The awards ceremony was a blur. Seeing All Might stand right in front of her and drape a medal around her neck was a blur. So much so that she barely even had time to consider how easy it would be, just a flick and a lunge, to put a knife in the gut of Japan's number one hero. Seeing Todoroki above her, Tokoyami below... a blur. Noise and color.
She'd only just made it back to her apartment by the time the world stopped spinning, and everything settled, and she could take a moment and think about what she had done. About how many people had stopped her on the train, to congratulate her. To ask her questions. To ask her name, her quirk, her ambitions for the future...
When Era searched for herself on the internet the top result was a picture of her, standing on that podium, smiling serenely as she accepted a medal from All Might. All Might. Close enough to stab.
A blur.
And it just didn't stop, did it? Time slowed for no one, least of all her, and it seemed that the universe was dead-set on dragging her forward at a speed unfit for reflection. Because the moment she sat down on her dingy little mattress she'd gotten the call from principal Nedzu, setting up a meeting before school to discuss her enrollment in the Hero Course. The principal of UA. Quite possibly the smartest creature alive. And he wanted a meeting with her.
Era knew that if she tried to consider how she'd gotten here, sitting across from the small, white-furred principal as he pleasantly handed her a cup of steaming tea, she would get lost in the tangled threads of color. It was a blur, and there was no time to tease apart the individual aspects into something comprehensible. She could only sit, accept the proffered tea with a polite smile, and figure out how to proceed from where she'd ended up.
"I must admit, I'm quite impressed with your performance," said Nedzu before taking a sip from his cup. Era glanced down at her own, unsure if it would be rude of her not to drink it. Accepting drinks from strangers had always been uncomfortable, that niggling insistence that there was something wrong with it, that she had no way of knowing its contents, always sharp at the back of her mind.
She set it down gently, careful to avoid the clink of porcelain. "Thank you. I... appreciate that."
"And of course," he said brightly, "I've been eager to meet you in person for quite some time now!"
Ominous. "Really? I'm not that interesting."
"I would have to disagree! You caused quite a stir in the entrance exams, you know. The decision to bar you from heroics was not a light one... in the end it came down to recklessness. Many felt that you were too willing to put your own life on the line, or that you were simply exploiting the natural parameters of a school exam."
"...ah." She wasn't sure why he was saying this. She... hadn't asked.
"But!" The principal clapped his paws together with a wide grin. "That's not what we're here to discuss! You still wish to join the Hero Course?"
"Yes, if you'll allow it." Era hesitated for a moment, picking up her cup in the hopes of masking it. "Is Shinsou also being considered for transfer?"
"Yes, yes," said Nedzu with a nod and a wave of his paw. "Aizawa was quite insistent, and he performed well enough to garner some attention."
Aizawa... well, Era was glad the man was looking out for Hitoshi, at least, though she still wasn't sure why.
"But we're here to talk about you! Tell me, have you been enjoying your time at UA? I've come to realize over the years that the transition between middle school and high school can be a stressful one, but some students have more difficulty settling than others."
Era eyed him warily over her cup, pressing it to her lips before deciding that she wouldn't drink it. The thought left her a bit too queasy, and he wasn't pressing her about it. She set it down again with a smile.
"It was kind of stressful, but I think I'm learning how to handle myself. The classwork here is intense, though of course that's what I'd expect from UA."
Nedzu hummed thoughtfully, taking a sip of his own. Behind the animal features and the beady eyes he was near unreadable, and that left Era unsettled. She was used to certain tics and tells, twitches of muscle that danced across the face and betrayed what lay beyond, but here... he wasn't human, and she felt very much out of her depth whenever she tried to parse his micro expressions. It was like learning another language, with a completely different alphabet. Except instead of starting with a children's book she'd been handed a treatise on metaphysics.
"How long have you wanted to be a hero, Suzuki?" he said at last. "You seem to have some extensive training already."
Era shrugged. "Hard to tell, really. I've been training for a while now, but I don't think I always wanted to be a hero."
