Chapter 1: Origin
Never in a million years, you would expect the walls of reality to crash around you.
It was Monday, and while they weren't the greatest of days, it started out fine. School, friends, copious amount of homework you did not want to do and would avoid until last minute. The only horrible part of the day was the fact that you had missed lunch because you lost your wallet, only to find it in your jacket pocket of all places.
So why, during a trip to the bathroom, did everything have to change? Why did the mirror ripple as an arm reached through? It made no sense at all and in an effort to leave, you were left panicked when the doors refused to open and no one had answered your calls.
"This is fucking insanity," you mumbled to yourself. The hand proceeded to reach forward as if searching for something. You attempted to look around, to distract yourself for only a moment, but your efforts were met in vain. And then it happened.
At some point during these events, the world had slowly started to melt and fade, blurring until the only things left were you and that one, dirty bathroom mirror. It got harder and harder to look away and soon, you felt yourself reaching forward. The hand was incredibly warm, almost burning yours as you felt a chill run down your spine. It gripped you back and you screamed, regretting immediately your actions as you were pulled forward through the mirror, the rippling reminding you of molten aluminum rather than glass. Your mouth slams shut in fear of the substance entering your mouth as you pass through. Moments later you're gasping for air, panic fading with each breath and you open your eyes slowly in relief. Nothing went into your mouth. You're still you, but you don't know for how long. The thought alone is sickening, but you push the idea out of your mind and instead focus on the sensation of floating, hair lifted weightless around you as you are slowly pulled forward by the hand, attached to an arm that seemingly goes on forever. And then you notice it. Head on, the world appeared black and empty, but in your peripheral vision, you can see colours moving slowly, blobs of yellows and blues, purples and greens and everything in between dancing, blending, changing. It's welcoming, like a cup of hot chocolate on a cold winter day, though you can't help but notice something's off. They move towards you and you feel warm, eyes lulling shut, vision fading until–
Your eyes snap open.
The source is unknown, but that's the least of your worries right now. Everything here is confusing and, oh, shit. You can't move. Your body is left frozen in fear as it covers you, holding tight as you grow cold. Metal clanks, and you roll your eyes towards the source.
You're laying on the ground, and next to you lies a blade sitting in a pool of red.. Your hair, draped around your face, is dripping red as you move and you soon realize your arms and legs are too. Your jacket is gone, discarded among the mess and you finally notice where you are.
Your brain is sluggish as it tries to piece together what has been happening. You're... home, somehow, on the ground, cold but covered in something warm and red. There is no sound besides your laboured breathing. Your chest hurts as everything comes to perspective.
Yelling, arms and words flying, both with enough force to send you into the walls. At school, jacket on even though the weather is too warm for it. Your friends smiling and laughing, calling you over until they see your face, expressions falling as they take in your bruises and red eyes. You smile, telling them it's nothing as you hurry them to class, claiming you'll be late and wanted to avoid detention again. They laugh to lighten the mood, recalling the handful of times you have gotten into trouble with the two of them. Gotten in trouble because of the two of them. You remember going to class, getting reprimanded by the teacher for yet again forgetting your homework as some classmates and friends snicker. Getting looks, comments from people about your appearance, your friends not doing anything to help. Going to lunch and acting like you forgot your wallet so no one could tell you couldn't afford a meal, not like you wanted one anyway.
Heading to gym, hiding in the bathroom stall to change."Girl problems," you had said as an excuse to avoid everyone and their watchful, judgemental eyes.
Faking an injury to go to the nurse, just to hang out in the east hall bathroom, old and lesser maintained with an unconventional lock on the main door so it was mostly avoided by students and able to deter the few who do venture here. Trying to relax, to catch your breath as the panic and anxiety take over, fingers assaulting your thighs as you scratch and claw in a desperate attempt to get a grip on yourself. The anxiety fades, leaving you shaking and empty. Splashing your face and washing your hands, thankful for dark clothes as you grab your backpack and unlock the door, making the long journey to your final class as you scratch at your wrist, hidden inside of your jacket to ease your nerves.
You remember feeling emptier than before during the last hour of school, taking notes robotically as the clock ticks slowly. Of walking out the school gates towards your house, panic subsiding as you find yourself alone, taking the opportunity to lock yourself in your room as you turn on your laptop and begin watching a show that has always made you smile.
"Plus Ultra..." You whisper along, barely able to utter the words as the episode ends and you make your way to the bathroom. Door locked, cabinet opened, searching for some things. Taking medicine for your headache that you just noticed you had. How many did it say to take? How many did you take?
Taking more just to be sure because God, your head was killing you.
You found something else among the items and you remember taking more time using it as your arms and legs begin hurting and then numb as you slowly lower yourself to the ground. You blink and find yourself flat on your back, shivering as you get more wet, metallic smell in the air. You see something moving out of the corner of your eye, black spots forming until–
You're in front of the bathroom mirrors, blinking as fingers begin moving through the glass.
And you wake with a start, sputtering and crying on a couch. The room is white and smells of disinfectant, like that of a hospital. Two objects of colour stand out, a deep mahogany desk and a man dressed in a navy suit seated behind.
"Hello,” he greets.“Nice to finally see you awake. Well, depending on your view of ‘awake,’ given the events." His laugh is deep and it takes you another minute before you can even think. Eyes trained on him, you open your mouth to speak, voice shaking.
"Aren't I dead? Why am I in a hospital?" He blinks at you and looks around as if surveying his office for the first time.
"I hadn't realized this was a hospital. As you said, yes, you are dead. Rather sad for your age, wouldn't you think? So young, so much potential , and I find you here in front of me?” He shakes his head, sighing. “As for this being a hospital, this is only a figment of your imagination, best suited to put you at ease to help your mind cope best to your situation. With all the people I see, I've stopped noticing my surroundings. Do forgive me for my surprise." He looks at you with a warm smile and stands, offering out his hand. Gingerly you reach to him, lips pulled back into a tentative smile.
"I'm what your kind refers to as 'Death' or ‘The Grim Reaper’, although I would much rather go by my overall term as this 'God' although please, feel free to call me whatever you'd like." At the announcement of his name your eyes widen.
Death? The taker of souls, guider of spirits? And God? The almighty dude who could smite me?
"Um, okay then, uh... Death? Grim? God? Can I just call you sir for now…? Because I'm gonna need more of an explanation." You respond in confusion.
"Sure thing (y/n). I am what you're world calls 'God.' See all hear all, stuff like that. While I can bring back the dead, end diseases, create everything from nothing, I chose to not interfere as it can mess with the balance of the world. Everything has a purpose and a reason, so I mainly use my time guiding people once they die. I ease their minds, inform them of their passing and help them move on to live their afterlife. The whole concept of Heaven and Hell are not entirely true as the afterlife is merely one place, though most religions hold some fact, my favourite being reincarnation." With that word he grins at you, standing from his chair and walking around the desk to be closer to you. "I am here to offer you the chance at life anew. I hate to say it, but you did not live that good of a life before coming here."
That earned a bitter laugh from you. "No shit Sherlock." You responded back. He muttered to himself about humans and their vocabulary before turning back to you.
"Life is not fair, and sometimes the cards are dealt wrong. This world was cruel to you, and I wanted to give you another shot to live life. So, and don't get upset, I went through your memories, took what made you happiest and I think I've found the perfect thing.
See, there are many different worlds and parallels in existence. In one world, your life may just be a movie whereas to you, in this parallel on this planet, it is your life. Understand?"
Brows furrowed you nodded. While his long speeches were beginning to confuse you, you felt a good enough understanding on what he was saying.
Alive in one world, a character in the next. Real and fake.
As if reading your thoughts he nods, smile still on his face.
"Exactly. If you accept, I can give you a life in another reality. While you may no longer be (y/n) (l/n), you will be alive in a better environment than before. "
I'm dead. Not much left to lose. Yolo. The thought struck you as funny. The use of such an old term and after everything that just happened caused a small giggle escaped your lips. How could anyone tell you-you lived once if God was just going to give you another one.
