Created
Status
Ongoing
Watchers
117
Recent readers
0

Nazumi Hasui is not hero material. Her father is a villain with a sludge quirk and her personality doesn't exactly inspire others. And yet she's applying to the most prestigious hero school in Japan.

Her reason? Spite, mostly.

AKA: The one with the daughter of the Sludge Villain.
Chapter 1: Origin Stories Are For Losers. (I’m a Loser.)
Author's Note: Crossposting this from SpaceBattle's and AO3. New to this site so let me know if I'm doing anything wrong and I'll fix it. Thoughts and comments are much appreciated.

"Hell is other people." I don't remember when I first heard that old quote, but I've repeated it to myself ever since.

If someone looks at me strangely? Hell is other people. Submitting a group project and it gets a bad grade? Hell is other people. My father is yelling at me after returning home? Hell is other people. It's a fun and easy way to push away all self-blame. All I need is those four words and suddenly every negative thing in my life has an easy explanation. If other people weren't around then my life would be heaven.

It applies to so much of life that it feels like it was made just for me. Of course, for as much as I say it, I've never actually believed it to be true. Sure, people are greedy and selfish, but people are also kind and generous. Society calls the most generous and kind of these people "heroes". Those who are willing to risk life and limb for the greater good. Heroes are revered by our society so much so that if you asked any kid under the age of thirteen what they wanted their job to be, they would probably answer "Hero!" with their brightest, most naive smile.

Heroes are often a force of positivity in society, with many of them running charities and helping the underprivileged on top of their already grueling hero work. It's a job that takes more than it gives, so it makes sense that people who become heroes are selfless forces of good.

This too, however, is a lie. Being a hero is still a job just like anything else. If you look at the statistics, heroes have a higher rate of domestic abuse than any other profession. Many heroes are selfish and only do their work for money on top of there being countless scandals involving heroes stealing charity money or using their fame to mislead adoring fans. If even heroes aren't good people, then obviously nobody is.

Ergo, hell is other people.

"Hell is other people and no single individual in this world can claim to be free of greed. We all have something we hide from the world. No matter how much somebody beats up villains or donates to charity, they all still have skeletons in their closet."

That's what an overly cynical loser who spends their days indoors would say, anyways.

Obviously a profession that pays people to be violent will naturally have a higher percent of violent people. Something like that is inevitable. Not all heroes are evil, a majority of them are people who genuinely wish to do good in the world. Even the heroes who only do it for money are still doing more good in the world than anyone else is doing by complaining about them.

"Hell is other people because you are, in some sense, forever trapped within them, subject to their apprehension of you." The words, 'hell is other people', were never meant to be a statement on how people are intrinsically evil.

Hell is other people, not because they are evil, or because they do bad deeds, it's because you can only ever view yourself through what others say of you.

If someone tells you that you're going to grow up and be a hero, naturally you'll believe them. Especially if you keep being told it. On the opposite end, I grew up always being told I'd be nothing. That I'd be a villain. People don't look at me as if I'm a youthful prodigy, they look at me as if I'm trash.

So of course I believed them. I never had any desire to be a hero, such a glamorous fate is too bright for someone like me. Hell, being a hero sounds miserable. Risking my life to stop a purse-snatcher, all for less pay than I'd make as a barista? I'd have to be thoroughly brainwashed to want a career like that. Hell might not be other people, but maybe it is heroics.

And yet, here I am. Sitting in my empty house and applying to the top hero school in the country. If you asked me "Do you want to be a hero?" my answer would be a resounding, "No thank you." My quirk is objectively weak, my father is an arrested villain, and everyone has zero expectations of me. There is no world where I belong in a hero school, even if I actually wanted to be a hero.

So why even try?

Well, if hell is other people, that is to say, if other people's assertions of you are hell, then it stands to reason that heaven must be yourself, or at least the belief you have in yourself.

Hell is other people. Heaven is yourself.

Because, despite how other people perceive me, I am capable of spitting in their faces and being a hero anyways. So, if you want to know why I, the daughter of a villain, am applying to U.A High, the reason is simple…

Because other people say I can't.

And I fucking hate other people. They are hell.

~~~~~~

I've never been a fan of heroes, ever since I was a kid. Not that I had any hatred towards them personally, I just found that all the worship and constant talk of heroics gave me a migraine. Even my father was the type to rant about heroes loudly over the television while drunk. As much as he would deny ever being a fan of heroes, he seemed to know the names of far more than I did.

"Heroes are just a bunch of frauds who hide behind their quirks to feel strong! Not a single one of those damn cheats have ever done anything productive!" I remember listening to him yell as he watched All Might performing an interview on the T.V.

Normally, when my father got into one of his moods it was best to either nod your head and agree with his displaced rage or to avoid him entirely. I had chosen the latter.

My older sister, Yuzuriha, had chosen the secret third option: argue back. "He saved all those people! Don't call him a fraud, especially as you sit here and do nothing for us!" She argued. How had she not learned the lesson that arguing never accomplishes anything? Even if she was right, it was pointless, Father wasn't going to change his mind.

She was six years older than me and still hadn't given up on her own opinions. In a way I admired her for it. The stupid, heroic confidence she has that I always pushed away.

"The hell did you say to me brat?!" He glared at her. I could see the signs of his quirk activating, even from where I sat in the kitchen, the familiar green sludge almost dripping from his arm.

"You heard me! You don't even have a job anymore! Mom left and you've just been complaining about whatever is on the news! How are you supposed to pay rent?!"

Concepts like rent and taxes were pretty big concepts for a 14 year old to grasp, but my sister was the type to handle them with ease. Maybe I should've asked her to help with my math homework, fractions were really hard.

My father clenched his fist in anger. For a second I thought the argument would escalate, but he breathed out. "I'll fucking figure it out?! Okay? God I'll get you some damn money. Is that what you want?" If the smell of alcohol wasn't an indicator to his drunken state than his slurred speech more than proved it.

Yuzuriha's voice started back up like she was going to say something, but she was cut off by Father standing up from the couch. The room fell silent for a second… and then he left. He turned and walked right out the front door into the cold of night.

I let out a breath I didn't even know I had been holding in.

That was the night when my father committed his first crime. He left, leaving my sister to prepare dinner for herself and me. Actually, my memories of it were more pleasant than negative, listening to my sister talk while I quietly ate the ramen she made for us both.

After we had already finished and cleaned the dishes, my father came barging back through the door. He was dripping the green sludge of his quirk, parts of his body transformed as others struggled to keep shape.

All I could do was stare. He fumbled to close the door and pulled out a grocery bag from the slimey parts of his body. He threw the dripping grocery bag on the couch. "I'm going to sleep." He said, leaving the bag there and heading upstairs.

Inside the bag were dozens of messily strewn about bills.

I don't remember much past that. My sister told me to go to bed and I did. I just know that when that month's rent came due, everything was paid for.

~~~~~

You'd think having a villain for a parent would lead to a rather depressing childhood. And well, you'd be right about me having a depressing childhood, but it had less to do with my father than one would expect.

Actually, once my father started committing crimes, he became much kinder, as ironic as that sounds. He'd still drink and complain about heroes but his arguments with my sister never went beyond yelling. We even moved to a better apartment within a year. I try not to think about how us moving just so happened to coincide with my father becoming a wanted villain.

It's not that I didn't know my father was a villain, it was just an open secret. Like how parents never truly tell their children that Santa Claus isn't real. They just leave the kids to figure it out on their own, and then the kids grow up, find out, and neither party ever confronts the other about the years of lies.

There's only so many things a child's naiveté can cover up. And a bloody bag of money sitting next to the coat hanger isn't one of those things.

My sister was more resistant to it than me. But even she never confronted him about it. To this day I don't know if her hesitation was because she was afraid of him or because we were too reliant on the money his villainy made to tell him it was wrong.

It didn't make much of a difference, did it? My sister left when I was twelve. The moment she became an adult she decided to leave this apartment that reeked of alcohol and blood.

"Nazumi." She said to me, leaning over the coffee table to look me in the eyes.

"Yeah, what's up?" I put the old gaming console I was playing down in order to look at her.

"I want you to promise me something, okay?" Her eyes were filled with an emotion I still think about. Maybe regret? Maybe joy?

"You're being weird, sis. Just tell me what you want." I gave a small smile. "You know, if you want me to do the dishes tonight, you can just say so."

She paused. "Nazumi, please." Her serious tone cut away my smile. "Please, never become a bad person. Never become like our Dad."

"Why are you talking about Father suddenly?" What a dumb response, it was obvious why she was saying that, I was just too dumbstruck at the time to say anything else.

"…" As stupid as it was, it was only then that I noticed the duffle bag she was carrying around her shoulder. "I'm going to do good in the world." She said it with such confidence I couldn't help but nod my head.

"…Of course you will." Was all I could say.

She smiled at me, her green hair flowing freely. I found myself for not the first, but probably the last time, feeling jealous that she got Father's hair color while I got our Mom's. "I'll come back, okay?" Those were the last words my sister told me before she walked out the door, into the cold of night.

I don't blame her for leaving me alone. Alone in an empty house with a criminal and my thoughts. Leaving me within this house of anger. I definitely don't blame her for the times I cried, wanting to be anywhere but here. It would be selfish of me to blame her for going somewhere better. So I don't blame her.

Not at all.

