zonk out.

Perhaps her lethargy was to blame, but the moment someone roughly bumped into her on her way up the stairs, she barely had enough time to hold on to the railing for dear life.

It was Iida. He uncharacteristically fumbled with his words, a stark contrast to his usual formal speech. "Sorry. I'm in a hurry."

An apology of her own was at the tip of her tongue. Alas, at that moment, Megumi realized she had forgotten an important part of the story. Nay, dare she say the critical juncture.

How could she have forgotten the very arc that had glued her to this series in the first place?

Stain the Hero Killer was on the loose. She had never really identified with nor related to his ideology in any shape or form. Fake heroes or not, wasn't it better to have more of them around than none at all? As long as they had the intended effect of giving civilians the illusion of perfect safety and deterring acts of crime with their presence alone, Megumi didn't necessarily expect all of them to be as noble and modest as All Might appeared. After all, he was the ideal, the splendid image of what you should strive to be- by normal standards. One man's utopia could very well be another man's dystopia.

Ingenium had been an unfortunate victim of Stain's pursuits. Iida Tensei, the man who could technically be considered the heir if their family had been a regular rich household name instead of one that consisted of heroes.

… A family of heroes. The oldest sibling. Rich?

An imaginary lightbulb lit up right above her head.

Her hand whipped out to take a tight hold of Iida's arm before he could fire up his engines and race away, her injured hand already dialing a number on her phone. She tried not to let the eagerness show on her expression. Iida stared her down, looking conflicted on whether to be confused, irritated or hysteric.

Alas, the grip Megumi had on him was so tight that he hesitated to shrug it off. Her sharp nails were digging into him- for a brief moment, he was afraid his skin would come off if he attempted to snatch back his arm too fast.

Megumi motioned to the direction she came from with her phone still in hand. "Hey, listen…"

Mina sighed, eyes set on her phone. Tsuyu put her chin on her shoulder, peering at her messages. "What'd she say?"

"She says she already let reception know and wants us to catch her up on Aizawa-sensei's debriefing later on. Well, I guess it's okay, considering the situation…"

Ochako popped up on Mina's other side, eyebrows raised. "Oh? I'm glad Iida-kun's not going alone, he looked terrible after that phone call…"

Midoriya, from where he was suddenly situated in the seat above Mina and actively peeking on her screen, let out a troubled hum. "Maybe I should've offered to accompany him? I mean after all it's his brother we're talking about. And we're f-friends, it would've made sense for me to help out- he looked so pale after receiving the news, I hope he doesn't do anything rash, ohmygod why didn't I insist on coming along? I'm the worst, why am I here when I should be-"

He received a hard pat on the shoulder by Ochako in order to put a stop to his neurotic dialogue immediately. "Deku-kun, you're mumbling again. Iida-kun left as soon as he got the news, you couldn't have known."

Tsuyu nodded along imperceptibly, thinking back to when they had wanted to see Megumi after her match. She'd been dead asleep in Recovery Girl's office. The timing of her messages in reply to their texts indicated she had awoken only a couple of minutes ago. "Megumi-chan must've run into him by chance, kero. They'll be fine."

Mina pursed her lips, briefly glancing at the two figures standing in the middle of the stadium. The final match was just about to start. She scrutinized Todoroki's hollow stare and lax posture, even when loud taunts were being thrown his way. She grimaced. It didn't look like this fight was going to last long. "Maybe it's better this way."

In the end, students had been given two days to rest up after the festival.

After dropping Iida off at the hospital, Megumi had pretty much called it a day and gone home. What else was there to do? The Sports Festival had probably ended already. She had briefly entertained the thought of insisting she come along with Iida, but she doubted the nurses would let her in. Moreover, what need did they have for some stranger to awkwardly stand around in the corridor while they were having a family emergency? She would have other opportunities to talk to Tensei, especially after he recovered and she could muster up the gall to ask Iida when his older brother's schedule happened to be free.

Throughout the ride, the chauffeur had squinty-side-eyed her in a way you do when you think a child is acting suspiciously helpful but has not yet revealed what they want in return. She couldn't really blame him for being perplexed- she doubted the Original had ever done anything out of the goodness of her heart. Not that she herself went out of her way to grace the world with random acts of kindness without ulterior motives. The chauffeur didn't need to know that though.