Death the God Reaper man stuck his arm out again.
"By shaking my hand you agree to this new life. While you may be reborn, it will not be as an infant. This life will be new to you but old for those around you. It will take time for previous 'memories' to come to you but this world should be familiar enough that you won't need them right away."
His words stuck to you as you reached out. A logical explanation to not knowing where or who you are, but wouldn't people be suspicious if you completely forgot your entire existence in just one day?
As your fingers connected your vision turned black. God's grip tightened on you as everything melted away and you were keenly aware that your body felt weak again. The headache you had previously returned tenfold and you cried out as sounds appeared, deafening you. A bright flash of light and the hand pulled tighter as a voice called out-
"Have no Fear, for I am here!"
And this time when blackness fell upon you, you faded with it.
She was famous.
"The girl who fell out of the sky.”
“The night-born angel.”
"The girl made of Stars."
People began calling her Starlight because for all their years with quirks, no one had been born from nothing.
She had no name. No family. An instantaneous birth, a gift from the cosmos. And it broke his heart when he saw the condition she was in. The wounds, the scars, the pain she emitted even unconscious.
It took most of his strength to transform and catch her and what a sight to behold; a lanky, tired man carrying an unconscious, bleeding child. He couldn't actively hurt her more so when asked what happened, he lied.
'A villain attack. She was taken and dropped from the sky.'
Of course, the nurses didn't believe him. They had heard the news, seen her fall, a broken angel twinkling in the nighttime sky. But they went with it. Who were they to deny this man, a man crying over such a small girl he knew nothing about? So they nodded along, wrote villain attack on her chart and Star in the name bracket so they had something to call her. They stitched and bandaged her and gave her IV after IV in hopes of bringing her body back to normal levels. In all honesty, she should not have been alive. Her vitals so low, the blood loss so severe. But by some miracle she was, and they brought her further from death with each passing day.
The Midoriyas were concerned. The young green haired boy had reported to his mother that his teacher and mentor had failed to show up at school for a week and they soon found out why. The mysterious Starlight child had appeared around the same time he vanished, and Inko cried when Izuku Midoriya told her the news.
For all of his years as a Hero, Toshinori Yagi had never seen someone so broken from life itself. Villains had destroyed innocent people, incapacitated other Heros, but the thing that broke his heart the most was this young girl. So from that day forward the mother swapped places with the Number One Hero, forced him to eat and sleep because he couldn't help the poor child if he became a skeleton. Well, more than he already was.
She had just traded shifts with him, spending her time rubbing the girl's hand, brushing her hair back as she whispered loving words and kind prayers when her fingers twitched. And the girl shifted ever so slightly. It had taken 17 days, but she was finally waking up.
Inko Midoriya called out for the doctors, quietly at first, afraid she was just imagining things. But when the small, star-kissed girl fluttered her eyelids and moaned, Inko yelled, hoping the Hero was close enough to hear her.
A soft noise calls out.
You become aware of your surroundings slowly, eyes heavy and unable to open, head aching as sounds begin assaulting you. You are keenly aware that something is touching you, lightly gripping your hand as if in fear. A soft voice murmurs encouragements and love.
Who is this person? Where are you? Is that a beeping noise?
Your breathing picks up as your body begins waking up more, and you let out a slight moan once you open your eyes, the fluorescent bulbs too much for you. You make a move to pull your arm over your face but are stopped by cables and wires connected to you.
“...ey. Sweetheart, are you awake? Doctor? I think she’s waking up!” The person is yelling now, voice too loud and shrill to your ears. Head pounding, you swat them with your disabled arm, tightening your grip on their own hand when you let out a pained yelp.
“Shut the fuck up .” Your voice is weak and it cracks, but the words hold enough venom that the person stops and instead begins rubbing your arm. Who is this person? And why the fuck are they touching you? Actually, better yet, where are you? Because last time you woke up, you were…
Well, shit. Where even were you?
It hits you fast and you bolt upwards, wires ripped off of you as you freak out. You curl up and smack away the person next to you as emotions hit and you start to feel numb when you see the bandages on your arms.
Not a dream. Everything was real. You finally went through with it… Finally succeeded. And now you’re back, alive, probably about to be shipped away.
The person next to you reaches out and rubs your back hesitantly until they are sure you won't fight them off.
“Hey sweetheart, are you okay? Do you remember what happened? Where you are?” The voice is soft, motherly as it asks you these questions. You tilt your head to her before letting out a small scream.
Inko. Motherfucking. Midoriya.
How? Why? This shouldn’t be possible. Are you hallucinating? You were no stranger to seeing unfamiliar images and shapes, but a whole person? You could feel her, smell the light floral perfume she wore, the room was freezing cold. Despite the bags of pain meds running through your system, the healing wounds still ache like hell. There was no way this was just a figment of your imagination. Everything felt too real, more so than it ever had before.
Sounds begin to fade-in again and you hear the door slamming open. Before you can react, you are pulled into someone's arms, held tightly against someone large and warm. You flinch at the person’s touch and you can feel the panic set in, but the arms wrapped around you never let go. They loosen, allowing you the ability to wiggle and breathe, but the person didn't dare let you go. Your senses are assaulted, soft mumblings in your ear, the voice deep, soothing. The scent of pine needles and firewood, warming you inside, giving you a sense of home. Who was this man? Why did it feel so safe with him?
“Toshinori you should probably let the poor girl go, she just woke up…” Inko Midoriya began, but she stopped herself and you soon knew why. Toshinori Yagi was crying. His tears were warm as they fell down, landing softly on your shoulders. The water, however, did not remain. Shortly after falling the droplets rose off of your skin and hospital gown and hovered mid-air around the two of you. The light shining through the windows hits them, causing a prism of colours to dance across the room. You could hear Inko gasp as she looked on in awe, distracted by the sudden spectacle. The Number One Hero pulled himself away from you, wiping his eyes off before running his eyes up and down your body.
Unlike you were accustomed to, these eyes held no malice or lust, the caring look he gave you as he surveyed your condition, right arm bleeding from where the IV line came out. This was not home. You were not surrounded by asshole teens or abusive people, but rather two of the sweetest adults in this world.
The world of My Hero Academia.
It felt odd to admit. Your mind unable to comprehend your existence here, or why for the life of you, the new illustrated appearance of this world seemed so normal.
Now that you were taking in your surroundings and really noticing where you are, the change is remarkable. Everything had a sharp edge to it, colours brighter than were possible in the real world. The floating water droplets were surreal, the prisms reflected much more vibrantly than when you first laid eyes on them. But you could only really tell a difference if you focused on it, and that left you with the beginnings of a migraine, so instead you focused on the two adults. Both wore hopeful expressions as they waited for something, and it took an additional minute before you realized what. They were waiting for you to speak and offer some sort of explanation. You could feel your face redden as you opened and closed your mouth, unsure of what to say. Before you could ask what happened, a phone rang and Inko flushed red.
Upon seeing her reaction, Toshinori nodded.
“It’s okay Inko, your boy needs you. And besides," he chuckles as he looks back at you, the shadows around his eyes lifting ever so slightly, "I am here." He grins at you, a goofy toothy grin that said, 'Yes, I am aware I said my own catchphrase, but you wouldn't know that.'
He's so full of himself, such a nerd. The thought made you smile. Meeting the man millions adored in his regular state, acting like a five-year-old that knew a secret. Inko dismissed herself and gave a small wave as she walked out the doorway and a realization hit you. If the two knew one another, then obviously you missed a full semester, given the two had not met until after the Training Camp Arc and the beginning of the Dormitories. The thoughts swirled in your head and you began wondering why you were brought here now, and why you were brought here overall. All Might waved his hand to grab your attention and your face flushed in response.
