here we are

prologue

"If I had to think back on the day my life changed for the better, it would be this day."

"This random shitty day."

The summer sun beat down from a clear blue sky, making the air feel hot and dry. The warmth was constant, with only the occasional light breeze providing brief moments of relief.

If you tried to count the times you'd cried just thinking about applying to the hero course, people might believe you made it a routine. After finishing your one-on-one interview, your eyes were clouded with tears as you hurried into a quiet, empty classroom, desperate for some peace. The summer heat still clung to you, making the room feel even more suffocating. As you stumbled in, your hopes for privacy were quickly short-lived when you saw that the room wasn't empty after all.

"Out of curiosity, is there a specific reason you're crying?"

You squealed. You tried opening your eyes but couldn't—too embarrassed as there was someone in the room. All you could make out was a figure not too much taller than you.

"I... I thought the room was empty," you stammered.

"Nope, not empty," his voice was raspy and deep. "I just thought no one would be in here."

"Oh um, sorry. I'll leave if you want."

"Nah, you're good."

"Are you okay?" he asked, coming closer. He sounded tall.

"Sure, why do you ask?" you said."Because you're crying.""Well, I sort of am, but they're just tears, you know?""No, I don't actually.""I'm just nervous. It's a nervous habit.""Oh, you're nervous. What for?"

"Just the test, you know. Have we met before? Maybe last night at the entrance party?"

"My name's YN." You stuck out your hand to shake his. You were starting to wonder whether you'd just introduced yourself to the desk when you heard him step closer. The hand that closed around yours was dry, warm, and so large it could have enveloped your whole fist.

"No."

"You weren't there," you said."Not my scene.""But the free food?""Not worth the small talk.""Are you interviewing for a spot in the hero course?""Yup. I'll probably end up in the support course though. What about you?""I'm going for Class 1A," he replies."What if you get an offer for the hero course?" he questioned."Ha, that's funny. But I think I might not even get an offer, even for the support course, nonetheless the hero course.""I mean, what if you do? Would you enroll if you get an offer?""I'd be stupid not to," you said."I... maybe. I must say, the line between being a great hero and a critical life screwup is getting a bit blurry.""Seems like you're leaning toward screwup," he sounded like he was smiling."No. Well... I just...""You just?"

You bit your lip. "What if I'm not good enough?" you blurted out. God, you wondered why you admitted your deepest fears to a stranger. Every time you aired out your doubts to friends and acquaintances, they all automatically offered the same overused, meaningless encouragements. You'll be fine. You can do it. I believe in you. This guy was surely going to do the same.

Coming up..."Why do you want to do it?""Uh?""Do... what?""Become a hero. What's your reason?"

You cleared your throat, ready to say the line you practiced and rehearsed in the interview. "Well, for as long as I was a kid, I've always had an amazing quirk, and I believe that UA will sharpen my mind and help grow my quirk—"

He snorted. You frowned."What?""Not the line you found in an interview prep book. Why do you want to go to the hero course?""Is it because you don't know what else to do?""No.""Because you think going here is going to make you famous?""No—I don't even like the spotlight.""Ah.""I have a dream to accomplish here."

"You know that getting into U.A., regardless, is ludicrous and competitive and takes a lot of motivation here and even outside of school."

"Are you trying to get me to decline my offer? Is this because you think I'm not strong enough because I came in here sobbing?"

"Nah," you could hear his smile. "I'll go ahead and trust that it was just a misstep."

"This was a one-time thing. It never happens around people—""In a long line of missteps, clearly."

"Here's the deal: I have no idea if you're good enough, but that's not what you should be asking yourself. Being a hero is a lot of bucks for very little bang. What matters is whether your reason to be a hero is good enough. So why UA, YN?"

"I have a mission. A specific mission. Something that I want to find out.""There. Done. This was the answer.""Something I'm afraid no one else will accomplish if I don't.""A mission?""Yes." Your mouth felt dry. "Something important to me. And—I don't trust anyone else to do it. 

Because. Because..."

Because something bad happened all the time. Because I want to do my part so that I can help those that need it. Heavy thoughts to have in the presence of a stranger, in the darkness of her closed eyelids. So she cracked them open; her vision was still blurry, but the burning was mostly gone. The guy was looking at her. Fuzzy around the edges, perhaps, but so very there, waiting patiently for her to continue.

"It's important to me," YN was 15 and alone. She didn't want weekends, or easy school days. She wanted to go back in time. She wanted to be less lonely. But since that was impossible, she'd settle for fixing what she could.

"Is mine a good enough reason to become a hero?" you called after him, hating how eager for approval you sounded. You might have been in the midst of some sort of existential crisis.

He paused and looked back at her. "It's the best one." He was smiling, she thought. Or something like it. "Good luck with your interview, YN."

"Thanks." He was almost out the door already.

"Maybe I'll see you next year," she babbled, flushing a little. "If I get in. And if we're in the same class."

"Maybe," you heard him say.With that, the guy was gone. And you never got his name. But a few weeks later, when UA extended her an offer, you accepted it. Without hesitating, hoping to see him again.