THIS WILL BE MY ONLY AUTHOR'S NOTE AT THE BEGINNING OF ALL CHAPTERS, SO PLEASE READ.

Please read this explanation before reading the first chapter. Please, please. The first chapter is kept intentionally vague as I tried to set up / condense the background in one chapter. This has resulted a time-skipped filled chapter where I will only do a handful of scenes per year. Summarizing about 15 years in 50 pages, essentially. This is not my normal writing style, and I prefer proper fleshed out chapters, but I feel that this is necessary since very little actual events happen in the first fifteen years.

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This chapter is entirely pre-canon, and the next chapter will begin at the academy exams. Each chapter after this chapter will be properly fleshed out, detailed, and as non-brief as I can make it.

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In regards to ROMANCE: I have already decided upon one pairing for my OC. Romance is not the main focus of this story (hail friendship, and true companionship), so it will take a back burner like it does in the manga. That being said, I am a firm believer that most teenagers in general are not asexual, and sex drives are a thing. Hormones are a thing. I will not shy away from this (but I will not write out lemons, or limes in this story), so if physical attraction makes you uncomfortable, this story may not be for you. In addition, the OC is pansexual.

In regards to TRIGGERS: As someone with PTSD, I understand the value of having trigger warnings at the beginning of chapters. I do not initially foresee my writings requiring such a thing, but given the violence of the manga and some of the characters, it is a possibility that I cannot out handedly dismiss. I wish to keep everyone as in character as possible, only taking them out of canon character if I believe my OC has affected them enough to do so. If there are possible triggers in a chapter, I will post the warnings at the beginning of the chapters in bold and underline.

In regards to CANON going AU: In all my stories I have been learning to use the butterfly effect to the best of my ability. I hope to eventually deviate enough from canon to go into AU, but it will be hard because the manga is not complete, so I do not know how to foreshadow certain events. There may end up being something so huge and climatic in the manga that is unavoidable from what I have written so far, that we hop back into canon territory.

In regards to OC power level: OC will be strong. This strength will not be an immediate power up, or an OP move made available right at the start, but her strength will be improved as the story goes, and "unlocked" at an appropriate time. The manga is still ongoing and there's no definite way to predict how the power levels will scale, so I have created her "true" Quirk to allow me to match any power level presented.

This is a feel good story first. This is the kind of story I want people to read when they are having a bad day, or feel upset, that they can read this and cheer up. There will be some angst, and some sadness, but overall I want to leave you with a happy feeling at the end of every chapter. We all love and cherish this story, and these characters, and I think we all want them to be happy (and occasionally see them sad, because we all feel sad at times and it's nice to know that we're not alone in feeling that way).

The cover: The cover was drawn by my dear friend, Cantrona (deviantART). Link to the full size of the cover will be on my profile, as well as her deviantART account.

Disclaimer: I, Darkpetal16, do not own My Hero Academia, nor do I claim to. This story is written purely because I love the adventure written so far, and I hope to contribute to the fandom.

Warning: All warnings are addressed above. This story does deal with the idea of reincarnation, so it starts off a little sad, but it gets happy. Promise. :)

Summary: The cycle of rebirth is a heavy burden for one soul to bear, but perhaps one does not need to carry it alone. Self-Insert OC SI/OC

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Prologue

She was born carrying her mother's regrets.

She was born carrying her mother's fears.

She was born carrying her mother's mistakes.

Her story does not last long.

She does not last long.

It begins when she was born into the world, and it ends less than three years into her brief life.

And then that is when my story begins.

◟(◕◡◕❀)

Age 1

She was placed on the steps of her grandparents.

Her mother could not provide her with love, so her mother left her with those that could. There was no identification left with her, nor any note. When the elderly couple awoke at dawn, as they did every day to begin to tend to their farm, they found the crying baby at their doorstep.

When they saw her pale pink hair, they knew who she belonged to, and they brought her in.

Her mind was not developed by that point to retain much.

She remembered feeling safe.

She was loved.

She was cherished.

She was confused.

◟(◕◡◕❀)

Age 2

Things were easier to understand, but something seemed off in her world. She did not feel like she belonged, and at times the small toddler felt an overwhelming sense of failure. She didn't, couldn't, understand what she felt at the time. All she knew was that her chest ached, and her eyes burned from the tears she could not hold back.

Her Baba and her Papa showered her with love and kisses, but it was not enough to ease the ache she felt.

She had failed.

At what?

She did not know.

◟(◕◡◕❀)

Age 2 ¾

It was such a simple thing.

She had injuries before.

Each kissed and cared for before she could even bat an eye.

She had seen cuts and bruises on her Baba and Papa after they worked the farm. She had seen them doctor everything up without any issue.

It was such a simple thing.

But it triggered everything.

She sat outside on the porch, basking in the sunlight. Her Papa had installed gates around the porch, so she could sit outside without wandering off. They were tall, and smooth to the touch, and sometimes she tried to gnaw on them when her mouth throbbed painfully.

Under the sunlight, she often grew drowsy and would curl up in the bed they brought out for her, underneath a little canopy to keep out bugs and amidst a plethora of stuffed toys. When she awoke, she was back inside and Baba would make her another slimy meal.

That day should have been like any other day.

It started off like any other day.

But then there was the a shout, and while she could not see anything over her fence, she knew it was her Baba.

She heard her Papa say something, even if she did not understand what he said.

Then Baba came up to the porch, and red, red—red—red—redredred—

She screamed and clutched at her head as memories flooded through her.

Her failures clawed at her.

Her mistakes ate at her.

Her deaths ripped her apart.

She could no longer play the role of an innocent child.

I could never claim to be innocent.

◟(◕◡◕❀)

Age 3

I was alive, again.

A different face. A different family. A different gender. A different life.

Again, and again, I was alive.

They called me Kiyomi this life.

I had her memories intermingled with my own, even if they were not fully incorporated. The human mind was not developed by the age of three, and by no means was it possible to hold perfect clarity of many lives stuffed into one. I only knew I was reborn, and I only knew it was because I failed again.

In time, my memories of my past life would regress and fade away into faint flashes and ambiguous dreams. It wasn't often that I remembered anything from my past lives when I was reborn, but it happened often enough that I knew what to expect.

I couldn't remember how it all started—who I was in my very first life. I couldn't remember if there was a specific reason for it.

All I knew was that I had never met another in my place.

And that, eventually, I would always wake up.

Maybe there was no reason to it.

Maybe I was just the unlucky soul that kept slipping through the cogs of time.

It wouldn't surprise me.

I didn't know anything. All I could do was guess and theorize. No higher being talked to me; no mysterious message sent to me.

I died.

And eventually I woke up.

My too-tiny hands clutched at the bundle of curly pink hair, tugging on it. Another migraine was about to encroach upon me, and I dreaded it. I would be dealing with the headaches for many years to come as my current life's brain was forced to rapidly build the neurons and dendrites and other fun things in order to deal with all of my past lives. After a while, when the memories started to fade away, so would the head aches (I remember in one life, the ordeal caused an aneurysm which ended my life abruptly there). Until that point, though, I had to deal with one of the single most painful things in existence.

The body began to cry uncontrollably, as the toddler hormones raged throughout me.

Baba picked me up from my crib and began to soothe me, her own pink (slowly fading into white) hair pulled up in a tight bun, and her wrinkles crinkling into a smile while she cooed.

At least I was loved.

◟(◕◡◕❀)

Age 3 ½

I awoke to a pain unlike I had encountered before.

My chest felt like a sledgehammer was pounding on it from the inside out. Knowing that something was deeply wrong, I began to cry out for help. Baba and Papa rushed in to help me, and by the time they reached me, I was starting to have difficulty breathing. I clutched at my chest, gasping for air.

Baba let out a startled shriek, picking me up from the crib and beginning to rush us to their old car.

Papa was frantically looking around for the keys, and it took him a solid three minutes to find them.

By that point, the pain had intensified to scorching claws tearing at my heart. My breathing stopped, and then a bright light filled the entire room. It felt like my chest was literally being ripped open.

When the light faded, a small white stick (no bigger than my tiny hand) laid on my chest. The pain faded away, and my breathing returned to normal.

Baba and Papa stared in disbelief, before they began laughing and crying. They kissed me.

"Oh, Kiyomi-chan," Baba sighed with relief, nuzzling me and holding the stick up so I could see. "Your Quirk must have awoken. You had us so scared!"

"I wonder what Quirk that is," Papa mumbled, examining the piece of white wood. "Must be from her father, whoever that may be."

Baba nodded, and I continued to stare at the two in dumbfoundment. Then she smiled and kissed my cheek. "I'm sure it'll be a lovely Quirk. Who knows, you might even be able to become a hero, like that All Might boy."

What?

What?

◟(◕◡◕❀)

Age 4

It was the first time that I could ever remember that I had been into a world I thought fictional. That was literally a story told from my immediate previous life.

(Not that I had a lot of past life memories by that point, as most had regressed)

After my Quirk had awoken, I had done my best to pester my Baba and Papa about absolutely everything about heroes and Quirks.

I knew I had been reborn into the same world as the hero All Might from My Hero Academia.

I knew that most of the world developed Quirks by the age of six.

I knew the history of heroes and villains lined up with what I remembered from the manga. Even U.A. was an actual honest to goodness school in that world. In fact, it was as renowned and infamous as the manga portrayed it to be.

I didn't know when I was reborn in proportion to the manga storyline, though.

Something that would likely have to be rectified.

For all I knew, maybe I was supposed to do something about that story. Maybe I was supposed to become a hero? Maybe if I did something drastic enough, if I changed enough of the story, it would set me free from the cycle of reincarnation? Maybe?

I wasn't sure, but it was all I had going for me at the moment.

◟(◕◡◕❀)

"I understand," the strange man mumbled.

He had come to our home in the middle of the day, dressed in dark robes. He spoke with a heavy English accent, and most of his face was obscured by the shadows of his hood. He had an old, gravely voice, though, and was taller than anyone I had ever seen.