"Would you happen to know how you got here, young Starlight?"
Blinking a few times, you stare dumbfound. Starlight? Is that supposed to be you? Because the name made no sense until he began telling you your origin tale. Of the mysterious girl who appeared from the sky, falling back to the earth bathed in stars. The male's voice rose ever so slightly as he lies to you, claiming All Might had caught you and then gave you to him before vanishing. As he recounts his trip to the hospital and watching over you, your breath catches.
Somehow, a nobody like you had captured the Greatest Hero's attention and had single-handedly taken over his life with your mere existence. It hurt you to think of the pain he had obviously gone through, otherwise, he would not have cried earlier. That reminder made you feel incredibly sad and as your tears began falling, the floating orbs of water lost their iridescence and had started sinking to the floor, matching your own tears. It was an inconsolable sadness, brought along by the fact that kind strangers suffered so much at your hands. You didn't want to burden anyone which was one of the reasons for your choices, and yet here you were, listening to a stranger discuss the two weeks of solitude awaiting your return to the land of consciousness.
Before you knew it you were bawling, picking at the bandages wrapping your arms up subconsciously. Toshinori Yagi grabbed your hands and held them in his own, thumbs brushing the backs of them to offer some consolation. His movements were soft, afraid to cross a line he had yet to see.
So you offered up the truth. Of your real life, your name and age, of how miserable and terrifying your daily life way. Of the demons you faced at school, at home, alone. You talked until your voice was gone, until your eyes were so puffy and red from crying that it hurt to keep them awake. And once you finished your tale you had no strength left to prepare for the backlash you expected. But again, there was no harsh reality to come slap you awake; instead, there was a fatherly male, brushing your hair back lightly as he wrapped you in the hospital blankets.
Knowing what was happening, you huffed in irritation. Falling asleep again, after just waking up from a two-week coma? You would have fought to stay awake had you not remembered the troubles you caused him. So instead of fighting, you closed your eyes to rest yet again. Before you drifted off, you heard him speak once more, hushed so as to not disturb you.
“How do I explain this to Nezu and Shota?”
Oh boy, next time you woke up, it was not going to be fun.
Chapter 2! I know it's just the beginning, but tell me what you think of it so far.
A big thank you and shoutout to Jade though! My unofficial editor has been helping me fix the little (and big) mistakes I've made and I'm very thankful she puts up with me.
Chapter 3: The Grass is Greener On the Otherside
“Oh dear,” Nezu began as he took a sip from his teacup. “There isn’t much we can do given the present situation.”
He looked between the two Heros before resting his gaze on the small girl curled in a ball. While she had been left comatose for over two weeks, the rest had done nothing for the bags under her eyes and the tired look she wore even while sleeping. The blankets were pulled high above her shoulders and it was evident that someone, probably Toshinori, had tucked her in after she had fallen asleep.
“With all due respect Sir, I highly doubt she was lying to me. And she very clearly has a quirk. It would be best to have her attend UA, at least until we can confirm or deny her story.”
“Of course that would be wise, but don’t you think it’s a bit unconventional to allow her to attend the school? She hasn’t taken the exams. We have no clue what the extent of her quirk is. All of the classes are almost full too, we can’t displace a student because of this situation.” Shota Aizawa added. He was in no way against bringing the girl to the school, but thinking about it from a logical standpoint, her appearance would be hard to explain and remedy.
Nezu looked between the two, considering their points. He was silent for a moment, thinking of the best plan and sipping his tea slowly before speaking.
“As acting guardian for the girl, Toshinori, I believe it would be best she live with you. Keeping her on schedule for medications and improvement both mentally and physically would be ideal. For now, though, she is to practice using her quirk so that we know the extent of her power and so she may gain better control over it. As for schooling, we shall place her on a trial run at UA when she is ready. If she can match the curriculum, then she may stay. Shota, as you are aware of her situation, she shall be placed in your class until further notice.”
Eraserhead nodded at the principal’s words before checking the time. While Hizashi volunteered to teach both classes today, Aizawa did not want to leave his students with the Hero for long. For all the good he has done, Hizashi Yamada was also the type of teacher to make his students have rap battles if given the chance and Shota Aizawa did not want to deal with that today. So with a final nod and goodbye, Aizawa was gone, leaving the principal and now-guardian alone.
The two sat in silence, watching the child sleep. One drinking tea, the other running his fingers through his hair. Parenting would not be easy, and he was going to have to be as kind and careful as possible for this young girl. It was a task unto itself, and Toshinori was unsure if he would be able to fill in that roll correctly.
“She’s more than she looks.”
Toshinori gave a smile in response. She was definitely more than she appeared. Without meaning to, the girl had captured the entire country’s heart. She was so small and thin, wasting away where she laid, and yet her quirk had manifested curtly and without even meaning to. She had made a spectacular sight.
Currently, the girl had been asleep for thirteen hours. Amusing, given how long she’d been out beforehand. But that number was a disguise. She had awoken several times, screaming, crying, a wild animal trapped in a cage. The hospital would have restrained her had he not been there. Toshi was sure that the things she told him were just the tip of the iceberg. The things she whispered, the fear she woke up with, he had to remind her she was safe a dozen times before she could close her eyes. And each time she woke up, the room would darken as if a curtain had fallen. Without the light, she looked even smaller and more scared; face pale, scars standing out even without visibility.
If she were to survive in this world, he had to help her. Train her to use her quirk, to protect herself. Teach her how to face the endless nightmares and memories, teach her how to survive them before she lost herself to them again. It was the reflex every hero gained from experience, and without it, the heroes themselves would be lost to all of the horrors they had seen.
There was a shifting noise as glass met ceramic and Nezu stood up to collect his things.
“She’ll be waking up soon. Be sure to inform her of her upcoming situation and please do train with her. She is starting from the beginning, after all. Izuku Midoriya would make a good companion for her as well, the boy is now learning about One for All.”
With that farewell the rodent left, leaving Toshinori Yagi alone with the girl who had begun screaming.
There were blurs of arms, fists flying, making contact over and over again. Voices screaming, things thrown, people thrown. Everything was blue and red, fading in and out, getting harder to see, harder to distinguish the shapes of. The walls were closing in as the room got smaller, leaving no space between you and the silhouettes that grew louder, more violent the closer they got. On the floor, curled up in a ball in hopes of being ignored, of having less contact.
Running would do no good. It never did. So the corner was the next best thing, hidden behind the shelf.
They stopped mere inches from you. Your eyes were closed, squinted shut as the “if I cannot see them, they cannot see me’ mentality kicked in. Seconds passed. One, two, four, eight. There was a deep inhale before you were grabbed, hand wrenching your chin upwards to face them, your tears preventing you from seeing. They fell silently as the hand moved up your face, gently touching your cheek in a loving manner before reeling back, a stinging sensation blooming across your right cheek. There was a yell before the hands grabbed your throat, swinging you backwards into the wall as everything fades to darkness.
You awake already screaming, loud, bloodcurdling, as you lurch forward, flailing arms in front of you to push off an invisible aggressor. The phantom hands were still wrapped around your neck and no amount of flailing could remove them as the tears fell, the pleads leaving your lips. Yet another nightmare had occurred, and while the thrashing was not as bad as the first time, the nightmares had gotten worse, more vivid, the pain and fear so real in your head. It took ten minutes to stop the screams and another five to stop muttering the unheeded words.
Please let me die this time. Someone save me. It hurts so much. What did I do?
Calloused hands lightly touch your arms, pulling them down from your face as they rub slow, soothing circles. The instinct to pull away and run is as present as always, yet somehow you were able to prevent it, having only flinched and tugged four times before relaxing. The smell of pine enveloped you. Not the scent of alcohol, cheap body spray and sweat. Toshinori pulled you closer to him as the murmurs died down, leaving you with silent tears and hiccups. For the majority of the day, this was how waking up would go: screaming and tears, memories and dreams swirling together trapping you until large warm hands pulled you out, softly telling you it was okay, that he wouldn’t let you go.
