Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Smoothing down the fabric of her skirt one last time, she meets her reflection's eyes. It's disconcerting to see dark indigo looking back at her, but Kisara figures it best to get used to it as soon as possible. Combing a hand through her darkened hair, she sighs and turns away. 

No way to go but forward, now.

She's not even one step out of the apartment door when kindly Umeki-obaa throws open her own door, cheeks flushed a rosy red. Her verdant eyes glitter in thinly concealed excitement as she holds out a neatly wrapped bento for her to take. Quickly locking the door behind her, Kisara steps forward and takes the bento with a demure smile. 

"You didn't have to, Umeki-obaa, really...", she trails off, feeling her own cheeks heat up.

Umeki-oba has been nothing but hospitable and kind to her ever since she moved in a few months ago, even going so far as to bake her treats every now and then. It feels wrong to accept when she can't reciprocate these gestures in any way.

"Nonsense, child," the old woman chides, warm and worn hands grasping one of her own. "I did it because I wanted to and nothing you say will make me regret it. Now, best get going or you'll miss your train, young lady."

They share a laugh and then she's out the door, hurrying to catch the train. 

.

The constant press of people's bodies against her own proves to be as horrid as ever; the morning commute is always filled with chattering teens, wailing children and annoyed businessmen and -women alike. Kisara sighs tiredly and resolves to take an earlier train starting the day after. Maybe that way she can avoid the masses...

She tries to busy herself with her phone, but her nerves win out and she is left with her spiralling thoughts, blankly staring ahead. Countless scenarios float through her mind, each worse than the last. While she knows very well that her mind can be both her greatest asset and her worst enemy, that awareness does little to steady her trembling fingers. 

"Hey, you!", a little boy tears himself from his mother's hand, shoving through the people to reach her. Taken aback she catches him when he threatens to run straight into her legs. 

"You shouldn't run off like that, your mother looks worried already," she says. Glad to be wearing tights, she doesn't hesitate to bend down and balances the boy on her hip, then pressing through the throng of tired people to reach the mother looking more panicked by the second. 

"I saw your uniform," the boy lisps, grinning up at her. "My big sister says that means you go to the best Hero School!" 

"I don't know if Yuuei is the best there is, but it's certainly among them," she replies, to his obvious delight. The boy's mother then catches sight of them, looking close to tears already. With a girl about nine or ten at her side, the young mother moves to meet them halfway. She immediately takes her son from Kisara's arms, hugging him fiercely.

Then the panic and shock seem to wear off and she starts chastising him: "Hayashi Yaso, what were you thinking? If the nice girl hadn't brought you back to us, do you know what could have happened to you? What if you hurt yourself or-" 

The little boy, Hayashi Yaso, interrupts her with a frantic shake of the head. "Nee-chan is way nice! She would never! And I just wanted to ask if she's going to the cool Hero School!" Here, he starts pouting and his mother sends her daughter a frustrated look. 

"It was of no issue, Hayashi-san. Yaso-kun was lucky it was me, yes, but now that his question has been answered, I'm sure he won't be so quick to run off again." The frazzled mother only then seems to remember her continued presence and hastily bows in gratitude.

"Really, thank you so much for your patience with him! He usually never runs off... but ever since Shiho set that thought in his head, he's been so unruly whenever he spots a Yuuei uniform." The daughter, Shiho, doesn't appear very interested in the happenings around her, instead fiddling with a Rubik's cube. 

"It's alright, Hayashi-san, I have an older sibling as well; I understand completely. I hope you have a good day now, Yaso-kun, Shiho-chan and Hayashi-san, but I'm afraid this is my stop."

All hail the train conductor!

.

After little Yaso-kun's curiosity and Hayashi-san's insistent thankfulness, Kisara feels very drained. Not even one step into the school building and her social battery is all but dead!

Pursing her lips in displeasure, she tries to navigate the purposely confusing layout of the school. Every little thing grates her strained nerves. 

After another three hallways that all look exactly the same, she decides to suck it up and starts scanning the students milling around the halls for someone that doesn't have the first-year confusion written all over their face. And, score-

"Hey, sorry to interrupt, but do you know where-"

"The classrooms for the first year Hero course are?", the boy she's asked finishes dryly, rubbing the bridge of his nose with a deep and tired sigh. His companion, a girl about Kisara's age, punches him lightly in the shoulder.

"Don't be so rude, Nao-kun," the blonde exclaims. Then she turns towards Kisara, leaning forwards conspiratorially, "Sorry about him, he's a real grump before he's had his first coffee." She pauses. "I'm Seo Imari, by the way. This grump goes by Miya Naohiro. We're in 3-B, so we know our way around and can totally show you to your room!" 

"Suzuki Mei, pleased to make your acquaintance." Kisara bows and tries to ignore the familiar taste of ash and copper in the back of her throat. 

"Great! Come along, Suzuki-chan! We're gonna have to make a pit stop at a vending machine if we don't want Nao-kun scaring the next hapless first year." Seo-senpai giggles and sidesteps Miya-senpai's half-hearted kick easily. 

"That's fine, Seo-senpai, thank you so much," Kisara says, feeling both saddened and happier at this casual dynamic. They seem close. Familiar with each other. At ease, too. Maybe that's what it would have been like if- anyway.

"So, you're obviously Hero course, but what class?", Seo-senpai asks as she leads the way, flanked by herself and Miya-senpai. 

"1-A," she says, trying to memorize the way they're going. "How did you know I'm in the Hero course, though?"

"Your uniform," Miya-senpai murmurs, tapping on the golden buttons on his shoulder. There's one on each side.

Trying to see what he means, Kisara turns her head this way and that way, trying to catch sight of someone with more or fewer buttons on their shoulders. Four corridors along, she sees a tall girl with fascinating eyelashes and pink hair, shoulders adorned with two golden buttons per side.

"So, two on each shoulder is another department?", she tries to clarify, frowning.

"Yeah, got it in one," Seo-senpai enthuses, stopping in a hallway like any other, except there's a vending machine nestled into a niche.

Frustrated, Kisara puts her face in her hands, sighing long and deeply. 

