༉˚*ೃ ᵒ³. 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐄𝐒!

𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈 𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 going to scream. Or jump around. Or cry. One of those three. Her father had come into her room at 6:20AM, a whole two hours before her first U.A. class was going to take place, to find the girl miraculously already awake and getting herself ready for the day. Violently brushing her thin hair into their long pigtails, two on either side of her head—if she was going to stand out as a Pro Hero, she may as well start crafting her look now, and she'd been wearing her hair like that since elementary—, Tsubame had never been so alert so early. After the catastrophe at the Entrance Exam, she'd sworn that she wouldn't be late on the first day. Her fifty or so alarms had begun all the way at 4:30AM.

          "Oh, Tsubamemochi," said her dad in surprise, blinking even deeper when she placed her hairbrush down and began to work on her makeup, in the small bedroom mirror. Makeup wasn't always something Tsubame bothered with—but this was her first day at a new high school, a hero school, and fuck if Tsubame wasn't going to look her very best. "You're awake." She herself was surprised too, as she slapped on some shaky liquid eyeliner and tried to brighten up her cheeks.

          "Yeah," exchanged the girl in return, looking over her pristine face in the mirror, that was not yet marked in scars. "Thanks for checking, though." It came out in a huff of a laugh. At least he wouldn't let her sleep in, this time.

          He tapped at the doorframe, clearly not wanting to impede on her rush of getting ready, as the fifteen-year-old fretted over what shade of lip-gloss to use. "I'll wait downstairs to see you off."

          Her crisp U.A. uniform, consisting of a white button-up shirt, a red tie, a grey blazer, and a navy skirt, had arrived clean and ironed a few days earlier and was hanging in its plastic protection sleeve on the handle of her wardrobe. The longer she stared at it, the more she was hesitant to even take it out of the plastic. It looked expensive, and she couldn't bear to think the amount of money that her father and Miki must have rustled up just to afford it.

          When I make it big as a Pro Hero, Tsubame promised herself, I'll pay them back.

          When she did slip on the crisp uniform, she was delighted to find that it fit perfectly. It was made of comfortable fabric and cinched lightly around her waist. Tsubame glanced at herself in the mirror—her soft, young face, brunette hair pulled up in its many signature pigtails, and with a U.A. High uniform tucked over her. The girl still couldn't really believe it. But she was wearing the uniform. Now, anyone she walked past would know that Akatsuki Tsubame, or That-Girl-With-the-Weird-Hair, had gotten into Japan's most prestigious hero school on her own hard work alone. Pride bloomed up within her.

          She pulled on some knee-high grey socks that fit the shade of the blazer, ones that were fluffy and warm and that she wouldn't tear more holes into. Then Tsubame fished out her biggest encyclopedia on life in the animal kingdom, and shoved it into her backpack. Along with her several own notebooks of important animal information. Just in case she needed to use her Quirk for an animal she wasn't quite used to. The backpack was a classic shade of yellow, decorated with two embroidered patches: one of Rabbit Hero: Miruko grinning with her biceps flexed, that Tomomi had convinced her to buy; the other of a panther baring its canines. Everything that she'd need for the day, plus items that were a result of overthinking, were thrown into it. Notebooks, her Eevee pencil case, a tin of mints, phone charger, chapstick, Sailor Moon Vol. 7, her wallet, and a water bottle. Then she headed downstairs.

           For the first time in forever, Tsubame actually caught Miki before work. The eldest sister headed to work at 6:50 every morning to catch the bus to her grocery store job in the city—and it was mostly before Tsubame was even awake. But this time, hers was the first face she saw when she hopped down the steep staircase. Miki's long brunette hair pooled around her jaw and over her shoulders, for once free of its ponytail, as her purple eyes glanced up. "Oh, hey, Tsubamemochi," her sister said, as Tsubame sat down at the kotatsu with her to join in on the breakfast. "Glad to see you're up early." She shovelled her mouth with rice. Tsubame would have rolled her eyes at the jest had it not been such a valid point.

          "Can't be late for the first day," explained Tsubame sheepishly, tapping her socked toes against the floor beneath the heated table. "The Entrance Exam scared me enough." She'd decided that for U.A., either someone was going to have to wake her up in the mornings, or she was going to have construct her own Rube Goldberg machine to douse her with water at 6:30AM each day. For now, though, Tsubame yawned into her palm and cracked her neck.

          A platter of healthy breakfast was set out in front of Tsubame by her father: bowls and plates of natto rice, pickled vegetables, grilled salmon, nori with soy sauce, pickles, and miso with clams. A lot could be said about the Akatsuki family—about its rocky start, the place where they lived, their chaotic amalgamation of quiet and over-the-top personalities too chaotic for some—but Akatsuki Kazuo's cooking could not be underestimated. For Tsubame, that was what came with having a cook as a father. It was particularly useful with the amount of food she needed to consume for her Quirk. "Momi's asleep," her father let her know as she thanked him and started to dig into the meal. He'd already packed her a bento box—no, two, she noted, in case her Quirk drained her of her energy. It sat out on the kitchenette counter.

          "That's okay," Tsubame replied, alternating between the selection of breakfast foods. "She let me know last night that I should have a good day. I bet she'll be texting me every half-hour anyway." As a pot of green tea was placed down in front of the two sisters, Tsubame glanced up at her father, "Thanks, Dad."

          Tsubame poured Miki a cup of the drink too. "She knows she's not supposed to be texting while she's in class," added the older sister casually, one of her brows raised a little as she finished off her grilled fish. As if anything could deter Tomomi.

          "Think she's gonna be as much of a troublemaker as me?" joked Tsubame snidely, who had gotten dozens of detentions in middle school from being unable to focus and flicking through her phone instead.

          The smile from Miki indicated that, yes. "She takes right after you." She hid her smile against the cup of tea as she took a drink. "You know, she's going to want to go into the hero business too."

