AN: I can't reply to quest reviewers, but I'm sorry for the mixup last chapter and you are right on the money- and you're the first to notice that.

This chapter is completely unedited- before the next chapter is posted I'll come back and fix whatever errors I find over the month.


Chapter 7: A Young Girls Day Out


Tanya Yamada, Hero Student, 1-A Seat # 6


Returning home after the long day was a boring affair. Midoriya offered to walk with me to the train, however at the gate he was interrupted by his father. I waved off his worries and said my farewells to the two. While Midoriya may have been present company I'd rather limit my interactions with the number one until I had a better grasp on his character.

Alone in my thoughts once again, I let myself look over the breathtaking sight of the setting sun over the city. The sky ablaze with vibrant hues of oranges, pinks, and purples, casting a warm, tranquil atmosphere over the urban landscape. It's a moment of serene beauty, a respite from the chaos her daily life has turned into.

It's a moment that feels stolen somehow.

Walking the memorized path to the train station a growing sense of unease was tugging at me.

I was only a few blocks away from the school, but…

With each step, I examined the waves of sounds bouncing off my surroundings, constantly alerting me to everything around me.

A truck honked around the corner the yellowish lights rapidly shining everywhere.

Blinking the lights away I grit my teeth and focus on the waves again. Some foreign anger growing like a stoked ember.

Being X is trying to take this away from me.

The city streets, once vibrant and alive, now seem suffocating. The bustling crowds and tall buildings that once inspired awe or appreciation now feel oppressive, closing in on me as I walk through them.

It's as if the world around me is conspiring to diminish me and rob me of my well earned peace.

It only became worse as the further away from the school I walked the more people were active. Their distinct noises adding to the mosaic of frequencies traveling through the air.

As I navigated through the swarming sea of people, irritation surges through my veins. The cacophony of sounds—the honking of car horns, the chatter of passersby, and the distant rumble of traffic—seem to mock my very being, drowning out my thoughts. The scents that once delighted the senses now assault my nostrils, overwhelming and invasive.

Approaching the train station, my anger intensifies. A faint barely recalled memory of a familiar scene biting at the edge of my thoughts.

Each step I take feels heavier, fueled by the growing realization that Being X, the embodiment of all my frustrations and obstacles, was starting to show his hand. The electronic display boards at the station seem to mock me, flashing with updates and schedules that only serve to remind me of life's relentless march forward.

Standing amidst the bustling crowd, I clenched my fists, knuckles turning white. The distant train's whistle-, instead of bringing relief, brought a sense of foreboding. The sense that someone was watching- waiting- A sound- a sound that was echoing others around it.

Like a switch flipped, the phantom feeling of a hand on my back forced me to turn around.

No one was behind me. Through my rapid movement seemed to have drawn the eyes of an older school girl, a few meters away, her feline eyes watching me with a cat-like smile. The stare was a little unsettling- thankfully she looked away after I raised my eyebrow at her. Looking around I ducked my head, noticing that my quick movements had caused those around me to edge away.

I clicked my tongue, keeping my head down but senses open, listening to the mix of everyone's sounds echoing around me, keeping an eye on the echoing song in the back. The train finally arrived and I followed the others on board, going back to keeping an eye out for anything strange.

The overhead lights flickered, casting long, monstrous shadows that danced on the train's walls.

To my left stood a woman, with a deer quirk, her eyes were wide and doe-like, flickering with a nervous energy. Her antlers jutted out from her crown, almost scraping the ceiling of the train car, and her slender fingers were shaking subtly. She was standing alone, her own small island in the sea of people, her gaze fixed pointedly on the phone in her hand.

Across from me was a man with the characteristic features of a wolf. His eyes, a piercing yellow, flicked around the carriage, sharp and alert. His hair was a forest of grizzled greys and midnight blacks, cascading over his broad shoulders. He stood apart from the crowd, his posture rigid, a silent watcher of those around him.

Across from me near the subway doors, a young boy with avian features perched alone on a seat. He had the plumage of a bird of paradise, a riot of colors that sprouted from beneath his clothes and curled around his neck. His eyes, black and glossy, stared off into the distance, and his small beak opened and closed in a silent, errant song.

Despite their differences, all held the same expression of quiet resignation. The train car was a patchwork of quirked passengers, but the divide was clear. The non-mutant quirks were clustered together in tight-knit groups, most shooting covert glances at the animal-like beings, their faces a mix of curiosity, fear, and pity. The air was thick with unspoken tension, a silent symphony of alienation.

Thankful that my quirk allowed me to blend in with the rest. I continued to listen to the music that bounced off the train's walls.

