༉˚*ೃ ᵒ⁴. 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄!

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐏 of girls—it should have been a crime, that there were only seven of them versus the thirteen boys—joined the other statistic of their class as they walked through the gymnasium hall, heading out towards the large U.A. field, sports uniforms on. Tsubame much preferred these, with the soft, sweat-absorbent blue fabric, short sleeves, and pants. Much less stuffy than the usual U.A. uniform, and with no irritating collar.

          "I wonder what's going to happen," said Yaoyorozu with a hint of nerves, slim hand curled and clutched vulnerably towards her chest, eyes unsure.

          Bakugou had taken the lead by a fair amount, clearly not wanting to walk with the rest of his classmates, and offered the mean scoff of, "Fucking extras." The group of twenty pooled out of one of U.A. gym's many exits, towards the sport field. The ground here was packed tight, fit for athletics of all kind. Tsubame joyed in the feeling of her running sneakers pressing against the earth. Their teacher—Aizawa—was waiting for them with that same, disinterested, tired expression, bags beneath his eyes shadowed in the bright morning sun and chin tucked into that strange scarf-like object slung around his neck. The murmuring of classmates still getting to know each other under such odd circumstances came to a silence as their feet stopped in front of their teacher, awaiting direction.

          "You should get here faster," were Aizawa-sensei's first words, not entirely encouraging. We were lost... Tsubame thought, but didn't dare say anything aloud. The teacher sighed again. His black eyes scanned over his students, who probably looked like a sorry mess in comparison to the heroes he'd trained over the years—had he trained heroes? It was expected of staff at U.A., but this man looked like he could barely keep awake in front of a group of twenty fifteen-to-sixteen-year-olds. "Punctuality is crucial for heroes. That is why this morning you'll be undertaking an evaluation specific to the Hero Course." His voice paused momentarily, perhaps for dramatic effect, perhaps because he just couldn't bring himself to care. Tsubame wasn't the best at deciphering tones already, and his monotonous drawl made it even more difficult. "A Quick assessment test."

          What? Assessment already?

          "A Quirk assessment test?!" Tsubame's voice rung out, surprised and indignant, along with the echo of her other nineteen classmates. It was a united cry that was somewhere between a groan and a shout. This was bad. Tsubame was bad at tests. She needed to study a lot to get anything through her head, and the way their teacher was eyeing them in an unimpressed manner told her all she needed to know about the prospect of having time to study. By the distressed look on several of her other classmates' faces—Kaminari, Ashido, and Uraraka stuck out the most—, they were experiencing the exact same line of thinking.

          Kaminari pressed a stressed hand against his forehead. "I'm no good at assessments!"

          "I'm going to fail for sure..." Tsubame's groan was said lowly, but was still loud enough for the classmates around her to hear. Luckily, Aizawa-sensei seemed to not pick up on her comment. She was tapping her fingers anxiously against her hip. They sped up at the idea.

          "Do you dumbasses ever listen?" Once again, Bakugou was the one interrupting his classmates' line of thought to deliver a mean reality check. Tsubame's nose scrunched at the use of, 'ever', as if he'd known them for more than twenty minutes tops. He already thought he had them pinned down. "It's a Quirk assessment test. We're on a sports field. Which means I'm going to crush you." It was true, her mind had latched onto the word 'test' without the rest of it shifting through her brain, but he didn't have to be such an asshole about it. His murderous eyes flickered between Kaminari and Tsubame, who were already standing close side-by-side, and at his gaze, Kaminari sunk back to hide behind her shorter figure.

          "He's scary," the shorter blond sighed, voice high and whining with exasperation.

          Tsubame's yellow eyes rolled as the other, angrier, blond snarled and turned back around to pay attention to their teacher. "Whatever, he's all talk." An exhale sharply left her nose. "If he tries something on you, just come running to me. I'm not scared to put him in the dirt." She nudged Kaminari lightly in the side with her elbow, shooting him a lopsided smile, proving that she meant her word.

          Kaminari's face brightened up, a crooked grin that rivalled Tsubame's pulling at the edge of his mouth. "It's Akatsuki-san, right? You know, what I said about you being pretty earlier is true, you could be in those commercials with Uwabami—"

          "If you're done talking," droned their teacher's voice, and Kaminari's mouth was quick to snap shut with an audible sound. Tsubame, who had been ready to give back a teasing response, did the same. Both of their yellow eyes shot towards the front, where Aizawa was giving them a bored expression. Shit. Shit. Kaminari seemed to be having the same panicked thought process as her, because both students straightened and squared their shoulders. He stopped hiding from Bakugou behind her. With the absolute intensity of their teacher's gaze, Tsubame suddenly got the terrible thought that she and Kaminari were going to get sent back inside, or be graded an instant fail. What the fuck was she doing, chatting about like she wasn't in class? Stupid brain. Her finger began their anxious, mechanical, rapid tap against her skin, a buzzing thrum. This is why you never do well in school, Tsubame. Thankfully, despite the disapproving look, Aizawa-sensei's gaze turned back towards the rest of his class. It gave Tsubame and Kaminari's muscles time to gradually relax. "It's as Bakugou said, this test will assess your physical Quirk capabilities—not academically." Several students exhaled breaths of relief, while several others tensed up. It was a mixed bag.

          Uraraka spoke out, her voice confused, "What about the opening ceremony? The orientation?" All students were holding matching confused expressions—Tsubame was surrounded by taller boys, Kirishima at her other side, who were all looking bewildered with parted mouths and wide eyes. This day at U.A. was proving to be one of Tsubame's strangest. Never in a million years could she imagine that the orientation day of Japan's greatest hero school would unfold like this.

          The homeroom teacher continued in that same disinterested, monotonous drawl, "If you're going to become a hero, you don't have time for such leisurely events." A couple of students muttered to one another. "U.A.'s selling point is how unrestricted its school traditions are. That's also how the teachers run their classes." Tsubame would have zero issue with this if she hadn't had absolutely no idea what to expect with their teacher who'd showed up in a sleeping bag. It seemed to make the other students nervous too—Uraraka had her clenched hands raised uneasily in front of her and shifted her weight from foot to foot like the ground was burning her. "You kids have been doing these since junior high, too, right? Physical tests where you weren't allowed to use your Quirks."

          The class nodded along, Tsubame included. Physical tests were her strength—and anything was better than academics.