          "Even if she wasn't following my footsteps in that, she'd want to be a hero anyway," Tsubame acknowledged. She was almost done with her food—wolfing it down like she was starved. "Like Miruko," she said, at the same time Miki echoed the same name. The famous Rabbit Hero's name went rarely unsaid in their household, with Tomomi's obsession with her. A twenty-something muscular female Pro Hero with a rabbit mutant Quirk who had been climbing the hero rankings over the past years, and was now Number Seven on the billboard. Miruko was about as loved as she was feared, and Tomomi had been looking up to her ever since she first saw the Rabbit Hero on TV. It was a confidence boost that Tsubame had a similar Quirk in several ways.

          "Just wait 'til you become a Pro Hero and beat Miruko in the rankings—that'd be the day."

          A sense of pride struck Tsubame's chest, knowing that her older sister believed she'd at some point be a high-ranking hero. It was also met with Tsubame's own snort and shaking of the head, her eyebrows raising. "No way. Can you imagine being above Miruko on the billboard? That would be terrifying. She'd crush me." If Tsubame had a muscle goal, it was definitely Miruko. To most, thinking of a rabbit Quirk would bring up the idea of timidness, submission, and a frightened twitching nose. Anyone who'd ever seen the Rabbit Hero kick down walls with her strong feet, detect civilians in need of rescue miles away with her big rabbit ears, or stick out her fluffy tail before she drove a villain through the floor of a building while grinning cockily knew better. The brash, tough, outspoken, grinning woman had tossed the stereotype of shy rabbits right out the window along with a lot of criminals.

          Tsubame pretend not to hear Miki's snide comment of, "As if you'd complain about that," into her tea.

          Her eyes glanced towards the clock as she finished her meal, and Tsubame stood. "I've got to head off now. Can't be late this time." She slung her backpack over a single arm, carrying the plates and bowls over to the kitchen sink. She picked up the bento boxes her dad had made for her and slipped them in her backpack, amongst the cram of her other things. "Thank you so much for these, Dad."

          Kazuo placed a gentle hand on his daughter's head, careful not to ruin her hairstyle. Each pigtail was tied up with a thin teal hair-tie. "You're welcome. Good luck with school. I know you're going to do great." That same expression of praise made Tsubame's chest go warm again, feeling happy and proud with herself. "Our hero, Tsubamemochi."

          She let out a small laugh and hugged him tight. "That'll be a few more years. But thanks."

          "Have fun at U.A., okay?" said Miki from the kotatsu. She looked serious: pointed her chopsticks at Tsubame in a no-bullshit manner. "It better be everything you ever hoped for."

          A grin lifted Tsubame's face as she slipped the other backpack strap over her shoulder. "It will be," she assured. "Tell Momi I'm sorry I couldn't catch her." She inhaled as she walked to the genkan, slipping on her new brown school shoes when she reached the small area. Her hands were buzzing with nervous energy, she tapped her fingers against each of her wrists. "I'll see you both later!"

          "Have fun!" her dad called as she cracked open the front door.

          "Don't get into too much trouble," was Miki's reply.

          Tsubame snorted in amusement to herself and waved a hand to them as she stepped out into the fresh air and in her U.A. uniform. Then she began to walk.

          The bus ride was just slightly terrifying.

          She caught the local bus to the centre of town, and the entire way—even with her headphones on playing her favourite playlist, and her fingers tapping along rapidly in an attempt to calm her—, all Tsubame could think about was U.A.. The fact that it was her first day, that it was a whole new journey and that she barely even knew what she was getting herself into. And now, for the first time ever, All Might was going to be a teacher there. All Might. The greatest hero in Japan— no, maybe the whole world. It was rare to find someone who didn't look up to All Might. The way he saved people with a smile no matter the situation. She'd heard that he'd been sighted around Musutafu in the last couple of months, but now the Number One Hero was going to be teaching her—or at least some students in the same school as her. She didn't know what to expect at all.

          Those notions of slight anxiety, soothed a little by her music, jolted when she got off at her bus stop in the city. Then she casually strolled down the sidewalk with her phone in hand and earphones pressed into her ears, taking the brief three-minute walk to the closest underground subway station. There, the steps descended down into the earth. But something captured her attention. There was a bubble tea shop just across from the subway that caught Tsubame's eye, called Pearl Hero. It looked small, and the line wasn't too long, and Tsubame decided in that moment that if she didn't get her boba fix before her first day at U.A. she would simply perish.

          So, getting her boba fix was exactly what she did. She ordered her standard lychee milk black tea with tapioca pearls, feeling like something sweet to start off the day with. Considering first-day classes began at 8:15, and it was just 7:24, Tsubame felt safe waiting around a bit. When she spent the ¥420 and collected her large boba, the pearls bobbing around inside, Tsubame took a single sip and headed back to the subway entrance.

          Tsubame hopped down the steps, passing businesspeople, elementary and middle and high school students, busy parents and retail workers as she plunged into the depths of the metro. Japan's subway system was a winding maze of different metro lines and labyrinthine ways to get there—confused foreigners could often be spotted walking around in circles—, but to Tsubame and everyone else who lived in Musutafu, it was just second nature. Followed the lilac painted lines through the underground metro while barely even looking, just scrolling away at social media on her phone.

          U.A. High School had its very own stop along the Musutafu line (occasionally known as the 'B line' or 'lilac line'), with a train running every fifteen minutes. Tsubame had missed the 7:15 one, but another was due again soon, so she lined up on the left side of the metro station. Her feet planted themselves a few paces away from the drop onto the tracks. Then, all there was to do was scroll through social media mindlessly again. Look at all the photos of her old middle school classmates, who looked like they were having fun. Tsubame's own page had a few old pictures with a couple of them, at birthday parties or school events, but she hadn't been invited to anything since middle school grad. Tsubame kind of wished she was in some of the grinning images they were posting on her timeline now.

