Chapter Text
Day of Diagnosis
Dr. Tsubasa's Office For Quirk Diagnosis, Musutafu
I dropped to my knees, my mother failing to catch me as I hit the cold tile floor.
It was funny how a couple of sentences could change someone's entire mindset for the rest of their life. Though, it depended on how long they lived.
"Doctor, are you sure?" My mother's voice was soft and worried, noticing how I could hardly process the news. "Could you have accidentally misread the diagnosis? Misinterpreted the symptoms?"
"No," the doctor adjusted his half-moon glasses, his thick brows furrowed in anger at my mother's accusation, though his eyes still held concern for the kneeling boy in front of him. "I make no mistakes. Unfortunately for your son."
"You just told him he has twenty months to live, sir," my mother emphasized, pointing at my kneeling form. "Could you at least double-check?" The doctor saw her glossy eyes, his expression softened ever so slightly.
"Are you questioning me?" The man asked, standing up from his desk and pressing the file into my mother's chest. "Did you not come to me for a professional examination?"
He was far shorter than my mother and I, but he radiated frustration and pity. His white lab coat was impeccably clean--he was no hack doctor, and the statistics weren't lies this time. His stormy blue eyes were unreadable as my mother hastily folded the papers and stuffed them into her leather purse.
"That's what we did," I answered numbly, pushing myself off of the floor, tasting the salt of my own tears as I stifled a sob. "Mom, we should go."
"Tobi..." She said, her thin arm reaching out for my own. Some part of me said I should accept the gesture of affection and love, but my mind could hardly process what was happening right now. What was only a small cold a few weeks ago had evolved into something so large that I couldn't even process it.
"I'll be in the car," I waved her off, swallowing hard as I jogged out of the office, nearly knocking over a nurse with violently pink skin and spiraling horns. She cried something out to me, perhaps an insult or an apology, but I couldn't really hear her correctly. All I could hear were Dr. Ichiko's words on loop, like a broken record.
Your son has a debilitating disease in his lungs. I've never seen such a thing before, and I believe it might be a drawback from the boy's Quirk.
By my estimates, you have about twenty months to live, unless you find a sort of treatment for it. But the chances of finding something like that are...infinitesimally small.
I rounded the corner and skidded to a stop at the glass automatic doors, taking a deep breath to calm myself. I ran my fingers through my hair, pulling it out of it's ponytail. Leaning up against the wall, my eyes caught onto a poster going into excessive detail on how to wash your hands.
I put the hairband onto my wrist, sliding down the wall into a sitting position and wiping tears from my eyes. My hair was in my face now, and I quietly blew it out of the way as I listened to the sound of rain on the tin roof of the doctor's office. It was so relaxing, it almost distracted me from what had just happened.
But not quite.
Twenty months.
I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder, and I looked up at my mother, whose kind and round face was tainted with worry. I hated seeing her like that, but I wasn't sure what I could do to change it. Usually, I would've told a joke or made a display of my Quirk, but both of those were either seriously out of place or borderline illegal in public spaces.
"We'll find a treatment, I promise," my mother dropped to her knees, flowery yellow skirt rippling around her as she pulled me into a tight and fierce embrace. "I promise."
We both knew the chances of that were slim, but I hugged her back in earnest, if only to make her feel better. She didn't deserve this, not after all the shit she went through raising me without a...
"I'll even call your father," she whispered into my ear, her voice quavering as she said it. "If you want."
I stiffened, closing my eyes. "Don't."
It was obvious neither of us wanted to really see him. Sure, my mom loved him, but you kind of grow apart from someone who's a no-show to all of your birthdays. It is what it is.
My mother nodded and pulled away, her brown eyes meeting my grey ones as two doctors with an empty gurney passed them by. "I'm sure he wants to see you, though. You know how he feels about his job and his hours as it is."
"I--" I choked up as I thought about it. "I don't want to talk to him." There really was no reason to be so angry at him, but I feel that I might've been better off if I had a dad to teach me what it was like out in the real world. My mother did her absolute best, every second of every day, but a dad...it was just different. "Don't call him."
"I won't question you, honey," she said, putting a hand on my shoulder and squeezing tightly as I dropped my head onto her own shoulder. "But he deserves to know about it."
I paused. She was right, as usual, but...I wasn't sure I was ready to guilt-trip my absentee father, especially using the topic of my imminent death. I wasn't a bad person like that.
"You're right," I crumpled into her arms, my fingers scrunching at her rosy pink cardigan. "I don't know how to fix this, either." I always had a solution for these kinds of things, whether it be cold medicine or some good old fresh air. It was one of the perks of growing up in a doctor's office. Back when my dad was around, anyways.
