Chapter Text
Sakia’s mouth tastes blood and rubber.
She keeps gnawing on the end of her pencil anyways- because the pink rubber looks like candy and she’s stupidly fucking hungry after not getting to eat lunch. The side of her tongue is raw and swollen and the bits of erasers nibbles irritate it more as she rolls them around in her mouth.
Her bento of literally just white rice was sitting oh so temptatiously in her bag right by her feet and her bastard teacher is still going on-and-on about basic algebra and Sakia might just be contemplating the benefits of eating her lunch right in the middle of math class.
A paper ball hits the back of her head.
Sakia swivels around with a snarl- bared teeth lined with old blood and eraser crumbs. The boy- Sato Yakeru - meets her glare with a swollen-eyed one of his own.
Glare all you want, Glowstick, I broke the shit outta your pinky fair and square. Sakia grins- horrible and wide and menacing .
“Yamada-san! Is there something entertaining back there or is my lesson boring to you?” Bastard-Sensei barks, bug eyes gleaming in the fluorescent lights.
Sakai wheels around sharply- shark smile still tearing at the corners of her mouth, “It’s a bit of both, Teach. ”
Fly-Eyes jerks back in disgust, his cheeks paler than usual. He recomposes and sighs because this is, after all, Yamada Hanako , 3A’s resident delinquent.
“Go see the nurse.”
She’s already fucking standing before he’s even finshed talking- She’s been done with her homework and vying for a reason to get out of this boring class. Her fingers wrap around her bento and she’s not subtle but she doesn’t give a shit-
No one was gonna stop her.
A foot strikes out into the aisle but Sakia’s been in the same class as these stale bullies for 3 years now. She stomps on that ankle and revels in the bitten-down whimper.
The class door clicks shut behind her resoundingly and Sakia takes to wandering the halls for the next hour- plain-rice bento in hand.
-----
Sakia knows, deep down, in some capacity, that she’s probably a genius child. Lessons come to her easy- she can skip steps in math, pick up vocabulary like nobody’s business, and plays a mean chess game. Sakia could, theoretically, be top of her class.
Instead, Sakia ranks at a healthy, cursed 4th because she’s always so fucking tired and doesn’t have the resources to be number one.
Sakia clicks her semi-swollen tongue, eraser-less pencil tapping against the floor. She’s hunched over her books- legs splayed and dress riding up as she packs in as much studying now as possible. Sakia’s got a history test soon and she doesn’t really like history because it’s just memorization. No skill whatsoever.
“Oi, Hana-pyon, are you ready for your last act? It’s almost 7.”
Sakia bites back the instinctual ‘ fuck off’ because this is Keihi and Keihi’s persona has always been the bratty kind. Still, she keeps her eyes roving over the details of the Edo period like she’s ignoring him.
Pyon… who the fuck does he think he is? Her fingers are tight around her pencil.
“Every hour, on the hour. I’ve been doing this for almost a year now.” Sakia mumbles.
Heels clack on the floor until annoyingly bedazzled boots appear in the corner of her vision. Along with the bare, shaven legs that are wearing them. She does not look up because Sakia does not want to see whatever skimpy outfit he’s got on for his act today. She’d rather not scar herself eternally, thank you very much.
“Hoh? History? Hana-tan, that’s gross. You’re really studying before your last act tonight? Shouldn’t you be doing vocal warm-ups or-”
“Just because you dropped out and became a stripper doesn’t mean that everyone that works here is going to follow that.” She sighs and closes her book. Keihi is not going to stop bothering her and she’s only got another 5 before she’s up.
See, Sakia is a singer-server at a sleazy dinner-strip joint. It’s weird but the owner is also weird so Sakia gets paid to sing and serve food for a few hours. Who fucking cares, as long as it pays the bills.
She blows a curl out of her face, packing her books back into her beaten bag. Then, gritting her teeth, she snaps her eyes up to Keihi’s face.
His eyes are lined with an obnoxious blue pigment that brings out the barely-there blue sheen to his dark hair. He tilts his head- short hair shifting from the jerky movement. “Okay, that’s fair. You gonna get an office job then?”
