【ＥＮＩＧＭＡ】

***

Here's the thing: setting her kitchen on fire wasn't really her plan.

When she'd decided to put her foot down and 'conquer the flames'— a long lecture from her mother wasn't what she had in mind. She expected to emerge from the heat victorious and ready to rush on to the next challenge, really. Instead, she got smoke-filled lungs and ten minutes of coughing. The thing is— flames had always been something that interested Y/n.

Fire was passion. Destruction. A sterilizer.

It could bring chaos to a city. Burn it to ashes whilst being the embodiment of beauty and illumination, but Y/n... couldn't see it either way.

It was pretty stupid of her, to think she could somehow feel the beauty of the rage like she could everything else; perhaps feel the weight of its embellishment and shimmer heavy on her eyelids—and she realized it was stupid when her attempt to conquer the chaos ended with a loud and steady beeping filling the room and shouting coming from her parents as they tried to turn off the fire alarm and scold their daughter at the same time.

Not Y/n's proudest moment, but it's not like she had many of those, to begin with.

Attempt number fifty-three at starting and putting out a fire had yet again failed, and she knew things like this couldn't get her down, but damn did it really suck when there were so many challenges beyond fire that she wanted to conquer.

Everything else had come so easy to her.

Like, getting onto a bus or making her way downtown, or, in this case, successfully arriving at school and easily making her way down the long halls. Things that could be considered challenging for a typical blind person— just weren't for her.

Everything always seemed to go her way and she wanted to go beyond that. She wanted to be able to, for once, take out the chaos as easily as she created it. The thing Y/n seemed to easily forget about herself, however, was the fact that she was a chaos-starter. Never much of a solver. Maybe the entire thing was just weird. Starting fires blind and hoping to take them out, still blind.

Ah. 

When it was put like that, it seemed worse than it actually was, and Y/n almost felt grateful to have her thinking interrupted when she was knocked to the side by someone rushing past. Thinking, in her case, was too much of a hassle, anyway.

She gripped her backpack and hadn't been expecting the trembling and furious apologies spilling from the guy who did so; she was almost knocked over a second time by the force of his overpowering insecurity. She could feel it like the coolness of fragrance or maybe a breeze in the fall was a better way to describe it. Typically chilling and soothing— not in this case, though. If anything, it was concerning. Like he was on the verge of tears for... accidentally bumping into someone.

He got even more curious when he abruptly paused mid apology, almost choked up. Y/n frowned in confusion and could feel him get really close as he gasped and asked,

"Is that your quirk?" And like he had felt an immediate urge to explain the reasoning for his sudden question, he followed up with, "Or— I mean just, your eyes— they're... they're really cool!"

His voice was sweet and child-like and Y/n felt almost flattered by his fascination. And for the first time since bumping into the strange boy, she finally captured a second to speak.

"Thanks!" And in a drawled brag she continued, "They don't work."

There was no need for beating around the bush, even if her words would crush the excited boy, and so she had decided to cut to the chase. 

It was then that she could hear his hitched breath, words catching in his throat and the slight shake of a breathy inhale and, well, long story short: there he was, stuttering over his words, sounding like he was once again, the verge of tears and he apologized one too many times for Y/n to keep hold of her patience.

She wondered how long he'd go on as she stood there listening to his trembling, watery apologies.

"I—I mean! Like— I could just help you around, you know? A-and I'm not saying you need it, because you've been doing fine on your own or— at least I think— that's what it seems like, but then again, who knows? You could have a helper around the corner— not saying that you need one, obviously! But if you don't have one, I kind of want to ask how you got here all by yourself? And—! Like— that's not to say that it's impossible— or no, not impossible, that's not the word I was looking for, I'm just trying to say—"

Y/n stopped listening to him after a while when curiosity got the better of her thinking as she wondered more about the boy.

"Hey so, what's your name?" She cut in, not really sure what he was on about anymore, and he seemed to tense tenfold again.