          "The country still uses averages taken from results from students not using their Quirks," their teacher continued. "It's not rational. Well, the Ministry of Education is procrastinating." His gaze turned to a certain shitty-tempered student. "Bakugou, you finished at the top of the practical exam, correct?" The red-eyed blond boy made a sound of surprised acknowledgement, raising his chin a little. Of course he did, Tsubame's brain conjured bitterly. All eyes turned towards him—from Kaminari at Tsubame's right, Kirishima at her left, and the red-and-white-haired student just past him. "In junior high, what was your best result for the softball throw?"

         Bakugou replied calmly, "67 meters." Tsubame pursed her lips with displeasure at the fact that the boy outranked her own score by several single digits. 49 meters wasn't much in comparison.

          "Then," Aizawa-sensei said, "try doing it with your Quirk."

          He threw a softball to Bakugou, who caught it deftly with one hand. Then the bastard's expression of aloof confusion changed to a determined grin. Class 1-A crowded around, most keeping their distance with Bakugou's angry disposition, as he lined up within a drawn white circle on a pitch. From what Tsubame had picked up so far, his Quirk consisted of being able to produce explosions from his hands—though she'd only seen that when he was aiming them at her, so it was possible there was more. She crossed her arms and gave him a stern look. Kirishima, at her side, smiled crookedly at her expression, catching her eye.

          Bakugou stood in the centre of the painted circle, clutching the softball in his right hand. "You can do whatever you want as long as you stay in the circle," instructed Aizawa. "Hurry up. Give it all you've got."

          The blond boy stretched his arms, rolling his shoulders and confidently planting his sneaker forward into the dirt. His hands, clutching the ball, raised towards the sky. Then, that same manic grin that he'd had when arguing with Tsubame earlier was pulling itself across Bakugou's face, and he was launching his body forward at incredible speed, toe hitting the white line and stopping as the rest of his form followed through with the motion. Impeccable softball form. Bakugou's arm followed through, flinging with strong muscles, an explosion ringing in his hand with his wild shout of, "DIE...!" as the ball launched into the—metaphorical—stratosphere.

          "Die...?" Midoriya repeated with big eyes.

          The ball exploded up through the sky in an arc of fire, leaving a trail of thick smoke behind, and dispersed rings of air around it, the noise of the powerful detonation ringing across the field. Tsubame couldn't help but cover her ears at the sudden loud sound. They all watched—Kirishima and Kaminari with their mouths dropped open—as the softball disappeared into a speck in the sky, catching the light of the sun.

          "Know your own maximum first," Aizawa droned as they all watched the glint of the ball, really just a dot in their vision, come down. The device their teacher had in his hand, for recording distance, had numbers rolling up across the screen at rapid-speed. The ball must have landed somewhere, because then Aizawa-sensei turned around. "That is the most rational way to form the foundation of a hero." He held up the recording device, and all eyes honed in on the blue number stuck on the screen. 705.2 meters.

          A cry went up around the class—excitement and awe—, Tsubame herself even found her jaw dropped and her sunflower eyes as wide as they could go. 705.2 meters. 705.2 meters?! Just one throw from Bakugou had gone that far? "Holy shit!" she exclaimed, not loud enough that her teacher could hear, and all the reminders of the fact that it was the bastard who'd thrown that softball fell away. 705.2 meters at softball throw was amazing! Tsubame cracked her own knuckles, ready to compete.

          Kaminari leaned back, one of his eyebrows raised and an uneasy grin shooting its way across his face, looking like he was about to start sweating. "705 meters? Seriously?"

          From across the pitch, Ashido Mina clapped her pink hands together and kept them there. A grin was fashioned on her lips. "What's this? It looks fun!"

          "We can use our Quirks as much as we want!" Sero Hanta was pumping his fists. "As expected from the hero course!" The rest of their peers were glancing around excitedly, though a several few looked nervous at this prospect. Tsubame was not one of those several few.

          "Wow! We really get to show off!" she exclaimed, never one to throw away the opportunity for attention. In the U.A. hero course, it was important to establish yourself as an up-and-coming hero. This was a chance for people to take her seriously. Kirishima at her side looked equally as thrilled, was grinning from ear to ear.

          Their homeroom teacher's words settled quiet over their excitement, "'It looks fun', huh?" His voice was low and unamused. Tsubame's grin fell and turned into a grimace, she sunk back along with the rest of her classmates. "You have three years to become a hero. Will you have an attitude like that the whole time?" Most of Class 1-A wilted, looking taken aback. When an intimidating grin stretched along Aizawa-sensei's face, that was when Tsubame realised that maybe they were in a lot more danger than any of them had anticipated. "Whoever comes last place in all eight tests will be judged to have no potential and will be punished with expulsion."

          That cast an immediate bombshell over 1-A, and their eyes went big as they shouted, "HUH?!" simultaneously.

          "No way," said Kaminari, looking horrified.

          Tsubame's fingers began their anxious tap again, flicking so hard against either thigh that they were practically just vibrating, nervous energy washing over her system. Physical tests were fine. Physical tests were good. But this—?! "Punished with expulsion?!" she hissed to herself—and if she'd had animal ears in that moment, they'd be tucked back flat against her skull. Her tapping finger felt like it was going to burn a hole in her skin. "In all eight tests?!" Her stressed voice was low enough to only be heard by those around her, but Aizawa looked like he was having fun putting his students on the spot. "Is this what all of U.A.'s going to be like? Constant threat of expulsion? Constant tests?!" It felt like her teacher had gone and dumped a bucket of ice water on her head. Sweat beaded on her forehead—and it looked like everyone else was affected just about as much as she was, either frozen in place looking like the sky was about to come crashing down upon them, or shaking with nervous energy. Even Tokoyami, who'd seemed to cool and collected when she'd introduced herself to him earlier, looked worried.

          The only ones who didn't seem to be affected were Yaoyorozu Momo—the tall girl with the black hair pulled back in a high ponytail—, Bakugou Katsuki—the bastard—who looked arrogant, and the red-and-white-haired boy who stood aloofly and whose name had slipped Tsubame's mind in that moment. How are they so calm?! Tsubame thought, as Kaminari was practically vibrating beside her out of pure nerves.

          "We're free to do what we want about the circumstances of our students," explained Aizawa, looking like he was enjoying this a bit too much. It was the first time she hadn't seen him trudging around tiredly, the first time she'd seen an actual smile—no, grin—on his face, as he lifted his head and pushed his dark scraggly hair back. "Welcome to U.A.'s hero course!" Tsubame bared her teeth anxiously. What a weirdo! No, a fiend! This is too mean!

