A/N: Woah, It didn't take me two months to get this chapter out this time. Miracle, I swear. Still took almost a month though, but with how much I wrote overall, including the scrapped bits (they're longer overall than the actual chapter, help me) I'm pretty happy with that time frame, honestly. Yes, I did rewrite the entire chapter from scratch again, how could you tell?
Seriously, though, I tried my best to get this chapter out quicker than the last one, and thankfully, I succeeded. Yay, me!
So, uh, My Hero Academia ended, which is cool, I suppose. Honestly, I'm not all that mad about the ending. I mean, I get why people would be—the ending was far from perfect and somewhat of a let down—but I also feel like it wasn't as bad as people are making it out to be, either. Even then, I don't really feel like getting angry about the ending to a manga I still enjoyed immensely overall—I've got better uses for my energy than that, lmao. Although, I'm not really here to argue, either. Let people think what they want to think. I'm just here to write some fanfic.
That said, I'm still unused to giving warning for my stories, so if you guys think a Content/Trigger Warning is warranted, please let me know, and with that, I hope you guys enjoy!
Fraying Nerves, Broken Dreams
Ume glanced at her mother warily out of the corner of her eyes as they walked down the street side by side, the sounds of their boots meeting the pavement filling her ears with every step. It was still early morning, the sun had only risen enough to barely peak over the tops of nearby buildings, leaving them and their surroundings lying in the shade. The air, cool and crisp, lightly bit at her cheeks, having been turned rosy by the winter chill, and her breath left her lips in a faint cloud of mist.
To compensate for the weather, they were both dressed warmly, although not excessively so; a scarf wrapped around their necks, a thick pair of boots, and a warm coat were enough to keep the cold at bay.
In actuality, her mother's workplace wasn't quite so far from their home, relatively speaking. However, that didn't mean her mother could make the trip on foot every day—that'd be far from practical. The prolonged commute would have only cut into the already meager amount of time she spent at home, and since they couldn't afford a car, her mother took the train, instead.
This was the first time Ume had joined her mother on her morning commute. Normally, she'd have still been at home, either only just getting out of bed or getting ready to leave for school.
Today was different. The reason for that was simple.
Today was the day of the UA entrance exam. Her ten months were officially up. In only a handful of hours, she'd be within UA's walls, giving everything she had to pass that exam.
In only a handful of hours, depending on how this went, she'd either make or break her future. Either her dream, her ambitions, would become a reality, or it would remain as just that—an unattainable dream.
Hence why she was bundled up in warm winter clothing, traipsing through the city at her mother's side. As it turned out, UA High School was quite a distance away. And while Ume could have technically made the journey on foot, doing so only would've been a huge waste of time. Taking the train was the far more practical option.
The fact that it'd also provided her with the chance to spend some extra time with her mother had just been an added bonus, albeit one Ume would cherish greatly.
And yet, as much as Ume wished she could take advantage of the time she'd been afforded, she just couldn't. Whenever she opened her mouth to spark a conversation, her tongue would twist itself into a knot, the words she wanted to say refusing to be said aloud.
All that left her lips were quiet, nervous breaths.
It didn't take long before her mother noticed her daughter's discomfort.
"Are you alright, Ume?" she asked, her lips downturned into a soft, concerned frown.
"I... I'm okay," she said as convincingly as she could.
The narrowing of her mother's eyes told her she hadn't bought it. Ume wasn't surprised. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd successfully hidden anything from her, no matter how deeply buried it'd been.
Although...
"You should have never been born in the first place!"
...she supposed there was one thing her mother hadn't found out about.
Not yet, at least. She hoped she never would.
"You know you can talk to me, Ume," her mother said, her voice gentle and reassuring. "Is something bothering you? You don't have to hide it if there is."
Ume clenched her jaw as a defeated sigh left her lips. "It's just... I'm nervous," she admitted. "I don't know how well I'll do."
Her mother let out a breath—an amused little huff, really—and her eyes crinkled at the edges as her lips spread into a smile. "There's not a thing you need to be worried about, Ume, especially not with how hard you've been studying and training this past year. And there's not a single doubt in my mind that you'll succeed. Everything will be just fine, I promise."
Those words should have reassured her, and they did in a way, she supposed. But the insecurity coiled around her heart like a viper strangling the life out of its prey had nestled too deeply to be dispersed. Still, Ume tried to smile, to show her mother that she appreciated her efforts, but her lips didn't so much as twitch. Despite her best efforts, the small nervous frown on her face remained.
"Y-Yeah..." Ume eventually whispered softly. "You're right. Thanks, Mom."
Her mother's own frown returned then, deeper and sadder than it'd been before, and Ume quickly glanced away, her gaze falling to the ground beneath her feet. The following silence was distinctly uncomfortable; Ume screwed her eyes shut as guilt welled up inside her.
'Stupid,' she thought. 'You're so stupid. Why did you even open your mouth? Now look at what you've done!'
Idly, she raised a shaking hand to rub at her eyes as a yawn forced itself from her throat. She stuffed it back into her coat's pocket before her mother could notice.
Exhaustion and anxiety, as she'd come to learn, was a terrible combination of emotions, and one she'd become increasingly familiar with as the day of the entrance exam neared.
It didn't matter what she tried, Ume just couldn't find a way to calm herself down. Her heart was hammering in her chest at a mile a minute, and it wasn't just her hand—her entire body was shaking, and not from the cold, either. On top of all that, keeping her breathing even took a level of concentration and focus she wasn't sure she was capable of right now.
She'd managed to keep her mother from noticing until now, but her steps were far from steady. She was just so tired; it felt like she could trip over her feet any minute now, and keeping her eyelids open was a struggle in and of itself.
Ume was familiar with restless nights. Used to them, even. They were just another facet of her life. It was far from uncommon for her to have trouble sleeping. Whenever she closed her eyes, she was just as likely to open them calmly the next morning with the sun on the horizon as she was to jolt awake violently in the middle of the night with sweat on her brow and a scream on her lips.
Her nightmares had always been common—unpredictable, even—and she'd been plagued with them for as long as she'd been alive. But as the months had passed, as the entrance exam had edged ever closer, on top of occurring more frequently, they'd only gotten worse—worse than they'd ever been.
Half the time, she couldn't even remember what her dreams had been about. Only the feeling of dread lingering in the back of her mind let her know that they'd been there at all. Those she did remember, though, she genuinely wished she couldn't.
She had all kinds of dreams, about all sorts of things. None of them were ever pleasant.
It wasn't uncommon for her to dream of the past. Whenever she did, she'd dream of Gyutaro snarling and shouting at her as she pleaded and begged for him to save her before her body crumbled into dust, only to be blown away by the wind.
Other times, she would dream of fire. Something about the roaring and crackling of flames scared her even now. It was difficult for her to be near an open flame if it was any larger than a small candle flame, and even then, it still made her nervous and uncomfortable.
In those dreams, she'd hear herself screaming over the crackling of her skin as she was roasted alive, as scorching hot flames licked at her smoldering form until she could scream no more, until all she could do was gasp and choke as her lungs filled with acrid smoke. And if that wasn't enough, sometimes, she was even bound, hands and feet, and tied to a wooden post where all she could do was writhe.
Usually, the flames that consumed her in her dreams were bright orange. But, sometimes, they were a vivid red, instead. Other times, they were even bright pink.
Those bright pink flames in particular disturbed her like nothing else could. Every single time she dreamed of them, she would wake up screaming and crying, but right before she would, over the roar of the flames and sizzling of her skin, she would always hear the sound of giggling.
The memory alone was enough to make her shake.
And yet, those weren't even the worst nightmares she'd had. Not even close.
For as painful as it was to listen to her bother scream at her, as terrifying as it was to flake away as she was burned alive, those feelings she felt, those dreams she dreamed, they were nothing compared to the sense of dread and horror she felt whenever she dreamed of her mother.
Their only saving grace was that, compared to the others, they were rare. And for that, she was grateful. So, so undeniably grateful.
They were always more... subtle than the rest. Quieter, too. There wasn't any screaming, whether born of anger or pain, but that didn't make them any less horrifying.
Each time, it was just her, standing in a pitch-black void, utterly alone, as she stared down at her mother's broken, bloodied, and lifeless corpse.
It was always the eyes that were the worst part. They never failed to make her shiver—blank, dull, and full of disappointment and betrayal as they stared into her own.
And even though her mouth never moved, even though tears never flowed from her eyes, in her dream, Ume could always hear her mother sobbing.
Ume shivered, then wiped away a stray tear before it could streak down her cheek.
"Ume—"
"I'm fine!" she snapped, then immediately winced when the words came out far harsher than she'd intended.
"I'm fine," Ume said again, softer this time. "I'm just cold. I'm... sorry for yelling."
Her mother smiled. It didn't reach her eyes. "It's alright, Ume. There's nothing you need to be sorry for."
Ume honestly doubted her mother bought the paper-thin excuse, but at the very least, she didn't bring it up again.
It just made the pain in her heart worse.
She hated lying to her mother, she well and truly did. It was why she was so grateful for their talk a few months ago, despite how difficult it'd been. They'd finally let go and talked to one another—they'd screamed and cried, full of anger and sorrow, but in the end, they'd come out all the better—all the closer—for it. They didn't hide things—their thoughts, their feelings—from each other anymore. They talked to each other more often, as well.
But her nightmares—her past... She couldn't. She couldn't tell her. Would she even believe her, anyway? Maybe she would. But even if she did... What would she say? What would she do?