"M-Midoriya Izuku!" He squeaked and Y/n smiled.

"That's so cool." Y/n offered a friendly thumbs up before turning on her heel and hurrying the other way, excusing herself from the situation immediately. She somehow felt like she'd added to whatever horrible experiences made him so teary and unsure of himself.

He seemed vulnerable, careful, not very compatible with the kind of person Y/n was and she wasn't interested in finding out what the exact percentage of their non-compatibility was. 

Though, his words did interest her (one sentence out of his five-paragraph ramble). Midoriya seemed to be perceptive, even when he didn't seem to be trying at that moment, considering he was too busy apologizing for something that wasn't his fault. His mind presented important questions within seconds of taking note of one thing and Y/n couldn't help but linger on one.

I kind of want to ask how you got here all by yourself?

The age-old question. 

She found a lot of people asking her the exact same thing everywhere she went and honestly, their guess was as good as hers. Like she'd already established, it was a sense of just knowing. That's all she's ever been able to describe it as. And that was her current concern— the fact that she was a mystery to herself.

If she was going to be mysterious, she wanted to at least be the only person with the key to the secrets locked inside of herself. But it's what she was doing at the most prestigious hero school in Japan, after all.

To figure out the puzzle she was and finally sort out the pieces of herself.

And she meant all the pieces. The middle pieces, the corner pieces, the missing pieces.

"Ah, wait!" Midoriya was at her side again, panting and mumbling before Y/n had even gotten the chance to completely register his presence. "I just have to ask, I'm so sorry! Erm: what is your quirk?"

Y/n could feel a smile pull at her lips. 

She'd been asked the same thing over and over again. She'd been teased a little, laughed at in all good-hearted nature, but she couldn't say it didn't bug her. Not the teasing, no. It was the fact she couldn't deny what the teases were.

("How are you gonna be a good hero if you don't even know your own quirk?" "How do you know you even have a quirk if you can't even say what it is? You're so funny, Y/n!" "Will you even be registered as having a quirk if you don't know it?")

"You wanna know what my quirk is?" She asked Midoriya, holding her arms behind her back. With a hum, she shrugged unpretentiously, "Ah, beats me."

Y/n could feel the confusion from Midoriya; Again, it was like a breeze. She knew what he was feeling. How he was feeling, reacting to her words. 'I don't need eyes to see' was an ongoing joke Y/n had with her parents. But quite curiously, she didn't. She could feel to a scary degree. Feel what someone else was feeling, their movements, what they were doing— she just knew. It was unexplainable, as dissatisfying as it was. She realized Midoriya's face must've twisted, maybe he drew his brows or pinched his lips.

"Huh?"

Y/n could only laugh as she stopped in front of what she assumed was the door to the class she was in.

"What do you mean by..." Midoriya stopped beside her, voice caught in his throat and she could feel the air around him tense with his sudden rigidness, "ah the-the door's huge! Is it maybe for accessibility...?" 

The slight shift in the air was enough to let Y/n know he turned his head to face her and Y/n had faced in his direction as a response. 

"So, uhm... Are—are you in class A, too?"

Maybe, he was just being kind. Or maybe, he wanted to double-check Y/n successfully making her way around, her being blind and all. Wanted to know if she really was where she intended to be, and she couldn't bring herself to be upset about it. He was doing it with pure, kind-hearted intentions, looking out for her in the face of only meeting a few minutes ago.

She had run into more than a few people in her lifetime, all of who clearly felt that since her blindness wasn't their problem, it wasn't theirs to solve if she'd gotten herself into a bit of a rough situation.

Which... okay, fair enough. It wasn't their problem. But a little kindness could only improve a person.

It was also in the way Midoriya spoke. Now that she took specific note of it, he was shy and nervous, and there was something else, too. He seemed to lack a large amount of confidence in his own words, considering the trembling and the way his sentences faded into whispers. In spite of that, Y/n wouldn't comment on it.

