Chapter Text
When you came into this world, there was only sadness.
A few days after your birth, your mother passed away. At the death of your mother, the entire family became off balance.
Akiro remembers peering down at your cradle. He is dressed in the color black—a symbol of his mourning for his mother—and his eyes met with yours.
You wielded the eyes of his mother, he immediately notices.
“It should’ve been you,” he seethes through his teeth. Akiro is a boy of eleven, the oldest of all of his siblings, when his mother is taken from him. He is the only one out of his brothers who realized that it was your fault their mother had passed. “we were happy without you.”
You stare up at him with wonder.
He hates that cute quirk of your lips. He hates that wispy white hair that poked out from your little hat the maids have dressed you in. He hates that you looked so much like their mother.
“Nii-san?” the small voice of his younger brother cut him out of his thoughts. He turned to see Daichi standing at the door with a worried expression. The second oldest of them all — Daichi is eight — and he has no idea that it was your fault their mother died. “Are you coming to supper? Oto-san is asking for you.”
He glares at the newborn child.
The babe in the cradle cries and he grows to hate you more.
The birth of his only sister is full of grief.
At the tender age of five, you awaken your Quirk.
It’s the worst pain you’ve ever felt. None of your older brothers will ever forget the sight of you squirming and screaming in agony. Daichi thought that it was Akiro that was torturing you with his Quirk at one point, but the oldest brother was out of the house.
“Make it stop! Make it stop!”
Gin and Rin—the twin boys closest to your age—run over to you with worry. You shrill violently and tears stream down your chubby cheeks. You have your hands flatten against your ears tightly, for some reason they cannot comprehend.
“Shut up shut up shut up!” you wail, kicking your feet as you desperately tried to block everyone out. You feel like your head is being split open from all the voices that flood your mind.
“Someone call for father, now!” Daichi orders. Taigen, the third oldest of your brother’s, immediately runs for it. Daichi crouches to your shaking side, “What is wrong, sister?” he asks, but the question falls deaf to your ears.
”Kyo! Do something!” Rin snaps in anger. He had always been protective of you despite his endless teasing. He and Gin are only a year older than you, but they feel more connected to you than the rest of your family.
Everyone turns to look at Kyo.
His shaggy white hair falls to his shoulders and his crimson eyes widen when they all turn to look at him expectantly.
Everyone bears the eyes of their ancestors—more specifically of their father. The [Surname] bloodline remained strong as every one of the boys had eyes of crimson and pale white hair.
“S—Shit! Me? Why me?!” Kyo gawks, his thick eyebrows furrow in aggravation as he jabs a pointed finger to Rin. “You can make her calm down too! Use your Quirk!”
Rin boils. Everyone is aware that Kyo is better suited for the task. His Quirk is Empathy and he can control the emotions of others around him if he pleased. But, Kyo is only eight years old and he is possibly the least favorite in Father’s eyes. He wields a weak Quirk compared to everyone else—with the exception of you, no one knows what your Quirk is yet.
Until now.
“Father…!” Daichi breathes. They all step aside as the towering figure of their father comes to view. Daichi watches with a panicked expression as father couches to your side and places a hand on your forehead.
Father says nothing.
They lean in anxiously.
The second father touches your skin, your eyes roll to the back of your head and you fall unconscious in his arms. The room swells with deafening silence.
”Hm.” That is all father says.
Daichi stands with his back straight as a bow. He knows better than to make a mistake in front of father.
”Will she be okay, Oto-san?” Gin mumbles, nibbling on his bottom lip in worry. Father sneaks a glance to his sons. The five of them all stare at him with expressions filled with panic.
“Yes,” he answers with an unreadable gaze. He stands with your sleeping body in his arms, curling onto his chest, and his dark crimson eyes land on the fourth eldest son.
Kyo swallows thickly.
”Kyo. Meet me in my office in ten minutes.” Father orders and they all exchange a nervous glance to each other.
Kyo bows, despite being a shaking leaf under his father’s cold stare.
“Yes, Oto-san.”
At the tender age of five, you have a Quirk.
Telepathy, father calls it.
Curse, more like.