He had introduced himself as Gernaldo, Deputy Headmaster of the School of Magi. He had said that all those with the Magi Quirks were registered throughout the world (though more than 97% of the Quirk users originated in Europe or North America), and that the Quirk was common enough that it had its own school. He said that it would be highly advisable for me to attend.

I did not want to.

Baba and Papa especially did not want me to.

We all said as such, and the man was quiet for a moment before nodding and saying he understood.

He then reached into his robe and pulled out a small pamphlet. "There are, ah, necessities you should be aware of, then. Those with the Magi Quirk are dependent upon their wands; without their wands they cannot use any abilities. Wands can only perform so many abilities before they must recharge, and this can take up to weeks. Your granddaughter will likely develop one of the following as her first ability: teleportation, or shapeshifting into an animal. Her second, and likely final, ability will not develop until puberty, at least.

"I would highly advise seeking me out in that case, as each being born with the Magi Quirk develops different second abilities, and some of them can be dangerous if incorrectly trained. In this pamphlet you will find many answers to raising a child of Magi Quirk, as well as my numbers, and emergency contacts. You are welcome to revoke your decision on her education at any point in time, as the school accepts students of all ages, regardless of their situation."

Baba shifted me in her lap. "I see. Thank you, sir."

The elderly man seemed to smile at us. "Don't be afraid to call."

"Okay," I said nervously.

Gernaldo eyed me for a long moment, before offering a small smile. "Please do take care of yourself, Kiyomi-chan. Your wand is… especially important."

It would be over a decade before I talked to him again.

◟(◕◡◕❀)

I could teleport.

I could not teleport far.

I could not teleport anyone with me.

Not yet.

My wand drained quickly, and it was such an odd sensation. It was like I had a definite percentage of my wand's power constantly in the back of my mind. 50%, 35%, 7%, etc. Teleporting took about 30% of my power, and it took an entire day of recharging in order to regain what was lost (in order to recharge my wand, I had to return it to my heart; the sensation was like slipping on a slipper—the wand being the foot, and my heart being the slipper—entirely painless, but weird to feel with my heart).

According to the pamphlet, as I matured, so would my wand, and repeated uses steadily increased its overall max power. With nothing to lose, I spent a large portion of my days teleporting everywhere I could, and then recharging all next day.

I wanted to travel far.

I wanted to know when exactly I was.

The best way I could think to do so, would be to teleport to the beach that Izuku cleaned up in order to receive One For All. I remembered the setting well enough, that I felt that if I had enough power I could go there.

So I "trained."

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Age 5

I felt ready to test how far I could go. The feeling was difficult to describe—suffice to say it felt like my wand was urging me test it. The small thing burned where it laid on my chest (Baba fashioned it into a makeshift necklace, so it hung over my heart). It needed to stay near my heart, because if it ever grew low on energy, or if I needed to hide it, I could withdraw it back inside my heart with a simple urge.

How the science of that worked was beyond me, but many Quirks defied science, or at least the science I knew.

When the sun had set long ago, and Baba and Papa had taken to bed, I sat on our roof and prepared myself.

I intended to go to the beach I remembered with near perfect clarity. If I could successfully go to that beach, and it was covered in trash, I knew it was before All Might had accepted Izuku as his successor. I would make semi-frequent trips to the beach to check how far in the timeline I was.

As I began to envision where I wanted to go, my wand swelled with energy. The moment I released that energy to teleport myself, another traitorous thought popped in my head.

Of a little boy who began his brutal training at the mere age of five.

The image of him appeared in my mind, and I felt an uncomfortable sensation settle over me.

My energy—magic, if I was feeling particularly optimistic—released, and away I went.

The actual act of teleporting created no odd sensations. One moment I was in one place, and the next I was someplace else.

I did not arrive at a beach.

Surprise fluttered inside of me, until I realized I had teleported to someone else's bedroom.

I didn't recognize anything around me. It was a traditionally styled japanese room, with tatami mats, a handful of action figures scattered atop rows of bookshelves (that were each filled with difficult-looking textbooks), and pictures of landscapes. Unease filled me, along with mortification that I had essentially invaded someone's home.

I was about to leave, when I noticed the most important thing.

I could hear the soft whimpers of someone crying.

'No.'

'Surely, I did not…?'

Gentle moonlight filled the room through the open window, enough light that I could scarcely make out a small lump atop the covers of a small bed.

My heart immediately went out to the crying boy, and I was torn between my desire to leave, and my overwhelming urge to help him.

The split feeling only lasted a second before I shook my head, and made my way over to the boy. He kept his eyes screwed shut, occasionally turning his head into the pillow, and he paid me no heed.

I laid down beside the boy, taking one of his hands in my own, and using my other hand to wipe away the tears. It was heart-wrenching to comfort him, and to only be able to comfort him. For reasons entirely unknown to me, I was immediately moved and deeply affected by what I saw and heard. My previous lives had left me relatively jaded (though as the memories faded away, the optimism that Baba and Papa hoped to instill in me seemed to slowly take root), so the fact that I was so drastically touched by that boy was deeply surprising.

I wished I had the strength to confront the one who made him cry. I wished I was strong to protect what innocence he had left. I wished, more than anything, that I could take him away, far away.

I couldn't do any of that, though.

I was a child.

And my wand would not permit me to take strangers away.

It was… bitter.

The feelings of uselessness gnawed inside of me, like a vicious animal.

How anyone could affect me in such a way was unexpected.

I knew I had grown fond of him from my past life—fond of many of them, in fact—but so much that his face became my new focus point for teleporting, and that hearing him be upset made my heart twist and knot in such a painful way it left me breathless? Unthinkable prior to this life.

As his sniffling stopped, and he started to look up at my curiously, I couldn't repress my feeling of guilt, and pain I felt for him.

"Who are you?" he whispered, his voice cracking like firewood.

My gaze drifted to where our hands were, and I squeezed his gently. Words tumbled out of me against my will. "I'm sorry for intruding, but now I must ask your permission to intrude again."

He watched me, his brow furrowed.

I raised his hands and placed them over my heart. "My name is Kiyomi. I wish to take away your pain."

"You can't—"

"Not now," I admitted, swallowing the rest of my words like a bitter pill. "But I want to try. I want to be your friend."

"I don't—I mean—okay."

"May I come back here in a few nights?"

"My—father doesn't allow me to—"

"He doesn't have to know. I won't force your permission, but I really want to help you."

The boy hesitated.

Then he gave a tiny smile. "Okay."

Despite my heart breaking at that sad smile, I smiled back in return.

'Maybe this was what I was meant to do.'

◟(◕◡◕❀)

When I returned to him, to Shōto, he seemed surprised to see me.

I appeared in his room, late at night, only to find him drying his eyes again. He noticed me right away, and let out a quiet gasp. I smiled at him, giving him a bow. "Hello. How do you feel?"

"I—you're real?"

That threw me for a loop for a heartbeat, until I processed what he said.

'I suppose a complete stranger appearing in your room in the middle of the night, only to comfort you and leave would seem more like a fairytale dream than reality.'

Scratching my right cheek in sheepish embarrassment, I said, " Uh, yeah. I, ah, I'm sorry if I'm intruding. If you don't want me here I, ah, can leave—"

"No," Shōto whispered quickly, then glanced towards his bedroom door. He got up from his bed and poked my cheek. "You're really real."

I took his hand, giving it a squeeze before letting go. "I am. And I want to help you."

"Help me?"

"I want to—to make sure you're okay," I admitted softly, my brow furrowed. How could I explain it? I was affectionate towards all those I had once considered characters. Like many, I had fallen underneath their enrapturing tale, and I wished for each for them to receive their happy endings, so to speak. Each of them seemed precious, and I was compelled to—to—well, to protect their happiness.

As cheesy and ridiculous as it sounded.

It was the first time in far too long that I was actually motivated to do something… something optimistic.

After outliving everyone you ever came to love over and over and over—

It got so, so damn tiring.

There were lifetimes that I didn't want to deal with anyone. I didn't want to love. I didn't want to feel. I wanted things to end as quickly as possible, or I wanted to be closed off from humanity to try and recover from my last life.

Even when I stopped remembering my reincarnations as I aged in a lifetime, those feelings of failure, or grief, would sometimes never leave me. I would be haunted by something I couldn't comprehend, and nothing seemed to be able to shake me from it.

So to be able to have a goal—something achievable and happy and positive—in my life… it was warming. It made my heart flutter, and I was, dare I say it, hopeful.

I was hopeful I could make a difference in a positive manner.

(And hope was a powerful, wonderful, and intoxicating thing to the desperate.)

There before me was one of those very smiles I wanted to protect.

I cleared my throat. "I want to protect your smile."

Shōto tilted his head, his brow furrowed. "I don't entirely understand, but… you're welcome to stay. Father can't see you, though."

"I'll come every few nights," I promised. "We can do whatever you want."

"Whatever I want?"

"Whatever you want," I repeated, reassuring him.

He smiled shyly at me. "Ever heard of All Might?"

◟(◕◡◕❀)

True to my word, I came to him every few nights. I would have gone to him every night, if my wand didn't require a full day to recharge after making the trip. He was always awake when I arrived, and most nights he seemed genuinely excited to see me. We would watch videos of heroes, tell outrageous stories, play childish games, or watch movies. There were a few nights, though, that he was too tired, or too upset to do anything more than be comforted until he fell asleep. I did the best I could to make him happy, and give him hope.

I liked to imagine I succeeded.

(Later, he would tell me that I did.)

I wasn't sure what else I could do for him. The only thing I was certain about in regards to Shōto was that I sincerely wanted to make him happy, and for him to stay happy.

On the few visits where his eyes were red, and his heart heavy, I did everything in my power to cheer him up. It wasn't always effective, and there were moments where all I could do was pat his head, hold his hand, and change the ice compress for him.