But this was my Quirk we were talking about. The reason all of my dreams weren't just dreams. The reason I could make a difference in the world was the reason I'd never be able to head out into it. Not as a pro hero, at least.
"It's okay, honey," she hugged me tighter, slowly pulling me up to my feet. "We'll figure it out. You know we always do. For now, you just need to prepare for the Entrance Exam." She tried to inject a little positivity into her voice. "After all, you've been waiting your whole life."
"You realize I won't even graduate, right?" I said, my voice weak and hoarse. I had every reason to be negative, but I hated to be that way in front of my mom. Her and her bright clothes, and cheerful smile. "I won't make it through my second year."
And I was doing that to her. How would she process it when I actually died? When she had to look at my gravestone and speak a eulogy about my past achievements and how much she loved me? Would any of my middle school friends attend? Any UA friends, if I made it and if people liked me? Would my father attend?
I hope he would.
"Focus on the present," she said, her gaze hardening as if she could read my thoughts. I always wondered if that had been her Quirk--telepathy. "That's what your father always said."
"Please don't mention him," I asked politely as I wiped my nose, wrapping my arms around my torso protectively. "You know how I feel about him." I know how you feel about him, too. I wish you didn't love him as much as you loved him, because you make me feel so bad.
"He really wants to see you, Tobi," she said sincerely, affectionately ruffling my long black hair as she tried to regain her bubbly disposition after such harrowing news. I knew it would be difficult for her to fully recover, if she ever did. Nonetheless, I had to speak my mind on the topic of my father. Make it clear that he had his shot, and he didn't even fire the goddamn gun.
"Then he should come," I said sharply, my voice coming out more harshly than I had intended, even with my cooped-up frustration. "He should prioritize his family if he cares as much as you say he does. As much as he used to."
"I know you're lashing out because you're scared," she said, dropping her hand from my head and into her purse, taking out some car keys as we exited the hospital. "But please...just...give him a call. He's your father, Tobi. He deserves to know what's going on with you, especially if it's this big."
I looked into her brown eyes, and nodded firmly before turning to face forwards, just so she couldn't see my brows furrowing at the idea of it.
"I'll call him tonight."
Hanasa Residence, Musutafu
The car drive home was somber and silent, unlike every other one I'd had with her. I refrained from saying anything I might regret, as my mother's eyes were wet with tears the entire way back. I thought I might've pushed her too far on the matter of my father, and that combined with my death sentence might've been enough to make her crack.
I almost burst into tears at the thought, and promised to reel myself in on the idea of insulting my father. If I was going to express my dislike of him to anyone, it really should be him and him alone.
I opened the door and gestured my mother in, before closing and locking it behind me.
My mother let out a small gasp, and I whirled around, expecting an intruder or something else bad to pile on to everything else. What I saw could've been good, and I probably should've taken it that way, but I knew who it was from, which made it bad in my eyes.
The house was impeccably clean, the grey carpets vacuumed into even stripes. the couch throw pillows fluffed, counters and tabletops shining, the broken light above the breakfast bar repaired. A steaming chicken katsu meal was waiting on the table, its scent making my mouth water despite my efforts to ignore it.
I furrowed my brows at it all, and my mother smiled for the first time since we'd heard the news. I wasn't going to spoil it for her.
"It's your father," she said, barely containing her happiness as she clasped her hands over her chest, seconds away from breaking out into song. "He used to do this for me when we were dating."
"What a gentleman," I said in a neutral tone, trying my best to make it sound less sardonic. I would've respected him more if he stuck around long enough to say hello to his dying son, but you take what you can get, I guess.
"He really was," my mother said, slipping off her berry red flats and leaving them on the rack as she approached the chicken katsu. "A fantastic chef, too." She waved the smell of the food up into her nose, before turning back to me. "Call him, honey. I'll keep the katsu warm for you. Maybe fry it the way you like it."
I nodded slowly, before walking down the hallway into my room. Shame my dad doesn't even know how I like my chicken katsu. Maybe I'm being too hard on him?
Am I?
My room had also been cleaned, though I wasn't sure what I had been expecting. I kept it clean enough as it was, but he had managed to make it even neater. My bed was made and the clothes in the closet were folded and probably ironed, given by the crispness of the folds. My trash can had been emptied and my desk organized. I felt extremely violated, and even more grateful that I kept my UA study items beneath a loose floorboard I had carved out.
My enrollment was going to be a big surprise for him, but I think my death will be the bigger one. I don't even know if he likes surprises.
I ran my fingers over the books in my bookshelf. My novels on pro heroes had been placed at the bottom, though I never thought much of it. My academic textbooks that I had conveniently forgotten to return to my middle school teachers sat out on my desk with a note in scrawly handwriting I could only see as my father's. Return these?