And when I do blame her, it's not like she's there to see it.

~~~~~

My school life was somehow worse than my home life, which was honestly quite an accomplishment.

Even though I'd say my school life is bad, I wouldn't make the claim that I was necessarily bullied, per say-

"Watch it, freak!" A stereotypical, jock-esque voice yelled as I bumped their shoulder. Well, not being bullied didn't mean I was well-liked within school. A combination of my antisocial personality and a quirk that occasionally dripped slime onto my desk made sure I was solidly at the bottom of any social ladder that existed. Not that I had any desire to climb it, caring about popularity and appearances is a one-way ticket to constant self-loathing and anxiety issues. Plus all the personal drama is enough to make me sick, no thank you, I'd rather stay out of that mess.

"…Sorry." I muttered an unenthusiastic apology to the person I bumped into and carried back on my way to class. It was our final year of Junior High, which meant most people were more concerned with studying than socializing. That also meant most of the whispers and gossip of the school were brought to a minimum, thank god.

Looking at the time on my phone showed that- Oh, I was already late to class. A loud voice came from a nearby classroom and I couldn't help but peek around the corner inside. "I would hand out these future career forms, but… I assume you ALL want to be heroes!" The teacher laughed and a cacophony of loud agreement filled the halls.

Seriously, you're just going to assume they all want to be heroes? What is that, some kind of joke? What if that kid with spike fingers in the second row wanted to be an accountant? Or the girl with a flamethrower arm- what if she wanted to get a doctorate? It's not like Aldera is a private school but I'd at least expect them to put some care into how they treat our futures.

The teacher began telling the class to calm down and I took that as my cue to stop stalking the halls like a creep and actually go to my class. The resounding sound of an explosion behind me made me a little upset that I didn't stay and watch more, but I couldn't afford to show up any later than I already was.

~~~~~

"Nazumi Hasui." My teacher, an older woman who's name I don't remember, turned to glare at me. "You're late."

"Sorry, Sensei. There was a family incident." That excuse would be good, right? I'd already used being sick as an excuse within the past week, so that wouldn't do. Maybe saying there was a traffic accident would've been better?

She just sighed. "Just go to your desk, I won't mark you tardy this time." Hell yeah, the excuse worked. "We're doing future career forms, please fill yours out and hand it up front before homeroom ends."

Nodding my head, I took one of the career sheets and walked over to my desk. The glares from students near me made me want to curl up and die, so I simply glared back at them, hoping it would have the effect I wanted. Most of the people staring at me turned back to their papers, which can be considered a success. Once I sat down, I got a better look at the paper.

"Write the three careers you most wish to pursue and three schools you wish to apply to."

Below the question were six boxes. I sighed and tapped my pencil on the paper. People around me were already handing their career forms to the front. No doubt they're the same type as the psychos from that other class, a bunch of hero-wannabe's. Seriously, how does anyone think that throwing yourself needlessly into life-threatening danger would make a good career goal?

With a sigh, I wrote down "Chemistry" "Law" and "Business" hoping to be as vague as possible so as to leave my options open, unlike others who had probably just put "Hero" three times. As long as I'd be able to make enough money to live then I'd be fine. Things like aspirations or dreams never really occurred to me.

As for deciding the schools, I simply put the three closest schools to my apartment, as long as it's within walking distance or had a train station nearby then I'd survive.

Once I was done, I signed the top of the page and handed it up front to the teacher. She took one glance at the paper and paused. "Are you sure about your choices here, Hasui? This is your future, you know."

Was there something wrong with my school choices? "It's fine. I wrote what I wrote."

She simply sighed. Hah, you think your disappointment will affect me? I've had an entire lifetime of parental indifference, your sighs mean nothing to me!

~~~~~~~

The rest of the day passed by in a usual blur, time distorting further with each passing class until eventually the final bell rang. Everyone got up from their seats in unison, heading to the door. The teacher didn't even give the usual comment of "The bell doesn't dismiss you, I do." Instead she just waved us all away. Maybe she was as excited for a weekend away from this place as everybody else.

I wish I could be as eager to return home as everybody else. As much as the idea of leaving this place was incredible on paper, the place I called my house wasn't a notable improvement.

Hmm… What will I make for dinner? Maybe I should actually stop by the grocery store in order to hand cook something? How many days in a row have I eaten instant ramen, now? The fact that I can't recall the answer told me it was too many.

The sound of an explosion turned me away from that depressing train of thought. Obviously the smart choice would be to walk away and pretend I didn't hear anything, but how often do you hear an explosion and not get a little curious? Actually, at this school the sound of explosions was incredibly common, but still.

I stood at the doorway, looking inside. It was the same classroom as earlier in the day… the one with the garbage teacher who just assumed a whole class of middle-schoolers shared the same dream.

"The best heroes out there, well… They all showed signs of greatness even as students." A voice said. It didn't take a genius to guess who the voice belonged to, he was well-known across the school. Bakugou, the shining gem of Aldera Junior High. He was the type of guy that everybody hated but nobody actually told him off. His grades were easily at the top and he had a quirk that practically made him a beacon of heroic destruction. Even someone with zero friends like me knew who he was to a certain extent.

"I'll be the first and only hero from this crappy public middle school!" he continued. Well, at least he was aware of where he was coming from, I guess. Good to know he hadn't somehow deluded himself into thinking this place was an academy for gifted geniuses. "And the first to get the honor of becoming a student at U.A. High." That school sounded familiar.

He tossed something over the edge of the room's balcony but I couldn't make out what it was. I almost wanted to chastise him for littering just to see how he'd respond.

"In other words… don't you dare try to get into U.A., nerd." It was only then I noticed who he was talking to. It was… uh, what was his name? The quirkless kid who everyone always made jokes about, god why can't I remember his name? Midori? No, that's just the color green… While I pondered on the name of the sad-looking boy, Bakugou began leaving the classroom and I realized very quickly that I was right in his line of fire.

He paused right in front of me. "The fuck are you looking at, freak?" Was all he said before glaring at me. His two "friends" chuckled at the joke and walked past me.

The spiteful part of my brain wanted to insult him back, but unfortunately the logical part of my brain was stronger. "…I was just checking because I heard an explosion."

"Well your hearing must be fucked up then, just stay out of my way." And with that he left the class, leaving me standing pointlessly in the doorway to a class I wasn't even in. The green-haired boy looked over at me pathetically.

Nope, it was not my job to talk with that guy. I turned back away from the door and made my way out of the school as fast as I could. Sure, I felt terrible for leaving him alone in that classroom, but I was too selfish to trade places with him any time soon. I worked hard to build up my reputation as "social outcast" as opposed to "victim of bullying" and I wasn't going to give it up that easily.

Yeah, I think I'm just going to eat instant ramen again.

~~~~~~

The walk home was uneventful, and as per usual my apartment was dead empty. "Beef or chicken flavor?" I asked the dead air, rummaging through the cabinets and seeing what ramen we had left. After an intense debate with myself, chicken was the winner.

My phone rang when the water was boiling. I almost instinctively declined the call because the only people who ever actually give me a phone call are scammers or people who've gotten the wrong number. But seeing the contact name "Father" made me pick up on the second ring.

"What is it, father?" I asked immediately.

"Hah… hah…." All I could hear from the other end was his panting breaths. And why was it so echoey, was he in a cave? "Nazumi…" He breathed out my name.

"Yes?" My voice came back before he even finished saying my name.

"Is there anyone near our apartment… any cop cars?" He asked and I could hear the panic in his voice even over my phone's tinny speaker.

"Let me check." It did occur to me very briefly that I was looking out for a criminal, but hey, no family is perfect. "Nope, there's no cars outside. Father, are you okay?"

"I'll come back." Was all he said. He grumbled something that sounded like "Why did he show up here?" But I wasn't sure. He breathed out a string of swear words and then hung up on me.

Well…

"Ah, crap! The water!" The water on the stove was already boiling before I even had the time to contemplate what that phone call meant.

Shut the stove off, take the water, fill the cup to the line, close the lid and let it stand for three minutes, remove the lid and stir. Add the flavor packet. Let it cool down. Eat.

Running through the familiar steps of instant ramen was just enough to keep my mind from thinking too deeply. At my core, I am a person who seeks distraction. Distraction from how my father was likely on the run from heroes as I sat and ate noodles. Distraction from how empty this apartment was. Distraction from checking my phone and looking at the news. I didn't need to think about any of that, I could just sit here, in silence, and run through the routine of making crappy instant noodles.

There was a pounding at the door and I hardly even flinched. Okay, maybe I flinched a lot. "Hello?" I called out to the door, too afraid to open it and see who was on the other side. The cup of ramen, or at least what I hadn't eaten, had long gone cold.

The slamming knock hit again. Should I hide? Or maybe if I just open the door whoever is on the other side won't murder me? "Open up! This is the police!" Oh. That made more sense.

"Um, okay…" I opened the door and perked outside. On the other end was indeed a group of three police officers. Behind them was a hero who I felt like I recognized. The one with a wood quirk. "…Do you want some ramen?" I asked as calmly as I could manage, but my voice was shaky. Maybe the attempt at humor would lighten the mood.

Well, at least one of the officers seemed to smile. "You're the daughter of Hedoro Hasui, correct?" The detective at the front asked.

Nodding my head I said, "Uh, yeah. I am." There was no point in lying about it if they already knew where Father lived.

"I'm detective Naomasa Tsukauchi. We're here to investigate and question you about your father. Will that be alright?"

Did I really have a say in the matter? Assuming the answer to that question was no, I opened the door fully. "Come inside."