Sakia huffs with hollow amusement. Keihi knows how to take a jab in stride because he’s been working at this sleazy strip joint since he was 16.
“I’ll be a serial killer before I sink even that low.” She stands and kicks her legs around to warm her still blood. The backs of her thighs are stiff. The floorboards make an interesting brick-pattern on them.
Keihi pauses and grimaces- because how do you respond to that?
Sakia continues. “I’m gonna become a pro-hero at a big-league school like U.A. or Shiketsu.”
She taps her shoes against the floor and ignores the resounding echo of it. The sound of too much drunken chatter intertwines with the solemn taps like a shitty funeral march. Sakia licks the line of her teeth and tastes a hint of rubber.
And finally- “You’re aiming for the actual hero programs? Like, not general studies? You’re still- you’re still Quirkless, right?”
“Yes.” Sakia smiles with all her teeth.
She can hear them starting to introduce the last dinner act of the night- and Keihi shifts slightly because this talk is ending . He still slaps a resolute hand on his hip.
“We’ll talk more about this on the drive home.”
They won’t.
She walks up to the curtain. Another curled baby hair falls in her face. She wiggles her toes in her pinchy shoes. It’s salsa night.
----
Arriving on U.A. grounds is almost underwhelming. There’s a fucking abominable amount of students packed in it. All of the different uniforms melding together give Sakia a headache- or, technically, an even bigger fucking headache than the one she already has from sleep deprivation. Maybe it’s the color clashes- maybe it’s the fact that she had asked off of work last night and her asshole boss scheduled her anyway.
Sakia blames the colors and trudges on.
Every inch of her brain has been thoroughly crammed with placement testing information. She’s studied so hard that she climbed to second in her graduating middle school class. Her stomach rumbles. Her fingertips are numb. This is the third placement test she’s going to take. She’s got another one tomorrow and a fifth the day after.
The light of the sun grates against her strained pupils. She wants to chew on something.
She’s sitting in her assigned seat in the testing auditorium before she realizes it- blearily blinking at nothing in front of her. She’s smack in the back because she’s ‘Yamada ’ from a poor public school- hundreds of other students lining the rows alphabetically-by-junior-high in front of her. There’s some pink-cheeked bubbly girl on her left- and Glowstick on her right.
Sakia might be tired but she has it in her to grin with fangs bared at him. Sweat lines the back of his neck.
“I wonder what U.A, has as it’s testing. Oh, I’m so nervous!” The girl on her right chimes good-naturedly, because all people in Japan are polite and some gentle chatter would surely ease each other’s nerves.
Sakia is not from Japan and is not polite. She looks over at her with dead eyes and mutters out a, “Oh, cool.”
The girl’s mouth snaps shut. Sakia keeps staring until the girl looks away first.
Pro-hero Present Mic steps up to the podium and talks and talks and talks about the paper test rules and expectations and phones off and no cheating and his voice is so fucking loud Sakia wishes she was deaf .
And then the tests are handed out and flipped over and Sakia has three hours to fill in bubbles, write short answers, and write an essay. Her tired brain clicks because it’s already done this twice and studied more and this is familiar and easy . Damn near muscle memory, at this point.
Sakia is the first to finish- with half the time left too.
She doesn’t wait around; She recollects her bag and heads to the changing rooms now before they get crowded.
It’s not much- a battered pair of green running shorts and a band tee she’d thrifted years ago. Her tennis shoes are a little tight but her feet stopped growing last year so they’ll last until they actually break. Her hands and forearms are wrapped in athletic tape.
She pauses at the sight of herself in the mirrors. She’s short and skinny. Her stomach claws with hunger. There’s a bento of rice and beans tucked in there and she has another two hours until the next test.
So Sakia settles down, leaning against the bus with her assigned letter on it, and digs the fuck in. It’s bland- but it’s filling and she stuffs herself until it almost hurts.
And after she stuffs herself until it almost hurts- she’s stuck sitting on the pavement with stewing thoughts.