"I will never stop getting lost in this stupid school," she whines. Miya-senpai laughs lowly and claps her on the shoulder, moving past and throwing some coins into the machine. 

"You'll get the hang of it soon," he assures. "D'you want anything?", he asks, gesturing towards the different options. Drawing closer, she starts rummaging through her bag, trying to locate her wallet, only for it to suddenly fly out of her hands towards Seo-senpai, winking at her as she catches it out of thin air. 

Telekinesis, Kisara thinks.

"This one's on us. Think of it as a... welcoming gift!" The blonde teen grins, looking quite like the cat that caught the canary.

"Thank you very much, senpai." Kisara bows once more and gets pulled straight by Seo-senpai in almost the same breath. 

"Nonsense, you'll need your drink of choice sooner rather than later." And with that ominous statement, Miya-senpai shoves a carton of, eerily, her favourite strawberry milk drink into her hands, holding three cans of coffee himself. He cracks one open and nods solemnly at his friend's words. 

"Why?", she dares ask, poking the plastic straw into the perforation. Seo-senpai pops up again behind her classmate, having acquired a green tea herself. With all transactions finished, Seo-senpai deigns to return her wallet.

"You're in 1-A," Miya-senpai simply shrugs and starts leading the way again.

"What's that got to do with anything?" She's not sure she actually wants to hear the answer.

"Your homeroom teacher is great," Seo-senpai says, turning around and walking backwards, seemingly not even sparing a glance at her surroundings and avoiding obstacles anyway. "He's just very unique."

.

Turns out, her homeroom teacher is quite unique in terms of teaching methods. No school assembly for Class 1-A, no tour of the building, no icebreakers to further interpersonal relationships, no nothing. 

Kisara's thoughts are one endless repetition of What the fuck? as they're led to the locker rooms, heading towards a stretch of land behind the school building where they're to take an assessment test. Of their quirks, probably, but, still, she's very baffled and feels like Seo-senpai and Miya-senpai could have given her more of a warning.

"Man, what kind of sociopath had this idea?", a pink-skinned girl whines, equally pink curls bouncing with every movement.

"Wouldn't put it past the principal," Kisara comments quietly, sweeping her hair into a simple braid and securing the typical flyaways with bobby pins. Pink girl snorts in humour, sending her a thumbs-up, mouth otherwise occupied with taking a swig from her water bottle.

"Does someone have a spare hair tie?", a brown-haired girl with a cute bob cut grimaces. The girl with the earlobe mutation hands her one with a cute little charm attached to it, smiling in solidarity. Seems as if no one quite expected this turn of events on their first day.

Once everyone is finished, the girls of Class 1-A file out as one, beating about half of the boys to the field where their teacher is waiting for them. 

A few minutes after that and, finally, everyone has changed and is ready as they can be. 

They're to complete a quirk assessment, combined with the typical physical fitness tests everyone and their mother always does in middle school. To demonstrate what results can be achieved with a quirk in the mix, he calls up a blond boy with ruby eyes. His result is a bit loud on her ears but very impressive nonetheless: he throws the ball a bit further than seven-hundred metres, aided by his explosion-related quirk.  

Sighing internally when her classmates comment on how fun this exercise is going to be, she can't even find it within herself to be surprised when their teacher announces that the student that's ranked last will be expelled from the school, effective immediately. It's, truthfully, a scary prospect and she can already see despair settling into the bones of some of her classmates, whereas the others just seem to grow more determined by this announcement.

Curiously, she sees their teacher carefully observing their individual reactions. It gets her thinking...

He leads them to the fifty-metre dash first, calling up one Aoyama Yuuga and Ashido Mina as the first pair to go at it. Ashido, as it turns out, is the pink-skinned girl that complained about the existence of physical exercise on their first school day. Aoyama is a boy with carefully styled blond hair and eyes that seem to sparkle even at a distance. - Between the two of them, Ashido is slightly faster. 

She takes care to observe the names and faces that go along with them, doing her best to memorize who's who. After a while, Todoroki Shouto, a boy with split hair and eye colours, and then herself get called to the start.

She crouches low to the ground, fingertips mere inches from the white line. From the corner of her eyes, she can see Todoroki's breath start to fog; an elemental quirk or simply something related to heat distribution, molecules or atoms.

At the signal, she pushes herself from the ground, gaining momentum and gliding to the end of the track easily and swiftly. The robot on her side calls out her result with a staticky voice, then about one or two seconds later that of Todoroki. The glare sent in her direction is one of icy fury. Kisara shrugs in answer; she doesn't really care at all. 

They clear the field for the last few groups, then they're marched to a table with twenty machines lying in wait that are supposed to measure their grip strength. Kisara takes one of them for herself, observing as her classmates gingerly grip the handle, results starting to be called out left and right.

Thinking it over carefully, she lightly takes it into hand and- well. Avian strength, right? Equals an even ninety-two kilograms. 

A few of her classmates squint at her petite and wiry build when her results get called out, unsure how her so far not-apparent quirk factors into this result and how much of that grip strength is truly her own, quirks aside. A nervous boy with green hair and freckles like grains of sand at the beach, Midoriya she thinks, is looking between her and his certainly more toned arms with a despairing expression. 

After that it's the standing long jump and that's just very effortless and very boring, but it does bear a certain comedic effect when her classmates try to figure out her apparently mercurial quirk. She clears the sandbox easily and gets squinted at by at least six different people. On any other day this scrutiny might have caused her to snap or withdraw into herself completely, but she's so far past done she doesn't even care anymore.

The repeated side steps go by smoothly enough, no one really being able to benefit from their quirks bar maybe the ponytail girl, Yao-something, or the smarmy purple boy she doesn't even care to learn the name of. 

Seated toe-touch and then the sit-ups are easy enough, considering how she trained herself on the basis of being quick, agile, flexible and hard to pin. That training comes in handy enough when her flexibility is now off the charts, worth every curse and all the sweat she shed.

The distance run passes quickly, endurance and stamina not being something she lacks in particular. Granted, her feet do feel a bit sore after, and she sighs as she moves to the side, rubbing her faintly throbbing ankle, dust around her rising as she ruffles her feathers in exasperation at Yaoyo-girl's utterly ridiculous quirk that's seemingly able to create anything and everything she sets her mind to.

