Ghost - an MHA fanfiction

I can be a hero, too

I don't know why, but as I leave Deku and Kirishima behind, I start to feel uneasy. Being in the shadow of the head of the Heroes Public Safety Commission makes my skin crawl and my heart go wild. I've seen him on TV a few times, and I know for a fact he is one: intimidating and two: strict. If he wants to talk to me then it will be about me breaking some kind of unknown law.

Probably something to do with provisional licences blah-de-blah, so on and so forth.

We don't make conversation as we walk. The silence is like a weighted blanket over us, blocking us from the outside world in a way not too unlike my own quirk. People nod to both of us as we pass by. They must think I'm his assistant or something, seeing as I have been provided with a new work outfit exactly the same as my old one, stilettos and all. I wish they hadn't included that bit.

How did they even know?

Maybe I should mention the black market during the little 'talk' I'm about to have. I'm sure it would be crucial information.

Or maybe they know about that too.

We reach a small office at the end of the hall, and he gestures for me to step inside. The room is well-lit and warm. I have no idea why there is a huge office in the middle of a hospital, but I don't question it when I see the plush armchair and the table laden with fine foods that I could never dream of affording. There are pitchers filled with juice, milk and water, and five boxes with different flavours of tea.

It's more food than I've had in my pantry for the past two weeks. The sight of it makes my mouth water. I do have enough money to occasionally spoil myself with tooth-rotting sweets like animal crackers and mochi, but those are for the weeks when I've already paid my rent, bought groceries and sent a 30,000 yen chunk of my allowance to Sakura in Shinjuku to pay for her treatments.

She always tells me not to. She says that I'd be so much better off if I just spent all that money on myself.

But I can't.

Even Mother and Father, who spoiled her rotten when we were younger, have refused to help at all, saying that if she'd been less reckless with her dreams and actually chased a 'proper career', she'd have enough money to get out of hospital by herself. They claim that it's not their problem.

It makes me want to throttle them. It's not like they can hate me more than they already do. Their disappointment, cursed to trail in their blinding wake for all eternity, even in the grave, when our only companions are each other and the dirt.

"Miss Akiyami?"

I am jolted back to my senses by a gruff voice beside me.

"My apologies, sir," I murmur.

He dips his head in acknowledgement and gestures to the very soft-looking armchair by the desk. "That is quite alright. I understand you must still be in shock from what happened. No one expected you to get over this quickly."

"Actually, I'm fine," I tell him, taking a seat. "I wanted to be a hero when I was younger, so it was actually a bit of a thrill for me." I force a laugh through my weak lips. "My life is pretty boring otherwise."

The truth.

The Head of the Safety Commission regards me silently for a minute, taking a seat directly opposite from me. "And why aren't you a hero, Miss Akiyami."

Our gazes lock, and for a moment I see the fierce determination underneath his polite gaze. Sotoshi Makoto, I think his name is.

"Because I failed," I whisper. "My parents are widely-renowned business persons, as you probably already know, and they said that if I wanted to be a hero, my only option was U.A. and they wouldn't accept anything less for their daughter." I sigh and chuckled darkly. "But I failed them. I was number 41. One spot. One spot off being accepted. For a while I hoped someone would drop out, but they never did."