U.A's secret Villain

Tables and chairs

A scream echoed through the dark room. Not a spot of the wooden walls and floor were clean. There were spots covered in dirt, grime, dust and in some of the more common spots, blood. There was not a clean spot anywhere you'd look. There was a single window of witch the moon light barely managed to shine through.

The sound of a girl crying made itself present as she wept out apology after apology with a shaky voice. Then the sharp scream again. In the corner of this room was the young girl. She was somewhere around the age or fourteen or fifteen, but was extremely skinny. Her long black hair was all over the place, covering bits of her ghostly pail skin. Each of her wrists were soaked and dripping with blood from the shackles that held her against the wall. Tears flowed from her yellow eyes as she looked to the dark man in front of her. In one of his hands was a knife with a blade covered in her blood. In the other he held onto her right leg. Her legs were littered with small cuts, some even shaped to make words. Most of them were either scabs or scarred up, but the few, still open cuts, were the problem.

He dug the blade into the back of her calf and let her screams of pain bounce off the walls of his basement. He always seemed to find the spots on her legs she found most sensitive to pain. It wasn't hard to use them against her either.

"Don't expect me to stop. You're a Surebu. This is what you get," he growled out carving out her title on her leg. The word 'Surebu' was to scar on that leg, along with many other hurtful word that she could never get rid of.
It's these scares that she hides to this day as she walked down the halls of U.A as a student for the first time. Her legs hadn't healed completely since that day in that man's basement. But it was healing, and hopefully will soon be gone.

The title she holds is still etched into the back of her calf. It will never go away, but she doesn't care. She is a Surebu. There's nothing she can do to change it. She was the last Surebu left. The rest had died years ago, but not her. She fought tooth and nail just to be here today. Just to walk into class 1-A for the first time and learn from the man who saved her from the hell of a Surebu.

This doesn't mean he's saved her completely. That task will be a lot harder, but he's willing to try. That's what the girl can see. So when he pointed to the back of his classroom at an empty desk, this last fighting Surebu couldn't help but the skip in her step as she moved over to the desk on her damaged and scared legs just to sit down and look up at the front.

It had been a hard, painful and confusing morning for everyone, but now they sat in their seats as Aizawa told them what would happen and the new conditions of Surebu's presence. Not everyone was happy about the girl who wore a males uniform, but no one was going to complain. She was a class 1-A student now, and she had to fit in with this wild group of kids somehow.
The plan was to have her act like other students, but the second she looked up on the bored, her mind went blank. All around her people were down writing the notes their teacher wanted them too, but Surebu didn't even have a book to write in, or any stationary to write with. No one had given any to her. Not to mention that she is a Surebu.

A few minutes passed, than a few hours, and than finally the bell for lunch. Everyone moved off, but Surebu wasn't even told what the bell meant. All she knew was one second she was staring blankly at the bored on the verge of tears without anyone noticing, and the next everyone was leaving the room.

She sat there confused all lunch since Aizawa had left after his lesson was over some time ago, he wasn't there to help her in any way, and the teacher she had wasn't told about her situation yet. That little detail for all the staff was for this afternoon's staff meeting. It was something small, but had a huge outcome on the poor girl.

She'd sat in the room by herself with nothing to do but let her mind roam to dark memories. There was one that stood out to her the most. It was in a dark alleyway where her life began to brighten. She could remember the bars of the small cage she was desplayed in. It wasn't much, but her hands were free this time.

The man from the basement had sat himself nearby and was glaring holes into her. It was dark, cold and all Surebu had to cover herself was a rag shaped as a dress with rips all over. It didn't bother her though, she was used to this treatment by now.

She could remember the distinct click of shoes on cement as it made itself present in the night.

"You're late," the man spoke finally taking his eyes off of the girl. It took everything in her not to look up to see who it was, but apparently whoever it was didn't care about the chit chat much. There was two, Surebu could tell by now. One of them thought it was a better idea to ignore the man and go to the cage.

He grabbed onto the bars next to her head giving her a slight jump. "Scared? How long have you had her?" A scratchy voice asked. The man answered almost immediately.

"Too long. Almost a year," he scoffed. "No one's willing to take her though," he finished off. Suddenly a hand was around her throat, but the pinky finger was lifted.

"Is it true? About your amazing quirk?" The one behind her asked. Amazing quirk. That was something Surebu had never heard about herself before. The man was about to answer, but he was cut off before even speaking. "I asked the girl! Not! You!" He yelled like a spooled child telling off a younger sibling. "I'm asking the girl. It's her quirk. She can answer," he explained before leaning into her ear. "Tell me everything about it," he whispered giving her chills.

"Surebu?" She jumped back to life at her desk. She looked up at the person in front of her only to see Aizawa. He had his eyebrows knitted together. That only meant he was worried. "Are you okay? You seemed a bit upset, and I didn't see you in the lunch room with the others," this statement only proved it. He went looking for her as well. She only managed to look away from his gaze. A sigh escaped her new homeroom teacher. "I'm guessing it was hard for you so far," he spoke. This time it was Surebu's time to sigh. She heard the bell ring once again, but without knowing what it meant she continued.

"I don't belong here," she mumbled out. Aizawa's eyes grew slightly at this before he asked why she thought that. "I'm stupid. I'm useless. Simply put, I'm a Surebu. I don't belong here. I belong six feet underground," she explained with a sad smile. Aizawa had no clue what to do at this point. He didn't know what she meant or why she thought she should be dead, but he couldn't let her talk like this.

"If you can beat me in hand on hand combat without using your quirk, you belong here," he attempted to make her feel better, but she wasn't willing to take this.

"I didn't beat you in hand on hand combat, and I did use my quirk. You just weren't paying attention at the time!" She yelled out letting the frustration of the day escpe her. Aizawa stared blankly at her. "You were busy, but I snuck up behind you and used my curse to my advantage," she explained quietly looking at the gloves on her hands. Aizawa decided to try one more time to help her. He grabbed her gloved hand with a soft smile that felt completely unnatural to him.

"You belong here Sur-" that was all he was able to get out before the girl had finally snapped. She pulled her hand away from him and brought her legs up so her feet were on the edge of her desk.

"DON'T CALL ME THAT!" She screamed out pushing the table as hard as she could making it fly into Aizawa and knock him onto the floor. The desk in front of where Surebu's was got hit and fell on top of Aizawa body, bringing the chair with it.

Silence filled the room as what Surebu had just done sunk into her mind and realisation hit her like a bus. A voice came from the door, screaming out Aizawa's name, and that's when Surebu knew that those 'classmates' had seen what she did to their teacher.