"Really? Why did you train, then?"
Yeah, she'd walked into that one, but fuck she really didn't want to lie to him. Not out of any sort of loyalty of course, but because she had the faintest suspicion that, out of anyone at this school, Nedzu would be the most equipped to see through her falsehoods. Half-truths it would be, then, until she figured out how to better read him.
"My... parents encouraged it. A good outlet, I think? And I was good at it, enjoyed it well enough."
"Your parents... and they're still in America, aren't they?"
Era felt a strain at her smile and had to force it to remain natural. "Yes, they're doing some business there."
"Unfortunate. I imagine they would've enjoyed seeing you compete live in the festival, but I suppose life doesn't always grant us what we want."
Wise words. "They're not super invested in my school life, honestly."
"Is that so?" said Nedzu. "Well, that's quite a shame. I'm sure they're proud of you regardless."
Era twitched, unable to repress the entirety of her wince. "I'm sure they are."
"Well! There is some paperwork that I would have liked them to sign in person, but given the circumstances I can pass them off to you. As long as you get them back to us soon everything should be in order. And, of course, there is the matter of your prize..."
Era blinked, staring at him across the table. "Prize?"
Nedzu's eyes glimmered, and for a moment her own gaze was drawn to the only obvious scar across his face. It was unsettlingly similar to a surgical scar, like a scalpel dragged throughs the flesh. She was sure she shouldn't ask where it came from, and almost certain she didn't actually want to know.
"Prize!" Nedzu crowed, leaning over to rifle through the drawers of his desk. "The top-ranked competitors this year are receiving a monetary prize, courtesy of UA!"
"I... don't recall that being the case in previous years." Even though she'd been ignorant to the UA Sports Festival up until a few weeks ago, Era had made sure to watch all the previous competitions to get an idea of what would be thrown at her. She was almost positive that there had never been mention of any sort of award.
"Oh, we've just begun implementing it this year. I believe we announced it a couple times, but we didn't want to put too much pressure on the students..." Nedzu emerged, triumphantly waving an envelope in his paw. "Here we are! Eight hundred thousand yen all told, not bad for your debut!"
"Eight hundred..." That number... obviously she'd seen more, held more, probably, but it had never been... it had never been hers. That wasn't... she'd never earned it like... was this a trick? It had to be. Era could believe that she'd missed that announcement, too caught up in the cameras and the no weakness and the dizzying blur that was everything after her conversation with Aizawa, but everything about it felt off in that subtle way, the kind that left her nauseous in too-open rooms and crowded places, left her scouting vantage points and exit routes.
That was enough money to last her a while. She'd been surviving on nothing for so long, on handouts and cafeteria food and secondhand electronics tossed aside...
Eight hundred thousand yen. Nedzu was still holding the envelope, presenting it to her as if he expected her to take it. Eight hundred thousand. She didn't even know what to do with that amount of money, nonetheless where she'd keep it. Fuck, and was it a check? Because there was certainly no way for her to cash it—
Era accepted the envelope and no, no that was certainly not a check. It was far too heavy to be a check. Eight hundred fucking thousand yen in this tiny little envelope. Her life encased in flimsy paper, clutched in a near-trembling hand because this was... this changed everything.
Her mind was a flurry of lists, of problem and solution, of careful steps she'd need to take in order to make proper use of this money. This money that she shouldn't own. She didn't deserve it.
"Are you alright, Suzuki? Oh, I've distracted you with my prattling on, look, your tea's gone cold."
Eight hundred thousand yen he'd just given her, and he was worrying about wasting a cup of tea that she hadn't even wanted in the first place.
Focus. "That's no problem, I enjoyed talking to you."
Had she? Had she enjoyed this conversation? She was too caught up in stunned confusion to register anything else.
Nedzu just let out a little trill of laughter. "And I enjoyed speaking with you! Hopefully we can chat again sometime, but for now I've kept you long enough. Are you ready for you first heroics class?"
