Finally, the Entrance Exam (took long enough)
Kiyomi woke up early the day of the exam, actually eating breakfast as she went over a few things in her weakest school subjects. Tsuki, Kei, and Ryotaro were still asleep, leaving just Mrs. Sakimoto and the twins to see her off.
Shinori and Shoyo had grown to like Kiyomi, and Kiyomi couldn’t figure out if this was a good thing or not. She liked the twins. They were quiet and respectful, but Kiyomi couldn’t get it out of her head that she was going to leave them eventually. Especially if Kiyomi kept up Shard.
It was a bitter thought.
Mrs. Sakimoto gave Kiyomi words of encouragement as she left, who nodded and smiled but didn’t say much.
A month. A whole month, Kiyomi had been staying with the Sakimotos. Her mom had officially gotten rid of her, her brother was dating, and Kiyomi was lying every single day to keep herself sane. The last time so much had happened in a month, Kiyomi’s father had left.
Flattening her skirt, Kiyomi started the lonely walk to the train station. Musutafu wasn’t too far, but it was easier to take a train there rather than walk. It was early, too early, so Kiyomi stopped at a vending machine to get herself some coffee.
The coffee helped Kiyomi wake up, but her anxiety started to emerge. She wasn’t going to pass. She was cheating. If she failed, it wasn't’ guaranteed she’d get in even though Ms. Ozaki and Mr. Hayato said it was. Why would U.A. even agree to a thing like that? It was a stupid compromise. Kiyomi should be in a detention center, or even prison, for her crimes, and yet she was still walking around.
It wasn’t fair, and it was getting on Kiyomi’s nerves. It should be fair. She didn’t deserve a second chance, especially because Kiyomi was taking advantage of it.
Kiyomi should never have been trusted.
She kicked at a rock on the street as she crushed her disposable coffee cup. Now she had to keep the crumpled cup with her until she got to the fucking school. Kiyomi wanted to throw it down an alley, just for the hell of it, but she restrained herself.
The lack of public trash cans in Japan was annoying.
The lack of people out on the streets at seven o’clock in the morning was annoying.
The way people trusted Kiyomi was annoying.
The uncomfortable-yet-familiar weight settled into Kiyomi’s chest as her fingers began to fiddle with the sharp creases of the ruined cup. Fuck. Kiyomi’s anxiety had been kept at bay for a while, and Kiyomi didn’t know why. Lately, it had just manifested in lost sleep and hypervigilance, so it had been a while since Kiyomi walked around feeling like her chest was about to crack and the inability to find the right texture on anything.
What would her dad say if he found her walking to U.A.?
Would he applaud her? Get mad at her? Who freaking knew? Right now, Kiyomi’s dad was off living his best corrupt Pro Hero life in America. He probably didn’t care about his kids or his ex-wife or what the hell they were doing. Kiyomi doubted her dad even knew of Kyoji’s quirk, and he’d been just as watchful as her.
Not that it meant much anyway. Miyoko didn’t know of Kyoji’s quirk, and everyone assumed him to be Quirkless. It even said he was Quirkless on the official paperwork.
How dumb were these people?
A car drove by, and Kiyomi watched it with hesitant eyes. What if the car pulled over and the people inside kidnapped her? What if they had a drive-by shooting? What if the car went over the curb and hit her? What if the car ran a light and got in an accident? What if the people inside were doing illegal substances?
Come on, Kiyomi. How fucking unrealistic can you get?
A person walked across the street, a man in a suit. Probably an office worker. What if he abused his family at home? What if his boss abused him? What if he were a victim of rape and no one knew? What if he was hurt and was too afraid to tell anyone? What if he wanted to hurt Kiyomi, or someone else? What type of malicious thoughts ran through that man’s head on a daily basis?
Again, unrealistic and judgemental. You’re a terrible person for assuming things, Kiyomi.
Heh. She was, wasn’t she? That was all she did, judge people based on their appearance and how they walked. She never asked them how their day was or bothered to get to know them. She just assumed they were terrible people, just like her.