          She wasn't the only one waiting at the metro stop dressed in a U.A. uniform, though Tsubame bet she was the only First Year. There were four others: three boys, and one girl. All were on their phone, except for one boy who was flipping through a manga. They all looked so cool and put together... A little self-consciously, Tsubame glanced down at her own U.A. uniform and long grey socks. She couldn't believe she was really going to the same school as them. Still, the bubbling feeling of excitement was pooling in her veins. It was a mix of glee and nerves. Tsubame spent the time waiting for the train by flicking back and forth between her favourite upbeat songs in her music playlist.

          When the train finally arrived, it was crammed as usual. There were even more U.A. students inside—in fact, they were a severe higher ratio compared to the other non-U.A. affiliated passengers. Tsubame had no idea if the students surrounding her within the train, as the doors slid shut, were First or Second or Third years, but they certainly got to know each other pretty intimately with the squeezed space as the train jostled around and some boy elbowed her lightly in the face. Tsubame didn't get the chance to drink her boba on the subway, amongst the crammed bodies, but she did make sure it was cradled close against her chest.

          Getting off at the stop labelled 'U.A. High School' was about as chaotic as she imagined. Hundreds of students stepping out of the train and pouring back up the subway steps. Tsubame almost got tripped. Something about this all made her feel so out of her depth—but it also just made her excited. Caught up in the river of U.A. students, she let herself be pushed towards the subway exit, climbing the steps with the rest of them. It was a jostling mess. Despite the amount of shoulders she was bumping, Tsubame walked up the staircase and emerged into the light, just before the entrance gates.

          U.A. High School was gigantic.

           Tsubame's elementary and middle schools had all been small, pokey buildings with just enough room to teach the kids in her section of the ward. She'd found the smaller size cosy and comforting—that close-proximity classroom with colourful pictures pinned to the wall and small yard was all she'd ever known in terms of school, and even if she'd sometimes had to squeeze past her classmates to get to the teacher's desk, it had always been... normal. Walking through the gates and up the path of U.A. felt like she was entering the gaping jaws of a titanic beast. She'd been rushing during her dash to the Entrance Exam. Now she took it all in.

          She wasn't the only one. All over the campus there were First Years looking lost. From the Hero Course (which Tsubame was enrolled in), General Studies, the Support Course, and the Business Course alike, they could be seen staring around at the vast grounds. Luckily, U.A. pretty much only had one massive interconnected building in its centre, and that was where Tsubame headed. To the First-Year level.

          She clutched her still half-full boba milk tea in her fingers as she traversed the halls along with the rest of the wave of First Years, who looked about just as lost as she felt. Her big yellow eyes glanced off of the different classroom numbers. Her old school had just had a single classroom per year. She half-tripped over some short girl with a brunette mushroom-like haircut, blurting out a, "Sorry!" as she stumbled. Then Tsubame continued down the hall, eyes catching on the room names. 1-E. 1-D. 1-C. 1-B.

          Tsubame's feet came to a stop. There it was: the class that had been in her orientation letter. 1-A. She stopped in front of it, gazing up with her hand holding the strap of her backpack. The door was large enough to fit pretty much anyone with a mutant quirk, and it was inscribed with the same classroom name. The young girl only paused for a moment, taking a second to inhale and steel herself of any previous tension.

          When Tsubame walked into Class 1-A, it was with a nervous, parted-lips expression and a plastic takeaway cup of lychee milk boba clutched in her left hand. The room was relatively large, fitting several rows of desks—there was a set of lockers at the back, and teacher's desk and blackboard up the front. A bunch of students were already there, talking to one another or putting away their things. Some shifted to look at her.

          All of Tsubame's nerves absolutely fell away when her gaze caught a familiar face.

          "No way!" Her over-loud, excited shout carried around the small classroom, and pretty much every student turned towards her. There was a girl with pink skin, a short boy who must have been like 100cm, one kid with the head of a crow—but Tsubame's eyes were only focused on the boy with the cherry red hair who was speaking with a couple of other classmates.

          Kirishima Eijirou's head snapped in her direction. His vibrant hair was an even more astounding shade of red in this lighting, vivid, and his eyes of the same crimson colour widened dramatically when he saw her. A sharp-toothed grin spread across his face instantly. Dimples pushed at his cheeks. "Akatsuki-san!" Then he was shoving past the desks to jog over to her, and Tsubame was doing the same.

         "Kirishima-san!" Tsubame shouted back in delight. She wasn't sure what made her raise her hand in enthusiastic high-five as they met half-way, but then the red-haired boy was meeting her own and their palms connected rapidly and violently with a loud 'smack!' that really, really hurt but was also entirely dulled by Tsubame's exhilaration. She was hopping on her toes—their impossibly wide grins matched. The other boy seemed to barely even feel the painful slap. "You got in!" Her cry was victorious and wild.

         "So did you!" he exclaimed back to her, their energies matched. His arms were thrown out excitedly. The boy was a fair bit taller than her, and his spiked-up hair added an extra inch or so onto that already height. It was difficult to figure out whose grin was infecting the other. It seemed that neither of them had discovered how loud they were being.

         Tsubame pumped her arms animatedly with closed fists. "What's your Quirk?!" Excitement was pumping her veins, and she was jumping with fervour from foot to foot. The fifteen-year-old's entire face was lit up with a grin—yellow eyes bright, eyebrows high, cheeks aching, and her expression practically glowing.

         The other boy seemed about just as gleeful to show her. His grin sharpened, lifting to a slight smirk to reveal more jagged teeth as his brows shifted to a more tough position. "Hardening!" On cue, his hands stretched out in front of him—fingers grew tough like stone, elongated and sharpened at the end. The rock-like hardened quality of his skin stretched across his hands and down his wrists.