Era nodded dumbly, taking the hint and rising from her seat to give a short bow. "Have a good day, sir."
"And you as well! Take care! Feel free to let me know if there are any issues with the transfer."
Muttering some quiet parting words, Era escaped into the empty hallway. She stuffed the envelope into one of her backpack's hidden compartments, fingers numb where she touched it because it still didn't feel real. None of it. A blur.
And then she was standing in front of the enormous door to class 1-A, listening to the faint chattering of students drifting past as she steeled herself for several pairs of eyes to burrow beneath her skin. I've faced worse.
The instant she opened the door she was met with a barrage of noise.
"Suzuki!"
"Oh hey Era!"
"Wait do we have two transfers--?"
"Era." Hitoshi's relieved voice cut through the rest, and Era looked to find him sitting uneasily behind a desk at the edge of the classroom. It seemed that he was under attack by a few other students, and he stared at her in a silent plea for help.
Era sighed, offering the students she knew a quiet smile as she headed over to him. "Hey Hitoshi. New friends?"
A blindingly pink girl whirled around on her, grin far too bright for the hour. "Oh! Are you joining our class too? I'm Ashido Mina!"
"Suzuki Era." It was too early for this nonsense and from the look of exhaustion on Shinsou's face he was inclined to agree. "Nice to meet you."
"You totally kicked ass in the Sports Festival!" continued Ashido, emphasizing her point with a sharp jab through the air. "That thing with the gun? Crazy!"
One of the other students crowding the desk, who Era now recognized as Kaminari from her first match, sheepishly rubbed at the back of his neck. "Oh, uh, hey! Sorry for electrocuting you? I think?"
Era snorted. "Yeah, no hard feelings, right?"
Kaminari just winced, though he was still grinning. "You're gonna have to tell me how you did that, because honestly I don't remember anything from that match."
"She literally didn't do anything," muttered Hitoshi. "She just stood there and took it. Like an idiot."
"Are you joking?" Kaminari stared at Era, wide-eyed. "That was... dude, are you serious? Wow, your tolerance must be, like, insane. That shorted me out, and I've been getting shocked since my quirk came in."
Era forced out a laugh. "Yeah, well, it wasn't really—"
The classroom door slammed open, followed by a fierce roar. "You."
Hitoshi buried his face further into his arms. "This is my hell. This is actually my—"
"What are these two extras doing here?" Bakugou snarled as he marched over to the far too crowded desk.
Era sighed, slowly turning around to meet his eye. "Good morning, Bakugou. And here I hoped this wasn't actually your personality, but no. I guess you really do live like this."
Small bursts of fire crackled up his arms. "What the fuck did you just say to me?"
"Coward," said Era without a hint of emotion. "Hit me or back away. Don't embarrass yourself any further with this posturing."
"Holy shit," muttered Kaminari hoarsely, taking a few steps back from the table. "Don't antagonize him."
Bakugou snarled in wordless frustration, a few more explosions going off in his palms before he finally managed to settle, to breathe, to rein in his anger. Era was honestly impressed. She hadn't thought him capable of that.
"You better fucking—"
"Whoa, Bakugou man, we should totally catch up!" A familiar red-haired boy looped his arm around Bakugou's shoulders, dragging him away and chatting all the while. "How you doing? I feel like we haven't talked in forever!"
"This class is weird," Era muttered. Hitoshi let out a snort of laughter.
"Aw, don't judge us all based on Bakugou!" said Ashido with an exaggerated pout. "He acts like a big jerk, but he doesn't mean any of it, you know?"
Yes, yes, she was quite familiar with individuals who ran their mouths and acted tough but, in the end, couldn't fulfill the promise behind their flimsy threats. Era huffed, remembering the exact words Nyx would use in those situations. "Talk shit get hit."
Ashido burst out laughing, and both Era and Hitoshi winced at the sudden noise.
"Oh my god Suzuki you are hilarious! You're totally gonna love it in our class, I promise."
Era sighed, allowing a small grin to settle on her face. "Is there another empty desk?"