"Thanks for coming by to clean, Dad," I said in a clipped tone, as if he could somehow hear me from wherever he was. "Even if that's all you do nowadays."
Looking at my bookshelf with a an expression of extreme contempt, I tore the books off of the shelf and let them hit the floor with a great many thumps, pages bending and bookmarks sliding out. Usually, I would've felt bad. But right now, I was just resentful.
I stared at them for a little while, before collapsing onto my bed, wrinkling the white covers as my eyes bored into the ceiling. There were still imprints from the glow-in-the-dark stars I had begged my mom for all those years ago. They had long since lost their luminescence and were thrown away, but the stains remained. Even my father couldn't clean them out.
That made me happy.
I came to the later conclusion that the room was scented my caramel, and I could only groan. Sometimes, I wondered if he was a doctor or a janitor, with how little he did the former and how much he did the latter.
Pulling out my phone, I clicked on his contact picture--which wasn't even his face, just a grey icon--and listened to the standard dial tone. If he ever called me first, I'd hear the standard rings as well. That's how little I cared, though I wondered if he had a special ringtone for me. It wasn't something I liked pondering on--it made me feel bad.
After three rings, he picked up, pushing away any hope of having to give him a prerecorded message.
"Tob--"
"Hey, Dad," I said quickly, cutting him off as a slight act of revenge. "How's work?"
"Tobi?" He asked tentatively, as if trying to make me feel guilty. "Is that you?"
"Yes, Dad," I muttered grimly, outlining the stars on my ceiling with my eyes as I tried to grit my teeth as quietly as possible. "Surprise. I've made an attempt to emotionally connect with you!"
"You noticed my cleaning?" He asked hopefully, ignoring my barb with a tactful ease. I wasn't fazed in the slightest. It only meant that I wanted to try harder, to warrant some sort of attention.
I looked at my thrashed bookshelf. "Uh-huh. It was nice while it lasted."
He sighed, the audio of my outdated phone crackling angrily. Nice room, bad phone. I think I'll have to save up some funds for a new one. "Tobi, I'm sorry I'm not around more. My job is full-time, and I just wanted to let you know that I do try to come and say 'hi' as often as I can, as long as I can."
"Do you?" I asked evenly, in the same interpretable tone I had used with my mom earlier. "What do you do, anyways? Give me three guesses: Doctor? Janitor? Deadpan dad? One of those has got to be right, I know it." Probably the last one. I hope Mom can't hear me...
He paused at my verbal onslaught, and I heard the sound of a video game character dying. I narrowed my eyes. Is that...Street Fighter? An arcade, maybe? Janitor is looking a little more likely now. Explains the caramel scent, I think.
"I'm helping people make the world a better place," he said cryptically, and I snorted at such a vague answer. It was so like him to be like that--apologetic but unwilling to actually explain his actions. I clenched my fist until white crescents appeared in my palms from the pressure.
"Yeah, okay." I bit out after taking some much-needed deep breaths. "Well, I hope you're enjoying it, Dad."
"Is everything alright, Tobi?" He asked, suddenly concerned. It seems he wasn't as detached as I had assumed, though I wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing. On one hand, I wanted him to really care and give the whole truth for once, but on the other hand, I never wanted to talk to him again.
"Yeah, everything's fine," I murmured, trying to sound lighthearted and slightly annoyed, but I don't think he fell for it. Maybe I should just keep it clean and easy. "My favorite flowers are white roses, okay?" That's not what I wanted to say. I didn't want to guilt trip him!
"What? Why?" He asked, and a video game died out in the background, and I heard someone curse in the background. "Flowers? Do--do you want me to get you some flowers? I can..."
I said nothing, worried that if I said anything else, I might do something I actually regret. I genuinely hadn't wanted to stoop to guilting him into visiting, but the truth was...
"Son?" He called out into the static.
"Dad," I stuttered, holding back a sob as I swallowed the dryness in my throat. "I..."
"Tobi?"
"Will you visit soon?" I asked, my voice cracking midway. "Will you visit me?"
"I--" He paused. "Let me ask my boss. Why?" Because the truth is...I miss you so much. I want my dad again.
"I was hoping I could see you before I flatline." My mouth was not running with my heart this time, and I visibly grimaced at my sharp tongue. I was on the verge of breaking down, in front of my father of all people! And of course, I had to mention the countdown. My body really enjoyed screwing me over, it seemed.
"Flatline?" He asked, his calm voice now revealing some major stress. "What do you mean, Tobi? Are--are you in the hospital?" I heard a strange sucking noise, and I realized what he was about to do. And as much as I wanted it, as much as I wanted him to come home, I don't think he'd be able to stomach what I'd have to tell him.