Predictably, lastly, they get to participate in the ball throw that the ruby-eyed boy, Bakugou, already demonstrated at the start.

When she gets called up, it’s a matter of seconds for her to attach a feather and throw it, the feather carrying it as far as her range allows, which turns out to be–

”893 metres.”

It’s easily the highest score so far, bar infinity. (Which, what the fuck, by the way.)

After her, it's technically Bakugou's turn but since he already went, it's Midoriya that gets to have a go at it. He has been another student that's visibly not been using a quirk and she can't help but give both her classmates and her teacher the side-eye when the students start clamouring about him never even using his quirk. How would they know? If it were a mental quirk, how would anyone ever know?

His first attempt gets thwarted by their own fucking teacher, who tells him to stop breaking his bones while utilizing his quirk, which, harsh. Maybe he came to Yuuei because he thought they could help him control his quirk and turn its destructiveness firmly to the outside and away from his own fucking body. So in conclusion, teacher-man has a point, but she doesn't think he has all the facts.

Midoriya still breaks his fucking finger on his second attempt and looks very proud of it. Kisara just kind of stares at him for a moment and then gives up.

It's been a long day, is all she can say.

Despite breaking his bones, (or maybe because of it?) Midoriya still comes in last, followed by smarmy purple and the kind hair tie-giving girl, Jirou. 

She’s ranked 7th herself, beating out a boy with a tail mutation, Ojirou, by a small margin of points. 

Despite teacher-man's earlier threats, Midoriya does not end up expelled, but smarmy purple does; for attaching himself to poor ponytail during the long-distance run and groping her when he thought the teacher wouldn’t see. Teacher-man is very unapologetic and unforgiving even in the face of smarmy purple's wailing.

"Yuuei takes harassment of any kind very seriously," he says sternly, sending a red-tinged glare over the lot of them. Kisara sees quite a few people flinch back from it, but she's more fascinated by the wonderfully idiotic idea of leaving one's hair open and grab-ready when a side-effect of the quirk is making said hair float. 

Bemused, she watches as he’s frog-marched by their teacher to the principal’s office. Pausing mid-step as if remembering something, he calls over his shoulder that they can expect a physical examination the next day, then rounds the corner and all they can hear is smarmy purple's faint cries.

Chapter Text

Despite deciding to take an earlier train, Kisara finds herself almost late to school that day. 

Thankfully, Umeki-oba became concerned when she wasn't leaving home at a certain time and rang her doorbell, thus finally waking her up. Turns out that she forgot to plug in her phone and with no power, of course, the alarm she set cannot ring.

After rushing through her morning routine and frantically looking for her power bank, she sets out the door and rushes to the train station, just barely catching the train. She's left trying to tame her windswept hair she hasn't even had a chance to brush, much less straighten. 

Sighing in resignation, Kisara finds herself a seat and sinks into it with a boneless sigh, trying to right the mess she made out of her tie in the rush. Two stops pass by, and then someone familiar enters the carriage: Miya-senpai. Her upperclassman immediately catches sight of her and sidles up to her.

"Rough morning?", he asks, eyeing her tie in badly hidden amusement. 

"More like a rushed morning," she replies, slightly chagrined. 

"I can see that," he says. "Do you want help with that tie?" She doesn't even want to look at it, but if he wants to, he can be her guest.

"If you are able to fix that mess, sure," she snorts. He leans in and gently untangles the fabric, then re-ties it the proper way, a look of intense concentration on his face.

"There you go," he pronounces after a brief moment, expression clearing. It barely took him a minute, which is quite unfair, she thinks, but understandable given that he has had way more practice than her. 

Miya-senpai leans back again, hands falling into his lap. To her confusion, he lets his eyes travel up and down her body not once, but twice. He sighs deeply, then rakes a hand through his petal pink strands, thoroughly ruffling it so it ends up sticking up in all kinds of directions. 

"Why did you-?", she starts, brows furrowing. He pauses, blinking as if he expected any other question but this. He gives a sheepish smile that seems out of place on his generally expressionless or plain tired face. 

"My quirk," he says and doesn't elaborate, so Kisara decides not to push. He has been nothing but nice to her, after all. It wouldn't do to repay his kindness like that, by being pushy and nosy when it's clearly not wanted. 

"In any case, thank you," she shakes her head, gesturing at her properly tied tie. 

He smirks at her. "Any time," and mockingly wiggles his fingers in her direction. She tries to bite her lips to prevent a smile from spilling forth but it's of no use. 

.

They're greeted by Seo-senpai at Yuuei's gates, her arms crossed and her feet tapping impatiently. She levels Miya-senpai with an annoyed look, yet her violet eyes soften considerably when she sees Kisara.

"Oh, Suzuki-chan! Did you miss your train?" She bounces up to them, hugging Miya-senpai with the ease of someone that's done this a million times before. She pats Kisara's shoulder and takes her spot on Miya-senpai's other side when they start walking onto the school grounds. 

"I overslept," she says, grimacing. Smoothing down her slightly-rumpled blazer, she moves to the side as a tall brunette runs past them with no eyes for any poor passers-by. 

"Oh no! But hey, you're still on time, so it all worked out in the end!" Seo-senpai bends forward to catch her eye and graces her with a lopsided grin, long blonde hair falling into her eyes. Reflexively, Kisara smiles back. 

"Look how concerned you are for someone you've only known for a day and then look at how you're neglecting poor old me, only your best friend since primary school," her senpai says, rolling his eyes and grabbing Seo-senpai's elbow to steer her away from a gaggle of laughing teenage boys she was bound to run into. Seo-senpai simply sticks out her tongue, eyes gleaming with mirth.

"I would show more concern if this wasn't per the usual with you," she huffs, holding the door for them. 

"I don't know what you mean, 'mari. I'm the most punctual person in the whole world," Miya-senpai replies faux-haughtily, expertly switching shoes with minimal effort. With his back turned he can't see the highly dubious looks both Seo-senpai and a bypassing teacher give him, almost making Kisara laugh. 

She shakes her head at their banter, amused despite herself. 

"It's lovely to see you two," she says, changing her footwear. "But I better get going or I might actually end up being late." 