          Her eyes went big. Round sun-like saucers of vibrant sunflowers and daffodils. "Holy shit! Can I punch it?!" Tsubame, as everyone, had grown up around people with Quirks. She hadn't a member of her family who was Quirkless, and throughout her years of preschool, and elementary, and middle school, each of her classmates' Quirks had been new and unique and interesting. But now she was in a school just for Quirks, just for being a hero, and never had she been so excited to be surrounded by them. It was a childish kind of giddiness that she probably hadn't felt since she was very little.

          Kirishima Eijirou grinned even wider behind his hardened arms, his brows pulled smugly down. "Go ahead." The determined expression on his face wasn't a detergent for Tsubame, who was instantly curling her own fingers into tight fists. Grey fur crawled up her hands, stopping about a third of the way up her wrist, bones cracking and realigning, fingernails sharpening into claws, until what she had was a perfectly mutated wolf hand, still human enough for her fingers to flex and draw into tight fists. The muscles in her arm flexed as she drew back, a thrilled grin pulling across her face. All sharp teeth and animalistic wrapped up with joy. Tsubame delivered the blow in a strong swing, arm coming down hard and powerful. It was like hitting concrete. Her fist pushed Kirishima back on his feet, if barely, and the reverberations shuddered back up her hand and arm in a tremor. Had she tried to hit the surface without using her Quirk, her fingers would likely be aching by now. Kirishima seemed thrilled, "Woah! That packs a punch!" Tsubame knew it. She hadn't spent the past two years training in gyms for this exact day at U.A. for nothing. He stared at her in excitement. "What's your Quirk?"

          Her hands were in agony, but he didn't have to know that.

          "DNA Alteration!" She grinned while sticking her finger and thumb up in the air, like a kind of hero pose. "I can alter my DNA sequence in real time and form my body or body-parts into any living animal." To demonstrate, she curled her hands in front of her, palms facing upwards, as the bone alignment changed and the fur shifted achingly from grey to leopard-print, growing coarser and sharp. Tsbuame's grin hid her wince. He watched in awe at the shift, the rewrapping of muscles and nerves. Then, with a lopsided grin, she pulled her still half-human fingers into tight, victorious fists. Tsubame would not let herself indicate how much it hurt. "I mostly stick with mammals, though. They're the easiest." Big cats and wolves, if she was being completely honest with herself, but there was no reason to let that weakness slip. Instead, she just planted her hands on either of her hips and beamed.

          "That's so cool!" Kirishima forced his hardened hands into fists and brought them together knuckle-to-knuckle with a tough crash in front of his chest. His arms shuddered.

          The feeling of total, unbridled joy and excitement bubbling up in her chest got to be too much, proven when she continued to hop from one foot to the other and flap her right hand a little, using her left to jostle the boba tapioca pearls around in the cup. There was some argument already going on across the other side of the room, but Tsubame ignored it in favour of Kirishima Eijirou, who was grinning his shark-like teeth at her as she exclaimed excitedly, "Man, am I glad to see a friendly face! I was so scared I was going to get here and be all on my own!" Tsubame sipped some more of her bubble tea out of the corner of her mouth, careful not stab the straw on her sharp upper canines.

          Kirishima smacked his hand to his forehead in the same wavelength, with a grin. "Me too!" Both students' energy was infectious. "I was shocked to see Ashido-san over there, she and I went to the same middle school." He pointed to the bright pink girl, who was waving her arms around dramatically at something the crow-headed classmate had said. Yellow horns rose out of her hair. The bird boy, whose name Tsubame was still currently unaware of, seemed reserved and solemn in comparison to his eccentric bubblegum-coloured peer—his arms lightly crossed, and his beak shut impartially to let the other girl apparently get it out of her system.

          Tsubame immediately decided that Pink Girl—Ashido—looked like someone she wanted to be friends with.

          That was only if the other girl wanted to be friends back in the first place, because Tsubame's track record with the term 'friends' had been patchy at the best. Too loud, too excitable, you know? Tsubame got it. She could still hope, though. It might be different this time. Maybe she wouldn't get discarded at U.A. when her energy got too tiring. "Is that so?" she spoke back to Kirishima, barely realising that her lychee tea was almost totally drained. Her fingers swirled the straw around the bottom of the plastic cup, rolling some tapioca pearls around mindlessly. Tsubame's gaze held on Ashido even as the pink student spun around and began chatting happily with a floating female school uniform. It took Tsubame a bit longer than she'd like to admit before she realised that said floating uniform was probably a girl with an invisibility Quirk. "She seems nice."

          "She's awesome!" Kirishima waved his arms around, beaming, his voice relatively low but filled with excitement and pride. "Last year, there was a villain that cornered some girls in my school on the street. Ashido-san ran in there and put herself in front of our classmates before pointing the villain away." Kirishima tightened his fist and pumped it upwards determinedly. "I hope I can be as brave as her someday."

          The gasp that left Tsubame's mouth was awe-ridden, "You've both had an encounter with a villain?!" For all her constant watching of heroes vs villains battles on the TV news, and Tomomi pulling her down to look at 'MIRUKO'S GREATEST MOMENTS' compilations on YouTube, and Miki dragging her away when some wannabe tried to start chaos in Musutafu, the fifteen-year-old had never truly come face to face with a real villain. Of course, the prefecture was famous for it—it was pretty regular to come across a battle on your way to school or while shopping for groceries—but that also meant that by the time Tsubame got anywhere near danger, a Pro Hero was already handling it. No time to actually face evil. She'd been stuck to watch All Might and Best Jeanist's fights through a screen, or Kamui Woods and the newer Mt Lady battle it out with a villain from the window of a 24-hour convenience store. "That must have been scary, right?" Her hand crushed the empty plastic cup as it made a synthetic sound, yellow eyes wide.