At that, the head detective smiled and walked inside, the other officers and hero following inside.

~~~~~~~

I was sitting across from the detective, Tsukauchi, on the couch of my apartment's living room as he stood straight up across from me, this calm smile plastered on his face like he'd done this type of thing hundreds of times before. The fact that he probably has done this type of thing hundreds of times before didn't make me feel any better.

"I understand that this may be shocking to you, but your father was a villain acting under the alias of 'Sludge'. Earlier today, he was apprehended after an encounter with All Might in which he held a young boy hostage."

Of course, I already knew he was a villain, but Sludge, seriously? He couldn't think of anything better? "I knew he was a villain." Was all I said. Was I somehow implicating myself as a criminal in all of this by saying that? The detective's face hardly revealed any emotion that would give me an answer.

"Great, we're on the same page then. Now, I would like to ask some questions about your father." He pulled out a notepad and continued, "When would you say you became aware of your fathers criminal activities?" The other officers and the hero were poking around the apartment like it was a crime scene, which maybe it was.

"Well…" My nose scrunched as I thought back on the memory of that night. "Six years ago. He had an argument with my sister and then left the apartment, when he came back he had a bag of money." From the beginning, my father never had any talent for subtlety. It was a miracle this situation hadn't happened sooner, if I was honest.

"Sister? He didn't tell us of any relatives other than you when we questioned him." The detective noted something on his little pad.

A sarcastic laugh left my mouth, "Well, I was always the favorite." The detective seemed unamused so I continued, "She left when I was twelve, just over two years ago. And no, I don't know where she is." I added on the last bit when I saw the detective open his mouth to ask something.

"Okay, then… How does your fathers quirk work, exactly? The police are attempting to effectively detain him, and with his quirk… Well, it makes it difficult to do without a specialized holding cell." The mental image of my father shouting curses and attempting to escape filled my mind.

"Well… It's a transformation quirk, It works sort of similarly to mine? He can transform almost his entire body into slime. Emphasis on almost, he always has to have at least one part of his body remain solidified."

"Similar to your quirk?" He asked, looking up from his notepad. "Can you give more details on your quirk for comparison then? Of course, you don't have to share anything you don't wish to."

Shrugging my shoulders, I said, "It's alright. Though my quirk is actually weaker than my father's, so I don't know if it would be very much help."

"Weaker? What do you mean?" His eyes were filled with the most real emotion I'd seen the entire questioning process: curiosity.

"Well, my mom has an emitter quirk, and my Dad has a transformation quirk. When you combine the two, it doesn't always end perfectly. My sister got off way luckier. Her quirk is an emitter that allows her to transform the area around her into sludge and control it."

Detective Tsukauchi paused at that mention, "Really…? That sounds vaguely familiar…"

"Well, yeah, there are plenty of quirks that allow the user to transform their surroundings. Anyways, I got stuck with a transformation quirk like my Father. But because of my mom's emitter quirk canceling it out, I can only transform about this much of my body." Lifting up my arm, I showcased the quirk to the detective, my left hand dissolving into a clear blue slime which maintained its shape, although goopier, the slime stopping right at my wrist. "See? This is about my limit. And I can't keep it up for more than a few minutes. It heals small cuts but it's not really useful for much else."

My hand solidified and regained its pale color. "The emitter portion of my quirk allows me to create more slime, but it's pretty slow to come out and I have a limit of about ten liters before I get dehydrated." A small drip of slime fell from my palm.

The look of pity on the detective's face made me give a sardonic grin. "Oh, my father's quirk also allows him to copy quirks, but it's really more of a side-note."

"Copy quirks…?" There was genuine surprise written across his face, and it made sense. Copy quirks were rare and often extremely powerful, it made sense they would be feared, even if they always had some drawback that made them struggle.

"He can only actively copy the quirk of somebody who he's in direct contact with, once he stops touching them his copy of their quirk disappears immediately."

The detective's look of surprise softened and he scribbled a note. "That does explain the explosions… We just assumed it was the boy's quirk acting up but to think he was actively copying it…"

Of course, my own quirk also had a copying element, but I didn't mention that to the detective. It's not like it shared very much in common with my Father's ability and it was just as weak as the rest of my quirk, really.

The rest of the "questioning" didn't seem to reveal much in terms of evidence, though the detective did make fairly decent small talk. Which, considering my abysmal social stats, was great. Some people would feel embarrassed by having someone else carry the conversation, but not me. I'm more than welcome to accept the free ride.

"It has been a pleasure to have this conversation. I'm sure the information you've provided will help further our case." He finally put away the notepad. It looked like the other officers were carrying bags from around the house, most likely evidence they've gathered. "Do you have any final questions for us before we leave?"

"Uh, yeah." Biting the inside of my cheek, I looked around the living room. "What's going to happen to my house? I mean- am I going to have to go to like- an orphanage?"

His softened expression made me sick. "Well, as much as your father's activities were illegal, this house is still fully paid for, and we couldn't disown it from his name without more paperwork than it's worth."

Of course, there couldn't be good news like that without a catch. "…But, of course, we can't legally allow you to live alone at your age without a guardian."

There it was. Why even get my hopes up like that? "So I will go to an orphanage? Or wherever else they send kids without parents? You could've just said that."

"Well, no, not exactly. You will still be allowed to live here in your house." My eyes lit up at that, I couldn't help it. The house may be a complete disaster but it was still where I lived. "You will however be assigned a guardian by the Hero Public Safety Commission, who will check in on you on a weekly basis. I don't know much more than that."

Ugh, so I had to have a babysitter? At least it was better than having to move away. "Okay. That was my only question." I nodded my head, gesturing towards the door.

"Of course," he smiled, "Thank you again for all you've done, I understand it must not be easy." And with that, him and the other officers left, leaving me alone in this crappy house.

Not that I wasn't used to being alone in this crappy house. My father would often be gone for days at a time and when he showed up he'd just drink and sleep. Truthfully, the house had always been lonely, ever since my sister left.

But at least there had been a facade of family. At least I could pretend I didn't live alone. That had been stripped away from me. It's so absurdly selfish of me to wish that my asshole dad hadn't been arrested. I mean, he had literally held someone hostage and threatened the lives of plenty more. But when I looked around this empty apartment, with furniture slightly out of place from the police search, I don't know, it just all feels wrong. Because living with somebody who you never saw was so much less lonely than living with nobody.

Eventually I couldn't stand to look at the apartment's interior, so I shut the lights off and went to bed. I didn't dream that night.
 
Chapter 2: The Path Towards Greatness (Ehh… Okay, maybe not that great.)
~~~~~~
If school had been rough before, it became a whole different story the moment my father had been publicly arrested as a villain. Honestly, I was impressed at the speed with which rumors had begun circling, it had only been one weekend and already I was being glared at as if I had personally gone out and murdered a family of five. People whispered so loudly you'd think their sole purpose was to try and make me hear.

"Isn't she like- a criminal?"

No, I'm not, but I might become one if you can't learn to whisper below sixty decibels.

"I heard her dad ran the Yakuza!"

Hah, if he did then he would've been able to afford a better house. I wish. Also what kind of Yakuza leader would get arrested like that?

"She's a crack addict, dude! Stay away from her!"

Where did this one even come from? Was cocaine really so easy to buy that they think a middle schooler could do it?

And so on and so forth, the whispers seemed to follow behind me like a shadow wherever I went. Well, at least the concerning rumors did a good job at keeping people away from talking to me. And as an added bonus, whenever I even remotely glared in someone's direction, they'd take a few steps backwards. At least the incident meant people would leave me alone.

"Hey, you! The fuckin' sludge girl!" A familiar voice yelled from literally across the opposite end of the hall. Katsuki Bakugou.

Correction: almost everyone would leave me alone. "Uhm… Sorry I don't know anyone by that name." I laughed awkwardly, and looked around the halls, praying he was talking to literally anyone other than me. But obviously he wasn't. Everyone within a twenty meter radius had already backed away.

"Don't act fucking stupid! You know I'm talking to you!" He shouted way above an appropriate volume. To think I had thought peoples whispers were loud just a minute ago, I owe them an apology.

"Did I do something to you…?" I asked, genuinely curious what I had done to trigger the walking pipe bomb that was Bakugou.

"Did you do something?!" He sputtered out like the idea of me not knowing was somehow absurd and unreasonable. "Your D-List villain bastard of a father held me fucking hostage! Now everyone in this shithole thinks I'm a weakling."

Oh. Of course, not only did my father have to go and get himself arrested in a massive public incident, he also decided to hold the most angry and loud person in my school hostage. If I didn't know any better, I would have thought his arrest was an attempt for him to specifically ruin my life as well as his own. "I'm sorry?" Were the only words I could muster, even though they sounded nothing like a genuine apology.

"The fuck do you mean 'you're sorry'?!"

"I meant what I said- uh, do you not understand the concept of an apology?" There was almost a smirk on my face before I saw small sparks forming in his hands.

"Of fucking course I understan-"

DING DONG

"Nazumi Hasui, Bakugou Katsuki, and Izuku Midoriya, please report to the counselors' office."

The intercom announcement interrupted any of Bakugou's retorts and left us standing in a completely awkward silence. Wow, they sure stepped in quick. "Well, uh, guess I have to go to the counselors office. See you later." I waved and walked off, trying to walk as fast as I could to get away from him and avoid the classic 'heading in the same direction after a conversation ended' cliché.

Apparently that thought never even crossed Bakugou's mind and he took my speed-walking as some sort of competition. "They called my name too, dipshit!"

With every step he got faster, I also increased my speed in an attempt to stay a socially acceptable distance away from him, leading to what could only be described as the dorkiest race in the world and by the time we were in front of the counselor's office, we were both breathing heavily, me more than him.

Opening the door revealed a bundle of green hair. "A-Ah! H-Hey there, Kacchan!" Even with our intense speed walking contest, the green-haired boy, who I now knew was Izuku Midoriya, had made it before us both. He was standing in front of the counselor's desk.

"Tch, whatever, Deku."

What exactly was the relationship between these two? Previously, I had just assumed Bakugou was a stereotypical bully, picking on the quirkless kid, but why the heck are they calling each other by pet names? Maybe this is just a weird type of friendship beyond my comprehension. It's not like I had any friendships of my own to compare it against.

"I'm glad all three of you showed up." The counselor smiled calmly, ignoring their interaction. "You see, I called all three of you here because of your school applications."

"Is something wrong with mine?" I wondered aloud, trying to seem as disinterested as possible.

"No, nothing is wrong, of course. It is simply that all three of you have decided to apply for U.A." Immediately I could feel Bakugou's glare staring a hole in my head. "You see, there is nothing wrong with setting your sights high, but I hope to confirm that all three of you have backup plans, should you not pass the U.A. Entrance Exams."

Nodding my head, I said, "Of course. There's no reason why I'd put all my hopes in one school." Did I seriously apply to U.A.? What the hell was going through my head? It was one of the closest schools to Aldera, but I should've avoided that place like the plague.

