Chapter Text
Ever since Yui had been a young girl, she had been told to dream big.
Her mother had wanted this for her, that she was to become a hero. She had always told her, whenever Yui had felt down, or uncertain about what she wanted to do, that she should always “dream big, and you will become a hero.”
Now, she was here.
UA.
Where future pro-heroes gathered, and were taught, to become the best of the best. Here were people better than Yui, in every single way. They had bigger ambitions, bigger spirits, and most importantly, bigger dreams. Yet, she was still here anyways.
She was here.
The words repeated in her mind, almost like an echo, except it kept an equal volume the entire time, never fading, never leaving, simply there.
She shook her head. It did no help for her if she got stuck over tiny details like that. She just had to go forth, and take those exams with all she had to offer, and she would be in.
She had to get in. If not for herself, for her mother.
She took a breath, and stepped forward.
---
“Mama! Mama!” she had shouted, calling to her mother. She was 4 years old, young and naïve, and her mother was still young as well, more beautiful in Yui’s memories of her then than she was later. Yui didn’t know.
“What is it, Yui?” her mother had laughed, leaning down, but she clearly knew what was the occasion. Her child had discovered her quirk, or otherwise Yui wouldn’t have been so proud of herself, with such a wide smirk across her face.
“Look what I can do!”
And her mother looked up and saw her daughter, a 4-year-old child, tower only slightly above her. Her mother gasped, and Yui had a smug smirk on her face, her hands on her hips. Her clothes had torn and been rip to shreds, due to the pressure of suddenly having to fit inside of a large toddler. In hindsight, it had been a bad idea to show it off outdoors.
Her mother, however, cheered. Her mother was so happy back then, as well as beautiful, at least in Yui’s memories. It was something she missed.
---
The practical seemed simple enough. Destroy as many of the obstacles as possible. Yui could do that, she told herself, repeatedly. She had to do it.
They had been left in front of a wall, and from what she could see, inside there was a replica of a city.
“Aren’t you a bit nervous?” a girl next to her asked. Yui looked, and saw she was about the same age as her, red hair swept into a ponytail that hung loosely at the side of her head. She had loose blue jogging pants and a black tank top, with what Yui presumed was the tracksuits jacket tied around her waist. The girl had strongly defined arms, Yui noticed.
Yui hesitated to respond. She opened her mouth, glanced to the side, and glanced back at the girl. “No,” she lied.
“Well, I am,” the girl laughed, shaking the back of her head. Yui glanced again to the side, frowned, and then looked back. “My name’s Kendou Itsuka, by the way.”
“Kodai Yui,” she said softly. Yui felt bad for Kendou, who was simply trying to relieve her nerves, but talking with Yui couldn’t have been more of a mistake. She wasn’t here to make friends – at least, not now. She was here to secure her place as a hero-in-training. And Kendou, as nice as she may have been, was competition for that role.
“So, how do you think you will perform in the exam, Kodai-san?” Kendou asked. Yui mentally groaned in frustration.
“I’ll get in,” she tried to fake confidence, at least for a little while. She couldn’t appear weak, especially not now.
Kendou simply nodded, before smiling. “I will too,” she smiled wide. Yui was slightly disheartened by this, as before that point Kendou had been more nervous. She mentally cursed herself, as if she had anything to do with that.
Yui glanced aside for a third time, and did not say anything else.
---
“I’m going to take the UA entrance exam, father,” Yui had told her father over dinner one night. That had been a month ago.
Her father looked at her for a moment, wide-eyed, before he started laughing. His laugh was dry, rough from his chainsmoking. He took a sip from his beer, before he did as if he was clearing a tear from his eye. “Funny joke, Yui.”
“I’m not joking.”
That had brought a serious tone to the dinner table. Yui’s father looked into his glass of beer, shaking it, rhythmically, from side to side, as if in thought.
“Why?” he asked.
“I want to be a hero,” Yui answered immediately. Her father’s eyes widened in anger, and Yui flinched.
Yet, he didn’t react the way she thought he world. Instead, he stroked his stubble thoughtfully for a moment, his eyes burrowing, and Yui did not know how to read him. This was something new.
“A hero, huh?” he muttered. He took another sip of his beer.
“Well, I thought, if I became a hero, then I could…” her voice trailed off.
“You could what? Gain fame? Money?” her father asked, his hands waving to the side in frustration.
