Chapter Text
To say that Nadoka was surprised was an understatement. She applied to UA High School completely on a whim, a bundle of emotions stretching from anger to excitement to utter fear spilling out onto her application paper and stuffing it into her mailbox before she could process what she’d actually done. Due to her familial connections, of which were widely known by pro heroes and agencies alike, she expected to be denied by UA immediately, left to attend some public, subpar high school with a bunch of Quirkless idiots.
Not that being Quirkless was a bad thing. She knew better than most that being Quirkless was in no way bad. It just wasn’t where she needed to be— not if she wanted to be a pro hero.
Everyone had their reasons for wanting to become a pro hero, and while most revolved around promises of fame and fortune, there were a few people she’d met in her life who had very pure, honorable reasons for desiring to become a hero.
Nadoka Takahashi was one of them.
And so her application had been sent in, and high praise from her father, who until recently had been unaware of her attempts to attend the school of all schools, helped to staunch the ever-rising worry that she had made the wrong choice. She waited a few days until someone sent her a response, telling her when and where to be when she had to take the entrance exams for the school in a few weeks time.
This surprised her.
Nadoka lived alone with her father. Her mother was— gone. That’s all you really need to know for now. Nadoka was a simple girl with a simple life and a simple father. The only difference was her Quirk.
Nadoka’s father, Haru Takahashi, was Quirkless. Nadoka didn’t mind this. It was something that quickly taught her how to be kind to everybody, even those without any special powers to call their own. In her eyes, her Quirkless father was as special and as important as any of the pro heroes she saw on TV. He was an intelligent man with a wise mind, far smarter than the years he’d lived. Her mother, Akiko Takahashi, however, was different. She had a Quirk, and to her delight her daughter inherited it when she was born.
Nadoka Takahashi made crystals. And not just some silly tarot card, psychic mind tomfoolery pieces of rock. She made pure, sparkling, solid masses of amethyst that glimmered millions of shades of a purpley red color that matched the tresses of hair that hung to just below her shoulders. She had the ability to summon them at will, in any shape, size, or fashion that she desired. In the intensive training she underwent with her mother before she left, she learned to summon daggers, swords, and other dangerously sharp weaponry with her crystals.
But Nadoka’s Quirk also differed from her mothers. Nadoka once read in a science textbook that inherited Quirks had a tendency to obtain a sharp increase in power upon being passed down the generations, and this was exactly what Nadoka’s Quirk had done. Her mother made clusters of crystals, Nadoka made mountains. The scale in which she could summon these crystals was much larger than that of her mother’s. Her mother’s crystals were also made of obsidian rather than amethyst, and glowed a beautiful, ecliptic black beneath the sun. Akiko had often told Nadoka that their crystals together forged a breathtaking combination of colors.
Other than her inherited Quirk, Nadoka preferred not to associate any of her characteristics with her mother, instead insisting that she looked and acted more like her father.
Nadoka almost didn’t want to go to UA. There were so many doubts and fears rolling through her head; so many insecurities. She didn’t want to be singled out by teachers or students because of her family. She didn’t want to exhibit any behavior that may scare UA into kicking her out. She didn’t want to fail the entrance exam and be left to wallow in the shame of knowing she wasn’t good enough to be the pro hero she needed to be. And becoming a pro wasn’t an option. It was a necessity.
She would always owe her father for being the person to, so simply and effortlessly, kickstart the rest of her life.
—
“Papa, the mail’s in.” Nadoka called quietly as she stepped over the threshold into her and her father’s home, her eyes glued to the letters in her hand as she shut the front door with her foot. She was unphased by the lack of response from her father— it had grown to the point where her version of talking to him was basically her talking to herself.
Ever since Nadoka and Haru had lost Akiko Takahashi, Haru Takahashi had become a shell of the person he used to be. His wife had been his first and only love, his reason for waking up in the morning. The fact that she was so accepting of his Quirklessness only made him fall in love with her faster, and when she left he felt betrayed. He retreated into himself and found an unlikely obsession with common houseplants, conversing in quiet murmurs to them during all hours of the day and abandoning all of his responsibilities as a house owner and a father. He stopped showing up to work. He sat in a wheelchair, having found the strength of his legs quickly deteriorating soon after his wife left, and talked and watered and loved his plants.
Nadoka sometimes wanted to hate him. It should’ve been easy for her to. He left her with everything, and alongside her school duties she had to adopt the responsibilities of making sure their home didn’t fall into shambles. She worked two jobs to keep food on the table, she did laundry and made sure her father showered and changed his clothes at least every couple of days. She washed the dishes and vacuumed the floors and kept their house looking prim and proper, even the rooms that never seemed to be used anymore. It was like taking care of a useless old man in an elderly home, who also at the same time was a clumsy toddler in a daycare.
And there were times when the work would pile up and the stress would fill her head and threaten to drown her and she would cry. There were times where she would cry because she was just so angry, and she wanted to be angry at her father and she wanted to hate him with everything that she had.
But she couldn’t.
It wasn’t his fault. She knew just how much he had lost when their mother left, and even after she tried to coax him back into himself, she still knew she had to accept that he wasn’t ever going to be the same. She still loved him, because how could she not? He loved her, and in rare moments when the Earth seemed to be turning just for her, she would hear him murmur quiet words of appreciation and love to her. And sometimes, even something as simple as a, “Thank you for the sandwich, No-No,” was enough to make her smile and keep going.
It was a quiet murmur like this that convinced her to take the entrance exam that fateful day.
She walked into their quaint, not-too-big, not-too-small kitchen in their quaint, not-too-big, not-too-small house and plopped down at the table across from her father, who sat with his back to her, cooing softly at a cacti plant on the counter before him. “Water bill’s here, Papa. Don’t worry, I’ve budgeted enough that I’ll have it paid. Looks like there’s another offer from Kurugua High; that’s the third one this week! I’ve got to go to the market tomorrow, and I think I’ve worked up enough savings to let you get another friend—“
Nadoka didn’t dare call her father’s plants— plants. It was the one thing she had ever seen him get upset about. In her haste to set down a heavy bag of groceries one day, an already ill-tempered Nadoka had attempted to push one her father’s many plants out of her way, accidentally knocking it on the floor as she snipped out, “Why must you keep your damn houseplants on the kitchen counters where I have to cook?”
Nadoka had never felt the need to be afraid of her father before, but she did then. Her heterochromatic blue and red eyes flamed with fear as her father suddenly sat straight up in his chair, roaring at her with an anger she’d never felt from him before as he scolded her for knocking over his ‘friend’. From that day on Nadoka made a mental note to only refer to his plants as friends, and also never to touch them; at least not without permission. It was in dealing with her father that Nadoka grew to have astounding patience.
Her father’s tendency to muteness also fueled Nadoka’s habit of muttering. With no one to interject or respond to her quips, Nadoka soon found herself spilling nonsensical, random blurbs as she performed household tasks or did homework. Rarely did Nadoka’s mumbles get interrupted, molding her into a not-so-easily silenced young woman, but on that fateful day she managed to find herself rendered speechless by a golden-threaded envelope with two tell-tale letters stamped on a wax seal.
“Papa?” She stared down at the brightly gleaming wax seal, reading and re-reading the large UA on it, “They actually responded.”
“Who did, No-No?” Haru Takahashi’s voice often if not exclusively stayed at about a whisper level, occasionally working up to a soft mumble if the moment seemed fit for it. It was tranquil, peaceful, and serene, and felt like something Nadoka would hear in a fever dream. The smoothness and pureness with which he spoke confused Nadoka at first, as prior to his mother’s departure, her father was a boisterous, almost loud character. But the more she listened to his gentle murmurs or appreciation for his plants or tiny grumbles of requests for dinner, the more she grew attached to this new, delicate version of her father.
