You stared up at the massive, sprawling campus of UA University, in all its shining glory. You were still in a state of disbelief that this was really happening, that you were really here— especially since you'd completely bombed the entrance exam.
Your quirk was totally useless against the huge robots you were tasked with taking down during the practical part of the exam. You remember thinking for a soul crushing split second that your dreams were already going to be dashed prematurely, but you adamantly refused to give up.
Plus Ultra and all that crap!
Knowing that it was pointless to waste your limited time attacking robots, you rapidly changed focus and worked on helping your fellow participants out of danger. It was soon obvious to you that there were quite a few examinees who were in way over their heads— some frozen in place with anxiety, others knocked unconscious, or trapped helplessly in perilous situations. You quickly set to work getting as many people out of harm's way as possible. If your calm and soothing voice failed to coax them back to safety, then your quirk allowed you to easily incapacitate them so you could carry them away from any hazards.
By the time the allotted fifteen minutes for the practical exam was up, you'd managed to assist over half a dozen of your peers. You were fighting sleep, nodding off and drooling slightly even while standing upright, but you'd kept a lot of young people from getting seriously injured and for that you felt a sense a pride. A few of the examinees gushed about a guy who'd taken out the giant zero pointer bot with a single blow, but you'd completely missed the action and were way too tired to hear about it.
Recovery Girl was quite pleased with you though, and she showered you in gummy candies. Still, at the time you'd completely lamented your nonexistent point score, and it was near impossible to be hopeful of passing, despite how well you might've performed on the written portion.
Which is why it was such a surprise when you received the letter from UA stating you had been accepted into the hero course. While you had received a big fat goose egg for the Villain portion, you'd gotten the highest score under the secret category of Rescue! The examiners believed your selfless actions and quick thinking were the mark of a true hero's mindset. Not to mention a certain Symbol of Peace put in a good word for you… something about a sludge incident that took place a while back. Combine that with your almost perfect written exam scores, and you were officially accepted into UA University.
It was surreal. A dream come true.
Clutching a cup of coffee, you stood in front of the entrance to class 1-A in an attempt to gather yourself. Walking through that door would be one of your first real steps on the journey to becoming a Pro hero. Even your perpetually drowsy exterior couldn't hide the sheer excitement you felt bubbling just below the surface. You took a sip of your caffeinated beverage, adjusted the hem of your uniform, and exhaled deeply before sliding the door open. Here's to the start of the rest of your—
"Get your feet off of the desk! You are desecrating school property—"
"HAH?! Why don't I desecrate my foot up your ass, ya damn extra?!"
You sighed heavily and deflated, feeling all of the passion and emotion drain from your body instantly. So much for trying to have a sacred moment!
Even in college, it seems, boys will be boys.
Your eyes lazily scanned the classroom, taking in the colorful cast of characters. There sure were a lot of different people here, some whose quirks were obvious just by glancing and many more not so much. You were just making your way towards an empty seat in the back when your gaze locked with a pair of forest green eyes, big and bright.
"Eh? It's you!" you both said in unison before he chuckled nervously and approached you with rosy, freckled cheeks. The gentle sound made the corners of your lips upturn.
"I guess I shouldn't be all that surprised," he said, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. "It's no wonder you made it into the hero course!"
"Are you kidding? It's a miracle I passed the entrance exam," you sighed wearily. "At least I recognize one person here, though."
"Really?? Who?" He tilted his head to the side cutely, green curls bouncing with the movement.
You glanced left then right before fixing him with a pointed look, brows raised expectantly.
The pink tint on his cheeks flared out, spreading across his face as he spluttered. "A-ah, y-you mean m-m-me, right? O-of course! It's just that… I-I never got your name, and I've been wondering ever since that day— UM, not that I've been thinking about you like a weirdo or anything! A-although you did save me, and I didn't even ask your name which is just rude…!"
You watched him ramble aimlessly with a small smile before placing a hand lightly on his shoulder. Once he stopped mumbling, you told him your name and watched him repeat it softly to himself to remember.
