snowdrop (BNHA OC)
“Boring,” she murmurs.
Shouto nods and they exchange an exasperated look. Father’s tests were harder than this on a good day.
Shizue is called for a 50-metre dash. She ices over the racetrack and makes ice skates out of her shoes before using her Quirk to propel herself faster. She sees Shouto do something similar on her right and bites her lip to keep herself from commenting on how much faster he could have been if he’d used fire to augment his speed. She shrugs instead. At least her brother is not stubborn enough to refuse to melt the ice when they're done. Shizue glances briefly at the short kid with green hair who’s been muttering about everyone’s Quirks while he hasn’t tried to use his once. She looks away just as fast. She doesn’t want to make him uncomfortable.
She wonders if he’s Quirkless. He’s wearing Primordial shoes but that doesn’t mean much. It’s not a reliable way to know. She hopes he is. She likes the idea of a Quirkless hero. Her father would hate it too, which is always a bonus. And Natsuo would be thrilled.
She sighs, touching her forehead. Her body’s temperature is starting to rise. Shizue doesn’t think this test will be enough to make her overheat, but it’s better to be cautious.
Unlike her older brother of ten months, she inherited little of the Quirk characteristics of her father. Shouto envies her fine control over ice, she wishes she wasn’t so intimately familiar with the thermal shock that comes from wielding absolute zero with a boiling body. Still, she doesn’t complain. At least it doesn’t hurt her like his own fire hurt Touya. She pushes the thought out of her mind as quickly as it came. Her iced over heart can’t afford any cracks today.
Shizue throws her ball, her last test of the day. She takes inspiration from the creation girl she recognises from hero galas they attended and makes a mechanical projectile launcher out of her ice. The contraption is cold against her protective gloves, but she doesn’t mind it. She waits until the teacher announces her score then drops the ice’s temperature to make it crack. It shatters at her feet. She glances at her results. Ah. She did slightly worse than Shouto. She’ll be just behind him on the rankings, she calculates with another sigh. That’s good. It wouldn’t do to outshine Father’s perfect creation. She’s only his sparring partner. She’s not meant to do better.
Shouto’s expression closes off as he returns to her like he can read her thoughts. She doesn’t acknowledge it, instead focusing on making sure the two low buns holding up her hair are still neat. She smoothes down the two white strands of hair she let loose at the front and watches her future classmates do their best not to be expelled. She misses Natsuo.
The green haired kid is the last to throw. Shizue is disappointed to find out he has a Quirk after all, though the thing seems wholly unpractical.
“Feels like All Might’s power,” says Shouto, his eyes fixed on the boy as their professor offers him a maniacal grin and announces no one is getting expelled.
“Hm. Not suited to his body though. He’s using it wrong.”
Her brother purses his lips. He admires the Number One hero and has grown accustomed to their father’s brute force. He doesn’t see anything wrong with a five foot five guy imitating All Might.
“I’m disappointed he’s not Quirkless,” she adds under her breath.
“Huh?”
The few classmates close to them stop and stare, the green-haired kid included.
Ah. She said that too loudly. Might as well own up to it.
“I wanted to see a Quirkless hero,” she explains bluntly.
She sees some of them exchange disbelieving looks and tries to memorise their faces. The pervy kid with bubbles on his head, the tall blond with a tail and the girl with long ears. Her favourite brother would be happy if she kicked their asses. He’d prefer doing it himself to prove a point, of course, but Natsuo’s a little too old to fight fifteen-year-olds. She notices the teacher —she needs to remember his name, she notes to herself— is watching too. The mumbling kid’s reaction is interesting though. His eyes are wide with shock.
“Do you really think someone Quirkless can be a hero?” he asks, his voice a little wobbly.
She frowns.
“Obviously.”
“Shizue,” warns Shouto. “You know what Father said.”
She sighs. “Hai, hai.”
She turns away to go in direction of the locker room, though not before she sees her teacher give her an approving nod, his eyes sharp. She changes mechanically. The girls in the locker room try to draw her into their conversations by asking a few questions about herself. She answers politely —yes, Endeavor is her father, yes, she was homeschooled, no, Shouto and her aren’t twins, no, they don’t have the same Quirk— but excuses herself quickly.
Sure enough, her brother is waiting by the door. Green Hair comes out too, and he waves at them with a shy smile. Shizue nods back with a small quirk of her lips.
Shouto’s manners leave much to be desired, as always.
“Make an effort,” she murmurs. “Those people will be with us for three years.”
He scoffs. “If they don’t get expelled before that. They’re weak.”
“Hm.” She wants to tell him he’s acting like their father, but she knows better. “They’re here to learn. They just don’t have the,” her lip curls in disgust, “luxury of having a hero father to pull them ahead.”
The look they exchange is commiserating. There’s nothing lucky about their situation.
After homeroom, classes start slow. Shouto and Shizue try to adjust to the animated walls of UA high school. Some things leave them perplexed and they often have to rely on texting Natsuo to understand things like class schedules, the cafeteria or even school clubs. He’d studied at Somei Academy, he had more experience. Their lost expressions are interpreted as standoffish and they are mostly left alone. Shouto is pleased to have the option to order cold soba at the cafeteria, Shizue goes for spicy ramen. The creation girl —Yaoyorozu Momo— makes small talk with Shizue at some point and suggests study sessions. She agrees, tentatively.
At the end of the day, while waiting for their chauffeur, Shouto asks her.
“Do you want to make friends?”
“Not particularly. But Natsuo-nii said I should try.”
“And you do everything he says,” he sighs.
“He tends to have good advice.”
Shouto hums but does not reply. As the driver arrives, Shizue sees the green-haired kid speak to the blond who reminds her too much of father for the comparison to be comfortable in any way. She sits at the back of the car and lowers the tinted window to observe them.
“That blond…” She takes off her gloves as she speaks.
“Bakugou?”
She nods. Her brother is way better with names. “I don’t like him.”
Shouto looks out her window, trying to see what she sees. Their classmate is cowering under the other’s scowl, his hands raised in a placating gesture.
“Don’t, please! I’m sorry, I’m sorry—”
“Quiet.”
Her older brother makes a noise of comprehension, his expression twisting. He takes her hand in his from the fire side and squeezes. Shizue pulls up the window and gestures at their chauffeur to leave.
Frost creeps up on their joined hands.