I left the train with a scowl.


Nagant's Children's Home was a dull pink stone building with peeling purple shutters. This building was probably once a shining pearl in the city. Some once famed heroine's brainchild to "give back" to the community, but like all passion projects without the founder to keep the passion alive, someone else dipped their fingers into the pot and spoiled it. In the case of the children's home, the sticking fingers belong to the HPSC and the very special hidden group within.

I had noticed, but not acknowledged years ago that Mita was so eager to reveal her heroic prospects to her contact in the government, that I don't think she realized the level of possible trafficking she was throwing said kids into. When I had awoken my quirk and been told how to prevent it from killing myself I did everything in my power to harness the gift given to me. Knowing my previous life and how Being X's schemes had ruined everything I threw myself into training.

It was only then that I realized the trap that was closing in around me. The trainer was a government worker, who was recording everything I did and questioning different things. I told him of the songs I heard and saw in the air, and he had me sing karaoke despite normal songs being nowhere near what I was hearing. I told him this and he just smiled and told me to do as I was told. Deciding then and there whatever organization he was a part of wasn't one I needed to be in. I did just that. On my own I did my best to experiment, but when all I did was injure myself further I limited myself to what I knew worked and abandoned further experiments.

Increased strength and energy when I mimicked the energetic tones of a hyper Mita. Drowsiness and calmness when mimicking the low drone of Okuma's icy voice.

If there is one thing that the military and education had in common it was routine. Be in a specified location at this specific time with all gear at the ready to execute given duties by a commanding officer. Perform a task to standard rinse and repeat over and over until it is time to depart to the mess to fuel our bodies and minds and then do it all again.

I enjoyed the monotony of it. What few memories I had of my first life when I was a salary worker I enjoyed it as well. The routine helped me expect all things in life. There is nothing but joy in simplicity. At the orphanage it was much the same. Awake at this time, leave at this time, food at this time…

Speaking of that, as I entered the building taking my shoes off I instantly felt the presence of eyes on me. The high strung tempo of clicking- Mita was right behind me.

"You have some explaining to do young lady."

After explaining my case with the caretaker I was rightfully given a stern talking to about how safe and secure the school is with even the top hero in attendance.

When all was said and done I settled back in my room, set the alarm on my phone for tomorrow, and checked the news...


I'm the first one in the homeroom today, the floating clothes of Toru missing from her seat, If you choose to ignore the lazy teacher sleeping underneath his desk. Thankfully, it wasn't too long before the others began to trickle in. I took note of each one as they entered taking mental notes on their uniforms, it wouldn't do for people to start to slack on cleanliness while I had a leadership role.

Of course I made sure to smile when appropriate as greetings and wait for class to start.

Despite the bell signaling the start of the day, the teacher continued to sleep, and the noise levels of the students was only kept at bay for the first few minutes due to myself signaling everyone about said teacher sleeping. I could tell by the expressions that most of the class was unimpressed.

Eventually though Aizawa was awoken by an alarm on I can only assume his phone, with a blank stare a single word about behaving ourselves until the next period he left us to our own devices.

It was at this time I see recalled I didn't have the contact information of my friends on my phone yet and with subtle prodding of Izuku tricked him into asking everyone to create a 'chatroom' for the class.

Thankfully he seems to be getting used to talking to crowds. He only stuttered three times.

First period is math. The teacher, Ectoplasm, drones on, his voice merging with the monotone hum of the ventilation shaft. Numbers dancing on the whiteboard in an elaborate ballet that I vaguely follow. During this time I pretended to take notes, my pen aimlessly scribbling on the paper, while I thought about the various sounds the split copies of my teacher was giving.

The bell rings, a sweet relief from the monotony of simple equations and formulae. But the relief is short-lived. As history was next, and all that I could do was take notes, and study the dates in hopes to not fall behind.

Lunch provides a flash of brilliance in the otherwise lackluster day so far.

I had taken a sit at my now usual spot in the bustling room, picking at Lunch Rushe's meal of the day, a seared salmon. It was this meal that reminded me how lucky I am to enjoy the meals of a culinary master at a steal of a price.

A single bite of the seared salmon, and the flavors explode in my mouth. I feel the delicate balance of the fresh fish, the lemony tang, the richness of the butter sauce, and the subtle hint of dill. It's a symphony of flavors I have never experienced before. And it's not just the salmon – the sides, too, are beyond compare. The simple green beans have been transformed into a gourmet delight, cooked to perfection and tossed in garlic and olive oil, while the potatoes, crispy on the outside, creamy on the inside, are a comforting presence on my plate.

