𝙒𝙊𝙍𝙆 𝙁𝙊𝙍 𝙄𝙏 | ᴋ. ʙᴀᴋᴜɢᴏ

001| 𝘼 𝙈𝙄𝙎𝙏𝘼𝙆𝙀

You blinked, once, twice, at the billboard chart. Eventually, your shoulders slumped in defeat as you gave up even trying to understand what was going on. And the panicked whispering and confusion in the arena wasn't helping.

"You have got to be kidding me." You groaned.

Why the hell was your picture on the screen?? And what the hell was the Number 0 Hero anyway? Was it a new thing that just got added this year? Why were you the one to get it then? None of this made sense.

Well, you thought, no one's noticed that I'm sitting here yet, so I can probably just blend in and wait for them to move on to the speeches.

That plan sounded good to you, and you were just in the middle of acting it out when a voice spoke up.

"Are you going to keep staring with your mouth wide open, or are you going to get off your ass and go up there?"

You turned to the old hero sitting on your left. "Do I have to?" You whined.

"Well, kid, you dragged me here, the least you could do is make it worthwhile." Gran Torino said.

You did not feel like standing in front of the entire stadium of people just so you could be stared at like a piece of art, critiqued, and judged until they could figure out exactly what they were staring at. It may have sounded dramatized, but that's what they would do. The press was already on your back due to the lack of knowledge about your hero name and quirk, this would be the cherry on top of the sundae of "No, thank you."

Gran Torino just stared at you. Though his words made it seem like he was giving you a choice. You could practically hear the parental "Do what I say or else." look staring right into your soul.

With a groan you slouched farther into your chair. Wishing, trying, to disappear from his already decided command. It didn't work.

With much protest, and grumbling, you got up from your chair and headed towards the red carpet. Stepping, and hopping over people's feet, you managed to get there without tripping.

The second your steel-toed black boots met red, every nearby person's head snapped in your direction.

You sweat dropped. Shit, you had been spotted.

The twenty or so, people that had spotted you stared with unwavering eyes, gasps and whispers left them that spread like wildfire.

"It's her!" You heard someone shout.

Your hero costume, as simple as it was. Was very recognizable. You wore a fitted black turtle neck top that ended an inch under your breast like a sports bra. A light breathable easy to move in black jacket that stopped just at your pants. With a hood that covered your face, by casting a dark shadow. Your pants were also black, the way they fit reminded you of cargo pants, loose for movement with lots of pockets. Your outfit was topped off with a pair of black steeled toe boots, and a skin tight mask that covered your eyes. The mask wasn't necessary because no one could see it anyway, but it was an extra layer of protection just in case.

With a costume like yours it was obvious why everyone had thought you were a vigilante after your debut.

You grimaced a smile at their stares, your hand barely going up for a small wave before you sharply turned away. The good news was that the entire arena hadn't spotted you yet. You still had time to mentally prepare.

As you slowly walked down the aisle, trying to prolong the inevitable more and more heads turned in your direction. The stadium was filled with questions all of them leading back to you. The news cameras facing the stage were now turned on you, watching your every move. Before long you'd almost made it to the end of the carpet, the top ten heroes and the announcement lady spotting you.