“UA responded to my application, Papa—“ A slight bitterness entered her voice as she tore open the letter— “I figured once they read about our family, they’d toss my application immediately.”
Haru didn’t look away from his plants, his attention shifted from his cacti plant to an Aloe Vera plant with drooping leaves, and he interrupted his own gentle coos of reassurance to the plant to speak to his daughter. “Well, open it, No-No.”
Nadoka wasn’t hopeful as she pulled the letter from the tattered envelope. She also wasn’t very good at opening envelopes neatly. “At least they were kind enough to formally reject me, instead of just pretending I didn’t apply to begin with. Now, let’s read this stupid letter so I can go back to doing things that are more import—“
Nadoka’s voice trailed off as her heterochromatic eyes flicked across one specific line of text over and over again, blinking and trying to make sure she was reading the words printed across it correctly.
“ ‘You’ve been accepted as a potential addition to the UA student hero course, pending assessment following the entrance written and practical exam.’ ” She breathed in shock, her voice barely climbing above a whisper.
But what surprised her the most was not the letter telling her that she would be allowed to take the entrance exams to UA high school, rather her father’s reaction to announcing that she could. He raised his head and slowly turned his wheelchair around, and for the first time in five years, he met his daughter’s eye.
“You get to take the exam.” The murmur of not a question, but a statement.
“—I get to take the exam.”
A silence filled the air as Nadoka looked at Haru and Haru looked at her, and that silence stayed, filthy and suffocating, for minutes that held the power of a lifetime.
“Become a hero—“ Nadoka hadn’t heard her father speak so loudly in years, even if his voice was only slightly above a murmur. His hand suddenly jerked forward, the pads of his fingers barely grazing over the small scar on her left jawline— “ make sure she knows what she left behind .”
—
Nadoka trained harder for that entrance exam than anything she’d ever done in her life. Balancing on a tightrope between two jobs, schoolwork, working out and training, and taking care of her deranged father, it was a wonder the young girl didn’t go insane.
The exams themselves were… interesting. There was quite the commotion during the introduction ceremony when a tall boy with glasses called out the staff for an apparent mistake on the informational pamphlet as well as scolded a timid looking boy for his incessant mumbling. Present Mic wasted no time in explaining that the supposed ‘mistake’ was actually far from it, and the tall boy apologized and sat back down.
The written exam was easy enough, certainly nothing particularly challenging to Nadoka at least, and the practical proved to be only slightly more difficult. It was a relief, however, to learn that the students would be fighting robots and not each other. It set Nadoka's mind at ease a great deal.
Some people chose to pair up or work together, but when Nadoka arrived to her assigned arena and the exam began she chose to leave off on her own, targeting robots on the outskirts of the fighting and only stopping her heavy plight long enough to occasionally help people who may have needed it. That’s what it meant to be a hero after all, right? So she figured, even if she was being judged on how many robots she destroyed, saving others had to count for something.
And it seemed as though the universe for once recognized the work she’d put in— the work she’d been putting in for years, and at least attempted to pay her back by granting her third place in the exams, behind only an Eijirou Kirishima and one Katsuki Bakugou. She didn’t mind the placement, though, as long as she made it in.
And so she was handed a uniform, a couple of textbooks, a map of the school, and a pat on the head, told where to be and when to be there. In what felt like the blink of an eye, the disturbed daughter of a distracted father— a broken daughter with a hideous past— was attending the prestigious UA High School.
—
“Excuse me, are you by chance Takahashi Nadoka?” The purple-haired girl in question barely stopped herself from jumping at the tap that landed on her shoulder, and she turned away from the school posters before her to find the owner of the hand— a boy about her age, with spiky red hair, kind eyes, and a pointy grin damn near bright enough to make her squint.
“Yeah, I am—“ She pulled the edge of her blazer closer to her frame and adjusted her tie, glancing over the stranger’s shoulder momentarily and watching more UA students wander the halls looking for their classes before her heterochromatic eyes landed back on him— “who are you?”
“Woah—!” The boy didn’t seem to hear Nadoka’s question as he stared at her face, “You have two different colored eyes!”
Nadoka felt the burning heat of discomfort rise to her cheeks as she pulled at her tie. “Uh— yeah. I got the blue one from my dad, and the red one from my... my mom.”
The boy with the red hair seemed to snap from his entranced state, and suddenly he was looking in her eyes, not at them. “Sorry, I just think that’s super cool. And they’re pretty, too! My name’s Kirishima Eijirou. You’re the one who came in third on the entrance exams, aren’t you? You were in the same arena as me and helped me when I got my arm stuck under a robot. That’s how I recognized you.”
Despite her initial weariness towards the strange red-haired boy who was now called Kirishima, she found her tense form unwillingly relaxing, his friendly eyes and all around bubbly demeanor making her feel safe even if she didn’t want to. “That’s me. You’re second place, huh?”
“Yep! I don’t think I ever spoke to you during the exams other than to thank you for helping me before running off again, but as soon as I saw your name on the list I wanted to get to know you,” Kirishima’s lips pulled into a goofy grin and Nadoka’s own twitched upward back, “I hope there’s no hard feelings because I got a higher score than you.”
Nadoka smirked before she realized she had and playful sarcasm entered her voice before she could stop it. “Don’t be so cocky, Kirishima-kun; you only got three more points than I did.”
Kirishima barked out a surprisingly pleasant laugh and threw his head back, his spiky red locks bouncing slightly. “So you’re pretty and funny—“ his comment caused Nadoka to shift uncomfortably, until she realized that he had not meant it in any flirtatious way— “What class are you in?”
She smiled slightly. “1-A. Though I’m kind of struggling to get there at the moment.”
Kirishima’s smile seemed to widen more, if that was even possible, and he respectfully clapped Nadoka on the shoulder, his action gentle. “I’m in 1-A, too! Now you get to say that I’m your first friend you met in the class. What do you say we get lost trying to find it together?”
Nadoka giggled a little and nodded. “Sounds like a plan, redhot.”
Kirishima’s eyes widened a little as he took off down the hall beside the purple-haired girl, their legs falling into sync. “Damn, I’m already on nickname basis with you? Guess I’ll have to come up with one for you now.”
Nadoka glanced at him while he pursed his lips and patiently waited for him to come up with her nickname. After a few moments, he glanced back. “What’s your Quirk? I never saw you use it during the exam.”
Nadoka smiled a little, producing a small, beautiful crystal into her hand as she explained, “I have what’s called crystal manipulation. I can summon and manipulate amethyst crystals into whatever shape or size I want.”
“ Woah— “ Kirishima murmured in awe as he took the purple-red crystal, conveniently formed in the shape of a long, thin diamond, and observed it, “That’s so cool! And manly!”
“So, what’ll it be, redhot?”
There was another bout of silence as Kirishima thought even harder. Finally he snapped the fingers of his free hand together and lifted his pointer finger to the sky, as if experiencing an ‘ah-ha!’ moment.
“I’ve got it: rock candy!”
Nadoka grimaced slightly, but nevertheless she was smiling as well. “You know crystals aren’t rocks, right?”
“Yeah,” Kirishima agreed, “but have you ever eaten that really sugary rock-candy-on-a-stick stuff? They design it to look exactly like this pretty crystal. So, your nickname is now rock candy!”