"Dad," I inhaled sharply, trying to keep him from doing anything too reckless for me. "I'm fine, Dad. Don't worry about me. Just...just try to come within twenty months, okay? It's a wide gap, but I know you need to know these things in advance."
My father sighed, catching my passive-aggressiveness, though he was definitely relieved that I was doing alright. "I will do my best. I can almost guarantee that I'll be able to come over during that period of time."
"Love you, Dad." I murmured into the speaker, a tear making its way across my nose as I curled in on myself. I hung up on him before he could respond, not because I didn't want to hear it, but because I was afraid of telling him anything and everything.
Day 608
Hanasa Residence, Musutafu
I woke up at four in the morning, still in the clothes I had worn to the hospital. Clumsily getting to my feet, I made a beeline for the bathroom across the hall, accidentally tripping over the books I had left out in my anger last night. I could barely see as I got to my feet, waving my arms around to make sure I didn't trip and fall into anything else. The caramel smell had faded away, and the sound of an awakening city could be heard from outside my window.
Staggering into the bathroom, I flicked on the light and turned the faucet on, splashing my face with cold water to clear my eyes and maybe wash away the events of last night. For once, I wished I couldn't remember things. Like Kobashi, a special ed kid at my elementary school. Short-term memory loss. Before I went into a deep dive on short term and long term memories, I looked up into the mirror.
I stared at myself, looking at myself. I glossed over my normal features, instead choosing to focus on the blaring pimple on my forehead.
Oh.
I slumped, before grabbing my hairbrush and moving through my hair, before pulling it into a low ponytail. The pimple was such a small problem, not that they'd ever been a big one before. I normally would've put some cream on it, but my skin was the least of my concerns at this point.
Heading back into my room, I quickly got dressed into a white t-shirt and dark grey jogging pants, before grabbing my red backpack and stuffing it with a water bottle and a change of clothes, just as the UA list sheet had asked. A calculator and some #2 pencils already sat inside, just for the written tests, but I was pretty sure the water was a couple days old.
I don't even care about it at this point. Such a small problem, really. I suppose my countdown is giving me a fresh look on things, morbid as that is.
"You awake?" My mother's voice came from the door. I was glad the two of us were early birds, though my classmates often made side comments on that kind of stuff. Her voice sounded a little strange, like she had just been crying. I knew her well enough to know that she had just woken up, hoping that yesterday had been nothing but a dream. The files in her purse probably said otherwise.
"I am," I said, pulling two mismatched socks on. "Coming." I realized I hadn't eaten my chicken katsu last night, mostly because I had passed out on my bed not ten minutes after my call with Dad.
I opened the door and nearly crashed into her. She was wearing a green leafy skirt and a blue cardigan this time, along with her bronze-rimmed glasses. Her hair was pulled up into a high bun, and she looked ready for the day. If I hadn't known her, I would've assumed she was a kindergarten teacher. She had the patience to be one, though I was sure it wore down on just about everyone.
"I made you nigiri," she said, keeping her voice down as a gesture of kindness. "Fresh."
"Oh, thank you," I said, giving her a quick hug and kissing her cheek.
"How did your call with your father go?" She asked, knowing she was treading on thin ice already. And so early in the morning as well...man...
"It went okay," I lied, if only to keep my morning temper in check. Our apartment had always been kept on the colder scale of temperatures, but my father must've thought we liked it hot. We didn't, and I was only more disappointed that he didn't know that. Maybe I was being spoiled.
"Did you tell him?" My mom asked softly as she handed me the bento box wrapped in a pastel yellow silk square decorated with bees and roses. "About...that?"
"Yes," I smiled at her, continuing to lie. I had never directly told him I was about to die, mostly because I was too scared about it. "He said he'll visit sometime soon."
Her face lit up, and I felt bad for lying to her immediately. "That's--that's great, Tobi. I'm glad you're letting him come by, even with your...attitude towards him. Really great, sweetie." From anyone else, those words would've sounded inherently angry, but from here, they just seemed so kind and reassuring.
"Isn't it?" I muttered under my breath, taking the bento box with a grateful smile. "I'll eat in the car. I'd like to get there as early as possible, you know, to get the good seats."
"Oh, okay," my mother put a jacket on and I grabbed a grey beanie from the coat rack. It was old and faded with a small icon of some small-time hero whose name I didn't know. I hoped I didn't make her think I wanted to distance from her, because that was the last thin on my mind.
I slid the beanie over my head, effectively covering the pimple. I looked in the mirror once again, looking much more presentable, though my eyes still looked hollow. One of the cons of having my eye color, combined with the events from yesterday. I had every right to feel and look hollow, I figured.
"You'll do great, honey," my mother said grabbing my hand and rubbing my thumb, a soft smile lingering on her face as she looked up at me. I was a little taller than her, but not by much. There were reasons I never participated in height-based sports as a kid. "Don't be so nervous."