Robots.
Sakia was fighting robots.
Sakia was a Quirkless person expected to fight metal and gain points.
Shiketsu’s exam wasn’t this posing. How the hell is she going to destroy robots at a high enough number that she racks up enough points to place in the hero classes?
She thumps her head against the bus’s tire. The back of her neck is hot but she doesn’t have a liga- so she can’t fucking tie her hair up.
It’s a Hero School. Best on this side of Japan, even. With a principal known nationwide for being a clever rat (-Quite literally, too.). So…
There’s gotta be more. She’s watched the Sports Festival clips for the upperclassmen and there were students with less boom-bang power quirks in the hero classes. Which means there’s more to this test than meets the eye.
Side note: what a stupid fucking affair the whole thing is. How exactly do students with more subtle quirks showcase themselves-
It clicks.
Students with lower-key quirks need to be able to showcase themselves.
This test runs on a point-based system. There is a zero-pointer. What is the purpose of bots with no point value? Students with less-destructive abilities need to be able to advertise themselves. This is run in a cityscape. This is a hero school.
Sakia bites on her tongue.
There will be a way to destroy the robots without actually needing to tear them apart. That’s a matter of stealth and strategy. But a zero pointer. This is U.A.- the largest Hero high school on this side of Japan. There’s a hidden agenda. Must be. What was it that the irritating pro said? ‘Make sure you keep it heroic’.
This is an exam for the biggest hero school in this area. They have a point system. There are people monitoring us. Keep it heroic. There are point robots and a zero-point robot. Keep it heroic.
Sakia freezes.
There’s a pointless robot and keep it heroic.
She heaves a sigh and thumps her head against the steel again.
Part of this exam fuckin’ has to be displaying heroic tendencies. I’m gonna have to help other examinees.
“Oh! You’re the girl who finished her exam first!” His hair is violently red and violently gelled up into spikes. He smiles and his teeth are sharp. Sakia notes, almost boredly, that he’s kinda cute. There’s a boyish roundness to his face- a kind smile and bright eyes.
He pauses after just a literal statement and normally Sakia wouldn’t entertain an empty conversation but her stomach is full and this boy has a friendly face and part of the U.A. exam is heroics so-
“Yeah.”
Okay, it’s still not much, but at least she didn’t just stare at him and let his statement linger.
His smile falters slightly- but they’re the only two standing by the Block-B bus right now as other students begin to meander over to the other busses. He shifts from one foot to the other before his lips part again.
“Man, I’m kind of excited about these robots. This sort of test is geared right up my alley!” His equally red eyes gleam- shark teeth still bared in a wide grin.
Sakia props her arms on her knees. She’s never mastered pleasantries, so she shoots out a truth. “This is my third exam in a row. I don’t know if I can feel.”
And he laughs a little. “C’Mon! You gotta be feelin’ nervous or something. Beating up robots is kinda crazy, isn’t it?”
A girl starts to walk their way. She joins them silently- standing a respectable distance away. Her face is void of emotion- and she’s as plain as it gets. Unimportant. Sakia spares her a glance before wheeling back to RedHead Supreme.
“I guess. I don’t exactly have a viable way to destroy them.”
“Ah, you’re quirk’s not fit for robo-combat? That sucks. I’m sure you’ll do well regardless!” He tightens his hand into a fist like a fucking fighting-shounen main character.
Sakia snorts. “Oh, I will. A few robots won’t stop me from making it in.”
The red-haired boy nods with that same smile still on his face. Sakia decides that it’s the end of the conversation and turns away regardless of whether he has more to say or not. She pointedly stretches forward and touches her toes because her legs are stiff and that’s enough optimistic chatter for the week, honestly.
From that point onwards, a steady stream of students make their way to their designated buses- and Sakia ignores them all in favor of warming up her muscles.
There will be plenty of time to talk to the students that actually make it into her class (- her class because she has to pass. She has to be in the hero course it doesn’t even need to be Class 1-A, it can be 1-B but she needs to be in a hero course in a big name school because- ).