But why would he say that to you? A complete stranger offering another kind words and comfort. It was foreign but welcomed, allowing you the ability to calm down and breathe. Once everything was calm Toshinori pulled back from you and began speaking.
“We’ll begin training soon, so why not get dressed and eat something? I have to go set some things up but I will be back in twenty minutes, little Starlight.”
The nickname causes you to flush and you give a small nod as Toshinori walks away. You move to stand, throwing the sheets off of you and swinging your legs over the edge, groaning at how stiff everything feels. You lift yourself up and take the first step only to come crashing down onto the floor. The current IV line nearly gets pulled out again as you fall. Using the bed for support, you stand, wobbling, and slowly slide along the hospital furnishing and machinery to reach the bathroom.
“Oh my fucking god,” you mutter. You're out of breath, struggling to stand upright as you try to brush two weeks worth of rank from your mouth. It is hard work, legs weak, shaking like a leaf as you brush, and soon you are sitting on the toilet seat lid when your legs can no longer support you. Afterwards you turn to the bathtub, turning the knob all the way to hot and you wait for it to fill. Discarding the shitty hospital gown was great given how the back never fully shut and it was covered in blood, sweat, and tears.
Slipping into the tub was a struggle on its own. You had to lift your legs over the high edge of the basin and then slowly sink down into the bath. You had made it halfway before your arms gave out and you dropped the rest of the way, splashing water as you went. The scalding water was horrible, skin turning red instantly, but it made you feel cleaner and made it easier to wash off any dirt that remained. Judging from the state you were in, it was obvious you had been cleaned a decent amount of times while you were out cold. The thought was horrifying. Someone, maybe even more than one person, had undressed you and bathed you. Someone had seen the marks, bruises, and scars that littered your body. Oh god, they must be judging. Making jokes, telling their colleagues about the small, disfigured gi–
There was a light tap on the door, followed by a deep voice.
“I’ve got some clothes for you. I'll leave them on the table here for you when you're finished. I’m outside of the room if you need anything, just shout.”
He’s back already? Had I really been sitting in the tub that long? The water is colder than it was, I guess so.
Despite having finished speaking, Toshinori had not walked away like he said, instead he remained outside of the door awaiting an answer. He was probably contemplating entering if you did not respond so you did, offering a soft okay .
Footsteps faded and soon you were alone, swaying hands lightly on the water’s surface. The water moved slowly, making almost no sound and when you brought your hands up, the clear liquid following your fluid movements, hanging from your palms like rope. It rippled and swayed as you moved it like a little marionette doll. Twitching each finger allowed the water more mobility until it was dancing around the bathroom, the length growing more and more the farther you willed it. Soon you were left cold and dry, not even a single droplet on you. Returning the water to the tub, you let out a small shriek upon contact. Having been moving around, the water no longer held any heat. It would be a waste to empty the tub and refill it though, so sitting in cold water you began to think of ways to heat it up even if you would not be able to. Hands above water, you began gesturing as you spoke to yourself, smiling softly as you began to think of fun ways to reheat it.
“ Putting the tub on a stove top, placing it on the roof so the sun could warm it. Laser vision? Or would that just evaporate it upon contact? Oh! Fire! Practical and easy. A hot flame to heat the water, but what if it could go underneath the surface and still warm it? That would be fucking metal! Oh, my hands are on fire. Oh. My hands are on fire. OH MY FUCKING GOD MY HANDS ARE ON FIRE. HOLY SHIT IS THIS NORMAL? WHAT THE FUCK DO I DO?!”
In a blind panic, you submerge your hands and sigh in relief before realizing the plan had not worked. The violet coloured flame flickered under the water, heating it quickly. Soon there were bubbles forming and in fear of boiling alive you bring your hands back up, willing the flames to stop before you catch fire because burning to death would never be ideal. With that thought the flames vanish, leaving you to your boiling hot bath. You finish bathing quickly after that, scared another mishap would occur, and as you attempt to get out you find it easier, the hot water stimulating your legs further so that walking was not as laborious. Wrapping the towel around you, you slip the door open a smidge and reach for the clothes lying just outside. While they were not extravagant, the baby blue sweats were soft and better than the open gown you had on before.
Fully dressed, you slowly make your way out of the hospital room to find All Might standing before you, hero costume and all. He gave a hearty laugh before announcing it was time to train. With this out of the way, the Hero poofed into smoke before appearing back in his normal form. Now standing next to him you gawk at the sheer size of him. Despite the lack of muscle and the slouch, Toshinori Yagi easily towered over you by a good 53 centimeters. Holy fuck he’s tall. You yourself were not very tall, a mere 167 cm to his 220, but the thought that someone would dare go against a Hero that tall? It was shocking. You must have been wearing your thoughts, because he laughed yet again, patting your head before leading you down the hallway, eyes locked on you every time you stumbled or tripped.
The trip was short, ending in front of large double doors. Toshinori opened them to reveal a large gymnasium fit with four different terrains; reinforced concrete walls, thick glass panes along both the walls and cathedral ceiling. The gym was broken into four sections; the northwest side having made of grass and earth with a small pond, the northeast being metal encased. South of the metal section was cushioned floors and walls, most likely for any flight-based quirks and the last quarter having been made of laminated wood, complete with a basketball court. The gym glistened in the sunlight, lacking any indication of being used. It was honestly really pretty to look at, and you were easily distracted by the neat, shiny surfaces, so much so that you nearly fell into the pond, too busy looking around to notice where you were walking. Frankly, you had walked into the pond. You came to your senses when you heard Toshinori mumble, and it took everything in you not to freak out and just breath because you were walking on water. Once you were aware of your position, the solidity of the water’s surface began failing and you slowly began sinking. A few deep breaths and the water was once again hard and you quickly walked off to the safety of land, unceremoniously dropping to the ground. Toshinori laughed at the face you made before beginning his small lecture.
“As you know, One for All was passed onto me, so while I may not have experience in your elemental quirk, I do have experience with sudden power you are unfamiliar with. It will take a lot of focus and training in order to control the small portion of your quirk, and it seems like you have a decent understanding of water control, so we’ll skip that for now.” Toshinori slowly sat down on the grass, crossing his legs and placing his hands in his lap. “Do you know if you have control over anything else?”
Fire hands. That shit happened. The thought came fast, and the momentary panic you felt earlier left you feeling a tad uneasy again. It burned underwater. The fire didn’t go out.
“Well, that’s new.”
You did a double take when he spoke. Oh, guess you didn’t say it in your head as you thought.
After recounting what happened, Toshinori nodded. “Try doing that again. Think of how you felt. Think of a small ember in your palm, nothing too large or frightening, just a small flame that warms your fingers.”
Closing your eyes you did as he said, cupping your hands together. At first, you felt nothing, frustration gnawing at you. It was so much easier in the bath, and yet nothing was happening. No warmth, no light, nothing. Minutes passed, and soon it was twenty minutes of empty, failed silence. Letting out an angry noise, you moved to stand but plopped back down when hands landed on your shoulders.
Shrinking slightly, you opened one eye at him, quickly shutting them once you saw the male was looking at you. “It’s alright, just breath, Star. Relax.”
With a sigh you try again, surprised to feel heat radiate from your right palm. You imagine a flame, small but gradually increasing in size until it is that of a shot glass, dancing from palm to palm. You open your eyes, experimentally moving your hands, tossing the flame back in forth to test wind resistance. It unsurprisingly holds up, flickering only slightly. At the size of a baseball, you decide to test control, placing it gently on the ground, willing it to move but not burn. Initially, you are unsuccessful, the flame leaving scorch marks on the vibrant grass. Eyebrows furrow as you focus, and soon the purple flames move without harming anything. Toshinori praises you for the effort, the usual frown he was often depicted with replaced with a proud smile. He suggests you pick the flame back up and you do so, offering a small grin back. Being ballsy, you begin running the flame up and down your arm, sweat sleeves pushed up just in case they ignite. Time passes like that, you moving the flame around, changing the size and shape every so often to test your control, taking to heart any pointers the Hero provides. An hour passes by, and you find yourself more comfortable with the flame, it no longer feeling dangerous or wild, but rather like a pet, under your control, listening to your every command. Soon there are no boundaries as the flame encircles you, jumping from arm to leg, knee to head, nothing burned or damaged.
