So far, Megumi has proven to be a fascinating character to write. It may seem early to say that, but it's a promising sign in my eyes. I can usually tell pretty quickly whether or not I enjoy a character, and that tends to dictate how much time and effort I spend on a story. I seem to have a penchant for writing aggressive OCs. Anyway, here's chapter numero dos. Enjoy!

A muted knock wakes me in the morning, and I open my eyes irritably in the pitch blackness. When I don't respond, a girl's voice calls from beyond the door, "If you don't come down soon, you won't have time to eat breakfast." Judging from the polite tone, it's probably Yaoyorozu. After a few seconds, I hear her footsteps retreating down the hall.

I reach out to the bedside table and grope around for the lamp. Eventually, my fingers find the cord. I yank it, and light spills out into my lair of darkness. Tossing off the covers, I throw my oversized T-shirt onto the floor and make my way to my wardrobe. Unlike my wardrobe at home, this one is organized neatly, with a few neatly pressed uniforms hanging on one side and my personal clothes arranged into summer and winter clothing on the other. Having discovered this last night, I barely even note it as I snatch out one of the uniforms and toss it on the bed. I jerk open one of the drawers, take out a pair of shorts and socks, and finally get to dressing. When I'm fully clothed, I take a few more seconds to sling up my hair before glancing at the bathroom, deciding to skip brushing my teeth, and leaving.

The blinding light of the hallway has me scowling all the way to the dining area. The bright chatter so early in the morning doesn't do anything to help my mood, either. Most of the students are either cleaning up or done with their meal, the one exception I find being Yaoyorozu, who sits straight as a board in front of two untouched plates of eggs. When she sees me, she waves.

Oh, one of those must be for me.

"We have to eat quick," she states as I seat myself across from her. Pushing one of the plates towards me, she explains, "We only have fifteen minutes before we need to be at the school."

I pick up a fork and start eating, as does she. Occupied with the task at hand, she doesn't notice me watching her as I chew. She waited for me, didn't she? Great. That means she's one of those overly considerate types. I suppose, at least, that means she'll probably make a good a hero. And with a quirk like she has, she might just end up being one of the best.

I've always been a fast eater, so I'm finished in only a few minutes. Across from me, however, Yaoyorozu seems to be struggling. From the looks of it, she's trying to eat fast, but her attention to etiquette restrains her motions. Multiple times she very nearly puts down her fork between bites, only to freeze and keep it in her hand. Watching her, I don't know whether to scoff or honestly laugh.

She finishes a few minutes after me, though, and hurriedly cleans up. We're the last to leave the dorms. Although her pace is brisk, eager to break ahead, she continually hangs back to stay with me. If I were nicer, I'd tell her to go on without me, but since I'm not, I just pop a candy in my mouth and let her doom herself to being tardy. It's not my fault she's set on going to school with me.

When we reach the classroom, the bell has just rung. Mr. Aizawa scolds the girl with me first, to which she adamantly apologizes and dashes to her seat. To me, he gives the same chastation, and then holds out his hand. "Your costume blueprint."

Crunching the jolly rancher in my mouth, I meet his eyes. "Don't have one."

A vein bulges on his forehead at my response. The rest of the room falls silent.

Once he's simmered until he's decidedly well cooked, he seethes, "Development Studio. Now."

"Where's that?"

"I'll show you," the frog girl volunteers, rising from her seat. You wouldn't think it, from the calm look on her face, but her quickness betrays her fear of the teacher. Before I move to follow her, I cast a glance towards Shouto. He isn't even looking my direction.

I duck my head and trail frog girl out of the room. What was her name again? Asui?

"You shouldn't make the teacher mad like that," she suddenly says out of nowhere.

I shift my gaze off of her and shrug, despite the fact she hasn't turned to look at me. "I don't have a blueprint. What else was there to do?"

"Still, Mr. Aizawa is strict. If you keep being disrespectful, he might even go as far as to expel you. It also puts him in bad mood for the rest of the day," she sighs. Finally, she peeks over her shoulder at me. "So please, for the class's sake and yours, try to be a little more compliant."