He smiled bashfully. "I'm Midoriya Izuku. Let's be friends and give it our all!"
"If you're just here to make friends, then you can pack your things up now," said a black haired man rolling out of a sleeping bag with the grace of a caterpillar tearing itself from its cocoon. He had dark circles under his bloodshot eyes, and a no-nonsense look about him. "I won't waste my time with pleasantries before seeing if you lot are even worth it. First thing's first, head to the locker rooms and change into your gym uniforms. It's time for a quirk assessment."
A ripple of unease swept through the class, but the student body complied nonetheless. You chugged down your coffee as you filed out of the room with your classmates.
The girls' locker room was alive with conversation— introductions and gossip alike. You changed clothes quickly, rubbing your exposed arms anxiously, making a mental note to bring a long sleeved shirt to wear underneath your gym top next time.
"Nice gloves!" A high pitched voice called to your right, but there wasn't anyone there. No… upon closer inspection, it was an invisible girl! Her white gloves and bubbly voice were the only indication that she was present. "I'm Hagakure Toru, but you can call me Toru-chan~! I'm glad I won't be the only girl to keep her hands covered. A lady's modesty is everything, ya know!"
You watched as she tugged on her uniform, the fabric clinging to a body you were not previously aware of. You thought it was amusing for someone whose quirk relied on nudity to be concerned with modesty and decided that you liked this strange, contradictory girl immediately. Plus, no one had ever complimented your gloves before.
You introduced yourself, and Toru wasted no time in filling you in on some of the other girls she'd already been acquainted with. There were some pretty useful quirks here, even just amongst the ladies, and you began feeling anxious about how you'd measure up in the quirk assessment test your teacher had planned.
It wasn't long before the entire class was outside on the sports field, filling out their gym uniforms nicely. You kept a safe, respectful distance away from the others, hugging your arms tightly underneath your chest. You were so preoccupied with making sure you didn't accidentally brush up against anyone that you weren't paying any attention to your professor. That is, until one sentence cut right through the white noise.
"Whoever scores the lowest today will be deemed as having zero hero potential and will be promptly expelled."
You could almost hear your sanity crack.
"EEHHHH???" The class cried out, and you were only slightly relieved that you weren't the only one panicking.
A cute brown haired girl with pink cheeks was shaking slightly, a blonde with a black lightning streak was practically ripping his hair out, and Midoriya looked like he was going to be sick. The only person who looked wholly unaffected was the ash blond with the permanent scowl on his face. The fact that he didn't even flinch at the news let you know that he was strong and confident.
This Bakugou guy was called up first to throw a ball and, using his quirk and screaming DIE, it soared over 700 meters. Your arms and legs turned to soba noodles, and you feared you may pass out.
How the hell were you supposed to compete with a freak of nature like that?
One by one, your classmates stepped forward to perform in the various physical assessment tests while your teacher announced and documented the results. With each test, your peers showcased their strengths and quirk versatility; power, speed, endurance, agility, finesse— it didn't really matter because you had none of that! Nobody was good at everything, but so far you were good at nothing! Your quirk allowed you to manipulate other people, not objects or yourself. It was just like the entrance exam all over again!
The only thing worse than being quirkless, was having a useless quirk.
You took bitter solace in the face that Midoriya seemed to be performing just as poorly as yourself.
"Midoriya-kun, it was nice knowing you," you said with glassy eyes in a hollow voice. "Don't forget me when you go Pro, okay?"
"N-n-no way," he whined out, wiggling like a noodle with tears in his eyes. "I'm totally at the bottom, and I'm gonna be kicked out, and I have this feeling Eraserhead totally hates me, too!!"
Still, with every below average result, you felt your dream slipping further and further away from your grasp.
It's hopeless! Your father was right, it was a complete waste of time to come here—
"Hey," Midoriya called your last name, shaking you from your dark reverie. "Next is the 50m dash. Maybe you can use your quirk on whoever you're racing against to beat them!"