"Yeah, not with Aizawa, you don't," Seo-senpai murmurs darkly, then brightens and waves her off with a promise to exchange numbers next they see each other. Miya-senpai waves more at her as he's become involved in a conversation between a girl with long periwinkle hair and another with deep pink hair shorn close to her scalp. 

.

Despite her fears to be the last to arrive, she beats both Ashido and infinity-girl to class, dropping into her seat with a tired sigh.

The masked and many-armed boy next to her gives a slight nod that she returns in kind. He might just be the man of her dreams as he has no desire to engage in idle chit-chat and simply continues reading the book balanced in his lap.

The relative calm bubble surrounding her is soon popped when the ruby-eyed boy behind her starts screaming about something or other, which is just charming. And definitely not headache-inducing, no, whyever would you think that?

.

Kisara once again bears witness to a truth that many children are forced to discover: School is annoying, boring and threatens to drain her of what little is left of her will to live. And horribly dull. Can't forget that. 

The short homeroom period at the start of the day is nothing more than a passing of forms they need their parents to sign, as well as a run-down of the most prominent school rules.

Teacher-man, who also goes by Aizawa-sensei, then reminds them of their physical wellness checks set for the end of the day, after their first Hero Basics class. 

He just... kind of ignores that their class has one student less than when they set out, which is both very interesting because it speaks of familiarity with the process, and kind of terrifying; It doesn't look like any kind of veto on account of smarmy purple or his legal guardians has been accepted by the school or its board.

When the end of homeroom nears, Infinity can't seem to hold her curiosity at bay any longer. She jumps up, chair screeching as it's unceremoniously shoved backwards.

"Sensei!", she near-shouts, hand raised like that makes it better that she's spoken out of turn. 

Aizawa turns tired, bloodshot eyes her way. He looks at Infinity as if she is the sole reason he cannot drop down on the floor and fall asleep right this second. - Maybe she is.

"What?" He clearly means to sound gruff to discourage her, but to her credit, Infinity persists.

She certainly has a backbone.

"What happened to Mineta? Was he really expelled?" 

Aizawa sighs, the sound drawn out and mirroring the exhaustion painted on his face. "Yes, I have expelled Mineta Minoru." 

Now that it's been mentioned, the reality of his absence seems to dawn on some of the less circumspect students, now graced with an expression of abject horror on their pale faces. Even Kisara can't quite deny the incredulousness she feels at his blunt answer.

"If that was all, I have a meeting to get to," Aizawa says, rubbing his eyes and ambling out the door. He doesn't seem to care one bit about the wave of dread sweeping across the students.

No one will forget this any time soon. Because someone, in this case, Aizawa, has the means and authority to ruthlessly crush their dreams of heroism under his heel if they somehow fail to meet his expectations, or perhaps behave in a way he deems reprehensible. It's a truly bitter pill to swallow that their own fate has been taken out of their hands.

(It grates on Kisara most of all.

She is finally free and plain refuses to be chained to someone else's opinion on ethics and morality.)

.

If anything, Yuuei continues to prove just how filthy rich they are, even at Lunch, although Kisara has honestly no idea where that kind of money would even come from. 

They provide all of their students with a free lunch, which includes a main dish, a dessert and a drink of choice. You can either pre-order your meals of the week online, or get essentially surprised at Lunch Period. Of course, you can always make special requests both online and via a physical form at school, such as one specific drink every day or that one brand of milk you like the most. And it's free!

Further, allergies or dietary restrictions that are known to the school as per the admission papers are followed down to the last letter, and the cook - Lunch Rush - knows nearly every student by name.

Standing in line with a tray in her hands, Kisara watches as student after student steps forward and holds their ID against a small machine that beeps and, presumably, tells Lunch Rush what dish to give them. She thinks that this scene wouldn't feel amiss in one of those terribly old sci-fi flicks Arisa and Nozomi so appreciate.

Kisara is not the only one completely baffled by this display, after all. Infinity and the boy that is happy to break his bones are in line behind her and talking animatedly about the kind of lunch they could expect from their old schools- or the lack thereof, in Infinity's case.

If she were at this school to make friends, she might've joined in on their conversation with horror stories of her junior high's cafeteria, but. Well. She's not here to make friends. She best remember that.

.

Their schedule is summarily unhelpful in determining what kind of class they have in the last three periods of the day, because the slot is simply labelled 'Foundational Heroics' and that's it. Not even a shorthand of the teacher's (hero) name, as is the case with literally every other subject.

It's quietly driving Kisara insane as she returns to the classroom, feeling woefully underprepared for whatever is going to happen next.

Cradling a strawberry milk drink in her hands, courtesy of one very pushy Seo-senpai, she doesn't notice the rapidly incoming student until it's too late. They stumble into each other, only her reflexes saving Kisara from crashing to the ground as the other person did. 

The first she sees is purple hair, defying gravity like that's what it was born to do. Then follow lilac eyes underlined by heavy purple bags. His uniform is slightly ruffled but otherwise pristine. 

Since when is being purple such a popular aesthetic-? 

They blink at each other for a moment before she holds out her hand and helps him up. She looks at the buttons on his shoulder: two with a gap. Not a Hero course student, then.

"Sorry, wasn't paying attention," she murmurs after a short and thoroughly awkward pause. Somehow, the ingredients list of her (thankfully non-squished) milk drink is the most interesting thing around. 

"It's fine, I shouldn't round corners so fast anyway," he replies just as low. His voice is scratchy, indicating a sore throat. If she were a better person...

"...great that's settled," she returns and walks past him with quick steps, rounding into the corridor holding her classroom soon after. 

Kisara drops into her seat with a heavy sigh. 

I hate school, no matter how much you dress it up.

.

All Might does not go through the door like a normal person. 

Everyone is excited and the-boy-that-breaks-his-bones is near screeching something or other about All Might's costume, which to Kisara... looks like any other he has ever worn. So they have a Hero nerd in their class, good to know.

Better keep my distance.

"Welcome to the most important class at UA High!", he booms as he strides over to the front of the classroom, walking slowly enough that maybe everyone can finally snap out of the ooh-ing and aah-ing.