She would decidedly give him a kind of reassurance and furrowed her brows happily, answering his question. "Yes, I am."

"Oh, good! Me, too! That's, uhm, really cool! This is—you know, the elite chosen from everyone who took the exam..." Y/n hummed and felt Midoriya shifting and shuffling his feet. "You think any scary people will be in here? I hope not..."

Y/n could only smile, holding her arms behind her back. "We'll probably be fine, I think."

"Right. Well, um. Let's be great heroes together!"

"Sure, Midoriya." Y/n smiled and Midoriya was sliding open the door.

The first thing she felt was the weight of the room and the clashing energies: there were a lot of people inside. She could feel the excitement, the nerves, the fear, the anger? Or, perhaps, she was mistaking that one for passion—

"Don't put your feet on the desk!"

No, it was definitely anger.

Y/n's brows shot into the air at that and she could hear a small, "eep!" come from Midoriya at the shout. She pressed her lips curiously, holding her arms behind her back in her typical stance as she rocked back and forth on the heels of her feet. Maybe that's what Midoriya meant by scary people.

"Huh?" The guy who seemed to have been getting shouted at drawled, long and almost condescendingly, just in a single hum.

"Don't you think that's rude to the UA upperclassmen and the people who made the desk?"

Y/n had to swallow down her laughter at that argument; the people who made the desk? They were probably long gone and off building desks somewhere else, or possibly buildings. She was never a fan of people who were so by the book and by the rules, simply because she just... wasn't. Listening to people and doing what they said, in general, annoyed her to a degree, in fact.

Y/n didn't bother listening to the small disagreement any further, in favor of getting a feel for her surroundings, and she left Midoriya's side. She could feel... everything, almost laughing at how silly it sounded, though it was the truth.

They were like weights around her; how the desks were lined up nice and neat, how the people were sitting at those desks, chattering amongst themselves. She tapped a desk each as she passed, the solid texture against the tip of her finger. Cold, hard, hollow.

She stopped at one seat, the familiar weight and energy were not in that particular area and she figured it was empty. Either that or she'd take her chances and land on someone's lap.

Luckily, her judgment was right, as it always seemed to be, and she dropped at the empty desk, placing her hands on the cool surface. She was in the middle row and didn't exactly know where. There were definitely people sitting on either side of her, and Y/n could only hope she was directly in the middle of the class.

"Whoa!" Y/n heard a dramatic, throaty gasp from beside her, felt whoever had spoken lean over so they were close. They were sparky and excited and Y/n had decided she could match his energy, immediately smiling as she turned to face him. "Your—!" He cut himself off.

Y/n's grin was sly and she drew her brows together, "I'm."

And the boy spoke again, a laugh that was rather contagious, sounding in her ears, "No, that's not— I was saying: your eyes! They're like, really cool!" He was close, probably inspecting the strange pale e/c and glassiness of them. Her mom told her they'd recently been getting paler, almost a silver tint, and she didn't know what that really meant, but it seemed to fascinate other people.

"You think so?" Y/n piqued, dropping her chin in the center of her palm. "Yours are probably cool, too. What color are they?"

"Uh," the boy laughed and Y/n just knew he was rubbing at the back of his neck in a no less than sheepish manner. 

Confusion, most likely, which was understandable. She also noted, based on his laugh and the shifting, that he didn't have the guts to confront her about the weirdness of what she just asked. 

"Well, they're yellow! See?" He was close and Y/n nodded very slowly.

"Oh, I do see."

She could feel the hesitation radiate from the boy she was speaking to. 

But yellow was an interesting color, based on everything she's ever heard about it growing up. She didn't even know what the color yellow was but heard it was bright. The opposite of dark. She didn't know what dark was, either.

People continuously asked her, "what can you see? Is it bright? Is it just black? What color do you see?" Y/n had no clue. What was black? How did they expect her to know what black was, if she had never seen it before?

What was dark? What was light? Y/n simply saw nothing. 