As it turned out there was, right in front of Hitoshi's. Apparently two extra desks had been tacked on to the end of one column in preparation for their arrival, although Era felt that it left the classroom feeling rather lopsided. It was nice, though, being able to sit near someone she felt comfortable with, someone she could trust to have her back if things turned ugly. Not that they would, of course, she just...
Nice to sit next to a window, too. Just in case.
Not so exciting was the fact that her seat placed her directly next to Todoroki. Who was staring at her with a disconcerting intensity that left the skin at the back of her neck tingling even when she couldn't see him
There wasn't much time to dwell on that as a parade of 1-A students decided to join the crowd around Hitoshi's desk, widening their circle so that it encompassed Era as well. Fantastic. Just what she needed, more noise.
"Era!" Uraraka leaned on Era's desk, a wide grin on her face. "This is so exciting! Now we can really be a study squad, we should totally meet more often. Do some hero stuff too, you know?"
Next to her Midoriya nodded, eyes lighting up with some thought or another. "Oh! Have you submitted anything for your hero costume yet? Do you have any ideas? Because I could help you if you'd like, not to say you need it or anything, but I kind of, well, sort of, you know, really enjoy that stuff?"
"Deku's really good at it," said Uraraka. "He helped me make some changes to my costume that were super helpful!"
Midoriya ducked his head with an inarticulate sputter, a faint blush dusting across his face and highlighting his freckles. Era sighed. This is one of the most powerful kids in class.
Thankfully Era had already considered this in detail when she'd made it back to her apartment with nothing to do but distract herself from the looming dread of her decisions and the inevitable consequences therein. That was before she'd been blindsided by eight hundred thousand fucking yen but the basics remained the same. She knew that UA would be footing the bill for the more complex parts of her costume anyway—or, at least, the legal aspects. She had been hoping to secure a few extras from her own sources, although she hadn't been sure how she would actually get said items... now, though, she had more than enough money.
Best not to share that last detail with her fellow students. Still, Midoriya was intelligent and Uraraka was probably right; from what she'd seen of him he would be good at this kind of thing. Era pulled out a crumpled piece of notebook paper from her bag, smoothing it out against the desk and instinctively rearing back when both Midoriya and Uraraka leaned in to take a closer look.
"Whoa..." Uraraka's nose scrunched up as she read through messy list. "Do you really need all of this stuff?"
"Do you... not have all of this stuff?" asked Era incredulously. This was her modified list, the one she planned on giving to the support department. Just the basics until she could scrape up something more substantive.
"Um, no?" Uraraka glanced over at Midoriya, who was still scanning the paper with his head slightly tilted to the side. "I thought this would be, like, costume notes, you know? What you want it to look like?"
"Oh." Era reached into her bag again, pulling out another, far more crumpled piece of paper. "I had a few sketches but I'm... not really an artist."
She was good at names and faces—or at least she had been, given how sieve-like her mind had become she wouldn't be surprised if she'd lost that as well—but Era had never been one for committing what she saw to paper. There wasn't a use for it, not when a camera could serve far better. She could make clean, precise lines, copy down patterns if it was required, but sketching from imagination had never been her forte. Honestly, she'd been planning to lean on Hatsume for that aspect, let her creative mind go to work. She didn't trust anyone else to touch her costume.
"Are you planning to go underground?" asked Midoriya suddenly. Era paused, realizing she hadn't even considered it. The path to actually becoming a hero, her life after such a lofty achievement had never really felt... real.
"I guess so," she said. "I don't really like the spotlight, and my quirk's not exactly flashy."
Midoriya nodded, bringing a hand to his chin. "Okay, that makes sense, because a lot of your costume seems to be designed for stealth rather than spectacle, and the mask will probably make you look really scary which isn't great for daylight heroes. I mean, it works for Endeavor and Gang Orca I guess but they also have a presence and attention-grabbing aspect that go with it while this is more—"
"Is that a skull?" Hitoshi didn't even sound surprised, resting an arm on Era's shoulder as he leaned over her. "You want your mask to look like a skull?"