How would her mother react knowing that the person she thought she was was nothing more than a lie? How would she react knowing that, albeit in another life, Ume had eaten thousands of people and killed thousands more?
How would she react knowing that she was a monster, one whose only, sole regret was that she'd gotten her brother killed because she hadn't been strong enough?
No, it was better this way. Her mother thought her to be her darling baby girl. But she wasn't, no matter how much Ume wished she could be. And after everything she's done, all the people she's killed, she never would be, either. Not truly. But, she could pretend. She could let her mother believe she was exactly who she thought she was, that she was her sweet, innocent, kind, and caring daughter. And if she was lucky, she could fool herself into believing that lie, too, even if only for a moment.
After everything her mother had done for her, it was the least Ume could do.
Usually, when it came to her nightmares, Ume could eventually fall asleep after waking from one, so long as she could calm herself down.
Not after that one, though. Never after that one. When she'd finally awoken after what'd seemed like hours of listening to her mother's voice cry as she'd stared at her corpse, Ume hadn't even had the strength to scream. All she'd done was quietly sob as she'd trembled beneath her covers, waiting for the sun to rise.
She'd had another nightmare last night, as well. Though, blessedly, she hadn't remembered what she'd dreamed about. She'd tried to go back to sleep, she had. But with how frayed her nerves had been, with how worried she'd been over the entrance exam, all she'd accomplished was tossing and turning for an hour or so before she'd finally given up and gotten out of bed.
God, she was tired…
When she'd stumbled into the bathroom and stared into the mirror, the sight had actually made her flinch. For all her elegance and beauty, she'd looked like a corpse herself—beyond exhausted and worn down. She'd done her best to fix her appearance, to hide the bags beneath her eyes and the excessive pallor of her already pale skin, but all it'd take was a keen eye to see right through her.
These past ten months, Ume had worked harder than she had in her entire life. Every available waking hour had been spent dedicated to studying, to training, to making sure she'd pass that damn entrance exam. And yet, despite it all, she didn't even know if it'd all been enough. If it'd be enough.
Although, maybe it really would be. Maybe her mother was right; maybe there wasn't anything she needed to worry about. Whether it be by the skin of her teeth or with flying colors, maybe she really would pass her exam. She'd be able to live with a subpar test score, she supposed. So long as she passed. That was what truly mattered.
Then again, perhaps the opposite was true. Maybe she hadn't done enough, not nearly enough at all. Maybe she'd be handed a paper filled with questions she hadn't even thought to prepare for. Maybe she'd be outshined by the other applicants during the test. Maybe she was just too stupid to get a passing grade in the first place.
And the practical... There were just as many things that could go wrong there. Maybe the exam would be too difficult, or perhaps she'd be overshadowed by flashier or more powerful Quirks. And there was always the possibility that even after months, after years of honing her body for this very day, backed up by the type of skill and experience gained only through countless battles, throughout two separate lifetimes, she still wouldn't be strong enough.
She couldn't shake the feeling that something would go wrong, no matter how hard she tried to ignore it. One tiny mistake brought about by some small oversight. That would be all it'd take to ensure her failure was guaranteed.
If she were to fail...
That was a thought her mind kept returning to over and over again, flooding her mind with dread and anxiety each and every time.
What if she failed?
God, what if she failed?
She couldn't even stomach the thought.
Ume had to succeed here. And to that end, she would give everything she had, do everything in her power, use every single card up both her sleeves to make damn well sure that she passed.
Whether her best would truly be enough, though, would have to remain to be seen.
She just had to hope it was so.
She couldn't fail here. She wouldn't. She refused to.
God, she hoped she wouldn't...
She jumped suddenly when her mother seized her hand, capturing it in her warm, comforting grip. Ume glanced up, surprised, only to meet her understanding and reassuring gaze.
"It's okay to be nervous, you know," she said softly. "On a day like this, why wouldn't you be? I'd be nervous, too. I am, in fact."
At that, Ume's eyes shot wide open.
"You... You are?"
"Of course. Did you think I wouldn't be when you're about to take the entrance exam to one of the most prestigious high schools in the country? It's a big day for both of us, Ume, it's only natural that we're both nervous."
In hindsight, that made more than enough sense. And yet...
"You... don't look worried at all..."
Her mother smiled then, far more genuine than she had before. "It's because I won't let my fear control me, Ume. Just as I didn't let it control me when you told me you wanted to be a hero. Although, it also helps that I have quite a bit of experience when it comes to handling my nerves."
Ume blinked, confused. "Wait, really?"
Her mother nodded, an almost amused glint in her eyes. "Believe me, I know exactly how you feel. Studying medicine at university, even if I enjoyed it, was incredibly stressful, and equally difficult. With how much coursework I was assigned, and how many exams I had to take, most nights, I was stressed out of my mind."
"So, how did you deal with it?"
"Now that's quite the question," her mother huffed airily. "I'm sure if you had asked any of my coursemates, they'd have given you all kinds of answers, some far from healthy, and others just as ineffective. Personally... I think the best thing you can do is have some faith."
"Faith?"
"In yourself," she clarified gently. "You're nervous because you doubt yourself. You have every right to worry, but worry too much and it won't matter how ready you think you are. You could memorize every line in every book as if it were the back of your hand, but if you take that exam believing you'll fail, then failure is all you'll achieve."
Her mother came to a stop, and Ume halted along with her. She turned and took Ume's other hand into her own. Then, she smiled.
"You're ready, Ume. You've worked so hard for this, harder than I ever have. And every day I see how far you've come, my heart swells with pride. So don't doubt yourself, Ume, because you can do this, I promise you.
"I believe in you. All you need to do now is believe in yourself."
With those words, Ume's lips finally spread into a small, but no less happy, smile.
"Thank you, Mom," she sniffled softly. "Really, thank you. I… I swear, I'll…
"I swear, I'll make you proud."
Stepping inside the train station with her hand still intertwined with her mother's, the first thought to flash through Ume's mind was that it was loud. Far too loud.
She'd long grown used to the conveniences of modern technology, but even then, the sights and sounds of the world when compared to Edo, Meiji, or even Taisho Japan, were still somewhat jarring.
While the crowd around her was certainly annoying, that wasn't the problem. She'd lived in the Entertainment District of Yoshiwara for a hundred years, and she was more than familiar with large, bustling crowds.
It was that damn chime that blasted through her ears whenever an announcement rang through the speakers. Each time she heard it, Ume gritted her teeth and pressed her hands over her ears. She might have even tried to smash a few with her belts if she thought she'd get away with it, too.
The arriving trains grated on her already frayed nerves, as well. Compared to the old steam locomotives she'd once known, the newer express trains were, thankfully, far quieter. However, the sound they made as they came to a stop, their wheels grinding against the tracks with a shrill, ear-piercing shriek, was no less unbearable to listen to.
At least buying a ticket was a quick and easy process. Before she knew it, they'd gone through a line that'd moved far quicker than she'd expected it to, paid for their tickets, and then were left waiting for their trains to arrive.
Her own ticket clutched in her hands, Ume stared down at it with a frown.
Unfortunately, UA was on the other side of the city relative to where her mother worked, so they'd be taking separate trains, going in different directions. And according to the timetable on the platform display she was looking at, it wouldn't be long before they'd need to get going.
It wouldn't be long before their time together came to an end.
"I'll miss you," she blurted suddenly without thinking, and the look on her mother's face softened considerably.
"Oh, Ume. I'll miss you, too. I'll try not to stay away too long, okay?"
Instead of answering, Ume just stepped into her arms and hugged her. Her mother only chuckled endearingly, her own arms wrapping around her. It was enough to make her smile.
The moment was ruined when someone suddenly bumped into her.
Ume startled, a surprised grunt leaving her lips. She made to turn, ready to give whoever had interrupted them a piece of her mind before she froze, her eyes blown wide, when she felt a hand squeeze her ass.
Whoever had done it, their grip was weak, and their hand was smaller still—she could tell from the feeling alone, light as it'd been. She'd barely even felt it before it was gone.
"Oh, sorry," someone said from behind her, their voice young and sleazy, practically oozing insincerity. "Should've paid more attention to where I was going. My bad."
Ume schooled her expression, then disentangled herself from her mother's arms. Slowly, she turned around and came face to face with the one who'd dared to cop a feel.
That the creep was short—far shorter than she'd expected him to be—caught her off guard. So short, in fact, she needed to crane her neck to meet his eyes. He barely even reached her waist, but she doubted he was as young as his height made him out to be.
Other than that, however, the creep was utterly unremarkable—hideous, even. Chubby facial features, generic, dark-colored eyes, and a thin frame were all he boasted. The only thing that caught her eye were the sizable purple balls that grew on his head alongside his buzz-cut-length hair, which matched them in color.
The second she saw the expression on his face, one filled with barely hidden lust and arousal alongside the blush on his cheeks and the thin line of drool trailing down his chin, her expression filled with rage. She snarled at him silently, her fangs put on full display.
Immediately, the kid went pale, and she saw sweat form along his brow. His eyes were blown wide; all Ume could see within them was fear.
Maybe next time he'd think twice before trying to grope a girl, especially if that girl was her.
Still, the urge to carve him open and paint the ground red with his blood was overwhelming. Only her mother suddenly speaking up behind her made her stay her hand.
"Oh, please, don't apologize, it's quite alright," her mother said, oblivious to the thoughts running through her daughter's head. "Although, I would like to ask that you be more careful next time, okay?"