Using your quirk on a classmate? The last time you did that…
"I'm not sure," you murmured, looking away.
"You heard what Aizawa-sensei said. Whoever ends up last is getting expelled," Midoriya gulped, going pale. "You've gotta use your quirk whenever possible!"
Whenever possible? He clearly didn't know what he was asking of you.
"Hm, not sure you've been paying attention, but you haven't been too eager to use yours either," you fired back, crossing your arms.
"W-well, t-that's because I-I…" Midoriya stuttered out, but Aizawa called your name up next so you walked forward.
You approached the starting line where a wavy haired blonde was posed flamboyantly, flashing you an impish grin that rubbed you the wrong way.
JoJo pose lookin' ass—
"Prepare to eat my sparkles," he purred, effectively confusing the hell out of you.
"Ready?" Aizawa asked in a bored tone.
He clearly wasn't expecting much from you, and it really pissed you off that he'd already deemed you a disappointment, a disgrace. Unworthy.
You spared a glance behind you where your classmates also had an obvious lack of confidence in you. Some scrolled idly on their phones, others chatting amongst themselves, while a few openly snickered in your direction. Except for one boy whose green eyes were set with encouragement, fists clenched tightly in anticipation. His pink lips mouthed Do it, so subtly that you would've missed it had you not already been staring intently.
And so you brought your glove up to your lips, between your teeth, and pulled your hand free from its confinement, all while maintaining eye contact with him, drinking in the way his pupils seemed to dilate at your movement.
You stuffed your glove in your pocket and flexed your fingers before looking at your competitor. He was facing the opposite direction of the racetrack with a smug smirk, hands behind his head, no doubt trying to humiliate you further by insinuating that he could beat you even while running backwards.
And that's what really ticked you off.
You got into position. "Ready."
"Aoyama?" Aizawa asked your competitor who nodded his assent. "3… 2… 1… GO!"
You leapt to the side, grasping Aoyama by his forearms tightly right as he unleashed a powerful beam from his belly button. You had just enough time to think what a strange quirk , before you were both propelling backwards through the air with enough force to make your cheeks jiggle. Your legs wrapped around his torso instinctually just as the young man slipped into unconsciousness, causing his belly beam to die down. With a few bumps on your tailbone, your conjoined forms skidded to a stop. You blinked to see that the short blast had rocketed you both just a few inches away from the finish line, and you reached your arm back in order to complete the dash and stop the timer.
"3.2 seconds," Aizawa announced, and you could almost swear the corner of his lip turned upwards. "Not bad."
"Yatta!!" Midoriya leapt into the air, pumping his fist until he noticed the strange looks thrown his way from the others. He cleared his throat and clapped in a sportsmanlike manner, making you giggle.
That's when you remembered the sleeping beauty snoring against your stomach. You reached down and slapped him on the face gently, rousing him awake.
"Hrnggg, snork, ahh, I just had the most wonderful dream," Aoyama cooed. "I was a prince locked away in a tower for the crime of being too fabulous, and a fairy godmother showed up to grant my truest desire, so obvi I wished for her to get a sense of style because she was dressed in summer tones when she was so clearly an autumn girly and then—"
"You still haven't crossed the finish line yet, Aoyama," your teacher groaned.
You slipped your glove back on and yawned as you made your way back toward your other classmates. This may have been one small win, but it meant so much more to you than that. You hadn't needed to implant any dream into Aoyama's mind, he was able to craft one of his own. Not only that, but he'd woken up with ease at your first inclination. Was Aoyama just a light sleeper or was it you? Were you getting better at controlling your quirk or was it just a fluke, driven by your desire to prove your worth to your class? Or perhaps, just maybe—
"Great job!" Midoriya clapped you on the shoulder with a blinding smile. "I knew you could do it!"
"Yeah, you looked super cool flying through the air like that!" Hagakure waved her gloves in your face excitedly.