          "Super scary," admitted Kirishima, eyes shooting towards the ceiling. Embarrassment? "I wish I'd done something. But at least Ashido had it under control!" He offered her another lopsided grin—terribly endearing, really—, as his red eyes shone. In the time they'd been speaking, someone new had entered the classroom behind her back. That much was obvious by the discussion of female and male voices by the classroom door. Kirishima, already proving to be a social butterfly, briefly waved his hand at whoever had entered behind Tsubame's shoulder, his blinding grin stretched wide. Curious, Tsubame turned to peer back. The newcomer—who was speaking to a tall boy with glasses and a short brunette girl Tsubame had never seen before—had bright green hair, big eyes, and a splash of freckles spattered across his face. He looked started to see Kirishima's wave and the other girl's yellow gaze on him.

          Tsubame pointed curiously at the short boy—a hypocritical thought, considering they were pretty much the exact same height—, "Oh, hey, it's you!" He looked actually shocked at being addressed, and jabbed a finger at his own chest with big, round eyes. Tsubame just grinned: a wide one that exposed her sharp and deadly canines. "You were sitting on the other side of blond bastard, right?" Her already extended forefinger pointed upwards in consideration, cheeks pressed up and squished from the edges of her grin.

          She didn't even know the green-haired boy's name, but he stammered nervously, "Y-you mean Kacchan?" The expression in his eyes told Tsubame that he definitely knew exactly who she was, considering she'd called the blond at this kid's right a bastard straight to his face.

          Her face formed into a pout. "Kacchan? That's an awfully cute name for a bastard like that," scowled Tsubame grumpily, crossing her arms. Who looked at that shitty-tempered disaster child and named them something like Kacchan?

          The boy she was speaking to seemed to have a panic. What was he so jumpy for? "No! That's, uh, a nickname—" The boy, clearly nervous, rubbed his hand against the back of his neck and waved his other one in front of them in a gesture of apology. "His name is Bakugou Katsuki." Nickname? This kid actually knew the bastard? That had to be a shitty position to be in. "Oh—! And I'm Midoriya." Every word he spoke was frayed with nerves. Had he not been so outwardly anxious, he might have reminded her a little of Tomomi.

          "I'm Akatsuki, it's nice to meet you, Midoriya-san." She grinned courteously, hands planting on her hips. Whenever she smiled a bit too wide, it revealed her sharp upper canines, that pressed over her bottom lip.

          Kirishima, casually, as if they'd known each other for years, leant his elbow atop her left shoulder and grinned lopsidedly at Midoriya. "My name's Kirishima Eijirou!" With his arm that wasn't resting on Tsubame, Kirishima jolted an enthusiastic thumb towards his chest. The two students with sharp teeth and matching grins were radiating positive energy, between where Tsubame had a leg casually leant back, and Kirishima's bodyweight was relying on the solidness of her shoulder.

          "It's good to meet you!" squawked the short boy, still looking rather nervous. Perhaps Tsubame and Kirishima's loud energy was proving to be too much.

          Her mouth had opened to ask the boy about what Quirk he had, when her train of thought was interrupted. The light crackling explosion that drew Tsubame's attention away from the small, big-eyed green boy, to the loud sound's source, had come from her left. Whatever she'd been expecting, with Kirishima and Midoriya's head turning in synch with hers, what her safflower eyes found was at the very bottom of her U.A. experience wishlist.

         What. The. Fuck.

          Blond Bastard—Bakugou Katsuki, whatever—was in the classroom. With her. Sitting on a chair, looking aloof and antagonizing, his feet kicked up on the table in front of him and a grin spread across his face as he argued with a taller male student. Small crackles emitted from his curled hands that seemed to egg his ego on. His eyes happened to tilt in her direction just as she did his, and their gazes met with a clash of sunflower yellow and blood red. "Damn extra, you're here too?" His voice grated out across the room, displeased and ready for a fight. His lip was curled up in a drawl.

          Kirishima and Midoriya, both who'd seen first-hand what could happen when the chaotic brunette and blond were put in a close proximity situation, immediately looked alarmed. Midoriya's face went pale, while Kirishima's eyes widened and his pointed teeth parted almost unsurely. Electricity shot between Bakugou and Tsubame's held gazes—not the good kind. Her teeth were bared on their own accord. There was no Present Mic or Pro Hero to hold them back now. "Should I have told you about that?" murmured Kirishima to her, quiet voice coming out in a bit of a hiss, but despite good intentions it was a bit late for that.

          "Got a problem?" Tsubame asked the bastard, with her eyes practically shining headlights of danger, a snarl in her tone. The half a classroom span between the two students suddenly seemed like not at all enough. Its palpable tension had caught the attention of a few other students. Pink-haired Ashido, the crow boy, and the invisible girl turned to look at the unfolding sight from their conversation—well, Tsubame could only assume for the girl whose face was entirely transparent. Along with Midoriya and Kirishima, their eyes darted nervously between both students. If Tsubame knew her, she might think that Ashido looked a little excited.

          Somehow, seeing Bakugou's lilting, smug grin was even worse than a glare. "How the fuck 'd you make it through the Entrance Exam, Shitty Face?" Oh, definitely worse. His brows were pulled downwards, creating his expression as one of malicious intent rather than simply just an egotistical smile, and his voice was a gravelly drawl. "A small fry like you doesn't stand a chance. I don't know what kind of shitty Magical Girl manga you fucking side character popped out from, but U.A. isn't for free-loaders." Once again, the aggressive words were said with a carved grin and fiery red eyes—and basically gave off the same disrespect and energy as a shouting match.

          I was late one time!

          Tsubame untangled herself from Kirishima, pushed past Midoriya, and stormed threateningly right over to the smug punk who was grinning like he was ready for a fight. He hopped off the table too, looking eager. The classroom watched in awed silence as the two new students strode towards each other with an aura of total violence surrounding them, and met in the middle—just like Tsubame and Kirishima had earlier, except this time with a lot more anger and snarls and invisible smoke pouring out of their ears. All that held the distance between them was a rather annoying desk, that both rivals instantly pressed their bodies up against in an attempt to get closer and wring the other's neck.