Nadoka shook her head fondly at the red-haired boy beside her, now even more sure of their inevitable friendship. She looked down the hall they trekked along as Kirishima continued to rant about how good rock candy was, and was startled to see a giant sign with the characters ‘1-A’ slapped across the front, hanging from the wall a few hundred meters away. Nadoka’s hand blindly flew to her side, gently colliding with Kirishima’s face as he spluttered and scolded her, asking what she was doing.
“There’s 1-A, dummy!” She exclaimed, hitting him again and pointing to the door, “We made it on accident!”
Kirishima followed her pointed finger and his lips pulled together into an ‘o’ shape. “Oh, that’s why you hit me! Well, what are we waiting for, then? Let’s meet the rest of our classmates!” He took off without waiting for Nodoka to follow, and with another shake of her head and a slight chuckle, the rock candy broke into a slight jog to rejoin him, wanting— for her own comfort— to enter the room with someone she knew.
“Oi! Kirishima-kun, wait for me!” Nadoka called, and Kirishima slowed slightly as she bounded up to him, “There’s no way I’m going in here by myself, everyone’s gonna stare at me.”
Kirishima laughed again. “Yeah, but if we go in together than everyone’s still gonna stare at us.”
Nadoka shrugged. “‘Us’ is still better than just ‘me’. Let’s go.”
The door to class 1-A was huge, stretching from the floor to the ceiling and standing wider than both Kirishima and Nadoka side-by-side. Both red-haired boy and purple-haired girl found their necks craning to look up at the top. “Woah. Do you think we have anyone this big in our class?”
“If we do, I hope they sit in the back.”
Much to the surprise of Nadoka and her new redhot friend, the teacher was missing from the room when they walked in, despite how long it had taken them to find it. However, most of the other students had made it in, mingling in small groups or lounging at their desks. Nadoka caught sight of the boy with deep green hair from the exams, his nose buried in a beaten up notebook as he mumbled to himself, a brunette girl with short bangs demonstrating her Quirk to the same tall boy with square glasses by making a pencil float, and an attractive boy with spiky sandy blond hair, similar to Kirishima’s, leaning back in his chair with his feet slung casually on the desk in front of him, head propped up by his hands and eyes closed as he chewed a piece of gum pointedly.
“Looks like a rather interesting bunch,” Nadoka commented quietly, accidentally making eye contact with a boy in the back as her gaze swept over the crowd. Nadoka nearly did a double take when she realized that not only was his hair duel-colored, but his eyes were, too. She reached out and blindly slapped Kirishima’s arm, “Look, Kirishima-kun! There’s another student with heterochromatic eyes!”
Kirishima followed her gaze and soon the duel-haired boy’s eyes were flitting between the two of them almost defensively, and Nadoka realized they had been staring for far too long, quickly looking for someone else to look at. Her gaze drifted to the front, where a seating chart had been posted on the board. Her eyes scanned it for her name as well as Eijirou’s, and she happily discovered that he sat right next to her near the front.
Kirishima nudged Nadoka with his elbow. “You’ll definitely have to talk with your twin in the back, but I think first we should introduce ourselves to the blond over there who’s been staring us down since we walked in.”
Nadoka looked around for the blond in question until finally her eyes met the fiery red orbs of the culprit, glaring back at her with an almost scary sort of intensity. As soon as she made eye contact, however, he conveniently looked away, blowing a bubble with his gum and popping it loudly. He closed his eyes again and Nadoka shook her head slightly. “He looks scary,” She said apprehensively.
“Oh come on,” Kirishima grabbed Nadoka’s wrist and dragged her forward, “if I’m not mistaken, that boy there is our first place winner for the exams, Bakugou Katsuki.”
Curiosity etched itself across Nadoka’s face as she stumbled along behind Kirishima, trying to regain her footing enough to walk alongside him. This boy won first place? He doesn’t look all that out of the ordinary. Wonder what his Quirk is.
Kirishima planted himself in front of the blond’s desk, pulling Nadoka to stand beside him. “Hello there! You’re Bakugou, right? I’m Kirishima Eij—“
“Did I ask?”
The raspy bark was so quick Nadoka wondered if it had even come from the blond boy before her. He didn’t move, nor did his eyes open, but his eyebrows were furrowed, seemingly in annoyance.
Kirishima, flustered by his interruption, struggled to stutter out a response. “I— uh, what?”
“I said,” The boy spoke again, a hard edge to his deep, gravelly voice, “Did I ask what your damn name was?”
Kirishima seemed shocked by the blatant rudeness that tainted the spiky-haired boy’s voice, but Nadoka just found herself angered by it, and her brows stitched themselves together. Where does this guy get off with acting like an asshole? We’re just trying to be friendly.
A grunt of surprise emanated from the blond boy as Nadoka shoved his boot-clad feet off the desk in front of him, his eyes opening as he sat up and landing on Nadoka, burning with anger. “We were just trying to introduce ourselves, mister , there’s no need for you to act like such an ass. And anyway, if you didn’t want to know who we were you shouldn’t have been staring like a little creeper! Now get your feet down, that’s Kirishima’s desk.”
“What the hell did you just say to me?” Bakugou’s voice was just short of a yell as he suddenly stood up, towering an inch or so taller than Nadoka. Nadoka vaguely heard a small whimper come from her left and her eyes flicked over to land on the boy with green hair— sitting in the desk behind Bakugou’s— his attention drawn by the sounds of commotion. His gaze was locked on the blond boy and filled with unadulterated fear. It didn’t take a genius to guess that he and the blond boy were already familiar with one another. Nadoka’s gaze returned to Bakugou as he continued speaking, “What’s your name, you damn idiot?”
Nadoka scoffed bitterly, almost laughing. “Oh, now you want to know? I feel like you should ask Kirishima-kun, since he was going to tell you, but you so rudely interrupted him.”
“I didn’t ask Kirishima ,” He snapped, sneering the red-haired boy’s name as he stepped closer to Nadoka, eyes narrowed threateningly, “I asked you . Name, shitty extra.”
But Nadoka wasn’t phased by his ‘I’m-better-than-you’ demeanor, and puffed her chest confidently. If she was gonna get kicked out on her first day, you could bet your bottom dollar it was because she was sticking up for herself to some loud mouth with his head up his ass. “My name is Takahashi Nadoka, thank you. I got third place in the entrance exams and Kirishima-kun got second. You’re Bakugou Katsuki, right?” The boy didn’t say anything, his gaze flicking between Nadoka and Kirishima. Nadoka gave an exasperated sigh and rolled her eyes, “Look, hedgehog head. I don’t care if you got first place in the entrance exams. Hell, I don’t give a damn if you single-handedly took out all of those robots yourself! That doesn’t give you the right to treat anyone in this class like we are less than you. We’re all here for the same reason and we’re just trying to make friends. I’d suggest you try it out, otherwise it’s gonna be a long three years for you and your gremlin ass.”
Bakugou didn’t respond for a long time, and Nadoka found herself in an awkward stare-off with the sandy blond boy before his gaze slowly traveled down to land on Kirishima’s hand, still encasing Nadoka’s wrist. In the face of their startling confrontation with Bakugou Katsuki and his overwhelming loudness, Kirishima’s attention was captured and he kinda forgot to let go of his new friend. “Third and second placers, hm? You two dating or something?”
Of all the things Nadoka might’ve expected him to respond with, that wasn’t it. In fact, she would’ve been less surprised if he would have punched her in the face right then and there. She and Kirishima exchanged a bewildered glance and Kirishima finally found a mind enough to let go of Nadoka. “N-No, we literally met like, ten minutes ago.”
