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I SIGHED. "You know what, this conversation isn't getting anywhere, and you don't seem to get my point. I'm just going to leave." Picking myself up, I got up from my feet and began sauntering towards our school's cafeteria.

Just as I was stepping into the corridor, Uraraka cupped her hands, projecting her voice throughout the whole school. "I hope you get raped on your way back, only that would serve the world justice just for the problems you've caused by existing alone!"

My foot halted, turning my shoulder around, glaring at her umber brown eyes. They were no longer holding the pure, innocent kindness that I once knew. Instead, I saw toxicity and malice.

"Ochako, that's a bit too much..." I heard one say. "Yeah, I don't think you should say that."

How ironic, to see those snakes stand up for me when just a few minutes ago, they were all kissing ass for Uraraka. Yet they knew that this is a sensitive topic, something you shouldn't play around and joke about. So why would she, the classroom sweetheart, say such things to me? Why is she trying so hard to make me snap when we had been friends, no, best friends, for 6 years? Despite the circumstances, isn't this a bit out of character for her?

Who is she to speak of such things like this?

Who is she to go around laughing about others' misfortunes?

Does your own problem act like a proper excuse to deny other's mental struggles?

Borders of my vision turned dark, everything turned red. My lungs burned like hellfire, and my fingers were itching, eager for a fight. They curled into a fist, and before I realize it, I was already moving for my next action.

"...die" I whispered.

Blinded by anger, I crouched down and slammed my hands to the ground, willing the roots to spread from my fingers towards Uraraka, deep within the school grounds. A venus flytrap sprouted rapidly from her shadow, quickly swallowing her whole.

"Mmphhh!" Uraraka thrashed around the inside of the majestic plant, though proved worthless as the plant only gripped its jaws tighter, crushing her bones into a pulp.

"Ochako!"

"Quick, someone go get the teacher!"

"Can you breathe?"

The voices were deafeningly loud, though it was quickly drowned out by my own thoughts. Swarms of voices like bees embedded my senses, dominating every limb connected to my mind. A tingling sensation grew through my toes, before my shoes bursted from swarming vines, quickly moving to spread out through the open grounds.

A voice of panic from a girl resurfaced from my mind. "I...I can't move!" she cried out.

One attempted to stamp onto the many vines creeping up their legs, only to sigh in dismay. "Ugh, it's these stupid plants." They groaned, now bending down and ripping the vines from their legs, desperate to escape from their hold.

This continued on for quite a while, though it probably took only a few more seconds before one of the teachers assigned to lunch duty arrived.

Slamming the door open, their hands flew to their face, horrified at the chaos that had erupted. "Matsu Y/N!" They yelled.

"Just what are you doing! Put Uraraka down!" they demanded, though they didn't make a move to stop the commotion.

Finally, clicking back to my senses, eyes widening, my breath hitched in my throat at the damage that I have caused.

Shaking my worries away, I calmly straightened my knees and back, stretching slightly before willing the plants to cut off from my body, leaving them motionless in their state. Their grip loosened, allowing Uraraka and the girls to escape from their iron grip.

As I clumsily turned towards the teacher, I squinted my eyes at a blurry figure, feeling the world spinning around me.

'Shit. I overused my quirk.'

"You, come with me. You're in big trouble, young lady!" They gestured, hinting me to follow them out the hallway.

'Oh gosh.' my hands turned clammy as I stumbled lazily, (mind you, barefooted,) behind the figure.

I had lashed out without considering the consequences behind my actions! Damage of school property, quirk-use violation, and abuse upon students are only some of the many rules I had probably violated. Most of which would be permanently marked on my school records.

Just imagining what my mother would do is enough to make me want to dig a hole out and die. 'As I was saying, where is the time machine.'

As I continued to have a mental crisis, the teacher stopped abruptly, making me awkwardly stumble upon their back. They glared back at me disappointedly and left me there in front of the school counselor's office.

I really didn't want to face the counselor. They don't even say anything worthy of listening; they go around in circles and at the end of the day, they just call your parents or left you off the hook. (But I doubt they'd let me off for my situation.) I would more rather have them just get straight to the point and get everything over with.

I sighed and worked up the courage to open the door and walk into the room, greeting the counselor with an awkward smile.

They glanced up from their computer and smiled back, "Hey sweetie, please take a seat here and I'd be right there with you." and continued typing away on their obnoxiously loud keyboard.

I walked and plopped down onto an uncomfortable plastic chair and waited awkwardly for a few minutes, bouncing my knees to the tickings of the clock anxiously.

Maybe I still have enough time to build a time machine right here. I'd ask to go to the bathroom, do some quick research and somehow make it before they get suspicious and call my mother.

As I continue to formulate a desperate plan to somehow avoid the havoc aftermath. The counselor pulled up a chair in front of me, dragging me out of my thoughts.

"So I heard that you've attacked one of your classmates with your quirk?" They asked, folding their hands neatly on their lap.

"Yes," I responded nonchalantly.

What else am I supposed to say?

April Fools?

"Do you know you're not allowed to do that."

No shit.

"...yes."

They heaved a tired sigh, which irked me a bit, considering they have nothing to be tired about. Like, hello? I'm the one that's getting in trouble and probably getting a beating from my mothe-

"I'm calling your parents to pick you up early, alright?"

Holy shit, I stand corrected. This is going way too fast, I didn't even get my bathroom break!

Before I could ask them a question about what would happen, they picked up the landline attached to the wall and dialed my mother's work phone.

My mother never tells me about her schedule, but if this was in between an interview or even some time before or after. I'm toast. I'm so dead.

Hold up, why is the school system still using landlines to communicate with one another? Have they never got the time to upgrade their communication system, or are they just trying to save money on new gadgets?

Wait, why am I pointing out random shit that doesn't have anything to do with the situation? Now that I think about it, I have found myself doing this quite frequently, most of the time, occurring whenever I'm in an awkward position.

Hm, this might actually not be a bad thing. It distracts me from the current problem and makes me seem like I have a hold on the situation. I swear I'm a genius sometimes. Keyword - sometimes.

"Hello?" the, oh so,  familiar voice spoke.

However, as I was still deep in my thoughts, the voice spooked me. I quite literally almost fell out of my chair from the sheer panic that rushed to my... bottoms?

"Hi EverGreene," the counselor greeted," Can you take a seat in this chair? I have some things to say to you about your daughter's behavior."

"What?!" She gasped before clearing her throat to somehow defend my behavior. "My daughter has been very obedient ever since the first day of school, I don't see how she could have done anything too absurd to have to call me over."

"That's where you're wrong." they sighed and folded their hands, placing their chin on the mini platform. "You see..."

The counselor took hours upon hours, explaining everything that had happened in that lunchroom. The whole ordeal was probably only a span of 15 minutes at max, and that's including the argument. Apparently, a student had heard the whole "conversation" and so the counselor had given me enough sympathy on my part to excuse me from my mistakes.

Not gonna lie, I heaved a sigh of relief when I heard that.

Finally, the counselor ended the meeting with yet, another long sigh.

"I see." My mother concluded, sending me a disappointed glance. "I will properly discipline our daughter. We're very sorry for the inconvenience."

"It's alright." They reassured.

Mother nodded, and picked up her purse from her lap. "We'll take our leave."

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