If I divide 15 by—
You groan and slam your head into your palms. There was nothing more you hated than to listen to Kyo’s stupid thoughts when he did fucking homework. Not that any time was a good time… you still hated listening to whatever he was thinking at whatever time of day.
I want a girlfriend… a tall woman with a big ass.
You roll your eyes when you hear Kyo’s disgusting thoughts. Snatching your ear buds from your desk, you plug them deep into your ears and blast your music to quieten the thoughts that intruded your mind. It hardly helps, but it’s better than nothing.
“[Name].”
You peel your eyes open only to find your oldest brother staring down at you, his sigil marking identical to yours under his right eye. He looks unimpressed as usual. His sleek and straight white hair falls slightly above his broad shoulders and his loose bangs cover his forehead. He is dressed in his classic hero gear. You wonder why he bothered coming home when he already has his entire life planned out.
“Ah… Akiro.” You mumble, pulling off your earphones, and staring up at him with a quizzical brow. He tries to hide the pain when you address him without any honorific. You know he does when you can hear his thoughts of guilt. A part of you feels bad, but then you remember the way he treated you most of your childhood. He was always an asshole, and his thoughts were yours when you received your Quirk. It was only then that you realized how hateful your brother truly was.
He blamed you for the death of your mother.
His mother.
You don’t remember her at all. You were a babe when she died, after all. You only know of her by the stories everyone tells. And… that’s not saying much.
”Father wants to see you.”
You sigh.
“Must I?”
His lips thinned into a flat line, “You know he doesn’t like waiting.”
You yawn, “I’m so tired. Does he have any idea how difficult his stupid training is?” you grumble as you stand and make your way to his office. Akiro is hot on your tail.
“It helps.” He says, shrugging his shoulders.
It’s nothing compared to becoming a hero.
You roll your eyes in annoyance, “I heard that.”
He smiles, chuckling, “I know.”
The hallways are large and beautifully decorated in a traditional Japanese style. Your geta shoes clapped against the wooden floors and your pearl white kimono swishes with each step you take. The [Surname] residence was humongous. It was a gorgeous traditional Japanese mansion of a house with flawless gardens surrounding it. Your family owned the land of a mountain and decided to perch a house in it for the sole reason of staying away from the society (despite being heroes and living in the limelight for years).
You guess father liked his privacy.
You can count the times you’ve been outside of your residence with just one hand. It’s not that father sheltered you or that he forbade it, but ever since you manifested your Quirk you hated being in public. It was torture to be surrounded by multiple people—all of their thoughts flooded your mind all at once and it was unpleasant to say the least, not to mention the massive headache you got.
The doors open.
Your eyes widen when you notice Grandfather sitting with his legs crossed beside father. They’re dressed in their comfortable jinbei. You narrow your eyes at them as father sways his hand in front of him and asks you to take a seat. You slowly descend to the tatami floors, elegantly sitting before them.
“You called for me?” you ask, your tone dangerously close to annoyed. You search for their thoughts, but you can only hear Akiro’s, who is equally perplexed as you. Not a minute later, Grandmother steps inside the room with her black kimono, her cold and faded caramel gaze falls to you. Shivers crawl down your spine when you see her blind eyes watching you intently. Planked on each side of her are your aunts—Suzuki and Kikiyo—their pale silver white hair is styled in a perfect bun and their matching red eyes are watching you closely as they all sit down before you.
You are clueless to what you have done to summon all of the heads of the family.
“Granddaughter, you have become such a fine young woman.” Grandmother comments, lightly. You bow at her compliment to show your gratitude. “Do you know why you’re here?” she asks.
”No, I do not.” You answer honestly.
She hums.
Father does not speak. He hardly ever does when it comes to Grandfather and Grandmother.
“You are fourteen, now.” She says easily, “It is my understanding that you want to become a hero someday.”
“Yes, I want to be a hero.” You quickly confirmed, but grandfather scowls at your answer. Suzuki and Kikyo look equally displeased and share a look of judgement.
Grandfather speaks.
”You have a weak Quirk.”
You frowned at his absolution. His gaze is dull and aimless. He looks disappointed. You hate the way he stares.