Bakugou paused a moment more, considering this, and Nadoka failed to notice his eyes traveling up and down her frame, just once, taking her image in. He took in her heterochromatic eyes, the splash of light freckles beneath each eye, the small scar across her left jawline, the way she held herself confidently, even under his intense glare, all of it. And with a scowl he internally admitted that wow, she’s kinda pretty. Then, with a small ‘hmph’, he plopped back down in his seat, opening a notebook as if their entire confrontation had never happened.
“Wh— That’s it? That’s all you have to say? You’re not going to apologize to Kirishima-kun?” Nadoka stuttered, and Kirishima gave her a fond glance, appreciating the way she fought for him even having just met him recently. Bakugou huffed out a laugh, his red eyes never leaving Nadoka’s heterochromatic ones.
“I don’t have to apologize to that shittyhead. And I don’t have to apologize to you either, purple-hair. ” He snipped, and it became clear to Nadoka that she wasn’t going to be able to argue him otherwise.
Huffing out another sigh, she turned to Kirishima, patting his sleeve softly. “If you want, I can trade spots with you so you don’t have to sit in front of him.”
Kirishima chuckled a little, ruffling Nadoka’s hair. She grumbled a bit, trying to fix the waterfall braid he had unintentionally messed up, but she didn’t really mind if it was a tad untidy. “You’re too kind, Takahashi-san. I think I can hold my own against our new teddy bear friend—“ He leaned out of earshot of Bakugou with a grin and a friendly wink— “I can already tell the three of us are going to be inseparable.”
Nadoka giggled at his sarcasm and nodded her acquiescence, taking her seat to the right of Kirishima. Behind her sat the boy with an unkempt lawn on his head, though that wasn’t his desk, he was just for the moment occupying it. On her free side sat Square Glasses Man, and in front of her sat Pencil Gravity Girl. Other students littered into the room as Pencil Gravity Girl turned to face the girl with Nadoka.
“Hey, that was pretty brave of you to talk to Bakugou like that!” Pencil Gravity Girl said, and Nadoka found an odd sense of comfort in her large eyes and rosy cheeks, “Most people say he’s super scary. I’m Uraraka, by the way.”
Nadoka smiled a little. “Nice to meet you, Uraraka-san. I’m Takahashi Nadoka. Your Quirk is anti-gravity, right? I saw you lifting that pencil earlier. It’s really cool.”
Uraraka’s cheeks dusted themselves a slightly darker shade of pink, and it was in that moment that Nadoka vowed to protect this cinnamon roll of a girl with everything she had. Her and Kirishima. “Thanks, Takahashi-san! What’s your Quirk?”
Nadoka quickly produced another crystal, similar to the one Kirishima had tucked away in his backpack, and held it out to her. Unbeknownst to Nadoka, another pair of eyes behind her, burning a beautiful vermillion color, watched with quiet curiosity as she demonstrated her Quirk. “I can produce these amethyst crystals from my hands. If I produce too many, though, my joints and limbs start to stiffen up, as if my body were turning to crystal, and if it gets bad enough, crystals will start growing out of my skin.”
Uraraka’s eyes widened slightly, a childlike wonder and fear entering her voice. “Woah, that sounds kind of terrifying! If I overuse my Quirk, I just throw up!”
Nadoka couldn’t help but chuckle at her bluntness as she glanced at Square Glasses Man, who’d been curiously drawn into the conversation by the mention of vomit. His hands made silly chopping motions through the air as he scolded Uraraka. “What’s this talk of ‘throw up’? Such grotesque things shouldn’t be discussed by honorable UA students!”
“Oh, don’t worry, Iida-kun, I was just telling Takahashi-san what happens if I use my Quirk too much.” Uraraka explained cheerfully, gesturing to Nadoka, who smiled.
“Ah, then I suppose it is alright—“ Iida turned his attention to Nadoka, holding out his hand— “ Iida Takahashi, at your service.”
Nadoka accepted the hand and shook it respectfully as Iida pushed up his glasses, the lens flashing in the light as they shifted. “Takahashi Nadoka, pleasure. What’s your Quirk, if you don’t mind my asking?”
Iida gave a tight-lipped smile, but despite its awkwardness Nadoka could tell it was genuine. She quickly discerned that this boy with navy blue hair was a little if not a lot socially awkward. “Not at all! My Quirk revolves around the engines in my calves—“ as soon as he described his calves, Nadoka couldn’t help but to lean over the edge of her desk to look down at them, and Iida chuckled a little at her curiosity— “They allow me to move at speeds much faster than those of the average person, and that provides many aids in combat.”
“Wow! That’s very cool, Iida-kun—“
Nadoka’s response was interrupted by a shrill scream echoing from the front of the room, and instinctively her comrades and she leapt to their feet, a long crystal spear forming in her hands as Iida’s engines kicked to life and Uraraka hovered the tips of her fingers close together, ready to touch them together whenever the need may arise.
However, Nadoka and her classmates quickly relaxed again when they located the source of the scream, the boy with the unkempt lawn for hair. He stood frozen with his hand still poised on the door to the classroom, shaking wildly as he stared wide-eyed at a bright yellow… uh… lump… standing before him.
“Stop screaming,” The lump spoke coolly and monotonously, and Nadoka’s eyes landed on a piece of a fraction of a sliver of a face, the only part she could see due to the green-haired boy’s body blocking her view, “take your seat, Midoriya.”
The boy with green tresses, Midoriya, seemed to calm down slightly when he realized that the lump in question was but a person, wrapped tightly in a bright neon sleeping bag. He nodded his acquiescence and scurried to his seat as Nadoka allowed her crystal spear to dematerialize out of existence and sat down. She vaguely heard Bakugou bitterly tease Midoriya for screaming, calling him something like Deku, but the attention-capturing appearance of what was apparently her teacher kept her from turning around to defend the boy.
The lump shuffled his way to the front of the class as the few students who hadn’t happened to be sitting quickly made their way to their seats. She learned that behind her sat a boy with very neon yellow hair, introducing himself to her as Kaminari just before the lump unzipped itself and stepped out of the sleeping bag to reveal a very ragged looking man with long locks of brownish-black hair and bloodshot eyes, a strange-looking scarf wrapped about his throat.
“Welcome to UA High School. I am your homeroom teacher, Mr. Aizawa.” The man introduced himself, and Nadoka barely had time to recognize him as the pro hero Erasur Head before Midoriya had cried out his name in childish excitement, giving a few loud exclamations of wonder and appraisal at his heroism. Midoriya didn’t seem to realize he had spoken aloud until Bakugou snapped at him to shut up, leaving Midoriya to sink down as far as he could into his seat with burning red cheeks.
This class was definitely going to be interesting, to say the least.
—
“Hey, Midoriya-kun! Wait up!” Nadoka tripped over her untied shoelace, stumbling a little before regaining her balance as she jogged to catch up with the green-haired boy pacing down the hall a ways ahead of her. Midoriya threw a look over his shoulder as he adjusted the sleeves of his gym uniform, slowing when he realized who was calling him and giving her time to catch up, “I never got your full name.”
“Oh!” He said, his voice delightfully pleasant, and suddenly Nadoka’s list of ‘precious-bean-students-I-must-protect’ grew from two students to three, Midoriya’s name popping up in bright green letters beneath Uraraka and Kirishima’s, “My name’s Midoriya Izuku. Most people call me Deku, though. What about you?”
