Kiko Aizawa is the 14-year-old daughter of Pro Hero Eraser Head or how his friends know him Shota Aizawa. Growing up as an only child to a Pro Hero and teacher at U.A she knew from the second her quirk manifested she was going to attend U.A and be...
I stood at the end of the terminal chewing my thumbnail almost off my finger.
"Stop that," Dad said as he slapped my hand from my mouth.
"I can't help it. I'm nervous." I told him.
"You don't need to be nervous I'm sure she will love you." He tried to reassure me as he crossed his arms back over his chest.
"You don't know that she might hate me. She might hate you. How are you so calm?" I asked him.
"I am a Pro Hero remember." He answered.
I rolled my eyes at him and then looked back to the terminal gate. The plan had landed five minutes ago she should be coming off soon. My sister, I still could not believe it. I have a sister. I was shocked when dad first told me. She was only a month younger than me. I was in shock when he told me. Not only do I have a sister who had been living in America she is less than a month younger than me. With my birthday being June 23rd and her's July 12th.
My shock turned to anger and I didn't talk to my dad for two days. I knew my parents had a rocky marriage leading to there divorce when I was six but I could not believe my dad would cheat on my mother. When I finally gave in and talked to him over pancakes two days later he explained that it was not that simple. I guess when my parents where nineteen my mother broke up with my dad. They were only apart for about two months before she found out she was pregnant with me and they got back together. At that time he had a one-night stand with a lady from America who was on vacation. He told me he never saw her after that night, that he couldn't even remember her name but she had ended up pregnant with my half-sister.
After processing what he had told me I realized I truly had no reason to be mad at him. He was stressed enough about all of this. Even if he wouldn't tell me I could tell it was killing him to know that he had another daughter out there who he was not able to take care of as he did with me. I thought I had it bad growing up with divorced parents when all of my friend's parents were still together. Then when my mom died when I was nine I remember thinking how life was not far but I was so wrong it could have been worse. At least I still had my dad, friends, and a safe place to live.
From what little dad told me about her past in America her mother died when she was six in an incident involving a sinkhole that swallowed her entire apartment building. After doing some research on my own I found a news article saying twenty-two people died that day, Mara had been the only survivor. She had no other family and grew up in an orphanage until she ran away when she was ten. When I asked my dad where she was living for the last four years he didn't have an answer. I was pulled out of my thoughts when people started walking off the plane.
I quickly held up my sign that hade her name Mara Rizzo written on it hoping it would help her see us.
"Do you think she will want to take our name?" I asked him as we watched person after person pile out of the terminal.
Every time another person walked out I became more and more anxious. I felt on the verge of the second panic attack of the day. The first one was this morning while I was trying to figure out what to wear to meet Mara. I went through my entire wardrobe, waiting to make the best first impression. I ended up settling on my favorite high waisted pink skirt that flared out like a bell and rested mid-thigh. My shirt was a light grey tank top that had a slight blue tint to it. I tucked the shirt into my skirt and then pulled on grey knee-high socks and pink sneakers that matched my skirt. My shoulder-length straight blond hair was down except for the small bread that started behind my ears and met on the back of my head. I was going to change again when dad dragged me out of our home so we wouldn't be late.
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"That would be up for her to decide." He answered pulling my attention back to him.
"Why wouldn't she? You're her dad." I asked him.
"That may be true." He answered then pulled his eyes from the line of people to look at me. "But remember we are strangers to her, and she's going to be in a new country that's very different than her own. Her name is the only thing from her past life shes able to bring with her. She may want to hold on to it." He told me like the teacher that he is.
Even though he seems like a loner who doesn't care about anyone. My dad is a very observant and thoughtful person. Even now I know he's over-analyzing every possible outcome to the upcoming greeting. I looked up to my dad to see him looked back at the people. I noticed him stiffen and his eyes go wide. I followed his line of sight and knew instantly what and who he was looking at. It was her. Mara, she stood there holding a small bag in her hand as she looked around utterly confused. There was no mistaking who she was. She looked exactly like my dad, our dad. If he was a fourteen-year-old girl that is. From what everyone tells me and the pictures I have of my mom I'm the spitting image of my mom, except for my eyes. Instead of her blue ones I had bright red eyes that as far as I know was the first in my family.
Mara on the other hand had dad's long black hair. Hers almost reaching her bottom and her black eyes were exactly like his.
After a few seconds of the two of us staring, her eyes landed on our sign then us. The two of us remained frozen in place as she made his way over to us.t writing
