The Wise Child (BNHA x OC)

31. Blind

Disappointing. That was all I could think about during the first day of my internship. Uwabami had no care for teaching us anything aside from modeling. Presenting us to the public like a prized first course at a restaurant, waiting for the news to grasp onto us with their hooks and tear us apart.

I felt my fists curl as she took us to the second photoshoot of the day. She presented herself with a purple gown that accentuated her curves, her curls clearly self made, and her eyes eating at the three of us. Apparently Momo and I weren't the only ones she decided to take under her wing. A girl from class 1b stood next to us. She seemed nice enough, but it seemed the other two didn't feel the same rage I had. She had made us look like ignorant fools.

Uwabami turned to a man with obviously dyed blonde hair who seemed to look at us like a cat would a mouse.

"You chose well, Serpenta! These young ladies are perfect for your brand! I'm loving the contrast between these two!" He said, pointing his fingers between me and Momo. "Yes, we'll have to get them in matching outfits."

I slowly straightened myself, feeling my temper lash out, even as I tried to bite it back, "This isn't hero work." My voice was even, but I couldn't help the glare I allowed to fall through.

Uwabami smiled, completely undeterred, "You'll change your mind once they show you the outfits we're modeling. This is a top brand you know, you'll make a name for yourself before you've entered adulthood. Not many can say that."

'I don't need a name for myself.' I thought, resisting the urge to roll my eyes.

"Uwabami! We need you on set!" a woman called from behind a camera, barely chancing a glance away from the lens.

"Alright girls, make sure to keep those chins up, they'll get your makeup on soon!"

"Right this way," a tall man with ugly eyes said, ushering us towards a line of mirrors.

I hesitantly took my place next to Momo, glaring at the man through the reflection. I felt warm hands wrap around my own and I turned to see Momo giving a tight lipped smile.

"I'm sure she has some sort of plan behind this. All press is good press, right?"

I forced myself to return her smile.

"You're probably right."

The man came back and got to examining us, accompanied by the blonde in charge of clothing.

"We'll start with you," he said, motioning to Momo. "Your hair is beautiful, what shampoo do you use?"

"Um, pureology?" she answered more like a question. He hummed dismissively in response. "Yes, very good, top of the line. Outfit two will work well with your complexion."

"Her complexion maybe but this double chin is a problem," The tall man replied, leaning down behind her and moving his hand around her jawline. My eyes caught on the way Momo's eyes moved to look downwards as she moved her chin out more and crossed her arms over her stomach. "And there is some texture on her cheeks, but that can be photoshopped out."

"You're blind." The words slipped out of my mouth before I could think to stop them. But it felt so nice to say them.

The two men exchanged looks before the tall one scoffed and stood up. "Thank you for your input, sixteen year old who clearly hasn't seen a curly hair product in her life. I'll make sure to call you next time you beat some block up and tell you to fix your right hook."

I glared at him but bit my tongue. He rolled his eyes and whispered something to the blonde before getting up and leaving.

I turned to look at Momo. Her eyes remained on her chin and I couldn't help but spit out, "Those men would rather strip every girl's beauty away just so they'll be 'attractive'. It's sick."

The blonde coughed, "We're not all like that. I'm sorry for him, he's blunt."

I rolled my eyes. "Don't let him touch Momo's face again."

"He's the makeup artist, hun, I don't have much of a choice."

"But-"

"Yae, it's fine, I don't mind." Momo said, placing her hand over mine. Her eyes looked unreadable, and her lips formed a soft smile. I bit back my anger and sighed, looking towards the ground.

"If you insist."

***

It was windy. Very windy, as if the cold were biting at the restraints of warm weather. But for some reason Uwabami was completely undisturbed by it, grinning at the crowd of people asking for her attention. We were supposed to be doing patrol, but clearly her fan club got hold of her schedule and wouldn't let us do our jobs. I stood impatiently watching as the woman who was supposed to be mentoring me began posing for photos with a group of young teens. They squealed, spitting compliments at how 'photogenic' she was, I'd have to google the word later.

"What products do you use for your hair?" one of the boys asked. "It's so shiny."

"Shu Uemera is a great starter! It adds that shine just right!"

"I see you all over their ads! It's really amazing if it works that well on you!"

God. This was far from hero work. It was disgusting how she had just sweeped us up and dressed us like dolls for the public.

I turned away, huffing quietly to myself when I caught the sight of a knife stuck to a brick wall not too far from us.

It was strange, and I doubted any normal knife would be strong enough to do that. I looked back to tell Uwabami, but I doubted she'd even notice if I said anything. Instead I stepped away, finding it unfortunate that Uwabami had insisted on taking me alone for the patrol. It would have been nice to have Momo for backup.

But, of course, I couldn't let cowardice interfere.

I stepped into the alley, surveying the surroundings only to find no one there. Carefully I examined the knife, careful not to touch it and contaminate evidence. There was blood stained at the tip. But the material was strange. The blade had one silver side, but the other looked almost like skin.

A whirl sounded in my ear and I turned around to be met with the sight of a man with a face mask and sunglasses, holding a knife identical to the last, frowning and with his brows crinkled in uncertainty before he lunged forwards. He quickly pushed me against the wall with the tip of the blade against my throat.

"Endeavors daughter, right? Look, If you come with me everything will be just fine. I don't want to hurt you so don't make me."

I gulped. His hand was turning white from the grip he held to the knife, but his stance was flawed. He hadn't done this before. Or if he had, it hadn't been against a worthy opponent.

"Okay. I'll come with you. But you need to let me walk."

"O-okay, but don't try anything." I expected him to take the knife off my throat and move it, but he materialized another from his other hand and gripped it moving it towards where my stomach was. But from what I could guess it wasn't anywhere vital.

I waited for him to take the knife off my throat. His hands were shaky and he had to convince himself to move.

"Don't make me regret this," he said, before pulling the blade back.

I quickly maneuvered to grab his wrist, spreading my ice up his arm, ending below his thumb and going on top of his jacket to his elbow.

He hissed at the small areas where it touched skin and let both knives drop as he raced back clutching his wrist. He shakily made another and I prepared myself to fight it off when someone emerged from seemingly nowhere, tackling the guy down and angrily gripping his wrists before using a zip tie to secure his hands.
I stumbled back unsure of who it was. It seemed like he could be a criminal, with black hair and scars, but he had helped me, and I knew some heroes took on more gothic personas.

I stood uncertain of what to do with him, until he looked back at me.

"You gonna help, Ice Princess?" He asked, the staples in his skin glinting in the sunlight