But, brightness had always been associated with something good, as was the color yellow. The sun; A star that shined to brighten up the day. Honey, smooth and it made tea a little sweeter. This guy could be described as the sun, within the first three seconds of meeting him. He was bright.

"I'm Kaminari! Denki Kaminari! Can't believe I actually got in, that's pretty awesome of me, huh?" He laughed. He was messing around with things that surrounded him a lot, touching his hair, fidgeting; Y/n could feel the movement in the shifting patterns— she wondered if his hair was as bright as his eyes. "You got in, so I bet you're pretty awesome, too, yeah? What's your name?"

"I'm L/n Y/n—"

"It took you eight seconds to be quiet."

Y/n pressed her lips shut, feeling a cold sweat and a nervous laugh make its way up her throat; the voice was deep and serious, probably her teacher. She hadn't even noticed he was there. Granted, for good reason... but then again, considering everything else the girl could do, it was safe to say she was definitely distracted this time.

"Time is limited, you kids aren't rational enough." 

There was a bit of silence, some movement, and Y/n could feel her teacher's weariness as he practically forced the next few words out of himself. 

"I'm your homeroom teacher, Aizawa Shouta—nice to meet you. Now, it's kind of sudden, but put these on and go out onto the field."

With that, everyone around her seemed to stand and move forward. The only thing Y/n could do was follow suit to the best of her ability.

***

A quirk assessment test.

Y/n could physically feel the nerves rising in her stomach, realizing she may have been in some kind of trouble. More trouble than trouble, actually. She didn't think she'd be humiliated so early in the game— she hadn't even gotten the chance to play mysterious yet. She wanted to at least pretend she knew what her quirk was before everyone inevitably found out she was a complete idiot. How was she supposed to use her quirk during a quirk assessment test if she had no clue what the hell it was?

Y/n truthfully, couldn't be bothered to listen to Aizawa's explanation—and something else she would call a little tangential—because she was too busy psyching herself out and working herself into a coughing fit. 

Panicking took a lot of focus and she couldn't multitask like that, just yet.

Realistically, she should calm down: panic really only made things worse and did little to solve the situation worth panicking over. It wasn't really the fear of humiliation or embarrassment or anything that was truly worrying her, however.

It was what Aizawa said.

The person who did worst out of all tests in said assessment would be punished with expulsion. 

Y/n's immediate thought was whether that was considered an appropriate punishment or not. Expulsion? That was (extremely) long-term and detrimental to anyone's record, let alone for a student aiming to be a hero. It was terrifying. Could he really do that?

And the fact that the weary teacher ended his statement with, "welcome to the hero course," only sent chilling shivers up the girl's spine, shoulders tensing and a small squeak pulling from her throat as she pressed her lips.

And then, they were starting the tests. The first one was a race. A 150-meter dash and Y/n couldn't say she was excited about it.

"You know, something about this," Y/n was tugging at the neck of the gym uniform she wore, pulling at the hems of the strange fabric, "just isn't adding up. Not the tests, but the uniform. It's uncomfortable." 

It felt weird on her back and around her shoulders. Just, wrong.

"U—uhm," She recognized the shrill and hesitant voice as Midoriya, and turned in his direction, still tugging on the collar of the shirt. Midoriya sucked in a shaky breath and breathed out, "You've got it on backwards."

Y/n jumped, pulling at her shirt tightly, "Oh— shit! Wait, really? Man, I think you're right..." She touched her fingers to the back of her neck, and sure enough, the space there was meant for the front of her neck so she could... breathe. "Damnit, how could I mess that up? This sucks... I could die, from like, suffocation—"

"How did you manage to put it on the wrong way?" Y/n was sure the voice belonged to Tenya Iida—the guy who was shouting about desk-making and the one who formally introduced himself to Midoriya earlier. "It's pretty straightforward."

"I don't know? Maybe I'm just like, blind," Y/n smiled, fingers folded into her palms with excitement to start the class, regardless of her backward attire. "Or something like that."