Now, don't get her wrong... She appreciates what All Might has done for society as a whole and respects the way he built a place for himself in their world, but.

But, she cannot forgive what this has led to. 

'No one' is as strong as All Might, so they never even fucking try. The only one that does is Endeavor (whom she also has some opinions on), and that's it. No one else tries to step up, and yes, maybe that's not his fault exactly, but he is the butterfly that flapped its wings and the ones stuck in the tornado are Kisara and her generation. 

(Sometimes it feels as if the only thing he does is punch people and smile about it.)

So, no, Kisara is certainly not his biggest fan.

But it doesn't seem as if any of her classmates share her thoughts and opinions. They're just all kind of excited, even ruby-boy behind her who has been very unenthusiastic about their pro-hero teachers so far. 

As All Might continues to talk, it becomes clear that whatever she expected going in, it's not going to happen. They're getting straight into their virgin alpha-version costumes because the very first thing on their agenda is combat.

Real, live combat without any kind of theoretical lesson to back it up. All Might doesn't even seem to want to go over things they shouldn't do, like kick in kneecaps or perform joint locks or- anything. Maybe he wants to see a couple of teens break each other's faces, who the fuck knows? 

On the other hand, it's not as if Kisara is a teaching expert either, so maybe she has to reserve her judgement. He has to have gotten a primer on teaching from someone with more experience- wait.

Does he have a teaching license? It's not the same as being able to have sidekicks (and even then he only ever had the one, almost an adult by then), so... she dearly hopes he has one because some of her classmates look way too trigger-happy already. 

All Might presses a button on a remote he suddenly pulls from somewhere, and a soft hiss can be heard as a whole fucking shelf eases itself out of the wall, filled to the brim with numbered suitcases. O-kay, sure. Whatever.

But then she realizes- the case with the number sixteen is hers. Holy shit. That's her hero costume right there, even if it's in its alpha stage.

I really did it. I made it into Yuuei.

Chapter Text

Turns out no one actually knows where Training Ground Beta is, and All Might just fucking went ahead and left without them, which is just wonderful. No, really, it's as wonderful as the school only having the barest of signs inside, potentially to confuse intruders, but come on! 

Resigned to her fate, Kisara shoulders her backpack and grabs her phone. She doesn't have much hope that Miya-senpai or Seo-senpai will see the message, but you know. Here Kisara is, thinking in positives. How exciting.

Unnamed Group
Three (3) Participants

You, 13.32

idk if you can get on your phone rihgt now but
our teacher just kind of left without telling us how we can get to ground beta

Miya Naohiro, 13.33

What.
Who?

You, 13.33

... all might

Seo Imari, 13.33

what????????
re u joking

You, 13.34

no
i'm for real

Seo Imari, 13.34

oh my god whatt ಠ_ಠ
wait but isnt this ur 1st hero basics class rn

You, 13.35

yes it is

Seo Imari, 13.35

what the shit
naohiro can u make my excuses to snipe

You, 13.36

wait hold on senpai
plsea dont get in trouble bc of me

Miya Naohiro, 13.36

Yes
Don't worry, we've done this before.

Seo Imari, 13.37

youre a literal natinal treasure hiro
ok suzkui dont let anyone wander off now
ill run over really quick
c u sooooon ╰(*°▽°*)╯

With a helpless smile she looks up from her phone, to see ruby-boy and, hmm, Kirishima approaching one of the doors, apparently intent on finding their ways themself after idling for these few minutes. 

She clears her throat, but gets ignored. Well, what did she expect, everyone is loudly despairing or cursing the school layout. While she would usually not be far behind them in both cursing and leaving, she trusts Seo-senpai to know her way around way better than Kirishima or ruby-boy. 

"Hey, everyone," she calls at just a bit above the ambient volume. All eyes turn towards her. How fun. "I know a third year in the hero course, she's on her way right now. She says to stay put, and when she gets here she will lead us to Ground Beta." 

Ruby-boy scoffs, an ugly scowl growing on his face. He's actually the only one that's not showing open relief at having to err through the hallways and across the grounds. 

"Whoa, that's so cool, uh... Suzuki!" Ashido claps in delight and sets her case back down on the desk. "And a relief, god knows where we would end up if we went on our own," she jokes, winking at Infinity. 

"Indeed, it's quite a lucky occurrence," Glasses-boy adds, arms held stiffly at his sides. He pushes his glasses back up and even that movement seems somehow more rigid, as opposed to the fluidity of their classmates around him. 

"But aren't our upperclassmen in class as well?", Yaoyo-girl asks, a slight frown creasing her nose adorably. "I don't think I would be able to go about this comfortably if she was skipping class for us, or similar." 

Kisara is very tempted to answer something sarcastic, as Seo-senpai rips open the door, long blonde hair more falling out of a sloppy ponytail, than in. She beams at them, eyes searching for something, or rather, someone. 

"Suzuki-chan! There you are," she near-yells. Her eyes sweep across the class again, mouth moving soundlessly. Maybe she's counting? "Ah, good job, you kept all of them in the room." 

"Seo-senpai," she murmurs and takes the case containing her outfit. The handle fits snugly into her palm. 

"Heya 1-A, I'm Seo Imari from Class 3-B! Suzuki-chan told me that you need help locating Ground Beta." She reaches up and pulls out the hair tie entirely, slipping it around her wrist. Around Kisara, her class echoes the greeting with a sort of uniform bow; remarkably disturbing business, that uniformity.

"But, Seo-senpai, is this really okay?", Yaoyo-girl inquires, hands twisting into each other. "Don't you have class right now?"

Seo-senpai just waves her off. "No way, this is totally fine." Based on Yaoyo's uncertain face, Kisara is not the only one that notices how she is sidestepping the actual question. 

"Now, everyone, grab your case. Up and at 'em, ducklings!" She winks at a stunned-looking Kaminari, then strides towards Kisara and summarily steals her case with a mischievous grin. Kisara just rolls her eyes and follows her out the door as the others quickly scramble to follow.

.

She's always hated changing in communal spaces, so she's kind of glad that she managed to snag one of two bathroom stalls. 