"I'm here," I would tell him, and try to convey to him that he was not alone.

He would mumble something in return, and squeeze my hand a bit tighter.

"I'm here," I would repeat, voice soft. "You will never be alone."

"Promise?"

"Always and always."

◟(◕◡◕❀)

Age 6

I laid beside Shōto in his bed, both of us above the covers. Shōto had his back turned to me, facing the wall and refusing to turn over to greet me. Normally when I entered his room, Shōto would acknowledge me in some manner.

When he didn't, concern urged me to touch his shoulder. My hand gently rested on his left shoulder, and he finally turned around to face me.

A soft gasp escaped my lips when I noticed his bandaged face. Worry and guilt settled like a cold stone in my stomach, and I gently touched the bandages. "Are you in pain?"

He mutely shook his head, then turned his back to me once more.

My chest was tight, icicles pricking inside of me painfully. I could feel my eyes burn, and I struggled to keep my tears in check. The bandage created a foreboding sense deep inside of me, and I knew what would come.

I knew more pain was in store for my friend.

Pain I could not take away from him.

What could I do?

I was six. A nobody. A useless child.

The one would cause him pain was Endeavour. The world's second greatest hero, and a public darling. He was untouchable to someone like me.

My wand had grown attached to Shōto, like I, so I was capable of teleporting him away.

But to what?

Where would we go?

Where would he hide?

I couldn't stop Endeavour any more than I could stop a hurricane.

Shōto was his prized child. The perfect combination of the two Quirks Endeavour bred him for. Endeavour would create his version of the perfect hero out of Shōto, whether Shōto liked it or not.

The chill inside of me intensified with the feelings of helplessness that overwhelmed me.

"What can I do?" I pleaded.

"Nothing," he muttered.

I pulled the blankets over us, and tucked him in as best I could before I held his hand. "I'm here for you."

He didn't respond, and I felt a knife dig inside of my chest.

"I'm here for you."

Silence.

"I'm here for you."

"I know," he whispered, his voice breaking.

"Always and always."

"Always and always," he repeated back to me, shuddering as the first of many tears fell.

◟(◕◡◕❀)

There were no schools in my area. When it was time for me to attend elementary school, my Baba and Papa were prepared to send me to the nearest boarding school (where most of the children went to in our tight-knit community).

I neither wanted, nor needed to attend school. Aside from the fact that I had done so way too many times and the idea of having to go through it again made me physically ill, I sincerely would rather remain at home so I could assist Baba and Papa.

While both were physically fit, and healthy as could be, they were both old and constantly working hard on the farm.

Baba was a retired teacher, and wrote children's books and juvenile fantasy novels, but during her free time she would go outside and work the gardens for Papa. Papa was an old school farmer, who did not farm to sell, but farmed to trade with other farmers (our community was nothing but farmers), or provide food for his family. Our income came strictly from Baba, as well as their retirement.

Caring for me did not put a strain on their financial aspect, thankfully, and because of my more youthful body, I was able to assist them in things they could no longer do. Or at least, in some cases (eventually all cases when I was old enough). In addition, thanks to my teleport ability, I could quickly take Baba and Papa to the hospital the moment something was amiss. I could not be there for them, and know when they needed me, if I didn't stay at home.

Granted, I could attend the school during the day and teleport back home at night, but that was still eight hours of my Baba and Papa left alone.

Far too unsettling. I had come home to deceased parents before, and I never wanted to do that again.

So when the subject came up, I respectfully declined, and launched into a long, persuasive argument that I could be self-taught, and Baba could home-school me on subjects I could not understand.

Naturally, both were dubious of my claims.

I pleaded with them to give me a chance—give me one year to prove that I could educate myself. If I failed the exam that Baba created for me at the end of the year, then I would concede, and never argue against going to school again.

It took several days of arguing before both finally relented and gave me my year.

Unbeknownst to them, I had acquired the self-discipline to self educate myself many life times ago, and it was not something that would go away willy nilly. Not to mention after having the basics taught over, and over again ingrained them so much in me that I could do them with my eyes closed, so to speak.

With what allowance I had obtained (usually doing dishes, or helping out with dinner—there wasn't much a child was allowed to do to earn allowance) I purchased a variety of textbooks and work books under the pretense I would use them to study. Most of the books I bought were written by one M.P.

◟(◕◡◕❀)

Age 7

Some things were getting harder to remember. Even when I wrote things down, when I looked back upon what I wrote it was like a complete stranger wrote them.

It was scary at times.

It was heartbreaking at other times.

But mostly, it was relieving.

I didn't want to remember, and I didn't remember why I didn't want to remember. I figured it had something to do with my death, but when I dwelled too much on it, I was overcome with so much anxiety and fear, it left me shaking and curled up.

The words failure rang throughout my head.

I hated it.

Useless.

Pathetic.

Weak.

Never strong enough.

The words repeated over and over inside of me.

I hated it all so terribly much.

I couldn't be any of those words.

Not again.

Not ever.

I would be useful.

I would be strong.

I would protect those I loved.

I would be a hero.

◟(◕◡◕❀)

I wrapped my left arm around Shōto and pulled him close so I could ruffle his hair. The boy immediately protested my affection, but I continued on with it. When I finally let go of him, he shot me a glower and started to fix his hair.

"Stop doing that," Shōto complained, picking back up his All Might action figure and holding it out to me. "All Might would never have to go through that."

"But you aren't All Might," I said with a grin. "You're a cutie patootie that must be hugged and loved!"

"I am not!" the child protested petulantly, huffing. I doubted he realized that his left hand trailed up to touch his burnt face, but I noticed immediately and grabbed his hand.

"You are," I disagreed firmly, squeezing his hand. Shōto's eyes trailed away, and he shrugged. "Do you want to play another game?"

"Okay," he said quietly.

I gave his hand one last squeeze before letting go. "You are a cutie. Always will be."

"It's not nice to lie," he muttered.

"I'll tell you every time I see you, Shōto. You'll believe me one day."

He snorted, and set down his action figure.

"I'll be sparing daily now," he told me quietly.

My heart constricted and I placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm here for you."

He turned his head back and gave me a small smile.

"Always and always?" he asked me.

"Always and always," I promised him.

◟(◕◡◕❀)

I had proven myself to Baba and Papa. Baba would set the requirements of what I had to learn within a year, and what I had to master. As long as I continued to meet her requirements, I was allowed to be "home schooled."

They were both proud of my self-discipline, and relieved I would be able to stay home with them. Sometimes Baba worried about me making friends, but her worries were dismissed by Papa, or one of our many neighbors when they came to visit.

"She has all the family and friends she needs here," Papa would say, as he lifted me up and placed me in one of our neighbor's lap.

The elderly neighbor would coo at me. "When our grandchildren visit, she'll be able to play with them."

"I suppose," Baba responded dubiously, still giving me worried looks. "I only want her to be happy."

"I am happy," I said.

Baba smiled and bent down to kiss my cheek. "Then stay that way, precious Kiyomi-chan."

◟(◕◡◕❀)

Age 8

I discovered the wonders of texts written by one M.P. and how they were so perfectly written, I felt like I could learn everything I could possibly need to by reading them. My studies had reached to the point where my past life couldn't be of much help to me. It had been too many years since I had done complex algorithms, or thought about chemistry. The only thing I had left going for me was the self-discipline I had mastered, and that carried over into this life (this life).

Baba and Papa were itching for me to attend some sort of school, but as long as I could remain helpful here, I would continue to fight against that notion.

More than anything, I wanted to be helpful.

More than anything, I wanted—

No.

I needed to be helpful.

There was a burning itch deep inside of me that had been growing into a rampaging forest fire. The desperate need to be of use overwhelmed me at times, dominating every bit of my reasoning. It was what drove me in life, and for the life of me I could not pinpoint where it came from, or why it was there.

If I thought for an instant that I was useless, I would crumple into a fit of self-loathing that wouldn't leave until after I had been reassured repeatedly that I was useful. It was horrendously shameful, and I hated that part of me with a passion.

(It was easy to feel useless tending the injuries of my dearest friend, unable to stop the one who was hurting him.)

But it felt like that I could not do anything to change that part of me. I felt stuck, and helpless against the urge, so I did the only thing I could, and devoted myself to feeling useful.

I knew I needed an education (it would be stupid to deny such a thing), but as long as I could continue to self-teach, or be homeschooled, then I could obtain that education and help those that I loved.

The texts written by M.P. were blessings straight from the Maker's ass, I swear. I praised the unknown author for many years to follow that he had deigned to write such holy things, and share it with the unworthy.

(It bugged me that despite how amazing the texts were, they were not popular sellers by a long shot.)

With the proper education taken care of, I had to address the next avenue required of me to be useful (to be able to protect Shōto).

Strength.

My Quirk wasn't something typically used by heroes. I could never teleport strangers (a wand had to become comfortable with someone before teleporting—an act that could take years), and all of my powers were dependent upon a single piece of wood. If the wand was ever broken, I could never continue to be a hero. I would, essentially, be Quirkless.

If I wanted to be strong, to be powerful enough to protect Shōto from Endeavour, I had to become a great hero. I had to have enough sway in the public's eye that I could expose Endeavour for the monster he truly was, and enough raw power and skill to deal with Endeavour in person if I had to.

Endeavour would be untouchable otherwise, I believed.

In addition to the fact that since Shōto would (inevitably, against his will) become a hero, if I became a hero with him I could actively protect him from the dangers on his job.

So becoming a hero seemed like the thing to do.

Which was why I had begun the ever wonderful… exercising.

And, praise be to YouTube, I was able to begin learning the katas to the wing chun fighting style.

Of course learning to fight on your own is never a good thing, and when I first showed Shōto my katas, he had to correct every single one of my stances for months.

◟(◕◡◕❀)

Age 10

I sat in bed, my mind reflecting on the strange dream I had.

