Chapter Text
My friends were poor, but honest. – William Shakespeare
I think I’m better than ya? Are you insane? I live off instant ramen! My folks missed supper just so I could be full! Mom and Dad are workin’ themselves to death, and ya think I feel superior? I just wanna help my folks! – Ochaco Uraraka
People have always been very imaginative with finding new ways to suffer using the same few methods. War. Rape. Starvation. Hundreds of years ago, mankind fought their brethren using guns or machines. With Quirks, we merely replaced warfare with heroics. Heroes were the side that fought for their society. Villains rebelled.
We found many new ways to rape. Quirks aren’t inherently villainous, but even the most moral of men could fall into temptation when their Quirk was an aphrodisiac, mind control, or simply seeing through walls. Sometimes, I wonder if so many women wore more revealing hero suits to make themselves a target instead of the untrained, innocent civilians.
Starvation? Poverty? Unlike most other aspects of life, that never changed. Some people simply had more wealth than others. Children still went hungry. Parents still worked themselves to hell and back again for the sake of their offspring.
That’s where Ochaco Uraraka came in. We were both familiar with suffering, just different kinds.
BREAK LOGIC
Eri nodded in greetings as Mina and Momo entered Recovery Girl’s temporary room. Momo had a few visible bruises while Mina dripped water and smelt reminiscent of a wet dog. Rain must be very inconvenient.
“Eri?” her furry friend asked. “This’s where you went off to?” They both looked tired, but both had smiles as well. If it wasn’t for the monitor Recovery Girl had, to know injuries immediately if anyone sustained one, Eri wouldn’t know which girl won.
She nodded. “Our school tells teenagers to wail on their peers using potential weapons of mass destruction. I can heal you without side effects, unlike my teacher who’ll leave you drained. She doesn’t fix scars too.”
“Ow, toot your horn somewhere else.” Recovery Girl poked Eri’s foot with her cane. “Heal them and be done with it.”
The girl nodded and touched her friends’ shoulders. By reverting them to three minutes before the fight, all their injuries disappeared. It didn’t help Mina’s water problem. “Here’s a towel.” She pulled one from under a bed. Recovery Girl had a slight case of OCD. She organized any temporary nursing office the same way.
Mina blushed and gave a cheeky smile. Oddly enough, the blush appeared despite her fuzzy cheeks and had more lavender than red. “Ah, thanks.”
“Sorry about that, Mina.” Momo scratched the back of her head. “I didn’t think that part through, did I?”
“Hey, no doubting yourself!” She wagged her finger accusingly. “You eliminated my threat without hurting anyone. Who cares if I get a little stinky? Oh! Can you make perfume?”
“Er, no.” She clenched her fist. “But I can learn how!”
“Yeah! Bye, Eri!” The two walked about of the building, and Eri had the slightest of smiles on her lips. She turned her gaze back to the monitor and waited for Uraraka and Monoma’s match.
“Eri, how’d you befriend such a sweet girl?” While the woman’s question might seem insulting at first glance, she knew her for almost a decade. Going from relatively friendless to having a friend like Mina… It gave much of the staff a pleasant surprise. Plus, Eri gave Mina some assistance with her homework. Nobody complained.
This time, Eri couldn’t stop herself from smiling. “We’re horn buddies.”
BREAK LOGIC
While waiting for Ashido and Yaoyorozu’s fight to end, Uraraka held the electric hair clipper and stared at it, for in her hands was guaranteed victory. Eri made it no secret that Monoma needed hair to copy a Quirk, and for some reason asked Yaoyorozu to make her this device and promised she’d restore her hair. The girl didn’t doubt that Eri could because her Quirk seemed to defy logic, but it seemed unfair. The narcissist had no chance of defeating a bald girl; however, it left a bitter taste in her mouth.
She had no qualms about stacking the deck in her favor. Who cared if someone called you unfair? She came from a small, rural town with two construction businesses. Her parents owned one. Her mom could reduce an object’s inertia. Her dad was Quirkless. Together, they brought little to the business in terms of powers. The other construction company had a worker that could alter metal. Most contracts went to that business, since they could work faster and cheaper.
She could’ve gotten angry, blamed the world for her folk’s troubles. The girl decided not to when she had gravity. Her parents raised her to be moral and not a hypocrite. The least she could do was honor that.