The only thing troubling you now is the heat. Before, it was cool, but after spending so long with fire literally touching you, you’ve begun sweating. A desire for a cool breeze is strong, and lo and behold, you receive one, the strong gust slightly pushing you back as you lose control of the flame. It flies from your hands, landing on the ground, slowly spreading outwards and you begin panicking.
What should I do? Put it out? Stomp it? Water? If it doesn’t burn or go out in water, what good would either of those do? While the grass is burning, the flames are no bigger than a campfire, but this fact aside the panic is fast to take control. You feel yourself slipping from being present when hands lightly touch yours, Toshinori telling you to that he is here, to relax and breathe. He talks softly, reassuring you the flame is not out of control and that everything is fine.
It takes a bit to fully be present, and the relief you feel when you notice the dirt ring around the small fire is visible on your face.
“Let’s do some practice with air. No more fire, just focus on the air around you. Fire needs oxygen in order to live, so imagine the air around the fire. It’s softly moving, feeding the flames, allowing it to live. Now imagine the air stops moving, forming an impenetrable dome around the flames, allowing it to die out.” smoke from the fire begins curling, swirling around it. It forms a domed shape like he said, and the flames die slowly until all that is left is swirling tendrils of black smoke. When you no longer feel the flames present you imagine the dome as a bubble and pop it, leaving the smoke to flow outwards in rings. Your voice is soft when you speak, whether it’s from lack of use the past few hours or from mental exhaustion.
“Can we be done for today? I’d like to go back to the room now and relax.” The Hero agrees and stands up, pouring water from the pond where the fire once sat as a precaution. Standing still feels weird from lack of use, the sleep in them not helping either as you stumble to the room, occasionally grabbing onto his sleeve when you trip. The walk back is quiet and you are thankful, too busy reflecting on the training you had just completed.
Using the power had felt good. Amazing, actually. It was empowering, being able to hold something so destructive but not giving it the power to destroy. And while the loss of control was absolutely fucking terrifying, it left you wanting more, to spend more time practicing until it was no longer a flame, but rather a part of you, the same going for water and air.
And so, that's how you spent the next few days.
After kicking the Number One Hero out of your room so he could get back to his job, you woke up before the sun could even rise, walking and running back and forth to strengthen your legs, working on your control over your quirk.
Water came the easiest, like a second skin. Without thinking you could make it move, and with a little practice, you could accumulate the water in the air until you had a decent sized bubble.
Fire, while easy, was still complicated. If your hands were wet or the environment was, it was nearly impossible to create. The flames were born from your body heat, from the environment and sun. Thermal energy transformed physically, and without something warm or dry, it wouldn't work.
Air, on the other hand, was tricky. It took a lot of concentration but could only produce a gust of wind, weak compared to the first time you managed to control it. It was tricky and in fear of losing control, you never went further than calling it, creating light breezes to ripple the water, brush the grass, and when you needed some fun, blow your hair into random positions and shapes. You would lose track of time easily, forgetting to eat or drink a few times, but you always made sure to call Toshinori before school started and in the afternoons. You felt horrible for taking so much time from the other students, but you did miss his company.
In the hospital room, you were trapped with silence and your thoughts, too nervous of the strange adults that entered your room to take vitals or bring meals to communicate with them, another reason you spent so long in the gym/training room. In the evening times during your small breaks, another person would join you in the gym. Besides exchanging names and pleasantries though, he often kept to himself, although you would often find him glancing your way or gawking at you while you trained. You were unsure of his quirk, the boy mostly practicing punches and kicks while he was there, but his kind smile eased your nerves that he was not dangerous.
Four days after you began the semi-intense training regime you walked back to your room only to find the door open. A new hospital bed joined yours and on it sat the Number One Hero, bloody and bruised, his tattered white shirt hanging off of his thin shoulders before it was met with a white bandage soaked with crimson. Your heart dropped to your stomach as memories of the USJ arc hit you. How had you forgotten about it? Were you really that absorbed in yourself that you had forgotten where you were? That means Aizawa and Thirteen were here as well, severely injured. When you first woke up, Inko Midoriya was with you, had talked to Toshinori and knew who he was, knew his power had weakened. None of that was supposed to happen until after this though, the timeline was set, everything should have been safe and in the dormitory arc, so why was it different now? Memories of the show were fuzzy and fading but they were definitely too prominent to have forgotten so soon.
Did my arrival change it that much? Oh god, could Thirteen and Aizawa be hurt worse than they were? Could someone else have been hurt because of me?
Suddenly, the reassurance of the stable timeline vanished. You had changed everything.
Chapter 4: Thirteen and Angry Eyes
Toshinori hadn’t planned for this. In his head, he walked away from the USJ attack, head held high, chest puffed out as he recounted his arrival and involvement in the attack. Afterward, he transformed to quickly address the students present and commend them on their bravery and actions, for fighting back and looking out for one another. He would kick ass, help out his friend and co-worker, catch the villains responsible for the attack. Then, before poofing back into his weaker form, he walked away, making his way to the hospital because surely the girl would see the news reports and would worry.
But again, that was in his head. In reality, he barely succeeded in taking down the Nomu. In reality, he barely had the strength to walk away, and he couldn’t put up much of a fight when the third ambulance took him away to the hospital. He did, however, throw a very manly and adult tantrum when they placed him in the same room as his small child because he didn’t want to alarm or freak her out. But alas, the hospital did not want to take up any new rooms when All Might arrived, because they knew the stubborn man would not stay longer than a day for observation and wound treatment. Everything hurt like hell too. From the scrapes and bruises to the ever-present and currently bleeding flower-like scar on his torso, he was sore and tired from the exertion of power. Like always he was scowling, angry over being late, for nearly getting his students, his legacy, and his friends killed. Had he been faster, Thirteen would not have been harmed by their own black hole, Shota wouldn’t have been slammed into the ground, had his eyes damaged which could, in turn, incapacitate him from being a Hero. And those poor kids, forced to witness these events, forced to fight for their lives with barely any training.
But simmering in these thoughts wouldn’t fix anything. Focusing on the negatives would not help identify the villains responsible or help anyone recover. Instead, Toshinori decided to focus on the current positive in his life, the wonderful girl that literally dropped into his arms. He knew right away she would panic upon seeing his appearance and he didn’t want that. So when Toshi heard footsteps outside of the room, he plastered a smile on his face just in time to watch hers disappear.
“You should see the other guy,” he chuckled as he lifted his arms and flexed his biceps. His laughter was cut short when she spoke, voice soft, scared.
“I did. I saw all of it happen multiple times. The fight with the Nomu was bad, you were hurt. But it wasn’t this bad. You weren’t hurt like this, the wounds are so much worse than they were on a screen.” Her eyes are watering, voice shaking as tears begin to fall.
“What about Aizawa? Thirteen? Oh god, is Thirteen gonna die? I shouldn’t have come here!” Legs shaking, she stumbles backward before leaving the hospital room, sprinting down the hallway too fast for the injured Hero to follow.
Emotions were running high as you raced towards the nurse's station. Regardless of what you were told you were going to see the two Heros to assure they were okay.