Vague images danced behind my eyes when I closed them, but one picture stood out with perfect clarity.

It was a boy, and he had no name, but I wanted to call him Sunshine, or Cinnamon Roll.

He was precious to me, so precious in fact, I was compelled to find him.

But he came to me in a dream, and we had never met. If I found him, what would I even say?

Was he even real?

I could try to find him. My teleportation allowed me to teleport to individuals as long as I had a clear image of them in my head, and they carried no Repellant (a special creation by the school of Magi that prevented our powers from working in certain areas. It was essential for most securities, given that half the Magi Quirk population consisted of teleporters) that was how I teleported to Shōto, five years ago.

I fidgeted in my bed.

Who was he?

Who was the Sunshine, the Cinnamon Roll, who I felt obligated to protect? Who I wanted to cheer for, and comfort, similar (but not the same anymore) to how I wanted to protect Shōto? Why was I compelled to meet him?

Talking to a stranger, typically, left me in a tangled bundle of nerves, but for the boy I felt like it was worth the risk.

Why?

Who was he?

As I got ready for the day, the questions circled inside my head. I found myself going through the motions in a daze, so wrapped up in my head. Only when Baba called out to me, to remind me that I was to take her to her doctor's appointment in half an hour, did I snap out of it.

"What's wrong with you, Kiyo-chan?" Baba asked me, placing a calloused wrinkled hand over my forehead. Her blue eyes softened with worry.

"There's someone I want to meet," I said, "but I feel nervous to do so."

"Is this person dangerous?"

"No! I think he's… very good."

Baba smiled at me and kissed my cheek. "I know you feel shy, little Kiyo-chan, but don't let that shyness take away your chance to make a friend. If he is good, then there is nothing to fear."

I kissed Baba and hugged her tightly. "I love you, Baba."

"And I love you, Kiyo-chan."

When Baba left the room to finish setting up dinner in the crockpot, I took a deep breath, envisioned the boy, and left.

There was a startled shout, and my gaze snapped up to the flustered boy, and my eyes widened upon seeing him. A rush of memories came to me in that split second, for his face triggered all of them. I grabbed his—Izuku's—hands and I told him, "You're going to the greatest hero ever, Cinnamon Roll. Don't ever give up. I'll be here for you."

The ten year old boy on his way to school let out faint choking noises as his face slowly turned fifty shades of red.

I released my hold on his hands and smiled at him. "I'll see you later. I gotta take Baba to her appointment."

As he covered his face with his arms, still making funny noises, I left him and returned to Baba.

Baba barely startled when I appeared in front of her, with a wide smile on my face. "Baba! I think I made a friend today."

Baba beamed at me. "Well done, Kiyo-chan."

◟(◕◡◕❀)

I waited until I felt certain that Izuku ('How did I know that name? Why did I dream about him? Why did I say the things I said?') would have been done with dinner, before I appeared before him.

Unsurprisingly, I appeared in his room and the boy had to cover his mouth to keep the startled scream inside. He was on his bed with what appeared to be a green notebook, and some pages of homework scattered in front of him.

"I-It's you," he stammered, his face redder than tomatoes. "Wh-what are you doing here?"

"I'm here to talk to, um, um, you, of course," I told him, blushing. Reflecting on my actions earlier that day was embarrassing, and seeing him get flustered over it, only made me more flustered. I didn't have a lot of interaction with people around my age except Shōto, and Izuku was nothing at all like Shōto.

"Wh-Wh-Why?" he wheezed out, slowly scooting back from me. The poor boy looked ready to pass out.

I licked my lips, feeling unsurprisingly nervous. How did I explain to a complete stranger that I dreamed about him, decided to see he was real, and currently felt an undeniable urge to become his friend?

"I dreamed about you, so I decided to become your friend," I settled on, offering him up an anxious grin.

He was starting to make squeaky noises. It seemed like he was trying to form coherent words, but only high-pitched squeaks escaped him.

"So," I continued slowly, "if you don't want to be friends say so now. I pr-promise not to bother you further."

He shook his head frantically.

I beamed. "Excellent. My name is Kiyomi! I'll come visit you on the weekends every week now!"

Izuku nodded his head, still wheezing and squeaking.

◟(◕◡◕❀)

Age 11

"I want to be a hero," I told Shōto one afternoon. "I want to go to U.A. and become a professional hero."

Shōto paused from his readings, looking up at me. We were both sitting beside each other on a large couch, quietly reading different novels. I, of course, was reading the latest text by M.P. Even if I did not know anything about Quantum Physics, I was too much of a dedicated fan girl by that point to not read it.

Shōto closed his book, turning to face me squarely, his face (as always) entirely serious. "Are you sure? Being a hero will be dangerous. What about Baba, and your Papa?"

I straightened my shoulders, my gaze firm as I responded to my friend, "I'm sure. I've thought about this for the past couple of years, and I truly believe this is what I want in life. I don't know if I'll be able to succeed, but I swear I will do my best."

Shōto nodded once, slowly. "I promise I will support you as best as I can."

That made me smile. Despite being barely a preteen, my friend took everything as serious as an adult.

'That's his father's doing. Being forced to mature years before he should have to.'

Unknowingly, my eyes flickered to his burned side of the face. He noticed, and immediately correctly guessed what I was thinking. "I'm fine."

I didn't argue that he wasn't.

We both knew the day he admitted he wasn't fine, was the day he would crumble.

He wasn't ready to face that demon, yet, and I wouldn't force him to.

Instead, I smiled at him, as warm and certain as I could. I said, "I know you are. I worry needlessly, though."

He cracked a small smile. "You worry more than there are stars in the sky."

My nose crinkled at that. "That is so not true."

◟(◕◡◕❀)

I confessed to Baba and Papa that night about my dreams to go to U.A. and become a professional hero.

Baba smiled at me so widely, her eyes crinkled shut as she hugged me. "I'm so happy for you, dear Kiyomi-chan."

Papa came around the kitchen table to where I sat, and Baba was hugging me, to wrap his large arms around us. "We were worried you would never find your dream. You have no idea how happy you made us tonight, Kiyo-chan."

I lapped up their love, wanting to cherish the moment before I inquired about an uncomfortable subject. "Baba? Papa? Can… can we afford for me to go to U.A.?"

When they did not answer me, I knew what my next step was.

◟(◕◡◕❀)

I stood outside the academy, clutching my pocket-guide of How To Control Your Anxiety by M.P.. The academy was intimidating, and even though it was currently summer break and no students were around, I couldn't resist anxiously checking over my shoulder.

I shoved my wand as far into my holster as I could, and wiped my sweaty hands on my jeans.

Then, mustering up as my determination as I could, I headed inside.

◟(◕◡◕❀)

"U-Um," I began nervously, feeling extremely anxious. My stomach churned, and I felt my face warming underneath the secretary's warm smile. "I-I, um, I w-would like to, um, um—"

"Are you here for a teacher's autograph?" she inquired politely, still smiling warmly. "I'm afraid—"

"No," I answered quickly, my voice cracking a bit. "It's… I, um…"

She waited patiently for me to answer, her eyes softening. "How about we start with your name?"

My shoulders twitched, as I realized (with growing embarrassment) how rude it was of me to not introduce myself first. I bowed to her quickly. "I'm M-Marin Notenshi Kiyomi."

Lava colored my cheeks after I blurted out my entire full name to the young woman.

She placed a hand over her chest. "I'm Umani Natsukiyo Tadara, but you may call me Tadara-nee, okay?"

"Y-Yes, T-Tadara-nee," I croaked out. "P-Please t-tell me about sc-scholarships for the school!"

She smiled widely at me, and was about to respond before she noticed something behind me. Her face lit up, and she stood up from her chair, causing me to turn around. "Welcome back, Nezu-sama!"

I clutched at my book close to my chest, while I turned around to face Nezu, the U.A.'s principle. The small creature leisurely entered the front office, apparently on his way to his own office behind the secretary. He gave her a jovial wave and smile. "Good afternoon, Tadara-chan. Helping this young lady?"

Tadara smiled brightly, nodding her head. "I was about to explain scholarships to her."

That made Nezu pause, and turn to face me fully, smile firm on his face. "Oh, is that so? It's been over a decade since a student was awarded a scholarship to attend U.A.."

My heart skipped a beat, and I felt a nervous sweat on my back. "Wh-What?"

"Mostly because most students who attend here don't need them," Tadara was quick to reassure me.

"Are you wanting to attend U.A. next year?" Nezu asked me, looking me up and down.

I shook my head. "U-Um. I'm only eleven, so I want to attend in a-about four and a half years. My Baba and Papa… um… we're farmers, you see, and while we do fine on our own, U.A., um is a little." I stopped, realizing that I might have offended the principle by calling his school too expensive. Feeling even more nervous, I squeezed tightly at my book and—

"Chapter Five: It's okay to be nervous, everyone gets nervous. If you're too overwhelmed, it's okay to close your eyes and take a deep breath. No one will think less of you for doing so, and those three seconds could be all you need to get back on track."

Recalling the passage, I closed my eyes and took in a long breath. I counted to five before I slowly released it, and re-opened my eyes. Nezu still stood in front of me, smiling just as kindly as before. "It w-would burden my Baba and Papa if I attended here without a scholarship. I-I really don't want to do that to them, s-so please… If there is any way to obtain a scholarship within the next four years, I will do whatever it takes."

"Hm," Nezu hummed. "Are you free right now?"

"Yes, sir!"

Nezu nodded. "Okay. Come with me to my office, and take an exam. If you pass it, then we'll talk."

I was a little caught off guard by that, but seeing no alternative, I did as he said.

◟(◕◡◕❀)

When I finished the exam, Nezu spent about thirty minutes looking over it. My hands ached, and I felt more than a little mentally tired from all the questions. It had been a while since I had challenged myself like that. I had gotten complacent and arrogant from reading M.P.'s books, misbelieving that I was well advanced for my age.