          "You wanna go, bastard?!" the girl exclaimed, her teeth bared in a way that was totally animalistic—though, it seemed, that even despite Bakugou's lack of animal Quirk, he was pulling off the same kind of expression.

          "How about it, Shitty Face?!" His yell back was just as fuelled by anger. The single desk was all that separated the two. It probably wasn't enough. Small crackles popped in the blond's hands, miniature explosions that sent heat scattering between the two, and Tsubame felt the prickle of fur began to split through her fingers and up her hands. Their height difference was startling, but the total aggression on Tsubame's face made up for any disadvantage.

          Her knuckles cracked before she slammed her hands against the desk, nails—that had, at some point, began to elongate into claws—dragging at the wood. "I'll fucking bury you, shitty-tempered asshole!"

          The blond bastard, for all his anger, seemed to not be used to someone talking back to him in such a manner that matched his own. Bakugou's face scrunched up even further—if that was possible—eyes narrowed and blazing blood red as his snarl deepened to match her own. His body angled forward in an attempt to intimidate her. "DIE!"

          Tsubame's fingers clawed deeper into the desk, leaving deep rakes behind, as she pushed herself up onto her toes so she was almost eye-level with him. "YOU DIE!" The words were spat in a snarl, her predator canines bared. The rest of the room was bathed in silence. Puncturing their words and the thick anger in the air was the sound of Tsubame's low growl deep within her throat, and the crackling of Bakugou's hands, both of which seemed to be increasing and growing louder by the second. Bakugou's fingers moved first, and Tsubame was pressing back on her haunches—that deeply frightening look on her face closest akin to a wolf's snarl, lips drawn back, nose filled with crinkles, brows sharpened into deep divots—, ready to fight right back. Would there be a murder in Class 1-A already?

          "Excuse me!" Whoever pushed in front of Tsubame and scooted the desk she was holding onto back several meters—her with it—, was clearly braver than anyone should be, because Bastard looked like he was about to blow the classroom several inches high, and Tsubame herself had her claws and teeth out in a greeting of war. Her feet were slid along the floor, hands still gripping the desk, before the desk and Tsubame with it came to an abrupt stop several meters away—the distance spanning Tsubame and Bakugou now considered safe. A male voice, the one who had interrupted, sounded out authoritatively, "You shouldn't be fighting in class!" Scathingly, and also confused, Tsubame's yellow eyes flickered up to meet her classmate's face. His gaze was hidden behind a pair of shiny rectangular glasses that glinted in the fluorescent classroom light. "It's disrespectful to our U.A. upperclassmen who once stood where we are right now!"

          Oh, she recognised this guy. He was the one who'd spoken out during the exam briefing. He'd scolded her and the other three students she'd been sat with. Damn, he really was tall.

          Though the bastard behind the tall boy had explosions crackling in his hands—looking ready for murder—, shouting to himself with his teeth bared, Tsubame decided she was going to be above it all. (She was definitely going to hunt down Bakugou in the school yard later and punt him in the back of the head with a fist). She straightened herself, let her claws and big teeth retreat, and asked with her head tilted up curiously, "Sorry, who are you?"

          "I'm Iida Tenya!" He spoke his own name with such force and propriety that Tsubame was almost blown away, waving his arm in front of him. Woah. The sudden sound and intensity of his words made her wince a little, before her yellow eyes blinked. "I'm from Somei Private Academy." Private Academy...? Some rich boy, huh? "You were one of the examinees I scolded during the examination briefing, along with Bakugou-san." He bowed properly at the waist slightly. "I'd like to apologise for my rudeness that day, and I was sure I'd misjudged you after seeing you in this classroom—but fighting with peers is improper and disrespectful! I'm sure our teacher would appreciate if you and Bakugou-san stopped this behaviour immediately."

          Tsubame blinked slowly, fingers moving to grasp the straps of her backpack, as her mind immediately moved to the only part she'd really registered. "Teacher...? Has our teacher been here already?"

          The shaking of Iida's head was firm and proper. Is this what private school is like? "No, we have yet to meet them. But we need to be the best representation of 1-A that we can be in case they are to arrive. Don't you want to be part of the next generation of heroes?" Something in his voice was a little accusatory. Tsubame had to force herself from her metaphorical hackles raising, biting back defensiveness.

          "More than anything," she agreed, nodding surely. "Sorry for fighting. I get a little hotheaded sometimes." She gave him an apologetic, bright grin, in which her sharp teeth were shown with her lips stretched wide and her eyes sweetly squeezed shut, head tilted to the side. When he nodded and closed his eyes in understanding, Tsubame's face switched to a glare and she opened one of her yellow eyes to shoot a dagger-like gaze towards Bakugou behind Iida's figure. The blond immediately growled again, but was blocked up when Iida Tenya stood straight. "Fighting from now on will be a minimum!" She gave the tall boy a thumbs up, grin slipping back into place—though she couldn't really promise anything. There was no guarantee that if Bakugou called her a name she wouldn't kick his chair childishly out from under him, or slam her hand on his desk so hard that it flipped.

          Iida seemed relieved by this idea. "Very well! Let's start with a clean slate—it's a pleasure to meet you!" He waved his arm stiffly in a hand-chopping motion, at which Tsubame couldn't help but be reminded of when she and Tomomi flapped their hands in excitement. She smiled.

          "It's good to meet you too, Iida-san! I'm Akatsuki Tsubame, I went to Dantō Junior High in Musutafu." Her school was far from a private academy—she wondered how many others in Class A had gotten private educations. The idea made her a little nervous. Tsubame pivoted on her heel and waved an apologetic, back-to-normal hand to the rest of her class, from the invisible girl to the boy with the many arms. "Sorry about that, everyone! A bit of a spectacle for the first day, huh?" The other blond boy, the one with the black streak through his hair, snickered a bit, and the pink girl, Ashido, grinned toothily. Across the room, Kirishima gave Tsubame a big thumbs up. Midoriya just rubbed his head and looked like he wanted to die when Bakugou's face snapped towards him.