Back when this world was just a show, your heart broke after seeing Thirteen be injured. They were such a kind Hero, and the boys must have felt terrible for accidentally leading to the splitting of the class and their subsequent injury. But the show failed to provide an update, failed to say how badly Thirteen was injured and how they were healing up. Being present in this universe made it worse now because now everyone is real; every person is capable of feeling pain. And given how the timeline has changed, anyone could die at any moment and you would have no way to know or prevent it.
As it stands, memories of the anime were beginning to fade and you were afraid that it was because you had changed things. More importantly, you were afraid you could not help anyone, could not give any warning to protect them from harm. You knew it would be bad, but if you could protect even one person in this world, it was worth any repercussion, right?
You were lost in these thoughts, unaware you had passed the nurses station and were heading right for someone until your heads collided and you were knocked backward onto the ground.
“Shit!” The curse flew out of your mouth on instinct. And on instinct, you touched your bruising head, hissing in pain. Shit.
The person picked themselves up and rubbed their forehead from where you collided before reaching down and offering a hand. You took it, using the bandages on your free hand to rub away the moisture on your face. You mumbled apologies before looking at them, then proceeded to repeatedly bow as you yelled sorry. Honestly, was this an appropriate move to make? In anime, bowing seemed totally normal to do but with this is real life now. Is this custom still used here? Because of your tearful and then questioning distractions you had slammed into your gym buddy, leaving a solid two minutes of silence before you realized you should talk. The blush on your face burned and only increased when the boy laughed.
“I’m so sorry, I should have watched where I was going!” He ruffled his messy hair as his cheeks flushed, stopping when he saw your face, red and tear stained from crying. “Is everything okay? Are you hurt?”
You brushed him off with a wave of your hand and forced a smile, dropping the act only when he gives you the I know its fake look.
“Can I ask you for a favour? I need to find some people but I don’t think the hospital will tell me where they are right now.”
He asks you who you’re looking for and grimaces when you speak the Heroes’ names. “I was actually on my way to look for them. I haven’t seen Mr. Aizawa or Thirteen since the attack earlier and I wanted to make sure they were okay.”
You nod along and then stop as recognition hits you. How had I not put two and two together? I’ve seen him every day so far, he even told me his name and I hadn’t realized who he was.
“Oh God, Midoriya, you were there! Are you okay? The attack was pretty bad, was anyone else hurt?” Broccoli Boi turns red at the attention as he shakes his head no, reminding you that you could call him Izuku before excitedly talking about how amazing everyone was as they held their own. The casualties during the incident really only totaled out to three: Aizawa, Thirteen, and the unspoken third, All Might.
He rambled on as he led the way, discussing how his classmates acted mostly calm under the circumstances, how he was able to protect his friends while having total control of his quirk, the cutie nearly spilling about One For All and All Might periodically before changing the subject. The walk ended as you exited the elevator and arrived outside of the ICU wing and the two of you walked in quickly. After a glance at the currently empty nurse's station, you headed to room 413 where Shota Aizawa was resting.
He was heavily wrapped in bandages but the heart monitor ticked on steadily, the whiteboard marking his condition as stable and under mild observation just in case. Across the hall was Thirteen’s room and they were in far worse condition, bandages fully covering their body, IV drips disappearing in the bandages. Thirteen’s Hero suit sat next to them in tatters, nearly half of it missing, the helmet shattered. The heart monitor beeping was slightly irregular and the two of you were silent, no doubt remembering what had happened. The image of Thirteen using their Black Hole on themselves playing on a loop in your mind. The way the suit broke apart, shards and strips tearing away to reveal a gaping black abyss, the fear that hit you even in the real world, that Thirteen was possibly dead.
A hand held yours and you looked away from the scene to see Izuku holding on to your right hand; it had gone back to scratching and clawing subconsciously at your left arm. He squeezed your hand before slowly guiding you to the doors, walking you back to your room, his hand never leaving yours. The two of you walked in to find Toshinori on the chair nearest the door waiting for you, and he smirked, raising one eyebrow when he saw you and his successor holding hands. You both pulled away, regretting the decision once you no longer had the green haired boy’s warmth. You walked to the nearest chair and signaled for Izuku to sit down in the final free one. The poor kid was looking back and forth between the Number One Hero and you, piecing two and two together once he realized you were the girl who had captured his attention for so long. Apparently during your stay at the hospital, he had either never seen you or your face, or was unable to recognize you when you were awake and kicking metaphorical ass.
“How are they doing?” Toshinori asked, glancing back and forth at the two of you. Izuku spoke for the both of you, repeating what you had seen. You nodded along, the conversation slowly being lost on you as your focus went back to the three Heroes. Recollecting future events was hard, the memories becoming somewhat out of focus and all over the place.
After taking your time on the way back, you were able to think and focus more. Knowledge of the future, however accurate or inaccurate it may be, is dangerous. Acting on that knowledge could change the future further, which in turn could have negative or positive effects. Not regarding the butterfly effect that could happen just from you breathing, having a completely unknown future would not be good as the repercussions could end up tenfold. Of course, this was something to discuss with Toshi when the two of you were alone, but for now, you were more leaning towards no. The risks outweigh the positives and you refused to be responsible for another injured person.
“All right then, what do you think, Star? Is it a deal?” Toshinori’s nickname for you grabbed your attention, forcing you back into the present.
“Oh yeah, uh, sure.” You shook your head to clear the daze. “Wait, what did I just agree to?”
“Why, you just agreed to let Young Midoriya train you a couple of times a week. It will be good practice, learning from someone your age. Especially because he’s in the Heroes course at UA and can offer some insight on the rules and restrictions of having a quirk.” Toshi looked proud of himself as if taking advantage of your absent mindedness and making you and his legacy training buddies were the best thing ever. Granted it was well worth the experience, learning from the Number One Hero as well as from a person your age would make the sudden quirk and change in worlds easier. You looked at Izuku and smiled, imagining the fun times you would have together.
“Okay, sure! It’ll be fun and I’m sure there’s a lot for me to learn.” The fist pump and sound Izuku Midoriya made as he cheered melted your heart.
A knock at the door ended the discussion as Shota Aizawa appeared, nodding at the beaming Izuku ‒whether in thanks or acknowledgment, you were unsure‒ before he asked to speak with All Might. Toshinori nodded before rising, wincing at the movement. It took everything in you not to stand and help him; he’s the Symbol of Peace, not a walker-bound elderly male. The idea itself was cute though, you couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped your lips, nor the questioning look he offered before walking outside of the room.
With the adults gone, you and Izuku looked at one another in silence before he spoke, pulling out a notebook. His voice was lower, more serious this time.,
“I’ve been analyzing your progress as you trained, and I wanted to ask a few questions so we could better understand your quirk.” Pencil poised, Izuku Midoriya looked ready to kill versus interview, and his passion was intoxicating. Nodding for him to begin, you prepped yourself for the onslaught of questions.
“What does your quirk entail? Is it the environment as a whole or just a few aspects of it? How long have you had it for? Are any of them easier to use than others? Do you feel totally in control of each one? Which one would you say is harder to control? Oh! Which one is your favourite? How far have you been able to go energy wise? Do you feel low on stamina afterward or do you feel fine? Is this intensity the most you are able to go or just what you are doing for now?” Oh dear lord, this child could come up with questions. If he didn’t have them written down, there would be no way for you to remember them all and answer correctly.
“Jesus fuck, Izuku, give me a minute to think.” A breath. ”Okay, to begin with, my quirk entails elemental powers and to my knowledge, that would be water, fire, and air. I um, I’m not sure how long I’ve had it, but no more than three weeks at most. Being in a coma kinda fucks up your sense of time. Water was the first element to I guess appear? There were floating water drop prisms, and then the flying bath water, so I guess that would be the easiest. Fire is so fucking terrifying though,” you muse. “It hasn’t burned me, but I lost control the first time, and on my own it brought up some bad memories...”
Your voice softened to a whisper, but you were quick to continue. “Air is still new, but it’s strong. I can’t control how it moves just yet, but I can certainly push it and move it as fast or as slow as I want.”
