Make My Blood Boil

The start of something.

Beta read by @megaman1549 @Rasif2003 @Juvn_D_Snok @Lord_Hax

Hey, thanks for reading this chapter. I've made a discord for people to come in and talk about either this story or future projects I have. You can even make recommendations or even offer suggestions for current and future fics. https://discord.gg/Hs5xdXH 

The room was too small for her taste. Sure she could fit her bed, piano, personal make up booth, her desk and a few dozen shelves for her books. But it didn't seem to give her enough room to practice with her bo-staff. Maybe she should ask father to see if he could turn one of her closets into a personnel training area. Then she could do training even when she isn't in the main training area with Sabuki-Sensei. She could use the area for her quirk training, it would be a great place to make cannons and speed up her creation process.

Doors opened to what the occupants called the first dining table. Ivory pillars held up the silver bordered glass ceiling as it allowed light to pour in and reveal the room's features. Red silk covered the surface, it was lined with gold as it weighted the crimson silk to the saharan wood table. The walls displayed mosaics each depicting a member of the Yoayorozu family, her fathers being directly opposite to the oak doorway. The room was finished off with a small army of servants as they rotated around the room, silver platters of food in hand each holding a delicacy they themselves will likely never get to experience.

"Daddy dearest." A tight smile, eyes softly open with no visible marking of ever experiencing stress or sorrow. Ebony hair left to flow with her strides, not a single split end in sight. She walked with a grace many forgo in their lifetimes, back straightened to reveal a bountiful cleavage. She was covered in a sage green robe, hugging her figure yet deforming her silhouette as she stepped towards the octagon shaped table. She allowed her hips to sway, beads of sweat forming on the heads of the male servants, the man she addressed smiled warmly knowing what she was about to do.

"Yes cupcake?". A pet name he had used since her birth, affectionate, which meant she was alright to ask. The tight smile widened, eyes gaining a shimmer as she wiped the hair from her side behind her ear. Taking the seat to his left, she leaned forward making sure she was practically attached to his left arm as she looked upward into her softening father's eyes.

"Daddy, can we turn one of my closets into a personal training room? Pleaseeee." Her father sighed, the smile still attached to his lips, head moving to the right as if trying to pry itself from his daughters unrelenting affection. A moment later he turned back, eyes more solid.

"What will happen to the clothes? And which closet would it even be? Surely you thought this through before asking, right cupcake?" He closed his eyes as he spoke, the smile becoming more stretched, voice more condescending the further along in his questioning. She turned her head to the side, her features collapsing as she mentally went through each of the questions.

"Closet 7, it has all of last season's clothes, we could even give them to a nearby charity as a way to help our families' image. Please, daddy. You know how much I want to become a great hero. " the final sentence seemed to force the man to fold, sighing once more this time without his endearing smile. He pulled a servant from the side with a wag of his finger. The servant leaned forward, ear just shy of her father's mouth as the muffled whispers of her father filled the now awkward silence. A moment later and the servant retreated, a silent but curt nod and he was off towards the double oak doors, his stride long and swift, clearly in a hurry to follow her father's command.

"Father?". His head turned at the lack of affection, his daughter's stare was almost frightening, almost. Closing his eyes he allowed his head to rattle, mind suppressing the stress his only child had caused. He had only built closet 7 last year and yet she was already asking for it to be refurbished into a training room for her to do who knows what. It was only made worse by her obvious change in mood, stop giving her attention for one moment and she starts to become as cold as ice. He shook his head once more, fingers squeezing at the bridge of his nose