Both Bakugou and Midoriya seemed significantly less confident about any 'back-up plans' they might have.

"Well, I am only telling you three to keep your options open. Such young potential shouldn't be squandered." He smiled. "Even if you do not make it into U.A. you still have plenty of opportunities elsewhere."

Bakugou scoffed at his words. "As if I'll fail."

The counselors simply laughed. "Of course, of course. Well, that was the only reason I called you three here today. If you want to change your school applications, I am here to help the process."

And with that, he dismissed us.

I expected to finally be free after that, but Bakugou immediately yelled. "I told you not to apply to fuckin' U.A. Deku! You quirkless bastard!"

Midoriya looked like he was about to stutter out an apology, "K-Kacchan… I-I…" he paused, tightening his hand into a fist. "I'm going to become a hero… S-Somebody told me that I could become a hero..." He actually stood up for himself.

"Huh?! What did you say to me?!" Bakugou stomped forward.

Normally, I wasn't the confrontational type. Hell, I was considering just walking away as soon as I saw them fighting, but some stupid part of me was annoyed at Bakugou. "Stop it. You aren't in charge of what schools people apply to, dude." Show as little emotion as possible.

Surprisingly, Bakugou backed off, just glaring at me. "I'll talk to you later, sludge girl. Don't think I forgot about what your shithead father did." His eyes were filled with a strange emotion and he stomped off. Could he end a conversation normally for once?

"Ugh, I hate this school…" I muttered, walking away as well. I had to get back to my classes after all. "Good luck at making it into U.A., Midoriya." I said as I waved and walked away. It was rare for me to be encouraging like that, but it's not like it'd hurt to be nice once in a while.

The rest of the school day passed by, with me paying very little attention to my actual classes. I was stuck thinking about the damned school applications. It was like some annoying itch I couldn't scratch, thinking about applying to a school for heroics. And I hated it.

~~~~~~

After school, Bakugou finally confronted me.

"You fucking bitch!" He shouted, an explosion acting as a period to his sentence.

We were outside of the school now. "Look, I'm sorry about what my dad did, but y'know, I didn't tell him to do it to you."

"Hah?! Really? Because isn't it mighty convenient that you just happen to apply to U.A., same as me? And your bastard sludge dad just happens to target the only competition you have?" He tilted his head, an overwhelming sense of rage obvious from his expression alone. Clearly he'd been stewing on this for the whole day.

"I didn't even plan to apply to heroics- plus, it's a school entrance exam, we're not competing." Explaining myself did nothing to his rage. Luckily he hadn't actually gotten violent.

"You're a fucking liar, Hasui. I see right through your bullshit." He stepped closer.

I wanted so badly to yell back at him, but I had enough experience with angry people in my life to know that it never worked. "I'm sorry. I'm wrong, you win, you're such a smart hero. Congratulations, you foiled my evil plot. Truly deserving of the honor of U.A High." I stoically waved my hands up and laced my voice with as much sarcasm as I could muster. "There, happy now?"

He sputtered, the boiling rage getting caught in his throat. "You- You fucking-" He took a step back. "You'll never be able to be a hero. You won't even make it past the fucking entrance exams, Sludge Girl." At least his accusations about me somehow orchestrating his situation stopped.

"I'm not even aiming to be a hero, I just looked up the three closest schools and wrote them down."

"Bullshit. You don't just write down U.A Highschool and forget it's a hero school." He said.

He was right, U.A was the kind of prestigious school that even some foreigners would recognize. "Well, I did. Not like I have any chance of passing the entrance exams, so why do you care?" It was easy to throw his own words right back at him.

He paused to look at my face. "Your negative nancy shtick pisses me the hell off, sludge girl. You might trick other extras with your excuses but it's plain as fucking day to see that you want to be a hero." He stated so bluntly, as if he had any idea what it was I wanted. It was so annoying.

"Pfftt, you really think that? You're more delusional than I thought." I began walking away from him, making sure to brush my arm past his. Hopefully he didn't notice the slime touching him and copying his quirk.

If he noticed, he didn't say anything about it. "I'm going to be the only person from this crappy public school to make it into U.A High School, understand?!" He yelled back at me as I walked away. "You and Deku should both remember it!" He pounded his fist to his chest, resulting in a small explosion. "I'm the strongest!"

"Of course, you're Grade-A hero material!" Was all I said, walking away with a wave and hearing him shout a string of curses before stomping off in another direction.

Once I was sure I was far enough away, I let out the biggest sigh of my life.

Man, people who want to be heroes are terrifying. His words played in my mind, 'You won't even make it past the fucking entrance exam.' Something in those words drove me up a wall. There was no way he was right about me wanting to be a hero, but still, the idea of seeing his face when he's not the only person to graduate into U.A…

Hell, if the quirkless green-haired friend of his pulled out an underdog victory then Bakugou would only be one of three people from this school to make it into U.A.

Call me petty, but that was the moment I decided to try and train for the U.A. entrance exams.

~~~~~

Walking home, I'd decided to stop at a nearby park and test my quirk. It's a bit embarrassing how much of an impulsive decision it was for me to try and suddenly join U.A High. I mean, most people spend their whole lives dreaming of this place and I'd just decided to take their entrance exam because… some annoying guy from my school said I couldn't? But it's not like I seriously expected to pass the exam anyways, so no harm in at least trying, right?

My quirk is simply named "Slime" a name that is both unimpressive and entirely accurate. Seeing as it's a lame quirk, a lame name makes sense as well. It allows me to turn a relatively small portion of my body into slime, as well as create more slime using water and carbohydrates from my body. The end result is a quirk that can't really be used for offense at all, and can barely be used for defense.

My control over the slime is limited to the slime that is in direct contact with my body, so I have no telekinetic control over it or anything like that once it leaves my body. Arguably, the most useful ability the quirk grants is that if given enough time and water it could allow me to regenerate from pretty much any injury, at least hypothetically.

See, since the quirk lets me transform into slime (partially) and create new slime (weakly) it technically allows me to recover from injuries. Say, if I were to cut off a finger, almost immediately my body would turn the injured area into slime and create new slime to make up for the lost finger. I definitely didn't learn this from a cooking accident. Definitely not. Regardless, my quirk could hypothetically regenerate full limbs given enough time, but I'm not so eager to test that theory out.

If I were to point at the real "power" of my quirk though, it'd be my ability to copy quirks… sort of. If my slime makes contact with someone's body then I can copy their quirk and add it into my "shelf" of quirks, as I like to think of it. Once I copy a quirk, it gets added onto the shelf as a new book I can "read" and use. However, there's limited space, I can only copy around 10 quirks. Plus, using more than one quirk at a time is only "possible" in the same way reading two books at once is possible. It completely splits my focus. But if I memorize two quirks completely, theoretically I could use them simultaneously.

Now, with all that, you'd think "Wow, that's a pretty powerful copy quirk." If you ignore the fact that… The copied quirks only affect the parts of me that are slime. And since I can barely transform one hand into slime for twenty minutes… You begin to see the issue. The effects of copied quirks are also wildly inconsistent. I could copy two different, seemingly identical, fire quirks and one of them would make my slime sort of warm and the other would light my slime on fire. It's a total crapshoot.

Holding out my hand, a small pool of slime formed in my palm as I focused my mind on my new copy of Bakugou's quirk. The mental book opened and filled my mind with information of his quirk. Apparently his quirk didn't just create explosions out of nothing, it turned his hand's sweat into an explosive chemical. Which meant my copied version of his quirk partially infused my slime with a similar substance. In practice, this meant I was now holding a small liquid bomb in my hands. Honestly, I was a bit scared to activate it properly. But hey, nothing new is learned from not trying.

BANGGG.

The resounding sound of an explosion immediately turned all nearby eyes towards me and I shook my arm in pain. "Okay, fuck, ouch… bad idea…" I awkwardly looked around from the bench I sat at and pretended like I wasn't the one who just made the loud sound. The top of my hand had instinctively turned to slime in an attempt to shield myself from the blast, which, since it was still copying Bakugou's quirk, led to a chain reaction, making an explosion far bigger than I intended and leaving my ears ringing.

Okay, so that was definitely a bad idea. Although my quirk let me copy quirks, it did nothing to give me any of the resistances the quirk's owner would have. So although I might be able to make explosions in my hand, my body was not built to handle the backlash. Normally my copy of quirks were significantly weaker than the base quirk, as if my slime tended to "water down" the effect of the quirk. But since Bakugou's quirk changed the chemical compounds of the slime fundamentally it must've been far more dangerous. That, In addition to the fact that I can create significantly more slime than Bakugou can create sweat, meant that my copy of his quirk was possibly the first useful thing my quirk had done in years. It was just as strong, if not stronger than his quirk. At least in terms of pure "explosiveness".

It was a bad idea to try and copy how Bakugou used the quirk though… Maybe if I just threw the slime I could trigger the chemicals and blow it up? Maybe, but it wouldn't work for long distances, and I'd still be in the blast zone. But it did seem like I could ignite it from a distance…

I'd already made enough of a scene though and I wasn't looking to get arrested for public quirk usage by throwing around explosive slime so I simply walked home in shame, the ache in my arm having almost fully healed by the time I was back at my house.