"I'm not nervous," I said solemnly, truthfully. I wasn't nervous, I was terrified. If I didn't make it, my life added up to nothing, and I didn't want to spend the rest of my days in any place other than UA Academy. I literally would roll over in my grave if I didn't make it.
Seems my dark humor is still intact.
My mother headed out the door, car keys jingling as she spun them around her finger, and I shut the door behind me, hoping for the best.
Yuuei Academy Grounds, Musutafu
"This is it," my mother looked up at the glass buildings reflecting the cherry blossom trees back at her. It really was a stunning campus, and though I had tried to arrive early, there were already students heading inside for the exams. I could almost feel the nervous energy in the air. "Yuuei Academy."
"Thanks for driving me," I said, hopping out of the car and carefully closing the door. Our car was rather rickety, and had a habit of sputtering out when I needed it most. Like my lungs. Dark humor is definitely still here. "I love you, Mom." I mustered out as I straightened my beanie in the car window.
"I love you, too, baby," she said, beaming like a star. "Good luck. I believe in you!"
Hitching my backpack, as she slowly drove away, I swallowed down the knots in my stomach as my heartbeat dropped to my ankles. Each step felt like I was draging dumbells on my ankles, which wasn't a stretch from what I had done for physical training at the gym. I really had done just about everything to get into UA. Karma was out for my ass, and I couldn't figure why.
This is where my increasingly short future lies. I thought as I walked down the yellow brick road, subconsciously avoiding the lines, on account of the 'step on a line, break mom's spine' nursery rhyme my friends had sung so often. If I saw a crack, I could only assume I'd be doing a body flop onto it. My pleasure, Dad.
I entered the building and saw that only a few people were here, though it was more than I had originally expected. The auditorium could've been host of a concert instead of a pre-examination lecture, though I knew every seat in the area would probably be filled. Everyone tried to get into UA, after all. For the name, for the rep, for the cash, for the motives, for your family. All varied.
I took a seat in the middle of the auditorium, an acceptable distance away from any of the people here already. Unzipping my backpack, I took out my water bottle, absentmindedly picking at a sticker I had gotten from a Thai restaurant down the street from my middle school.
"Early risers!" A loud voice came from behind me, making me jolt violently, dropping my water bottle with a loud clang. "Yeeeeeeeeeeeah!"
Quickly picking up my bottle as if it had never happened in the first place, I turned to see two men--one with gelled blonde hair and a speaker system around his collarbone, and and another with matted black hair and black clothing. AJ, even with all of his research into pros, found it difficult to recognize them on sight.
"Present Mic!" A boy a few rows in front of me yelled back, and I realized his hair was made of coils of steel. Looks rather painful...no offense, if you can hear me? "You're our announcer?" He then proceeded to shoot me a knowing look, before nodding, his hair bouncing around like springs. Oh, jeez! He can hear me.
"Yeah!" Mic yelled back, spreading his arms dramatically, making me flinch once again. "Ain't it cool!"
I mean, yes, but no...? The boy laughed from in front of me, though Mic didn't seem to hear him. I wondered if the other hero had hearing impairments due to his comrade's volume challenges. Taking a swig from my water, I set it down in the cupholder on my right, hoping it was the right one for me to use.
I spaced out as more people began to come in across a span of twenty or so minutes, until the auditorium was jam-packed with students. A girl with choppy brown hair and bright yellow cat eyes was sitting on my right, and a boy with the head of a bird was on my left. His eyes were closed, and I was instantly reminded of ancient Egyptian lore on animal-human gods.
When Present Mic began his presentation on the physical exam, I tried my hardest to focus on how the exam functioned, despite his aggravatingly loud voice and the fact that I continued to struggle with my thoughts.
Twenty months. Why am I even trying out here? I should just quit, and let someone else who can actually make it to graduation try out.
Wait, no! You deserve to be here. You worked just as hard, if not harder, than everyone in this auditorium. There's absolutely no way you can just let it go because your lungs are dying. Well...
"Bro, are you okay?" I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I stifled a yelp of surprise. I wasn't expecting social interaction, probably because I assumed everyone was going to be aggressively competitive. "You're looking really down, dude."
I turned to see a blonde boy with yellow eyes and a lightning-shaped streak in his hair. His expression was one of concern, and I noticed that the bird-headed boy shot us a silent, brooding glare. I debated on ignoring him or replying, and then quickly chose the latter.
"I'm good, thanks," I said, carefully plucking his hand off my shoulder. "Just nervous. As I should be."
"Me too!" He said a bit too loudly, though he didn't seem offended by me taking away his hand. "I'm so glad I'm not the only one!"
I nodded silently, before staring at my feet and hoping he would take the hint that I didn't want to talk, friendly as this guy was.