Iida hummed beside her thoughtfully before letting out a small gasp. "Oh! It's my turn to race!" He seemed to tense and let out a very quick breath. "I'm off!"

"So..." It left Y/n standing with a shaking Midoriya at her side as she rocked on the heels of her feet. She bit on the inside of her cheek, a slow smiling making its way to her face, "expelled, huh? You think he's being serious?"

Midoriya actually groaned, which seemed kind of unusual for him already. 

"I really hope not," he shifted his weight between his feet. "But I guess it's to be expected from UA... And from him, he's intimidating. It's all very extreme!"

"Right, right... extreme."

Y/n was in deep shit.

She knew that it was extremely likely she'd come out last, actually, so she couldn't explain why she felt a shaky grin tugging at her lips as she nudged the boy beside her with her elbow.

"Say, Midoriya," she said, smiling when the boy jumped in response. "Let's knock this one out of the park, me and you!"

Midoriya let out a shaky laugh, eerily similar to Y/n's.

"Well. I—I believe in positivity, believing in ourselves, and doing our best," he said. "But, if I remember correctly: you don't know what your quirk is and I... I don't know how to work mine without destroying myself completely. Like, I keep breaking my bones, so—urhm..."

"Well," Y/n pulled at her backward shirt, "that's—that's a bit of a problem. A minor inconvenience. Breaking your bones isn't pleasant, that, I know. But," she raised a fist, "I'm rooting for us!"

"At least, if we go down... we go down together?"

"That's the spirit!"

***

Y/n and Midoriya were, in fact, going down together.

They were shaping out horribly and though Y/n was doing considerably better than Midoriya (the kid was abnormally unathletic), they were still far behind the rest of the class. She'd just finished her ball throw of 40 meters and—well—she's had better days, to say the least.

It was Midoriya's turn, and honestly, Y/n was rooting for him more than herself.

He seemed desperate. Not in a bad way, either. Desperate to prove himself, his worth, to prove he belonged there, it was more drive than Y/n had herself. She couldn't help but admire his character and wish him the best as he got ready to throw the ball.

"It doesn't look good for Midoriya if he continues like this," Iida said from in front of Y/n as she rocked on the heels of her feet.

"Huh? Of course, not. He's a quirkless small fry, you know." Bakugou—the name she'd heard their teacher call him earlier—grumbled and Y/n couldn't help but raise a brow at that and move to counter his statement.

"Wait, you don't you know?" She said, stepping beside Bakugou. "He's not quirkless. It's just that every time he uses his quirk, he destroys his body. I think he breaks his bones and stuff, so it doesn't sound like something he'd use a lot. It does make sense why people would think he doesn't have a quirk, though."

"Huh?" Bakugou sounded genuinely confused as he faced Y/n before he clicked his tongue. "Tch. Like you'd know anything about Deku. And of course, it's one quirkless fry defending another."

Y/n frowned, letting her head fall to the side, "huh?"

"You're in the same boat as the nerd. It's why you're defending him, I can tell," Bakugou explained, almost casually. "The only reason you're not doing the worst is cause Deku just sucks at everything he does, and you're probably a little less shitty than he is. But you haven't used your supposed quirk, so—"

"You think I don't have a quirk because I haven't used it?"

Bakugou huffed, "Yeah, I do. Either that or you're a dumbass who accidentally made it in by pure luck, and you haven't even figured out how to work your own quirk yet. That's a stretch though. Going years without figuring out how to work your quirk just proves how pathetic someone is— like shitty Deku if what you're telling me is true and he really does have a stupid quirk."

"Really?" Y/n whispered, kind of panicked.

Did everyone think this way about her already? In the eyes of others, she was either quirkless or a loser who hadn't figured out her quirk yet, and—yes, the latter was true, but still. She didn't want people knowing it was true.

She straightened up, "I— well, I just— my quirk is just so amazing, that it wouldn't make sense to use it here! So..."