If I wanted to get into U.A, I was going to need to do more than just copy an explosion quirk.

~~~~~~~

The next few days went by slower than usual. My school life was similar, with people avoiding talking to me, but instead of simply ignoring my existence like before, they were now avoiding me out of some gross sense of fear. But hey, at least they were avoiding me still.

The only people who seemed willing to acknowledge my existence were the two others who were at the counselors office. On one hand, you have Bakugou, who whenever he sees me shouts something along the lines of "Sludge girl, get the fuck out of my way. You're a shitty extra. I'll fucking crush you, string of curse words, blah blah blah, et cetera." I've gotten used to tuning out most of his rants whenever we cross paths in the hallway at this point.

On the other hand, there was Midoroya Izuku, a boy so meek it felt like he'd apologize to an inanimate object for bumping into it. He didn't seem to share the same fear for me as the rest of the school, but his awkward attempts at conversation were somehow worse than listening to Bakugou's shouting.

"U-Um, it's great that you're aiming for U.A too, Hasui…! Let's both try our best! And- um- don't listen to what Kacchan says, he really means his best, he's just not great with encouragement. I'm sure he's telling you to do your best too in his special way, and um thank you for what you said and-" He rambled for another minute, leaving me to awkwardly try and digest all that he said.

"Sure. Uh… Plus Ultra?" Was that really my best response? Wow, I'm more socially inept than I recognized. But still, even that much seemed to make him smile so I suppose it's okay.

Outside of the two weirdo's I occasionally spoke to at school, my life had changed in another way.

I've started training. That is to say, I've emulated a child's idea of training. I tried looking up strength training routines but there was too much to piece together a real routine. So I'd just ended up doing push-ups and running like a psychopath until I nearly vomited and passed out for the last few days. I could barely run a couple of kilometers before my legs gave out on me. If I wanted to even have a chance at passing the entrance exam and rubbing it in everyone's face then I'd need to improve drastically over the next ten months in preparation for U.A's entrance exam.

I'd started taking the longest route home just as an excuse to run more and exercise. Which meant the sun was already setting when I made it back to my house. And… There was someone standing at the door.

"Um, hello…? Can I help you?" The man had a pair of wings and was obviously distracted by his phone. He was wearing a jacket that seemed inappropriate for the spring weather. But at the same time, he was familiar in a way I couldn't place.

His eyes looked up from his phone. "There you are! Sheesh, I'd started to get worried you'd run away, that would've meant so much more work." His grin was the opposite of reassuring.

"Sorry, should I know you…?"

"Oh, didn't they tell you? The Hero Public Safety Commission sent me to check in on you." He leaned casually against the entranceway to my house. So this was the babysitter they sent?

"Oh, okay. Well, I'm still alive, I guess? Is that all?" He was blocking the way into my house. "Do I recognize you from somewhere?" The familiarity of his face was seriously starting to bug me.

He laughed openly. "You're tellin' me you don't recognize the number three hero?" Oh. That definitely made sense. Vague memories of my father ranting about a winged hero played back in my mind.

"Sorry, the only heroes I'm really familiar with are All Might and Endeavor." I shrugged. "Don't you have hero work to be doing or, y'know… something other than checking in on me? Couldn't they have sent someone else?"

"The HPSC seems to think I have more time than other heroes just because my quirk allows me to travel faster than most airplanes." He said, there was a hint of something in his eyes. Was he lying?

My shoulders shrugged. "Sounds like a pain in the ass. You should quit. Can I go inside my house now? I'm tired."

"Hah!" He laughed loudly, holding his stomach. "Man, you're a riot, kid. You remind me of myself a few years back, that's hilarious." He rubbed a tear from his eye from the laughter. I don't think I said anything that funny, really. But at least I managed to make a top hero laugh, if I was someone more obsessed with Heroes then that'd probably be written on my tombstone. "Before you retreat back to your cave, I have a question or two for you."

"…It's not a cave, but okay." If answering a stupid question let me go eat ramen and sleep then I'd tell this guy my social security number if I had to.

His expression softened. "How are you handling it?" He asked vaguely.

"Handling what? Your presence? I'd say I'm handling it pretty well, all things considered."

He smirked, "No, not that." His expression returned to that neutral, almost concerned, face. "Your father's arrest. How are you dealing with it? It's not an easy thing to go through."

Sure, it was rough being raised by a villain but stop looking at me with that pitiable face, sheesh. What would you know about my situation, Mister Hero? "I'm dealing with it just fine. It's nice to have the house to myself." I lied easily.

He shrugged. "Alright, if you say so. There have just been cases of the children of villains going on to do some dangerous things."

Oh, so that's why they sent a hero instead of a normal employee, they were worried I was going to go down the same path as my father and they wanted someone capable of arresting me to make sure I stayed in line. Not only were my classmates spreading rumors that I was going to turn out to be a villain, the literal government was as well. "I answered your question. Can I go in now?"

"One more question." He said, and I groaned. "Don't worry, it should be a quick one. Would you want to work for the Hero Public Safety Commission?" He said, calmly. But his look of disgust somehow made it seem like the least appealing job in the world.

"No? Why would I even want to do that?" I was still in junior high. I didn't think the HPSC was in the business of hiring children.

He didn't answer that. "Great! Those were the only questions!" He said, something akin to relief in his eyes.

"Can I go inside now?" My impatience was clear as day.

"Totally, that should be enough time to appease them and their dumb questions." He laughed and moved out of the way of the door.

Great, I could finally get some actual rest after training. Wait… A thought crossed my mind as Hawks' flapped his wings, about to leave. "Actually- You're a top hero, right?"

"Yeah, practically the best. Why?" His wings fell down. "You need to report a crime or something?"

"I'm uh-" God, I sounded so dumb and awkward, this was the best opportunity my stupid life had given me. "I want to go to U.A. High School. Can you help me train?" Hopefully that didn't sound too desperate.

"Oh? Right after you rejected my glamorous offer to work for the HPSC?" There was no real disappointment behind that statement like I'd have expected. "Well… Despite what the commission thinks, I am a pretty busy person." So that was his answer.

He cut off my train of thought with his next words- "…But I should be able to offer you some help. The actual training would still be all on you, but I can give you some diet plans and training routines from when I was a kid, how's that sound?"

"Really…?" It was almost too good to be true.

"Yeah, I don't see why not. I'll give you them when I check in next week, until then just focus on exercising your quirk and eating higher protein foods." He waved his arms.

My eyes widened. "Seriously? Does ramen count?"

He laughed, "In what world is ramen high in protein? Just try to balance your diet with more meat and eggs and stuff."

"Well, technically my quirk is more effective when I eat foods that are high in starch and sodium, so eating instant ramen isn't unhealthy, it's a strategic decision rooted in years of knowledge." I nodded my head calmly.

To my surprise, he didn't immediately discredit my ramen theory. "Every quirk has different dietary requirements, sure. But if you're hoping to gain any muscle you need to eat protein as well. If you made it into U.A then they'd probably restrict your diet more, but I'm not as strict as them, so just eat enough protein and calories for the muscles you're trying to grow."

"Hmm… Alright, I'll try." I said with as little enthusiasm as I could. I held out my hand to him, hoping to offer a handshake in an attempt to copy his quirk.

"That's the spirit! I'll leave it to you then." He accepted the handshake without a second guess and I created as little slime as possible to touch his hand. At worst, he'd probably just assume I had sweaty palms. "Have a good one, kid! Good luck on your hero dreams." He pointed a finger gun at me and then his wings soared up and flapped him away, leaving me in a heavy silence.

Yet another person wrongly assumed I was doing this to follow a fake dream of becoming a hero.

When I went inside and ate ramen, I made sure to cook extra beef and eggs to go alongside it.

"I hope all Pro Heroes aren't that weird." Was my final thought as I cleaned up the dishes and went to bed. I'd figure out how exactly I should practice my quirk in the morning.

~~~~

The next week passed by in an instant. Mostly as a result of how tired my "training" had been making me. Doing quirk training alongside the already tiring running and push-ups left me feeling like I was about to pass out every second of every day. Not to mention, for the first time in my life I had started showing up to class on time and paying full attention to the lessons. Because of course U.A wouldn't let someone in on strength alone. So now I was playing catch-up on two fronts.

Honestly, I felt I had a better chance of acing the written portion of a hero exam than I did with the practical portion. It's easy to learn information, it's significantly harder to get strong. Even with a shoddy copy quirk. Balancing quirk training and physical training and studying was proving to be a hell of a task.

Speaking of quirk training… If you were to describe my idea of quirk training, I think it would be more accurate to call it "pollution."

Every night, after I was already exhausted from physical training, I would go back to my apartment and grab a bucket and a backpack full of water bottles, which were way heavier than they had any right to be. Carrying a bucket and a backpack like the world's least impressive fisher, I made my way to Takoba Beach.

And there, amidst the smell of decaying garbage, I would groan and sob in pain while pouring slime into the bucket until it was either full or I was so dehydrated my head started pounding. I'd then either dump the bucket into the ocean and start again or I'd chug a water bottle and then fill it up further, pushing my quirk far past its usual limits. It was incredibly helpful, but it was definitely a miserable experience.

~~~~~

One night in particular, after I'd gotten used to the routine of admiring the night stars on my walk to the beach, I'd hear a grunting noise at the beach. Lo and behold, Midoriya was at the beach as well, dressed in a tracksuit, he was desperately pushing a fridge that refused to budge. He shoved the fridge for a solid minute before shrugging and picking up smaller garbage over the beach.

Huh, it looked like I wasn't the only one of the U.A hopefuls training at inappropriate hours. He didn't give any chance for me to run away and find somewhere else to dump slime before he noticed me. "Hasui!" He grinned and waved wildly. "Wow, it's funny seeing you here, what are you doing at Takoba so late? Ah- and what's the bucket for?" He said.

"Oh- uh…" I glanced between him and the bucket. "Just quirk training." I said, without explanation.

Somehow, after a few seconds, he understood completely what I meant. "Oh! Your quirk lets you create slime, right? That's really interesting! I wonder if training it would increase the output speed of the slime, or maybe it would just increase the efficiency of it, letting you make more? Does your diet change the consistency of the slime? Oh- can you move it independently of your body?" He stuttered through a laundry list of questions and ideas before ashamedly rubbing his neck. "Sorry, haha… "

"No, it's chill." I nodded. "I'm still figuring it out myself, so I can't really tell you much." Shrugging, I moved along to the beach's shore.

"I understand…!" He nodded.

"Well- uh, I'll just be training my quirk… Try and ignore my presence."

"Of course…!"

That night passed in an awkward silence as we both did our respective training. It wasn't like me and Midoriya disliked one another, or that we didn't have anything to talk about. This silence was simply the result of putting two socially awkward nerds on a beach together. By the end of the night we waved our goodbyes and went home.

I suppose actually talking to another human being wasn't the worst thing in the world. Maybe.