Nadoka fell into step beside Deku as they followed the rest of class 1-A and Mr. Aizawa outside. “I’m Takahashi Nadoka. Why do people call you Deku? Isn’t that a little… mean, given what that means?”
Midoriya smiled and shrugged sheepishly. “Technically yeah, but Kacchan’s been calling me that ever since we were kids, and I guess I’ve grown not to mind the name so much.”
“Well, I think I’ll stick to calling you Midoriya-kun, new friend.” Nadoka answered cheerfully.
Midoriya blushed and glanced down, tilting his head to the side and pointing to a hint of dark coloring protruding from Nadoka’s sleeve, just barely visible on the back of her wrist. “Do you have a tattoo?”
Confusion washed over Nadoka’s face as she followed his pointed finger, but it was quickly replaced by a thin layer of embarrassment when her eyes fell upon the markings. She smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of her neck with her left hand. “Uh, not exactly. I have a really bad habit of doodling on my arms whenever I’m not paying attention or need to calm myself down. It’s usually just flowers or little kawaii things like that, or sometimes I’ll do mandalas that end up spanning the length of my arm. I’ve started trying to break the habit, since it’s not very professional to show up wearing a bunch of silly doodles, but I’ve been doing it since I was little.”
Nadoka failed to mention how drawing on her arms brought her a sense of comfort and safety, or how the feeling of a slightly cold marker tip against her wrist helped to ground her when she was moments from falling apart. She also failed to mention that she first began doing it as a last ditch effort to avoid doing much more painful things to her wrists.
“Can I see them? I’m sure they’re not silly at all.” Midoriya asked almost instantly, before suddenly jumping and scratching the back of his head, his face red, “Gah! I-I mean, only if you— you know, want to s-show me, of course. I-I wouldn’t want to step over my bounds, i-if it’s, uh, private—“
Nadoka placed her left hand on the jittering boy’s arm, offering him a calming smile. “Midoriya-kun! It’s alright, I don’t mind you seeing them. Though, they aren’t necessarily what I would call breathtaking.”
Nadoka rolled up her left sleeve and showed Midoriya the collections of cute little succulents, drawn expertly in thin black pen, as well as a note written in words nearly too small to read: I need to buy milk.
Midoriya awed over the tiny, oddly aesthetic plants, giggling a little at the note. Without realizing he had done it, he let his hands grasp her arm with a feather-light touch and twist it this way and that. He traced his index finger over a tiny cactus in a pot, his eyes glimmering. “Oh, wow! These are so beautiful, Takahashi-san! They aren’t doodles at all!”
Nadoka gave a small giggle at the airy touches, and he seemed to realize what he was doing. With a yelp, he dropped her arm and his face burned red as he mumbled out a breathy apology. “It’s alright, Midoriya-kun, I know you meant no offense. I’m glad you like them, I guess to me they’re just kind of silly.”
“Oh, no!” Midoriya said, shaking his head. His messy green curls bounced atop his head and Nadoka found them strangely endearing, befitting of his character, “I like them.”
They were quiet a moment as they followed the class, until Nadoka thought of something and spoke. “Hey, I hope you don’t mind me asking, but I saw the way you stared at that Bakugou guy when we were arguing earlier. You definitely seemed like you already knew him, and to be blunt, you looked terrified. Why are you so scared of him? I mean we’ve already learned that he’s plenty loud and rude, but it seems like his bark is a lot worse than his bite.”
Izuku’s face dusted pink and he looked at the ground, scuffing his shoes through the dirt. “I’m… I’m not scared of him. Kacchan and I have been friends since we were little.”
Nadoka’s face twisted into a look of sympathy. “Oh, so he’s Kacchan. Look, no offense, Midoriya-kun, but someone who’s been friends with you since you were little wouldn’t treat you the way he does. He speaks to you like you’re garbage. It doesn’t seem very nice to me.”
Midoriya found himself grinning, eyes squinty as he scratched the back of his head. “You don’t have to worry about me, Takahashi-san; Kacchan has always been somewhat, er, — mean .”
“I’m what now?” Nadoka watched Midoriya’s soul nearly leave his body as Bakugou’s rough, screaming voice filled her ears. Heads turned as Bakugou dashed forward and snatched Midoriya up by the front of his shirt, his snarling face inches from Deku’s as the latter whimpered softly, “Say that to my face, you damn nerd! I’ll kill—“
Something cold and sharp was suddenly touching Bakugou’s neck and he froze. His eyes slowly drifted to the source of the something and landed on Nadoka, her brows furrowed calmly but dangerously as she held a small crystal dagger to Bakugou’s skin, the geode sparkling beautifully and dangerously in the sunlight. She had no intention of actually harming the blond with the weapon, but a little intimidation never harmed anyone, did it?
“It may be in your best interest to release my lawnhead, assface.”
Bakugou growled softly, Deku suddenly forgotten, and let go of Nadoka’s friend. She lowered her crystal and it disappeared from her hand as Bakugou, for the second time that day, found himself towering dangerously close to her, anger and fascination fighting for dominance in his mind. She didn’t shy away from his gaze or listen immediately when he yelled at her to do something, and this both infuriated and intoxicated him. “You’re trying to start a fight you can’t win, stupidhead.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure of yourself, blondie.”
“Takahashi! Bakugou! That’s enough.” Both hotheads’ gazes snapped from each other to Mr. Aizawa, who glared at them, annoyed, from the front of the crowd.
“Sorry, Mr. Aizawa.” Nadoka was quick to murmur an apology, stepping away from Bakugou to stand beside Midoriya, who gave her a grateful nudge when the former mentioned wasn’t looking, however Bakugou simply growled and looked down.
“Bakugou. Come to the front.” Bakugou obeyed his teacher’s order, forcefully bumping shoulders and arms as he shoved his way through the crowd to the front. Behind him, Midoriya leaned over to mumble a quiet ‘thank you’ in Nadoka’s ear, and she grinned widely at her newfound friend, tossing an arm loosely over his shoulders.
Nadoka and her classmates watched with interest as Bakugou joined Aizawa up front, and in turn raised his eyebrows in confusion as Aizawa handed him a simple baseball. “How far was your toss back in middle school?”
“67 meters.”
How sad, Nadoka thought, snorting to herself, Mine was seventy-three.
“Throw the ball as far as you can,” Aizawa instructed, “But this time, don’t be afraid to use your Quirk to help you. Anything goes as long as you stay in the circle.”
Bakugou suddenly smirked an evil sort of smirk, snatching the baseball and walking forward, stopping within a white circle in the dirt and assuming a proper stance. Nadoka had no idea what his Quirk was, but she could only pray for the sake of his own dignity it was something that measured up to the obnoxious amount of cocky confidence he had. He reared his arm and torso back before releasing a blood-curdling yell, as though he were fighting the strongest villain on Earth, not throwing a ball, and swinging his arm.
And measure up, it did. The explosion that boomed from the palm of his hand surprised Nadoka and likely many students around her. She watched a cloud of sparks and smoke leave his hand and the ball soar away, barely able to track it as it disappeared into the sky. And, she had to admit, it was certainly impressive. Very befitting of the explosive character he’d exhibited so far.
Bakugou let out a noise of triumph, turning and staring at the class expectantly, as though he were waiting for someone to clap. When no one did, his wide grin dropped and the angered look he so generously wore returned. “What? You idiots! That ball flew over seven-hundred meters and all you can do is stare?”