"It's intimidating," muttered Era, snatching the paper back up again. "I don't want people to read my expression, and I'd like protection from airborne quirks—"
"It doesn't have to be a skull, though," said Hitoshi pointedly. "I can't believe that you're secretly the lamest person I know."
"You've made a lot of considerations for offense, but not a lot for your own protection," cut in Midoriya. Era would bet that he wasn't even listening to the conversation around him. "You don't want to be weighed down by armor or padding?"
"The best defense is a good offense," said Era wearily. "And I like having options."
"A lot of this can be built into the mask..." Midoriya continued, voice lowering to a barely audible mutter. "Rebreather shouldn't take up much space and could be useful to have so that makes sense, night vision too if you're going underground, plus filtration for airborne quirks and other chemical attacks... also understandable that you'd want a gun given your obvious experience in the Sports Festival, and it could be a lot more advanced now that an actual support specialist can be more involved with the design... knives are always useful but I never considered that several different kinds could come in handy, for throwing, close range fights, basic utility... I assume the rubber soles are for avoiding electrical attacks?"
Era huffed, glancing around uneasily at the crowd of students that had gathered around her desk. "Correct. I'd rather have a point of insulation that I can rely on. Not everyone short circuits after electrifying someone."
Kaminari gave an awkward cough, and the earphone jack girl, Jirou, smirked as she shoved him lightly in the shoulder.
Midoriya hummed thoughtfully, still staring at the list. "There're lockpicks on here. You can pick locks?"
"You can't?"
"You know how to use all of this equipment? I mean obviously we already know you can use firearms but there's a difference between fighting with your fists, with knives, and with a staff, I mean even with the knives you have different kinds of—"
"I'm aware of my capabilities," said Era stiffly. Fuck, she should've known Midoriya would turn this into a rambling interrogation. She'd seen him do it enough with his other classmates. "I can use all of this gear."
"Wait, hold up," Jirou interjected. "You know how to pick locks?"
"Yes?" Was this not a common skill? She understood that not everyone was trained to identify every possible way to kill someone the moment they entered a room, but lockpicking? That was so mundane, such an essential bit of knowledge that she honestly couldn't recall when she'd picked it up.
Wait, no, that was a lie. Basilisk had definitely left her locked in a room on occasion, with the understood expectation that she would have to let herself out. It wasn't particularly memorable, though, and it seemed like she'd gotten bored of it after Era developed her skills to the point where the door would click open before Basilisk had even turned around.
Ashido bounced in place excitedly. "Ooh, you have to teach us!"
"Man, I bet you never get locked out of your own house," said Kaminari wistfully. "I'm always forgetting my keys."
"Wait." Midoriya had finally dropped the paper, and Era gladly took the opportunity to snatch it up and stuff it back into her bag. "Are you planning on carrying all of this stuff with you? All the time?"
"...yes?" Era couldn't scrub the exhaustion from her voice, and homeroom hadn't even started yet.
"She carried a lot of gear during the cavalry battle, and that didn't slow her down," offered Asui as she joined the crowd.
"But hey, how are you going to use knives without, I don't know, stabbing people?" Ashido asked with a frown.
Era sighed, glancing at the clock. "People are probably going to get stabbed. By the knives. That's kind of what they're for."
"Dude, is that allowed?" the tape boy, Sero if she remembered the final round correctly, asked.
Children. "A little more precise than exploding their entire face, I'd think."
"I am sitting right here," snarled Bakugou from across the room. "I'll explode your face."
"Do it coward."
The red-haired boy who'd dragged Bakugou away in the first place laughed. "You guys are funny."
Era let the subsequent spitting rage wash over her for a second, leaning back in her chair with a faint furrow in her brow. Something about this whole conversation was off, but she couldn't...
"Do you people not have gear for your hero costumes?" she asked at last, voice tinged by disbelief.