That seemed to snap him out of it, the kid glanced over at her mother, only for Ume's fury to rise to even greater heights—she sunk her nails into her palm hard enough to draw blood to keep herself from snapping.
'Don't even think about it,' she thought, her eyes zeroed in on his own. 'You so much as leer at her and a handful of severed fingers are going to be the least of your worries.'
"R-Right, I'm sorry! I-I'll try to be more careful," he barely managed to get out. "I-I'll be g-going now!"
"Oh, dear," Ume spoke up, her tone the very picture of innocence and concern, while her eyes burned with hatred. "You seem quite pale all of a sudden. Are you alright?"
The boy met her eyes yet again, and he seemed to pale even further if such a thing was possible.
"I-I'm okay, really!" he squeaked. "Sorry for bothering you!"
The creep didn't waste any more time; he turned on his heel and hurried away as quickly as his legs could carry him. Not once did her eyes stray from his escaping form.
"What a strange boy," her mother muttered.
Ume, on the other hand, wasn't content to just let him go. Certainly not after he'd built up the nerve to lay his filthy hands on her! But, sadly, her options were limited.
'I can't kill him,' she thought, frustrated. 'It doesn't matter how satisfying it'd be; there's too many people. If this had happened in some back ally—somewhere with few to no people—I would've already chopped him into pieces.'
Then, as the creep weaved through the crowd, for just a moment, something in his coat pocket caught her eye.
Ume didn't even try to keep the grin off of her face.
"Hey, Mom?" she asked suddenly. "When does your train leave again?"
"Hmm? Oh, just let me..." her mother began, but Ume tuned her out the second she averted her gaze.
One of her belts—smaller and thinner than they normally were—slithered out from underneath her coat, down her leg, and along the floor, before shooting in the direction that pervert had run. Honestly, what she trying to do was risky; her belts were colorful, vibrant, and easy to spot. If it weren't for the large crowd around them obscuring her actions, she wouldn't have been able to do this at all.
It didn't take long for her belt to reach him, and the second it'd wrapped around the item in his pocket, she reeled it back in, wrapping it around her waist underneath her coat as quickly as she could.
Ume's grin widened.
Not a single soul had noticed.
'How long will it be before he realizes, I wonder?'
"...to get going," her mother finished, and Ume blinked as she returned her attention to her.
"Sorry," she said apologetically, a sheepish smile on her face. "Could you repeat that, please?"
Her mother huffed, but the smile of her own on her face made it clear she wasn't bothered.
"I said: I have to get going. My train is scheduled to leave in a few minutes."
Ume froze. "Oh..."
"And so do you," her mother added, pointing at the schedule on the display screen above them. "Unless you want to miss your train, that is."
"No, no, I..." Ume sighed, frustrated beyond belief, but she knew there was nothing she could do about it. "I'll see you at home?"
"Of course." They hugged one last time, but right before Ume could pull away, her mother pulled her close and whispered into her ear.
"Good luck, Ume. I know I've said this already, but you can do it. Just try your best."
"I will," Ume replied. "I swear, I will."
"I know. There's not a single doubt in my mind."
"Don't... Don't work too hard, okay?"
Her mother laughed, an angelic sound that put her at ease. "I'll try not to. You have my word. Goodbye, Ume."
"Bye, Mom. I love you."
"I love you too, Ume. Now run along before you really do miss your train."
Doing as her mother bid, Ume turned away, and already she could feel the longing in her heart.
"You can't be serious!"
The shout reached her ears—sharp and shrill—despite the volume of the crowd. She turned towards the source, only for a smirk to cross her face, her gaze having landed on the same idiot from before, the ugly purple balls on his head making him stand out from the crowd, his laughable height aside.
The kid was speaking to a conductor, or perhaps one of the ticket agents—she couldn't tell them apart, honestly. And though he was turned away from her, his body language gave him away.
He was absolutely terrified.
Her grin only widened at the sight.
"I'm sorry, sir," the conductor began with a grimace, "but if you've lost your ticket, then short of directing you to the ticket booth where you might purchase another, there's nothing I can do for you."
"But I can't do that!" the boy shrieked, the despair in his tone like music to her ears. "I don't have enough money to buy another! And my train's about to leave soon—I don't have time to run home and grab more!"
"Then, I'm afraid you'll simply have to catch the next one."
"I can't wait that long! I have to be at UA before nine o'clock; that's when I'm supposed to take the entrance exam! If I miss this train, then it'll be too late! Please, there's gotta be something you can do!"
The conductor sighed, the bridge of her nose pinched between her fingers in an obvious sign of frustration.
"Sir, allow me to be frank. If you've lost your ticket and lack the funds to replace it, then no, there really isn't anything I can do for you. Next time, perhaps, you'll exhibit a level of caution befitting a hero student, especially one hoping to attend a school as prestigious as UA."
As Ume walked past them, her belt loosened around her waist before it slithered out from underneath her coat, still wrapped around the boy's ticket, along with the receipt that came with it.
'Minoru Mineta, huh?' she thought as her eyes curiously scanned his ticket. 'An ugly name for an ugly little boy. How fitting.'
Satisfied, she gripped both his ticket and the receipt before she promptly tore them to pieces. Once she was done, she opened her palm, and the scraps of paper drifted to the floor.
'I guess he won't get to become a hero after all. What a pity... If only he'd thought twice before laying a hand on me... Oh well.'
With that bit of amusement done and over with, Ume resumed her stride, leaving him to wallow in his misery as his quiet, yet no less devastated cries slowly faded into the distance.
After all, unlike the perv, she still had a train to catch.
With a sea of examinees surrounding him on all sides, Izuku Midoriya stumbled to a stop just past UA's gate, then promptly hunched over in a fit of exhaustion, the only thing keeping him from collapsing to the ground being his hands over his knees.
His legs trembled from the effort of keeping him upright alone, and his lungs burned with every breath. The sweat running down his brow stung at his eyes, and his heart beat against his ribcage with a fury unending.
And yet, he couldn't help but feel relieved.
'I made it,' he thought. 'I actually made it... Oh, thank goodness... That was... cutting it a little too close...'
After a minute of trying, and mostly failing, to catch his breath, Midoriya pushed himself up, his gaze landing upon UA High School in all its glory.
He gulped, his exhaustion forgotten in the place of his worry.
Though he'd made it in time, and thus hadn't ruined his chances before the exam had even begun, that did little to soothe his nervousness, what with the all too real possibility of taking and failing the exam altogether, anyway.
Still, he hardened his heart as best he could before he forced his trembling legs to move. He plunged headlong into the crowd of students, nervously clutching at the straps of his backpack.
His mind soon began to wander, and his thoughts returned to the events that'd taken place that very same morning, not all that long ago.
Honestly, even now he was still having trouble convincing himself that this wasn't just a dream.
After all, when All Might—the Number One Hero—approached him—just a wimpy, Quirkless middle-schooler—and offered him the chance of inheriting his legendary power so he could finally fulfill his dream of being a hero, what else could it have been?
That'd been ten months ago now, the day he'd been judged worthy. And today, after months of hard work under All Might's watchful eye, he'd finally been deemed ready.
Today, the power that had made All Might into the hero he was had finally been bestowed upon him: His Quirk—One For All.
Even now the memory was enough to make him gag, and Midoriya raised a hand to cover his mouth lest the sudden bout of nausea gave him the urge to vomit.
Don't get him wrong, Midoriya was honored and beyond ecstatic! Inheriting All Might's power was something out of his wildest dreams! He'd forever be grateful for the opportunity!
It's just... well, it hadn't really gone down the way he'd been expecting. Then again, he wasn't sure what he'd been expecting in the first place anyway, so he probably shouldn't have been so surprised when All Might had plucked a strand of hair from his scalp before presenting it to him with a proud, eager, and beaming smile.
"Eat this!"
How All Might had said that with a straight face, Midoriya didn't think he'd ever be able to figure out.
Then again, if he'd only take a moment to think about it, he'd realize that swallowing a strand of hair had been the least disgusting option they'd had available. At least he hadn't needed to swallow a drop of sweat, or worse yet, saliva.
The less said of... other bodily fluids, the better.
Doing a quick blood transfusion might not have been quite so bad, but the absence of any clean syringes or capable doctors on hand would've made that a bad idea.
So, they'd gone with the hair.
Midoriya suppressed a shudder, then glanced down at his hands curiously.
Even though he'd swallowed the hair, and thus had supposedly inherited All Might's power, he still didn't feel any different. It made his insecurities bubble up and doubt cloud his mind, but it did make sense if he thought about it for a moment.
All Might had told him that, since he'd swallowed the hair, his stomach would need to finish digesting his DNA before his body could process and store One For All, after which, he'd finally be able to use it.
Unfortunately, that was going to take some time. Time Midoriya wasn't all that sure he could afford.
He supposed he'd have to cross his fingers and hope the hair would finish digesting before the practical exam began. And failing that, getting the power in the middle of the exam, while far from ideal, would at least give him a fighting chance.
If the power came in after—if he were forced to take the exam essentially Quirkless, then... He didn't know what he'd do.
He hoped it wouldn't come to that.
"Stupid Deku..."
The sudden voice startled him, and he whirled, only for his dark green eyes to lock with angry, bright red orbs, belonging to one scowling Katsuki Bakugo. Or Kacchan, as he liked to call him.