My jaw twists tight. My immediate response would normally be that it isn't any of her business, but her reference to it being troublesome to the rest of the class makes it her business. Again, if only it wasn't her saying it, but so far Shouto's acted like he wants nothing to do with me.

Asui's eyelids droop and she apologizes, "Sorry, I didn't mean to make you mad."

After that, she doesn't talk again. Eventually, she stops at a door and opens it, and we step into a room of metal. Everything looks sterile, from the messy but polished tables to the tools hanging on the wall. Sitting at one of those tables is a short man wearing only pants, boots, gloves, and a giant construction shovel on his head. How he sees out of that thing, I can't imagine. He sets down his tools, turning to us upon our entry.

"What can I help you with? Oh, you must be the new student." He raises to his feet and extends a hand which, after a second of leaving it hanging in the air, I reach out and take. He gives a single solid shake before letting go. "Did you bring the blueprints for your suit?"

"Actually," Asui beats me to the punch, "she was sent herself because she doesn't have one yet."

"I see. You can go back to class, Asui. I'll keep Kyou here until we finish drawing up a design."

With my guide gone, I'm not sure I'll know exactly how to join the class when I'm done, but whatever. I eye Asui as she leaves, then turn back to the hero. I can't remember exactly what his name is, but I'm pretty sure he helps with rescues. "So are you gonna give me some crayons or something?

The hero points at me with a wrench. "I might as well draw it since I'm here. Just tell me what you need and want from your costume, and we can work on appearance together."

"I don't care what it looks like," I shrug. Then I quickly tack on, "As long as I don't look like a three year old. The only thing I need…" I splay my palms for him to see. "These need to be bare, and the back," I say, flipping them so he can see the dot on each hand. "And then there's this."

Delicately, I use only the tips of my fingers to brush aside my hair, careful not to touch the skin of my forehead.

He takes this in silently for a minute and I let my bangs drop back into place. Then, he wonders, "I apologize if I'm asking something personal, but what do all those markings have to do with your quirk?"

"...Is it necessary for the design?"

"It might be."

I sigh, once again turning my hands so he can see the dots on the back. "One of these needs to touch the dot on my forehead, otherwise my quirk stays dormant."

He doesn't respond immediately, but a few moments later, he nods, picking up a pencil and beginning to sketch. As he draws, he questions me about my measurements, and asks, "Your quirk is psychological, correct?"

I nod.

"That means you'll probably undergo a lot of physical training to make up for your normal physique, so you'll have to have mobility and flexibility...as for color…" He pauses to assess me. "Dark purple is a hard hair color to compliment. Pink would work, but considering anything even slightly vibrant would make your eyes look washed out, we can't do that either."

I scoff. It doesn't matter what I wear, my eyes always look disturbingly pale pink.

"I would do black, except…"

"I would look like a villain?" I smirk. "I say do it. I look like a villain, anyway."

He taps his pencil in thought, then mumbles, "I guess it could work, so long as we keep the cuts rounded and simple." He scribbles something down and asks, "Are there any sort of devices you think would help? I usually have my hands full maintenancing the outfits that require complicated mechanisms, but one of the students this year is an avid inventor, so even if it isn't necessary, we could probably handle any extra desired elements."

I shake my head, and he shrugs. Then, setting aside the paper he'd been writing on, he tells me, "You're dismissed. I'll deliver your costume to the dorms when the company completes it."

I take my leave without complaint. As the door shuts behind me, I unwrap a piece of gum and pop it in my mouth. It may be against the rules, but it's not like Mr. Aizawa's gonna see it. Even if I wanted to go back to class, without Asui to guide me, I'm as good as a mouse in a maze. What do I do, then? Where should I go? I can't leave the school grounds, or else whoever's watching the gate will take me back to my class.

The dorm it is, then.

I start by retracing my steps back to the 1-A classroom, my intent being to retrace my steps from there back to the dorms. However, on my way back, I run into a vaguely familiar blonde fellow. I wouldn't have noticed him at all, except that, upon seeing me, the most disgusting jeer comes across his face. It's enough to have me plant myself where I stand, narrowing my eyes.