“I want you to stay safe, to not get in trouble, to get a good education and a good job. I don’t ask for much! Yet now, you bring up this hero crap, as if you don’t know the risks, the possibility of-“
“I want to do it for mama,” Yui cut him off, “I promised her."
Her father went silent. His mouth closed, then opened, then closed again. What felt like minutes passed with not a word spoken by either of them, her father’s face clearly in deep thought
Finally, he spoke, one simple sound. “Oh.”
“Well, I suppose you can try then.”
---
Yui made sure not to overdo her quirk, most of the time. If she got too large, then her clothes might rip, and she hated that. If she got too small, then her clothes might simply fall off her, and or hang loosely by her side, and she could trip and fall.
However, on this occasion, Yui had chosen to wear clothes much too big for her. She had gotten odd stares at first, most likely from people questioning her baggy appearance. She, in turn, gave them an icy stare. They looked away after that.
When the practical started, she had been at normal size. But, as they ran through the replica city, she started to grow larger and larger. Soon, she was the size of a very tall man, maybe a basketball player if not a bit taller, and the baggy clothes she had worn that day were perfectly snug around her. It had taken a bit of bargaining to get it from the second-hand store, but they sure were handy now.
The first obstacle, she simply jumped up, and crushed it with her feet. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t stand a chance. She continued onwards, mentally calculating her points. The one she had just destroyed was worth 1 points, so that’d mean that-
Another obstacle walked in her way, and this time she was caught off guard. However, Yui managed to rear her foot upwards towards the face of the robot, kicking it with enough force so that it was pushed back. Yui then ran as fast as she could so she could grab it by it’s mechanical leg and threw it towards the side, into the building of a wall.
That was a 2-point bot, she thought mentally. That meant three points. Yui then ran ahead, again, not letting herself be stopped.
As Yui continued running, she see saw the carapaces of the villain bots scattered around. She continued to stomp, crush, or simply throw the robots around, easily destroying a large amount, and by the time that it was around seven or so minutes, she had accumulated a good 17 points or so.
She stopped to catch her breath, her heart pounding, each beat physically hurting her inside her chest. This was the longest she had ever stayed in her large form - normally, she could only do it for about five or so minutes before her heart started going out. As she shrunk back to her normal size, she had a violent coughing fit, taking a step back, before recomposing herself.
She stood tall again, and looked around and saw the others beating any remaining villain bots into the ground. Yui noticed Kendou, her hands having transformed into giant fists, smashing her right fist into the face of 1-point bot. However, Yui looked further and saw something even more disconcerting.
A large mechanical thing, as tall as a skyscraper, towered over them, appearing seemingly out of nowhere. It lumbered towards them, not slowly but slow enough. It moved it’s fist into the sky and then launched it straight into the ground, causing vibrations.
It was the 0-point bot, the obstacle, and it was much larger than Yui could ever hope to be.
---
In her memories, Yui’s mother is always smiling, even when she is in pain.
A doctor spoke with her father in the background, but Yui drowned out their words. She could only helplessly cling to her mother, as she caressed her cheek, smiling, weakly, her eyes half-closed.
She heard the doctor spout words she didn’t understand, but she knew what they all meant, and Yui hated it. Her mother was dying. Worst of all, there was nothing anybody could do about it.
Her father was shouting at the doctor to fix it, he didn’t care about the costs, just save his wife. Yet the doctor did not budge – there was no cure for whatever had plagued her mother. Yui never asked. She didn’t want to know, either.
She knew what it was in the back of her mind.
Her father eventually stormed off, his face redder than Yui had ever seen it before, leaving her with her mother.
Yui looked up to see her mother’s eyes, and saw that they were so very, very tired. They had lost their lustre, the shine that had twinkled in them when she was younger, like when she had discovered her quirk. Yet her mother’s smile, that was genuine, that was whole.
“We’ll be fine, Yui,” her mother’s voice was weary, yet warm. “I’ll never leave your side, alright? Mama promises.”
Shortly after that, her father returned into the room to pick her up, and they returned home from the hospital. That was the night that Yui’s father started drinking.
---
Should she run, or should she fight?
Should she go forward, or backwards?
Should she do anything at all?
Yui saw people running past her, yet she simply stood there, unmoving, amazed by it’s size. Was this the scale that a true villain would be able to become? Would she, in the future, be able to be that large?
Clothes would be an issue, was her first thought, although it wasn’t necessarily appropriate.
She looked down, towards the ground, and saw a few people seemingly standing there, not moving, instead prepared to fight. Yui supposed anybody past her would think she was doing much the same.