          Tsubame had certainly made a first impression on her classmates.

          Introductions were a whirlwind of names and faces that she'd definitely forget and need to learn again.

          Kaminari Denki.

         Midoriya Izuku.

          Jirou Kyouka.

          Sero Hanta.

          Aoyama Yuga.

          Uraraka Ochaco.

          Bastard.

          Mineta Minoru. (He'd stared for too long so Tsubame had made the executive decision to grab him by the head and turn him around to face the other way).

          Ashido Mina.

          Koda Koji

          Hagakure Toru.

          Yaoyorozu Momo.

          Ojiro Mashirao.

          Asui Tsuyu.

          Tokoyami Fumikage.

          Shouji Mezo.

          Todoroki Shoto.

          And of course, Kirishima Eijirou and Iida Tenya, whose names Tsubame already knew. Tsubame—who'd never been the best at matching names to faces—thought over the names of her classmates in her mind, in an attempt to avoid the mortifying ordeal of having to ask them again later. Midoriya Izuku was the kid with the green hair from the Entrance Exam briefing. Bastard was called Bakugou Katsuki, if she remembered correctly. Tokoyami Fumikage had the head of a crow. Yaoyorozu Momo was the super tall girl. Hagakure Toru was invisible. Asui Tsuyu had her green hair tied in a bow and had asked to be called 'Tsuyu-chan' straight off the bat. The sweet girl with brown hair was Uraraka... Ochaco—Uraraka Ochaco.

          Tsubame pressed a finger to her temple, as she stared around the room and looked at faces whose names were already disappearing. Shit. The blonde with a black streak or two, he'd been called Kaminari Denki, he'd called her pretty. The boy in the corner of the room acting aloof and disinterested, with his hair split into a shade of ice white and a shade of crimson, was Todoroki Shoto, Tsubame thought. He had different coloured eyes that scanned the room from his casual vantage point against the wall. The girl with the pink skin and kinky hair was Ashido Mina, the 'whites' of her eyes a deep black. Aoyama... Yuga... who was that? Tsubame associated the name with the flashy blonde speaking to Uraraka, with a constant impish smile lighting up his face. And the girl with the earphone jacks hanging from her lobes, who Tsubame had seen at the exam, was Jirou Kyouka. Next... Koda Koji was the one who'd written his name on a piece of paper, his head was shaped like a rock. The guy with the tail was Ojiro Mashirao. Shouji... Mezo—he had the six arms.

          Her head was starting to hurt a little from all the brainpower, as Iida Tenya spoke something to the class. Mineta Minoru was the weird short one. And the boy with the black hair and wide grin, who was speaking to Kaminari... He was tall... What had he said? Sero Hanta, that was it!

          The exercise proved useless, because Tsubame would forget half of their names over the next half an hour, and have to make the conscious effort to try to learn them again.

          Still, she grinned to herself with pride. This whole thing was so exciting! New people; new Quirks! Would her classmates be as intimidating and cold as some of them appeared, would they be rivals rather than friends? Something within her was rearing to find out. She was about to go ask Kaminari Denki what he was raving about with waving hands, when the sound of an announcing cough came from the open door, and Tsubame had never seen a group of students throw themselves in seats so fast. She, herself, dropped down onto the empty desk with a card reading, '暁月 燕', and once again cursed herself for having a surname so immediate in the English alphabet because she was the first desk in the front row closest to the door. Behind her was the flashy Aoyama boy, and to her left was Ojiro.

          The cough in question had arisen from a dishevelled-looking man standing in the classroom doorway, in a—... a... sleeping bag? Tsubame, unfortunately, couldn't keep the surprised expression off her face as she blankly watched the depressed-looking thirty-something-year-old while he stood with a yellow sleeping bag drawn up to his face and dark circles under his eyes that could rival Akatsuki Kazuo's. "Go somewhere else if you want to play at being friends," he said, in a deep voice that sounded much too tired. Dark shaggy hair poked out from under the sleeping bag's hood. "This is the hero course." His black eyes searched around the room, looking from one shocked face to the next. "It took twenty-nine seconds before you were quiet." He'd been standing in that doorway for twenty-nine seconds—?! The man unzipped his sleeping bag and stepped out. He was lean-looking, with a ragged long-sleeved black shirt, comfy black pants, and a white scarf thrown around his neck. "Time is limited. You kids aren't rational enough."

          The only explanation was that this man—in all his exhausted-looking, scraggly beard, bloodshot eyes—was a teacher. And a Pro Hero. It was indeed remarkably weird, but considering Tsubame's run-in with the scandalous supervisor at the Entrance Exam, it shocked her a lot less than it should have. As he stepped into the classroom, she noticed how tall the man was.

          The man looked around the class again—Tsubame resisted the urge to shrink into the chair as his eyes slid over her, and resigned to fiddling with the hem of her skirt instead. "I'm your homeroom teacher, Aizawa Shota."

          Several exclamations of surprise rung around the room, as Tsubame's mouth just dropped. She heard the blond boy—Kaminari?—'s voice behind her echo, "Huh?". Tsubame stared at the tall dishevelled mess in front of her and thought despairingly, the man who'll be teaching my homeroom for the entire first year of U.A. turned up in a sleeping bag and with hair that looks barely brushed? Pro Heroes, typically, were known for their enthusiasm and willingness to throw themselves into dangerous situations. This man looked like he'd rather be sleeping under his desk.

          "It's kind of sudden," Aizawa-sensei spoke again, "but put on your sports uniforms and go out onto the field." Another rising sound of confusion from the students. Then, as quickly as the man had arrived, he turned around in the doorway and left, dragging the yellow sleeping bag after him down the hall.

