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There had always been a separation between you and the others. Even that hot headed Bakugo seemed to have people that wanted to be around him. That had never been you luck though. From the moment your parentage had been made public, you became someone the other kids avoided. Your mother was someone to be lauded, a retired Pro who'd saved countless people over the course of her career - who raised you to understand what makes a person a hero... or a villain.
You were 11 when you learned who your father was. It had always been just you and her - she was the best parent you could have asked for. Sure, occasionally you wondered who your father was, why he wasn't around. But after the first time you asked you mother about him at the age of five, you never asked again. The look of utter heartbreak on her face was something you'd never forget.
It was after lunch; you were sitting at your desk with your notebook open in front of you as you waited for class to start again. The rest of your class came trickling in, as they always did after the break. Only this time, the atmosphere had changed. Instead of being ignored or given the occasional polite smile, they looked at you with clear hate and contempt.
As far as you knew, nothing had changed. You didn't think you'd done anything to bring about this kind of reaction. In fact, you hadn't done anything today that you hadn't been doing for the last several years. It wasn't until some of the bigger kids in class decided to stand around your desk that you finally discovered why everyone seemed to hate you.
You'd had to wait almost an hour for your mom to pick you up. Your lip was swollen and split, a deep bruise already forming under one eye and your wrist was sore from where someone had stepped on it. The ride home was silent - tears dripped slowly down your mothers’ cheeks until the car pulled into the garage.
Only once you were safely within the confines of your own home did you ask the question that had been eating away at your young mind.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
For the rest of that evening, you and you mother sat together on the couch, blankets tucked around you while tea steamed from mugs clutched tight in your fingers. She didn't hide anything, didn't lie - answered every question you asked with an age-appropriate answer.
Your father was an infamous villain now known as the Warped Terror - though at the time your mother knew him he was still a low-level thug who'd managed to keep the true nature of himself hidden. From what your mother told you, he was an excellent actor, using her generous nature to gain her confidence. It was only after she found out she was pregnant that she learned what he really was.
For months he managed to avoid detection, using a Quirk very similar to your own to kill dozens. The heroes and police finally caught him when you were around six months old. Your mom never told anyone who your father was, especially once he was locked up in Tartarus.
Somehow though, the information got out. Your life was tipped upside down and your mom chose to retire in order to spend more time with you.
It would be easy to lie to yourself and claim you didn't know why these memories suddenly came jumping to the front of your mind. But you couldn't. You knew exactly why and the person who'd triggered it.
You'd seen him in the halls before, heard people talk about him the same way they talked about you - even if you'd gotten into the hero course on recommendations. Shinso Hitoshi, the boy with the 'villain' Quirk. It was something you used to hear all the time too.
But then you saw him at the Sports Festival. You noticed the fierce determination on his face, the anger when he talked about the way people treat him and his abilities. More than anything though, you recognized the pure resolute drive to prove people wrong. It was the same thing that pushed you into wanting to become a hero too.
After the festival was finished, you'd tried to find him. Hoping for the chance to at least give him a word of encouragement and let him know he wasn't alone. He was nowhere to be found though. For weeks afterward you kept your eyes open for him in the halls and on campus. At first it was to pass on the message you wanted to give after the festival. But then you started to hear stories from some of the General Studies students about the kind of person he was - his kindness and willingness to help his classmates.
Finally, almost four weeks after the festival, Aizawa Sensei asked you to speak with him after class.
Sitting at your desk waiting for everyone else to leave, Asui stopped next to you on her way out of the room.
"Everything alright? You've been pretty quiet recently, ribbet."
The genuine kindness and worry in her tone caught you off guard. Sure, you talked to your classmates, but you'd never really considered yourself close enough for any of them to actually care, or even notice, when you were a little off your game.
"Oh. Hello, Tsu. Yes, I'm alright. Sensei asked to speak with me after class, that's all." You paused, taking in the concern still lining her features before continuing, your voice softer than before, "Thank you though. F-for asking... for checking."
Her face softened immediately, drawing a small smile from your usually stoic expression.
"Of course! We're friends after all. You can come to me for anything."
She gave you one more smile as she left, leaving you alone with your instructor in the quiet room.
"Thank you for staying," Aizawa Sensei's bored tone seemed to almost vibrate through the air when he finally spoke.
You paused before responding, wracking your brain for what you could have done to warrant a private conversation.
"Did I do something wrong, sir?"
"No." The dark-haired man rose from his seat, pulling a bag out from beneath his desk. "I was actually hoping you would be willing to come with me to speak with another student who I believe could benefit from a conversation with you."
"Oh. Yes, certainly, however I can help," you agreed immediately, slinging your pack over your shoulder as you stood.
To say you were surprised when Aizawa led you to a practice field near Ground Beta would be an understatement. You were still puzzling over who he might want you to speak with when a familiar head of purple hair came into view. The familiar flutter in your chest threatened to seize your heart before you managed to get your feelings under control - desperately hoping you'd been able to keep the emotions off your face.
"Eraserhead, you didn't say anything about bringing someone else to train with," it was impossible to miss the undercurrent of anger in his voice.
The older hero watched Shinso with an arched brow, "You seem to think you're alone in this battle to prove yourself. Until you recognize that is not the case, all this training will mean nothing."
Aizawa Sensei shifted his attention to you, giving a brief nod before stepping back to lean against a tree.