Did she feel bad for essentially skipping the final fight, ending ceremony, and homeroom after the festival? No. She wasn't needed in any of those instances. The final fight would proceed as she remembered if all went well, and she'd get back to class on Thursday as if she and Todoroki hadn't beaten the shit out of each other days prior.

Come to think of it, her current seat at the back corner had originally been Yaoyorozu's. She'd ask Mina or Tsuyu for her phone number to ask her whether she'd like it back. Although, as diligent as she was, maybe she actually preferred sitting at the very front where she was closer to the chalkboard…

In any case, as soon as Megumi arrived home, she entered her room and locked her door. There had been nobody to greet her at the entrance nor inside the mansion, save for a couple of maids who she had quickly dismissed. They hadn't put up much of a fight- although their eyes had fleetingly locked on to the injured wrist and the bruises littering her face, they let her pass through without much fuss. It was mildly inconvenient having to maneuver around the wrist bracer while simultaneously trying to keep her patchwork of bandages and bandaids intact, but she managed.

One of the only things she was grateful for in this godforsaken house was the undeniable luxury she was provided with: her room had its own adjoining bathroom, decked out with shiny white tiles and a tub. While waiting for the tub to fill, she had removed her clothes as well as the bandages around her head and grabbed some scissors, inspecting herself in the vanity mirror. She couldn't have possibly called herself a former broke college student if she didn't know how to trim her own hair. Thank god her dominant hand wasn't the injured one. She expertly clipped off the uneven strands, utilizing hair clips to keep her fringe out of the way, until her hair looked nice and tidy. For once, she could actually feel some air hitting the nape of her neck.

'I would've fought Todoroki sooner if I knew it'd get me to cut off all that deadweight.' She told herself sarcastically.

Megumi gingerly touched around her head, where Recovery Girl had applied the ointment. It still seemed to be bleeding quite a bit… she frowned, pulling back her hand. It couldn't be too serious of an injury if all it did was itch and faintly ache. She'd have to visit Recovery Girl during their brief break to get her wrist and bruises healed up real quick. Otherwise, nothing else seemed out of place.

The exhaustion she had accumulated throughout the day caught up with her when she sank into the hot water. Everything hurt. She fought off the sleepiness, succeeding in draining the tub and taking a well-deserved shower before exiting the bathroom and flopping onto her bed. And before she knew it, she had passed out.

The two days passed by relatively quickly. With enough rest, her quirk had started responding to her again.

Curiously, she hadn't seen a single glimpse of her fretful little sister during their usual tasteless family dinners. She seemed to have gotten herself grounded, though Megumi couldn't imagine her making trouble with that fidgety countenance of hers. Judging by the scowl etched across Seiichi's face when she brought it up, she concluded that it had been a typical sibling spat. Most likely it had ended up with mother dearest taking his side. After all, he was the favorite. And father… well, that man never had any idea about literally anything going on in the house.

At least it was a good enough conversation starter for her to secretly spit her food out in a tissue or napkin. She'd rather order takeout.

According to Mina and Tsuyu, the rest of the Sports Festival had gone just as Megumi had hoped it would: Bakugo had won. They'd fought tooth and nail to keep his murderous intent at bay on the stage, in spite of the direct source of his anger (Todoroki) standing right under his nose. Well, she had warned him about Todoroki not being in his right mind, but it seemed that experiencing it first-hand was still annoying enough to have him throw a tantrum.

Her newly healed hand held onto her umbrella as she walked the short trek from the tram station to the school entrance. She'd rather not run in the rain- not to mention she still felt pretty sore.

All the questions and comments she had received in the tram about her participation in the festival had gone into one ear and out the other. She had noncommittally nodded along to everything, suppressing a yawn. Flashed the occasional lukewarm smile here and there. Signed some little kid's notebook. Ahh, it was going to be like this from now on wasn't it? The more she continued on her current path, the more she'd have to keep up public appearances. 'How tiring.'

She hadn't accounted for the mood in the classroom to be absolutely buzzing with excitement when she entered.