Why did the hair clippers bother her? Like much in her life, the answer was money. She’d win because she shaved her head rather than her own abilities, and the girl needed to market herself. Interning at a good agency would increase her skills and resume for heroics. Better resumes meant better job offerings after graduation.
She tossed the clippers in the trash. She’ll do it herself. Like she planned, she’ll provide for her parents herself.
Her phone buzzed. She set the device on a table, unwilling to risk any damage during the battle; however, it vibrated loud enough for her to hear.
A tear slid down her cheek after she read the text.
Mom: We’ll be cheering you on! Love you!! :)
She didn’t reply because she couldn’t think of a way to not lie. The girl won’t be doing her best, since she won’t shave her head. She might get trounced and prematurely end her hopes and dreams. Her phone rested on the table once again… Her phone started this whole situation.
Uraraka slammed her bedroom door and leapt face-first into her bed. Her leg kicked as she screamed in her pillow, frustrated beyond belief at her parents’ stubbornness. If she simply didn’t go to high school, she could work fulltime. Their business would get the necessary boost to compete with the other guys. They’d have MONEY. She worked part-time already.
But no. No! They not only insisted she attend a high school, but they’ll fire her starting her freshman year. Were they insane? How would they pay for high school? How could she focus on SCHOOL as her family went from poor to undeniably destitute?
She gasped after realizing her back touched the ceiling. “Release,” she whispered as she and the pillow found gravity once more. They insisted she find her own dream. Didn’t they know she already had one? All she wanted to do was help her parents. Her stomach churned as she remembered the time just before she entered elementary school. For months, she wondered why Mom and Pa never felt hungry during dinner. In hindsight, the reason was obvious. There was only enough dinner for one.
The girl groaned like an irritated zombie. She was the answer to all their problems, but they told her a big, friggen no. Why force her? She LIKED working with her folks. It made her HAPPY. How could she do that in high school? For that matter, how could they afford a high school worth attending?
Uraraka opened her phone and searched “best free high schools”, and absent-mindedly looked through the list. Not one had a recognizable name until she got to the bottom. She mumbled, “U.A. gives a full scholarship to all students in their heroics course.” Really? All those rich kids from hero families with a hundred personal trainers get free tuition. What? “Damn capitalism.”
Not seeing any options yet, she searched “Highest paying jobs after graduating high school”. If her parents won’t let her help them now, they’ll just have to wait three years. She’ll toss money at them until it’s up to their elbows. She scanned through another list. Transportation, storage, and distribution managers got a lot. Elevator installers. Maybe that’d work with her Quirk. Private detectives. Those were still a thing? First-line supervisors, whatever that meant. At least they got paid a lot too. Oh, and at the bottom was another add on like last time, not really part of the list but more like something the author tacked on for fun. U.A. again?
The girl almost chocked on her own spit. THAT many zeroes just for the first year?! Her parents could RETIRE off that. Like any other kid, she pretended to be a hero, but they were actually that LOADED?
For the next hour, the girl rapidly read any material she could find on U.A.’s hero course and its graduates. Apparently, every agency fought over the so-called cream of the crop, and they fought by throwing buckets of cash at the sidekick prospects.
And that’s how a poor country bumpkin decided she’ll become a hero.
She lacked all the finesse of her peers like Todoroki, Tenya, Yaoyorozu, or Eri. She didn’t have years of practice like Bakugo or Kirishima. Her Quirk didn’t have overwhelming power like Tokoyami or Kaminari. She didn’t have Deku’s startling intelligence.
Uraraka was Uraraka. Her childhood consisted of drawing pictures of ponies and doing all her home’s chores since Mama stayed out all night working. Her middle school involved sorta paying attention in class, working five hours on weekdays and ten on weekends, and half-heartedly finishing her homework. She didn’t lift weights because she made things weightless. She didn’t fight because her parents’ company needed the best reputation possible. Heck, Eri told her she’d break her knuckles with the way she thought she should punch.
Somehow, she made it into U.A. by running really fast, touching robots to make them float, and saving Deku who exploded his limbs to save HER because SHE didn’t see the building that fell on her legs… That got her rescue points somehow. Don’t kick a gift horse in the nose, right?