"I'm Kaminari, by the way," he held out his hand, oblivious.
"Hi," I shook his hand, obliging him the pleasantries. Chances were, I'd probably never see him again after this. The chances of us making it into the same class were about as small as me finding a cure for my lung dise--bad topic. "I'm Tobi. Tobi Hanasa."
"Nice, nice," he said, nodding his head to some imaginary music as Mic continued to talk. I did my best to listen to both him and Kaminari, though I was failing rather spectacularly. At least Kaminari was going down with me...? "What's your Quirk?"
"What's yours?" I asked back, unwilling to answer or even discuss the topic.
"I asked first, dummy," Kaminari said, though I got the sense I might be just a bit smarter than him. Not to be rude, or anything.
I peered over at the card he had been given, and he backed up to met me see it better. He was in the row behind me, so I really had to crane my neck. "Look, we both have the same cityscape," I pointed to the number four on his and then the four on mine. "We'll answer each others' questions there. How about that?"
"Okay," Kaminari smiled brightly, unknowing that I had no intentions of answering his questions. All I wanted to do was get this over with. "See ya there, Tobes."
I grimaced at the corny nickname, gently reminding myself that I'd probably never have to see him again. I numbly followed Kaminari to the cityscape, before getting immersed into the crowds of people.
"Ah, excuse me," I nudged past a person as I made my way to the front, and they whirled around, neon pink hair flashing in the rising sunlight.
"Oh, hi!" The pink-skinned girl turned around. "I'm Mina!"
Everyone is so friendly... I nodded. I don't want to be friendly. I feel bad...
"Uh, good luck," I said, giving her an awkward thumbs up.
"You too!" She smiled, mimicking my thumbs up with a bright smile not unlike my mom's. I turned away, only then realizing that I hadn't even introduced myself. I made my way out of the throngs of my competitors, taking a breath of the fresh air as I regained control of my frazzled emotions. I figure my mom shouldn't have had the doctor's appointment confirming my death on the night prior to the biggest day of my life, but it is what it is.
"....and begin!" Present Mic's voice rang out across all the cityscapes, the ground vibrating at the sound of his voice. Silently, I wished I'd gone to more birthday parties in middle school, if only to accustom to such sound stimuli. Though, if I made it into UA, I'd get used to it easily enough, right?
I jerked out of my haze as everyone tore into the cityscape, and I jogged after them, worried. This was the first time using my Quirk after being diagnosed, and though my head told me nothing was really going to change, my heart told me to be more lax for once, because it might speed up the process. Stupid illogical heart.
So there's one-pointers, two-pointers, three-pointers, and zero-pointers... I thought to myself as I traversed the artificial city, pushing the thoughts of my sickness out of my head as best I could. I watched as people began to tear the robots apart with their Quirks. Mina sprayed a strange liquid over one, and it rusted and disintegrated. Kaminari electrocuted one of them, laughing excitedly as it collapsed in a heap of sparking, steaming metal.
Everyone's just pushing through, my eyes widened as I focused for the first time that day.
At this rate...
I'll lose.
I took a deep breath, and spread my arms out, gathering my resolve.
And I can't die without making it here.
I felt a warmth blossom in my chest, and smoke curled around my arms, twin dragon-style. I ran at a one-pointer, who stared at me blankly, camera lens glancing me over. Stopping suddenly, I sent a pillar of smoke at the robot's pronged feet, a greyish void-hole appearing below it.
It made a noise of confusion as the ground dropped out from beneath it, its falling delayed a bit like an old cartoon. I watched as the robot fell through the ground, and then the hole disappeared with the flick of my hand. I saw a three-pointer lunging for me, and I reopened the hole, and the one-pointer fell onto the three-pointer, crushing it. Red glass from the camera lens scattered at my feet, a tinted reflection looking back at me.
I booked it, and began to take down any robots I could find, though most of them were already taken out or on the other side of the cityscape. Whether it was with my portals or disorienting them into a building, I racked up several points easily enough. Perks of having good Quirk genes.
Oh, that's a good joke. I scorned myself.
I heard a terrified scream from behind me, followed by the ground rattling beneath me.
"That's huge!" A voice came from beside me, and I turned to see Kaminari. He just came out of nowhere, and I turned to look up at the towering green robot looking down on us. My brain couldn't even comprehend its size, or more importantly, how much money that thing must've cost. Why is that zero points? Seems bullshit.
"What is that?" I asked Kaminari
"A zero-pointer," Mina answered from my left, sliding up from the street behind me, a trail of acid leading down the concrete up to her neon yellow sneakers. I would've complimented her outfit had I not been so shell-shocked by the zero-pointer.