I still have to pinch myself sometimes to make sure I'm not dreaming. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine I would be eating food of this caliber in a school cafeteria. I feel like I've won some sort of gastronomic lottery. I've always loved food, but I never quite realized how much until just now.

I can see it now. Every day will be a new discovery, a new flavor, a new experience. And I can't help but feel a sense of joy – no, more than joy, a sense of privilege – that I get to enjoy this level of culinary artistry every single day. It's like having a daily ticket to a top-tier restaurant, only without the exorbitant prices.

My classmates chatter away, their words blending into a pleasant background noise. While I do my best to enjoy my food only vaguely nodding along to whatever conversations are happening around me. The world outside the window seems so distant, so disconnected from the little slice of school life I am a part of.

Then the flash of brilliance disappears, the end of the lunch period and back to the slow progress of school. Biology, literature, art - each subject feels like a different flavor of the same dish. The teachers talk, we listen, the bell rings, we move on. It's a dance everyone unknowingly has perfected over the years, a ritual of simple routine.

This day even Heroic lessons were lackluster- the hero today being Aizawa who put on a short film of fire fighting while he slept…

Finally, the last bell rings, signaling the end of the school day. I pack up my things and prepare for the door. A sigh of relief escapes my lips. Another day done, another small victory in the endless war against Being X.

As if the halls of U.A. itself became alive with the final bell, the usual frenetic energy ensued. Students shuffled out, a sea of colorful uniforms, masks, and hairstyles. As I took a moment to look over my things when I heard Kyoka, Toru and Mina, each distinctive in their own way, gather around my desk.

Kyoka, her dark, shoulder-length hair and cool demeanor being a stark contrast to the bubbly, invisible figure of Toru.

"Finally, school's over," sighed Tanya, stretching her arms. "I thought Aizawa-sensei's class would never end."

Toru's floating uniform giggled. "You're still not used to our hero studies, huh?"

Kyoka, who was packing her earphone jacks, smirked. "Well, it's not every day you get to toss your classmate across a room in the name of education."

The memory of yesterday made me groan, eliciting a round of laughter from the other two. Mercifully the laughter subsided shortly, Toru clapping her invisible hands together. "Okay, ladies, what's the plan for our girls' day out?"

"Girls day out?" I asked. Kyoka simply nodded, looking at me with a raised brow... like a flash i remembered myself earlier nodding and agreeing to something while i was eating… I had no choice but to accept.

And so, in a few short minutes we found themselves making out way downtown, walking fast-

As they walked, they chatted about everything from school, to movies, to even their favorite music.

Well, the other two were. I chimed in as they talked ever so often, offering my input.

Toru expressed how she felt she was feeling lost with the academics side, having focused on the more physical side of Heroics prior to joining U.A.

Kyoka talked about her family, and their music store. How the two used to go around and play at various venues, before settling down and teaching others their love of music.

Because of the direction of the conversation, the two were in turn, interested in my life back at the orphanage.

I didn't really see what was so interesting, but I talked about the other kids and how I would settle arguments between the younger kids.

The first stop on our journey seemed to be some popular, according to Toru, crepe stand.

The food was good, not on the level of Lunch Rush's meals of course, but the cook somehow having the food ready as soon as we finished our order- a precognition quirk of some kind?

I finished my single crepe while, Toru's crepe seeming to float in midair, disappearing piece by piece. Kyoka, on the other hand, seemed more interested in the street musicians playing nearby than finishing her snack.

Toru noticed as well and called out, "Kyoka, you should join them. I bet they'd love it!" Toru encouraged, her voice tinged with excitement.

Blushing slightly, Kyoka shook her head in denial, "Not today, Toru." Without prompting Toru turned towards me, "You should have heard her yesterday~ she can sing like you wouldn't believe!"

"Oh, I'll have to hear that sometime."

Embarrassed Kyoka stuffed her treat into her mouth quickly.

After their treat, the girls lead me into a clothes store. Toru found a white sundress that she claimed would 'look absolutely stunning' on her. Kyoka, meanwhile, stood beside me just nodding along with whatever the invisible girl suggested.

We spent the rest of the afternoon wandering around, each girl bringing her own unique perspective and interests to the table. As the sun began to set, we found ourselves at a park.

The park itself was... much more grand than I was expecting. A sprawling public park nestled in the heart of a bustling metropolis. Green Hill Zone, stretches out over a few hills amid the city's towering skyscrapers, offering a tranquil escape from urban life.

We entered the park from the east gate, a wide cobblestone pathway lead us forward, fringed by towering oak and maple trees. The leaves, providing a cool canopy under the sun.