If what was on the exam were things expected of me to know well before I attended the school… I had my work out for myself.

However, I felt confident that I would be able to accomplish it. Most of the things covered in the exams were subjects that M.P. had written about (even if I had not gotten around to that text, yet).

Nezu placed the paper down on his large desk, and sipped some of the tea he had poured for both of us. "Well, well! It looks like I have quite the fan."

I blinked, confused.

Nezu hopped down from his chair, leaving the exam behind and walking over to where I sat at a nearby desk. He pointed at the book that I had kept in my lap. "That's been well-read, I see."

"Y-Yes, sir," I answered hesitantly.

He then pointed towards himself. "I'm M.P.."

My mouth dropped open.

"M.P. stands for Mr. Principle! Haha. Still, it's been awhile since I came across someone who not only read my books, but memorized all of the techniques I wrote about. Not only did you pass the exam with them, but the way you did it could only have been from reading my books."

"I-I have your entire collection," I breathed out, starstruck. "They're all ask for for my birthdays."

That made Nezu chortle. "Ah! How lovely. Would you like me to autograph that copy you have?"

I thrusted it towards him faster than I had ever moved in my entire life.

His tail waved from left to right as he signed his name with a flourish. "Four and a half years, huh? Well, going by your test scores alone you show a lot of promise, but it takes more than that to get into this school."

"L-Let me prove myself to you," I begged. "I'll do whatever it takes."

He nodded, handing me back the book. "That's a nice spirit! I'll give you the chance. Come back here tomorrow at nine. If you pass everything tomorrow, you'll have your scholarship. And as long as you pass the entrance exam when you turn sixteen, you may attend this school."

"Thank you, Nezu-sama!"

He smiled at me. "I look forward to seeing you break a few bones tomorrow!"

"Ye—What?"

◟(◕◡◕❀)

I gave a small moan as I teleported onto Izuku's couch in the living room. Inko and Izuku let out a quiet gasp, surprised by my abrupt appearance. Izuku was at the computer in the living room, and he swiveled his chair around to face me. Inko, though, was on her way to bring Izuku a tray of snacks.

"K-Kiyo-chan, are you okay?" Izuku asked, concerned. "When you didn't show up this morning, I thought you weren't going to come over today."

"I'm fine," I said, slowly sitting up and wincing.

"What happened to you?" Inko asked, immediately starting to fret over me. "You're covered in bruises."

Izuku quickly got up from his spot, his eyes wide as he started to panic. "What? Oh no! Um—I'll get some ice!"

"It's okay," I tried to soothe both of them. "I went to U.A. yesterday to apply for a scholarship. There was a physical portion that I wasn't prepared for and I got a little banged up."

Inko glared at my sling.

Izuku returned with a pack of ice, his face torn between clear worry, and obvious excitement. I grinned at him. "You wanna know about U.A.?"

"Tell me everything," Izuku begged, his fanboy popping out like a hyperactive toddler given an energy drink. "Wait! Don't! Let me get another notebook!"

While he raced away, Inko placed the icepack on my head and tucked back some of my hair. "Kiyo-chan, are you sure you're okay?"

"Mm-hmm! Nothing's broken, but my shoulder did get dislocated," I said dismissively.

"Oh—Oh my—"

"It was so amazing," I continued on, starting to feel my inner fangirl for the amazing Nezu come out.

"Not yet!" Izuku shouted while he ran back down the stairs, tripping over his own feet and scrambling to find a pen.

A minute later my friend hopped onto the couch next to me, eyes shining and pen poised to start taking notes.

"Where do you want me to start?" I asked him.

"What you had for breakfast that day," he told me, perfectly serious.

◟(◕◡◕❀)

Age 12

It had been over a year since I had won my scholarship with Nezu-sensei, and the great man had graciously allowed me to seek out his guidance on certain academic matters. It was not uncommon for me to visit him bi-weekly, even if some of those visits were merely a ten minute hello-hi-you're-awesome-I-love-you-thank-you-oh-my-gosh-I-idolize-you before I had to excuse myself (Hey. If you had the opportunity to meet someone you fangirled hard over, you would pester them as much as you could, too.). Nezu was patient with me, though, and always happy to indulge my visits. He would advise me on which area I should focus my attention on for a while (critical thinking, flexibility, speed, etc). Occasionally, he would even allow me to make tea for him while he gave me a long-winded lecture about one of his books!

Shōto's home life had drastically become more relaxed. Endeavour was frequently called away for special assignments out of the country, and was gone for weeks at a time. It was a great relief to Shōto, and it meant that special tutors took over Endeavour's training for him. These tutors were nowhere near as brutal as Endeavour, and Shōto felt immensely more comfortable with them than his father.

Enough so that towards the end of the year, Shōto introduced me to his tutors in hopes that I could become a sparring partner.

Of course that made me nervous as all hell because I had never, ever sparred with someone before, but Shōto's steady demeanor encouraged me enough to try it.

Every weekend I still hung out with Izuku. The ball of sunshine was beside himself to have someone to talk animatedly about his obsession with heroes. When I told him how I won the scholarship, and that I got to talk with the Nezu, Izuku got so excited for me, he started jumping up and down.

He was so pumped, he insisted that we drew my hero costume that night.

And as ever, I was entirely too weak to that happy smile to say no.

Who in the hell could ever reject someone so full of life and genuine happiness?

◟(◕◡◕❀)

I woke up one morning, the my dream of ambiguous faces and dark skies already fading away into a distant, albeit unpleasant, memory. I had an urge to do something different from my routine, an unexplainable itch that had to be satisfied.

A quick glance at my alarm clock told me it was past eight, so my friends would be up by that point. Although, it was the weekend and as such Shōto would be unavailable to to be with me until extremely late that night. I typically spent my weekend playing with Izuku, or helping Baba and Papa around the farm.

But since I had slept passed my usual alarm (I got up at five most mornings with Baba and Papa), I knew most of the farm work would likely already be done by that point. I felt a little guilty I had slept past my alarm, but I shoved that aside quickly enough. I detested feeling anything less than okay, or happy.

The years of feeling helpless with Shōto's situation gave me plenty of practice of shoving away unsavory thoughts.

I moved quickly to get ready, pulling on my work jeans and a clean red shirt. By the time I was done, Baba and Papa were already done with the farm work for now and were watching a monster movie in the living room. I kissed each of them on the cheek before I teleported to Izuku.

Izuku didn't jump in surprise when I appeared in his kitchen. Inko didn't even pause from washing dishes and handing them to her son.

I beamed at both of them. "Good morning you adorable people."

Inko turned around to smile at me. "Good morning, Kiyo-chan!"

"G-Good morning," Izuku offered, shy smile on his face.

"You ready to go on an adventure?" I asked Izuku.

"Ah—um—?"

"Sounds like fun." Inko beamed. "Take care of my Izuku."

"Always," I said, bowing towards the lady. "Get your shoes, Sunshine."

Izuku hesitated for a moment before doing as I asked. Once he was ready, I grabbed his hand and teleported us to the topmost part of Tokyo Tower.

Izuku screamed and clung onto me. "What are we doing?!"

It was a little hard to hear him over the howling wind. I grinned at him. "Going on an adventure!"

And then I grabbed onto his arm and teleported both of us about ten meters away from Tokyo Tower, high up in the air.

We began to immediately plummet, Izuku screaming in absolute horror, while I giggled in delight at the pleasant adrenaline rush. When we neared the bottom, I teleported both of us right back to the top and the fall continued.

"OH MY GOD STOP PLEASE WHY OH GOD I'M GOING TO DIE NO NONO NOO NO NO NONONONONONO,"

I laughed at my friend, then temporarily let go of his arm. His scream took a turn for a higher pitch and he grabbed both of my hands. We free-fell bellies down, and faces turned up to look at each other for a while. The fifth time I teleported us back to the top, Izuku's screams had died down to the occasional whimper.

The seventh time, and he was giving me a look that was torn between anxiety and annoyance.

I winked at him. "Come on, this isn't even a little fun?"

He gave me what had to be a pout. "Warning would have been nice."

"Never ever," I told him.

Then I teleported both of us into the ocean and we plummeted into the water in a spectacular belly-flop.

Izuku told me he would never go on another adventure with me ever again.

Fortunately for me, he was lying.

◟(◕◡◕❀)

Age 13

I appeared before Shōto, feeling confident and happy. My dearest companion turned his head away from his instructor and offered me a polite head dip. Shōto was currently on the tatami mats doing the splits and stretching under the watchful gaze of his fighting instructor. Endeavour had Shōto practice a blend of different styles, such as jujitsu, boxing, tae kwon do, aikido, and wing chun.

Since Endeavour has begun to spend less at time at home, I was able to leave Shōto's room when I came over. It seemed to be an unspoken rule amongst all members of the household that I would be kept secret from the temperamental hero.

Despite the protection, I still opted to remain in Shōto's room most of the time because I felt most comfortable there, and so did Shōto. The only time I consistently left it with Shōto was on days such as this, where we would spar.

I did not have my own instructor, but I did work hard to learn the wing chun style and some in jujitsu. My style is rusty, at best, but with plenty of practical practice and consistently doing all of my katas, it was steadily improving. The spars were undoubtedly one the best sources I had to learning.

Michiro, a middle-aged man with a hardening Quirk gave me a grunt. "Are you ready, Kiyomi-san?"

"Yeah," I said, then grinned. "Baba got me a new training outfit!"

Shōto stood up, tilting his head slightly. "Congrats."

I beamed at him, then shrugged off my favorite white jacket and placed it on the bench. When I turned back around, Shōto was staring at me with a look of mild horror. I frowned at that. "What?"

"Where's your shirt?" Shōto asked me, his voice cracking and face starting to flush. Michiro guffawed.