"Um..." Ashido shifted uncomfortable. "Well, I have holes in my boots for the acid to come out!"
"I have some speakers for my jacks to plug into," said Jirou, gesturing loosely to her calves where Era assumed the speakers usually lay.
"I'm working on it," said Kaminari sheepishly. "But, I mean, there's a lot of schoolwork and studying and stuff, you just forget about it, you know? Uh, Bakugou has some support gear though!"
Of course. Era leaned back in her chair to shoot Bakugou a questioning look. He, predictably, scowled back at her.
"What? I ain't telling you shit."
"Let me guess," said Era dryly. "Grenades?"
"Fuck off."
"Do none of you have actual weapons?" The thought was incomprehensible to her. Even here in this classroom Era had no less than five knives strapped to her person and more hidden in her bag. She'd feel vulnerable without them, and couldn't even consider what her life might've been like had she never begun to carry them around.
"I mean, aren't our quirks kind of, you know, weapons?" asked Kaminari.
"What would you do in a fight against Eraserhead? You'd be practically quirkless." Era shook her head, still acutely aware of Todoroki's gaze boring into her. "Besides, your quirk's not going to be useful in every situation. Don't you want options?"
"That's smart, kero." Asui tapped at her chin thoughtfully. "I never thought of it like that. I always just figured I'd be working in water rescue so I wouldn't have to worry about it, but you never know when something you're less suited to can come up."
"Yeah, but, isn't fighting with weapons and stuff kind of, I don't know, less honorable?" called the red-head from across the room. "You should fight them at their level!"
Era stared back at him. "That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard."
Hitoshi leaned forward to smack her softly on the shoulder. "Be nice."
"Says you."
"At least I'm mean on the inside."
"Debatable. You're mean to me."
"That's what our friendship is built upon."
"Fair enough," said Era with a grin.
Aizawa chose that moment to enter the room, and immediately the crowd of students dispersed to sit quietly in their desks, with some like Kaminari and Ashido near throwing themselves onto their seats in a bid for haste. Era snorted, wondering what he could've possibly done to have them so scared. She highly doubted that any of these kids had acted out more than she had, and Aizawa hadn't taken action against her yet.
A quiet, more hopeful corner of her mind was beginning to think he never would.
Aizawa's gaze swept across the classroom appraisingly before staring back down at a small stack of papers in his hands. "Better. I want to congratulate you all on your performance in the Sports Festival."
The class seemed to collectively hold its breath as if waiting for him to elaborate. Era was a little confused about what they expected, but the entire room deflated when he continued.
"Moving on, I'm sure you've all noticed we have two transfer students from General Studies. Any questions about this?"
The tone strongly suggested that, if anyone did have questions, they should keep it to themselves. Era was having trouble suppressing a smile—was this really how he acted in class?
Even with the tacit warning, the red-head raised his hand. "Uh, Aizawa-sensei? Shouldn't we all introduce ourselves or something?"
"This isn't a social club. Do that on your own time." Aizawa sighed, shuffling through his papers again. "Shinsou, Suzuki, is there anything you'd like to share with the class before we continue?"
"Not particularly," drawled Hitoshi. Era just shrugged.
"Wonderful. Now that that's over with, we have an important class on Hero Informatics today."
The entire classroom went tense, with Kaminari visibly cringing away from some unseen threat. Era bemusedly stared up at Aizawa and was unable to restrain a snort of laughter at the faintest uptick of his lips. He's doing this on purpose. There was no real threat, here.
"You're all going to need codenames."
Codenames? Era puzzled over this as the room erupted in excitement, and continued to think even into Aizawa's explanation. Obviously she should have seen this coming; all heroes had a name, identity, brand that represented who they were to the public. But she hadn't really... thought about it.
Suzuki Era might as well have been a codename. It wasn't real, she'd just made it up. Era was the only thing that was hers but even that was fake, a desperate grasping towards sounds and letters that she could press against her mind in the hopes of holding herself together.