Kacchan was a boy his age with a blonde head of hair that stuck out in all directions, almost as if a bomb had gone off, which was ironic since he'd also been lucky enough to have been blessed with a powerful explosion Quirk. And naturally, he possessed a temper and an ego to match.
"Get out of my way right now, you damn nerd, or I'll set you on fire!"
They'd been childhood friends once. Although the friend part was... debatable at this point. Still, they didn't live all that far apart and attended the same school, and they'd practically known one another since they'd been in diapers. Because of that, Midoriya had learned that whenever Bakugo made a threat, chances were, he was more than willing—and able—to follow it up.
That said, he scrambled out of the way as quickly as he could.
"Oh, K-Kacchan! Um, hey, good morning!" he said frantically as he waved his arms in front of his face. "L-Let's just do our best out there, okay? G-Good luck!"
Bakugo had done all kinds of things to him over the years—nothing too serious, all things considered—but unpleasant things all the same. Insults were frequent, but Bakugo got physical with him pretty often, as well.
Whenever that happened, bruises and burns—courtesy of his Quirk—were common. He'd often be shoved or tripped as well, but rarely would it get any worse than that.
It was his belongings that suffered the most, his uniform included, which he'd been forced to replace countless times during his tenure at Aldera Middle School. His desk was often covered with insults, and occasionally death threats, too—which were either scrawled atop his desk with a marker or carved into the wood with something sharp. The sad thing was, his teachers also didn't like him much, so they were all too willing to pin the blame on him—as if he would actually vandalize his own possessions for something as shallow as attention—letting his classmates get off scot-free. His backpack and other school supplies weren't spared either; once, he'd even been forced to dig his pack out of the trash when someone had thrown it into the bin. However, those acts were predominantly committed by his other classmates rather than Bakugo, who, if it wasn't clear already, weren't very fond of him, either.
The worst thing Bakugo had ever done to him had actually happened on the very same day he'd met All Might in person for the first time. He'd gone and ruined the 13th edition of his "Hero Analysis for the Future" notebooks—filled with information on quite a few heroes and their Quirks so that he might use that information to become a hero himself one day—before he'd chucked it out the window of the classroom. After that, he'd gone and, well...
"If you really want a Quirk so bad, there's a quick way to do it. Pray for a Quirk in your next life, and take a swan dive off the roof of the building!"
He never would've gone through with it, of course, but the fact that he'd even said it had been horrible enough.
Recently, however, Bakugo had been going easy on him.
And just like he'd done for the past ten months, Bakugo just walked past him without even sparing him a second glance.
This time around, he supposed he'd only been scared out of habit.
Nevertheless, his little freakout had drawn some attention from some of the other examinees, and already Midoriya could see recognition fill their eyes as soon as their gazes landed on Bakugo.
"Hey, is it just me, or is that blonde kid sort of familiar?"
"Huh? Oh, him. I think his name's Bakugo. He was in the news a while back. Apparently, he held of that sludge villain long enough for All Might to arrive and defeat him."
"Oh, yeah, I think I remember that. That's really him?"
"Sure is. Believe me, he's the real deal."
Midoriya was there that day, and it was his fault Bakugo had gotten caught in the first place, something he was still deeply ashamed of.
He'd actually run into the sludge villain before Bakugo had, beneath an overpass on his way home from school. He'd been preoccupied with his thoughts, so he hadn't heard the nearby manhole burst open. It was only when he'd been engulfed in slimy sewage that he'd realized what was happening, but by then, it'd been too late.
If it hadn't been for All Might, Midoriya would've died that day, with the villain forcing himself down his throat. In the end, he'd even fainted. But when he'd woken up, it'd been to the villain secured in an empty, two-liter soda bottle, and All Might furiously slapping his cheek.
Naturally, being the massive hero fanboy that he was, Midoriya had promptly freaked out. The autograph he'd received from the Number One Hero had only added fuel to the fire and nearly made his poor heart explode.
But, when All Might had turned to leave, Midoriya hadn't been able to let him go, not so soon. Ever since he'd been a kid, there'd been a question burning inside of him, one he'd desperately needed to ask, to get an answer to.
So, when All Might had turned to jump away, Midoriya had, rather stupidly, grabbed onto his leg. They'd quickly touched down on a nearby rooftop, but the short-lived experience had been one of the most terrifying of his life.
The bottle had probably slipped from All Might's grasp while they'd been in the air, and Bakugo had most likely stumbled across the villain from there.
The only reason he'd known what'd been happening was because he'd recognized the sounds of Bakugo's explosions as he'd tried to fight back, so he'd run towards them as fast as his legs had been able to carry him.
At first, he'd hung back, on the other side of the barrier the responding heroes had set up, trusting them to save his friend's life.
Except, they hadn't. They'd barely done anything at all.
Backdraft—a fire-fighter-themed Rescue Hero with a water Quirk—had been too busy keeping the onlooking civilians back, all while fighting the fires started by Bakugo's Quirk.
Those same fires had hindered Kamui Woods—a relatively new hero at the time with a Quirk that allowed him to grow and manipulate his body parts as if they were tentacles-like branches—who'd been preoccupied with saving trapped civilians. Unfortunately, a large portion of the hero's body was made of wood—a mutation resulting from his Quirk—which made him vulnerable to the roaring flames, limiting his ability to help.
They'd done their best, so Midoriya couldn't blame them, but the rest—Death Arms, Slugger, Mt. Lady?
They'd just stood there and watched.
All the while, Bakugo had fought for his life, struggling to get just one more breath of air as he'd slowly choked to death.
He'd spotted All Might in the crowd, and he'd felt a spark of hope then, that he would swoop in and save Bakugo just as he had saved him, but then, it'd hit him.
All Might's time limit had been used up by then.
There hadn't been a thing he could've done.
Midoriya had learned about it earlier that day—it was part of the reason All Might had offered to bestow his power upon him. After being injured in a fight with a villain several years back, the amount of time All Might could use his Quirk had begun to wane.
By the time they'd first met, he'd already been down to around three hours per day, spending the rest of his time in a weak, withered, and deflated form. That was actually the reason he'd been looking for a successor in the first place.
So, he'd sat there, despair coiling around his heart when he'd realized he'd be forced to watch his friend die.
But then, through the smoke and the flames, he and Bakugo had locked eyes.
And before he'd known what he was even doing, his legs had begun to move all on their own, carrying him into the midst of danger so that he might save his friend.
That was the second time he'd almost died that day, and it was the second time All Might had saved him, as well.
Because of him, he'd been told, All Might had pushed past his limit to save them both. And it was that reckless, yet genuine heroic intent that had inspired him—that had convinced him that he'd been wrong when he'd told him earlier that day that, without a Quirk, he would never be a hero.
And it was then that his question had finally been answered.
He'd told Midoriya that he could be a hero. He'd told him that he was worthy of being his successor.
Once all had been said and done, he'd been shouted at and scolded by more than a few of the other heroes on the scene—Death Arms in particular had been quite vocal about how stupid what he'd done had been—but he hadn't felt any shame at all, because, in the end, his friend had survived.
Bakugo had caught up to him later that very same day, and unsurprisingly, had yelled at him, saying that he hadn't needed any help from a Quirkless loser like him, that he wouldn't even make it as a rent-a-cop, etcetera. Stuff like that.
And yet, despite those hurtful words, Bakugo hadn't touched him since. And so, Midoriya knew that, even though he hadn't explicitly said it, deep down, Bakugo was grateful for what he'd done, for what he'd tried to do. Or, that's what he'd like to think, at least.
Truthfully, Midoriya had no idea what was going through Bakugo's head, not even on the best of days.
'Though, I guess old habits really do die hard,' he supposed as he fought to calm his racing heart. 'He hasn't done anything since last year, and still, one harsh glare is enough to make me flinch...'
That being said, Bakugo's sudden change of heart wasn't the only thing that'd changed.
He wasn't defenseless anymore.
While he may not have had a Quirk just yet, that would soon change, as well. And even then, after all the training and hard work he'd put in, he wasn't the same weak and scraggy-looking kid he'd been back then.
He wasn't a useless Deku anymore, no matter that Bakugo still called him that!
The fear that'd surged within him melted away, and as his legs finally stopped trembling and his heart rate slowed, a small, confident smile plastered itself on his face.
'Thanks to All Might,' he thought proudly, 'I'm actually going to be a hero!'
"Move it, moron!"
And then he was falling, hurtling towards the ground face-first after a harsh shove to the ribs knocked him off his feet.
'Or, I'll just die...'
That was his last thought before the world went dark.
Although, strangely, the burst of pain he'd expected to feel cracking his head open against the pavement never came, and neither did the blissful unawareness that would have followed.
He could feel the cool breeze against his face and the clothes on his back, and the traffic from the students around him still reached his ears uninterrupted. Although, he did feel strangely weightless all of a sudden in a way he couldn't really explain.
So then, why was it— Oh, wait, he'd just closed his eyes. That explained it.
Hesitantly, he peeled them open, only to nearly have a heart attack when he saw just how close he'd come to hitting the ground. A broken nose probably would've been the least of his worries, and he couldn't keep himself from heaving a massive sigh of relief.
It was then that he realized that he'd suddenly, and quite literally, frozen in midair. His gaze dropped downward, toward his legs, and sure enough, he was right. Somehow, he'd been suspended in the air, which left him floating parallel to the ground.
And yet, there was only a single question floating through his mind:
How?
The last he'd checked, he'd been Quirkless, possessing not even an ounce of power! And so, being Quirkless, he wasn't supposed to be able to fly!