“We have to help him!” a familiar voice shouted out, Kendou, Yui realised. She looked forwards and saw a young, small, chubby boy with silver hair, fairly close towards the robot. In fact, he was so close, that he was in dangerous risk of being crushed.
A few rushed forwards to try and help the boy, and Yui realized they wouldn’t be able to make it out in time if they got there. They’d be killed as well.
The next few seconds were a blur in Yui’s mind. She wasn’t sure what she was doing, but she found herself moving forwards, one step at a time, growing in size from normal to large, larger than she had ever been before. She heard her clothes rip and tear under the pressure - but she didn’t care.
“Hey, it’ll be alright, you hear me?” Kendou said, standing next to the boy, grabbing him, and then looking at the robot. It was only a few paces before it would crush them both.
She ran as fast as she could, not caring about her heart, nor about her clothes, nor anything else.
What her mother told her so long ago repeated in her head, for some reason.
---
“Your quirk is just like mine, hmm?” Yui’s mother smiled gently, her face less worn than in the hospital. This was years before that, when Yui was still four, and her mother still had youth in her face and a spark in her eyes.
“Nope!” Yui had laughed, smiling wide.
“Oh? Then tell me, Yui, what is the difference between yours and mine?”
“I can become small, too!” Yui was so proud, and showed it by shrinking herself. Shrinking was easier than growing larger, at that time and still later. It consumed less energy, and put less stress on the heart.
Yui’s mother clapped, picking up her slightly smaller child, whose clothes had now become looser and baggier. She spun around with laughter in the air, before putting Yui back down again.
“That’s a really great quirk, Yui,” her mother’s tone was different, slightly more serious, “With a quirk like that, I can see you becoming a pro-hero, you know?”
“Me?” Yui’s voice was full of awe. Her? A hero? The thought had never struck her before then, but then again, neither had her quirk appeared before then. Yet even at four, she still was equally as uncertain as she was when she was older. “I don’t know if I could do that or not.”
Her mother took Yui’s cheek and pulled it gently. “Weren’t you the one who told me that you wanted to be a hero?”
“Maybe,” Yui spoke sheepishly.
“If you dream big enough, you can do anything, you know.”
Those words, they set off something in Yui’s heart.
“My dream is to become a hero! Really! But, I’m not sure if-“
“You can,” her mother interrupted her with a hug, pulling her in closely, “Don’t ever doubt yourself.”
“Alright, Mama. I promise. I’ll become a pro-hero. I promise.”
---
When Yui came into contact with the robot’s body, she felt her heart ache. She made a small gasp, unsure about what to do now that she had gotten herself into this position. She wouldn’t be able to make it.
“Eight minutes!” Present Mic blasted across all the different venues.
“Kodai-san?” Kendou asked, and Yui looked back at her.
“I’ll be fine!” she lied through gritted teeth, before making a visible grimace as her heart took another beat and felt as if it had been shot. “Just- go!”
Yet, Kendou didn’t. She let go of the boy, who seemed to have regained some form of control over his body, before she joining Yui in pushing the robot back.
“You can’t do this by yourself, can you, Kodai-san?” Kendou asked, and Yui felt a wave of guilt wash over her. She looked to the other side, and saw the chubby boy having joined Kendou, pushing back as well, a pale blue glow covering his arms and legs. Why weren’t they running? Why were they risking their lives-
Her chest ached again, her heart beating faster and faster. She couldn’t feel her arms anymore, yet Yui continued to push on.
She heard a mechanical whrrr come from behind her, and saw the hand of the robot reaching to grab them. However, before anything could happen, vines burst out of the ground to grab hold of it, essentially immobilizing it. Several others who had stayed behind rushed to the robot as well, grabbing hold of it and pushing it back. Yui wasn’t sure how to react, but before she could say anything, her heart took another stab, and she felt her grip on the robot weaken.
Her arms reached towards her chest, and she felt herself take a step back. She fell onto the ground, and felt her back ache as she came into contact with the pavement, but she didn’t care. She got launched into a coughing fit. Yui looked up at the sky, and saw it was cloudless.
“Tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiimes up!” the ever-present voice of Present Mic screamed out.
“You alright?” Kendou reached out.
“Y-yeah,” she lied again, before launching into a coughing fit. Yui felt numb in her legs and arms. Yet, she managed to move her hand up, and grabbed Kendou’s. She was pulled up, but nearly fell down again. Kendou wrapped her arm around Yui’s back and helped steady her.
