My Hero Academia - Outcasts

Chapter Eight - What Kind of Hero

Steam wafted through the halls of 2-A's dorm house, but not from where you would expect. Instead of someone trying to push the length of U.A.'s water bill with the showers, it stemmed from the kitchen area, particularly the sink. The steam was followed by the sound of running water. It turned off periodically, paired with the sound of someone cursing as they stepped to the side only to run the faucet again, fogging the air each time. This went on for a few minutes. Though to the woman in question, it felt like hours.

"God damn it.." Hisakawa sighed, touching a meat thermometer to the palm of her hands as she reached to turn the sink back on. The thermometer bobbed between its highest temperature and room temperature when she set it down, placing both hands under the cold running water. She hunched over the counter, closing both eyes as she felt the cool water turn into puffs of air as soon as it hit her fingertips.

"Why won't my temperature go down?" she asked the wall in front of her, slamming the faucet handle off and covering her face with her hands. Despite having been soaked in water, her arms were completely dry. Her sleeves slowly fell back onto her palms as she picked up the thermometer again, watching it pang as it hit 75 C. She dropped it on the floor, turning on her heel to walk towards the fridge. Opening the freezer, she stuck both hands inside, leaning her forehead on the side of the door.

I didn't use my quirk that much, right? She thought, absentmindedly knocking over a pint of ice cream labeled with one of her student's names. Some hero I am.. It hasn't been this bad since Kamino..

She spent at least 10 minutes in that state until she straightened herself, taking her arms out of the freezer and waving them to break the frost off her knuckles. She saw the ice as a good sign, hopeful as she picked up the thermometer off the floor. Her heart sunk as it hit 75 again. She snapped it in half with her left hand, piercing the broken metal into the trash can. It left a large hole in the side of the plastic bin. Steam erupted from her fist as she did so, slowly dissipating when she took in a deep breath.

Keep it together Yuriko.. She repeated to herself, brushing her hair away from her eyes. She cupped both her cheeks with her hands, pushing upward to scrunch her face together before pulling back to relax it. The feverish feeling in her brain kept her from concentrating for long. There was only one thought inside her head apart from the repetition of 'keep it together'. But she disregarded the thought each time, shaking her head physically as if someone was speaking to her.

He's only going to get worried. He being All Might, who would know why Hisakawa was having these side effects. But between getting over it herself and telling him, she would always choose the former. The last thing she wanted Toshinori to see was her reaction to her own quirk trying to boil her alive. He would panic, or worse, try to get her to stop using it. But in reality, what was causing this backlash in the first place was the lack of use itself.

So Hisakawa returned to the freezer, this time sticking her head inside. She fit what she could of her torso into the box, knocking over frozen meals and ice cubes in the process. She rested her forehead on a bag of frozen strawberries, her glasses pushed upward off her eyes. She blindly stared at the ingredients list, trying to make out letters in order to distract herself from the amount of time she sat stuck in the ice box. Every exhale would send the freezer into a frenzy as it desperately tried to return to a normal temperature.

Hisakawa wondered if this was enough of a reason to wake up Mukono Asami. Maybe her ice armor would be enough to knock some sense into the Teapot side of Yuriko's quirk.

"Uhm.. Miss?" A voice asked, sending a shock through Hisakawa's spine. She slammed her head on the ceiling of the freezer, stumbling out of it and nearly flipping the entire fridge in the process. She held her stance weakly, clutching the counter before closing both doors and adjusting her glasses. A wide, but fake, smile was etched on her face as to ease the student in front of her, of whom wasn't convinced.