Had he really had a Quirk all along? Had his entire life been nothing more than a lie?
He wasn't sure how he was meant to feel right now...
"Oh my god! Are you okay? You're not hurt, are you?"
Startled for the second time at a sudden voice, Midoriya craned his neck, only to come face to face with a young girl his age. Her brown hair was styled into a bob-cut, which framed her rounded face. Her cheeks were flushed red, and her eyes, the same shade of brown as her hair, held anger and concern in equal measure.
Those same eyes looked him up and down, and when she saw that he was alright, if a little shaken, she breathed a sigh of relief.
"I stopped you with my Quirk," she explained, her smile vaguely sheepish. "I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable; I just didn't want to see you get hurt. Here, let me help you up!"
With two gentle hands—one on his shoulder and the other on his back—she set him down on his feet. As soon as he was upright, she placed her hands together—the tips of her fingers made contact—and suddenly, that weightless feeling disappeared, grounding him again.
'Wait a minute... Oh, I see! When she touched me, she removed gravity's effect on me entirely!' he realized. 'That's how I was able to float in midair! And the effect vanished as soon as she pressed her fingers together—so it's probably a five-point activation Quirk, too! What an incredible power, even without knowing its limitations or drawbacks!'
"You really think so? Thank you!"
Midoriya froze, utterly mortified. "You... heard all that?"
For a moment, she seemed confused, judging by the oddly cute tilt of her head, before realization flashed in her eyes and she giggled sympathetically. "Oh, I guess you didn't mean to say all that out loud, huh? Whoops!"
This was it. He was going to die here, struck down by a bout of embarrassment with an intensity never before seen. It was a good run.
Goodbye, cruel world!
"Oh, come on, don't be embarrassed!" the girl giggled cheerfully. "I thought it was sweet! And I appreciate the compliment, really!"
He was digging his grave deeper and deeper, wasn't he?
But, someone who didn't think his muttering was creepy for once. That was... nice of her.
"Hey, are you sure you're okay?"
The question snapped him out of his thoughts, and Midoriya nearly jumped he was so startled. "O-Oh, uh, y-yeah! I'm alright!" he stammered, his cheeks aflame with embarrassment. "S-Sorry, I'm just really nervous right now. Really, thank you for saving me; you didn't have to, so I appreciate it!"
"Glad to hear it," she said with a smile. Then, she suddenly frowned, the anger he'd seen earlier returning to the forefront of her expression with a vengeance. "I still can't believe someone could do something like that!"
"Huh?" He blinked. "What do you mean?"
"That girl!" she explained, her voice nearing a shout. "She just pushed you out of nowhere! And she called you a moron while she was at it, too! I mean, who does that?"
"Wait, girl? What girl?"
"Didn't you see her?" His savior looked down the path and pointed. "That one there!"
Midoriya followed her gaze and, sure enough, there was the girl she was talking about, ascending the stairs to the building's entrance. She was turned away from them both, so he couldn't see her face, but the striking white hair that flowed down her back caught his eyes almost immediately.
Then she was gone, having disappeared inside with the door slamming shut behind her.
"O-Oh! I-I mean, I'm sure it's fine," he said softly, his gaze dropping to his feet. "I was probably just standing in her way..."
"Wait, are you actually defending her?"
"N-No, it's just... If I hadn't stood in the middle of the path like..." 'Like a moron,' he didn't say. "Well, maybe she wouldn't have felt the need to push me... So, it's probably my fault, that's all..."
"What? No, it's not!" came the harsh rebuttal. "Look at how wide the path is; she could've just gone around you!"
Well, she was right, he supposed, considering over a dozen people could stand shoulder to shoulder and still leave room to spare, but that was beside the point.
"If you ask me, she only shoved you because she wanted to, or she felt like she could get away with it! She's just a bully who enjoys picking on people, plain and simple!"
"Well... I guess so," he acquiesced.
He didn't necessarily agree with her—he was certain that if he'd just kept walking instead of standing around, he wouldn't have gotten shoved in the first place—but he could tell that he wouldn't be able to convince her of that any time soon.
So, he changed the subject.
"O-Oh, by the way, uh... What was your name again?"
"Oh!" the girl exclaimed, her earlier anger forgotten in the face of pleasantries. "Sorry, I forgot to tell you! I'm Uraraka! Ochaco Uraraka! But you can call me Ochaco if you want."
"M-My name's M-Midoriya," he stammered, her forwardness forcing a blush to his cheeks. "Izuku Midoriya. I, uh... You can call me Izuku, too... But only if you want to! I mean, uh..."
She giggled at the look on his face, a hand held over her mouth. "Sure! Nice to meet you, Izuku! So, you ready to head inside?"
"Uh, s-sure!"
"Great! Come on, let's go! I don't think either of us wants to be late, huh?"
"Y-Yeah, no kidding."
"So, how do you think you'll do? Are you worried about the written exam? I know I am!"
"Well, a little… But it's the practical I'm more concerned about…"
Walking side by side, chatting away with one another with cheerful smiles spreading their lips, Midoriya soon forgot that he'd even been nervous at all.
Kirishima walked through the halls of UA with a feeling in his gut he couldn't readily describe.
His countenance was set into a barely suppressed grimace, with beads of nervous sweat gathering on the edge of his brow. Wrapping his hand tightly around the strap of his backpack was the only thing that kept it from shaking.
It didn't matter how many breaths he took to calm himself down—nothing seemed to work.
Ashido, at least, with that perpetual smile on her face, was a calming presence at his side. She seemed to sway with every step, dancing lightly to some imaginary tune, her hands held playfully behind her back. Or so he thought, anyway. It was all too possible she really was humming something. Although, with how loudly his blood was rushing in his ears, he couldn't exactly tell.
If it weren't for her, he imagined he'd be far less calm than he already was.
They'd received their examinee cards as soon as they'd stepped through the door—their numbers were one after the other, so chances were, they'd be sat beside one another—and were now trying to navigate this maze of a school and find the orientation room.
So far, UA had blown every expectation he'd had clear out of the water. They hadn't been here for long, and already awe bloomed in his chest. His eyes flicked about the hall they were in, taking in every exciting detail.
And if they actually managed to pass, they'd be returning here nearly every day of the week for the foreseeable future.
The thought brought a brief smile to his face, which melted away as his nerves took hold of him once more.
If they managed to pass. If—not when.
Kirishima felt he'd done all he could to prepare for the exam. He'd trained his body and mind both, honed them to the max in the time they'd had available. He was as ready as can be; Ashido's constant encouragement and reassurance only cemented that fact.
But now that he was actually here, walking through UA's halls, his insecurities had come rushing right back. They'd grabbed on tight and refused to let go.
'You've done all you can,' he reassured himself. 'You can do this. Ashido believes in you. So don't let her down just because you're scared.'
He'd give it his all, that he'd vow. He would answer every question as best he could and face whatever the practical threw at them head-on.
He just really hoped his best would be enough.
"Hey, Eijiro! You in there?"
The sudden elbow to his ribs made him yelp, and he whirled to face Ashido, who had an impish smile on her face.
"Ow! What the heck was that for?"
"There we go!" she snickered. "You weren't responding at all. I was starting to get worried, you know!"
"Oh, sorry. Were you saying something?"
She snickered again. "Yeah, Eijiro, I was."
Kirishima frowned guiltily. "I'm really sorry, Mina. Guess I got lost in my thoughts."
"Don't sweat it, dude! Really, it's fine!" She grinned suddenly, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "But, you must've been thinking real hard there, huh?"
"Uh... What makes you say that?" he asked, just as confused as he was nervous.
She threw a thumb over her shoulder, down the hall from where they'd come. "Because you walked right past where we were supposed to go."
"Huh?"
It was only then that he realized there was no one else in the hallway with them. He whirled, and sure enough, all the other students were walking into a room he'd somehow gone right past without even noticing.
"Oh, crap!"
Another elbow to the ribs rid him of his shock.
"Come on, slowpoke!" Mina cried. "Before we're really late!" Then she took off at a run, leaving him in the dust.
Eijiro growled and took off after her. "How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that?!"
All that answered him was Mina's gleeful laughter.
They practically shoved themselves through the doorway one after the other, much to the chagrin of some of the other test-takers.
"Sorry," he apologetically threw over his shoulder before he returned to chasing down Ashido.
He caught up to her further inside the room, and only because she, the absolute height of benevolence, had deigned to wait for him.
Truly, he was honored.
"So," she said after he stopped beside her. "Where are we sitting?"
"Didn't we have our seating placement on our cards?"
"Oh, right! Whoops!" She pulled hers out and thrust it in his face. "So, where's this?"
He snatched her card from her hand, then shot her the most unimpressed look he could manage.
All it earned him was a blown raspberry.
"Just give me a second." He glanced at her card, then back at his own. "Oh, looks like I was right. We're sitting next to each other."
"Yes!" Ashido let out a loud whoop, followed by an equally loud cheer. "That's great! Do you know where we need to go?"
"I'm working on it. I think it's... Whoa."
When he finally looked up and saw the room they were, presumably, going to take the test in, it wasn't inaccurate to say that it stole the breath from his lungs. It couldn't even compare to any of the classrooms from his middle school. If anything, it reminded him more of a movie theater than a classroom, albeit one repurposed for desk work.
