when y/n was young, she had been born into a family of renowned devil hunters. unlike most, she lived in a tribe, not a city. she didn't go to school, but instead studied under the tribes monks. from the moment she could walk she was conditioned to...
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❞⁀➷♡'ˎ˗ "he's not even running."
"what about the entrance ceremony? the orientation?" uraraka asks, looking a bit concerned from beside you. aizawa is in front of the class, and you and uraraka are standing in the front of the group right behind him. "if you're going to become a hero you don't have time for such leisurely events." he says firmly, uraraka shifts nervously. "U.A.'s selling point is how unrestricted its school traditions are." he turns his head to look at her over his shoulder. "that's also how the teachers run their classes. we aren't tethered to tradition, so i can essentially instruct you as i see fit."
there's a brief and sort of awkward pause as he turns around to face the class partially, standing slumped with his hands tucked in his pockets. "you kids have been doing these since junior high, too, right? physical fitness tests where you weren't allowed to use your quirks." he holds up a device with a list of scores for a test you've never seen in your life. "the country still uses averages taken from results from students not using their quirks. it's not rational. well, the ministry of education is procrastinating." he takes a step back before turning his attention to the angry blonde. "bakugo, you finished at the top of the practical exam, right?" he makes a sound of acknowledgement and the class turns their attention to him. you examine the look on his face.
he looks like an idiot making that face.
lights are on, no ones home.
"in junior high, what was your best result for the softball throw?" aizawa asks, and the boy replies surprisingly quickly for someone who seemed to have been listening closer to the sound of the wind than his teachers voice. "67 meters." he replies blandly. "then, try doing it with your quirk." aizawa instructs. the blondie walks up to the circle etched into the ground with white paint. "you can do whatever you want as long as you stay in the circle. hurry up. give it all you've got." aizawa says, watching boredly. the rest of the class keeps their attention on bakugo while he stretches his arms and scans over the class. you take a look at your hand instead, examining your nails to see if there's any dirt you should scrape out. "tch. then, well..." he stretches a final time before reeling his arm back in a pitchers form, winding back fully and throwing the ball. "die...!" he shouts, and the ball flies into the sky piercing a few clouds with a large plume of smoke created by explosions. your brows raise a bit.
that's sort of cool.
"die...?" the green haired boy repeats from the other side of you, and you laugh quietly. this blonde kid was a total edge lord.
"know your own maximum first." aizawa says, and you can faintly see the ball beginning to fall in the distance. "that is the most rational way to form the foundation of a hero." he turns the device that recorded the distance of the throw. 705.2m. that's not bad. you think, scratching your cheek. sora could do better. "750 meters, seriously?" a familiar voice says, and you turn your head to look at him. "it says 705, kaminari." you correct, and he looks at you in slight surprise. "wait... really? also, hi y/n." you give him a wave in return as mina claps her hands. "what's this? it looks fun!" she says, smiling excitedly. "we can use our quirks as much as we want! as expected from the hero course!" a boy with odd elbows says.