A few scattered claps drifted around the crowd and this seemed to satisfy Bakugou as he stepped away. Midoriya was then called forward, and Nadoka watched in utter shock as the precious lawnhead made to throw the ball only for it to travel no more than forty or so meters. He and Aizawa exchanged a few words and he tried again, only this time he broke his finger throwing the ball, and with a massive boom and a rush of air, the ball went soaring through the sky. He obviously liked the result he received, however, as his ball fell just further than Bakugou’s and Midoriya curled his busted fingers into a determined fist, eyeing his teacher. Nadoka could tell there was something deeper in their interaction as he and Aizawa stared at each other for a moment.
Yeah. A very interesting class, indeed.
—
“Takahashi-san! Over here!” Nadoka paused in her steady scan of the room, her eyes landing on the spiky red hair she’d been looking for as Kirishima gave her a wave, gesturing for her to come forward, “I saved you a spot!”
Nadoka grinned, adjusting her lunch in her hand as she padded over and sat in the empty seat between Kirishima and Midoriya. On Midoriya’s opposite side sat Uraraka, who gave her a small smile before continuing to chat with Yaoyorozu. Across from Midoriya sat Iida, munching quietly on his food as he looked over a set of notes in his lap. Bakugou sat silently across from Kirishima, his eyes locking on Nadoka as soon as she sat down, but Nadoka’s attention was more focused on the boy with the duel-colored hair, stationed between Iida and Bakugou, very invested in his noodles.
“Excuse me?” She started softly after murmuring a quick greeting to her friends. The boy across from her looked up slightly, but didn’t stop eating, “I don’t think I ever properly introduced myself after accidentally staring at you earlier. I’m Takahashi Nadoka, I was looking ‘cause I noticed that you and I both have heterochromatic eyes.”
The boy set his bowl down, wiping at his lips slightly. When he spoke, his voice was mellow and smooth, “I know. You’ve got quite an impressive Quirk, Miss Takahashi. My name is Todoroki Shouto.”
Nadoka blushed slightly and quickly hid her cheeks from view by lowering her head to sip from a juice carton. “Thank you, and please, the formalities aren’t necessary.”
He stared at her a moment, then blinked. “Very well, Miss Takahashi. Could I perhaps see one of those gorgeous crystals you make?” He asked as he took another bite of his noodles.
Nadoka nodded, but she never got the chance to put her food down and make one before Kirishima had pulled his from out of his backpack and slid it across the table to Todoroki. “Here, she made this one for me this morning.”
Nadoka looked surprised as she bit into a banana. “You kept that, redhot?”
He glanced at her, smiling sheepishly. “Uh— yeah. I have a collection of geodes in my room, I was gonna add this to it cause’ I think it’s pretty. Is that okay?”
Nadoka found her cheeks warming with fondness, and she nudged her friend with her shoulder as she chuckled. Across from her, Todoroki was studying the crystal as though it were the most interesting thing he’d ever seen. “Of course it is, Kiri-kun. Now you have something to always remind you of me.”
Kirishima laughed, but it was interrupted by a gravelly voice that was already too familiar to Nadoka. “That’s kinda creepy, shittyhead. Didn’t know you were the stalker type that keeps people’s stuff in their room.”
Nadoka instantly glared at the culprit, taking an almost aggressive bite of her food. “Don’t call him that, Bakugou—“ Nadoka didn’t exactly feel the blond deserved any honorifics— “And who are you calling creepy, what with the way you stared at us when we came in this morning?”
“Hmph—“ Bakugou huffed, clearly bluffing as his tried to nonchalantly eat his food— “I was looking at you nerds because I knew the two of you got second and third place, and I wanted to see if I had any notable competition to pay attention to. But it quickly became obvious that this loser here won’t be a problem for me.” He gestured vaguely at Kirishima, but the red-haired boy seemed more amused than offended.
“What about me?” Nadoka questioned, raising an eyebrow with a half-smirk, “Am I what you would call ‘notable competition’?”
Bakugou watched her for a moment and she could practically see him churning his brain for his answer before he grunted angrily. “Shut up, of course not. I have no competition— not any that I have to worry about, anyway.”
“You seemed to have forgotten that I came right behind you in the Quirk apprehension test this morning.” For an odd reason she couldn’t exactly discerned, biting at him was becoming less and less aggravating and more and more amusing as time went on, mostly because she was learning quickly that much of his attitude seemed like a front more than anything else, “You may want to be careful. Not worrying about your competition will make it plenty easy for me to sneak up and surpass you while you’re not looking.”
Bakugou scoffed like the very thought of something so offending was hilarious. “Keep dreaming, rocky.”
“Crystals aren’t rocks, moron.”
“Do I look like I give a shit what they are? You make shit that looks like rocks, so you’re rocky.”
Rocky, huh? Why am I oddly unbothered by the nickname? Nadoka tore into a piece of fruit leather with a chuckle. “I guess rocky is better than dumbass, idiot, and all the other mean names you call everybody else. And since it isn’t technically a rude name, I’ll take it to mean that I’m already your favorite, right?”
She wriggled her eyebrows at him with a playful grin and he clicked his tongue, his ears practically glowing. “Tch. Don’t fucking kid yourself. You’re just as infuriating as the rest of these damn extras.”
Nadoka didn’t really buy it, but chose not to press the hothead anymore. It was like arguing with a brick wall, and she was smart enough not to poke the bear more than she needed to. She waved her hand dismissively while turning her body back toward Todoroki and Kirishima. “Sure, yeah, of course. I can already tell you and I are gonna be besties.”
He was glad she wasn’t looking at him anymore, thus missing the borderline disappointed look that flashed across Bakugou’s face before he shut his mouth and sulked into his food. Besties. What a fucking ditz. Like I have time to argue with so-called friends.
Nadoka’s crystal that she’d made had found itself in the center of the table, and she watched in amusement as Todoroki and Kirishima argued over who got to keep it for a minute or two before deciding to interrupt them. “Hey, guys? You know I can just make another crystal, right? Both of you can have one.”
“Really?” Both boys exclaimed in unison.
Nadoka chuckled, producing another crystal identical to the one she’d first made and handing it off to Todoroki as Kirishima snatched his up and tucked it safely in his backpack. “Really. I can make as many as I want.”
However, Nadoka’s Quirk was not without its setbacks. Using it too much for too long often made her very tired. Additionally, if Nadoka used her Quirk over an extended period of time or tried to summon a crystal of a large scale, her joints and muscles would stiffen. At first her parents thought this was simply cramps or muscle fatigue, but during a visit to the doctor’s office, she quickly found out that this stiffness she experienced was actually her very body turning to crystal. The effects often reversed themselves and she always slowly regained the movement in her limbs, but that only came when she rested her body and slept.
During one of the training sessions Nadoka had with her mother, when Nadoka was but an eight year old girl with pigtails and freckled cheeks, Akiko Takahashi has gotten caught up in the exhilaration of sparring. She didn’t recognize that her daughter’s movements had gotten slower; that her limbs did not bend as easily. Her daughter did not wish to disappoint her mother, and therefore did not say anything of the concrete feeling that sparked first in her joints and began to spread.
That girl would’ve turned to stone before she told her mother she was in pain. Her mother didn’t notice how slow her daughter had gotten until she saw a floret of sharp crystals spring from the surface of Nadoka’s skin, protruding from the back of her hand like her skin was the wall of a cave and she was growing them. Akiko called off the fight and her daughter fell to the ground, curling into a tight ball and subsequently becoming unable to open herself back up again.
Nadoka stayed stuck in that position for two days before her limbs softened and she could uncurl herself again. From then on Akiko was careful not to push her too hard.