I looked down at my training shirt. It ended at the midsection, so I suppose it could be interpreted as a training bra. But I got hot easily and I hated the feeling of clothes sticking to me, so it seemed perfectly reasonable to me to opt for something that would keep me cooler. Besides, it was certainly more covering than a bathing suit.

I cocked my head at Shōto. "This is my shirt."

"Wha-at."

Michiro slapped Shōto hard on the back. "Enough ogling, boy." Shōto was mortified by his words. "Get in there."

The two of us stepped onto the mat and bowed once towards Michiro. Shōto still looked distinctly uncomfortable, his eyes locked onto my own gaze and seemingly refusing to look anywhere else.

His reaction was partially amusing to me, but a little worrying, too. Did it bother him that much?

"Begin!"

We moved in the same instant, our bodies twisting and conforming as we settled into a familiar rhythm. For many minutes the only sound heard was skin slapping against skin, along with the occasional grunt. Neither of us had the obvious advantage, which was a first. Typically after ten minutes into the spar, Shōto would have been able to pin me, or at least press for an advantage. It wasn't that I was bad, certainly not, but he was simply that talented with hand-to-hand combat.

That day, however, Shōto repeatedly hesitated. I even deliberately created openings when I realized such, and he did not take any of them. His face was perpetually flushed, and when his hand snapped out and accidentally brushed my right boob, his entire body froze.

Mercilessly, I took advantage and delivered a decisive kick that caused my friend to sprawl to the ground.

Shōto landed gracelessly, his face growing red.

He had touched my breasts before during spars (accidents were bound to happen, and the chest was a good area to go for no matter the gender), but he had never reacted quite so oddly. I felt the urge to tease him if puberty had finally come for him, but decided against it since he was already so flustered.

Michiro howled with laughter. "Boy, did you only realize now she was a girl?"

Shōto immediately glared at Michihiro, his cheeks still rosy. "Sh-Shut up."

"C'mon, Shōto," I encouraged. "Let's try that again, okay?"

And although Shōto never reacted quite the same way again after that, for the next few months he still had this unreadable look on his face whenever I came over.

◟(◕◡◕❀)

I had successfully landed a part time job in the city that housed U.A., (the same city that Izuku and Shōto lived in, actually). The job was mostly to keep myself busy, and earn a little extra cash. I initially wanted to give the money to Baba and Papa, but the two categorically rejected the idea. They still made plenty off of Baba's books, and Papa was able to provide for us well enough through his farm. It was certainly not like our family would go starving any night, given how tight-knit our community was.

If someone's crops failed one season, everyone pitched in a portion of their food to the family.

Still, I was determined to be of some assistance to them. I kept the job as strictly part time so I could continue to assist Papa around the farm and do the heavy lifting for the man. There were some days that Papa would even "loan" me out to some of our neighbors (not that I complained at all, I loved them dearly).

The job was at a family-friendly maid cafe (hence why I was allowed to work there, despite being a teenager). Most of our customers were mothers with their children, but we did serve some men, and teenagers.

None of our outfits were risque, by any means, but they were frilly, feminine and utterly adorable. Our boss was next level adorable, too, with a charming smile and and a charismatic attitude that had any customer melting in her hands.

It went without saying that the business was a popular one—expanded to three stories—and most late afternoons and early mornings were ridiculously busy.

I was never bored working there, and by constantly going to the city for my job, I was able to learn a bit more about it every trip. Since I wanted to attend U.A., I thought it was important that I become well-acquainted with the environment surrounding it.

(If I was being entirely honest, though, I took the job to get over my damn anxiety when talking with strangers, per Nezu's suggestion. He had actually been the one to set up the interview for me.)

One afternoon, it was relatively quiet at the cafe. It was a weekday, so most of our clients were at work or school. Things typically picked up around three in the afternoon every day, so around noon to one, the cafe was relatively empty.

When the front door swung open, and the bell chimed throughout the pink dolly-filled cafe, I turned to greet our guest. I bowed lowly. "W-Welcome back, Master."

Upon straightening up, I was delighted to find it was Izuku, who wore a small smile on his face. He seemed unusually nervous, though. "A-Ah, thank you Kiyo-chan."

I figured out the reason he was nervous soon enough, because following him into the cafe were a few of his classmates. I vaguely recognized the one with pale blond hair, and a sneer on his face. "This is where you go to everyday after school?"

"N-Not every day," Izuku protested quietly.

I smiled warmly at the guests, bowing again. "Welcome, Masters. Are you friends with Izuku-sama?"

The blond's sneer stretched wider across his face. "You fucking mean Deku?"

"If you are friends with Izuku-sama, then the first round of drinks is on me," I offered politely, still smiling. For an odd reason, I felt instantly happy to see the blond boy. I felt like I knew him, and that he had a decent heart, or was at least was someone I could trust.

The three boys exchanged glances before looking over at the fidgeting Izuku. The blond finally shrugged. "Who the hell can say no to free drinks?"

I beamed, gesturing for them to follow me. I lead the quartet up the stairs to a table that oversat by the large window. I handed them each a menu, patting Izuku on the shoulder once I had done so. "Usual?"

Izuku mutely nodded, clutching at his green notebook.

"I'll have whatever Deku has," the blond boy declared, smirking as Izuku flushed. The other two boys murmured agreement to that, and I left to make their drinks.

When I returned, I placed a drink in front of each them before pulling up a chair and sitting beside Izuku. "My manager said it was okay for me to take a small break. How was school?"

"Fine," Izuku said, glancing over at his friends. "Um. This is Kacchan—"

My eyes lit up as Kacchan snarled at Izuku. "Oh! I've heard so much about you, Kacchan. It's so nice to meet you. I hope we'll become good friends in class together."

"It's Bakugō Katsuki not Kacchan," he snapped, a scowl morphing his face into something familiar. "What the hell do you mean in class? Are you transferring?"

"No," I admitted, "but Izu-chan said that you would be going to U.A., right? I'm going there, too!"

Izuku smiled at me, nodding firmly. "Yeah! Kiyo-chan even has a recommendation letter from a hero! He's paying for her tuition, too."

I giggled, thinking back fondly of Nezu. "Mm-hmm. So we'll be classmates!"

"A recommendation?" Katsuki repeated, "You're good, then?"

That made me smirk. "The only way I'll keep my recommendation is by consistently scoring within the top percentage while I'm there. I mean you no offense, Katsuki-kun, but you won't be number one while I'm attending."

"Ha," Katsuki snorted, slamming his hands on the table and leaning towards me. "That's a big fucking mouth you got there. You better keep those words to yourself because I will be the undisputable number one."

"Really," I said disbelievingly, ignoring how Izuku and the two others were inching away from the both of us. "How about you put your money where your mouth is, Bocchan*?"

A smirk stretched across his lips. "What do you have in mind, Busu*?"

Nonplussed, I said, "One year. You have one year to figure out every aspect of my Quirk."

"What?"

"You're a genius, right?" I purred. "Surely you can do this much. The rules are simple: don't ask anyone about it, and every week when you come here I will not only treat you to a free drink, but I'll answer one yes or no question about my Quirk. If you manage to figure it out one year from now… I'll be your personal maid for the first month of school at U.A., but if you don't figure it out you have to treat me to lunch every day for the first month!"

"How lame," Katsuki scoffed. "There's no fucking—"

"Oh. Too hard?" I sighed. "Guess you really won't be much competition."

"Shut the fuck up before I kill you! Your deal is on. Enjoy your freedom while it fucking lasts, Busu."

◟(◕◡◕❀)

I rested my head on Shōto's shoulder, closing my eyes. It was restless night for me. I woke up several times, covered in sweat and feeling terrified out of my mind. I couldn't remember what I was dreaming about, only that it was frightening and it made my heart ache.

Without thinking too much on it, I teleported to Shōto's room, unsurprised to find my friend awake and reading in his bed. He barely spared me a glance when I crawled into his bed and curled up beside him.

"Bad dream?" Shōto asked after almost an hour of me not-really-dozing-but-kinda-dozing on his shoulder.

Lifting my head, I looked over at him, assessing his tired eyes. "Can't sleep."

"I had no idea. The question still remains: why can't you sleep?"

I stuck my tongue out at his sarcastic answer. "I dunno. Bad dreams. I don't even remember what they're about, but I get all anxious thinking about them."

Shōto closed his book, and set it on his other side. "Anything I can do?"

"Can I stay here tonight?"

"Yes."

I turned my head and smiled at him. "Thank you."

◟(◕◡◕❀)

"It's time for another adventure."

Izuku didn't even blink when I said that, instead he reached over and grabbed our handy dandy adventure backpack. A backpack that looked like it had been through a tornado, hurricane, then had a building fall on top of it, yet was somehow still holding together. It was filled to the brim with essentials for going on an adventure: first aid, rations, water, rags, matches, Chester the Comfort Cat, a flare gun, vapor rub, and of course an All Might action figure.

After a little over a year of forcibly kidnapping Izuku to partake in misadventures with me, the cinnamon roll had resigned himself. The first few months he was an anxious wreck, but it didn't take too long for him to start to sincerely enjoy the expeditions and excitement we went through.

I wished I could take Shōto with me on an adventure, but since we rarely got to hang out during the day (unless it was for sparing: something of which he would not be able to get out from) he was usually tired and didn't want to do much other than relax. It wasn't uncommon for Shōto to fall asleep while I was talking to him, his head dropping down into my lap or on my shoulder with a quiet sigh. I was never offend or bothered when he did so. I knew he had a stressful day and going to sleep was never easy for him, so the fact that I could help my dearest friend at all was wonderful.

I was, however, able to take him sky-falling with me a few times.

He loved it.

Izuku slung the backpack over his shoulder. "So where to now?"

I grinned at him and offered my hand. He grabbed it, giving it a good squeeze before I brought us to a decent campsite by a large river where there were groups of people milling around in swimsuits.

Izuku looked around at the seemingly normal place, a frown marring his face while I tugged on his hand and had him follow me over to a booth. "What are we doing today?"