No, stop. Kiyomi was wrong. This wasn’t true. It was her anxiety, wasn’t it? It was messing with her, making her think things that weren’t true.
It always did that. Why else was Kiyomi so weak? She was broken and ruined because her head didn’t work right.
How stupid.
Kiyomi took out her earbuds and plugged them into her phone. She quickly found a song, purposefully choosing one that would distract her enough from her mind.
Was the music too loud? Could other people hear it?
No, she was fine.
The music helped as Kiyomi waited for her train. She had to search for a new song every once in a while, when the shuffle would lead to a depressing song or something that Kiyomi deemed “too loud for public transport.” But the anxiety lessened as Kiyomi focused on the music, looking through new headlines as she leaned back against the train wall.
There wasn’t much Kiyomi didn’t already know, so she watched the city pass by as she skipped to the next song. She would have to take this train every day. It had nice views, at least, and Kiyomi liked taking public transportation. There were some positives, although very few.
The U.A. campus was a ten-minute walk from the train station, and Kiyomi was early. Rather than going straight to the campus, she got another coffee from a nearby vending machine, finding one of the rare public trash cans and throwing her crushed cup away.
Still listening to her music as she drank, Kiyomi scowled up at the U.A. building. It was too big. There were probably so many places for Kiyomi to get lost. She grimaced at the thought. A school too big, with four different departments spanning over three school years. How many kids was that?
And they still managed to keep a 1:20 ratio…
How big is their cafeteria? Does it have special catering? Is it rich and high end? How much will lunch cost, or will Mrs. Sakimoto keep making her lunches like she was?
Being so close to all those Pro Heroes…
Being so close to Eraserhead and his smug fucking face. Kiyomi hated it. She wanted to leave. At least she was going for General Education and not the godforsaken Hero course. How Hitoshi was going to put up with the underground hero that was constantly staring down their necks, Kiyomi didn’t know.
Speaking of Hitoshi, a familiar head of unbrushed purple hair came into view as Kiyomi loitered around the coffee vending machine. A small smile came to Kiyomi’s face at the sight of her exhausted, annoying friend.
“Shinosu.” Kiyomi kept her eyes on him as he got closer.
“Tamatsuki.” Hitoshi pushed her aside so he could slide some coins into the coffee vending machine and make his own selection. “I didn’t expect you to be here so early.”
There was a bench nearby, so Kiyomi sat down, crossing her legs. “I didn’t either. I wanted to be late so I didn’t have to see you.”
“Rude.” Hitoshi grabbed his coffee selection and sat down next to Kiyomi. “The train was earlier than I’d expected.”
“I was up early.” Having already drained her coffee, Kiyomi stood to get another, only to find she was out of money. “Couldn’t sleep.”
“Don’t make me make you sleep,” Hitoshi warned. “I’ve done it before and I’m prepared to do it again.”
Kiyomi let out an exaggerated sigh before sitting back down. “Says you, who looks like you get an hour of sleep a night.”
“Do as I say, not as I do.”
“I could always knock you by ramming into you,” Kiyomi offered.
“Yeah, and break my ribs while you’re at it.” Hitoshi sent Kiyomi a glance. “You’ve shattered more over the last month than you have in years. What are you scared of?”
A defensive growl left Kiyomi’s throat. “What do you think, idiot?” She jerked her head to the stupid school nearby. “I hate heroes, and then they put me in a school chock full of them and their wannabes. No offense. You don’t count.”
“None taken.” Aiming for the trash can sitting next to the vending machine, Hitoshi tossed his empty cup with casual skill. “What time do you plan to get up and get ready?”
“Uh, maybe eight-thirty? Eight-forty?” Kiyomi shrugged. “Some time that makes it look like I haven’t been here for longer than I should’ve been. You?”
“Earlier. The sooner I get in there, the sooner we can start, and the sooner we can get this all over with.” Hitoshi let out a sigh. “It’s boring, playing the long game. I’d rather just enter the Hero course now rather than wait.”
“They’ll transfer you in after the Sports Festival,” Kiyomi assured. “That’s, what, a month after the first day? Sooner? Who knows. I can’t remember.”