Izuku wrote frantically as you spoke to quote you word for word, the determined look and occasional tongue poking out a really adorable sight among the quirk-interrogation. He drew little doodles next to your words: little water spheres and ropes shining lights all over, a fire with a small smiley face on it with the words ‘Friendly Fire, doesn’t injure’‒very weird to see in such a professionally-kept notebook‒ and a tiny tornado with wind squiggles shooting off from it with the question Is she capable of this? underlined. Once sure he was caught up, you continued.
“I don’t have a favourite, or at least not at the moment. As for intensity and stamina, I have not gone even close to my limits. This is probably just a small portion of what I can do, but until I have a good handle on them, I don't want to press my luck. And since I am sure you’ll ask anyways, I don’t create the fire, wind or water. It’s like, I can feel it all around me, and at any moment they’ll be with me. I don’t create a spark or water, but I transfer its form. The water in the oxygen collects and grows on its own. I’m not sure how to say it, but it’s like, by accumulating a few drops, suddenly there's an abundance of water present. I do not steal all the water from the air, it just... appears.
“Fire is different, though. If I think about flames, the warmth and light it gives off, it’s like I focus in on it. The sun provides light and heat, and the energy then becomes a fire. For instance, thermal energy can come from the sun or my body. When it’s from me though, it feels really warm. Whatever my temperature was, it changes, and I get really hot. I feel no difference, like being really hot is normal for my body, but you could feel and sometimes see that something is off. I was chewing on ice when I tried, and it melted almost instantly in my mouth, and my cup was heating up and melting so fast steam came off of it. I don’t know if this makes sense to you because this all feels normal to me? It’s weird, I know it’s not normal or natural, but this just works for me. Air is easy to explain, though. Outdoors there is always a breeze and currents about, I just amplify them and move them around. Indoors, AC units provide moving air. People talking, breathing, walking all create movement, and if there is absolutely none, I’m able to move around the atmosphere. It doesn’t leave a space without air, just carries the energy and movement around.”
You had begun rambling again about your quirk and the new information you gained each day. Back in real life, you failed to have any real friends or people to talk to. At school, the teenagers were quick to judge and even quicker to attack you, and ‘home’ had never been safe or welcoming enough to speak up in. On good days it was quiet, on great days it was empty, but on normal days, it was just you, hiding from people and voices, commands and actions. The beaten up laptop you bought, and the barely-working headphones an oasis in the desert. When you could ramble, it was always to yourself about life, actions, and sometimes even just to have company when it was quiet.
All in all, talking to yourself was a positive habit and a half, especially because it made rationalizing or debating things easier. Sharing with another person was thrilling and foreign to you, and knowing that Hero expert Izuku Midoriya was writing it down and would be helping you improve it was a good enough incentive to talk. Knowing he would soon begin muttering to himself as he wrote, you stood and walked to the window to stare outside. Being placed on the first floor was probably intentional. You may not have been awake to hear it, but the doctors asked questions and talked. They more than likely decided the first floor was safest, and if you asked what for, they would say something along the lines of “It’s closest to the nurse's station.” A lie , or “This is the Coma ward’s location.” Also a lie, that would be the Intensive Care Unit. Where two Heroes resided, and that was fine by you. Besides, the view from the first floor was still breathtaking to you; Japan is so new and foreign, it would take years before it began to bore you.
Focused on the slowly receding sun, you jumped, smacking into the window frame when a hand landed on your shoulder. You turn to the person, releasing a breath you were unaware you were holding when you looked up at Eraserhead. He asked for you to follow him and you do, waving at Izuku as you step outside of the room.
Waiting for you stood Toshinori and Principal Nezu, the ever-present teacup nowhere to be seen. He offered a kind smile to you, or at least you hoped it was. Honestly, you could never tell with Nezu.
“Good evening–” Nezu was cut off by Toshinori’s overly faked cough. God, the balls on this man, to interrupt Nezu of all people.
“Ah yes, Star, I wanted you present while we discussed your status here in Japan. As a minor, it is in your best interest that we enroll you into a school so that you may further your education.” The terrifying principal blinked at you as a different voice spoke.
“I requested we enroll you at UA–”
“–And I requested we deny you entrance.” Aizawa crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, his tired and angry eyes fixated on the wall next to your head. “The school year has already started. Students are already assigned to near-full capacity classes, you’ve not even taken the entrance exam, and after today, the timing is worse than if we considered this last week. The Press was already on our asses thanks to Toshinori’s sudden decision to work here, after someone got on campus and set off the alarms, and most importantly, the attack at the Unforeseen Simulation Joint, allowing you to join our school would be a reckless decision.” While Aizawa was blunt, his words were not meant to hold malice, just state the facts.
Toshinori, however, had his own facts.“UA is probably the safest place for her at the moment. We are still unsure of what her quirk entails and how it functions, in addition, with the Sports Festival coming up it can allow more practice and training. Her skill levels won’t be enough to put her high on the leaderboard so cameras won't focus on her or draw attention, and she could use the exposure to other students and quirks. With everything that happened today, I don’t want to send her off to another Hero Academy until we can detain the people responsible for today.”
Toshinori and Aizawa were going back and forth, and it didn’t look like Nezu would join in any time soon. In fact, he was more focused on your face than the two men bickering, and it unnerved you enough to make you want to speak up.
“If it’s an issue, I’m willing to take the entrance exam to see if I am eligible to attend. If I do somehow pass, you can place me anywhere you think is best for me, I don’t care if it’s in the Heroes course or the General Studies course. If I may, I feel would feel unsafe going to any other location. As it is, Japan is a different country. I’ve never been here before, and I only really know of UA because…” Trailing off, you questioned if you should say how their world was just a show and manga where you were from. The look on Aizawa’s face told you they already knew, and you were grateful that Toshinori told them for you. It made relying on people a bit easier because they could assist you when you had questions. Like if I should let the future happen or try to intervene.
“Alright, let’s go from there. When you get released from the hospital, you can arrive at the High School prepared to take the written entrance exam. It shall be graded shortly after you finish, and if you score high enough You will earn a trial seat in one of our classes.” Nezu finalizes his statement with a sip of tea. How does he always have tea around? “I must get going now, pardon me.”
You wave goodbye to the genius rodent before asking All Might if he knew when you were being discharged from the hospital. He offers a smile and thumbs up when he says, “Tomorrow.” Alright then, guess you had one day to leave this room, get settled in somewhere and then either tomorrow or the day after, you would take an exam you know nothing about, and have no way to study for. Fan-fucking-tastic.
The following night was spent in a restless state. Toshinori was asleep in the hospital bed across the room, and his light snores did little to alleviate the stress that was building up. In all honesty, even if you wanted to study, it would be impossible. The hospital lacked a library and you were unsure where one even was, to begin with. So that left three possibilities.
One, continue suffering in this room, trying to be as still and silent as possible but failing miserably.
Two, go back to the gymnasium and hope you could exhaust yourself.
Or three, wander around and possibly get lost, all in the hopes of learning to navigate the neighbourhood and possibly find something new and cool.
So rationally, option three was best.
Quietly you slid off the bed and made your way to the bathroom so that you could change into your one and only outfit: the ever cozy but unattractive hospital tracksuit. You opened the wardrobe and winced when it squeaked, ducking low to the ground when Toshi shifted and let out a soft sigh. You remained crouched as you tried to look, frustrated because of how dark it was. Sure, 12 am was late and definitely dark, but it seemed like not even street lights from outside or from the hallway could permeate it and the thought was causing you to panic.
Taking some deep breaths, you returned to full height and rifled through the few hospital gowns, annoyed you could not find an ass-covering outfit.
Stumbling as silently as you could muster, you snap your fingers, proud when a small flame was born from the friction. You used the light to move through the darkness, questioning if you were again seeing things when the black shadows ran from the lights, whisps waving and jolting, the darkness giving away to allow dim visibility. Opening every cabinet and drawer, frustration building when each attempt comes up empty.