"Whitewater rafting."

"Oh," he squeaked out, starting to look nervous again.

◟(◕◡◕❀)

Age 14

I woke up with a start, sweat soaking through my pajamas and into my sheets. The vivid memories replayed over and over in my head, and I knew I had to do something about them.

Even if I could no longer understand them.

Quickly, I summoned my wand from inside of me and I teleported to Nezu's office. Despite it being early in the morning, Nezu was perfectly awake and well-groomed as he went through paperwork. He looked up upon realizing I had entered his office, and greeted me with a cheerful wave. "Good morning, Kiyo-chan! Ah, you're soaking, whatever is wrong?"

"I—I don't," I stumbled, my brow furrowed. Nezu hopped out of his chair and hurried over to me, ushering for me to sit down on his couch. I flopped down with a sigh, rubbing at my face. "I had this dream, and I feel like I need to tell you. I, I dreamed about All Might and my friend, Izuku. I think they need to meet. I think they need to meet really bad."

As Nezu began making tea, he hummed. "Can you elaborate?"

"Well," I began, feeling uncertain, "it's weird. But there was this guy, and he was All Might, except he didn't look anything like All Might does on television. He was all wasted away, super skinny, and bony. When he lifted up his shirt there was this horrible scar on his left side, and he said that because of it… I guess he has to find the ninth? I don't know! But Izuku was there, and he was crying and All Might said that Izuku had to inherit One for All, whatever that means. He made Izuku eat some hair, and then things got really scary all of a sudden. There was this other guy and Izuku called him All for One, and… and then I woke up."

Nezu forced a cup of tea into my trembling hands, and he sat down on the couch beside me. "Interesting. Do you have these dreams often?"

"Um. I-I think so? I don't always remember them," I confessed quietly. "Is it… should I not have told you? I mean was it…?"

"Kiyo-chan," Nezu began softly, "would you do me a favor and have your friend come to the academy tomorrow?"

I blinked at that. "Wha—ah, yeah."

Nezu patted my leg. "Drink your tea, Kiyo-chan, and collect yourself. You did well to tell me about your dream, and I thank you for entrusting it to me. Everything will be okay now."

Relief flooded through at me at my teacher's words, and I felt tension drain away from me. "Oh, oh good."

"I will always have an open door for you if you want to talk to me, and I will do my best to help you," Nezu promised.

My eyes burned. "Th-Thank you, Sensei. I wouldn't… I owe so much to you. Thank you."

"Drink your tea, Kiyo-chan."

"Yes, Sensei."

◟(◕◡◕❀)

I brought Izuku along with me to the academy. Upon arriving, Izuku released my hand and gasped. "It's… It's so glamorous!"

A smile bloomed across my face for my friend. "I'm really glad you like it. Come on, I'll take you to Nezu-sensei."

Izuku gulped nervously, his face pale. "R-Right."

I looked him over. "Do you want to hold my hand some more?"

"N-No.," he answered quickly, raising his favorite notebook and clutching it to his chest. "Do you, um, know what he wants with me?"

Shaking my head, I began to lead Izuku through the school halls. "No, but don't worry. You can trust Nezu-sensei."

Izuku fell quiet at that, anxiously looking around the mostly empty school. He remained silent all the way until I lead him to Nezu's office. Tadara motioned for us to enter, and I opened the door and ushered Izuku inside.

Izuku gasped. "All Might!"

I turned around at that, surprised to find none other than All Might standing proudly in the middle of the office.

Nezu waved at us. "Hello! You must Kiyo-chan's friend, Izuku-kun."

"Y-Y-Yes!"

"Kiyo-chan," Nezu said, looking over at me, "why don't you head off to work? We'll see to it that your friend makes it home."

"Ah, okay. Bye-bye! It was nice seeing you, All Might-san."

All Might gave me a blinding smile. "Thank you for bringing your friend here, Kiyomi-chan!"

I bowed, and smiled brightly. "You're kinda charming, All Might-san! No wonder all the girls have crushes on you."

All Might gave me a booming laugh, and I took that moment to leave.

◟(◕◡◕❀)

After work, I stopped by Shōto's home, greeting my friend with an excited hug. "Sho-chan! Sho-chan, look!" Shōto patted my back, while I hopped up and down excitedly. "I won employee of the month!"

Shōto gave me a small smile. "Congratulations, Kiyo."

I nodded my head happily. "Mm-hmm. You know when Nezu-sensei told me to work there, I was a little skeptical. But he was right! I love working there now. I mean, don't get me wrong, I still wanna be a pro hero, but I'm really happy with my part time job, too."

"It's good to find things to do that make you happy."

Nodding in agreement, I hooked my arm through his. "So I was thinking we could go out for dinner to celebrate. My treat."

"Ah, I won't be able to, actually," Shōto apologized, a dark look flickering across his face. "My father will be arriving tonight and he expects an evaluation."

I winced. "No way out of it?"

"You know how he is," Shōto said quietly.

With a sigh, I stepped back from my friend. "I'm sorry, Sho-chan. I'll come by around midnight to check on you, so please take care of yourself."

Shōto snorted, looking away.

I reached over and squeezed his shoulder. "I mean it. Take care of yourself. You're one of my precious people, and I hate seeing you get hurt."

He shrugged my hand away, shoving his hands in his pocket. "I know."

◟(◕◡◕❀)

I gently set down Katsuki's drink. Like with Izuku, Katsuki had earned essentially forever first free drinks while I was on service (the boss merely deducted it from my pay, which was fine). Even after finishing our little wager, he would pop in about once a week to take advantage of the free drinks (and occasionally free food if he felt persistent enough. It was hard to say no to him. Really hard. Crazy hard. Like holy hell it was hard). He typically came in with Izuku, berating him all the way until I came over and played mediator.

Then his attention would switch onto questions about U.A., how many connections I had, what I knew about the entrance exam, etc (he demanded copies of some of Nezu's texts, since Nezu was the one who created the written exams for all year groups at U.A.. It would be obvious that the questions from the written exams would be in relation to the texts Nezu had written). Sometimes All Might would pop into the conversation and both boys would be distracted talking about him, comparing his past fights, until one of them decided to leave first (almost always Katsuki).

Their relationship struck me as warm, even if Katsuki verbally abused both of us. I couldn't shake the feeling that they both cared a great deal about one another and that if push came to shove, Katsuki would fight to defend Izuku. When I thought about where that feeling came from, an odd image stuck in my mind. The two boys were slightly beat up, sitting down in a semi-destroyed street while a man who was too bony, too skinny, and too fragile-looking lectured them. The man's vibrant blue eyes and blond hair reminded me of someone, although I couldn't place it.

Katsuki looked up from one of the texts he had borrowed from me. It the one on quantum physics, and it was filled with sticky notes. There were parts of the book I still didn't understand, so Nezu had me write down my questions, and during his free time he would borrow my book and fill the questions with answers in equally brightly colored sticky notes (he had adorable handwriting).

He stared at the drink for a moment, frown tugging down on his lips. "This shit going to be on the exam?"

I pulled my dress towards me, tucking it in as I sat in the chair beside him. "Um. Nezu-sensei's exams have a lot of theoretical questions. So while quantum physics may not be on there precisely…"

"I get it," Katsuki muttered, looking back down at the book. "Shit, you had a lot of fucking questions. There's more sticky notes than fucking textbook."

I rubbed the back of my head sheepishly, smiling awkwardly. "Yeah. I read that book before I read his other critical thinking books."

"Idiot. Why would you do that?"

Not really having an answer, I shrugged. "How was school?"

"Fine. Why the fuck would it be any different?"

"You would say it was a fine school day if you got into a fight with fifteen other students and beat the snot outta them," I pointed out.

Not disagreeing with that point, Katsuki snorted and looked back down at the book.

I placed both my elbows on the table, and leaned my face into my hands, peering at him. "Hey. This just occured to me, but do you… maybe not have a U.A. library pass?"

"Of course I fucking don't, I'm not a student, nor am I the principle's little pet."

"You don't have to be a student to go to the library," I told him. "The first level of the library is public access."

That made him pause, and he looked back up at me.

I smiled. "I get off in an hour. If you can wait that long, I'll take you to the library and we'll get you a pass."

He gave a grunt that I took as an affirmation.

◟(◕◡◕❀)

When my shift ended, I changed into my regular clothes and tucked my maid outfit in my worn, beat-up pink backpack. I changed out into one of my dresses (today it was red, with a white bow around the middle) that Baba made for me. Baba loved making clothes for me, and she had very feminine and cutesy tastes, which rubbed off on me. I slipped on my white sandals, and released my long bubblegum pink (like Baba) hair from its pigtails.

Leaving the work room, I made my way outside the cafe where Katsuki waited for me, his hands shoved in his pocket and his backpack slung over one of his shoulders. I smiled at him, and held out my right hand. "Ready to go?"

He stared at my hand for a moment, brow furrowed and lips twisted into a sneer.

"I need physical contact to bring anyone along with me when I teleport," I elaborated.

With a grimace, Katsuki placed his hand in my own, and in the blink of an eye we stood at the entrance to U.A.'s library. He immediately snapped his hand out of my own, looking around the massive library with wide eyes. It was six stories tall, filled with U.A. colors, mementos, and (most importantly) books! There were scattered chairs and couches around the library that many students were currently utilizing.

I tugged on his arm, forcefully pulling him along with me to greet Nekona, who was the head librarian. The cat-like woman purred warmly at both of us when she noticed our approach. "Ah, Kiyo-chan, is this yourrr boyfriend?"

"Don't be silly, Nee-chan," I dismissed, pulling Katsuki up front with me. "This is Bakugō Katsuki, and he would like a public library pass. He'll be my future classmate here when I attend U.A."

"How wondurrrfull," Nekona purred, her cat-like head cocking to the right side. "Bakugō-kun, then? Won't you be a dearrr and stand up against that wall overrr there? I'll need to take yourrr picturrre."