          Uraraka Ochaco, who so far seemed to be the only one speaking out against their teacher, took a bold step forward despite her nervous face. "Last place will be expelled? But it's the first day of school! No, even if it wasn't the first day of school, this is too unfair!" Her short brown hair bobbed as she spoke.

          Maybe Aizawa Shota did enjoy torturing students. Maybe he thought it changed things up if he were to expel kids on the first day. But in that second, something flickered across his face. It was subtle, and Tsubame wasn't always the best at picking up facial expressions, and if it weren't for the intense way her wide eyes were boring into their teacher like he was about to personally end her world, she would have missed it. But as it was, there was something. A change. She couldn't exactly decipher the emotion—something darker, sadder, more intense. His grin turned into a solemn expression. "Natural disasters," he said, "big accidents, and selfish villains. Calamities whose time or place can't be predicted. Japan is covered with unfairness. Heroes are the ones who reverse those situations. If you wanted to go talk with your friends at McDonalds after school, too bad. For the next three years, U.A. will do all it can to give you one hardship after another. Go beyond. Plus Ultra." His stretching grin was back, as he gestured at his students with his finger. "Overcome it with all you've got."

          That's right, she was doing this to be a hero, wasn't she?! Tsubame had no time for fear.

          Stress still ate at her veins, but at her teacher's final words, Tsubame's anxiety was overtaken by total determination, a stoic look overcoming her face as she clenched her fists and raised them before her solidly. No way was she getting kicked out of U.A. after she'd worked so hard, defied everyone who'd ever told her she wasn't good enough, just to get in. She was not going to be last place! No one could rip away her dreams now.

         "All right," he instructed, "demonstration's over. The real thing starts now."

          Test 1: 50-meter dash.

          "Akatsuki." She startled hearing her surname from the homeroom teacher's mouth—nearly jumping out of her skin—, since all the previous times he'd directed his attention towards her had been in disapproving reprimand. Tsubame's gaze darted towards him, body snapped to attention. Particularly after the line about expulsion. Still, despite her big eyes, that expression of determination didn't dare leave her face. Fiercely, her fists clenched in anticipation. "Line up for the 50-meter sprint." Usually, Tsubame hated her last name being so quick in the English alphabet. It meant she was always called on to do the first oral presentations, the first name on the school role (which meant she really needed to be paying attention, something that wasn't her strong suit), the first desk typically closest to the teacher. Now, nothing of that sort was crossing her mind.

          All the fifteen-year-old DNA Alteration Quirk holder thought, was: time to show off?

          Tsubame took it as a yes.

          A sharp grinned pulled along her face, and a spring appeared in her step as she walked towards the short track that was painted on the hard field, the rest of her class following cautiously behind. The threat of expulsion was all at the forefront of their minds, but if there was one thing Tsubame knew, it was running. When Tsubame was lined up, her toes pressed to the start-line, Aizawa-sensei called, "Kaminari. You're her opponent."

          Okay, so perhaps it was more punishment for talking in class than anything to do with the English alphabet.

          The blond boy looked half-nervous, half-confident as he stepped up beside her, perhaps the way Tsubame was grinning with competitive excitedness was throwing him off. 50 meters wasn't very far, and it was the perfect opportunity to show her classmates, who had no clue what her Quirk was, that she wasn't someone who'd be left behind in the dust. With her toes against the white line's edge, Tsubame lifted her knee and slipped her finger around the heel of her brand-new shoe, flipped one off after the other and let them land on the grass. Peeled off her grey fluffy socks as the rest of 1-A watched in quiet confusion—she'd already destroyed her last pair, she was not going to do the same with this comfy set—and shoved them into her flats. Her bare toes sprung against the tough ground as she pressed them back by the line, turning to Kaminari and giving him a brief grin and thumbs up.

          Then, she bent at the hips and knees, bracing her fingers off of the ground in a sprinting position, wolfish grin widening as she waited for their teacher's call. Her Quirk activated—she focused intently on the information and DNA pattern of the animal she had in mind, channelling all her concentration and brainpower into the single act. Fur sprouted, feet cracked and shortened in shape, there was that vague sting that she'd grown numb to over the years. Some of her classmates gasped as they noticed—likely unnerved at the slightly-grotesque, painful-looking process. Kaminari gaped as her transformation finished, and then lined up with her human hands against the floor were spotted cheetah paws, the cat formation winding up the back of her ankles and calves and disappearing into her P.E. uniform pants. She forced herself into an even more pronounced sprint start position, bending her knees above the packed earth. Kaminari seemed to now realise he was in trouble—his yellow eyes went wide and then narrowed in determination, perspiration clung to his forehead. He didn't seem like much of a runner.

          Aizawa—quite literally—held their fate in his hands. Stood at the sidelines overdressed in his black long-sleeved clothes and with his chin hidden in the scarf-like-object, peering down at the two students through his dark-circled eyes, wind shifting in his dark hair. Then, the drop of a pin. A small machine that was set up at the end of the track, to record speeds, spoke in a high, sweet voice, "On your mark... Get set..." A longer pause, which must have been torture for Kaminari, but Tsubame had run track long enough that all the wait did was charge her system with familiar adrenaline.

          The sound of a starting gun.

          No later had the noise left the machine than Tsubame was taking off, launching her legs from the starting point in a sprint. She left a plume of dust behind her. Several students made noises—perhaps of surprise, perhaps of dismay at her speed—, and her legs moved in a blur, arms pumping. Her grin was sharp and wild, pointed canines bared. Kicked up dirt. It was such a rush. Adrenaline pumped in her veins, familiar instincts to hunt down prey. Tsubame crossed the finish line before she even really got to think. White dashed beneath her feet. "3.99 seconds!" the tri-pod machine squawked at her, as her cheetah paws skidded to a stop against the packed dirt, sending dust flying. She brought her arms out to steady herself, spinning around in her drift to see Kaminari behind her.

          He was squawking something indignant, like, "What the hell?!" as he ran towards her, still sprinting the track. His yellow eyes were wide. Whatever Quirk the boy had, it didn't appear it was helping him. Kaminari wasn't anywhere near a bad runner, but compared to Tsubame, anyone would look slow. He crossed the finish line several moments later, huffing out as he bent over with his hands pressed to his knees.