~~~~~

The most useful thing I'd gained from meeting the number three hero hadn't actually been his guidance or training routines. Because, although those were proving to be useful, they did very little for me in the short term. The most useful thing I'd gained, or more accurately, the most useful thing I'd wrongfully stolen without any permission at all, was his quirk.

Now, I know this might be hard to believe, but growing up, I wasn't always such a cynic. Let me paint a picture of my life at age six for you: a small girl, still with hope in her eyes that one day her quirk might be useful. This young girl with a weak copy quirk, naturally runs around the streets tapping every stranger she can find with her quirk (because her parents were downright negligent and her sister was at home studying).

Now imagine that same child, after weeks of doing this, with the only useful power she'd copied being a quirk that let her slime spin around in a circle. And now finally, imagine that child growing up with an older sister who's quirk is constantly being praised by everyone around her. This, as you would figure, is the story of my life.

So to have copied two actually useful quirks within a week of each other made me pretty damn excited. Since the copied quirks only affect the slime, it was pretty rare for them to do anything at all. Telekinetic quirks especially were a bad match for my slime. When I was younger, I had hoped that copying a telekinetic quirk would let me move around my slime in the air like a gross, gooey ghost. And since telekinetic quirks were so common it would have been easy, right? Nope.

What copying a telekinetic quirk actually did was give my non-sentient slime the ability to control things with its mind. Which it didn't have. Do you see how I struggled?

Hawks' quirk was different though. His wing quirk gives the hero the ability to telekinetically control his entire body; he flies through this control and his feathers and wings are an extension of that ability. Whereas telekinetic quirks are a dime a dozen, quirks that let their users control themselves were much rarer. The most popular hero who has a quirk like that is Captain Celebrity, the third highest ranked hero in America. And I'd managed to copy a quirk like that by pure chance.

Whereas telekinetic quirks required some degree of thought, Hawks' quirk functioned mostly by instinct and muscle movement, meaning that finally I could fulfill my childhood dream of moving my slime in the air.

The effect was… Well, I'm not going to complain, but my slime is a lot less strong than his feathers.

There was one more thing I wanted to test with it though, and luckily Takoba beach was empty that night.

The garbage on the beach seemed to glisten in the moonlight. "Hah… Okay, let's try…" In my hand, a pool of slime formed and then floated slightly above it with the use of Hawks' quirk, as well as taking on a form that… sort of resembled a ball if you squinted. Using the quirk felt like moving an extra limb, or in the case of my watered down version of the quirk, a finger. But still, I used all my mental energy to send the little ball of slime flying at a nearby microwave. It hit the target dead on with a splat… And now comes the fun part.

Quickly, I stopped copying Hawks' quirk and switched to Bakugou's quirk. I had to act quick before the slime dripped away, but I activated the ignition of his quirk.

With a blast, the slime exploded. It was much smaller than the last time I used Bakugou's quirk, but it was still enough to shatter the microwaves glass and knock it over.

And… Holy shit, my quirk had actually managed to cause destruction to anything other than me. It was dumb, but I was grinning to myself as I formed another ball of slime and launched it again, exploding the microwave beyond recognition. "Haha… Hah! Yes!" My cynical facade faded for a second as I laughed like an idiot at my mediocre accomplishment.

As dumb as it is, in that moment… I felt like I might just have a chance at passing the U.A. Entrance Exams.

Once I'd exhausted my quirk thoroughly and practiced the attack, I walked home in a happy silence, the spring winds feeling as if they were soothing my aching muscles. Ten more months of training were all I had to pass this exam. Realistically, I'd fail. But somewhere, buried in the back of my mind, was a shred of hope.
 
Last edited:
Chapter 3: Exams and Heroic Nonsense
The ten months before the entrance exams could best be described as "routine". It was the type of tedious exercise and training that most stories would skip over. If I were writing an autobiography about my life… Well, first off, I'd regret all life choices that led up to me writing about something as lame as my life, but secondly, I'd only spend about a paragraph talking about these months of training.

It's strange how even something like quirk training in the middle of the night or tiredly slamming my alarm and slumping my way to class the next morning, only to write down every bit of notes I could cram into my already tired head, can become a routine. It became so much of a habit that I don't even question myself spending at least an hour exercising every day.

It was the type of thing that even a year ago I would have never done. Hell, even right now I don't think it feels natural. As if I'm fighting against my true nature by being so productive.

Hawks followed through on his word, and every week he'd stop by the front of my house and offer some pointers on quirk training or something. But mostly he'd just rant about how the HPSC were pestering him, or how there was a hair in his sandwich, or whatever other boring stories he could come up with to pass the time. I'd started mentally timing his visits and it was clear that he had to spend at least five minutes with me or else he'd get in trouble.

That much was fine, at least he didn't make an effort to hide the fact that he was only hanging around because he was assigned as my guardian. I appreciate transparency like that. When I become a hero, I hope to be the type who doesn't lie with a smile, and instead become the type who tells the truth with a frown.

"When I become a hero" since when was I so confident in my odds of passing?

Regardless, the ten months were a hazy blur of working out until I puked, quickly followed by studying until I nearly puked, and finished with sleeping until I woke up and puked.

Aside from Hawks, the only human interaction I had was limited to my fellow freaks of Aldera Junior High. AKA: Bakugou Katsuki and Midoriya Izuku.

They were both training just as hard as I was, if not moreso. I'd often see Midoriya at Takoba beach, and he'd actually managed to clean up the whole thing before the entrance exam, which was pretty damn impressive.

With Bakugou, I could tell when he had spent the previous day training based on his lack of obvious insults. There were a couple rules I'd learned over these ten months of loose interaction with Bakugou, the biggest one being that he never actually means a whole lot of what he said.

"I'll fucking murder you." was basically Bakugou shorthand for "Good morning." Ever since the day he was held hostage by my father, his attitude towards everyone around him shifted. He'd went from threats of violence followed by acts of violence to threats of violence followed by stomping away from whoever he was speaking to in a huff. Maybe he'd realized that being an asshole was a bad look for someone aiming to be a hero. But hey, who am I to comment?

After those ten tedious and tiring months of training and studying, it was finally the day to put it to some degree of use. And then, after I inevitably fail the U.A. entrance exam, I can go on with my life with a smile, having bettered myself in the process. At least that was the hope.

~~~~~

The usual morning routine followed: Wake up in my bed feeling like shit with my muscles aching less than the night before, but still aching. Slam the alarm I have on my nightstand that was blaring in my ear. Crawl out of the bed like a demon before getting dressed, doing stretches, and heading downstairs.

Once in the kitchen, I open the fridge to pull out a familiar protein shake. Hawks gave me a monthly supply of them and they tasted utterly disgusting, but he promised me they 'helped muscle growth' or whatever. I've still yet to figure out if they were meant as a prank or if he just wanted me to share in his suffering. Once I chugged a full bottle of it, I groaned and reached for another to bring with me for after the exam. U.A. was infamously tight-lipped about their entrance exams, but if it was anything like other hero schools then it would be intense.

I ate two bananas, considered that a breakfast and left for the train.

To my surprise, when I opened the door, there was somebody waiting for me.

The familiar laidback grin of Hawks met me.

"Huh? You're not supposed to show up this week until thursday. Don't tell me you're already experiencing symptoms of dementia." I said, completely deadpan.

"Hahaha! It'll take a while before I'm that old, you know." He leaned against the wall. "I just wanted to give you some encouragement before your big test."

My face scrunched up in an uncomfortable frown. What was his reason for this? Surely there had to be an ulterior motive somewhere, but I couldn't place what it was. "It doesn't matter either way. I did what I could and the results will be what they are." That was probably the most roundabout way of saying 'I probably won't pass.'

He shrugged, "You've got this, kid. Any hero school would be happy to have you after all you've done." Yeah, maybe that is the case, but I wasn't aiming for just any hero school, was I?

"I'll do my best." I said after an awkward moment of silence.

He laughed and patted my back. "I know you will. Hell, I probably have more faith in you passing this thing than you do."

He was probably right, after all, I didn't have any faith in passing this test, not for even a second. "Hmm. I guess you're right."

"Jeez, kid. Have at least a little confidence in yourself. You worked for this, so go out there and show them the hero you can be. Okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Only if you stop using visiting me as an excuse to slack off at your job." A smile tugged at my lips.

"You caught me!" He raised his hands up defensively and laughed. "Go give them hell, alright?"

And with that, he casually flew away from my porch and left me with the hint of a stupid smile on my face. I suppose it wouldn't hurt if I tried to push myself for this exam.

~~~~

The train ride was twenty minutes, but it felt like five with how often I would zone out and think about the exam.

The most likely outcome would be something like a fight against either U.A. Teachers or other examinees in order to prove your abilities. I'd obviously be at a disadvantage in a scenario like that, so I had to consider the best path to take.

Well… my quirk, despite being a copy quirk, lacked versatility at the moment. The only quirks I had of any use were Bakugou's and Hawks'. Maybe I could copy somebody else's quirk before the exam but trying to figure out how to use it without practice would be disastrous.

And Bakugou's quirk was my only offensive tool right now. If I had to fight a drawn out battle then I would be screwed. My slime gets destroyed whenever I use his quirk, which means I'm effectively destroying my body every time I use it.

My best course of action is to end the fight soon. As long as it's not a drawn out fight… I might have a chance.