"Indeed," Iida adjusted his glasses sagely. "You used Aoyama's own quirk to your advantage while simultaneously rendering him unconscious and therefore ineffective."
"Stop using all those damn big words!" Bakugou roared. "It's obnoxious as hell! She wasn't all that great!"
"Wow, that's practically a compliment coming from Kacchan!" Midoriya beamed.
"Shut up, Deku, you bastard!!"
You weren't used to receiving so much praise, especially regarding your quirk, but you didn't want to draw too much attention. You've witnessed firsthand how quickly your own classmates can turn on you. A yawn ripped through you just as you shrugged casually. "It was nothing, really."
"Woah, she's overflowing with cockiness all of a sudden!!" The class exclaimed.
"Eh?" You waved your hands. "N-no—"
"Midoriya, you're next," Aizawa called out, holding a softball up.
Midoriya squeaked, and a visible tremor went through his body from head to toe. It was obvious he was going through some inner turmoil, and the panicked look in his eyes made you furrow your brows. Maybe it was the drowsiness, or the residual adrenaline from your own (albeit small) success, or a desire to encourage him the same way he did for you, but before you knew it, your mouth was moving on its own.
"I'm not sure what your quirk is," you began in a hushed voice, "but if you made it into UA, then it's gotta be strong, right? Take a deep breath. Trust yourself and your power! You can do it."
His big eyes grew impossibly wider, and he stammered incoherently with a bright blush coating his freckles until your words seemed to sink in. He inhaled, exhaled, then gave you an appreciative nod, jaw set with determination as he approached Aizawa. You couldn't help but be a little awed by the boy; it was like a switch flipped inside him.
Your teacher seemed less than convinced. Aizawa erased Midoriya's quirk, sabotaging his throw before wrapping the young man up in his signature capture tape. You were too far away to hear what he was saying, but based on the fear swirling in those green eyes, you could tell it wasn't pleasant.
"Hah," Bakugou smirked, "looks like teach is laying into that quirkless waste of space."
"Quirkless?" Iida frowned. "Clearly you didn't witness him in action during the entrance exam."
You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and focused intently on his form as Midoriya prepared to throw the ball again, unhindered by Eraserhead this time. It wasn't until the ball had almost left his hand that you spotted it. His index finger shimmered with power, and your jaw dropped as the ball soared over the horizon, cutting through the clouds.
The machine beeped. 705 meters.
Midoriya winced, clutching his now broken, purplish finger with a proud, wobbly smile. "I'm still standing, Aizawa-sensei."
"Deku, you bastard!!" Bakugou roared and charged at him, only to be the next victim caught inside Aizawa's capture tape.
Their yelling and screaming faded to a dull thrum in your mind as you felt the world imploding in on you.
Midoriya and yourself had been competing for last place today, and he even had the nerve to make you feel as if you were doing better than him— then he pulled this incredible strength out of his back pocket! Like it was nothing . He was so nervous, he'd gotten you to encourage him!! Was this all just some elaborate scheme to lull you into a false sense of security? To humiliate you?
You fell to your hands and knees in defeat, clutching the dust underneath your fingers. Hagakure knelt beside you, but her words went in one ear and out the other.
Was this simply the cruel reality of your fate? Were you doomed to remain at the bottom of the proverbial food chain in this cannibalistic, quirk obsessed society?
The circumstances of your birth, of your very quirk and its effects, meant you were an unwelcome intruder even in your own home. Both the oppressed and the oppressor, the victim and the abuser. Yet a part of you hoped, prayed , that perhaps the gods had put you through so much at so young for a purpose. That if you went through all the pain and the struggle and the unadulterated heartache, then there'd be something bright and beautiful at the end of the tunnel that'd make it all worth it.
Frankly, you should've known better than to dream bigger than your station allowed.
You were Icarus, yearning to fly high and free, to feel the warmth of the sun on your skin. Only you were burned long before your wings ever got the chance to spread aloft. Your feathers were merely burnt husks now, empty and lifeless, set ablaze by the utter monsters known as class 1-A.