To our left large, well-kept lawns open up, dotted with groups of people enjoying their leisure time. Some have spread colorful picnic blankets and are sharing meals; others are lying back, reading books, or just soaking up the sunshine. Children ran around with their pets, their laughter ringing out in the crisp air.

To our right, a lake shimmered under the sunlight. Ducks, and other birds glide gracefully over the water, leaving gentle ripples in their wake. A small stone bridge arches over the narrowest part of the lake, and the reflection it casts in the water is picture-perfect. I could spot from this distance several visitors pause on the bridge, feeding the ducks or just watching the calm water, their silhouettes framed by the setting sun.

I let my mind drift as we walked, Kyoka and Toru also taking the time to relax with me as we took in the scene.

Further along the path, we walked past more variety of amenities. A modern playground teeming with children, their joyful shrieks filling the air as they swing, slide, and climb. Nearby, a beautifully landscaped garden blooms with myriad colors, the scent of roses, lilies, and gardenias mingling in the air. What looked to be artificial Beehives placed strategically around the garden- buzzing with activity, contributing to the park's ecosystem.

A small fountain with a stage nearby a band and a pink haired idol was currently dancing and singing to a crowd... the adult eyepatch wearing idol, showing off her quirk by jumping off heart shaped platforms, and kicking up her skirt, the city's silhouette providing a stunning backdrop to the performance.

We clapped along with the music before leaving as "Pop-Step" waved goodbye to everyone and disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

The name sounded familiar, maybe a small-time hero on a day off?

Regardless, we reached the end of the park just as the sun was coming down. The paths lighting up with tasteful lighting fixtures, creating a warm, inviting glow. The city skyline, visible once again beyond the park's borders, lights up, the buildings twinkling like stars against the darkening sky.

Green Hill Zone is not just a park; it's a haven in the city, a place where city dwellers can reconnect with nature and escape the rush of urban life, even if just for a little while.

Deciding to stick around and watch the sunset was unanimously accepted and we sat at the edge of the park looking towards the lake.

The calmness of it all washed over me as we sat there together, the musical tones of Kyoka and Toru washed over me- this was what I wanted. The city below began to twinkle as lights flickered on, one by one, like stars born into the night. With my two friends beside me, I felt like I was on top of the world. I was genuinely happy, a feeling I hadn't known in a while.

But as the sun sank further, casting long shadows that danced with the darkness, at the edges of my senses I heard a laugh. The peace was slowly replaced by an unsettling feeling of dread, like the calm before the storm.

Being X.

The city that had felt so alive and welcoming during the day, now seemed eerie and alien. The distant laughter and shouts, once music to my ears, now resounded like ominous echoes. The buildings, once majestic, now loomed like monstrous silhouettes against the night sky.

I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to shake off the feeling.

The tranquility of the sunset had given way to an uncomfortable silence, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves or a distant car horn. My heart hammered in my chest, each beat a stark reminder of the frightening solitude. I could feel my breath hitching, my palms becoming clammy.

As the sun fully disappeared, and the chill of the night became apparent, I felt warmth envelop me. Kyoka had leaned onto my side, a smile on her face while her earjacks moving behind us. Confusion overtook me for a moment before the other girl wrapped her arms around us both squishing me between the two. I chuckled, at the absurdity of a hug of all things making me ignore my paranoia... "We should do this again later." They voiced their agreements.

As we stood up and began to leave, Kyoka decided to asked, "So, are you guys excited for rescue training this week?"

"Yeah! We get to go to Universal!" Toru cheered, before talking about how she always wanted to go there to ride the coasters. She didn't seem to wonder how there would be rescue training involved with the park though…

I rolled my eyes before bursting her bubble and explaining, "No Toru, The USJ stands for the Unforeseen Simulation Joint…"


A/N

Mark: So anyway work is very stressful, and I'll be out at sea for a while, so limited connection for the google doc I write this out on. (lot of notepad on my phone use!)

For those expecting a longer chapter- don't fret, lot more is coming- every anime has filler to build character ;)

Artemishnr: I also have been traveling a lot so we apologize for all the delays and this unedited chapter. If you decide you want to chat with us we made a Discord! Send us a message. We are pretty active on there. Also Mark had to build me a new computer cause mine crapped out so as soon as I get photoshop again I'm going to work on some art to post on our .

Created a discord for the community if anyone wants to use that: Spam for me to work on the story if you see my online, or if you want to talk about the various stories - 5hwtG5CjsP (its completely bare right now, I forgot to actually *make* the thing, and I barely have enough internet to post this chapter right now haha.)

And of course that one website is still there if you want to give us a starbucks every few months.