Before that it had been Katori. Firebird. She refused to let that mantle burn into her flesh any longer.
Sparrow? Sparrow was hers, small and light and nondescript. But past the obvious idiocy of choosing the same name as her vigilante counterpart there was something about it that didn't feel right. Sparrow was for late night runs across rooftops, for fresh freedom lashing at her hair as the moonlight sank into her skin. Sparrow wasn't... a hero, Sparrow was just a mask she wore when the weight of it all was too much and she needed to fly away.
Had she ever had a name that was real? That was hers? Era, maybe, though sometimes it didn't really feel... right, like she was wearing another person's face. Sometimes, on bad days when the dark pressed in on all sides, Katori felt more fitting.
Focus. Did it even matter? She could never be a hero so this whole thing was an exercise in futility. She should just choose a random name and live with it.
Behind her Era heard a sharp intake of breath from Hitoshi. She looked up to see what had startled him and found that Aizawa had projected the internship offers on the board.
Much of it was as expected. Todoroki had the most, of course. Tokoyami and Iida also had several. Surprisingly enough Bakugou had quite a few as well, although in hindsight Era had to acknowledge that he had made quite a showing in the first two rounds of the festival, and the power of his quirk was obvious.
Further down the list there was Uraraka and Asui, Kaminari and Yaoyorozu, Kirishima, Sero...
And right at the bottom, a couple offers for Shinsou Hitoshi. Era narrowed her eyes. Idiots. He deserved more, but they were probably put off by a non-physical quirk and a kid still in General Studies. Absolutely ridiculous, Hitoshi could run circles around—
"What the fuck?" muttered Hitoshi, voice laced with anger. "You don't have any?"
"Hm?" Era glanced at the board again to confirm that he was, in fact, correct. "Makes sense. My matches weren't very showy and I never displayed an obvious quirk."
"What?" he hissed. "Era you got second place. I got offers and you got further than me."
"Yeah, but wasn't her last match, like, super freaky?" Sero twisted around in his seat to talk to them. "I mean it was hard to see, but it looked like—"
"Settle down." At the front of the room, Aizawa was pulling out what looked to be the ugliest sleeping bag Era had ever seen. It... matched his goggles. That was actually kind of adorable. "I'm not great at names, so Kayama will be offering her assistance today."
As if on cue, the door slid open and Midnight burst in. Era sighed, tuning out the commotion and thinking back on what Sero had said. Could that also have been a factor? She wasn't sure what had been visible through the smoke, but it seemed that she hadn't been as concealed as she'd have liked. The lack of offers didn't bother her at all—she didn't need a hero's approval, and she was just a transfer from General Studies after all. But if she hadn't received any because they had seen something...
No one had questioned her about her quirk, so clearly it wasn't dire. Perhaps they had just noticed some of her more... self-destructive tendencies. And her being carted off the field probably wasn't a good look either.
Again, Era felt Todoroki's gaze burning into her back. What the fuck did he want?
She didn't have time to think on it as Yaoyorozu pressed a whiteboard and marker into her hands. Wait, were they supposed to present these today? Publicly?
Fuck this. Era twisted around in her seat to see Hitoshi staring down at his own blank whiteboard.
"This is stupid," she said. He nodded absently.
"I can't believe you didn't get any offers. That's such bullshit," he muttered. Era rolled her eyes.
"I can't believe you're so worked up about it. You got offers, that's what matters. Any ideas for your hero name?"
"Yeah, a couple. I've been... thinking about it for a while," he admitted sheepishly. "Now that it comes down to it though I just... don't know."
"Hm. Kind of stupid to agonize over it now, though. I'm sure you can just change it later."
"Didn't you hear what Midnight said? Maybe we can't."
"That's probably just for daylight heroes. We're going underground, so what does it matter?"
"God, you sound more and more like Eraserhead everyday," muttered Shinsou, tapping his marker against his cheek. "What about you? Any ideas?"
"Not really."
"Nothing? Never thought of it?"
Era shrugged. "It's never come up. Hey, what about 'Brain Boy'."