“You’ll still help me, right?”
Kiyomi isn’t dumb. Hitoshi could get through the damned Sports Festival by himself. He didn’t need Kiyomi’s help. He was only dragging her along to prove to her that she had the ability to become a hero.
Thing was, Kiyomi already knew that. Considering her shields could take on the force of a semi-truck driving at her full speed without so much as a scratch, Kiyomi knew that well.
She just chose to ignore it.
“Yeah.”
For a while, Kiyomi sat on the bench listening to music. Hitoshi kept his spot next to her, getting up around eight-ten and making his way to the school. Kiyomi stayed where she was for about a half hour longer, only getting up when she noticed a vaguely familiar head of green hair walking to the campus entrance.
Izuku Midoriya, Inko’s son.
Izuku Midoriya, Quirkless.
Interesting.
Izuku seemed to recognize Kiyomi too, because as she started to walk towards him, his eyes widened.
“You’re Midoriya,” Kiyomi stated as she took a place on the sidewalk next to him.
“Tamatsuki,” Izuku greeted. He didn’t look as flustered as last time, instead noticing the ankle monitor. “I heard about what happened.”
Kiyomi tensed.
The boy smiled at her. “Just so you know, my mom and I are on your side.”
A sigh of relief. “Finally. So, you’re going to U.A. too?”
“Yeah!” Izuku looked more nervous than excited, and Kiyomi didn’t blame him. “I applied for the Hero course.”
Huh. Even more interesting.
“I’m trying for Gen Ed,” Kiyomi explained. “Doesn’t the U.A. Hero course have a practical exam? Are you ready for that?”
“Uh, kind of.” Izuku seemed hesitant to reply. Kiyomi didn’t push further, saying her “good-bye and good luck” as she turned to find the exam hall.
Thank god things in this hellish school were labeled.
Kiyomi and Hitoshi sat nowhere near each other. They’d gone to two totally different middle schools, so that made sense. Glancing down at her card, she found her spot and hid her stuff away. If this exam didn’t have so many rules, she would’ve asked if she could listen to music, but Kiyomi didn’t chance it.
A boy was sitting next to Kiyomi that she recognized. He’d been in the class a few doors down from her. He played all sorts of sports and helped out a lot, though Kiyomi never bothered to learn his name. They nodded to each other but never said anything.
At nine o’clock, the exam hall doors shut and tests were distributed. The teacher proctoring the test wasn’t a hero, like obviously a few had thought, but a normal teacher. Anyone who’d done their research on the school would know that the General Education classes were taught by the best of the best, but not by heroes.
Kiyomi was grateful for this.
The test started, and a timer appeared on the huge screen behind the proctor. They had three hours. Kiyomi started immediately, going straight to the subjects she was least proficient in. If she got some of her weaker subjects done now, there would be less to worry about when Kiyomi’s brain was shot.
The science and Japanese portions were easier than Kiyomi had expected. She’d thought they’d be harder. Keep in mind, they were certainly difficult, and Kiyomi knew straight off the bat she didn’t get all of them right, but she’d still figured they’d challenge her more. Next was English, which was a small segment comparatively, and Kiyomi finished it quickly. Conversational English was always one of Kiyomi’s talents, considering that for years, her dad was more fluent in English than in Japanese. She was just lucky she’d kept practicing, even when she no longer had anyone to practice with.
After English was history, Kiyomi’s second-best subject. The dates were easy to memorize, and the few names that Kiyomi didn’t know were always easy to spot in multiple-choice questions. The math section takes the third longest, but Kiyomi was positive she got the most questions right in that one. She’d written out her work in orderly bunches, sectioning them off by number, and either guessing the nearest answer or having an exact answer.
The last part of the exam was an essay. It was hero-based, unsurprisingly, considering most of the kids going into the General Education course wouldn't make the cut of the Hero course. The question laid out a murder-mystery type story, where a civilian was mysteriously killed using a certain weapon/quirk and they were tasked with deducting what/who killed the civilian.
Kiyomi read the question three different times, underlining full sentences for clues. Eventually, she started writing, and her mind put the pieces together for her.