Kaminari promptly turned around and ran for his life, and after a moment of indecision, Mina skated away, too.
I looked at the girl who was directly in the behemoth's warpath, and I watched as it raised it's huge foot to crush her. All thoughts of running slowly shot out of my mind as her screams became more and more terrified. She'll live, right? UA wouldn't let a student die, would they?
Does that matter? You need to help her!
You need to help her.
Stop disassociating yourself.
I need to help her.
I need to help her.
I need to help her.
I flung my arm out, and she fell through a warp gate as the monster slammed it's foot down. I nearly choked in relief, dropping to the ground to avoid the remnants of concrete being flung my way from the robot's feet. I reopened the gate next to me, and she tumbled to the ground. She looked up at me, fearful tears in her eyes. She had bright red hair and green eyes, fear quickly melting into determination.
"Thank you," she stood up, brushing the cement dust off of her clothes, and I noted her extremely calloused hands. "I'm Itsuka Kendo."
"No problem," I said, failing to introduce myself once again as the zero-pointer got closer and closer. "Let's run."
I ran away from the monster, warping away other people when I could, Itsuka following suit. The huge gimmick continued its rampage, and I made a split-second decision, turning on my heel to face it. Itsuka slowed to a stop as well, raising an eyebrow as she waited for me, probably thinking I was out of breath.
And I was.
There's no way for me to stop that thing, I resolved, breathing heavily from using so many warp gates in such a short period of time. I've already exerted too much energy, and I'm not sure what happens if I overexert now. The extended usage of my Quirk might--
But there might be more people injured if you don't try at all.
I looked at the thing, before groaning softly. There really was no discussion to be had. That thing had to be stopped, at all costs. I had already gotten enough points to at least leave an impression on the pro judges, and stopping this zero-pointer would just aid my conscience.
"Kendo-san?" I asked, and she turned to me, green eyes blazing with a sort of fire that made me a little uncomfortable in its intensity. "What's your Quirk?"
She held out her hands, and they expanded to the size of three pointers. That explains the callouses, I guess.
"Nice," I said earnestly, looking up at the towering zero-pointer, cold sweat beading on my forehead, partially from fear and partially from exhaustion. "Cause a distraction. I'm going to stop that thing."
"Alright," Itsuka said, and I was glad she trusted me. I sure as hell didn't.
I opened a warp gate on the top of the zero-pointer, warping to it. I warped a piece of steel off the robot's head, and entered the wiring. Looking through the wires, I found a red one about as thick as my entire torso, a reminder of the size of the robot I was sitting inside. It's like Voltron! A grey ring began to spiral around the wire, before the warp gate began to close, quickly slicing it in half.
The behemoth staggered, but continued on it's way.
So that wasn't the right one. Should've studied more engineering, I guess.
I grunted, creating a huge warp gate over the entire zero-pointer's head. It began to shake and dissipate into the air, and I trembled from exhaustion, almost losing my balance had my angle not snagged on a wire. I slowly made it close, and the metal screeched as it tore apart in a srt of decapitation method.
Gasps came from the ground, and I jumped off as it began to collapse, my sneaker stuck in the head wiring where it had been stuck. Kendo caught me in her hands, and I heard Present Mic's voice call time just as I passed out, everything spiraling into darkness.
Faculty Examination Room, Yuuei Academy Grounds
"Did you see that?" Vlad King watched as the zero-pointer nearly collapsed on awestruck students. "He just...sliced its head off."
"I did," Nezu smiled knowingly, his mind racing already. "A warp user. I don't think I've ever had one graduate from here. Not in my years of teaching, anyways."
"He tore it apart," All Might said, seriously impressed about it all. "Badass."
"Just like that Midoriya kid," Present Mic shouted, making Aizawa flinch once again. Aizawa would never get over Mic's volume, no matter how many times they talked about it. "Those two are so cool!"
"Our top four graduates this year," Aizawa looked at his clipboard, expression neutral and tired as ever. "Katsuki Bakugou, Kirishima Eijirou, Ochako Uraraka and Tobi Hanasa."
"Those where some impressive students this year," Midnight smiled, rubbing her painted nails across her whip, which sat in her lap.
"Indeed," Nezu replied, looking at the camera views of hundreds of exhausted teenagers in all five cityscapes. "The villains of Japan are definitely in for a beating."
Cityscape 04, Yuuei Academy Grounds
I felt someone kiss my head, and I shot into consciousness once again, though my head was pounding like someone had stabbed it with an ice pick. "Mom?" I asked groggily, clamping my hands around my temples to soothe the pain. "That you?"
"No," an elderly voice said, and my vision cleared. "Sonny, you sure were tired."
I looked at the petite old woman, smiling softly. "I still am." Who are you? Is that PEZ in your hand? I kind of want some...
