┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓ 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 " Being a hero means sacrifice " ┗━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┛
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THE RAIN PATTERED OUT A SOFT SONG AS IT FELL ON THE DUSTY WINDOW.
Dull and tired eyes, black and burning like charcoal, stared off through the double glazed panes as the voice of the teacher became nothing more than a mindless buzzing. Scarred fingers drummed absently against the desk. The tired girls hands were scarred and bruised, all the way from the tips of her slim fingers to her bandages wrists, with small flecks of blood crusted under her black painted nails.
A sigh, small and sad, passed the raven haired teens chapped lips as she crossed her arms and leaned forward to rest her sharp chin on her overlapping forearms. Law ran her pierced tongue across her teeth hidden behind her lips, flickering over the pointed canines. Gold eyes narrowed out of tiredness but snapped towards the blackboard at the front on the classroom as the teacher, an older woman with greying hair, tapped it with her ruler. Papers were tacked to the board, all lists of different jobs and life choices, but her mouth rambled on about something else.
"Now I know that several of my class are attending to U.A entrance exam..." her voice was scratchy and held a tone of authority as she addressed the 26 students dotted around the musky and dusty room "...and I would like to wish you luck with your dreams"
Dreams. Not ambitions. She knew that they were childish thoughts of glory and fame that they clung to despite that harsh reality that licked at their heels every second of every day. Law liked her teacher. She was a realist. It ever so slightly leveled out Laws pessimism.
Though she couldn't say much about the teenagers taking the U.A entrance exam. She was one of them.
The tall girl tugged at the cuff of her black school shirt and shuffled her white sneaker clad feet against the speckled floor. They squeaked like a little mouse. The long black uniform skirt tickled her shins as she shifted in her seat, the fabric swaying around her, before she finally stilled. She was thankfully that her school had not regulations on shoes but the uniform, as well as school books, had burned as pretty if hole in her families pocket. Even if they were lowkey rich.
The sudden shrieking of the school bell made the girl jolt in her seat. Her boney knees, as scraped and bruised as her hands, slammed against the underside of his desk with a bang. Several heads turned in her direction. Tired and judgmental eyes scrutinized every aspect of the delinquents ragged appearance. One person's eyes linger on her white shoes. They were tattered and ragged with old splatters of paint across the toe. The girl gave her a look, as if to say 'those shoes? With that uniform? Oh, honey no'. Law watched with a glare as the blonde got up and left with her friends. She soon followed sluggishly. She swiped some strands of long hair out of her face and back over her shoulder.