The man in the questions might have been a civilian, but he had some sort of quirk good for self-defense, as the wound was shallow and rushed, probably just barely enough to kill the guy. The person who’d killed him had used a quirk, probably one that sharpened a limb to a point. The killer would still have had blood on him, both from the resistant civilian and from his quirk, that most likely transferred blood onto his skin and/or clothes.
That was as far as Kiyomi got before the timer went off. She wanted to finish the essay, but resigned to setting her pencil down and glaring at the paper as the proctor started to go around and collect.
Kiyomi met Hitoshi outside the exam hall, who looked more tired than he had three hours previously.
“So…?”
“It was what I expected.” Hitoshi didn’t allude to his emotions in any way. With a glance, Kiyomi realized he was nervous. Making an executive decision, Kiyomi opened her mouth to say goodbye, but Hitoshi was already talking.
“I’m not meeting you on top of the flower building anymore.”
Disappointment rooted itself in Kiyomi’s head, but she understood. She was proud of Hitoshi. He was managing to give up the thing Kiyomi couldn’t live without. Vigilantism was like an addiction, and it was just as dangerous as one.
“Okay,” was all Kiyomi said as she left Hitoshi in the hallway, looking for a door outside.
Damn it. Shouldn’t she be angry or something? Well, she knew it was coming. Hitoshi wouldn’t shut up about how much he wanted to be an actual hero. Kiyomi could’ve seen it coming a mile away and she wasn’t surprised. She was more upset that she didn’t have a reaction.
Was there something wrong with her or what?
No, probably not. She was fine. There wouldn’t be any use getting upset over something so trivial. Let Hitoshi do what he wanted. Kiyomi wasn’t one to stop him.
As Kiyomi made her way outside, she heard a distant explosion. What the fuck? She followed one of the school’s many paved paths to try and find the source.
In the distance, several city-esque battlegrounds sat on the outskirts of the huge campus, barely down the hill. Kiyomi jogged over and found a tree to climb. Finding a limb that could support her, Kiyomi took out her earbuds and started listening to music as she watched the Hero course practical exam.
The one directly in front of her was exam area B, evident by the number distantly visible on the front wall. From her vantage point, Kiyomi could see robots and probably about a hundred teens trying to destroy them. Was that all the Hero course practical exam was? Destroying hunks of metal?
Talk about boring.
“Five minutes left!”
Present Mic! Kiyomi could recognize his voice from anywhere. He was down there? Proctoring? Amazing.
While Kiyomi couldn’t make out much, she could make out smoking piles of metal and a number of quirks being used in mediocre ways. One boy sped around faster than the average person, kicking at robots with a skill. Another created a bright blue laser, but it only lasted for a few moments. Some metal robots started to float into the air before crashing down.
Kiyomi was enraptured watching the destructive power of exam area B. So many of them would make formidable enemies. Kiyomi wanted to fight them, she realized with a jolt. That feeling was new. Normally she just wanted to punch a wall or a bad guy, but now… the raw power was fascinating.
“Two minutes left!” Present Mic called out over the area. Right. These were all Hero course kids. Kiyomi was going to end up fighting them either way, wasn’t she?
As if on cue, another huge cloud of dust erupted from the middle of the mock city. What the hell…?
A huge robot emerges, one Kiyomi could see clearly even from her distance. What the fuck, are they trying to kill the kids? She leaned forward on her tree branch, straining her eyes to see what was happening, but too many buildings were in the way and kids were streaming away from the monstrosity.
Suddenly, a kid jumped into the air, unnaturally high, and with a single punch, the robot stumbled back and broke down in an extravagant explosion.
What the hell just happened? Who the fuck was that kid? How did they do that?
Kiyomi wanted nothing more than to go into the exam area and talk to everyone. They probably had amazing ideas, going into the Hero course and all, but were probably too hero-centric to bother listening to Kiyomi’s idea about Hero Reform.
Stupid Hero course kids and their ideals.
With a small groan, Kiyomi jumped down from the tree and started back. Hopefully she caught the train in time.