"Oh please," his dismissive words didn't match his tone of interest. "You're bluffing. Who chooses to let everyone think they're a loser over not using their quirk that's apparently sooo fuckin' amazing?—Dumbasses." 

He was telling her to tell him. If only.

"Mysteries!" Y/n declared her counter, a faint 'humph' lacing the word. "I'd tell you, but then I'd have to kill you."

Y/n stopped, dropping her voice at the sudden near-silence. "Wait, why is it quiet, what's happening?"

"Looks like Mr. Aizawa is talking to Midoriya..." Iida muttered.

"Is he actually?" Y/n frowned, tugging on her ear. "Why? What happened? Did he throw the ball or what?"

"He did, but it didn't get very far," Iida hummed thoughtfully. "It seems like Mr. Aizawa erased his Quirk."

Bakugou grunted in confirmation. 

"Yeah his supposed Quirk. Got no idea what he's saying now, but he's most likely telling the nerd he's expelled." There was a cackle at the end of his words and Y/n felt her face heat.

"Nah, I doubt it. Midoriya has way too much drive and his Quirk is awesome. Y'know, besides the entire 'I break all of my bones when I use it' thing he has going for him." She tilted her head to face Bakugou, "is he facing toward us? Read his lips, I want to know what's happening,"

"Fuck off, you blind or somethin?" Bakugou sneered; he was shifting. "Do it yourself; I don't give a shit about what they're talking about."

"Hmph, you shouldn't use that as an insult," Y/n folded her arms. "Some people are actually blind, you know."

There was a pause and a noise of acknowledgment. 

"Are you actually blind? Can't see shit or whatever?"

"Or whatever."

"Are you serious." There was an irritated huff. "Are you blind or what?"

"Or what."

"Answer my damn question, already!" Bakugou shouted and Y/n remembered that he was the guy with his feet on the desk. It was easy to forget when having a semi-normal conversation; almost pleasant. "Stop dodging them!"

"Whoa, whoa, okay!" Y/n raised her hands in surrender. "I'm an opportunist, if I see an opening for a joke, I take it! If anything, I should be thanking you for giving me the chance to do what I do best: deny, deny, deny. So, really, thank you—"

"You are blind."

"What!" Y/n jumped, brows raised, "You guessed?"

"Wait, you're blind?" Iida faced Y/n curiously, getting close. "Oh, your eyes. I thought that was simply a myth. Interesting. How do—"

A gust of wind cut Iida off and caught Y/n off guard as she stumbled a little before returning her attention to the front, where Midoriya was. Her jaw dropped. 

"Hey, that was Midoriya, right? Oh my god—how much you wanna bet he did better than you," Y/n nudged at the boy who stood beside her with a low laugh, paying almost no mind when he slapped her hand away.

"Fuck off, what the fuck!" He shouted, shifting a fair distance. "There's no damn way that stupid nerd could—!" Bakugou cut himself off and Y/n figured, with an immense amount of delight, that she had been right.

The feeling of both extreme happiness and extreme anger hit the girl full force as her fingers jolted at her side; she could guess very well which feeling belonged to whom.

Bakugou stood concerningly quiet beside Y/n, save for the slow, almost threatening breathing like he was two seconds away from blowing something up. And considering his quirk, that would be detrimental.

In an attempt to lighten the mood, Y/n folded her arms over her chest with a loud laugh. 

"So the Quirkless kid is better than you, huh?"

There was a pause, and his anger was almost suffocating.

"Shut. The fuck. Up." He growled. "Your shirt is... fucking backwards. You idiot."

As he stormed off, his fragrance rather chilling and sharp, similar to that of a blizzard mixed with... quite possibly lightning. Y/n stood, confused. He was serious about his words before, then, and she seemed to have struck a nerve.

Y/n blew out a low whistle, tugging at the front of her shirt which still indeed, was supposed to be the back.

"Tough crowd, then."

***

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