Hitoshi snorted. "That's so fucking stupid, I have secondhand embarrassment from even hearing that."
"Great," said Era with a grin. "None of your ideas can be worse than that."
"Thanks. Real helpful. Maybe your name should just be 'Asshole'."
"I don't think that'd fly with the kids."
"I thought that we were underground so it doesn't matter."
"Touché," said Era with a hint of a smile. She settled back into her seat as a few students presented their names. Some were a little weird but there was nothing surprising. She had to admit that "Froppy" put a smile on her face. Briefly she considered following suit with Todoroki and Iida, just using her first name and being done with it but... like Sparrow, that just wasn't what Era was for. It didn't fit right; she didn't want to force a new meaning onto it.
Speaking of Iida, he looked... tired? Sad? Angry, even? Hard to tell, but he hadn't spoken to her all class and she normally would have expected him to once Midoriya and Uraraka had wandered over. Not to mention those two were occasionally shooting him some very concerned glances... was she missing something?
Focus. Again, again, and again she couldn't fucking focus. It wasn't her business if a classmate was having a bad day.
She needed a name. Fine. What was a name, anyway? In this case, a representation of who they wanted to be as a hero? The problem with that, of course, was that Era couldn't be a hero. That wasn't possible for her, this path could only end in ruin. Still, there were appearances to keep, so she might as well put some effort into it.
If she were a hero, hypothetically, in the ridiculous scenario where it actually did happen, what kind would she be? Era wanted to help people, obviously. Underground was the best place for her to do that with her skillset—dark alleys and shadowed streets, darting across moonlit rooftops.
Most of the other kids had made a clever play on their quirk, or their name. Era didn't want the latter, and the former seemed like a poor decision considering the current company—Aizawa might have been lying in his sleeping bag but Era was near certain he wasn't actually asleep.
Subtle, maybe? Her quirk was regeneration, an escape from death. There had to be a million subtle ways to make a play on that. She'd sketched up that quick mask design as a joke for fuck's sake. Haha, a skeleton. Because she was the walking dead, see? Ghoulish, but it appealed to her own sense of humor and it wasn't as if it gave much away.
She wasn't human. She was something past that, life bound to bones that should have crumbled into dust long ago. A ghost, a specter, straddling the line between life and death. Between good and evil as well, heroism and villainy. Era's world was painted in greys.
Standing at the podium, Era stared down at her own neat handwriting before turning the board towards the class. "The Relentless Hero: Wraith."
She only caught the tail-end of Midnight's grimace. Did the woman have a problem with this as well? Her tastes seemed quite particular, especially considering she let Deku slide by with no issue.
"Are you sure? Your quirk isn't very... ghostly," she said with a strained smile. Era glanced down at the board, then back up at Midnight.
"I'm sure. I think it's fun." A humorous reference to her undeath, as well as a nice tie-in with her potential costume. All-in-all it felt fitting.
Midnight's expression tightened strangely, and Era had a distinct feeling that she was missing something before Aizawa interjected. I knew he wasn't fucking sleeping.
"Just let her keep the name Nemuri," he said wearily. "You won't change her mind."
"...Right. Wraith it is, then!"
Era nodded and walked back to her seat, where Hitoshi was still scribbling away at his own board. She leaned over to see what he was writing.
"The Puppeteer Hero: Mindjack?"
He glanced up with a visible wince. "I don't know. Does it sound too... villainy?"
Before she could answer Bakugou marched up to the front of the class, slamming his board onto the podium. "King Explosion Murder."
Era snorted, turning away from Midnight's immediate rejection to raise a brow at Hitoshi. "I think you're fine."
He laughed, erasing some of the errant scribbles. "You know what, you're probably right. Besides, you basically named yourself ghost, so..."
"Wraith, not ghost. It's different. Wraith feels more... vengeful."
"Uh-huh. You're only proving my point."
"Go present your stupid name."
"Will do, boss."
Erm im gonna be more consistent now :D