As the match ended in Mina’s win, she realized she’ll be the one standing in that concrete colosseum. Her opponent ended up being Monoma, one of the worst possible foes for her. Her only advantage based itself in her Quirk. Zero Gravity took away an object’s gravity (and a few other things if Deku’s mumblings were right) if she touched it with all five of her fingers. He needed to touch her hair, then he’d copy her Quirk. In other words, to use her Quirk, she’d lose the only advantage she had in the first place.
Furthermore, Monoma seemed RICH. Like, he could crap in a gold toilet and not think that’s weird. Well, maybe not that rich, but he had money. Manicured fingers, impeccable hair, and that wristwatch. She looked it up after he came to mock the class… only to be roasted by Eri. Yay! But, the watch cost enough to cover her family for three months.
Why did his wealth cause a problem? Besides the fact that it annoyed her just a little bit, it meant he had trainers. Little Monoma wanted to be a hero. His parents, being sane and not wanting their kid to die, would hire the best trainers possible to make him a well-oiled machine. His Quirk almost required it. He copied Quirks, so he had to use the only weapon he always had available. His body. He could probably equal 1-A’s best fighters in a Quirkless match.
She, on the other hand, had a handful of lessons from Eri.
Uraraka didn’t know this, but most teenagers her age would tremble under her self-assigned duties. She faced seemingly insurmountable odds to market herself. She thought her family’s livelihood rested on her performance, and in the back of her mind, she felt like she shouldn’t be a hero. Of everyone in class, she was the least of them all. A hero for money. A student by spamming her Quirk. A country bumpkin in an alien metropolis.
And yet, she didn’t cower in the face of doom for the very reasons that’d crush another soul. The fifteen-year-old concluded she had to provide for her family, so why do anything that’d hinder that goal? Would a panic attack buy a meal? Would failure amount to the day where she could give her parents their happily ever after? Would crying achieve anything but reduced vision?
So no, the girl marched from the waiting room to the edge of the arena, waiting only for Present Mic to announce her coming. She emanated a feeling that her fainter classmates called terrifying. Warriors from older days could call it the eyes of a berserker. Eraser Head had the same look whenever his students or an innocent civilian were in danger. Endeavor would recognize it from a mirror.
The girl simply determined to win, so every fragment of her existence gave their all to achieve that goal. Her mind cleared from unnecessary worries. Her breathing became collected and rhythmic. Even her muscles relaxed in some places and tensed in others.
She didn’t recall moving from the shadows to the arena. The words from Midnight’s mouth went in one ear and out the other. For all she knew, the crowd didn’t exist. Only two things mattered. The words START and the blond scowling at her. His arms hung casually besides his hips. He smirked like a boy who finished his test ten minutes before all the others. He licked his lips, assured of his victory.
“I will show who’s the superior hero class!” he boasted and flipped some of his hair away from his eyes. Despite thinking so highly of himself, he did a crappy job at marketing. Who’d want an intern with that attitude, even if all people could see was his snobby smile and hair flipping? Maybe he thought he’d win the whole competition and get offers that way?
Uraraka shook her head at the unnecessary distraction. That boy was her target. The moment she reached him, he’d copy her Quirk, so she had just one moment to press her advantage. Take away his gravity and push. With nothing to stop him, he’d tootle out of bounds like a lost balloon. If that fails, her chances of victory fall to almost nothing.
“Start!” She charged at the sound of that voice. Her legs pushed with every step, gaining momentum. She kept her head down which lowered her center of gravity. Monoma had yet to move nor did he indicate otherwise.
His fingers brushed against her hair as she pushed him with an open palm. She had the angle steeper than the ground, so he floated away but slightly up. In other words, she won.
She won?
If she won, why did he giggle. “Oh, this’s rich!” he mocked. “Release!” She froze in shock. He dropped a meter to the cement. He stopped her Quirk. He stopped her friggen Quirk! Copied Quirks could do that?!
All sound stopped in her left ear. With surprising speed, he’d sprinted and attacked with a slap to the side of her head. At the very least, it disoriented her. At most, it ruptured her ear drum. As her feet shifted to account for the force, his fist connected to her right eye. Her arms moved up by instinct, but she didn’t react in time. He jabbed her neck and slapped the right side of her head. That time, all of his fingers connected. She rotated down as if she was a clock’s hour hand. Her head cracked against the cement.