“T-thank you,” Yui’s voice was weak, shaking, but when she looked at Kendou she couldn’t help but give her a small smile, before looking back at the sky.
She hoped her mother was proud of her.
---
When her father picked her up, and saw Yui’s clothing ripped, he freaked out at her when they got into the car.
“What happened? Are you alright? You didn’t wear yourself out? Is your heart okay? Are you breathing alright?” he asked in a barrage of questions, continuing for a good solid ten minutes or so.
“I’m fine,” Yui said weakly, every few seconds or so, intermixed with weak coughs. “It’s fine, dad. Don’t work yourself over it.”
“Yui…” her father’s voice was troubled.
“Mhm?” she looked at her father, whose face was surprisingly dour, “What is it?”
“Could you share what, uh,” her father paused, almost as if he was unsure if he could ask the question or not, “tell me what happened?”
“Nothing happened,” Yui lied. She didn’t want her father to scream at her. To shout at her for what she did. Even though it was right, she knew her father wouldn’t see it that way. He’d get angry, worry about her needlessly, and berate her for not caring about her health.
She would be fine.
“Alright, alright,” he resigned himself, yet the tone of his voice clearly hinted that he wasn’t convinced that nothing happened. There was an awkward silence hanging over them in the car as it drove to their apartment flat.
“I’ve, uh. Been thinking,” her father told her when they got into their small apartment, nothing compared to the home they had had when they lived in Shimane, but it was good enough.
“Mhm,” she murmured, taking off the torn jacket, revealing a t-shirt that had also been stretched beyond repair. Yui sighed, frustrated at the constant destruction of her clothing when her quirk was being used.
“I’ve seen all the hard work you’ve been pushing into this hero stuff recently, so I was thinking that I should, how do I put this?” her father paused, and Yui looked at him with a puzzled look. He glanced aside, and Yui realized suddenly that she had picked that habit from him. She didn’t like that fact.
“I’m gonna quit drinking. And smoking. I haven’t been the father I should have been. And I’m gonna try and improve. For you. For your mother, too,” Yui’s father made a weak smile, before he rubbed the back of his head, abashedly looking at the ground.
“Oh,” Yui felt like she was about to cry, and she hated it. She wanted to run into her room, and not leave for the rest of the night. “I’m going to shower now, dad.”
“You do that, Yui. I’ll go buy, what, ramen? Is ramen good?” her father asked, letting her go not immediately.
“It’s good,” Yui nodded, and then she rushed into the bathroom and locked the door.
When she got in there, with a sigh of relief, she sat on the edge of the toilet and cried to herself, so unsure about why she was worth this.
Why now? Why now, and not then? Why was he not dismissing her? It felt unreal, in the sense that her father seemed to show more care for her than he ever had since-
Since-
Her mother had died.
---
In the months following the first meeting with the doctor, Yui’s mother’s health decreased drastically. When they had arrived that weekend, her mother was barely conscious. A heartbeat monitor had been put in place, with slow beeps, not in a tempo but sporadic. She knew that wasn’t right.
“Mrs. Kodai,” the nurse spoke in a hushed tone, gently nudging her mother, “your husband and daughter are here to see you.”
Beep.
Yui had rushed towards her mother’s side, while her father walked slowly, uncertain. He had been quiet for most of the day.
“Mama?” Yui called for her mother, her voice quiet.
“Yui…” her mother’s face curled into a weak smile, her eyes hardly opening, yet her hand reaching out to grab Yui’s hand. It was thin.
Beep.
“Yui, dear, listen to me,” her mother’s voice was so very, very tired. Her mother coughed violently, and the nurse’s eyes widened, yet didn’t say anything.
“Your mother will not be around for much longer, Yui,” her mother smiled. Yui wasn’t sure what to say, so she stayed quiet.
“Don’t say that to her, you’ll-“ her father wanted to say something, but cut himself off. Her mother was looking at him, only for a moment, and then she looked back to Yui.
Beep.
“You’re stronger than you think, Yui, and I see the way you doubt yourself and your quirk. You’ve made your mother so, so proud, and-,” her sentence was cut off by more coughing, this time even more violently. Her eyes closed in pain, but her mother quickly resumed a weak smile.
Beep.
“Don’t give up on your dreams, Yui. Promise me that much,” her mother asked, the heart monitor becoming even more erratic.
Beep.
“I- I promise, Mama,” Yui nodded slowly.