"That was so cool!" Kaminari helped me up, though I was still in a daze. "You took it down all on your own! That big--big thing! Ridiculous!"
"No," I looked for Itsuka, eager to give her some sort of credit for...I couldn't remember what she did. So tired... "Someone--someone helped me."
"And you're welcome for that," Kendo peered from around Kaminari, startling me. "But I didn't do too much."
"You saved my life," I said as I regained that clip of memory. I rubbed the back of my shoulders, imagining pain that wasn't there anymore, thanks to the old woman. Wonder how she did that? "And I'll give you credit for that, Itsuka-san."
"Well," Itsuka smiled warmly, though the fire in her eyes didn't get any less fierce and fearsome. "I guess I can say thanks for saving my own life, right?
Pushing off of Kaminari, I tried to take a deep breath, but my throat wouldn't respond. I grabbed for my throat, desperately trying to breathe. It worked earlier! I was talking and everything. So why...why?
"Hey, what's up with him?" Kaminari asked, his voice rising an octave in concern. "Uh, medic! Recovery Girl! Lady! Hey! Hey!"
The elderly lady looked at me in alarm. "Sonny?"
I scratched at my throat my throat, when oxygen suddenly came back to me. I inhaled it in huge gulps, dropping to the ground on all fours. Lucky for me, the shards of metal didn't dig themselves into my hands, because then I'd have another problem. And I didn't need it.
"What the hell was that?" Someone asked as I continued to inhale and exhale loudly. "He just started choking..."
Recovery Girl frowned at me. "I healed you already...or did I? So hard to remember these days..."
I shook my head. "I'm fine, miss." I rubbed my temples as I got to my feet again, spreading my legs a bit for a sturdier sort of stance. I didn't know there would be side effects...this is a huge issue. Especially since I intend to use my Quirk more and more often now that I'm in highschool.
I stumbled back to the cityscape entrance, where hordes of parents waiting for their children. I didn't see my mother, so I opened a warp gate beneath me and then dropped straight into my room, glad none of the faculty saw me do it, since it was kind of unlawful. Maybe they didn't care, but I didn't have time to think about it as I collapsed onto my bed.
League of Villains Bar, Kamino Ward
Shigaraki paced in the bar, a DS in his hands. His middle fingers stuck upwards as he battled in the game, his teeth clenched as he peered around Father to look at the two characters on the screen, duking it out in pixellated battles. "Come on...come on..."
"Shigaraki, you need to stop," Kurogiri said sternly as he gently wiped a cup with a stained rag, before jotting down that he needed to buy some new cloths for the bar. "You need to focus on our attack plan."
"Yeah, yeah," Shigaraki waved his free hand absentmindedly, before turning back to his game, rapture making his eyes almost glow. "There's nothing to worry about. Sensei's got it under control."
"Even so," Kurogiri began to buff the table, his yellow eyes narrowing at Shigaraki. "It's good to know the plan, since we're taking offense."
"I already get the strategy," Shigaraki said, his tone laced with anger at both the game opponent and Kurogiri's incessant warnings. "I'm just impatient. Got that, Kurogiri?"
"Sensei is working on it," Kurogiri said, ignoring Shigaraki's tone. "The UA archives are more secure than we anticipated. Retrieving the schedule will be difficult, and it's not like it wasn't before."
"Blah, blah," Shigaraki growled. "We just need to find All Might, kill him off. Plus, our man on the inside will help us out lots, right? Easy peasy!"
"Of course," Kurogiri said, neatly setting down the six glasses in a pyramid on the back counter, folding the rag and setting it down next to a rack of dirty dishes.
"Remember," Sensei's voice came from the TV, dark and menacing as always. "This year is an odd group of individuals. We are not to underestimate them, Tomura."
"Yes, Sensei," Shigaraki said in a softer one, and Kurogiri nodded listlessly, his mind probably on other things, like grocery shopping.
"Kurogiri," Sensei said, and the warp user immediately turned to the TV, his yellow eyes looking more like tea saucers. "I need you to break into the Kishimoto Prison and free our men. Make it quick and fast. Kill any officers who get in your way. I'm not tolerating failure this time."
Kurogiri warped away without another word, disappearing in a cloud of black-purple mist.
"Now, Tomura," Sensei said as Shigaraki set down his DS on the shining table, relaxing on a barstool. "My source has reported that there may be another warp user like Kurogiri in UA now."
"Yeah, what about it?" Shigaraki grunted as he shifted in his seat. "Kurogiri's not even that cool."
"Target them. They are the largest liability in our plan." Sensei said, his voice gaining a cold edge Shigaraki hadn't heard in a long time.
"Got it," Shigaraki muttered, before picking up his console and turning up the volume. "Kill the warp user, yadda yadda."