There were moments after that day when Nadoka was scared to use her Quirk. Days where she would wake up to a slightly stiff back— due only to a harmlessly uncomfortable mattress on her bed— and she would have a panic attack, wondering if her stiffness was her body turning permanently to stone. Days where she would get a cramp in her calf, the result of forgetting to drink enough water, and she would wonder if she could knock on her calf and hear it thud softly.
There were plenty of times where fear tried to stop her from using her Quirk, but she had always managed to overcome this fear when it counted.
“Takahashi-san? Hello? Takahashi!” The girl in question snapped out of her thoughts and glanced at Kirishima, currently waving his hand in front of her face.
“Huh?”
Kirishima laughed pleasantly, nudging her with a slightly teasing tone to his voice. “What I was saying, daydreamer, was that I convinced Bakugou to come with me to go see a movie tonight, and I wanted to see if you wanted to go.”
Nadoka gave an apologetic smile. “As much as I would love to listen to Bakugou insult me for two hours—“ Bakugou growled threateningly but Nadoka didn’t care— “I promised my dad I’d go with him to the market today to get a new frien— uh, a new houseplant. My dad really likes them.”
Thankfully, no one noticed Nadoka’s verbal slip-up, and Kirishima pouted softly, wrapping his arm around Nadoka’s neck and pressing the sides of their heads together with a whiny groan. “Can’t your dad go by himself?”
Nadoka laughed and playfully pushed Kirishima away, quickly coming up with a lie and hoping her cheeks didn’t get too red. “I have to get a few things, too. And my dad gets his feelings hurt when I bail on him.
Kirishima gave a long, dramatic sigh and let go of her, both of them failing to notice Bakugou’s eyes like daggers on their every move. “Alright, I guess you’re a good daughter.”
“Sorry, redhot—“ Nadoka tore off a piece of her Toblerone bar and held it out to him, giving the best puppy dog eyes she could manage— “Another time?”
Kirishima scratched his chin, feigning indecisiveness, before snatching up the chocolate and popping into his mouth. “Deal.”
“Hey, I want a piece.” Todoroki piped in, and Takahashi smiled kindly before handing him one. Midoriya then turned to ask for one, as well as Uraraka and Iida. Nadoka gladly shared the candy, her heart warming at the smiles that graced their faces upon receiving it. She even shifted and locked eyes with the fiery blond-haired boy in front of her.
Bakugou watched her hesitate a moment, looking down at the candy in her hands, before she shrugged and held a piece out to him. “We got off on the wrong foot, Mr. Explosion Man. Despite your—“ She noticed his eyes narrow and chose her words carefully— “uh… demeanor , I hope we can be friends, and maybe still go to that movie together sometimes.”
Friends. Fucking ridiculous. She’s not gonna give this shit up easily, is she? Bakugou stared at her for so long her arm started to get tired, and she was about to give up and just eat the melting chocolate when he grabbed it from her hand briskly and shoved it into his mouth, his voice low. “Whatever. Just call me Bakugou.”
His attention left her and she stared down at her lunch, the smallest of smiles creeping across her lips as conversations continued around her. The action replayed in her head a few times. Why am I thinking about this so much? It’s just candy. Who could say no to candy? She allowed herself a small chuckle with a shake of her head, looking up and tuning into Kirishima and Todoroki’s conversation once more.
—
The rest of Nadoka’s classes were mediocre in comparison to the hero course. She had a few students of class 1-A in her other courses; she delightfully walked into math to see Kirishima and Bakugou sitting together near the back, and found herself in a group for an English project with Iida, Uraraka, and Midoriya, but it was still no hero course.
Just one day of hero training and regular student work felt like a waste of time to her, but she knew that basic education was just as important as hero training. After all, no one wanted a dumb hero out wandering the streets, unable to calculate basic math or understand any sentence for than six words long.
And in a way, she enjoyed school. She liked the triumphant feeling of defeating a challenging algebra problem or the prideful tug on the heartstrings that came with an expertly written essay. There was something about knowing that she was intelligent and knowing— if nothing else— that she had enough of a brain to get her through college and into a good job, lest her dreams of becoming a pro hero turn out to simply be dreams. It helped to slightly ease her mind when she contemplated her future. The issue of being a pro hero was a big one; the world was large but not infinite, and her familial ties sometimes made her wonder if she had enough to make it on her own, but she was nothing if not a fighter, and she promised herself that she would become a pro hero, if not for her than for her father.
Nevertheless, Nadoka’s mind was more often than not stuck on hero training, her hands barely having a mind to take notes and doodle on the corners of her paper as she thought of all her actions during training and how she could better them.
The train ride home suddenly became a much louder trip than the train ride to school, as a few of her new friends recognized that they rode the same train and therefore felt inclined to sit with her and chat. It amazed her how much her daily routine had changed in just the span of a few hours, all because the strangers on the train weren’t so strange anymore.
Where she had previously listened to music and quietly read a book, she was now thumb-wrestling with Midoriya and arguing the physics of Captain America’s shield with Iida. Where she had previously stared out the window and watched people pass by, she was now staring at Bakugou and watching him scowl down at his phone, trying her hardest to worm her way through the confusing layers of his character.
Nadoka was the last one of her friends to leave the train, Bakugou being the first, followed by Iida, Uraraka, and finally Midoriya. Nadoka was surprised to discover that she was almost disappointed to see them go, and when Midoriya pulled her into a tight hug as he prepared to step off the train, her cheeks dusted pink and warm, and they didn’t return to their natural color until she had walked the six blocks from the train station and retrieved the paper off her front doorstep.
“Papa? I’m home! Are you ready to go to the market?” Nadoka stepped through the door, shutting it with her foot the way she did every single day. She wriggled one arm out of her backpack straps and slung it haphazardly onto the hooks beside the door as her eyes scanned the paper for coupons or sale ads. As unusual as it was for a teen, Nadoka found great content in locating a good sale going on at the market or getting a vicious deal thanks to an acquired collection of coupons.
The Takahashi household was quaint. The front door opened into a short hallway, where Nadoka’s school shoes and workout shoes, as well as her father’s slippers, often sat. A shelf with hooks to the left of the doorway held various junk such as loose change, Nadoka’s backpack, a few scarves, and Haru’s dusty, unused car keys. Nadoka couldn’t remember the last time she had ridden in her father’s car.
The hallway opened up into a fairly large, plenty spacious living room, with a white couch and matching set of lounging chairs. A dark wooden coffee table provided color contrast, as well as dark wooden floors, polished to perfection. A fairly large TV sat upon a stand near the far wall before the furniture. The walls were a generic white, but were decorated with enough shelves full of succulents and paintings and photos of Nadoka and her father that the house didn’t feel bland.
Across the room from the front door, a large marble-top island as well as a switch from hardwood to clean tile floors separated the living room from the kitchen, the latter of which sported a soothing gray color palette. The cabinets were a dark gray, the countertops a speckled, ashy marble, and a few accents of wood dotted the room, such as a rack of beautiful wooden cutting boards and a few wooden hanging pots for her father’s plants. The kitchen counters, although large, were rather cramped, most of the space closest to the back of the room filled with all kinds of plants.
Nadoka enjoyed cooking. Before the incident, Nadoka found no greater joy than tying a much-too large apron around her toddler neck and cheering as her father scooped her up into his arms and taught her the intricate art of icing or the mastery of slicing cheese. The first successful thing she’d ever made were pancakes, and from then on she was hooked. Cooking was something that relieved her stress, and actions as simple as cutting carrots while listening to the soft bubbles of a boiling pot of water often helped clear her mind and calm her down after a long day.