In the period of three seconds, Uraraka became mostly deaf, half-blind, and somewhat unable to breathe. With the addition of a headache akin to a migraine, she felt like shit.
While most teenagers would try to put some distance between themselves and the devastating foe, Uraraka couldn’t. She was going to win, and the finer details of battle such as tactical retreats didn’t occur to her. Instead, she responded by making a prideless yet effective counterattack.
She grabbed his left leg and bit as hard as she fucking could.
The potent taste of iron met her tongue, the only sense still working in proper condition. Even with her ringing ears, she heard him scream bloody murder. In a panic, he kicked at her exposed lower jaw which dislodged her from his calf. Since neither of them released her from her lack of gravity, she soared backwards.
“Release!” she shouted… or assumed her did. Air scrapped against her damaged throat, and she didn’t hear her own voice. She felt gravity’s embrace and skidded against the concrete which added abrasions to her growing list of injuries. With great strain, she pushed herself to her feet and wiped her chin. Seeing blood on her sleeve, a lot of blood, she realized he must’ve busted her chin or lip with that kick. She didn’t notice.
He pointed his finger at her accusingly. His mouth moved and his eyes shone in anger, but she couldn’t hear him.
“What?” she shouted, only barely hearing her words this time. “A can’t hear ya!” Without her self-evaluation abilities, her accent slipped back to her hometown’s.
She tilted her head to the right, since that ear picked up more than the left. With a maddened snarl, he shouted, “You bit me!”
“Yup!” A black eye’s discoloration formed around her previous wound. It fully appeared by the battle’s end.
“You filthy hypocrites!” He shook in anger or perhaps glee at his perceived revealing of 1-A’s apparent… evilness? “You think you’re exceptional, the best, the numbers ones! Ha! I laugh at your stupidity. You’re nothing but a dog biting at the ankles of your betters! Your parents must be so ashamed because they raised a bitch!”
“Mama, Pa! I did it! I’m in! I’m goin’ to U.A.!” Tears streamed down her face as she wrapped her parents in a hug. They watched the video together, so now they celebrate together.
Her father was the first to speak. “We’re so proud of ya, my little gravity girl.”
“I’ll help ya. I promise,” she swore like so many times before.
“Even if ya never give us a dime,” Mama spoke with a conviction only a mother could bring, “We’re proud of ya because you’re you, Ochaco. Never forget that.”
Monoma stepped back. Even he could tell he said something the fundamentally shook the girl’s foundations. Her working eye bore into his soul while the swollen one did its best to do the same. Blood dripped down from her forehead and lip, but the primal side of his mind feared his would be spilled even more.
“I think I’m better than ya?” Her voice came out like a cough, but the confusion was more than apparent. She’d be less surprised if he claimed two plus two was fifty. “Are you insane?”
She steamrolled ahead. When she reached her enemy, he shot his arm forward to use her Quirk again. She grabbed his hand with all her fingers and twisted it back. As his mouth opened to let out a pained whimper, she flipped the now gravity-free boy over her head and wordlessly released his weightlessness as his arc reached the highest point. His back took the brunt of the impact.
Eri would’ve recognized it as a move she taught, the gravity part notwithstanding.
“I live off instant ramen!” She accentuated her declaration by stomping on his family jewels. The normally kindhearted girl felt no empathy for the smug asshole who slapped her, punched her, called her prideful, and DARED claim her parents weren’t proud. Plus, he called her a bitch.
“My folks missed supper just so I could be full!” She stomped on his stomach. The human body could generate the most force through the legs in almost all cases. She took advantage of that.
“Mom and Dad are workin’ themselves to death, and ya think I feel superior?” She spit blood and saliva in his face as she stepped on his right hand, though not hard enough to break his fingers.
“I just wanna help my folks!” She grabbed her opponent by his shirt and hoisted the weightless body. Her face contorted to a ruthless anger, and she snarled, “Now, take everything ya said back and surrender, ya lily-livered turd!”
Through various waves of pain, nausea and the fear of permanent neutering, Monoma pleaded, “I take everything back! I surrender!” He meant both.
“And the winner is Uraraka!” Present Mic announced. His voice echoed throughout the stadium. “Eraser Head, what the hell kinda training did you put such a sweet girl through?” She suppressed a giggle.