It's just not very easy to explain the array of old, faded scars marring her body. They're mostly in inobtrusive places, but changing rooms do have a tendency of stripping people down to near nothing; Her sports bra and panties hardly hide anything.

First, she loses all her outer clothing and skims over the notes of the support company Yuuei contracted. They're saying little in many words, but what does make her frown in annoyance is that they're saying that they, quote, 'took some creative liberties' on a few items. 

Warily, she pulls it out piece by piece. 

It becomes quickly apparent that these so-called 'creative liberties' are aimed at tightening the fabrics in places and showing a large amount of skin in others. Kisara clenches her jaw until she can hear and feel her molars grind together, but she does reluctantly pull the thing on. 

When she steps out of the stall, she can hear Infinity complaining a little about the tightness of the fabric in some areas. Ashido is also remarking that the design she submitted looked a bit different from what she ended up with, in terms of tightness. 

Kisara bites her lip until she's successfully fought off the urge to step in and fix this situation. She's supposed to keep a low profile. She's supposed to blend in for as long as she possibly can. That means she cannot afford to meddle. 

She wets her lips and swallows around the tightness in her throat. 

Not my business. Not my business. Not my business-

This mantra follows her out the door and through the tunnel connecting the lockers with Ground Beta. 

.

Almost three-quarters of the class has assembled near All Might by the time she makes it out, Ashido not far behind.

Kisara takes the time to take a look around and sure enough, everyone sure picked some interesting designs. She can understand the human grenade that is ruby-boy, but Todoroki's icy get-up, the shy guy's weird teeth motif on his shirt or Kirishima's bare-chested outfit leave a lot of questions she's not sure she wants answered. Not to mention Yaoyo-girl's bare... everything.

She's not the only one checking out her classmates, though, because she can feel a number of looks directed her way. Understandable if uncomfortable, given the newly added boob window and heavily exposed midriff. Most of the gazes move on soon enough, probably in remembrance of midget weirdo getting expelled not that long ago.

After idling a bit to the side, unsure where to go, she joins the tight crowd of other students clamouring for All Might's attention, keeping to the back of the pack with a quiet Todoroki and somehow still angry ruby-boy.

A minute passes, maybe more, and finally, Infinity and the bone breaker emerge from the tunnel, the last two stragglers finally reunited with the main body of the class.

All Might's unnervingly blue eyes sweep over the class before the corners of his mouth turn up even more, his grin so bright it makes her uncomfortable.

"They say that clothes make the Pros, young ladies and gentlemen, and behold! You are the proof!" Most of her classmates grin and swap giddy looks. "Take this to heart. From now on you are all heroes in training!" There's a brief cheer that turns into a rallying cry as All Might looks on slightly helplessly. It kind of makes her think he either didn't get a crash course in teaching, or he hadn't cared at the time and is now regretting not listening to his more experienced colleagues. 

"Alright, kids!", he booms over the ambient noise. Kisara winces, feeling her feathers ruffle in agitation. "Now, shall we get started?!"

.

In the end, the exercise pits two random duos of students against each other, with one team pretending at being villains that are hiding a bomb inside some random townhouse. The hero team wins if they manage to touch and therefore 'disable' the payload, or they defeat the villain team within the allotted time. The villains win if they capture the heroes or successfully protect the pretend bomb.

When they arrive at the location, both teams get a five-minute period to strategize and come up with a plan. Then there are fifteen minutes of hiding, fighting, or what have you, before the match ends and the students return to the monitoring room for class-wide critique. And since they're an odd number of students now, one of them will have to volunteer for the one poor soul that's stuck alone.

After hearing the explanation, the class lines up single file in front of All Might, who is holding an opaque bag with colourful plastic capsules containing the lots that determine the team compositions. Kisara herself somehow ends up in the middle of the line and picks a yellow capsule. Looking around, no one has the other one yet. 

It takes until one of the last students in the line for Kisara to find her teammate. It's Todoroki, radiating a calm sort of annoyance at something she isn't entirely sure about. Maybe it's the teamwork part, maybe it's about her, maybe he's just angry at the world in general.

(Kisara thinks she would be angry too, if her father were Endeavour. She doubts he's here because he wants to be.)

Nonetheless, this is a team exercise, no matter what he or she may think about it. She sidles up to him while they're heading to the monitoring room, keeping her face neutral and steps purposeful.

"I will win." He doesn't even look at her. 

What.

"It's a team exercise," she says, a touch incredulous. "If you win, I win. And I'm not the type of person to coast along on other people's successes." Not even if that would be better for her in the long run. That's not a level she can allow herself to fall to. It would mean falling into a well of hypocrisy and never seeing the surface again.

Now he turns his head a fraction, his uncovered grey eye a sharp contrast to the red ice-encrusted lens hiding his other eye. Even with his neutral expression, he seems fed up with her. "I won't let you get in my way."

"If anything," she says stiltedly, "you are getting in my way. I want to win because I put in the effort and that's exactly what's going to happen."

Todoroki looks at her for a solid minute, then turns his head away. "Do not get in my way," he repeats. The words are shaped like a threat.

.

Team A is made up of Infinity and Bone Breaker, real names Uraraka and Midoriya. They're the heroes to Team D's villains in the stuck-up glasses-wearing boy with engines in his calves - Iida, probably related to the IdaTen Agency - and ruby-boy, aptly named Bakugou. 

Midoriya and Bakugou clearly have some history, what with Bakugou pursuing the other boy so doggedly. Kisara almost feels sorry for Uraraka and Iida, pulled into a grudge match they had no real clue about.

Besides All Might, no one can hear the audio of the fight, just follow along on the screens, yet it's clear by the look on Bakugou's face that he is ready for some serious violence the moment he raises one of his gauntlets, aiming at Midoriya. All Might tries to intervene over the intercom, but it's just a moment too late. 

Kisara cringes and averts her eyes, making eye contact with a pale blond boy with lightning motifs all over his costume. He looks scared. She holds eye contact even when most of their classmates wince and hiss in surprise and pained sympathy. Once they're mostly silent again, she chances a look at the screens, just in time to see Bakugou move to pull the pin on his second gauntlet, to which All Might threatens Team D losing by default if he does so. 

