My Renegade Speeder Academia (Izuku x Nova)

The Tower, The Bandit

WANTED: "NIGHTMARE"—REPORT ANY INFORMATION TO THE COUNCIL.

Her back went rigid and she felt that sickening swirl of anxiety in her stomach again, the same sensation she'd had all night and all morning. What was she doing?

She would be found out. Surely someone would recognize her.

Except—two of the Renegades who should have recognized her already had seemed oblivious. Surely, if she could fool Red Assassin and Smokescreen, she could fool anyone.

She looked hard at the image on the screen. Costumed as Nightmare, there was nothing to give her away. You couldn't even see her eyes in the photo, just the glint of her mask beneath the overhang of her black hood. No one would recognize her, not by looks at least. It was her mannerisms that threatened to give her away, those little things that one did subconsciously. The way she walked, or where she put her hands when she was standing still, or even how she fought in hand-to-hand combat. And, perhaps more than anything, the way she despised the Renegades and the Council, and the way that hatred could overflow from her mouth at any moment.

She would have to take care to smother those instincts. To play the game. To be one of them.

She reached for the pin attached to her T-shirt, the one Adrian Everhart had drawn at the trials. Her fingers ran over the sharp corners of the R, traced along the letter's curve.

Today she was a Renegade, so that someday she would be their downfall.

She approached the information desk, where a portly man with impressive sideburns was typing at a computer. He smiled when he looked up at her, but Nova couldn't quite bring herself to return it.

"Hi," she started. "I was recruited at the trials. I'm supposed to—"

"Insomnia, Flash." he said brightly, Nova looked confused until she turned around and see that Izuku was stand behind her and started to blush. she then says, "H-hey How's I-it going Flash? How's your back?" Izuku then says, "I'm doing well. My back still hurts, and also my name is Izuku Midoryia." Nova stuttered and then says, "O-okay Izuku." They then look back at the guy, at the desk, who was smiling the same smile that both Nova and Izuku saw in the faces of both their friends and teammates. 

launching to his feet and holding a hand toward her. She stared at it for a long time—pinkish-red skin and neat fingernails and a braided leather bracelet around his thick wrist. Though it was an innocent gesture, a normal gesture, everything about it felt uncanny.

Here was a Renegade, maybe a prodigy, maybe not, but either way, he was offering his hand to her. Contact. Skin.

Even the Anarchists didn't like to touch her. Not because being put to sleep was such a great tragedy, but because sleep left you vulnerable. She made people vulnerable.

She waited too long.

The man—Sampson Cartwright, according to the tag on the desk—awkwardly closed his hand into a fist and reeled it back. "I saw you both at the trials," he said, snapping his fingers as though this could make up for the awkward moment. "you two were adorable." Both Izuku and Nova faces started to blush like the sun.

Sampson then cleared his throat. "Anyway, you're on Sketch's team, right? I don't think he's come in yet, but I can check and see if..."

Nova's heart lunged into her throat. Sampson kept talking, but the words dulled to an annoying hum in her head.

The Council had just emerged from one of the elevators behind the information desk.

No—not the whole Council. Just Captain Chromium and Tsunami.