Eyes are windows to the soul

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The UA training uniform is tight

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The UA training uniform is tight. Nao noticed this the first time she wore it, and she notice it this time aswell. The bandaids and bandages on her back, shoulders and arms are itching, sitting wrong on her cold, cold body. The uniform - Blue with white stripes, simple Nao thinks, Michan might have liked it - The uniform is pressing on them, and Nao knows that if she moves to much, the seals on her rifts would rip away. So she doesn't move - Sit like the marble statue she is, and observe the students.

Todoroki march forward - With his carefully chosen stoic expression, with those cold eyes. Yet Nao sees that, yes, his eyes are terrible cold, but they aren't frozen. They aren't lost. She once overhead her parents talk about his father; Endeavor is a villain in hero clothes. (Nao wants to pray for the boy, she really does, but the gods don't listen to prayers. If they did Michan would've been something more, more then a destined child with a to frail body)

Todoroki is an observant boy, he had to become just that. -

( A quick memory of hot, hot flames. The aching in his muscles, combined with the purple blooming on his skin. A masterpiece. Pained and painted. He is a masterpiece. Created for one purpose, and one purpose only - But what if he can't? - Doesn't matter. He have to. Become the best, become the masterpiece you were made to be. Those weren't just words, they were rules. Follow them, that had his father made sure of. Such memories are meant to be forgotten. They are meant to be made, and then never seen again. His father says so. And when father talks, everyone else listen and do what he says. )

- Maybe that's why he had noticed something with the girl. The girl with the pale skin, almost transparent, like a ghost. Dark, dark hair, cascading down her shoulders, like shadows. And her eyes;

They say; eyes are the windows to the soul.

Her eyes are hollow, more then the ones staring back at him every morning in the mirror. They looked wrong. Wrong like Fuyumi's, after dinner. When she sits in the chair in the living room, with those eyes, hollow, hollow, wrong eyes and a red and blue cheek.

So if eyes are that empty, is there a soul at all.

"GO"

Present mics voice is loud, to loud. It echo inside of Naos head, and she wonders if her thoughts are getting all jumbled up. She thinks they are, since she completely stops for a minute. A minute is all it takes, and when she looks down her feet's are frozen to the ground. It feels nice. It matches with her cold, cold body. It looks nice aswell. The way the ice-crystals cover the soles of her feet's, and even peek up on her ankles. They shine, and glitter in the sun. Michan would have liked them;

—Michan once told Nao about snow. How it covers anything, like a soft white blanket. How tall mountains have snow on top, even if the mountains are in warm countries. How much she wished to see snow. Build a snowman, make a snow angel, play a snowball fight. Nao had agreed, told a Michan how much she wished that aswell. What Nao didn't tell Michan was, that Nao had already seen snow, and Michan would never get the chance. Michan is sick, weak. Snow was harsh, cold. Some things shouldn't mix.—

Nao shakes her head to get rid of her thoughts - Always about Michan. Michan. Nao wonders what would be left of her, if Michan died? Such thoughts wasn't meant to be thought, so she dismiss them as soon as they cross her mind. - she sends a heatwave down to her feet's, because she have promised to advance to second round(nothing less, nothing more), and starts running.

The rest of the obstacle course is a daze. She vividly remembers; Narrowing through the smashed robots, balancing over the tightropes, coordinating through the bomb field. (Nao question herself, if this was how it felt playing at a playground as a child. She doesn't get an answer to that. )

___

4 hours later, the festival is done. Nao's feet hurt, and her body is burning, yet cold. He rifts are ripped open, and the blood starts seeping though the gazes which hold her body together; Why even bother cleaning the blood away, Ma and Pa likes her best in red anyways.

(Nao agree. Red is a pretty color. It is pretty when it's slowly tickling down her back, dripping onto the floor, coloring her marble skin. It's so very pretty, when the water in the tub, turns pink, then red and then blood. But it's ugly, it's so incredibly ugly, when it's tickling down Michans back. When it's on the cleaning wipes Nao holds to Michans rifts. When Michan coughs in her hand, and the hand then is colored red. Then Nao thinks that red must be the ugliest color she have ever seen.)

Bakugo won the first place, on the  Nao dropped out in the second phase. Everything went exactly as planned. Shigaraki must be overjoyed.

_________

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⏰ Last updated: Jun 08, 2022 ⏰

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𝐴𝑙𝑎𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑡 {  𝐻𝑎𝑙𝑓 𝑑𝑒𝑎𝑑, 𝐸𝑥ℎ𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑑  } 𝐵𝐻𝑁𝐴 Where stories live. Discover now