“Good,” Yui’s mother leaned back into the large pillow, smiling, her face at peace. She closed her eyes.
Beep.
Her mother’s grip on her hand weakened, until it slowly let loose.
Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeee-
Yui knew in an instant what that meant, and she screamed, trying to grab her mother’s hand, to somehow make it grip back.
She had to be dragged out of the room by her father as nurses and doctors panicked around them, and they were hurried out. Tears rolled down her eyes as her mother’s body left her vision.
An hour later, they were informed that her mother’s heart had stopped beating.
Yui cried herself to sleep that night, and her father drank himself to sleep. Neither talked to each other much for the rest of the week.
---
The results arrived a week later, in an envelope. Yui, much to her father’s surprise, ripped it open nearly immediately.
It had been a much calmer week since the entrance exam. Since her father had stopped drinking and smoking, he’d taken up a more active role in taking care of the house - which, while in itself it wasn’t bad, Yui felt uncomfortable by it. It wasn’t something she was used to, having free time on her hands.
She read it with the entrance letter with her shoulders hunched up, the further she read, the further she drew the letter to her face.
“And?” her father asked, after she put the letter down.
She breathed in, and out, slowly. “I’m in.”
Her father launched himself at Yui, and for a second, she instantly winced, mostly from surprise. Yet, as she opened her eyes, she saw that her father was instead hugging her.
“I’m so, so proud of you, Yui,” his tone was nearly fatherly, and it made Yui feel sick.
“Thanks, papa,” she looked to the door of her room, wishing she was in there rather than here.
He let go of her, keeping his hands on her shoulders.
“Yui. I know I haven’t been the best father, and I know that it’s my fault that you’ve had to bear so much on your shoulders. But you’ve grown into such a beautiful, strong woman, without any thing but your own heart stirring you on. I could never have been more proud of you,” he spoke so softly, his tone so father-like, it was a sharp contrast to the way it had been for years.
“I,” Yui opened her mouth. Before closing it. She frowned, and looked at the floor.
“I want to make up for being lost time. Tonight, we can go anywhere, anywhere you want for dinner,” he patted her on the back, and then hugged her again. Yui felt a lump in her throat and felt like she was about to cry.
“Can we just, eat at home, please?” she asked quietly, unsure if he would accept it.
“Yeah, sure,” her father held her tighter, and kissed her on the forehead, the bristle of the overgrown stubble rubbing against it, “anything you want.”
“Thank you,” Yui whispered, her voice raspy as she struggled to keep herself from crying.
“Do you…wanna tell you’re mother that you got in?” her father asked suddenly, and Yui looked up at him and saw that he was nearly crying himself, “I think she’d like that, but it’s your choice.”
Now, Yui was crying. “Yes,” she said softly, before hugging her father back, “I’d like that very much.”
---
The next day, Yui visited her mother.
“I did it, mama,” Yui spoke softly, gripping the aster and lily bouquet tightly, not willing to let it go. It was a Saturday afternoon, and there was not a cloud in the sky, despite the chilly weather.
“I got into UA,” she wasn’t sure why she was talking out loud, but she was.
“I’m going to be a hero. So,” Yui breathed in, “I hope you’re proud of me.”
“I know I’m not the best daughter, and I make it tough for dad. There are probably better daughters out there, that you'd want instead of me,” she glanced aside, not knowing whether to continue or not.
“I just…miss you. So much. I wish you were here. I want you to smile at me, and tell me that I’ve done alright. But,” she paused.
“I know you can’t.”
“Remember what you told me, when I discovered my quirk, and you told me I could be a hero, if I only dreamed big enough? Yeah.”
“That dreams on the way to becoming true. And when I am a hero.”
“I-I’ll return here.”
“So you can be extra proud of me.”
“I love you, mama. See you next year.”
She placed the flowers on the grave, in their designated position. She looked up, and saw a picture of her mother smiling. She then left the graveyard to go to her father, who was waiting by the entrance.
“You did what you wanted to do here?”
“Yes, papa,” she said, still partially unsure how to treat this seemingly changed father of hers.
“Good, good,” he spoke, mumbling something to himself before stroking his chin. He had shaved that morning, and seemed frustrated to find the lack of a stubble. “Well, then, let’s go home.”
“Sure,” Yui murmured to herself, but she looked back towards the graveyard. The sun was shining bright over it, statues of heroes laid to rest there dotted around the entrance.
Yui would become a hero. She had to.
For her mother.