“Alright, alright, everyone in. It’s time to go.”
Sakia’s ears are pounding with blood as she slides her bag into an overhead luggage cubby and sinks into a seat next to some shaky-knees nobody. Her leg bounces for the entirety of the 5-minute drive. Her heart beats at her lungs and pushes against her ribs and even with that thrumming, growing anxiety- she has to push down a grin.
The bus pulls to a stop and Sakia digs her nails into her thighs. Her teeth burn behind her lips. Her eye twitches and her nose scrunches.
“Are you nervous too?” Knocked-Knees twiddles her fingers together, voice weak and wavering.
Sakia turns to her and the smile rips violently across her lips.
“No.”
Her seatmate flinches back when she stands abruptly. Sakia doesn’t even look back as she exits the bus. She pushes her way to the front of the crowd until her nose is practically smushed against the gates. There are a few indignant cries behind her but not a single one of them matters because just beyond this miles-tall steel door is Sakia’s fast track to heroics.
Behind this door is the inevitable death of Yamada Hanako.
Her fingers splay against the cold steel. Her fingertips ache with the harsh beat of her heart. Please - Who is she asking? Who’s even listening? Is there anyone- Please. I gotta place in this. Beat robots. Save students. If there’s anyone-
A whip cracks. Sakia’s hands are touching air.
“The test’s begun!”
Sakia doesn’t even look back or question it. The cityscape before her blurs by because she’s fucking running .
+-----
“Hmm? Oh, that one’s pretty promising. She seems to get the exam.” Nemuri murmurs as she leans over his shoulder. His eyes flick away from the hot-headed blond with an explosive quirk over to where she’s pointing a red-lacquered nail.
A (skinny, skinny- is this part of her quirk? She’s so thin- ) girl slaps a hand down on a 2-pointer’s stop button. Her chin is dripping with a line of blood- nose drooling that dark maroon. She throws a sharp grin at the other examinee she saved. A taped-up hand is offered and the girl with a bleeding nose and rust-colored hair helps the student up.
She laughs with bloody teeth and the camera barely picks up, “Aim for the red!”
And she rockets off with dusty legs to help another student backed into a corner.
“She is. Where’s her exam essay?” He squints at the screen. She’s only got 14 Villain points. She’s either a save-all Hero-Hopeful or she’s smart enough to have figured out the secret scoring system.
Nedzu pops up from his chair- papers already in his hand. “Oh, I already have them! This is the same girl that finished her exam in record time.”
“And how’d she do?” He plucks the papers from the principal’s hands. His fingers flip passed pages of math and language until he reaches the essay.
“Hmm, a bit rocky in Social Studies, but almost flawlessly everywhere else. Practically a little genius. And her essay is phenomenal! I think you’d like her, Eraser.” Nedzu chirps out cheerfully- pure black eyes never leaving the monitor. She pulls a student out of the way of flying debris before punching out a 1-pointer’s button.
Aizawa’s eyes scan through the essay with mounting interest. His eyes flick back up to the screen just in time to see the unhinged gleam in Yamada Hanako’s eyes as the Zero Pointer shakes the pseudo cityscape.
“Maybe.”
-----
Sakia dives back as another piece of concrete crashes from the sky. She sniffles because her nose stopped bleeding a bit earlier and then a piece of asphalt had the audacity to tear up from the earth and smack her in the face so her poor nose is dripping blood again.
Honestly, at this point, she might have enough points to just turn around and say fuck it. But might isn’t enough.
So Sakia is running towards the Zero Pointer.
Her chest is squeezing with this ever-mounting feeling of OhFuckOhFuckOhFuck JustTurnAroundYouStupidBitchWhyAreYouHeadingTowardsTheMonsterYou’reGonnaGetYourselfKilled- but she hops over chunks of building anyways because the mousy girl from the bus is lagging behind way too far and Sakia might be a two-faced bastard but that’s a twisted ankle and there’s no heroes here except for all the examinees. And every single sensible one is running away but there’s no one to help Knocked-Knees.