People were animatedly talking about their experiences with their first taste of fame, looking much too awake for Megumi to even consider interacting with them. She got a decent amount of greetings and friendly pats on the back as she made her way to her seat. Compliments on her hair by the girls, asking for hairdresser recommendations, before they were once again pulled into lively conversation. Having such overwhelming amounts of positive emotion directed her way this early in the morning was a bizarre feeling. 'They must have really enjoyed my matchup against Todoroki.'

Surprisingly, nothing seemed wrong with Iida when she spoke with him. There was nothing out of the ordinary about him belatedly thanking her for bringing him to the hospital and apologizing for the worry he caused. She could definitely see how he had fooled everyone into thinking he was relatively okay in the original timeline. However, if she looked close enough into his eyes, she could just barely make out the manic anger that festered behind them. 'Not a heroic look, that's for sure.'

As Megumi walked to her seat to place down her bag, she resolved not to look in Todoroki's general direction. Yaoyorozu had given her the okay to switch their seats back (through text) the other day, for which she was grateful. For someone who the Original had treated with little respect, she was so friendly it hurt. Then again, no one in the heroics course had been taking the diva seriously in the first place. The Original had been all talk and petty insults without substance behind them. Megumi still found it laughable that she had gone out of her way to comment on Mina's appearance when her room was literally filled with pink. Her hero costume? That atrocity had been bright pink from head to toe. No wonder Mina hadn't taken the jibe to heart.

Speaking of her hero costume… she hoped they had received her revision of it. Yea, hot pink was pretty terrific, but she would rather not blind herself with neon colors now that she actually had 20/20 vision on both eyes (as opposed to Colby). And although frilly skirts were quite cute and comfortable, she couldn't stand the fluttering sensation. She'd see how her design turned out once they sent the costume over before the internships started.

Bakugo side-eyed her as she settled in the seat right in front of him, taking out her stuff and placing them on her desk. He didn't really look like he was going to be a helpful desk neighbor. At least neither he nor Shoji (to her right) would actively try to freeze her to death.

The whole class quieted down immediately when Aizawa-sensei came in, free of his arm cast and bandages. Megumi felt a sense of camaraderie with him, knowing all too well about the long lectures Recovery Girl would launch into once she got you healed. He cleared his throat, scratching one of his eyes absent-mindedly. "Today we've got a hero informatics class, and a special one at that."

Students stared at him in fear and trepidation.

"You'll be coming up with your hero aliases."

And those emotions vanished instantly, the class erupting in cheers.

Megumi leaned her cheek onto her hand, interested in the explanation he launched into about pro heroes being able to withdraw their internship drafts anytime they wanted. Say, if she turned out to not be as interesting of a hero they had thought she'd be, they would simply revoke their internship offer. That was a pretty cut-throat way of saying 'we don't think you're going to be worth mentoring'.

"Now, here are the complete draft pick numbers. There's typically more of a spread, but… in any case, some of you did better than expected."

The room broke out in all sorts of noises, most of them conveying utter defeat at the two names that dominated the list. However, there was one name at the top, right below Bakugo's, that slackened Megumi's jaw. Her chin almost slipped off of the hand she'd been leaning on, eyes wide in befuddlement as she looked at the whopping "924" written boldly next to her name. Such an amount wasn't even close to Bakugo's or Todoroki's, but considering her placement in the Sports Festival, it was an absurd number.

Someone must have had the same thoughts as her, because she faintly (through the haze of shock) heard someone say, "Woah that's insane! She wasn't even in the semi-finals."

Mina whooped from the other side of the classroom. "Spare some for the rest of us!"

Their joking, light-hearted tones didn't help the blush crawling up her neck and taking over her face as she continued staring at the blackboard. The pro heroes… had liked her? They had liked her enough to give her this many offers? It was both flattering and terrifying to the highest degree. Her parents could virtually have nothing to do with this, considering they wanted her to fail, not thrive with a total of 924 internship offers. 'What the hell? Did they like my death match against Todoroki that much?! Was it the WWE moves I busted out against him?'

While she was still trying to process her popularity amongst the audience, Midnight had swaggered in and announced that they would now be picking their hero names. This was all starting to feel too fast for her, but nonetheless, Megumi tried to keep her focus on the teachers.

"The name you pick now may very well be what the world calls you until the end of time! So choose wisely!" Midnight exclaimed with absolute confidence.

