Collateral Damage| bnha

chapter thirteen| where'd all the time go

[ todoroki's pov ] 

I  remembered Sora Kamimura as if we had been kids together yesterday.

As I leaned against the faded brick wall of the cafeteria, my gaze fixated on her from across the room, memories flooded back like an old story book I constantly read as a child. When I first walked into Class 1A I wasn't sure it was her. Afterall I only had the vivid memory of a blonde girl with darker skin and brown eyes. Now she had jet black hair, glasses, and— the most striking difference— a burn scar that ran across half of her face. Other than that, I could tell it was her. There was something about the way she talked, it reminded me of when we were younger and my father scolded her for not acting properly. It was the same exact facial expressions in every word then, as it is now. Half of her pretending not to be interested in the world around her, the other half completely unsure about every step she took. As soon as I saw her there was no doubt in my mind that it was Sora Kamimura, my long forgotten childhood friend.

Part of me knew I had to talk to her. For what? I was not sure off yet, perhaps it was just a childish whim. But just the fact that she was here was enough of a reason to try and have a conversation. There is so much I don't know about her, there is so much she doesn't know about me. There is so much left to say, and now there was an opportunity to. Yet when I finally mustered the courage to approach her after all these years, her eyes were cold, and a blank expression masking the warmth of our past, and some sharp words was her only reaction. She pretended not to remember me, as if our shared memories had never existed. For a moment there she almost had me convinced that she never existed in my life, that I had just imagined her, that I was confusing her with someone else. And it seemed almost plausible at the moment... almost.

But now, watching her carelessly sip her drink at the table across from me, I didn't need any more proof that we had met before, I knew she was real, as real as all the times my father used to beat me senseless as a child. I felt a bittersweet ache in my chest. Trying to comprehend how could someone I had once known act as if I were a stranger. How could she pretend she didn't know me when I could still recall every detail of our shared encounters, every hidden laugh, every secret, every time we were the only ones that made sense in a place surrounded by chaos. Yet to her, I seemed to have evaporated into thin air, I was but a ghost from a life she had long since forgotten.

"Could you pass me the soy sauce?"

Kamimura was seated not far from me, next to two of our other classmates Kirishima and Kaminari. I don't know much about them yet, other than they seemed like an energetic pair. The two boys were eagerly talking about the voting that we did before to pick a class rep, in which Izuku Midoriya ended up being chosen.

"Do you think he heard me?"

Class 1A was still too focused on the role of class rep, as it was known that unlike other schools, here at UA being a class rep meant proving that you could lead a group, it was an opportunity to get scouted by other hero agencies so naturally everyone wanted a shot at it.

"Um.. excuse me?"

When we finished tallying up the votes Kamimura was one of the few ones to end up with zero votes. Not surprising in my opinion since she wasn't eager to be a class representative from the beginning, she did not seem to want any attention on her at all. It was almost like she despised being seen or acknowledged. Whilst everyone was raising their hands and nominating themselves Kamimura kept her head down and pretended to be writing something in her notebook, although she was just doodling in the margins. I assumed that she realized as I did that being a class rep wouldn't really benefit her, it would just be extra work. But I also had noticed that she abhorred anything school related. Participating in class, training, and hero work. She was constantly looking at the clock, waiting for the day to be over. It was almost like she shunned the idea of being part of the school altogether, yet she was here.