Taking a step forward, you introduced yourself with quick bow of your head. Shinso's violet gaze never left you, his eye narrowed in distrust and frustration.
"Yeah, sure. So, why'd he drag you along? Don't you hero students have better things to do than associate with us lowly Gen Studies students?"
As if on instinct, your head tipped slightly to one side, "I'm not sure why you're giving me attitude. I haven't done anything to you."
He scoffed, "Maybe not, but you hero students are all the same. You have no idea what it's like having to fight and claw to prove yourself."
"Oooooh. I understand now," you cast a glance over your shoulder to look at your teacher who was now sporting a smug little smirk. "So, you think that because I made it into the Hero Course, I never had to prove anything?"
You began walking, keeping your pace even, despite the racing of your heart. He turned as you did, always keeping you in front of him, the scowl on his face never shifting.
"Well, I know you never have," the venom in his voice was enough to sting. "You got in through recommendations. Clearly you haven't had to fight for anything. Probably have some Pro in your pocket to make sure you got whatever you wanted."
A joyless chuckle left you as you shook your head. Stopping next to a massive tree in the forest covered training ground, you rested your hand against it - feeling the rough texture of the bark beneath your fingers.
"You make a lot of assumptions for someone who doesn't know me."
Looking up through the leaves at the small points of light coming through the leaves, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. The sound of the wind ruffling the branches above grounded you, helping to still some of the anxiety building in your stomach. A lot of people knew who your parents were, at least their professional names. You had your mother’s family name; it helped to keep the rest of your parentage a little less hidden. It was surprising though, that he didn't know who you were. Most of the people in 1A with you had.
"Don't have to know you to know that much," another sharp dismissal.
"Tell me something Shinso, do you recognize the name Warped Terror?"
You hated the pit that formed in your stomach every time the name was mentioned. Without opening your eyes or taking your hand off the tree, you stayed quiet and waited for his response.
"What?! What does that have to do with- Eraserhead! Why are you wasting my time with her? This is stupid!"
Without leaving his post, your instructors voice cut through air like a whip, "Answer her question."
A heavy irritated sigh left Shinso before he answered, "Yes, I know who he is. Got locked up years ago. Why's it matter, huh?!"
Opening your eyes at last, you shifted to look back at where Shinso stood, "He's my father."
Power flowed from where your fingers rested against the tree. With an almost unbearably loud creaking screech, the once proud form of the tree began to warp and twist into an unrecognizable shape. Previously strong limps that had grasped for sunlight curled in on themselves and split at strange angles.
Shinso's mouth fell open in shock, his half-lidded eyes going wide at the reveal and display of the raw power of your Quirk.
In your time at UA, you'd learned how to control the shape of the things you distorted. It was still difficult and required concentration, but you could do it. But this display, you let the power flow freely - allowed it to twist the tree into the true nightmarish shapes that Distortion craved.
Over the next month, you joined Shinso and Aizawa Sensei at least twice a week to help his training. Thanks to your Quirk, you were able to quickly and easily adjust the battlefield to allow variation to the exercises. It was refreshing to have the chance to practice with your Quirk outside of regular class hours and you could feel the way your control over the destructive power increased.
During those sessions you talked to Shinso, asking him questions about what it was like growing up with a Quirk like his and his life before UA. He asked you about your life too. First about how people reacted when the truth was revealed, then how people's perception of your Quirk shifted after that; until finally, the two of you talked about life like you were old friends.
Your childhoods were so different, but that connection of others never choosing to assume before actually knowing you was a thread so strong it was impossible to ignore.
Soon you were sitting together at lunch and meeting up after class to study and work on homework. You're not sure when it happened, but that shift from friendship to crush suddenly made you hyperaware of how close he would sit to you while reviewing notes. There was no ignoring the way your heart would race when his eyes met yours, or the butterflies in your stomach when he'd give you a rare smile.
It was one evening while the two of you were returning to your respective dorms after a training session that you built up enough courage to confess.
"Shinso," he was already a few steps ahead of you before he noticed you'd stopped.
Turning to look at you, his brow furrowed in concern, "Everything alright? What's up?"
His shoes scraped against the sidewalk when he walked back to stand in front of you.
You took a deep breath to steady yourself before looking up to meet his eyes, "I have something to tell you, but I don't want it to change anything between us if you don't the same."
The concern on his face shifted to confusion, "Okay?"
"I like you. More than a friend. I- I've never had someone in my life that understood how hard it is to fight past the assumptions. It's been nice. Refreshing. You don't have to feel the same, but I couldn't keep ignoring the way I feel."
The nails of your fingers bit into the palm of your hands with how hard you were clenching them. You didn't look away, wouldn't let the fear of rejection make you hide.
He was quiet for a moment, his expression impossible to read - even with as well as you'd gotten to know him recently.
"Huh."
Your stomach felt like it dropped into your toes. Of all the things you were expecting him to say, 'huh' was not amongst them.
"Huh?? Seriously? Of all the-"
The chuckle that rumbled out of him caught you by surprise, stopping the rest of what you were going to say in your throat.
Taking another couple of steps to stand beside you, Shinso reached out to the trembling fist at your side. The moment his fingers touched your skin, your relaxed. With a softness you hadn't expected, he carefully unfurled your fingers before intertwining his hand with yours.
"Guess it's a good thing I like you too."