Returning back to the wardrobe, you attempt one more time to search for it, the light from the flames revealing a small safe. Curiosity gets the better of you and you turn the handle to open it, but as expected, it is locked. Using the power of fan knowledge, you press the number pad, 0 6 1 0, both glad for your knowledge and disappointed the pin was so easy to figure out. Intrigue overtook the guilt you may have had once the door popped open, revealing phone and wallet. Well, more specifically it was your wallet and phone. The smartphone looked different here, more squared and lighter than you remembered it to be, the spiderwebbing cracks looking sharper than before. On the other hand, your wallet was still the same well-worn rectangle you knew and loved. Inside of the wallet was old receipts and wrappers, as well as $52 US dollars. You released the flames and held onto the power button, relief rushing through you when the screen lit up. You cradled it against your chest as the bright light flashed and pushed apart the dark shadows, moving almost catlike away from the light sources around you. The shadows were peculiar and starling beyond all hell, but acknowledging them could probably just make them worse, or so you rationalized, so ignorance it was!
It takes a few moments for the phone to start up and the auto-brightness setting to kick in and save your eyes from the blinding light, allowing you to check out how things somehow transferred worlds. Of course the few notifications you got were for games, the anime alerts and schoolwork alerts unable to exist in a world where the school and creators never even existed. Trying to clear the notifications, you accidentally unlock it and come across the familiar arrangement of icons. Or at least what was left of them in this world. The basic factory default apps; clock, phone, messages, calculator et cetera were still there, but most everything else was gone or with a different name. Youtube had changed to a similar name and style, but you knew none of the Youtubers or videos you were used to would be there. The wallpaper itself had reverted back to its original setup, the old season 3 wallpaper you had no longer real when the characters that made it up are now living and breathing. The battery level was at 43%, and if you wanted to travel and have some way to contact for help if you got lost, you would have to make it last. You enabled battery saver mode and locked the screen, pressing the power button to momentarily check the time and the lock screen wallpaper.
The sight caused your heart to clench. Two tall female figures standing next to your hunched form, timid smile plastered fakely on your face as you remained trapped between the two figures. Remembering this day was hard, it was a few days before you arrived here, and the two semi-friends you had wanted to take a selfie. They snatched your phone and locked you between them, arms wrapped around your shoulders as they snapped a few photos all the while you told them you didn't want to, that you felt uncomfortable with it. They laughed as they messed around with your phone settings, changing the lock screen and background to their favourite images before handing it back to you and doing the same to their phones. You, ever desperate to have some sort of companionship, left the lock screen image but changed the background wallpaper back to the correct one, afraid they would be mad with you had you changed both. That day was stressful class-wise and was none too good once you returned home either.
But while the memory hurt, that was not the issue today. The issue was that, while their bodies looked fine, their faces were blurred streaks, unidentifiable and terrifying to look at, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to change it. It was an abhorrent part of your past, of the life that brought you here, and while they were not fond memories, they were still just that, your memories, your life. And the idea of completely erasing that was excruciatingly painful.
You tucked the phone into your waistband and walked towards Toshinori, tucking him in and brushing the stray hairs from his forehead. He looked so young and fragile when asleep, a pain so deep and tragic etched on his face as if he were being haunted, and maybe that was true. As a Hero, he's seen and done more than any person could even imagine. But the brief moments your fingers brushed his face seemed to cause relief because the grimace slid into a peaceful smile and it stirred a need to get him something to comfort him.
Finding a pen and loose paper you wrote a small note, writing the time, your phone number (whether it worked or not, you had no clue) and an IOU note, you signed your name with the comments “Don’t worry, I’m fine. I'll be back soon.” You slipped it next to his bed and quickly googled the currency exchange rate from US dollars to yen, making sure to write the amount on the note next to the American money you replaced it with. It was too late to go to a bank for an exchange, but you had to make sure you didn't spend too much in case you got the exchange rate information wrong. At 1:12 am you were finally able to leave the room dressed in semi-dirty clothes, slipping out the window to avoid any doctors or nurses from stopping you.
You thanked whatever gods existed in the anime world for allowing you to work on your stamina while in the hospital because the long trek down the path was starting to take its toll on you now; it was hard to imagine what condition you would be in if you had tried this over a week ago. The cool breeze mixed with the somewhat subconscious control of the wind helped keep you cool and allowed you to catch your breath faster and in no time you found yourself walking down the decently empty streets.
While the lights were on, many stores were closed, having locked up hours prior so that the workers could get some well-earned sleep. You walked head down, staying close to the walls and shadows, hesitating at every alleyway and darkened doorway before striding on into an open convenience store.
The store was brightly lit, a mini market holding all kinds of treasure, from food to toys, even clothes, which you took advantage of and began perusing the limited section.
Settling on black leggings and a wine coloured long sleeve shirt, you paid and changed in the bathroom. Once settled, you placed the old wares in the trash so that you can once again look around. Among the toy section, a cute plushie caught your eye and you found yourself reaching for it, the little turtle officially coming back with you. Afterward, you walked to the fridge units, grabbing a few canned coffees and handfuls of snacks. Your hands were full too fast when you unceremoniously dumped them on the counter, apologising profusely for the mess you were making. The young male attendant cocked his brow at you, stifling a laugh when your eyes widened in the direction of the taiyaki stand. Deliberating what to grab you settled on the original filling, paying for all of the items.
You stepped outside of the store, arms full, taiyaki barely in your hands as you began the journey back, hair falling in your eyes. With arms occupied, you couldn’t move your hair, so you focused on pushing it away with the wind, focusing hard on just moving the annoying strands lightly when you slammed blindly into an object. The object spoke, curses slipping out of his mouth in two different octaves as he dropped his cigarette to grab you.
“Watch where you're going! Oh shit, are you okay, kid?” His voice was loud, not in an angry way, but in a more annoyed, “I can’t be bothered right now” way. It took a minute to realize you had run into someone and you bowed deeply, apologising like crazy for hitting him. He shoved his hands into his pocket, pulling out a lighter and another cigarette before he spoke again.
“My bad kid, should have watched where I was going because it looks like you really can’t.”
With the way his eyes were trailing, you could tell he was just being observant rather than mean, and his eyes flashed back to yours after he saw your fallen comrade, the poor unwrapped taiyaki resting sadly on the cement. He started walking, muttering to himself as he signaled with his finger to follow him. Tentatively you followed him back the way you came, surprised he lead you back to the convenience store you had just left. He grabbed three taiyaki from the stand, paying for them before handing you a bag holding two of the treats.
“The red bean ones are okay, but the chocolate ones are better. Enjoy them. And be careful out here alone so late, kid. There are all kinds of villains lurking in the dark.” With a wave he walked off, giving you no time to thank him or respond. He was gone when you made it outside, vanishing in thin air only seconds after you had seen him. With an awkward shrug, you head back to the hospital, deliberating what the hell had just happened.
“That was fucking weird,” you began, kicking at a stone on the sidewalk. “But at least I got free food?”
You ran possibilities of who he was through your head. His voice was familiar, but you could not pinpoint from where, nor did his face ring any bells. The way he muttered, almost as if he was talking to himself. The way he would grimace during these moments, hands twitching upwards as if to grab his head. Most of all, his scars were peculiar. They were long, jagged lacerations running down his face as if a knife tried to separate him in two. But while these scars were certainly unique they were not that unusual if you considered he could have been injured in a quirk-based accident or attack. He could be a normal civilian, a Hero, maybe even a Villain, but you were unsure which option was most valid.
Upon reaching the hospital you settled on the notion that none of these questions or their answers mattered because he was just some stranger you would never meet again, but at least the waste of time made the walk go by faster.
On our way to meet Class 1-A, give it another chapter though! Sorry for the Delay!