Aizawa-sensei chimed in with a clarification of his own. "The name you choose will bring you closer to cementing a certain image in the public's mind…"

Megumi couldn't help but think, that for someone who had decided their hero name on a whim, that was some great advice. She hadn't really… thought about who she wanted to be known as. It was going to be a part of her for the rest of her life once she started doing hero stuff. But at the same time, did they really have to decide on such an important matter this early on? Hell, she was still reeling from the draft pick numbers. She was in no mental state to come up with a witty name.

15 minutes passed of everyone wracking their brains before the first people started presenting their aliases. Megumi smiled ruefully at Aoyama as he presented his. That name was definitely not going to fit in magazines and news articles. They would probably end up abbreviating his name to ICST or something- which sounded like they'd just made up a brand new, 17th personality type.

She suppressed a grin when it was Mina's turn. Although Midnight expressed her distaste for 'Alien Queen', Megumi quite liked the oomph it had to it. Too bad it was rejected. Following Mina was Tsuyu with 'Froppy', which was just straight-up adorable. She really knew how to come off as friendly and reliable.

One after another, students trudged to the front like lambs to the slaughter, Midnight's judgment decree awaiting them. To be frank, doing this in front of the whole class was a bit embarrassing. Megumi kept glancing at her little whiteboard, debating whether she should change it to something punnier. But she genuinely did not have any leftover brain cells for that to be possible. She didn't accidentally want to come up with a BDSM stripper name given the nature of her quirk.

Once it was her turn, Midnight raised an intrigued brow. "Oh! I thought I'd be dealing with 'Chain Reaction' or 'Jailor', but this is so much better!"

Written out in bold, unwavering letters that hardly conveyed how little thought she'd given to it was 'Vertigo'.

There was no deep reason behind it. It was simply the sensation she got whenever she used her quirk. A sense of dizziness overwhelming her until she could neither think nor walk straight.

Like an endless whirlpool of energy pulling her in, yet unable to drown her…

She politely smiled at Midnight. If there was something she was good at, it was improvisation. "I want to sweep villains off their feet and throw them around until they puke out their guts. I thought the name reflected that desire accurately."

The R18 hero let out a laugh. "Feisty! It's youthful. I like it!"

By the time most of the class had declared their aliases, Bakugo was still furiously scribbling on his whiteboard. Since Megumi didn't have anything better to do, she turned towards him in her seat and pointed an offending finger at whatever he was writing. "What about something tame? Like Supersonic Scream? Oh, how about Protagonist Syndrome-"

Suppressed laughter came from the middle of the classroom. It seemed that Sero, Kirishima and Kaminari always had an ear out for any situation that inconvenienced Bakugo. The boy in question opted to direct his ire at her, clutching his whiteboard to his chest so she couldn't see. "Shut up Blondie! Mind your own damn business."

And so, she turned back around to watch the clock on the wall in boredom. "You're blonde too…" She defiantly muttered under her breath.

Messing with Bakugo was fun, but perhaps not the best course of action in the middle of a class. She would patiently have to wait for the topic to eventually switch back to their internships. If she could help it, she'd rather avoid the whole Hosu area. With so many offers, there was bound to be a pro who she could learn some valuable tricks from...

Okay hear me out, on the eve of spring 2020 I was thrust into the raging ocean of life without the life jacket called 'experience', and suffered the consequences of entering a higher educational institution in pursuit of academic achievements.

I pray you've all been well. It's been a rough year and a half.

With that said- You've left so many wonderful comments that just warm my heart whenever I read them, I love you guys so much! Thank you to everyone who didn't lose hope in this story. I have no intentions of dropping this story, Megumi is very dear to me (this is why I wanted it to initially stay a one-shot omg, but I'm overjoyed that you guys like it!). If this story helped some of you relieve your boredom during the lockdowns, even for a few hours, I'm happy.

This chapter was halfway done before I unexpectedly lost all time and motivation to write. When I got back into the chapter, I had to scrap a decent portion and rewrite everything because I couldn't remember where I wanted to go with it. I really hope this chapter makes sense, let me know what you think!

Also I have some of Megumi's doodles on DeviantArt (username: Konamiro), which u can take a look at! She never looks the same whenever I draw her though, so it's safe to say you can imagine her however you like :)