HandCrafted

Starved Work

In the days that followed, every free moment that Momo got seemed to be spent with her eyes focused on text in whatever book she'd checked out from the library, or in a textbook as she revised over the foundation subjects for the fifteenth time. The upcoming exams weighed heavily on her mind, her only freedom from thinking of the tests being the moments of sleep she managed to acquire when she was home.

Like everyone in her class, she was eager to pass and retain the opportunity to go on the Training Camp trip. The opportunity to see exactly how far she was able to push herself was one that she wanted to take. And the social aspect certainly wasn't a downside by any means. Going on a camping trip was something that she hadn't gotten to do before.

Certainly nothing like what Yuuei seemed to offer. On family holidays where she and her parents would actually leave their home, they always seemed to stay in the highest quality hotels and lodges that seemed to be available in the area. Prior to that, the only real experience Momo had was that which she saw from the movies and television shows she saw online. While common sense told her that this was an exaggeration of what actually happened, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was missing out on part of the experience with the way her family did things.

So the prospect of actually getting to see what the real thing was like, as well as further hone her abilities as a Hero made her feel a surge of excitement whenever she thought about it. It motivated her to do better than she had been doing.

The USJ was a good place for practicing with ones Quirk. For many, it was to see how much stronger and faster they were, and how much raw power their Quirks could provide for them. For others, it was a place to hone the body, and train it to be study and durable to take on whatever was thrown their way.

For Momo, it was a place where she could practice creating the various items she had studied.

She muttered quietly to herself as she flipped through one of the many encyclopaedia's she had brought, looking for something to try and create. She wanted something that she thought could be useful in a fight if she got into one, but would also be useful outside of combat. Since no one knew what the practical exam would entail, having something that would prepare her for any sort of scenario would no doubt be the smartest thing to do. It would pay to have something that she could rely on no matter what.

"Hmm... A kusarigama could be useful..." She decided, as she scanned over the information on the pages, studying over what it was made up of, and any additional information her book was willing to offer, before she placed it on the ground behind her once she had everything.

The kusarigama was an old Japanese traditional weapon used during the Muromachi period. They were shaped similarly to ice-picks, and while a deadly weapon in its own right, it could double as a grappling hook. Depending on the circumstance, such a weapon could be rather useful. More so than just a grappling hook on its own, or a melee weapon, as it gave her some range, something she often lacked.

Traditionally, they were made up of iron and steel, both of which weren't particularly difficult for the raven-haired girl to produce. All she needed to do was mentally think of the weapon in her mind and activate her Quirk. The handle suddenly jutted from her exposed stomach as the object came into being. As it extruded out from her, she placed a hand on the handle, preventing it from falling as the rest of the object formed itself.

It took less than ten seconds before she was holding her created weapon in her left hand, and it's accompanying chain in her right. She saw no real faults with the weapon as she inspected it. An impressive replication, especially for an object that she hadn't made before. She couldn't help but sigh though.

Would something like this even help, at the end of the day? While a dangerous weapon, and in the hands of the right person, a ruthless device for combat... What mattered wasn't the weapon itself, but the person who was holding onto it.