To Overthrow The Stars

Prologue p.3

Warning: mentions of blood, stalker behavior, light cursing.

1400 words.

UGH Papa Roach is just so gosh dang amazing! This song made me cry first time I heard it. 100,000/10 👌👌👌👌👌👌

☆*: .｡. ---✧--- .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡. ---✧--- .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡. ---✧--- .｡.:*☆

"I'd like for you to try out for the Hero Course as well, if that is alright with you Ms. Hinako." A small white mouse the lady on the phone named 'Principal Nezu' states, leaning forward to pour us both some tea, "After what you have described of your quirk, I am confident that you would be an amazing hero student."

"I thank you, Nezu-sama, but my mother- Mrs. Hinako- would never allow me the opportunity." I sigh, accepting the teacup and taking a sip before continuing, "May I confide something in you, Nezu-sama?" He nods his small, white, furry head, so I finish my original thought, "My mother told me once that no matter where I went, she'd follow me and allow me a place to live. It sounds loving in a way, but with the way she controls every aspect of my life, I have a feeling she said that as if to say I would never leave her control..." My heart clenches in my chest, giving me a heavy, dreadful feeling, "She's manipulative and controlling, sir, she wouldn't allow me to leave her so easily. At least with the Support Course I have a chance at going to U.A. and still live up to my mother's wishes. She's quirkless, but I fear she has the potential to permanently harm me if she knows I want to become a Pro Hero." I rub the back of my head sheepishly and try to chuckle, but I sound empty as I do so, "Sorry, I'm rambling, you just felt like someone I could talk to. You have a good energy, Nezu-sama."

He sips his tea, probably considering my rambling of the bad energy in my home, "I see, Ms. Hinako, you are in quite the pickle. It seems awful, what you go through. I assume mental abuse is quite common, although not many share their experience of it, and I'm glad you came to me with this issue." I take a large gulp of my tea, savoring the sweetness of it rather than the bitterness of my memories, "Come take the entrance exam for the Hero Course, leave your situation to me."

"Thank you, sir." I bow my head, "I won't disappoint you."

"Good." He smiles, mouse face contorting to fit the shape of his grin, "Now enjoy your tea, we wouldn't want to waste it, would we?"

"Of course not!" I chuckle lightheartedly, the sound surprisingly fruitful, "I am a fan of tea myself, which one is this?"

"Only the best!"

We continue our conversation for a while longer until I excuse myself to leave. I have to start training right away, and I know a perfect spot that needs quite the cleanup. I send a text to Kurogiri, who I've named 'Mist Brain' in my phone and tell him that I'll have to cancel my training until after the U.A. entrance exam. He asks why, and I give a brief explanation of my training regimen idea, to which he responds with a thumbs up emoji and tells me he'll inform All for One.

I leave the school with a skip in my step and curiosity on my mind, heading for the beach I call my sanctuary. It comes into view in the distance and although the trash is suffocating the sand, I feel at ease near the infested waters. Speaking of water, raindrops begin to fall from the sky. First a light drizzle becomes a torrent of droplets and my phone pings like crazy from the news apps on my phone. I turn on silent notifications and make my way through the downpour to the mouth of the beach, slipping off my shoes to walk the sand barefoot, leaving my things underneath the hood of an oven where I know it will be safe.

I crack my knuckles and roll my shoulders, "Time to oversee my own torture." I mumble, proud smile stretching across my face. I go back to my bag briefly and text my mom that I'll be home late because of a thing- a normal teenager thing, not anything hero-esc- then activate my quirk. My eyes sting and my veins flare to life with the fire of Karma, pupils dilating to take in less light when I catch my glowing eyes on a surprisingly shiny refrigerator. I observe the bright green glow emanating from my irises, my pupils turning white and growing from the small black pupils they once were.

I grimace at my reflection and use my quirk to crush the refrigerator into a molten metal cube, setting it as the start of a pile that will soon get thrown away... into my pile of scraps for inventions. I condense a good twenty items before my left hand begins to bleed from underneath the scar on my palm; this lets me know that I'm overusing my quirk, either in force, speed, or amount. I chalk it up to force because my eyes aren't bleeding yet and the blood isn't glowing when it drips into a puddle of blood on the sand.

I curl my left hand into a fist and suck in a sharp breath as my nails graze the inflamed tissue, "Damn." I make a grabbing motion with my hand and my fingers visibly start to swell, "Better take a break." I go over and take my bag and shoes from their hiding spot with my right hand, then scan the vicinity for a cafe I know is nearby.

Bingo! I catch a glimpse of the dusty pink sign and start walking in that direction, making sure I don't drip too much blood onto the concrete and asphalt as I deactivate my quirk. The pile of scrap I created now weighs down my backpack, pulling my weight to one side and making me waddle. I push open the door to be assaulted by the faint smell of incents and the feeling of being in a jungle of potted plants. Just like I remember. I sigh with content.

"Welcome!" The young lady at the counter waves enthusiastically, I hold my left hand as blood seeps through the cracks between my fingers. I would've waved back, if I had a hand available to, "Oh my goodness! You're bleeding!" She rushes to a shelf behind her post at the counter as I walk up and hands a washrag over the register at me, "Here!"

"Uh, thanks?" I mumble, taking the washrag and wrapping my hand with it, "Don't worry too much, it's just a quirk side-effect..." I look at the small menu on the wall behind the lady and squint to see it better, having forgotten my glasses at home today, "I'll get a blueberry muffin and hot chai tea... five sugar cubes, please." I smile warmly.

The lady looks at me in shock, probably not used to quirk downsides ending in nearly bleeding onto the beautiful white brick floors and pale pink circular carpets, then sends the order through the register, "803 yen, please." (5$)

I hand her a 1000 yen slip and she hands me some change in return, letting me know I can sit wherever I'd like. I thank her and find a seat near the window in an old-fashioned type diner booth. In this cafe, I notice people who've never met before sitting down at the same table as each other, the calming music radiating through the air giving off a vibe of safety and security.

The bell jingles as the door is opened on the side of the store that I'm sitting looking towards, and a boy- I'd say around my age or older- enters the cafe, his feathered black bird head a definite attraction for attention as he walks to the till. He wears a dark purple hoodie with the designs of a band I absolutely love in gray and black jeans with a red necklace.

He walks past me after ordering and sits down in the booth across from mine, at the same exact table I'm sitting at. He nods to me and I do the same in return, a show of mutual respect for each other's space being that we now share a table, and I pull a book from my bag to read. I can feel his crimson eyes staring down at the blood-stained rag holding my scar to my hand, but he doesn't bring it up and looks down at his phone.

I sigh in relief and begin where I left off in my book.