For one, the room was large. Very large—probably large enough to hold a few hundred people all at once. The floors, the walls—practically the entire room was covered in darker colors, ranging from gray to black. The rows of seats were organized exactly as they'd be in a movie theater, too, all of them facing a massive screen that'd been mounted behind the stage. Up above, dozens of lights lit up the room, guaranteeing clear visibility for the entirety of the exam.
"Holy shit... This place is insane..." Ashido mumbled beside him, just as amazed as he was. "And if we pass... we'll actually go to school here... Oh my god, that'd be so damn cool...!"
Well, he couldn't really disagree with that.
"C-Come on," he said after getting a hold of himself. "I'm pretty sure we're somewhere over here."
"Lead on, my loyal servant!"
He shot her a look, noting the amusement in her eyes. "Is that what I am now?"
"Yup!" she said. "Until we get to our seats, at least."
His exasperated grumbles only made her laugh, but even then, he couldn't stop himself from smiling.
It didn't take them too long to find their seats. Since they were numbered along the side, all he had to do was keep going until he found his own. They ended up being on the left side of the room from the stage and somewhere in the middle.
But, when they finally got to their seats, Kirishima stopped dead in his tracks.
Ashido evidently hadn't been paying much attention, since she slammed right into him, smushing her face into his back. "Oof! Hey, why'd you stop? Is this where we're supposed to..." There was a moment of silence followed by a frustrated, and almost defeated, sigh. "You've gotta be kidding me..."
The second those words left her mouth, Ume Shabana, who just so happened to be sitting directly next to their assigned seats, looked up curiously, only for her expression to turn sour when her gaze fell upon them.
"What the hell are you two doing here?" she snarled, her fangs bared.
"We're taking the entrance exam," Kirishima retorted, his eyes narrowed. "Why else would we be here?"
He hadn't known exactly how she'd react to that information, but he'd had a few ideas.
Bursting into hysterical laughter, though... hadn't crossed his mind. Not at all.
It embarrassed him for some reason, getting his ambitions mocked like that. He couldn't help the way his cheeks began to burn or the way he tore his gaze away. The fact that her laughter seemed entirely involuntary only made it worse.
She tried to press her lips together, to stifle her sudden outburst with a hand over her mouth, but in the end, she only started laughing harder. He chanced a glance at her face and immediately regretted it.
Her mouth was wide open, her lips stretched wide, and her fangs put on full display. Her head was thrown back as peals of laughter left her throat, and her cheeks were dusted red from her bout of hilarity.
There were even tears in her eyes—tears of laughter.
Was it really that funny?
He didn't get it.
What was so funny about someone just trying to follow their dream?
Not even Ashido mustered the courage to say anything, but even then, he couldn't place how she was feeling. Was she angry? Or was she just as humiliated as he was?
Eventually, her laughter began to die down and eventually ceased altogether. Yet she still snickered and giggled sporadically, the corners of her eyes crinkled from mirth.
"W-Wow," she eventually said, idly wiping away her tears. "I honestly can't believe it. You're actually serious—both of you!"
"Of course we are," Ashido finally spoke up, her voice soft, yet no less angry. "We wouldn't be here otherwise."
"You two never cease to amaze me," Shabana snickered. "Are you sure you're both in the right room? You must've missed the sign outside—this is the Hero Course exam, if you didn't know. The General Education exam is back down the hall. Well, not that it'd matter; I don't see either of you passing, anyway."
"We're right where we need to be, Shabana," he said, his voice hard despite the anxiety thrumming through his veins. "Lay off."
Her merriment was gone in an instant, and those eyes of hers, oddly pretty and yet no less terrifying, were locked onto his own, sending a shiver down his spine.
"I'd watch your words if I were you," she hissed, her voice low and dangerous. "I'll do whatever I damn well please. Or have you grown a spine since then, since the last time you tried standing up to me?"
He didn't say anything—he couldn't. It was all he could do to keep himself from looking away.
A beat passed, then two... And then she smiled, her eyes alight with cruel satisfaction.
"You haven't changed at all," she declared confidently. "You're the same scared little boy you were back then. You're shaking in your boots—quite literally at that, too."
She flicked her gaze down from his face, and he followed it, only for his own to land on his trembling hand held by his side. He clenched his fist to force himself to stop, but it was too little too late.
"You don't think you can do this, can you?"
Kirishima froze.
Her grin only widened.
"I knew it! Well, I suppose I should give you a little credit, you're not as stupid as I thought you were. Then again, that's not exactly a high bar to clear—being brighter than Ashido, I mean." She giggled. "Although, there is one thing I'm curious about...
"Why are you even here?"
"What are you talking about?" he asked hesitantly, his voice soft, barely audible over the roar of those around them.
Shabana heard him just fine.
"Well, it's just that... You already know you're not good enough," she cooed, her voice almost soothing if not for the words spilling from her lips, laced with cruelty and malice. "So, why not just give up—spare yourself the trouble? I mean, you're going to fail anyway, aren't you? So why bother?"
"Knock it off," he heard Ashido growl, but whereas before it'd taken all he'd had to keep meeting Shabana's gaze, now he found he couldn't look away.
To his great shame... he actually considered it.
So convincing were her words—sweet like honey, and yet filled with poisonous rot—that, for a brief moment, he actually considered giving up.
After all, if he didn't think he could do it, then...
"Eijiro! Don't listen to her!"
Ashido's words snapped him out of it, a comforting hand against his shoulder.
It made him remember—all the work he'd done, all the effort he'd put in to get to where he was now, and all the time he'd spent with Ashido, the time they'd spent lifting each other up.
He was stronger than he'd once been. Smarter, too. And it was only because they'd worked together. That she'd taken that first step and extended a hand in invitation, he would be forever thankful.
And he'd been about to throw it all away, and for what?
Kirishima stopped trembling.
"I'm not going to give up, Shabana," he said, his voice steadier than it'd been all day. "I'm going to take this exam, and I'm going to pass."
Ashido's hand on his shoulder slackened from relief, while at the same time, the look on Shabana's face soured all over again.
"Don't make me laugh," she snarled bitterly. "I'm sure you'll try—you've got idiotic stubbornness written all over you—but mark my words, all you'll manage to do is fail."
"We'll see about that."
Shabana snorted, then turned away clearly done with them. "I can't wait to see the looks on your faces when it turns out I was right."
Kirishima turned to take his seat, but Ashido beat him to it. She all but surged forward, stealing his seat out from under him.
It just so happened that his seat had been the one right next to Shabana.
He shot her a look, questioning and pleading all in one.
All she did was smile sadly, then gestured towards what'd been her seat with a subtle tilt of her head.
With gratitude in his eyes, Kirishima fell into it with a stifled sigh, feeling as if he could fall into bed and sleep through the rest of the day from that one interaction alone.
"You okay?" Ashido softly whispered into his ear.
"I think so," he whispered back. "Or at least I will be. Are you sure you don't want to sit here? This was supposed to be your seat, you know."
She waved him off with a quiet laugh. "I think I'll be fine; I can sit beside her for a few hours. Besides, with you two sharing the same class, I think you've had enough of her to last a lifetime."
He couldn't keep himself from chuckling along with her.
"Thanks for sticking up for me, by the way," he said earnestly. "I appreciate it."
Ashido frowned, something like guilt creeping over her face. She shook her head. "Don't thank me for that—I barely even said anything. I could've done way more."
"Hey, don't sell yourself short. You helped more than you think you did. Besides, it's not like anyone else stuck up for me."
She sighed, one of frustration and resignation. "If you say so. Then, I guess you're welcome."
He matched her hesitant smile with a toothy grin of his own.
"We're gonna pass this thing," he declared to her. "I know we will."
"Yeah," Ashido finally said, matching his smile. "We are. Good luck?"
"Yeah, good luck," he said with a chuckle." God knows I'll need it."
"If the exam turns out to be as hard as I think it'll be, I think both of us will."
It wasn't long before the last of the empty seats were filled in, and the explanation of the exam began in earnest.
The written exam was up first—a packet of several papers containing various questions and assignment types, divided into several different topics which they would have an hour and a half to complete. They went over the rules—as if Kirishima would even think about cheating on something as important as this—then answered whatever questions anyone had.
Once all was said and done, the exam was handed out in earnest.
"You can do this, Eijiro," Ashido whispered to him.
"So can you, Mina," he whispered back.
The anxiety that'd plagued him had vanished entirely. He could do this, both of them could—there wasn't a doubt in his mind.
When the proctors finally gave the go-ahead, he quickly got to work. He went through the exam swiftly, but not so much so that he'd miss something. He read every question carefully, answered what he could, and if he came across something he couldn't figure out, he just moved on for the time being.
It was immediately evident that he wouldn't get a perfect score. But, as the exam dragged on, Kirishima felt confidence bloom in his chest, and he wondered why he'd even been nervous in the first place.
He wouldn't get a perfect score, but... He would pass. Of that, he was certain.
But neither he nor Ashido noticed how Shabana's hand began to tremble.
"Alright, time's up! Stop writing! Pencils down, everybody! Please remain seated while we make the rounds and collect your papers!"
The moment the shout rang across the room, Ume's pen slipped from her still-trembling hand and hit the desk with a light thud. The reactions from those around her were mixed as far as she could tell—relieved sighs and frustrated groans filling her ears.
She watched with resignation and a heavy feeling in her gut as several proctors went about collecting the exams. One of them flashed her a hopeful smile as hers was raised from her desk, and she resisted the urge to glare, scream, or cry, settling for a blank stare that brought a frown to their face.
