_______________
2003 Quirk Report
(Y/n) (L/n)
Quirk: Proficiency.
Quirk Type: Transformation.
Threat level: Medium
Even 'at rest,' that is to say, without deliberately using her quirk, the child has a generous physical constitution; a seemingly bottomless pit of stamina to draw upon. That being said — by activating Proficiency, (Y/n) can master, or as I've coined, become 'proficient' at executing a repetitive movement for an unclear, though reasonably short period of time.
During comprehensive testing examples of applying her quirk ranged from having (Y/n) amplify her ability to jump, sprint, and perform various tricks. These trials went well — leading me to believe she may become sought out by many Hero organizations in the future.
All the best,
Quirk Assessor,
Hina Garaki,
__________
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(September 15th, 2008)
Greetings, Ms. (L/n).
We at the Hero Public Safety Commission would like to discuss the matter of your daughter, (Y/n) (L/n). In short, we believe that her quirk, Proficiency, brings with it immense potential, and that with such a versatile quirk your daughter should be entrusted to the commission to undergo hero training in the interest of pursuing the greater good.
Regardless, we are acutely aware that you must have many questions, comments, and concerns regarding our abrupt proposal, which is why we at the HPSC would like to arrange a meeting in person to go over such issues.
Sincerely,
Chairman of the Hero Public Safety Commission,
Kenji Riku,
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10 Letters Later. . .
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(August 29th, 2009)
Ms. (L/n) it has been nearly a year since our meeting. The HPSC acknowledges your concerns, though we still feel that it is of the utmost importance for your daughter to be mentored and trained to use her quirk in a way that will benefit society as a whole.
To add, the commission has caught wind of your current financial predicament — and we wish to provide you with ample remuneration should you cooperate.
Urgently,
Chairman of the Hero Public Safety Commission,
Kenji Riku,
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"Mom?" You questioned. "Is there something wrong?" You were off put by the strange expression she held, her eyes heavily scrutinizing the bunch of letters in her hand.
"Course not," she replied quickly. "There is absolutely nothing to worry about."
"Then can I go out and play?"
"Sure you can."
~
(November 8th, 2013.)
A white haired boy yelled: "What a pathetic excuse for a quirk!"
You scowled back — from afar. How dare someone say that to anyone? You thought. It was truly crude in your eyes. How could anyone look down on someone for a condition they were born with? Besides, in the right circumstances, or with the right amount of effort — anyone could be more than capable. At least, that's what you believed. Yes, even at the ripe age of 14.
The white haired boy was yelling at a heteromorph from your class. *Tch, what gave him the right?* You thought.
You didn't know the heteromorph well, but had talked to him a handful of times; talked to him enough to know that he didn't deserve this. No one did.
You stomped towards the aggressor, not at all eager to tell him off — only seeing it as a necessary confrontation. Justice would be served.
"What an awfully terrible thing to say." You scolded the boy.
Almost ominously, calculatedly slow, the boy shifted his gaze towards you. And without hesitation, he opened his mouth. "You wanna repeat that?"
You did, putting emphasis on the 'said,' "I *said* that was an awfully terrible thing to say."
"Like I care." He refuted.
"You should. I mean, I know people are born with different quirks, but who knew someone could develop such *pathetic* behaviour."
In that moment, you could have sworn that his eyes swirled with otherworldly animosity. It shook you to the core, and it made you brace for action.
But it never came.
"You're a fool. I'm going to surpass All Might one day with my quirk, and what are you going to do?" He taunted.
Oh how you wanted to knock him on his ass. But, you knew you were better than that. "None of your business." You stated. In truth, you didn't know what you wanted to do. Except, it didn't really bother you all that much. You would just stay, well — you. Right. . ?
You walked away, turning to offer a hand to the heteromorph he'd rudely slandered.
He never picked on the heteromorph again after that.
You two never spoke again either, but you felt like a new set of eyes took notice of your presence whenever he was near.
~
(December 20th, 2013.)
"Let me join the HPSC, Mom." You argued.
"Over my dead body, (Y/n)."
Her voice was tense, yours anguished.
"Why not? Please. I can get us money. We could live a better life. We could—"
"No (Y/n). You don't know what they'll do with you. You don't know how bad they are. You—"
"And how do you know they're bad? Just what are you not telling me?"
She calmed her tone, moving to give you a level look.
"Please just listen. Just trust me. Promise you will never submit to the Hero Public Safety Commission."
"I-I promise." You conceded.
~
(January 7th, 2015.)
Aside from the hospital bed you intertwined your warm, gentle hand with that of your mother's cold, callaced one. Her hands were callaced because she spent her entire life doing what little she could to make yours better. To make yours as perfect as could be amidst decrepit circumstances.
Essentially, her hands were rough from labour, and cold because she was dead.
You wept silently at her side, the heart monitor having flatlined mere seconds ago. All this time, you never cried in front of her after the accident. Not even once. Afterall, if she was strong on your behalf for years, even as a single parent, then you could be strong for her for a couple months, right? A couple months until she — recovered. . .
It was a work accident. It was a simplistic and cruel way to go. She fell off a ladder working in construction. It wasn't some extraordinary event or scuffle. Rather, it was an easily forgotten misfortune, that is, to everyone other than you.
The HPSC reached out to you soon after, declaring that your mother would be honoured to know of you joining the commission after her death.
However, the HPSC didn't know about your promise. They didn't know how obvious it was to you that they were trying to manipulate you. Heck, the only thing more was obvious was how desperate they were to recruit you.
At first, you responded to these messages in a friendly tone, refusing as politely as possible.
Yet again, they didn't take no for an answer. Not that you were surprised.
A month or so later, they began sending their — spokespeople to your home, and before you knew it, you could sense them subtlety meddling in your life.
Good job offers: Gone. Good opportunities: Gone. Good reputation: Gone.
You couldn't even bring yourself to think back on the specifics.
Was this hero society? Because if it was, (Y/n) sure as hell couldn't name a damn heroic thing about it.
So she did what she felt she had to do: Disappear from the public eye.
To be continued. . .
P.S. Super excited for the first real chapter! Hope you like it so far even if it's just back story to begin with <3