"Oh would you look at that? It's the new delinquent of class A! Isn't that strange? You would think a school for heroes wouldn't have delinquents, and yet there's one is the supposed best class! How peculiar!"

I return the sneer without any of the amusement. "What's your point, blondie?"

"I just think it's funny that the supposed best class in the school accepted a villain in the making! How low they've stooped! How pathetic! How—"

My foot comes down loud enough for the noise to fill the entire hallway. The blondie jumps halfway out of his skin before freezing, that infernal, taunting smile stuck on like glue.

"I don't know who the hell you think you are," I seethe, "but if you don't shut your trap, I'll skin that ugly face of yours and stuff it down your throat."

His lip twitches. Then it settles into a less crazed, much chillier smirk that has my glare sharpening. "Well, that isn't a very hero-like thing to do, now is it?"

"Try me. Let's see what other things I'll do that aren't very 'hero-like'."

"Are you really that stupid? Only an idiot would try something villainous in the hallways of UA. Clearly, you fall into the less intellectually inclined side of class A."

What the hell? What's this guy's problem? I've never even met the dude before and yet the first time he sees me, he starts hurling insults my way like there's no tomorrow! My hands flex in their pockets. He's seriously asking for it. If anyone's an idiot here, it's him. If only he knew the hell I could give him…

"Kyou."

Every muscle in my body locks, my eyes no longer seeing the blondie in front of me. It's the blondie's voice that talks next, but I barely catch what he's saying.

"So the class's prized student came to pick up their troublemaker. I guess you have to keep her on a tight leash to make sure she doesn't go rogue."

I straighten stiffly and shift my gaze to the dual color haired boy who's appeared behind the nuisance. An involuntary shiver runs over my skin under his glare.

He's angry.

Straining to find my voice, I manage to spit, "What do you want?"

"I was told to come bring you back to class." His voice is just as frigid as his stare. "Come on."

My jaw clenched, I shoot the infuriating blondie one last glance, then step around him to follow Shouto.

"Really, just like a sad little puppy."

My hand flies out of its pocket as I whirl on the boy.

Burning fingers close around my wrist before I can bring it to my face.

My breath audibly hitches at the sensation and I unintentionally trip a step back. I drink in the sight of my quivering hand, entrapped in a familiar, abnormally hot grip. I can't bring myself to meet Shouto's eyes.

A second later, his fingers are gone, and I've already fled. The world is as equally a blur as my mind as I run, and run, and run, my untouched hand suffocating the still warm hand against my chest. I run despite the people calling after me, the eyes that gape at me, the lungs that sear me.

The next thing I know, I've slammed myself into the hideaway on the other side of town and collapsed to the floor heaving. I don't try to get up.

He was angry. Of course he was angry. I was being aggressive. I was acting like a villain. He has every reason to disapprove. Of course he'd stop me from using my quirk. Anyone would! Of course he'd grab my hand and stop me!

But he didn't just grab my hand. He used his left hand. He used it. He threatened me with the same disgusting heat as that man who called himself his father!

Wetness begins to gather in my eyes, but I refuse it. I force it back, digging nails into my skin and letting loose a scream so raw it echoes for multiple seconds after I've cut it off. Then I scream again, and again, and again, guttural and enraged, until I've spent all my energy and am left with gritted teeth and exhausted limbs. Then, and only then, does a single tear manage to escape and slip down into my hair. I press the heels of my palms into my eyes with a shuddering breath.

Thank god Dabi isn't here.

So I knew from the get-go that Megumi was going to be somewhat unstable, but she really blew through my expectations. It's only chapter two and she's already having a screaming fit on the floor. It makes me a little worried to think of where she'll go from here. And a little excited. What're your guys' thoughts on her? I might like her, but I'm writing this for you guys to enjoy, so what really matters is your opinion. So, thoughts? Expectations? Questions? I'd love to hear them. Anywho, I'll see you guys next chapter!