Sakia chokes on dust and sand and the taste of powdered concrete is surprisingly awful. She slides over an I-Beam and a loose bolt slices the meat of her thigh. The Zero Pointer takes another earth-shaking step. Knocked-Knees cries out. Sakia reaches her and roughly slings the girl’s arm over her shoulder.
Her ears are ringing. Her mouth tastes like copper and sand. She grips the girl’s waist too hard.
“ Move! ”
The speed is doubled but the Zero Pointer is still hot on their ass and Sakia’s really, really wishing she’d kinda just pegged on Shiketsu and just slept in today. Her neck is slick with sweat that makes her hair sticky and the dust settles on her skin like a milk-film.
Knocked-Knees pants with exertion and pain and limps .
“Times Up!”
It all freezes.
Sakia collapses with relief .
( The girl with the twisted ankle pitches forward with a yelp but it doesn’t matter because it’s done now. No more life-threatening robots test. Just the feeling of cracked road against Sakia’s bruised cheek-).
She pants down at the earth- forehead dripping sweat- and lets her twinging heart finally settle. Her hair pools in a mess around her- the choppy strands sticking to her face. It’s like a puddle of rust- sinking into the cracks in the concrete.
“Th-” Sakia’s head snaps up- “Tha-thank you. You- You saved me.” The mousy girl twiddles her fingers together. Sakia doesn’t even smile.
Instead, she breathes heavily and nods, “It’s part of the job, yeah.”
-----
“It’d be putting her at risk! She’s not equipped to handle the life of a Hero!”
“She handled it just fine in the practical!”
“Are you willing to get the blood of a little girl on your hands like this? It’ll kill her!”
Nemuri’s hand slaps down on the table and Aizawa’s eyes fucking skyrocket up because this back-and-forth has been going on for over an hour now .
“Barring her from the school would only show that U.A. is ableist. Is that what this school stands for? That anyone can become a hero but only if they fit into the mold-?” And Nemuri is livid because her quirk already got her shit but this little girl doesn’t even have one.
“Any quirk is welcome because we can nurture those quirks into their peak. She doesn’t have one! And that’s fatal for any upcoming hero! How could she hope to take down any quirked villain?! She’ll die!” Powerloader is leaning against the table. Aizawa sighs and leans his head back. A copy of her essay sits on the table in front of him.
It’s a nice essay, for what it’s worth. It’s strongly written- well paced and inflective. She’s clearly a bright girl. The only issue with it is that Aizawa can tell just from the essay that if they denied her access to UA- she’d plow forward without the license.
A vigilante.
He parts his lips to say just that but Hizashi perks up much louder and faster than him.
“It’d be a tough road ahead for her- but you can tell from her essay that she’d go for it anyways! U.A. might be her safest bet. And it’s really not all that different from Eraser, huh?”
And finally, the table pauses.
Fucking damnit, Hizashi. Now I’m in the spotlight.
It’s Thirteen that speaks first. “It’s fundamentally not the same. Eraser levels the playing field by canceling out the quirks. She wouldn’t have that.”
The table bursts into flames again. Aizawa pinches the bridge of his nose. He’s losing sleep for this .
Next to him, Principal Nedzu chuckles. “What an interesting dilemma. To see the staff divided like this is truly something,” And he shrugs languidly, “It’s a shame this entire debate doesn’t matter, neh Aizawa?”
Aizawa’s neck cracks with how fast he snaps his face to look directly at the principal.
“What do you mean, Nedzu?” He sits up, completely tuning out the back and forth between Ectoplasm and Vlad King- between Midnight and Powerloader, between Present Mic and fucking All Might .
“I’ve already decided. We all did- rewarding those rescue points. She passed the exam and made it into the top 10 leaderboard.” Nedzu answers cheerfully.
The entire table finally shuts the hell up and all of the attention is thrown on the chimera.
“She’s going to be in Class 1-A!”
Aizawa slumps back into his chair because that’s his class this time. Yamada Hanako, the Quirkless girl who’s dividing the staff like this, is going to be his problem, of course.