Katsuki obliged, although he refused to smile for his picture. It didn't take long for Nekona to print out his library card, and Katsuki took it with surprisingly careful hands. He may have been rough around the edges, but he was sincere in wanting to attend U.A. and become a hero.

I told him to let me know he was done and that I would take him home. He gave me a disgusted look and said he would be fine going alone. Deciding not to push his temper, I chose to leave and head home myself.

◟(◕◡◕❀)

When I appeared before Izuku per usual, I was surprised to find him working at a beach covered in garbage. Izuku didn't even notice me while he struggled to move several large pieces of equipment.

"Working hard, huh?" I heard a soft murmur.

I turned to my right to find a familiar looking man with a bony body and warm blue eyes. I let out a quiet gasp, and the man startled and turned back around. I pointed at him. "You're a cinnamon roll!"

He blinked."What?"

I beamed at him. "Your heart is a cinnamon roll. You're a sweetie, aren't you?"

"Ah," the man began, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly, "Uh? I hope so?"

I smiled at him. "Good. Are you friends with Izu-chan?"

"Er—"

"Kiyo-chan?"

My head snapped around to find Izuku panting heavily and looking up at me in confusion. Then his eyes widened and he gasped. "Oh! I'm so sorry, I forgot that we're supposed to go on adventure. Can I postpone that for a bit? I'm so, so, so sorry!"

A smile lit up on my face and I hopped down onto the beach. "It's okay, Izu-chan! I get the feeling this is something important to you. I'll support you however I can."

Izuku beamed at me. "Thanks, Kiyo-chan. Ah… this is…"

"Cinnamon Roll-san?" I asked, looking back up at Cinnamon Roll.

Cinnamon Roll smiled nervously. "Y-Yes. That's my name."

"Wow, really?" I said, not entirely believing him but deciding to go along with it since it seemed like a perfectly fitting name for the man. "I'm Kiyomi, but my friends call me Kiyo. Let's become friends, okay?"

Cinnamon Roll nodded quietly, still smiling anxiously. "Yes. Okay."

I clapped my hands together. "Good! I'll grab us some food."

"Thanks, Kiyo-chan," Izuku thanked me.

◟(◕◡◕❀)

"I can't believe the exams will be coming up in a year," I told Shōto one night, sitting beside him on his bed. Shōto's head rested on my shoulder, and he seemed ready to fall asleep at any moment. We made the mistake of putting on a movie first thing when I arrived.

Shōto could never make it through a movie without falling asleep.

Shōto murmured, "Mm. Yeah. You ready?"

"As all I ever be. Do you want to meet up the morning of the exam and have breakfast together?"

"Yes," he answered, and then he closed his eyes and did not open them again for the rest of the night.

◟(◕◡◕❀)

"Why do you always call Izu-chan Deku? It's rather rude." I carefully sat down Katsuki's free decadent drink, and he gave me a sneer.

"Because it suits him."

"Don't be such a brat, Bocchan," I told him.

"Who the fuck are you calling a brat?" Katsuki snarled, slamming both his hands on the table as he stood up. Thankfully, I seated him at the top floor, far away from our regular guests and their adorable children.

"You shouldn't call Izu-chan Deku," I said with a huff. "If anything call him Sunshine, or Cinnamon Roll Jr."

He snorted and sat back down. "Fuck off, don't you have any other customers?"

"Stop calling Izu-chan Deku, or else you won't get your free cake today," I threatened him.

He gave me a disbelieving look. "You would never."

"Try me."

Then he gave me The Look.

Now, Katsuki didn't beg. He didn't do puppy dog eyes, or anything even remotely close it. When Katsuki wanted something, and his blusters/threats/violence either failed or wasn't an option he resorted to The Look. For most of his life he only used the The Look on his mother, but since I had wormed my way onto the painfully short list of people-he-tolerates, he had been using The Look on me.

I stared at The Look and I felt my resolve crumbling away. "... Fine."

He smirked at me.

"Still think you shouldn't call him Deku."

"Still don't care."

◟(◕◡◕❀)

"Morning Cinnamon Roll-san! Morning Izu-chan!" I greeted both happily. Izuku had finished cleaning the beach up a while ago (which was impressive), but they both still used the area to have Izuku run around and lift weights. I had done my best to stay out of the way, but with little else to do on the weekends (if I randomly showed up front of Katsuki, he was liable to throw me into a river, and Shōto had to spend the weekends doing intensive training), I frequently found myself sitting beside Cinnamon Roll and watching Izuku, or running beside Izuku.

Cinnamon Roll was as sweet as his name implied. He seemed a little nervous having me hang around at first, but he relaxed over time.

Izuku beamed at me, popping back up from his push ups. "Kiyo-chan!"

"Good morning, Kiyo-chan," CInnamon Roll greeted me.

I proudly held out the three-tiered bento box Baba and I had made. "I've brought breakfast. Can you spare a moment?"

"Sure thing," Izuku said easily, jogging over to where I stood beside Cinnamon Roll.

Cinnamon Roll looked around. "Where should we eat?"

I handed Cinnamon Roll the bento box. "I've got a picnic blanket we can use. Be right back."

A quick teleportation home and back, and I proudly presented the tattered checkered picnic blanket. Izuku grimaced upon seeing it, no doubt recalling the time I tried to use as a parachute during a free fall.

It did not work out very well.

We set up our picnic blanket and food and enjoyed a very lovely breakfast.

◟(◕◡◕❀)

I appeared behind Shōto, my friend seemingly only then finishing putting on his pajamas (plain white t-shirt with navy blue sweats). My arms snaked around him and I hugged him tightly. Shōto placed both of his hands on top of my arms, and with ease I teleported us high above Tokyo Tower.

Shōto didn't startle, but I knew he would be smiling as we started to freefall. Falling was one of his favorite things to do. He told me how he loved the weightless feeling, and the pleasant drop in his stomach. As we neared the ground, I heard a small laugh escape him, and a grin stretched across my face at the action.

I adored making him laugh.

When I brought us back up at the top, we readjusted so we only had to hold each other's hands as we fell. His eyes shined with amusement, and there was an infectious smile on his face.

Again and again I brought us back up to the top. After the twentieth time, where the rush was not quite as fierce, I brought us back to his room.

We fell onto his bed, and Shōto rolled over to smile at me. "Thank you."

"Any time," I promised him.

"Always and always?"

"Always and always."

◟(◕◡◕❀)

Age 15

At long, long last it was time for the U.A. entrance exam. The night before the exam, I anxiously ran around the house. Excitement kept me from going to sleep at any decent hour.

Even when I did finally settle into bed (Baba and Papa had to practically hold me down), it did not last long.

"Good morning!" I shouted with utter excitement, throwing myself into Shōto's arms. The groggy boy barely reacted to my hug-tackle, since he was never a morning person. I could barely sleep the night before the exam, so pumped up and excited for it. As soon as my clock read 6:30, I hopped out of bed and started getting ready.

I tried to tame my curly bubble gum pink hair (it was long and seemed to be perpetually messy, no matter what I did with it. The curls would sometimes stick up at odd ends, like I had just rolled out of bed, or something. It was crazy embarrassing at times), giving up on it after ten minutes. Then I brushed my teeth, slipped on my white sweats, a pink long-sleeved shirt with the picture of a magical girl on it waving her wand, and white sneakers before grabbing my scarf and coat and teleporting straight to Shōto.

My friend had barely finished getting ready before I tackled into him.

"Ugh," Shōto moaned, staring bleary-eyed at me. The night owl took his time before waking up every day. "Why did I agree to get up this early?"

"So we can have breakfast together before the exam," I exclaimed, hopping up and down. "Come on, come on! Where do you wanna go? Panery's? Chochoo?"

"I don't care. I want to go back to bed."

"You can't. It's too late," I stated firmly, teleporting us to Panery's. "You better eat, too, or I'll steal your boxers again."

"Leave my boxers alone," he grouched.

"Only if you eat," I promised him.

He mumbled something under his breath (likely along the lines of troublesome or not worth or maybe even a despair-filled why), while I tugged him into line. Then I shoved my scarf into his arms, so I could slip on my red wool coat and button it up. Once that was done, I looked over at my friend, realizing that he didn't grab a coat.

"You're not wearing a coat on purpose, aren't you?" I asked him, eyeing him up and down. He kept to a simple gray sweater, and dark jeans.

"The cold doesn't bother me," Shōto said.

"Liar," I told him, then proceeded to wrap my scarf around him. "As long as you choose not use that other side of yours, you're as affected by the cold as I am. So hold onto that for me, okay? I won't accept it back until after the exam."

Shōto tugged down on the pink scarf, giving me a petulant look.

I beamed at him and grabbed his hand. "Now it's time to eat!"

I felt a buzz in my pocket, and I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone.

Good luck! Izuku texted me.

A smile lit up my face. I'll see you there! I'll introduce you to my future husband. ;)

Izuku immediately replied back: I feel so sorry for him.

I couldn't resist laughing at that, and Shōto gave me a curious look. I offered my phone to him and he read over the messages before snorting and handing it back to me.

Shōto then blinked, as if realizing something. He pulled out something from his pocket and held it out to me. "I got a phone, now."

I gasped. "You actually bought a phone? I never would have guessed you'd give into peer pressure."

He gave me a irritable look. "I never needed a phone since I hardly left the compound. Put your number in."

I laughed at my friend's annoyance, before doing as told and handing it back to him. He fiddled with it for a moment before I felt my phone ding.

Hello. This is Shōto Todoroki.

My lips twitched as I fought to keep my grin in check. "You're a dork."

Shōto frowned at that.

"In fact, you're a-dork-able!"

"I'm not having breakfast with you now."

"Aww."

◟(◕◡◕❀)

Cramming 15 years in 50 pages was surprisingly fun. Next chapter will start off exactly at the exams.

Question: What Quirk would you want?

Reviews are love!