         "8.02 seconds!" the machine told him in its same mechanical voice as it had to Tsubame. He was peering at her like she was crazy, his brows raised towards his golden hairline as he breathed heavily, pants falling from his lips. His hair, Tsubame thought for the first time, with its blond shade and dark jagged streak, reminded her an awful lot of a Pikachu.

          Kaminari seemed to be struggling to get words out with the breath he was trying to regain after his vicious sprint, wiping hair away from his sweaty forehead as he stayed hunched, his slender form seeming short with the pose he was currently pretzelled in. Tsubame filled in for him. "Not a Quirk suited for running?" she asked the boy with a lopsided grin.

          Finding his voice, the blond shook his head adamantly. "Definitely not." They stepped out of the way and turned in time to watch the next pair. Iida Tenya vs Asui Tsuyu—Tsubame was yet to discover what Iida's Quirk was, but it seemed that Asui's most definitely had something to do with her froglike mannerisms. To prove Tsubame's point, Asui crouched innocently with her large hands by her also-large feet, perched like an amphibian. Iida, on the other hand, got into a sprint position similar to one that Tsubame had just moments before.

          The two waited dutifully until the machine's voice counted down, "On your mark... Get set..." followed by the starting gun, and then they were off. Iida had his sports pants hiked up above his calves, and now Tsubame could see why, as he took off in a burst of dust just in the same way that she had. He was incredibly fast—for the first time, Tsubame could see a kind of mirror of how it looked to watch someone else run like her. There appeared to be small engines poking out of the back of his calf muscles, and his arms pumped, fingers held out and straightened with stiff positioning, as his feet pushed off of the track ground and sprung him forward. Iida was simply a blur. She'd blinked once and then he'd flown across the finish line, going well beyond as he tried to slow down. The machine informed him of his time, "3.04 seconds!" Where he stopped, steam poured out of the engines in the backs of his calves.

          Dammit, Tsubame thought, biting her tongue, already behind.

           Asui Tsuyu, surprisingly, wasn't all that far behind him. Her giant frog-like bounds sent her hopping fair distances, and she crossed the white line a few seconds after Iida Tenya as the machine called back at her, "5.58 seconds!"

          Tsubame watched them recover: Asui looking back with her finger pressed below her mouth, a frog-like croak leaving her throat, as Iida muttered something to himself behind him pushing his glasses higher up his nose with an index finger.

          Her blond classmate seemed to have finally gotten his breath entirely back, because Kaminari folded his arms up atop his head and looked at Tsubame with big, electric yellow eyes. "But you were so fast, holy shit! Do you even know how useful that could be in rescue situations?!" It felt nice to have people tell her positive things about her Quirk. All of her class' Quirks had been old news in junior high, most had known each other since elementary, it had been a long time since she'd heard any praise about her genetic ability. So watching Kaminari's face light up with a beam as he talked ever-so-fast about the usefulness of her Quirk made Tsubame's grin brighten by tenfold. "I mean, you could get civilians out of harm's way in no time! Or save so many people from natural disasters!" He spoke quickly. Tsubame liked it.

          The grin she shot him was full of sharp teeth. "Thanks, I hope so! What's your Quirk?"

          Kaminari looked happy to be asked, his expression grew smug. "Electrification!" He grinned crookedly, hair flopping as he flicked his head, clenching his fist dutifully as he stood there in his U.A. sports uniform. A few lines of electricity ran over his hands, like static waves. The zaps were yellow, like his eyes. "I'm bad at controlling it, though."

          Eyes going big, Tsubame let out a soft, "Oh..." He looked confused at her vocalisation, so she just simply raised her index finger and pressed it against the black streak of his blond hair. "Pikachu."

          The electric boy looked pleased. He poked her cheek in return. "Ditto."

          Tsubame frowned, nose going all scrunched as her lips twisted lopsidedly. "I'm not an amorphous purple blob, excuse you."

          In return, she got Kaminari Denki's sly grin, "No, you're like a catgirl, right?" She suspected he was wearing eyeliner, and his eyes narrowed as he stared her down jestingly.

          Tsubame's fist swatted him lightly on the head, then came down, making a dull 'thunk' as it was brought down atop his skull. "Weirdo," she accused, using her strength to force him down and use his head as an arm-rest—some would call it asserting dominance, Tomomi would call it sisterly love, and Miki would call it bullying. Kaminari didn't seem to mind too much, because he was grinning crookedly even as she used her arm's weight on him, either enjoying her company or liking provoking her. "For your information," she told him, "I'd be Zoroark."

          That seemed to be enough information of Pokémon knowledge to indicate to Kaminari that she actually knew what she was talking about. Eagerly, he pushed himself out from under her arm, standing up straight—it was annoying, how he was taller than her—, with joy on his face. "Hey, which game is your favourite?!" he crowed excitedly, barely even realising that the next set of their classmates had started their sprint. It was Ashido Mina vs Aoyama Yuga.

          "Oh, Platinum for sure. You've got to go back to the classics," Tsubame insisted, her grin blinding as she clasped her hands together. Her lower-legs had not changed back, the paws toyed at the hard ground.

          Kaminari looked scandalized. "You're calling Platinum a classic? HeartGold is my favourite." He jabbed a joyful thumb at his chest. "You'd be no match for my Pikachu: Sparky!" exclaimed Kaminari with excitement, beaming from ear-to-ear, and of course the boy actually had a Pikachu as the front of his party. And of course he'd given it the most generic name possible. (She couldn't talk, of course, her own first set of Pokémon had been named everything between the creative range of 'Twiggy ♡', 'Bestie ☆', and 'Bean').

         The other girl's face scrunched up. "Excuse me," Tsubame said in genuine offense, "my Torterra would wipe you." Kaminari had the gall to scoff, looking like he was literal seconds away from challenging her to an online Pokémon tournament, when they were dutifully interrupted.

          Ashido Mina skidded to a stop beside them, having just crossed the finish line of her sprint. There was some sort of grey liquid-like substance pooling beneath her feet, that seemed to have corroded the track's ground. Tsubame's eyes broke contact to look at her, as Ashido flicked some of that acidic secretion away. It sizzled at the pavement. The pink girl eyed Tsubame and Kaminari, clearly not having an issue with barging confidently into a conversation, "What're you two talking about?"

          "Pokémon," both teenagers answered at the same time, their matching yellow eyes alight.

