Sixth grade

It was a good day.

A soft hum echoed through her Mom's bakery, the tempo of conversations rising and falling as the day moved by slowly. Pink marks, like the carnations that were planted in her garden, were scattered around her hands and wrists. No matter how many hours she put in—how many cakes and cookies and pastries she drew out of the oven—Aimi always found the sharp, searing pain racing up her arm. Her Mom said it was because she was being careless, her Dad said it was because the ovens were oddly placed.

Aimi knew it was because she wasn't paying attention.

It was hard sometimes. Gentle thumps interrupted conversations, breaking her concentration and causing her to slip up. When she told her Dad, he merely blinked at her.

"It's a trait you must learn to control," was what he'd say, eyes that mirrored her own holding nothing but concern, "You will never understand you Quirk if you can't make it past the first step."

A beat of silence would pass before he'd continue with, "Besides, the ovens your Mother got are so awkwardly placed. I wish she'd lower them."

Aimi silently scoffed at the memory, wiping the dark brown dust on the baby blue apron she wore. Three different shades of batter stained the pastel fabric: red velvet, vanilla, and cookies n' cream. The vanilla wasn't required—her Mom emphasized that the second she entered the small shop.

He better appreciate these, she thought as she pursed her lips, nimble fingers pressing sugared strawberries onto white frosting. Shouta, Aimi knew, was going to be rather annoyed that she didn't come to school today.

But, hey, if her Mom said she didn't have to go, Aimi wasn't going to argue.

Besides, the box crinkled and creaked at the sudden pressure, she was careful not to ruin the design, Shouta has friends at school…me not being there isn't the end of the world.

Pale hands froze, onyx hair falling to one side, brown eyes wide, I'm not supposed to be here.

Why am I here?'

"Aimi," Her Mom's warm voice pulled her from her thoughts, yanking and tugging her from the spiral she refused to ascend. Aimi blinked, the backroom suddenly feeling frigid as invisible nails traced down her spine, "Shouta-chan's here."

"Okay!" Tape snapped against cardboard, the sticker that advertised her Mom's bakery glaring up at her—Asami's Home, "I'm coming."

Remember, Suzuki Aimi smiles.

Harsh black eyes met her soft ones, water dripping from the ends of inky waves. It was only then that Aimi noticed the ominous clouds that soiled the bright sky and heard the patter of rain.

"I did tell you it was going to rain today." Aimi teased, placing the white box on the counter and reaching underneath the marble countertop. Shouta stared at her, unmoving and unamused.

"You sent me the text a few hours ago," He said, "I was already at school by then."

Aimi lips quirked up and she placed the polka-dot umbrella next to the cupcake container. It was hers but Shouta didn't know that. Besides, he needed it more than she did. Her Mom could share.

"Vanilla with whipped cream" She stated, sliding the box towards him, "And strawberries."

Your favorite.

Shouta eyed her hesitantly, gazing flickering between her and her Mom. It made him uncomfortable, she knew, to accept food without paying for it. Wispy strands of black wavered under the air condition. Aimi was just going to say it, he was such a pretty boy.

"Shouta-chan," Her Mom said, warm hands coming up to rest on her shoulders, "Why don't you share them with Aimi and show her what she missed in class today?"

Her friend, her only friend, didn't hesitate to answer, "Sure."

Eighth grade

"I think you'd be a great hero, Shouta-chan."

Aimi knew her words were kind, encouraging, sweet. She knew that they were everything Shouta didn't want to hear. The room was dark—save for the light that illuminated from the screen—and, under the soft blanket that covered her legs, Aimi silently waited for Shouta to begin the movie.

It was partially her fault. She was supposed to walk home with him but the teacher asked her to stay after class. Shouta wanted to wait—he hesitated by the door, silently asking her what she wanted. With a soft smile, she told him to go ahead—promised him that she'd catch up.

Aimi didn't mean to arrive so late.

Aizawa Shouta was smart. He was smart, he was kind, he was the perfect student, he was quiet. He wasn't weak, he wasn't dumb, he wasn't pathetic. Aizawa Shouta, to Aimi, was everything she wished she could be. He's nothing like what I expected him to be.

"Stop lying, Suzuki." She heard him snap, tone harsh and slightly scratchy. Aimi stilled, fidgeting with her fingers and staring blankly at the screen. From the corner of her eye, she saw him rub his face. She saw the way he scrunched his nose and ran a hand through his hair.

Aizawa Shouta was quiet. Aizawa Shouta liked the silence.

She used to be like him until she wasn't.

Suzuki Aimi was his opposite—she had to be his opposite.

"Let's go to Yuuei together." It was a statement and Aimi said it with unwavering confidence.

"That's a stupid idea."

Suzuki Aimi always smiled.

Beaming, Aimi turned to him, ignoring that his eyes were redder than normal and that his nose was slightly pink. Carding a hand through her short hair, she stopped to scratch the back of her head, "I don't think it is."

Shouta said nothing, only continuing to glare at her.

Just what did they say to you?

"Your Quirk is super cool, you know." The words slipped through her lips seamlessly, utter truth reigning, "You can take away someone's Quirk—you can hold an advantage to them. Not everyone can do that. You'd be stronger than them, too! Villains always seem to depend on their Quirk more than they depend on their strength…but you, you can take that away—you can win, Shouta." I know he can, "You just need to train."

Aimi hesitated, biting her lip harshly, ignoring the metallic taste that flooded her mouth. She needed to do this. She needed to make sure he would be strong—that he would see his worth.

She needed to be his friend; no, she was his friend. What she needed to do was support him. To give him her all.

"I'll train with you. I'll…I'll ask my Dad to train us if you promise to go to Yuuei with me!"

Twinkling dark eyes clashed against hers, surprise dancing through them as his mouth hung slightly agape. Aimi knew her Dad would be disappointed with her, but it was worth it. She wasn't a main character—she didn't have people depending on her in the future. Without thinking, Aimi reached forward and grabbed his hand, it's surprisingly hot…like he's been holding it over a fireplace for hours.

"Let's do our best, Shouta-chan."

hi! I apologize for the sudden change of stories. I really hated how bandages was written and wanted to rewrite it.

thank you for all the favs, follows, and reviews! i keep checking my email because i get so excited when i see a notification, haha!

starrat: thank you so much for your review, I got so happy when i saw your name!

Yuki Suou: ahhh! thank you, I'm so glad you like it! I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint!

poprockie: thank you! I hope it stays cute and all (there will be a splash of angst lmao)! I hope this chapter is cute tho!

Eterna the water phoenix: ooh, your username is so cool! :). i'm so glad you like Aimi's story and yes, so many questions but all will have answers! I hope you like this chapter!

please review! they make me smile no matter how long or short they are :)

see you soon

ana