          There were a very few longs seconds of just complete silence in the 1-A classroom. Then Tsubame's own voice of, "I thought we had U.A. orientation?" rung out, disrupting the shocked quiet that had stunned the previously overbearing group of teenagers. Her words were spoken only to her peers, of course, as their homeroom teacher had already vanished.

          A chair squeaked behind her as someone stood up. "Maybe our sports uniforms are for the orientation?" Kaminari Denki's voice was high and curious—he seemed to speak at twice the speed of anyone else.

          "What? No way!" That speaker was recognisable as Ashido Mina, confirmed when Tsubame stood and turned around at her desk. Ashido's black eyes were narrowed conspiringly as she sighed loudly. "We probably have to run laps or something."

          "I hope we don't need to compete already..." Uraraka Ochaco's voice was softer than Ashido's—less enthusiastic and wildly outspoken. She was fiddling nervously with her hands. For the first time, Tsubame noticed that the shorter girl had slightly raised circular pads on her fingertips. Something related to her Quirk? The short brunette tapped her fingers together."That would be a bit nerve-wracking on the first day."

         "What the hell did you come here to train, then?!" Bakugou's rough voice, lilted with cruelty, was the one that cut through the class' quiet confusion, and made Kaminari yelp as Bakugou spoke the words while passing him. And he might have had a point, but it was the first day, and now-nervous looking Uraraka had seemed sweet. The bastard had his hands shoved casually in his pockets—his uniform was so dishevelled that Tsubame wondered how he hadn't already gotten a detention slip, considering the state of crinkles, bagginess and complete lack of tie—, and passed them with an ego seemingly through the roof. He scoffed down at Uraraka, who was still seated, a sneer forming on his face, before he casually swaggered out of the classroom. The rest of his peers seemed to be in stunned shock.

          When he was gone, Uraraka sunk down in her seat in embarrassment, and several students just blinked in confusion at the whole thing. "What a bastard," announced Tsubame, crossing her arms. Her yellow eyes sharply held on the spot where he'd disappeared, and her feet resisted the urge to chase him down and punch him in the back. Whatever.

          Tsubame stood and stretched her arms a little, sighing out. She still had her empty cup of boba—which she'd been clutching beneath the desk while their teacher was present. Now, she reeled her arm back and threw it in an accurate trick-shot in the bin by the door. Someone made a noise of interest—Kaminari, again?—, and Tsubame simply rolled her head on her neck. No way she was going to be late again. Ashido and Hagakure seemed to have the same idea, because the two girls bounded out of their seats at virtually the same idea and made a dash towards the classroom door, Tsubame getting caught up between the both of them in the process. "Let's not make the weirdo man mad again!" was Ashido's cry, as she gripped Tsubame by the upper bicep and practically dragged her and Jirou out of the room.

          The girls' changeroom was on the ground floor of the U.A. gym building, and the seven girls of Class 1-A headed down there with their brand-new sports uniforms thrown over their shoulders or tucked across their arms. "I'm a little nervous," confessed Yaororozu Momo—who towered over the rest of her female peers in terms of height. "I don't know what to expect."

          "Righttt?" Ashido's voice was drawn out as she turned her gaze exasperatedly up to the ceiling. "Our homeroom teacher wasn't what I imagined at all." She gave a small frustrated wave of her arms to make a point.

          Tsubame toyed with one of her pigtails, coiling the brunette strands around her index finger. "He didn't look like much of a Pro Hero, did he?" Between the seven of them, it was taking the girls a while to find the changerooms—U.A. was a bit of a maze, Uraraka and Tsubame looked around with giant eyes, and they'd wandered outside, passed several Second Year classes, before they'd even gotten onto the right track, with Yaoyorozu leading the way. Now they'd entered the giant gymnasium building, where a group of Third Years were practising intense training with their Quirks. The six trailed unsurely after the tall girl.

         "Maybe it's a test of some kind." Asui Tsuyu spoke with her index finger pressed beside her mouth in thought, voice a soft kind of croak. "He might want to see how we react if he acts unusual for a hero."

          Hagakure's uniform turned, indicating she was walking backwards to talk to the girls taking up the rear. "What would be the point in that?" Simultaneously, Ashido, Tsubame and Asui shrugged, exchanging a befuddled look. Tsubame assumed the invisible girl was sharing the same expression, but couldn't exactly be sure. 

          The small group came to an abrupt stop suddenly as Yaorozoru Momo seemed to find what they were looking for, just to her left. "Here it is!" Yaoyorozu announced victoriously, tone of voice reminding Tsubame the tiniest bit of Miki, as she extended a grateful hand towards the doorway with the sign reading 'FIRST YEAR FEMALE CHANGEROOM'. The other girls entered first, with Yaoyorozu trailing in only after they'd all gone ahead. Tsubame was glad, and just a little disappointed, to see that the changerooms were completely normal, and not bizarre like the rest of U.A. High had been so far.

༉*ೃ༄

spreading my miruko (usagiyama rumi) agenda, i want her to both kiss me and punch me <3

(i'd like to clarify that miruko is not related to the akatsukis in any way lol, she and tsubame just happen to have similar strength/muscle-based animal quirks, but miruko is not a secret relative of theirs or anything)

i miss japan i want to go back so bad

HI I STARTED WATCHING A NEW ANIME, SK8 THE INFINITY, AND IT'S SO GOOD  ๑ˊૢᵕˋૢ๑  it makes me want to write a fic for it (god help me and my fic ideas), but not for the main two boys as the love interest bc i'm like 90% sure they're going to end up together — it'd maybe be a wlw fic with two ocs who are skaters ?? i think that'd be cute <3 <3

also sorry that this chapter is long again! descriptions of tsubame travelling to school will be pretty much 0 after this, i just thought it was cute to introduce a bit of slice of life of her day <3 (also, if you're a new reader, please expect my chapters to be long hehe, i'm bad at capping myself at a limit)

tsubame being insecure about her personality because of past bad experiences </3

mina descends from the heavens to take out bakugou

word count: 9,354

27.02.2021.