          Ashido's face lit up, pink cheeks pulling in a wide grin. "Oh my God, are you excited for the new game—?!"

          She was cut off by another turn of the machine's starting gun, as the trio turned to view the newest participants in the 50-meter sprint assessment. Bakugou Katsuki vs Midoriya Izuku, which was an interesting match-up. Midoriya had a nickname for him, right? So they must have known each other before U.A.. Unfortunately, the green-haired boy's Quirk went un-noted as his opponent counterpart used his explosion blasts to fly forward with a yell—unsurprising—, and cleared the track in 4.13 seconds. Midoriya just ran, taking 7.02 seconds to reach the white finish line. What was his Quirk...? Tsubame gave Bakugou a dirty look as the bastard landed a fair distance from her.

          Up next were Sero Hanta and Tokoyami Fumikage, the two boys standing alongside each other at the starting line. Sero stretched his arms and cracked his neck—he had abnormally large elbows, which was a weird trait for Tsubame to notice, but made more sense as the starting gun blasted off, and his arms thrust forward, a thread of white cloth-like material shooting from the outer curve of his elbow.

          It took Tsubame a moment to realise that it was probably something like duct-tape. The separate lines of tape caught around both Iida and Midoriya, and instantly both boys struggled to stay upright so they wouldn't get pulled off their feet, planting their weight on the ground. That gave Sero the perfect opportunity to leap forward and reel the tape back in—with Midoriya and Iida as steady weights—, sending him flying along the track with tremendous speed. A little like the old pre-Quirk comics of that Spider-man hero that Tsubame was vaguely aware of.

          Remarkably more unexpected was when from the quieter Tokoyami's chest burst a dark, shadow-like entity, that wrapped up around him and stood beside him at eye-level, a shadowy 'chord' connecting its lower-half to Tokoyami's abdomen. The shadow had the head of a bird, like Tokoyami, and its eyes glowed a soft yellow. No longer had the shadow appeared before it spoke, "I'm on it, Fumikage," in a deep but deceptively cute voice. Then it was growing in size, a long hand extending from it to dig into the track floor, and the shadow entity threw both itself and Tokoyami forward, so the two were momentarily airborne as they skidded over the track.

          Sero blinked, and then Tokoyami and the shadow were passing him easily. They flew past the white line with the machine's warble of, "5.04 seconds!", and then Sero was passing moments later with, "5.39 seconds!" Sero crashed right into Midoriya and Iida and all three boys went down with shouts and tangled limbs. Tsubame was more focused on Tokoyami, watching in quiet awe as the shadow receded in shape and size and drew back until it was just a small bird-shaped shadow of moving darkness that hovered in front of him. The entity was meek-looking and snapped its beak docilely as it looked around through the sunlight.

          "Well done, Dark Shadow," said Tokoyami, his voice deep and solitary, and Tsubame made the assumption that that was the shadowy creature's name. Such interesting Quirks everyone had.

          After them went Jirou and Yaoyorozu, and, once again, the students on the sidelines were taken aback by a Quirk as Yaoyorozu lifted up the side of her shirt to reveal her side and different sparkles of pink and blue began to accumulate. Then, something started to push its way out of her skin. A wheel? No—more than that, was that a handle—? The more the object was pulled out of Yaoyorozu's side by her calm hands, the more its situation became apparent. Ashido, Kaminari and Tsubame were gaping when the item was fully freed.

          A bicycle. An entire bicycle. Tsubame had so many questions, and between Midoriya's insistent muttering to himself trying to decipher what Yaoyorozu's Quirk was, Tsubame was thinking the same. Could she store things in her body? Create things? Something else? Yaoyorozu Momo lined the bike up with the track, perching on the seat as Jirou Kyouka watched her with wide eyes.

          "Is... that allowed?" Sero Hanta had asked, rubbing the back of his neck. The bike was a bright orange.

          "I mean, technically it's her Quirk, right?" voiced Ashido, though her eyes looked a bit apprehensive too. It didn't matter what they thought, because then Aizawa was calling his mark and the two girls took off. While Yaoyorozu steadied her feet on the pedals and took off in a blinding start, leg muscles pumping, Jirou could do nothing but run after her. Another Quirk not suited for track, it seemed.

          "4.21 seconds!" the machine told Yaoyorozu Momo, as her bike skidded to a perpendicular stop before it could collide with the idling Sero, Kaminari, Ashido and Tsubame. None of them made an attempt to move, so they were each sprayed with a light layer of dirt. Bakugou didn't seem pleased to see Yaoyorozu come so close to beating his score. "8.58 seconds!" was Jirou's mark, as the shorter girl bent onto her knees panting. Her short, jagged black hair fell in front of her face.

          The rest of their classmates cleared it in time, one after the other. The red-and-white-haired boy—why couldn't Tsubame recall his name?—cleared the track in a matter of 4.32 seconds with a sheet of ice propelling him forward, coming just short of Yaoyorozu's score. Where the others stood congratulating each other or engaging in light conversation, he slunk off to the side and stood aloofly without interacting with any of his peers. Eventually, all twenty of them had gone. Some stood panting at the sidelines, others hadn't even broken a sweat. Out of all of them, it was Iida who'd come out with the fastest record, at 3.04 seconds, though Tsubame's was a close second, and Bakugou's third place was too near her own for comfort. Bastard seemed to blister at that, shooting her a scalding look with teeth visibly gritted together and several veins popping in his forehead. In turn, she narrowed her eyes. Those gazes of red and yellow clashed together violently. Yaoyorozu Momo had gotten fourth highest and the ice boy had squeezed in behind her in fifth. An interesting turn-out, for sure.

          Test 2: Grip strength.

          Devices were handed out amongst them, one for each student, weights with squeezable handle grips and numbers displayed on a small screen. Tsubame peered at her own and tried to figure out how to go about it. Meanwhile, the rest of her class got to work.

          She saw the numbers on Shouji Mezo's screen stick at 540.0kg, heard Sero's awed cry of, "Wow! 540 kilograms? What are you, a gorilla?!" with a wide grin, standing at Shouji's side. "Oh, an octopus?" Tsubame's eyes glanced up at their very tall, many-armed classmate, his face hidden behind some kind of mask.

          Her attention turned determinedly down to the device in her own hand. Alright, Tsubame, she told herself, and with her tiger paw squeezed down as tight as she could on the grip recorder. Her muscles strained, and she held on as long as she could before the machine clicked with its registered score. The number landed on 118.6kg and stuck. Tsubame worried her lower lip between her teeth. It was strong, but she'd need to get stronger. Tokoyami's bird-like shadow creature broke the grip weight in two.