The train stopped and interrupted my poor attempts at strategy, leaving me to exit with a sigh and begin the walk to U.A. for the exam.

~~~~~~

U.A. High was everything it was hyped up to be and more. The building more resembled a castle than a school in its sheer size alone. I guess government funding gives certain benefits, huh?

I stood before the intimidating building and breathed in. My first steps towards failing this exam and moving on with my life. I thought before taking that step. Unlike a certain green-haired boy behind me, I didn't trip over thin air the moment I entered the premises.

Instead, I just felt a cloud of guilt as I walked beside all these hopeful to-be heroes, knowing full well that I belonged nowhere near a place like this with people like them.

~~~~

The auditorium was massive. There's no more efficient way to make someone feel out of place than placing them in a room bigger than they've been in their entire life.

And there's no more efficient way to make that person incredibly awkward than placing them right next to the only two people they know from Junior High.

"Huh, so you actually fuckin' showed up." Bakugou didn't say any more than that when I took my seat to his left.

"I'm surprised you didn't blow something up on the way here." I retorted weakly.

"Tch," He tch'ed.

"H-Hasui! It's good to see you here! Let's all do our best!" Midoriya waved from next to Bakugou, leaving the explosive boy in the awkward position of being stuck between us.

"Yeah, totally." I was really hoping we didn't have to fight each other for the entrance exam. I think I'd be beaten by Midoriya's effortless selflessness in a fraction of a second.

Before we could talk among ourselves more, an announcer shouted out from the stage of the auditorium.

"Welcome to today's live performance!! Everybody say HEEYYYY!!" He shouted. His hair was styled oddly and he was incredibly loud. Of course, not a single person repeated his enthusiastic "Hey!!" Although I did see Midoriya start saying it only to stop the moment he realized nobody else was going to.

"Well, that's cool, my examinee listeners!!" He bounced back easily enough from the unreceptive audience, I suppose. "I'm here today to present the guidelines of your practical exam!! Are you ready?!" More dead silence.

Midoriya muttered something about the hero presenting the guidelines, but he was cut off by Bakugou telling him to shut up. All I'd heard from Midoriya's hero-obsessed murmurs was the name 'Present Mic'. It sounded familiar so I'll believe it.

Present Mic carried on, explaining the rules of the exam. The gist of it all was that we'd be running around a fake city, trying to hunt down robots for points, with there being three tiers of robots, each worth one, two, and three points respectively. All in ten minutes. Already, it seemed to be built to favor more mobility-based quirks, and seeing as my quirk gives me very little in terms of movement besides plain old running, I was already at a major disadvantage. It didn't seem quite as bad as I was expecting, but it was far from being to my advantage.

The only good news he was delivering is that we'd be separated based on which schools we went to. So I wouldn't have Bakugou to compete with. A small blessing. Maybe I could copy some form of mobility quirk? No, it was unreasonable to expect a quirk like that to appear from nowhere, let alone for me to use it efficiently with my slime. So I'd be stuck running around on foot like an idiot.

"May I ask a question?!" A voice shouted out from behind me, interrupting my internal strategy meeting. "There appear to be no fewer than four varieties of faux villain on this handout! Such a blatant error, if it is one, is highly unbecoming of U.A., Japan's top hero academy!" Wow this guy sure had a privileged upbringing, huh? For some reason he gave off the vibe of someone asking to see Present Mic's manager. "And you, with the curly hair!" His glare turned towards my direction. "You've been muttering this whole time… It's distracting!! If this is some sort of game to you then leave immediately!" Oh, thank god he wasn't talking to me.

"Sorry…" Izuku muttered.

"God damned extra, I'll kick his ass…" Bakugou muttered, barely audible. Wow, glasses over there even managed to piss off Bakugou. Not as if that was much of an achievement.

"Alright, alright! Examinee 7112, nice catch! Thanks!" Present Mic went on to explain the fourth robot. An obstacle who's not worth any points? That seemed suspect to me. Knowing this school they probably had a system in place to give whoever put themselves in the most danger an instant pass. Or some other heroic nonsense. I'll keep it in mind, though.

~~~~~

I stood in front of the concrete city, keeping a solid distance away from the rest of the contestants. Maybe it'd be best to copy some interesting quirks while I'm here, and then take Shiketsu's exam next week. If I actually wanted to be a hero then that's probably what I'd be doing.

But now that I was standing alongside all these smiling, confident faces… I felt guilty. Did I even deserve to share in their dreams? No, of course I didn't. I knew that from the start. I'm a fraud and I'm here to prove a point, I don't belong next to these hero-hopefuls. And that's alright.

I've already scammed my way this far, who was to say I couldn't go even further beyond? Plus Ultra or something.

"And… Start!!!" A loud voice shouted from above us.

Huh? Already? No countdown? A boy with pitch black skin and white hair was already darting ahead of the stunned crowd, as well as a girl hopping on all fours like a frog.

It became clear to me at that moment… True heroes are those who are ready to act on a moment's notice. And so, it was only natural I was one of the last to move. "What's wrong? The test's started!! Run, the die is cast!"

With that mocking encouragement, I darted into the city. The streets were maze-like, winding and turning at unpredictable angles. I was already behind the crowd, so I took a left turn in hopes to avoid the majority of other examinees. Slime formed in my palm as my gamble paid off, and I found myself head to head with a two-pointer. The slime grew to the size of a baseball before I used Hawks' quirk to shoot it forward. Slime hit metal with a lame 'splat' before I switched to Bakugou's quirk and ignited it.

Metal was shredded easily by the explosion, and I ran right past the robots' blown-up corpse to find more. At my current limit, I couldn't create more than ten of these "slime grenades" as I'm calling them, without drinking water.

The hectic energy of the exam continued as a three-pointer and a one-pointer appeared when I rounded a corner. They were already being fought by somebody, and the heroic thing to do would obviously be to let him have the points. Which was why a slime grenade splatted the three pointer and tore it to shreds before he could make contact with it. "Huh…?" He turned around to look at me. He was wearing a white and blue headband, holding up his black hair. "What was that for?" He asked.

"Just uh- helping out." Was the best lie I could come up with the moment my actions were noticed. In a flash of movement, his hand made contact with the one-pointer, and its metal body seemed to stick to the ground before shutting down.

"I don't need help, but thanks, I fuckin' guess." And with that, he ran off in the other direction. Ah, crap! I should have copied his quirk! He clearly had a way to stop these robots easily, it would have been a good one to steal. Oh well, too late now…

Running through the maze that was the concrete city, I'd managed to blow up four more two-pointers and a single three-pointer, bringing my total up to a measly sixteen points, with only three slime grenades left to use. Scraps of robots littered the battlefield. "Dammit… There's no fucking shot…" My own breath was all I could feel as I tiredly ran into another alleyway, blowing up the three-pointer that was hiding inside. Two blasts left. Nineteen points.

The main area of the city was a total wreck when I made it back to search for any lingering robots. A few other examinees seemed to have had the same idea as the time limit grew closer. I'd managed to scout out a two-pointer and blew it up before others could get to it. My arms were feeling achy from pushing my quirk to its (admittedly weak) limits, but I still had one blast left in me.

While thinking of how best to use the remaining two minutes, the ground began to shake. "Huh?" A shadow fell over the battlefield as a massive robot covered the skyline. There I stood, baffled as the huge creature of metal steadily trudged towards the city center. The ground shook with every movement it made. This was the zero-pointer?! They built this massive thing- and for a distraction?!

Reasonably, everyone who saw that beast of a robot began running in the opposite direction. There was still time left in the exam after all, the test-makers clearly intended this as some sort of obstacle to be avoided, not a threat to be taken seriously. I should have ran the other way too. Even if the thing was worth a hundred points it'd be stupid to fight it. But there was something stopping me…

Among the crowds of people who'd run the other way to find more points, there was actually one person who'd stayed behind. They weren't injured or anything, and they looked perfectly capable of running like everyone else… and yet… They stood and faced the villain. "What are you doing…? You- uh, you do see the giant robot approaching you, right?" I asked the person. She was a girl, a few inches taller than me, with long orange hair tied into a ponytail.

"Huh? I'm going to fight it, obviously. Heroes don't run away from villains, do they?" She said it so simply, with such a reassuring smile that she somehow managed to make it seem like everyone who ran away were the idiots instead of her. "Plus, U.A. is the greatest hero academy in Japan. There's no way they wouldn't reward you for standing and fighting."

She was right; that was the exact kind of heroic nonsense this place would value. A hidden rule that rewards stupidity? It's almost too obvious. "Okay. Would you mind if I- uh, helped you?" Geez, could I sound any more stupid? It's like I was wearing a giant sign that showed how I was planning to steal her idea and profit from it.

The zero-pointer was rapidly approaching. "Of course!" She answered with the sort of kind and accepting smile that makes me want to crawl up and die.

With a deep sigh, I walked towards both her and the massive, looming robot. "Let's uh- I mean… Can I copy your quirk?" Ugh, so awkward. Who was I, Midoriya? I'd planned to ask for a high five or something and copy her quirk that way, but something about her stupidly kind and heroic attitude forced me to be honest. It definitely wasn't the fact that I was nervous to be talking to a pretty girl. What? That's dumb. I'm above that shit.

Her eyes widened before she grinned. "No problem, totally!" She happily held out her hand, not even questioning me. Awkwardly, I poked my slimey finger against her palm, copying her quirk. Alright, it's now or never; the zero-pointer was right in front of us now, and the orange-haired girl had already started running at it to attack. The tips of my fingers shifted to slime as I ran through my shelf of quirks, pulling the new one open and filling my mind with the details of… Big Hands.

She could make her fists big. It felt like there was a bit more to it, but my quirk only copied the part that made her hands big. The only reason I'd agreed to this was because I'd assumed she had a quirk like Bakugou. You know, the type of destruction that could reasonably take on a robot bigger than a goddamn house? But no, instead I was stuck with big hands. Fucking. Big. Hands.

A loud slam echoed across the empty city center as her fists slammed against the robot's legs. She'd actually managed to stagger the thing and dent the metal, but it wasn't long before it hit back. A metal arm swung down, with the girl only narrowly dodging out of the way before it slammed into the ground and spread cracks along the concrete. They wouldn't design robots that would actually kill us… right?

It was already gearing up to swing with the other arm and it was going to hit dead on. With the last of the slime I could create, I sent a slime grenade right at its upper arm, blasting the joint connecting it to the body. "Fuck you!!" I channeled my inner Bakugou and shouted at the emotionless robot. The explosion tore through its arm.

So the good news is: the arm fell off and landed right before the orange-haired girl, kicking up a cloud of dust and saving her. The bad news is: the robot is still very much capable of moving and is now stomping towards me. Even worse news: that was the last of the slime I could create, so I am basically defenseless.

She shouted something from the rubble, it sounded like 'thank you' but that might have just been my mind trying to make my final moments feel good. The robot was right in front of me and readied its remaining arm, preparing to slam it right down.

Was this how I went out? Taking a fucking test? No. I might not be able to create any more slime but I could still transform some of my arm into slime… If I…

Big hands.

An idea sparked in that fraction of a second, more out of a desperate urge for survival than out of anything heroic, and I moved my legs without thinking. Instead of running away from the incoming metal fist, I ran at it. My entire left hand and forearm transformed into slime and activated the big fist quirk. My slime fist grew at least four times in size, dripping slime as I swung it up to meet with the metal one. Obviously it'd just smash through my slimey arm, but…

For the first time in my life, while still maintaining the big fist quirk, I simultaneously opened up Bakugou's explosion quirk. It tore my focus and made my head feel like it was splitting in half. Hell, even in that split second, my control was slipping and the fist had begun shrinking, but it was all I needed.

With a wicked grin, my fist swung at the robot, connecting for that fleeting moment before… With the most satisfying punch of my life, I activated the ignition of the explosion quirk. Bakugou can already cause so much destruction with just his sweat, and here I was, transforming my entire arm into a similar substance and then deciding to go even further by multiplying the size of my hand, and in return, the size of the explosion.

For a second, all I saw was the light. Blinding and all-encompassing. The ground shook with the wild and untamed force as the flame and heat of the explosion filled the surrounding area. I regained my vision and watched as the shock from the explosion shattered the robot's arm, splintering the metal and riding up its arm until it made it to his head, finishing the massive beast off in a single, spectacular blaze. The vibrations from the blast shook the ground and the windows of a few of the faux buildings shattered. Seeing the mechanical titan fall and crash, I almost felt proud, seeing the ruination I'd caused. I chose to focus on this destruction caused by my quirk, because the alternative meant focusing on the fact that I was flying away from the explosion at an unhealthy speed and was currently slamming into a wall with enough force to crack the concrete.

I coughed up blood as my quirk desperately tried to keep up with the damage I'd just sustained. My ears were ringing like hell, my head was aching as if ten different migraines were happening at once… And- oh, yeah. My left arm was no longer a part of my body. That was new. My upper arm hung loosely, dripping slime as it tried to regrow the rest of itself while lacking the water and nutrients to do so. "Hah, not gonna pass now, am I?" Well- maybe almost killing yourself was actually a pretty good mark on your score for U.A. I don't know what kind of psychopath is in charge of this place but they probably made this exam just for moments like this.

In a surprising moment of clarity, my ears stopped ringing. The first sound they heard was the echo from the explosion, now a faint hum as the destruction faded into calm. The second sound they heard was a voice. "Are you okay?! Your arm…!" Ah, it was the orange-haired girl running towards me.

"I'm fine, my quirk can heal it." I said casually, despite the fact that I had no real proof my quirk could heal an injury this large.

The third sound I heard was a different voice. "ALRIGHT! THE EXAM IS NOW OVER!" Present Mic's booming voice echoed around us. That was it, then. Not like I could really fight much more in my current state. Twenty-one points and a missing arm. Not a great score, really.

The girl, who's name I really should have asked, was leaning by my slide, clearly worried. "Your quirk can heal that?" She asked incredulously, squinting her eyes and pointing at the gooey part of my remaining arm.

"Uh- maybe? It's fine. I'm fine." That sounded like a lie but it was probably true. Whether it's a result of my quirk or of the adrenaline, I wasn't feeling too much pain outside of the massive migraine. That was either a good sign or a really bad one. "Just need water."

"All right, is anybody injured?" An old woman was walking around the rubble. "Come here if you need attention."

"R-Recovery Girl? Over here!" The girl waved her arm and guided the woman, who was apparently known as Recovery Girl, over to where I was slumped against the wall.

"Oh, dearie… What happened here?" Her voice was completely calm despite the fact that I was literally missing a limb. I guess heroes see this sort of thing pretty often?

"Just need water." I was acting belligerent, I know. But I was sick of people looking at me with pity and fear. "My quirk has a regeneration aspect."

She groaned. "Fools with regeneration quirks all act the same. Let me tell you this now before your reckless heroism hurts you further." Tsk, heroism? I scoffed at that mention but she carried on, "Your quirk does not make you invincible. No healing comes without a side effect."

You think I don't know that? I've lived my entire life with this useless quirk. I know better than anyone that I'm not invincible. It doesn't take much more than looking down at where my arm once was to know that. "I'm aware of the side effects. Which is why I am saying I need water." I argued back.

"Stubborn kid." She sighed and pulled out a few bottles of water from her bag, as well as a handful of gummy's. "Drink that water and I'll use my quirk on you, understand? But learn to be more careful."

Following her instructions, albeit with the sharpest glare I could muster, the water was gone in seconds as I chewed the gummy's. She leaned in and activated her quirk. Almost immediately, the rate of my slime regrowing increased exponentially. The slime grew back into the shape of an arm in just a few seconds. "What the…"

"My quirk normally can not regrow limbs, but since your quirk's regeneration allows for it, it worked out alright. This would not be possible if you had any other quirk, so be more careful in the future." She scowled at me, the look of a disappointed parent.

"Hah, whatever." My eyes felt heavy and my body started to waver as I stood up.

"Ah, as a result of increasing your natural healing, it does take quite a lot of energy to function." She smiled. "Will you be alright heading home?"

I yawned and turned away. "I'll nap on the train." Sluggishly, I moved away from the testing zone. God knows I didn't want to spend another second at the school if I could help it.

The train ride home, I did indeed nap. Wracked with the guilt that in the moment of her aid, I had copied Recovery Girls quirk. It only worked on others, anyway. A useless quirk for a loner like me. So instead of regretting what I'd done, I fell asleep.