Already, conversation bloomed around her, students asking their friends and the strangers around them how they thought they'd done. Their answers ranged from hopeful or confident to resigned or defeated. She even thought she heard someone crying over the noise, and if nothing else, it cheered her up a bit to know someone had likely done as poorly as she had.
Because she had done poorly—she had to have. There was nary a doubt in her mind.
The test had started out fine—great, even. Ume had breezed through the first set of questions with a speed that had surprised even her. But as she'd delved deeper, answered more questions, she'd realized that it'd seemed... easy. Way too easy. Impossibly easy, in fact.
Once she'd realized, she'd... She'd started shaking. And she hadn't been able to get herself to stop.
In the short time allotted, Ume must've gone over the test at least a dozen times, rereading questions she had to have misunderstood and checking the answers to those she must've gotten wrong.
It just didn't make sense.
She'd just taken the UA entrance exam—albeit only the written portion so far—which was notorious for its difficulty and high failure rate. It was widely recognized as one of, if not the most difficult, high school-level entrance exams in the country.
And she'd just breezed right through.
"My sweet little sister was doing her best with what little brains she had to work with..."
No, that wasn't it. Ume must've screwed up somehow. Nothing else made sense. There was no way she was actually smart enough to have aced the exam. Not a chance in hell.
Fuck, if it weren't for the fact that she was surrounded on all sides by sniveling brats, she probably would've started crying. The near-overwhelming urge was there, but willpower alone held her tears at bay.
She'd been so close. She'd spent every available minute dedicated to preparing herself for the exam. Hours, days—months of hard work and effort were gone, just like that. She'd sworn up and down that, no matter what, she would pass this thing.
If not for herself, then for her mom, at least.
And yet she'd still failed.
Her dream had been torn to pieces before it'd even begun.
The funny thing was, she wasn't even surprised, really. Of course she would've failed. Why'd she even believe otherwise?
God, she was so stupid...
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ashido talking with that idiot friend of hers. She noted their expressions and the tones of their voices and barely resisted the urge to scowl.
Although that underlying sense of worry was undeniably there, they were clearly pleased with themselves, relieved they'd done as well as they had. They weren't confident exactly, but rather, they were hopeful. Smiling. Laughing. Needling each other, eager to know how they'd performed, curious as to which questions the other had gotten stuck on or found easy, their shoulders heaving from heavy breaths from the adrenaline that'd surged through their veins.
It made her want to scream.
How the hell had they done better than her?
How the hell had they passed whereas she'd surely failed?
How was that even possible?
Ume clenched her fist tight enough that her knuckles turned white as one of her fangs sank into her lower lip, piercing the soft tissue and drawing a thin stream of blood. She hissed when the pain registered, but it was enough to stifle whatever outburst had begun building inside her and return her focus to the matter at hand.
It wasn't over yet. Ume had to remember that.
The written exam had finished—nothing could be done about that now, but the practical had yet to begin. There was still the chance, however small it might be, that she'd be accepted, even if she'd screwed up the written exam.
The practical exam was the portion of the entrance exam that truly mattered, according to what she'd managed to dig up. If Ume managed to perform well—well enough to redeem herself, to counterbalance the weight of her utter failure during the written exam—then maybe, just maybe, they'd wave her through.
It was all too possible she was merely grasping at straws, but the hope in her heart was all she had left. So, she grabbed on as tight as she dared and refused to let go.
She'd already let her mother down enough. Now it was time to make her proud. She just had to do her best. Just like she'd promised.
Before she knew it, the quick break they'd been afforded between the written and practical portions ended, and the auditorium, once brightly illuminated, dimmed as the large screen behind the stage flared to life, accompanied by a burst of music—the genre of which she wouldn't have been able to place if her life depended on it—coming from the many speakers scattered all over the place.
Immediately after, someone Ume didn't recognize made their way onto the stage with a spring in their step. He may have been one of the exam proctors, but if so, she must have missed him, since she hadn't seen him before now. Then again, with how terrible his sense of style was, it was a wonder she'd missed him at all.
The first thing that caught her eye was his ridiculous hairstyle. How much hair gel he'd needed to waste to get his blond hair—which, admittedly, had a nice color and healthy sheen to it—to stick straight up like that, especially with how long it was, was beyond her. She couldn't stop herself from sneering disgustedly. Wasting that much money on his appearance, the least he could've done was ensure he looked good!
The rest of his outfit wasn't much better—the orange-tinted sunglasses he wore made no sense whatsoever, not while he was indoors, at least. His pants and jacket, albeit seemingly made of good quality leather, were drab and boring, making her eyes slide right off them. He had something around his neck, too—some kind of speaker as far as she could tell. It was big, bulky, and, unsurprisingly, ugly.
It was almost as if he'd designed his outfit with the hope of being as absurd as possible kept in the back of his mind. She supposed he'd succeeded if that'd been his intent, because, overall, he did look quite absurd.
Absurdly atrocious, that is. There was no way she'd be able to take him seriously—not when he was dressed as a joke.
"What is up, everybody?!" the proctor all but roared, his voice projected throughout the entire room. "And a warm welcome to all you examinees shooting for the top today—thanks for tuning in! Come on, raise those voices! Let me hear ya!"
Silence.
Pure. Fucking. Silence.
Ume felt her eye twitch with an emotion she couldn't identify.
To his credit, he was unfazed by the lack of reaction, eliciting little more than a shrug. "Tough crowd, huh? That's alright, I'll do you all a favor and skip ahead to the main show—straight to informing all you wonderful listeners about how this exam will go down! Are you guys ready?! Yeah!"
For the second time, not even a whisper.
"Is just me," she heard someone—probably Ashido—begin quietly, "or is this just... kind of sad?"
Then someone laughed. The laughter itself was relatively quiet all things considered, but with how silent the room was, it carried loud and clear.
The proctor's face twitched at that, and for a moment, she thought she could see something like dismay cross his features.
It took her a second to realize the one laughing was actually her. As soon as she did, she forced herself to stop, but even then, she couldn't keep herself from smirking, nor stifle the odd snicker that slipped past her lips.
'God, this guy is such a fucking joke...'
Then she heard it; the sound of muttering.
"...it's the Voice Hero: Present Mic! So cool!"
The proctor's—or rather, hero's, apparently—expression flipped suddenly, a beaming smile where there hadn't been even a second ago. It only grew wider the longer whoever it was just kept talking.
"I listen to his radio show every day of the week! It's so crazy nuts that the teachers at UA are pro heroes—"
"Will you shut up?" someone else said, and the mutter-storm cut off with a quiet yelp. Then it was blessedly quiet once more.
The hero, on the other hand, merely threw the kid, whoever it was, an appreciative thumbs-up. "Thank you for the support, Little Listener! It's always a pleasure to meet a new fan!"
The started squeak that reached her ears made it clear he hadn't meant to make himself heard. She wasn't the only one who found it funny either if the sudden snorts and giggles from all around her were anything to go by.
Regardless, she quickly stopped paying the idiot any mind as soon as Present Mic began his explanation in earnest.
"Now, you kids might've been wondering what your practical exam may look like! Whatever theories you might've come up with, let me answer that question right here, right now! You boys and girls will be conducting mock battles situated in one of our several battle centers, each one meticulously designed and modeled to perfectly replicate any downtown area! If you're curious about which battle center you've been assigned to, well then, look no further than your very own examinee card!"
With a raised eyebrow, Ume glanced down at her card, and sure enough, there it was, right underneath her examinee number.
Battle Center A, huh? She'll make sure to remember that.
"Oh, damn," she heard Ashido whine beside her. "We're being split up!"
"Looks like you're right," her friend answered. "Well, look on the bright side, at least we won't be competing against each other."
"I mean, yeah, but we won't be able to work together, either! What a bummer!"
"You'll be heading to your battle centers as soon as we finish up here," Present Mic continued, "so make sure you keep your own in mind! Now, let's take a look at what you'll be going up against!"
Ume glanced up as a handful of silhouettes—darkened and lacking in details, and yet wildly different and recognizable from one another—appeared on the screen behind the hero.
Those were robots, that much was clear.
"We've got three types of mock villains for you to cut your teeth on—each one with a different point value depending on its level of difficulty!
"The weakest of your opponents is only worth one point! The middling mook has an equally middling point value of two! And finally, the biggest and baddest of the bunch has a total point value of three! Keep that in mind when you're out there wrecking bots, and make sure you choose your targets wisely!
"And if you haven't figured it out yet, that'll be your goal during this exam! Use your Quirk to raise your score by taking down as many of your opponents as you can! You'll only have ten minutes to get a high score, so hit the ground running, and make every second count!"
Despite herself, Ume felt her lips spread into an eager grin.
The scenario they'd be putting them in for the exam couldn't have been simpler, and yet, it was the best one she could've possibly hoped for. Still, it was clear it'd be a race between her and the other examinees to smash enough robots before the clock ran out. It worried her, she'd be lying if she said it didn't, but nevertheless, she had several advantages others didn't.
For one, her belts provided her with a scale of mobility most others could only dream of. She wasn't exactly a speedster, and she definitely couldn't fly, not by any means, but in an urban setting, she'd have the edge. Whereas the other participants would be stuck on the ground, she could use her belts to take advantage of the environment around her. She could scale the sides of buildings to cross the city with relative ease or use the rooftops to launch attacks from unexpected angles. Her belts also made it difficult to get herself trapped or backed into a corner, on top of giving her the option of being able to disengage from a fight if the need arose.