That was the one thing she never had any issue doing for her father. Often times Nadoka would complain under her breath about her father’s incapabilities as she cleaned or did laundry, but cooking never brought with it those same grievances.
“Oh, we’re going to the market today?” A soft murmur passed through the air as Nadoka closed her newspaper and rolled it up, hooking it under her arm as she grabbed an apple from a fruit bowl on the island and took a bite, rolling her eyes.
“Yes, Papa. I told you that this morning—“ On the right wall of the kitchen stood a backdoor leading to a small patio, the space of which was mostly taken up by even more plants, and Nadoka noticed— grumbling about how AC bills weren’t cheap— that it stood slightly ajar. Her father frequently forgot to close the door as he made his trips from outside to in— “Let me go get out of my uniform and I’ll help you change at least your shirt.”
Nadoka left the kitchen, after shutting the patio door, and padded up the spiral stairs that sat tucked in the corner of the living room, the top greeting her with another, longer hallway. Her bedroom, her parent’s room, and two bathrooms crowded the upstairs, and Nadoka picked up a sock that had managed to make its way onto the carpeted hallway floor as she entered her room, tossing it into a half-full laundry hamper and releasing her rolled newspaper to join the ever growing stack of newspapers on her desk.
Nadoka’s room was very aesthetically pleasing, and quite relaxing to the eye. Her walls were three varying shades of dark purple, while the fourth was a deep gray, brick accent wall, and her room was quite literally full of houseplants. Everything from succulents to hanging moss to cacti littered her shelves or hung from her ceilings. Her bed, overflowing with plush toys of all her favorite animals, sat extremely low to the ground in the far right corner— more of floormat than a bed— and opposite it sat a desk half-taken up by more plants. Adjacent to her bed hung a large flat screen TV, pointed down slightly to give the perfect viewing angle. Nadoka didn’t have the time to sit back and watch movies often, her life was too hectic and full of work to sit through a whole film.
Hanging plants framed the television, blending the only piece of technology perfectly into her botanical bedroom. Her father had quickly found himself with no room left to put his plants downstairs, and in a haste to amend his despair at his predicament Nadoka agreed to store some of his plants upstairs with her, promising to water and care for them as much as he did.
A bay window sat on the brick wall to the right of the tv— Nadoka’s favorite place to sit and watch the city lights at night— and a gigantic, six-foot beanbag lay in the middle of the floor. Her floor, already a simple carpet, was covered in three fluffy-white rugs that she loved to simply lay on and dig her face into, the largest taking up the empty space in the middle of her room while two smaller ones sat beside her bed and at the foot of the bay window.
On the left wall, on the closer side of the door to her bathroom, sat a tall dresser in which she stored her clothes as well as a wheeled rack where she hung clothes she couldn’t fold. On the right wall stood a window above her bed, and beside her bed sat a short, simplistic bedside table. A bookcase that nearly reached her ceiling took up most of the wall space to her right, decorated with little knickknacks and figurines that exemplified Nadoka’ character and interests, as well as more houseplants. The entirety of the room sported beautiful string lights, strung across the walls close to the ceiling, the bulbs shaped like crystals and twinkling multiple different colors. Nadoka’s bed also had its own set of soft string lights, and the wall above her desk was splayed not only with a zig-zag pattern of lights but a bundle of newspaper clippings, article segments, and blurry photos of urban legends, all plastered across one another on the wall. Nadoka loved urban legends, but she and her father were the only ones who knew this fact.
Her desk was cluttered with schoolwork and half-finished art pieces she either forgot about or decided she didn’t like. Finally, on the wall that shared the entry door sat another bookcase, this one only about waist high, and a small chair in the corner. The short bookcase had been put in her room for two reasons: Her father’s houseplants, and to hold Sugar Loaf’s cage.
Sugar Loaf was a flying squirrel, one who consistently landed on Nadoka’s head everyday when she came home from school and beeped a hello, rubbing her cheek against the girl’s scalp and crawling all over her shoulders. Everyday Nadoka would giggle and pry her off, giving her a cheerful greeting before Sugar Loaf leaped off to resume climbing her furniture.
Nadoka found Sugar Loaf in her backyard when she was fourteen, and despite her father’s soft spoken request that she take the tiny baby to the vet, Nadoka refused, knowing that the vet would force her to give Sugar Loaf away. So she kept her, hiding her away from the world inside her room and nursing her back to health. Sugar Loaf quickly became Nadoka’s best friend and best secret, and she often jokingly wondered where she had been all her life.
Nadoka kicked off her school shoes and undid her tie, tossing it nonchalantly on her bed and stripping from her clothes. One thing Nadoka did not like about UA was their uniforms, and due to the fact she stayed after school to speak with a teacher, she did not have time to change back into her regular clothes, lest she risk missing her train ride home.
Despite the influx of warm, deep, dark colors that littered Nadoka’s room, from her purple walls to cyan blue bedsheets and maroon, crimson, and dark violet pillows, Nadoka’s sense of public fashion sported a different outlook. She stuck to a strict palette of black, white, and grey, and allowed herself only a small splash of red or blue to match one of her eyes when she went out.
However, behind closed doors, in the safety of her home, colors became Nadoka’s best friends.
Nadoka slipped into a pair of snug black jeans, ripped at the knees, and haphazardly pulled a white T-shirt with a red heart above the breast over her head, tucking it in. She hooked a pair of suspenders into place, the odd fabrics receiving the obligatory pull from both her thumbs before slipping and snapping back to her shoulders, coaxing from her a slight grunt of pain. The weather outside, despite the steadfast approach of fall, was still pleasantly on the verge of hot and cold, and she knew that pushing her father in a wheelchair through an outdoor farmer’s market wouldn’t be very fun if she wore thick, heavy clothes. She pinned a large red rose pin to the front of her suspenders and stuck an array of jewelry in both ears, slinging a large necklace around her neck. Combat boots were yanked over her feet and suddenly she was a cool, stylish young girl.
Sure, maybe it was a bit much, especially for just a simple trip to the farmer’s market, but Nadoka enjoyed fashion. Alongside cooking, it was one of the few things she could harmlessly indulge in, and she took full advantage of that. She additionally took pride in her ability to bargain, the majority of her closet being bought from secondhand stores for little more than it cost for a candy bar at a café.
Nadoka kissed Sugar Loaf goodbye and returned to her father, sliding down the spiral stairs with an uncommon whoop of laughter, her spirits firmly lifted by her exhilarating first day of school. She helped her father change into a cleaner shirt and sprayed him down with a simple cologne, fixing up his long hair into a ponytail and wrapping him in a blanket before wheeling him out of the kitchen and across the living room floor. She stopped for a moment, cursing herself light-heartedly as she rushed back upstairs and ripped the coupon she’d found off the day’s paper, making herself blush by almost forgetting it.
She returned downstairs and slipped the coupon into a pouch she’d sewn to the back of Haru’s wheelchair. The previously mentioned older man was quiet, eyes staring at his folded hands as he mumbled to himself about what type of friend he should bring home. Above him, Nadoka grabbed her house keys off her hook, commencing a final check to make sure had her wallet, phone, keys, and coupon.
A girl working at one million miles per minute. She was doing everything she could to keep food in her and her father’s hungry mouths; doing everything she could to train to be a pro hero; doing everything she could to prove that she was different from her family. Nadoka was a girl working at one million miles per minute, but that couldn’t stop her smile.
“Alright, Papa, let’s go!”