~~~~~~~

The next week passed by in a difficult to remember blur. Actually, I was pretty thankful for how lonely I was. Hawks had done his visit for the week, telling me some encouragement about how I was 'totally gonna pass' but I wasn't a strong believer of his words. The rest of the week was a whole lot of nothing and waiting for the U.A. Rejection Letter to arrive at my doorstep. The only constant in my life had been exercising. Even though I knew I'd likely fail the exam, it was hard to break nearly eleven months of habits, and I found myself still sticking with Hawks' exercise plans and drinking the shitty protein shakes. Maybe it was because I hated myself, but I couldn't give it up.

So when the letter finally did come, I was happy to set aside all exercise plans and get ready to be rejected and move on. It was a Friday. The end of the week and after my walk home, I saw a letter right on my doorstep. "So they finally sent it…"

I wanted to rip the thing in half but I had better sense than that. Taking it to my room, I sat it down, sighed, and carefully unfolded it.

Once it was open, a few sheets of paper slid out, as well as a small metal disk, which slid onto my desk. "Huh…?"

In an instant, a screen of light lit up my room. "I AM HERE! As a prerecorded holographic video!!" What the hell, did they hire All Might to record this? He was doing a cheesy pose and everything. U.A. really went above and beyond, even in their rejection letters. "Nazumi Hasui! Your score on the written exam was a pass, although you did cut it close on the math section, haha! Despite this, your practical score of only twenty-one villain points was not enough to pass the exam…" Of course it wasn't. Did they make him record this for everyone they rejected? I sure hoped they paid him well for it.

"And if those points were all we were tracking, then you wouldn't be receiving this letter!!" What. "RESCUE POINTS!!! What sort of hero school would we be if we refused to acknowledge and reward heroic deeds being performed!" Ah. Wait- no, this couldn't be happening. This was… Ugh, heroic nonsense. "Although early in the exam, you did defeat a three-pointer being attacked by another examinee, you still stood up and defeated the zero-pointer, saving your fellow examinee in the process, despite the risk you took on yourself! A great sign of heroic courage." His prerecorded form grinned at me. No- I was just trying to copy her idea and get points- It wasn't supposed to actually work… Did they not see how little I deserved to pass this thing? He even said they saw how I was willing to steal that boy with a headband's points.

"Your refusal to back down for the sake of others, as well as your final attack, all but cleared any doubts we may have had about your character! I am glad to see that the incident ten months ago did not damage your desire for heroics!" Hearing him say that told me that they knew of my father's villainous history and were only letting me into the hero course because I seemed thoroughly stupid and heroic. "You were awarded twenty rescue points! Nazumi Hasui, you have PASSED!!! U.A. welcomes you to your new semester at the number one school for heroics in the country! Taught by experienced pro-heroes, you will learn from the best on how to become a true hero, and go beyond your limits! Plus Ultra! And this year, your heroics course will be taught by none other than… ME!!! I, All Might, will be teaching you starting your new semester! I look forward to seeing you at the start of the school year!" With that, the recording blipped out and left me in the darkness of the room.

All Might, one of the only heroes I actually cared enough to recognize- was going to be teaching me? The number one hero. As well as the man who arrested my father. This whole situation felt like a dream- or more accurately, a nightmare. "I actually… passed?" I felt sick to my stomach with guilt, but as I reached up and rubbed my eyes, I felt tears.

"God… Stupid, dumb, heroic nonsense…" I choked back a sob as I cried. All the emotions of these past ten months of training, all coming to a head in this moment. I passed. I had actually passed the U.A. entrance exam. And as I was crying at my desk, I definitely wasn't smiling.
 
Back
Top