Kisara swallows bile and looks away again, shaking her head at the boy. He shouldn't look. It's only going to get uglier now. She wonders why the match hasn't been called yet. It's too violent, too personal, too raw. 

Slowly, she steps around her classmates and approaches the boy. He looks as shaken as she feels. She doesn't say a thing as she takes his shaking hands in hers and squeezes them reassuringly. He closes his eyes on an exhale, trying to centre himself. 

No matter the looks they're getting, Kisara is comfortable waiting until he feels stable again. 

.

Midoriya and Uraraka win, Bakugou goes on to have what looks like half a panic attack, Iida is crowned MVP. - Midoriya also gets sent to the nurse (again). 

After the critiquing is over, All Might flounders a bit on how to segue into the next match. Then he calls forth Teams B and I. Just her luck, it's Todoroki and her as the heroes versus Ojirou and an invisible girl called Hagakure as the villains of the scenario. 

After affixing the earpieces, they start walking to the location separately. Again, Kisara tries talking to Todoroki, but it's like talking at a wall. He doesn't say anything, never even shows any indication of hearing her talk. 

She kind of wants to scream. 

They reach their destination, a normal-looking brick house in a row with nearly identical ones left and right. Finally, does he turn to her, eyes slightly unfocused. He-! He tuned her out! She keeps calm by the skin of her teeth.

He's a right bastard, even if his parents were married.

"You want to help, locate them." Something about the tone he says it with makes her eye twitch.

Dismissive and uninterested bastard. But...

Todoroki did go out of his way (a little) to accommodate her wishes. Kisara knows better than to be picky, knows it's better to grasp any opportunity she can with two hands and never let go, but... it feels like a scrap thrown before a starving beast so it stops whining. So it stops rattling the cage. 

Kisara grits her teeth. She doesn't look at him as her wings shimmer into visibility, detaching a flurry of them in preparation for the start signal. When it comes, she dispatches them to the windowsills. And there, fourth floor on the north side; movement.

"Fourth floor, north side," she reports, slanting a look at the side of his face. He doesn't give any indication of hearing her and moves into the building. When she makes to follow, he stops walking. 

"Remain outside. It's safer." He won't have to bother worrying about her that way, he doesn't say, yet she hears it loud and clear. Her wings disappear from the visible spectrum again, and she stands at attention before the front door, not taking another step. 

Todoroki starts walking again, ice spreading with every sure step he takes. 

Two minutes later, the whole building looks like an icy winter wonderland and All Might's slightly tinny voice announces Team B's victory over the intercom system. 

Kisara returns to the monitoring room without waiting for the other three. She needs to calm down before she says or does something she will regret.

.

The class is pretty divided on who should be the MVP, some saying it should be Todoroki based on the percentage of work he did, while others argue that without Kisara's information, he would have been left to aimlessly direct his ice wherever.

All Might makes short work of their opinions, crowning Todoroki the MVP based on his sheer strength alone. Kisara watches in stony silence, biting her tongue so hard she tastes copper.

Victory has never felt so bitter.

The rest of the matches go by and Kisara registers maybe half of it.

Chapter Text

Class finishes after the last critiquing session, All Might reminding them of the physical evaluation as they leave to go get changed. Kisara has half a mind to skip it, but that would only draw undue attention, so she resigns herself to it.

She snatches one of the bathroom stalls again, pulling off the bits and pieces of her costume with unfeeling hands. It's all she can do not to rip the fabric with her hands shaking in a numb sort of anger. Kisara hastily folds the costume and decides to fuck staying below the radar, she is going to have a talk with Aizawa as soon as she can about the company that took way too many creative liberties with 1-A's costumes.

The handle of the suitcase fits perfectly into her palm. It's solid like few things in her life are. Above all, it's grounding. 

.

By the time she puts the suitcase back into its slot in the classroom, only a few of her classmates are there. They're crowded around one of the desks, joking and laughing freely.

"Suzuki, hey!" Kaminari, the lightning-themed blond boy, notices her first. The others with him greet her as well, and she knows they're all well-meaning, but her skin crawls from the attention. 

"By the way, do you know where the nurse's office is?" Ashido asks, breaking off from where she's leaning against the girl with the earlobe mutation- Jirou, she reminds herself. She skips over, takes Kisara by the hand and pulls her to the edge of the circle that quickly shifts to accommodate her. 

"No, sorry," Kisara says, only just keeping herself from taking an instinctive step backwards. 

"Do you figure you can ask Seo-senpai again?" Jirou asks, slowly curling one earphone jack around her finger. Ashido and Aoyama perk up, turning glittering eyes her way.

She bites her lip. "I can try," she says after a moment, "but I can't guarantee anything. Maybe she's already on her way home."

They cheer. 

Senpais + Suzuki-chan! (●'◡'●)
Three (3) participants

18 unread messages

Miya Naohiro, 13.39
Actually, maybe we should mention this to another staff member?
He can't just leave you with no way of finding your meeting place
imagine if we had not exchanged numbers at lunch today...

Seo Imari, 13.48
i have. delivered the ducklings (⌐■_■)
good lucj suzukichan and have lots of fun 
ill be back in like five hiro
and yes we should probably mention this but
do we go straight to aizawa or like? tell snipe bc hes with us rn
idc if i get heat for leaving btw

Miya Naohiro, 13.52
You never do.
We should probably approach Aizawa first. It's his homeroom.

Seo Imari, 13.53
i know
and yes lets do that like tmrw
i bet he left already by the time we get out (┬┬﹏┬┬)
they dont have particals tmrw anyway so its fine

Miya Naohiro, 16.03
We were let out slightly early.
Suzuki, would you like to be present tomorrow morning? You would have to take an earlier train.

Seo Imari, 16.04
n if you cant get an earlier train but still want to be there we can go during lunch!!! 

You, 16.17
I will answer that later after Ive thought about it more
But right now we have our phys exams with Recovery Girl
and we dont know where to go
again
bc all might left
again

Seo Imari, 16.19
OH MY GOD
what knid of guy does that
twice in a row too, hope he doesnt date anyone for real
im already almost home but ill turn back one sec

Miya Naohiro, 16.20
No, go home.
I'm still at school
Are you in your classroom Suzuki

You, 16.20
yes but not all of us are here so its just like a smaller group
some are still changing i think
or have left to the office on their own by now
r just didnt want to go

Seo Imari, 16.22
deep rip to those that left without going to recgirl
aizawa is gonna be SO MAD tmrw
maybe we should wait unril lunch with the report or else theyre gonna die painfully

When Kisara raises her head, most of them are reading over her shoulder. Only Jirou seems uninterested, flagging the incoming Iida and Yaoyorozu down.