          Test 3: Standing long jump.

         Tsubame went in the long jump after Asui, which was a difficult act to follow considering the girl had cleared the entire sandbox with just one strong amphibious spring. Had she been allowed to have a run-up, Tsubame likely would have cleared it too. As it was, the students had a fixed line they could stand on, and from there they were made to jump across the box. Still, with her tiger hindlegs and paws, and by adopting a crouch beforehand, Tsubame was able to launch herself forward in an appropriate long jump position.

          She soared through the air, her legs straightened out in front of her, in a leap that would have made her middle school peers jealous. When she landed, her bare feet sunk into the sand. It shifted through her toes. "4.78 meters!" the little machine sounded, that Tsubame was starting to love. She'd gotten so close to the edge of the sandbox. So, not cleared, but still a pretty good score. Tsubame tried not to wince as Midoriya placed last, just falling short of Kaminari's jump.

          Test 4: Repeated side steps.

          Repeated side steps were a bitch, even on her agile leopard legs. And, God, she'd never transformed her DNA on the same body part this much before, and it was really, truly beginning to hurt. But they did the job, springing agilely from side to side at a rapid pace, racking up the numbers on the machine.

          And for the first time, Tsubame realised that she was having real fun. At school. It wasn't academic based—she wasn't being made to look stupid in front of her classmates—, she was rapt and paying attention because she was doing something that she enjoyed, and all of her peers were just as enthusiastic as she was. The fact that it was a test had totally left her mind. She was allowed to use her Quirk in class. She was allowed to have fun using her Quirk. It brought relief to the burn in her muscles.

          She highly suspected Hagakure was cheating—which, likely, Aizawa-sensei wouldn't even care, considering it was still using her invisibility Quirk—, and that somehow left Midoriya falling behind again, between Kaminari realising that he could grab and zap the particular machine in order to get its numbers to crank up high while he stood still, and Uraraka not even technically touching the ground. Apparently, in Aizawa's method of teaching, cheating was not prohibited. In fact, it seemed that as long as their Quirks were being used, it was encouraged. Creativity and thinking outside-of-the-box, and all that. Tsubame didn't really have anything interesting and exploitable with her Quirk, so she just stuck to stretching her physical capabilities to their limit.

          Back and forth and back and forth, side steps were tiring.

          Sweat dripped down her face, but Tsubame kept going as the minute ticked on and only stopped when the machine timer ended, its number of 72 shining back at her.

          Test 5: Ball throw.

          After Bakugou's impressive entry of 705.2 meters in the ball throw, Tsubame was eager to step up to beat him. She hadn't slipped her shoes back on since the first test, and her bare toes sprung lightly across the ground in warm-up as her feet danced towards the starting circle. Aizawa-sensei had given her the softball, dropped it into her palm, and now she clasped it between deft fingers, swinging it lightly. There must have been some kind of tracker on it that sent its distance statistic to the teacher's device.

          Her bones were already cracking as she approached the white ring—twisting at the fingers and hand of her right arm, breaking, growing and realigning. It was excruciatingly painful. As much as she liked to brag that she'd only ever a few broken bones at a young age, this must have technically counted, as they snapped themselves and shattered to take the shape of something new. Tsubame's teeth sunk into her tongue—forcing herself to bear it without the knowledge of her classmates. There was no need for them to know.

          Once the transformation had been complete, Tsubame exhaled in relief, the strong tiger muscles roped up with her own. Tsubame stretched her arms, rolled her shoulders and cracked her neck.

          No going outside of the drawn circle, huh? That was easy. It wasn't as much room for a run-up as she'd like, but Tsubame backed up until her tiger heels were at the white line's edge. Evenly, the girl exhaled through her nose. Eyes slid shut for just a moment. Then, after a breath, those enchanting circles of yellow snapped open and Tsubame grinned, flung herself forward on super strong legs with paws springing off of the hard ground. A break-out sprint. Then, before her claws could hit the edge of the painted circle, Tsubame's feet launched her into the air.

          Wind bit past her hair, sent the pigtails twirling behind her. She was momentarily weightless. When Tsubame reached her peak of about ten feet, her legs curled up beneath her as gravity began to take hold. Then her arm swung, already muscular and now chorded with extra felidae strength, with enough speed that it actually hurt her shoulder. A determined shout sounded from her mouth.

          The softball left her hands with a 'crack!' of air, shooting up towards the sky. It spun and spun over itself as the object grew smaller against the plane of blue. Tsubame landed on the ground with her strong calves taking the impact, jarring her ankles slightly, safely still in the white circle. She panted and watched with intense eyes as the ball continued to fly, wiping the sweat from her forehead with the back of a clawed hand. It surface winked distantly in the sun.

          Tsubame's eyes glanced over to see the device that Aizawa-sensei was holding up for the whole class to see. The number read '409.20 meters', and Tsubame grinned, corners of her lips drawing up felinishly in a smug and pleased expression. Maybe not as far as the blond bastard, but a good score at that.

          "Hey, Akatsuki-san, good one!" exclaimed Kirishima as she moved towards him, Yaoyorozu Momo stepping up to take her place at the softball pitch. She'd tied her shirt up around her waist so that her Quirk, which Tsubame had learned was Creation, could be more accessible. It seemed like as the others had been taking their turns, she'd been working on something big. Tsubame must have been too preoccupied with her own score, because for the first time, she noticed that Yaoroyozu was rolling a canon. An honest-to-God canon. It wasn't very big, but Yaoyorozu seemed pleased with herself. Aizawa-sensei didn't have any complaints either, as the tall girl lined it up in the circle and loaded it with the softball. Then, she set the canon off.

          Tsubame had already covered her ears in anticipation, so the loud noise wasn't too much of a shock, but what was a shock was the way that the ball just shot up into the horizon sky and disappeared. Completely. It had happened so fast that if Tsubame had blinked she'd have missed it. Yaoyozou leaned tiredly on the canon as they all waited for the score. When it finally came in, Aizawa-sensei looked decently surprised, held the device up for everyone to see.

          1145.92 meters. 1145.92 meters?!

          Tsubame gaped, and those around her did the same. What. The. Hell. Her eyes glanced disbelievingly to Yaoyorozu Momo, who appeared content but also wasn't looking so good. Had her face always been so pale? She was sweating. Yaoyorozu wiped her forehead with her arm and gave her peers a shaky grin.