-----
(“Nothing ventured, nothing gained!” He crows, pumping his ace-taped fist. The blood dripping from his chin is worn with pride- even as it sinks into the crack of his busted lips and dribbles to the floor.
She smiles- because her own nose is also bleeding and knowing that both of their mouths are thick with the taste of crimson copper is riveting . She cracks her neck and the line of tired vertebrae in her back pop too. Her knees are bruised. Her fingers are swollen and numb.
“Is this another one of those youth things?” The grass is rough and sharp against her legs. Her stomach burns with strain but she props herself up on beaten elbows anyways.
His right knee tremors and his thigh twitches and his whole form is wobbling but he smiles with big, bright black eyes. The split in his eyebrow almost spills blood into them but she knows he’d never close his eyes even as it did.
“The lotus blooms twice.” It’s not called out with the ferocity in his heart. Just a whisper- passed the bloody teeth and split lip and into the clearing- floating just between them. His black hair sticks to his cheeks and she recognizes a challenge when she hears one. She stands up again.
“This time, I’ll kick your ass, L- ”)
Sakia’s elbow screams with pain. Her heart thuds dully and her toes twitch. Her legs are cold. She looks at her arm. There’s nothing there so she glares at her nightstand because what else would have woken her up like that?
She always wakes up before she can find out the Boy With A Bowl Cut’s name.
Sakia smacks her mouth tiredly, sitting up in her shitty bed. Her back aches almost as badly as her pinched-up toes. Stupid asshole boss- making me stay through closing like that.
It’s midday on a Saturday and there’s not much to do but Sakia’s got another long-ass shift tonight so she might as well make these few hours worth it. Maybe a walk around town? Window shopping sounds fun. She could also pop out to that food pantry and see if they have anything to spare-
Her mail slot clatters and two envelopes slide against the floor.
Is that a wax seal?
Sakia fucking launches out of bed.
She slides on the floor and the burn of it against her bare stomach might mean she has a scrape but she claws into the U.A. letter.
Oh boy oh boy oh boy- it’s heavy-!
There’s a circular disk inside and Sakia’s throat is clenching up. The wax seal pops off cleanly. Her fingers shake. She pulls out the little circle and slaps it down on the floor anyways because this might as well be like a picked-off scab stuck on one part and Sakia’s not afraid of her own blood.
It turns on immediately and Sakia’s dark-adjusted eyes are immediately assaulted with the world’s brightest close-up of Number-One Hero All Might’s face.
“I’m here as a projection!”
Hold on, isn’t All Might based in like Shibuya or some shit? Why’s he in Musutafu?
“I came to this city to work in UA!” And he laughs boisterously .
Sakia wants to scream into her hands. All Might is the exact reason why Sakia is fighting her way up the ladder and here he is laughing at her through a pre-recorded message. She bites down on her nails.
“So let's review! You passed the written exam with one of the highest scores! Most of your points there were docked from the Social Studies portion. As for the practical- you scored a modest 15 points! This should be enough to place you into one of the General Studies-”
Sakia stops breathing.
No. No no no-
“However, you discovered the hidden score system in the test, didn’t you? Take a look at this video!” He swings a remote over to the screen behind him and Sakia sucks in a deep lungful of stale, sweet air.
Hidden Score System Hidden Score System HiddenScoreSyst-
It’s a compilation of the practical and Sakia fumes at having to watch herself help other students. Pathetic. If a single one of them knew- they’d refuse my help.
And then she watches herself swing that one girl’s arm around her shoulder even as the Zero Pointer’s wheels are just meters behind.
“And even with your status, it’s the spirit of Self-Sacrifice that makes the best Heroes. How could the hero course deny those who save others and do the right thing? A Hero’s job is grueling and requires risking one’s life! So, Rescue Points!”
The screen flashes with a leaderboard and Sakia leans forward.
“Yamada Hanako: 42 rescue points! You passed at 10th in the practical!”
“Holy shit. Oh my fucking god-” Sakia drags her bitten nails against the floorboards because- because-
“Congratulations, Young Hanako. This is your hero academia! ”