She purses her lips. "You could have waited for me to tell you," she says a little sharply. At least they look contrite in the face of her admonishment.

"Sorry," Ashido says sheepishly. "I was just curious." The others make sounds of agreement.

"Right," Kisara drawls, "And that's why you invade my privacy." She rolls her eyes when they splutter and deny the accusation. "Just don't do it again," she says. Iida and Yaoyorozu join them and are quickly caught up to speed. 

And lo and behold, Miya-senpai arrives at the door to their classroom a few moments later. His petal pink hair is slightly dishevelled.

"Suzuki-chan," he greets with a small wave that she reciprocates. "My name is Miya, I'll lead you to Recovery Girl's office."

Unsurprisingly, Kisara and the others, led by Miya-senpai, are close to the first ones there and warn her that they're not entirely sure everyone will be by that day.

The short woman looks ready to throw hands when they tell her it's mostly because All Might left them to fend for themselves (again), but doesn't say anything overtly critical in front of the first years. Kisara can see it in her eyes though, and in the pinched expression on her face as she turns towards her back office with Iida in tow. 

Interesting.

Miya-senpai tells her he will wait for Kisara to finish up so they can walk to the station together. In the meantime he walks back to their classroom to check if he can't find some of their other classmates to guide towards the nurse's office.

He's not even rounded the corner before Ashido descends on Kisara, golden irises near sparkling. "How come you know two upperclassmen already? When did you meet? Do you think they can give us the downlow on Yuuei?" Her hands dart forward to take Kisara's, excitement rolling off of her in waves. Kisara avoids the contact by stuffing her hands into the pockets of her blazer, leaving the pink-skinned girl floundering for a moment.

"We met yesterday; I asked for directions."

"And then never stopped," Jirou quips easily, curling her earlobe extension around her finger. It seems to be a nervous tick of some sort.

Kisara forces a smile, glad for Aoyama when he suddenly strikes a ridiculous pose and draws attention back to himself. He does stuff like that like clockwork. Maybe he has a timer on his phone.

Iida is soon to return, looking entirely calm. Maybe it won't be as bad as Kisara feared, then. Ashido is called on next, giving her a little reprieve.

Extroverts that want to talk to her are just so exhausting to deal with, especially when Kisara vowed that she'd keep her distance. When Kisara desperately needs to keep her distance not just out of preference, but also as a genuine necessity. 

While Iida entertains the others, Miya returns with another small group of their classmates. He is quick to drop them off in the middle of the already talking group, sidling up next to Kisara. She's sitting on the hallway floor now, keeping her distance. 

He scans her from top to toe, twice, just like he did that morning on the train. It's like he is looking into her soul. After the kind of day she's had, one filled with so many bitter disappointments, it really grates on her nerves.

"Why do you do that?"

He knows instantly what she is talking about, his generally placid expression firming into something more serious. "It's my quirk, how I activate it." Kisara furrows her brows. She'd already suspected as much, but hearing him say as much is kind of... surprising. For some reason she expected him to sidestep the answer entirely.

"And why do you keep using it on me?" Her voice is as flat as her expression must be.

"I build a sympathetic link between myself and another person," he explains lowly, eyes flicking to Ashido exiting the office. Aoyama goes in next. "In simple terms, it lets me know what a person needs as long as the bond is active." How vague. "The output - that is, people's needs - varies from physical needs like hugs, to stuff like reassurance, a drink, someone to listen to their problems, even sleep, or," he casts a long look at her, "a friend you can share your burdens with." 

Kisara is immediately on edge, body stiffening. It's a useful quirk. It's a good quirk. She can see its potential in hero work, in social work, in a lot of things - but she doesn't appreciate it being used on her. She is not someone to be pitied or taken on as charity, she is not some project. Anger bubbles up from where she had buried it just a short while ago, compounding until it threatens to explode out of her.

It is by the skin of her teeth that she reigns it in, the fury pooling into a hot sun in her chest, warming her inside out.

"I thank you for not using it on me again," she bites out. Miya-senpai just looks at her with those infuriatingly calm eyes and nods his acquiescence. It almost makes the sun burst out of her, so she is glad when Aoyama exits and calls for her.

Getting her feet under her, she throws a withering glare at her 'upperclassman' and storms into the nurse's office. It takes a few seconds to school her expression back into something more neutral. By the time she enters the back office and takes a seat across from Recovery Girl's desk, she has forced herself back into the mould of one Suzuki Mei.

"Suzuki Mei, yes?" She nods. Recovery Girl looks over the rim of her glasses, kindly smile fixed on her face. In contrast to All Might, Kisara believes this smile to be borne from genuine emotion.

"When I initially reviewed the file sent over by your Junior High, some questions arose. It says here that you did not receive any of the usual annual check-ups. Was this a school thing or a you thing?" Kisara can appreciate her frankness at the same time as acknowledging that it's annoying. There's not exactly a lot of wiggle room left for her here.

"Both, I suppose. One year I skipped it, the other two it fell through because the nurse quit and they didn't find a replacement until shortly before end of last term." 

"And your guardians did not make you go outside school?"

"No," she shrugs faux-casual, hoping it will be left at that.

"I see," Recovery Girl says. Kisara really hopes she doesn't. "In that case, we will have to schedule a follow-up appointment for next week since I do not have the time to do an extended check-up right now. Until then, the teachers will keep a bit of an eye on you during Foundational Heroics since we cannot be entirely sure of your current health status."

Damn it. That's one of the worst possible scenarios.

"Of course," she says, gritting her teeth.

"Good. There also seem to have been a few clerical errors with your paperwork in general, which happens occasionally. No need to worry, dearie, your homeroom teacher will address this with you by next week and then pass on our appointment time." 

And it just keeps getting worse.

.