          Uraraka Ochaco went next, and Tsubame was aware from watching her during the long jump that Uraraka could make things float—she'd done so to give herself an excellent score on that test, and during the repeated side steps. Now, she took the ball from Aizawa confidently, stood within the ring, activated her Quirk, and threw the softball in a gentle arc towards the sky. It just kept going. Up. Up. Up. The group of twenty students just stood there, watching it disappear like a balloon into the distance until it was entirely gone from sight. Eventually, Aizawa-sensei just turned around and showed the screen, that had a big pink '∞' on its screen.

          Uraraka happily clasped her hands together as Kaminari's mouth dropped, "That's amazing! She got 'infinity'!"

          "Wow, Uraraka-san!" called Tsubame in awe. "You're incredible!" The brunette looked flustered at the sudden praise, bashfully rubbing the back of her head, and skipped back towards the class looking extra pleased with herself.

         Next up was Midoriya Izuku, and Tsubame didn't know what to expect. So far, Tsubame hadn't seen him exhibiting any Quirk, not like she had with the rest of their classmates. He just seemed... normal. Midoriya looked nervous too, and when he was handed the ball and stood in the pitch, he just stared down at the object in his hands like it was about to end the world. "It doesn't look good for Midoriya-san if he continues like this." That was Iida's voice, low but enough to be heard from the distance where he, Bakugou and Uraraka stood together, to where Tsubame was standing by Kaminari and Kirishima. She glanced over in time to see Uraraka grasp her own hands nervously, clearly worried for her newfound-friend's wellbeing.

          Bakugou seemed astounded that Iida would even say anything like that, and with a hand on his hip turned towards the glasses-wearing boy with a disbelieving sound leaving his mouth. "Huh? Of course not. He's a Quirkless small fry, you know."

          Quirkless? Tsubame's mind came to a screeching hold. Midoriya was Quirkless? Of course, that made sense with the fact that he was the only one out of the class to not have used a Quirk so far, but how was he expecting to be a hero without a Quirk? How had he passed the exam? She was now intently focused on their conversation.

          "Quirkless?" questioned Iida genuinely, but sounding as if he were about to refute Blond Bastard's point. "Are you not aware of what he did during the Entrance Exam?"

          That seemed to confuse Bakugou. "Huh?"

          But then Midoriya was shifting, and Tsubame's eyes were snapping immediately back to the boy. Quirkless? Entrance Exam? What was going on? She watched, enraptured by the scene, as Midoriya pulled back for the throw. Glowing lines of red zapped up across the skin of his right arm, pooling upwards towards the hand that clutched the softball. His limb was moving in the motion of the throw. The radiance was a bit distracting. "He's glowing," murmured Tsubame in awe, enraptured, before the glow suddenly died and Midoriya let go of the ball, and it...

         Flew not even a fifty meters and fell sadly down onto the pitch with a dull thud.

         Silence.

         It seemed Midoriya couldn't quite understand what had happened, because he brought his hands up to his face as they trembled and gasped to himself, "I was definitely trying to use it just now..." So he did have a Quirk?

         "I erased your Quirk." Aizawa's deep voice broke all students out of their rapt silence focused on Midoriya Izuku. His tone was more serious than before, less happy. Their eyes snapped to his, twenty pairs of gazes flying to where he stood at the sidelines. What Tsubame saw actually made her take a step back. The odd, tired, depressed-looking Aizawa-sensei from earlier, who'd quite literally turned up in a sleeping bag, had eyes that were now glowing a bloody red, narrowed, sharp, and displeased. His dark shaggy hair was floating upwards ominously, and what Tsubame had earlier assumed was a scarf were really different layers of a bandage-like material that now unfurled and hovered in eerie fashion around his figure. He looked like something out of a horror film, or one of those dark, gritty thrillers. For the first time, a pair of bright yellow glasses—goggles?—were revealed against his clothed collarbone, that had been hiding beneath the scarf-like object. "That Entrance Exam was definitely not rational enough." His head raised, and Tsubame was so, so, so glad in that moment that his glowing red eyes were boring into Midoriya and not her because she really didn't think she'd be able to handle that today. "Even a kid like you was accepted."

          Midoriya looked shaken, staring at Aizawa-sensei with large eyes. "You... erased my Quirk?" Tsubame had the same question, and was suddenly stiff in her position, frozen in place, with the fear that their teacher could take their abilities away at any time—perhaps permanently. But then Midoriya gasped and took a step back, recognition on his face. "Those goggles... I see! You can erase other people's Quirks with your own Quirk just by looking at them. The Erasure Hero: Eraser Head!"

          Kirishima frowned. "Eraser? I don't know him." The class had unknowingly slunk closer together, likely all subconsciously intimidated by their homeroom teacher who was still glaring at Midoriya with red eyes and had that whole floaty-hair-and-scarf thing going on.

          Pursing her lips, Tsubame dipped her head in agreement, "I've never heard of an Erasure Hero before."

          "I've heard of him," said Asui Tsuyu, a low croak in her tone. "He's an underground hero." Underground? So he doesn't like the spotlight, huh?

          Aizawa Shota was still staring Midoriya down, his spine no longer hunched in a slump, straightened and remarkably tall compared to his student. "From what I can tell, you can't control your Quirk, can you?" Midoriya made a sound of surprise. "Do you intend to become incapacitated again and have someone save you?" That must have been referring to whatever had gone on in the Entrance Exam, whatever Iida had mentioned.

          "That's— that's not my intention—!" asserted Midoriya in return, sweating.

          One of the bandage-like loops swung out and caught around Midoriya's back, skidding him across the dirt to come face-to-face with the homeroom teacher. Even from the sidelines, Tsubame was scared. Holy shit she was never going to talk in this man's class again! His eyes—they had been a deep black before, which made it all the more terrifying—, glowing their crimson, bore into the young boy as he stared down at him without mercy. "Whatever your intention, I'm saying that's what others around you will be forced to do." Midoriya gasped. "In the past, there was an oppressively passionate hero who saved over a thousand people by himself and created a legend. Even if you have the same reckless valor, you'll just be decked and turned into a useless doll after saving one person."