Her homeroom teacher deadpanned, “I’ve only had them for a few weeks. Everything you’ve seen is what they brought to the table.”
Her eyes lit up in his praise, and her brain finally caught up to the fact that she stood in the middle of a thousand spectators with millions more watching on tv. Knowing that, she looked at the nearest floating camera and gave her cheeriest, most genuine smile possible… regardless of the black eye, bleeding forehead, and busted lip.
She waived at the camera and squealed, “Mama, Pa! I did it!”
It was the Sport Festival’s most adorably horrifying sight that year.
BREAK LOGIC
Eri stood stiff as a board, watching Uraraka sprint out the nursing office and to the waiting room. She left her phone there and wanted to call her parents. If it wasn’t for the staff forcing her otherwise, she would’ve done the call first and the healing second.
Why did she stand so stiff? Uraraka hugged her in her glee. She had yet to… acclimate herself to close interpersonal contact.
“Get used to it, sweetheart,” advised Recovery Girl. “You dragged that girl with you all the way to the final event. I’m pretty old, but those sure looked like moves you’d use out there.”
“I advised her on the effectiveness of the groin stomp among other things.”
“Well, a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do, or that’s how we said it when I was a student here.” She slapped Eri on the back, which caused her to give an uncharacteristic squeak. “Now, go be a nurse and help that boy out. I think you’re suited for getting him back on his feet.”
She titled her head to the side. “But I already healed him.”
“I wasn’t talking about the body.” And with that, the elderly lady hobbled to the screen where Kaminari shocked Kirishima while Kirishima bashed against Kaminari. In other words, they’ll need healing.
Eri turned her attention to Monoma who, while being healed, laid on a hospital bed and faced a wall. Judging from the woman’s inferences, the student needed emotional support. Eri never claimed to be good, proficient, or even understanding in that area.
“Are you still injured?” she asked. He didn’t reply. “Are you tired? My healing doesn’t exhaust those effected, so I wouldn’t think that’s the case.” He didn’t move. “Did my Quirk cause you any adverse eff-”
“Shut up,” he mumbled. He curled into a ball. “Stop mocking me.”
“I’m not mocking you. I’m confused why you’re lying on the bed for-”
He stood up and pointed at her which revealed he’d been crying silent tears. “Everyone mocks me! Don’t you understand? Quirks are identity, and my identity is copying other’s achievements! This was my chance to prove them wrong.” He looked away from her and clenched his fists. “I have to use whatever I can to win, but everyone seems to think you need a flashy Quirk to be a hero. I fight dirty. I say whatever I can to make my opponent lose focus. What did all my efforts give me?”
He chuckled in self-humiliation. “I’m not an idiot. Everyone will see me as the dick who slapped a girl around, called her a bitch, then got curb stomped by that girl AFTER I hurt her.” He sighed and said to himself more than her, “I guess they were right. I’m not suited for heroics with my Quirk and personality.”
Eri couldn’t fathom how to respond. She imagined how a certain friend would react in her shoes and went from there. “My Quirk heals and is almost uncontrollable. My personality is rather bad and emotionless.” Eri shrugged. “I will be a hero. Perhaps you aren’t suited for this job, but you have the opportunity regardless. I don’t like you, so these words aren’t to be nice.” She outstretched her hand. “You can’t change your Quirk, but you can change yourself. I’m Eri Aizawa from class 1-A. I train on mornings and afternoons. I invite you to join my peers and I.”
He looked at the outstretched hand in wonder.
“I believe you’re supposed to shake it, Monoma.”
He nodded and shook her hand. “Are you being serious?”
“I am not proficient in humor.” She let go of his hand and pointed to the door. “Uraraka trains with me, and she used much of what she learned on you. I suggest you make amends. She should be somewhere around her waiting room talking with her parents. Consider this your first constate step in increasing compatibility between you and the class.”
He nodded. Any sane defeated nation accepted the olive branch if offered. “Um, thanks?”
“I’m glad to be of service.” After hearing her final words, he left in search of the person who defeated him with a nationwide audience.
Eri stood and waited for Kirishima and Kaminari to arrive. The sturdier of the two won, so their loud presences should grace this room shortly. Even so, she wondered if she took the correct approach. The entire time, she had no idea what to say and just pretended to be Mina. A very stoic Mina, but a Mina nonetheless.