”We have little to no faith in you to become a hero. We have been watching you.” Grandfather spats, and his large sigil marking that went across his right eye and down his face almost glows threateningly. Of course, Grandfather had to have been gifted with the biggest mark out of everyone. To this day, you don’t really know what it means but, almost every [Surname] was born with one. All of your brothers and yourself have one that just magically appeared after developing a Quirk. “You have not been able to control your Quirk despite how long you have been training. You are too impatient and stubborn, and hardly care about the good in others. You seem unlikely to want to become a hero.”
You glare at him.
Calm down, [Name], Akiro’s scolding voice slices through your thoughts. Your nails bite through the fabric of your kimono. Your eyes darken and your lips twist into a scowl.
“Do not pretend you know me. You know nothing, Grandfather.” You seethe venom. Akiro bristles at your tone. Not even he would be foolish to disrespect Grandfather. No one dared to disrespected him.
No one except for you.
Akiro prays for you in that moment which earns him an annoyed glare from you. There is a thick tension in the air between you and grandfather.
You resemble the sun in your fury, blinding and scorching. Your gaze is flaming, it feels like you’ve set them alight with one look.
A satisfied smile stretches on father’s lips as his gaze settles on you.
“She is insolent as well!” Grandfather growls.
Father hides his smile well and his eyes turn cold just as quickly.
“Forgive my daughter, father. She is still learning what it means to be a [Surname].” Father defends. You glare at them both. I know what I am. You wish to scream. There is nothing more infuriating than being looked down upon.
“I think my sister will be a good hero, grandfather.”
Much to your surprise, it is Akiro who stands up for you. Narrowing your gaze at him suspiciously, you dive in his mind to see his ulterior motives. Shockingly, he had none. You want to be shocked, but for the past few years Akiro has been nothing but kind (in his own weird way). You hated it, and desperately clawed at his mistake when he was younger despite how much he tried to prove that he had changed.
Grandmother smiles.
You scowl.
I don’t need your help, Akiro.
Akrio’s expression is serious as he stares at grandfather. He doesn’t look at you, despite the conversation you both are having mentally.
Stop being so damn proud.
Grandmother cleared her throat, her blind eyes find yours.
“Come here, [Name].” She says and spreads her hands out for you. Suzuki’s eyes widen as everyone quietly watches you go to her and hesitantly grab onto her hands. Grandmother has the ability to see the future, and if she touched you she could see it a lot more clearly. Most of the time, she spoke in riddles and you could hardly understand her.
Grandmother’s hands are fragile, wrinkly, and cold.
She stares blankly into space. You wonder what she sees.
“It is settled.” She rips her hands away from you. “She must go.”
Grandfather seems unpleased, but he doesn’t argue.
You will go to UA and become a hero.
“If you fail—“ Suzuki begins, harshly.
”I will not fail.” You bluster. “I will become a hero and make you proud. I swear to you.”
Grandmother is the first to stand. Even in her old age, she looks ethereal and godlike. She smiles prettily as she strides away and almost everyone except for father and Akiro follow her.
“Are you sure you think you’ll handle it?” Akiro worries for good measure. He knows that you have not stepped foot of the estate in years due to how painful it was for you to be in public. He still remembers how you screamed and clutched your head each time you went outside. Everyone’s thoughts were too much to bear—even father became concerned about your mental health by it. The only place where you had some peace by so many thoughts was your home. Father and the elders had better control of their abilities and were able to block you from diving into their minds. Your older brother, Daichi — who has become a pro-hero already— was the same as well.
You nod, determined.
“I must.”
He sighs, but whatever he wants to say dies in his throat when father stands and walks towards you. He waits until both of you are standing before him.
Father pats your crown of white hair.
“You are more like your mother everyday.” He whispers, and you feel your eyes widen by his comment. Even, Akiro seems surprised. Father had never spoken about mother. Not in the 14 years since her passing. Ghosts of the pasts swim in his crimson eyes and you wonder if father is seeing you, or a ghost who had been dead for as long as you had been alive.
“Do not act rashly. It is time you learn patience and what it takes to be one of us.” He says, his words are plain and they feel like a sword through your heart. You hate being punished by father. It makes you feel weak.
“Yes, father.” You bow, obediently.
The start of your hero journey begins now.