          His words were harsh, and even the other students were sweating. Though they were under no threat and would not be in the same circumstances as Midoriya. Tsubame's teeth were gritted, shown as her lips parted in an uneasy grimace. Her shoulder was pressed firm against Kirishima's, whose eyes were wide. Man, if her teacher ever said stuff like that to Tsubame she'd probably just dissolve on the spot.

          "Midoriya Izuku," said Aizawa Shota, as the scarf floated ominously around him and he stared his student right in the eye. "With your power, you can't become a hero." Midoriya winced, and then his face turned stoic, lips flattening in a stern line as his expression quivered with nerves and hurt. A murmur went up through the class of 1-A as Aizawa exhaled and closed his eyes. His loops—what were those? A scarf? Bandages?—slipped up over Midorya's head and returned back to him, where they curled over his head and lay like a scarf across his shoulders once again. The man's long black hair stopped floating and fell around his face. Midoriya's shoulders slumped with disappointment. "I've returned your Quirk. You have two turns for the ball throw. Hurry up and get it over with." Then the man turned, his hands in his pockets, and returned to the sidelines once again, eyes back to their normal shade of obsidian.

          For a moment, Midoriya looked dejected. He clutched the softball in his hands, muttering to himself, wondering what he should do. The rest of the class were in a bit of shock, muttered between themselves. "What did he mean about Midoriya-san becoming incapacitated again?" asked Kaminari Denki lowly, tilting his head towards the red-head and brunette who stood beside him.

          "Ah, Iida-san mentioned something about what Midoriya-san had done during the Entrance Exam," explained Tsubame, leaning in towards him. "Sounds like he got hurt bad."

          Kirishima's arms crossed gently, "He must have needed to be rescued."

          They watched as Midoriya fretted over what his plan should be, standing in the softball pitch circle and looking like he was thinking hard. Then, he straightened up, looking ready to throw the ball. Tsubame's mouth was twisted into a flat line, pulling down a bit at the edges. What their teacher had said was cruel. She hesitated for a moment before she leant a little forward and raised a hand to the side of her mouth. "You've, uh, got this, Midoriya-kun!" called Tsubame, stammering as she prayed that Aizawa-sensei wouldn't be angry with her encouragement. Luckily, the Erasure Hero didn't turn around.

          It seemed to give Midoriya a little bit of strength, as he squeezed the ball and reeled his body back in anticipation for the throw. His arm carried through, he was muscular for such a short kid, and there was no glow this time. But when the ball left his index finger, it shot up into the sky with a blast that send a gust of air flying back into the students. Tsubame's pigtails got caught up in the wind, as did the other girls' long hair. It whipped around their faces.

          Midoriya stood there, panting, as his peers gasped. What had Aizawa said about him never going to be a hero? But even as Midoriya stood there in triumph, she noticed the flinching of his right arm. Pain. Her gaze ran down the length of his wrist until she came to the root of the issue. His index finger was now crooked and disfigured. The force broke it?! Tsubame gaped at the observation, but the softball was still soaring through the air, far further than hers had travelled. "Sensei," said Midoriya, forcing Aizawa to look up from the score on the device—that could be read, '705.3 meters' around his arm. Midoriya turned around and clasped his hand into a fist victoriously, visibly biting back the pain as the broken finger bent with the others. "I can still move!"

         Kaminari's voice was the first to break the silence, "He got over 700 meters?!"

         "Finally, a hero-like record!" Uraraka jumped into the air with both fists pumped, smiling wide.

          "His finger's swollen!" observed Iida thoughtfully. He then clasped a finger and thumb to his chin in consideration. "There was the Entrance Exam, too... He has a strange Quirk."

          "It's not very stylish," added Aoyama Yuga, whose flashy blond hair was combed neatly back.

        Tsubame jumped as a sudden explosion sounded out, resisted the urge to plug her ears—screw Bakugou!—as the blond bastard shouted and lunged forward in a sprint. He bellowed, "Hey!" A gasp left Uraraka's mouth and Tsubame was about a second away from throwing herself after him and catching the boy around the waist with her strong arms before he could seriously hurt their classmate, because he was reaching a crackling, furious hand towards Midoriya as he ran. "Tell me what's going on, Deku, you bastard!" But she was beaten to it by Aizawa-sensei, as his scarf-weapon whipped out and caught Bakugou in two loops, one around the face and another across the chest. It pulled him back and prevented him from getting any closer to Midoriya. "What the—?" Bakugou spat out as he tried to turn his head around to look back. "These cloths are hard...!"

          "They're weapons for capture made of carbon fiber woven together with metal wire composed of a special alloy." It was a relief to hear Aizawa-sensei's voice back to a bored drone, though his Quirk was activated again and his hair was afloat. "Jeez... Don't keep making me use my Quirk over and over. I have dry eye." The capture weapon returned to him as his hair and eyes returned to normal with a blink, turning away dismissively with the wave of his hand. "We're wasting time. Whoever's next, get ready."

          Tsubame watched with narrowed eyes as Midoriya inched slowly around Bakugou before making a run for it back to the rest of his classmates. She needed to know what was up with them. Bakugou did not shift, scowling with bared, gritted teeth. "Is your finger alright?" asked Uraraka cautiously, scooting towards Midoriya.

          "O-oh, yeah," agreed Midoriya, though the injury looked incredibly painful. Asking someone to go next in the softball throw after all that intensity was a big request, but eventually Kirishima slunk forward with a weary grin and a hand rubbing at the back of his neck, opting to go to break the tension.

༉*ೃ༄

hello, yes, aizawa was thinking of shirakumo oboro when he answered ochaco's question about expulsion. ik he's a weirdo at first but i still believe he was putting so much pressure on class 1-A because he wanted them to survive and he knows first-hand how students can die during hero work. and anyway he's gonna become tsubame's depressed gay bestie <3 dadzawa for the win

he should have been more careful with his words about how U.A. will give them one hardship after the other 🙄🙄

anyways i love mr aizawa SO MUCH (an insane amount like wtf) i can't wait for him and tsubame to be besties <3 gonna make the USJ arc so good. he rlly went from being a weirdo to being one of the most badass and cool characters in like 5 seconds during USJ, aizawa needs more love

this is the longest chapter i've ever written, uhm,,, a lot happened during this episode so yea </3 enjoy, the next ones will be shorter this time hehsdfkhj. this was originally mixed with chapter 5 and came to a beastly total of 15,000 words lmao  (。·//ε//·。)

i believe in tokoyami and dark shadow supremacy

word count: 10,018

13.03.2021.