Secondly, her Quirk excelled at taking on several targets in a wide area, all at the same time. Unlike most, who only had a single pair of arms, she could literally grow several more pairs with which to fight. And if that wasn't enough, she had range on her side—her belts could stretch and lengthen to the point where they spanned an entire street! Not to mention, if worst came to worst, she could always separate her sashes from her body, increasing her already impressive range exponentially.
Ume could do this, she was sure of it now. But whether or not she thought she could, that didn't matter.
If she wanted to turn her dream into a reality, she would have to, by any means necessary.
"But before you get ahead of yourselves, let me drop a warning! This is a hero school, which means we expect heroic behavior! Each battle center will be heavily monitored for several reasons, your safety being one of them. Now, we understand that people make mistakes, and accidents can happen, especially when Quirks are involved. That said, if you're caught deliberately attacking other examinees, or if you make one too many mistakes that end up with someone getting hurt, you'll be immediately disqualified! If that happens, you can kiss attending UA goodbye!"
That didn't faze her whatsoever—she'd seen it coming a mile away. Besides, it'd work in her favor—more people clogging up the streets and getting in each other's way would only mean less competition while racking up points.
Still, better be careful. Wouldn't want some idiot running straight into one of her belts and getting his head lopped off, no matter how amusing it might be.
However, there was still something she wasn't sure about.
They'd been handed a print-out before Present Mic's explanation had begun. It'd turned out to be a brief summary of everything the hero had mentioned so far, but there was one thing he hadn't covered yet.
There was a fourth villain type on the paper.
She'd have expected him to have gone over it with the other robots, but he'd just skipped right over it. Normally, Ume wouldn't have cared, except the information regarding the robots on the paper itself had been kept to the absolute bare minimum—not even the point values were written down. It was likely meant to be a surprise.
Maybe it'd be a problem or maybe it wouldn't. Still, it wouldn't hurt to ask. She straightened in her seat and raised her hand, only for someone to beat her to the punch.
"Excuse me, sir, but I have a question!"
The speaker was relatively tall, sporting a broad frame and stern disposition. His features were sharp, and his deep blue eyes were sharper still, despite the glasses he wore. His hair, the exact same shade of blue as his eyes, was cut short.
Despite all that, she couldn't help but notice how stiff he seemed.
She growled and let her hand drop.
"Go ahead! Lay it on me!"
"On the printout we've received, you've listed four types of villains, when you've only mentioned three yourself! With all due respect, if this is an error on official UA material, it is shameful!"
Ume gave in to the urge to roll her eyes, which she did with a frustrated sigh. 'Shove that stick up your ass even further, why don't you?'
"We are exemplary students," the four-eyed moron continued, wearing her patience thinner and thinner with each and every word. "We expect the best from Japan's most notable school! A mistake such as this won't do!"
'God, shut up, will you?'
Then he turned around, pointing at some other kid with a nest of green curls for hair. "Additionally, you, with the unkempt hair!"
Ume slammed her hands on the desk with a bang before immediately shooting to her feet. "Shut up already!" she yelled, cutting him off. "God, you're so damn annoying!"
The four-eyed moron recoiled, his stern features filled with shock. "E-Excuse me?" he all but stammered. "I was merely trying to—"
"How many times do I have to say it before you'll finally get it through that thick skull of yours? I don't give a crap about whatever it is you have to say! Sit down already, and shut your damn mouth while you're at it!"
"You—"
"Alright, that's enough," Present Mic cut in. "Hold your horses—let's just chill out for a second! There's absolutely no reason to argue!"
After a few seconds of silence, the hero's shoulders visibly slumped, and he let out a sigh of relief.
"It's clear that you're all dying to know about our last villain type! So, let me alleviate that curiosity!" With those words, a silhouette of the last robot type appeared on the screen, right next to the others. "The fourth and final opponent you'll face today is worth a whopping zero points! It's basically an obstacle we'll be throwing in your way—think of it as a hurdle you should try to avoid if you can! It's not that it can't be beaten, it's just that there's... basically no point! There's only one in each battle center, and trust me, you'll know when you see it, so tread carefully!
"That said, my personal recommendation to all of you is to ignore it and focus on trashing the bots that'll actually let you rack up some points!"
Ume hummed curiously. While that answered her question, something still wasn't adding up.
If the robot was designed as nothing more than a distraction, then why assign only one per battle center? Wouldn't it make more sense for multiple to be scattered around to further hinder people's progress?
There was something she was missing, she was sure of it, but she couldn't put her finger on it.
'We'll know when we see it, huh? Might as well take him at his word.'
"I see!" the four-eyed idiot eventually said before he fell into a bow. "Thank you very much! I apologize for the interruption! Please, continue!"
With that, he came out of his bow and finally sat back down, although not before shooting her an irritated glare.
Ume silently scoffed, not affected in the slightest. 'Feelings mutual, you imbecile.'
"That's all I've got, folks! If you've got questions, now's the time to ask them! And if not, well, here's to hoping you're as ready as you think you are, and that you've been hitting more than just books! And remember, a true hero is someone who overcomes life's misfortunes—take that to heart, and keep it in mind when you're making a killing out there! Good luck to all of you, and make sure you go beyond! Plus Ultra! Now get going, you've all got an exam to take!"
That, finally, got him something of a response, a few scattered shouts—some filled with confidence, and others wracked with insecurity. The overhead lights switched on again, brightening the once-dark room, and people began filing out, heading to where they needed to be.
Ume rose to follow, a complicated look on her face as Present Mic's words flashed through her mind.
"...a true hero is someone who overcomes life's misfortunes!"
It was meant to be motivating, she was well aware, yet all it did was make her grit her teeth as a snarl built up in her throat, the urge to scream and call him a liar near-overwhelming.
What did he know, anyway?
She knew suffering on a level none of these snot-nosed brats had ever even come close to experiencing in their entire lives.
They'd never felt the freezing cold as it'd crept up their aching limbs. They'd never felt an endless hunger gnawing at their core. They'd never felt pain on the level of agony, every nerve in their body set alight while all they could do was scream.
They didn't know what it was like to suffer.
She did. She knew damn well what it was like because she'd experienced it time and time again.
Her entire life—either of them, really—could easily be described using that one word: Misfortune.
She'd never known her father, in either of her lives. In her first, he'd knocked up her mother and fucked off long before she'd been born. In her second, he'd died before she'd had time to grow.
While her mother—her first one, at least—hadn't even been fit to wear the title. She'd been awful in every way that mattered. She'd beaten her brother for the mere crime of existing before she'd been born, and she hadn't been treated much better herself. The only reason she'd been spared from the worst of it was because she'd been beautiful, something that'd had value—something her brother hadn't been lucky enough to be.
And her brother... God, her brother... He'd been the only one she'd been able to rely on. He'd worked himself to the bone and skipped meals, all so she could have a half-decent shot at life. In that way, he and her mother—her second one, the one she loved more than life itself—were similar.
She was poor, too—likely more than anyone else taking the exam today. She'd been spared the poverty she'd known in her first life, but they were still barely making ends meet as it was. Her mother was killing herself to provide for the both of them, just like her brother had nearly done—who else would be able to say the same?
None of them would, she was certain. Perhaps a few had seen that level of suffering, maybe even first hand, but to have actually experienced it themselves?
There wasn't a chance in hell.
And the so-called hero had the gall to say that overcoming life's misfortunes made you into one?
He was wrong, she knew.
She'd done just that and all it'd done was make her into a monster.
That was the price survival demanded of you. Take before you're taken from, kill before you're killed. That was just life.
Anyone who said otherwise was nothing more than a fool.
A/N: So, you made it to then end yet again! I put a lot of work into this one, just like last time, so I hope you guys enjoyed it!
And, uh, about the entrance exam... Yeah, that's on me. I was originally going to include the practical in this chapter as well, but then, out of nowhere, I'd written over ten thousand words and hadn't even started Present Mic's lecture yet. So, I decided to cut the entire exam into two chapters. Thus, the lead up to the exam and the written portion of the entrance exam were included in this chapter, while the next chapter will include the practical, and hopefully, the immediate aftermath of the exam, as well. Granted, I probably could've fit the entire exam into this chapter, but I'm not too sure how much you guy's would've enjoyed a chapter clocked in at about thirty thousand words.
I'm glad this chapter wasn't quite as heavy as last chapter, too, even though it was... sort of depressing at times. *cough*
That said, if you haven't figured it out yet, yes, Ume will be taking Mineta's place in 1-A, if that hadn't been obvious yet. I understand that putting her in 1-B was an option, but frankly, outside a few characters like Monoma, Kendo, Setsuna, and Tetsutetsu, I'm just not very interested in 1-B, basically at all. So, I just put her into 1-A to save myself the trouble of writing characters I know basically nothing about, although I will apologize if that's a let down to some of you.
I also wanted to do something a little more entertaining than just slapping a "Minoru Mineta Doesn't Exist" tag and calling it a day, hence the scene at the train station. Tbh, It just seemed like the perfect opportunity for an interaction, considering Ume's personality. Whether or not he appears later in the story, I can't say. He might, he might not. We'll see.
That said, overall, I feel like I made Ume a little too much of an asshole this chapter?
Nah, surely not.
Pretty sure that's everything this time. I've mentioned it several times now, but still, I'ma say it again: Feedback is very much appreciated! Lemme know if I suck or not, so I can stop sucking if I do. That said, I'll see you all next time!
