Enough

Pops and Kai stood in the doorway, their imposing figures casting long shadows into the dimly lit room. Their eyes bore into Y/N as she stood motionless before them. Her face and arms were marred with fresh, raw burns, the angry red marks a brutal contrast against her skin. The acrid scent of singed flesh still lingered faintly in the air, but Y/N barely noticed. The pain, though sharp, had dulled to an ache she could ignore. Pain was a companion she had grown accustomed to over the years.

Their stares were heavy with something unspoken. Concern? Pity? Disappointment? She didn’t care to figure it out. She simply waved them off with a flick of her wrist, her expression unreadable. “It’s fine,” she said coldly, her voice devoid of any real emotion. “This is just how it is for quirkless people. We get looked down on. We get trampled. It’s nothing new.”

Pops’ face hardened. His expression shifted from concern to something resolute, his mouth set in a firm line. “I’m pulling you out of school,” he declared, his tone final. It wasn’t a suggestion or a question. It was a decision.

Kai, standing beside him with his usual air of disdain, crossed his arms and sneered. “I agree. It’s too dangerous for you. You’ve already caused enough trouble.”

Y/N’s jaw tightened, though her face remained impassive. Their overbearing protectiveness was as familiar to her as the pain etched into her skin. She didn’t want their sympathy. She didn’t want their protection. She had never asked for it. But there was no point in arguing. Pops and Kai had always decided what was best for her, whether she liked it or not.

She stayed silent, her body stiff as they continued to watch her. She could feel the hunger within her rising, the insatiable pull of her kagune stirring beneath the surface. It was always there, lurking just beneath her skin, waiting for the moment she would let it out. The wounds on her body would be gone by morning—her regenerative ability would see to that—but the hunger wouldn’t go away. It never did.

Without another word, she turned on her heel and strode out of the room, slamming the door to her bedroom behind her. She locked it out of habit, though she knew neither Pops nor Kai would come after her. They never pushed when she retreated. It was an unspoken agreement between them.

Alone in her room, she let out a slow breath, the tension in her shoulders easing only slightly. The hunger was unbearable now, a gnawing, primal need that demanded release. Her kagune ached to be set free, and she could no longer deny it.

She moved to the center of the room, standing still as she closed her eyes and let it happen. The transformation began with a familiar twinge in her back, a sensation like muscles tightening and pulling in directions they shouldn’t. Then came the release. Her kagune, a rinkaku, burst forth from her back, four thick, scaled tentacles that writhed and pulsed with a life of their own. The red, glistening scales shimmered faintly in the low light, their appearance both grotesque and beautiful.

She stretched the tentacles out, letting them twist and coil in the air. They moved with a rhythm she had mastered long ago, an extension of herself she had learned to control. The raw power of her kagune was intoxicating, and yet it was also a constant reminder of what she truly was—a ghoul masquerading in a world that feared and hated her kind.

Her chest rose and fell in steady breaths as she allowed herself to focus on the sensations. The hunger clawed at her insides, but she didn’t fear it anymore. She had learned to live with it, to manage it. This was her reality, no matter how much others wanted to deny or protect her from it.

The sudden chime of her phone startled her, breaking the stillness. Y/N’s eyes snapped open, and her kagune curled slightly behind her as she turned to the device. She didn’t expect anything important—perhaps another useless announcement from school or a message from someone trying to pry into her life. But curiosity won out, and she picked up the phone.

The screen lit up, displaying a simple message. The sender’s name made her heart skip a beat: *Izuku.*

“Thank you for saving me, Y/N,” the message read.

Her breath hitched. She hadn’t expected this. Of all the people she thought might reach out, Izuku Midoriya was the last person she imagined. She stared at the words, her mind replaying the moment she had stepped in to protect him at school. She hadn’t done it for recognition or gratitude. It had been instinctive, a decision made without thought. Seeing him cornered, helpless, had triggered something in her, something she couldn’t quite explain.

For a moment, a fleeting warmth spread through her chest. She wasn’t used to kindness—not directed at her. The world was cruel to people like her, and she had learned to return that cruelty with cold detachment. But this message, simple as it was, stirred something unfamiliar within her.

Her lips curled into a faint, hesitant smile. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to chip away at the numbness she carried every day. Maybe, just maybe, there was still a place for her in this world. A place where she wasn’t just an anomaly to be feared or a burden to be protected.

Her phone buzzed again, signaling another message. She didn’t look at it. The warmth of Izuku’s words was enough for now, and she didn’t want to tarnish the moment with whatever else might follow. Instead, she set the phone aside and turned her attention back to her kagune.

The tentacles coiled and uncoiled with practiced precision, their movements almost hypnotic. Y/N closed her eyes again, letting herself sink into the rhythm. The hunger was still there, gnawing at her, but for once, it didn’t feel so overwhelming. She had something else to focus on, something to hold onto.

In the quiet of her room, she let the tension drain from her body. The burns on her skin, the pain, the exhaustion—they all faded into the background. For now, she was just herself, alone but not entirely broken. The world outside her door was still as cruel and unyielding as ever, but in this moment, she felt a glimmer of something else. Something softer, quieter. 

And for now, that was enough.

True to his word, Pops pulled Y/N out of school the following week, and the house fell into a strange kind of quiet that Y/N hadn’t quite expected. It wasn’t the oppressive silence of tension or anger, but a more subtle, almost peaceful quiet. The kind that filled the space between the mundane tasks of everyday life, like the slow hum of the refrigerator or the distant sounds of birds chirping outside the window. It was the kind of quiet that she had been used to for years but never truly appreciated until now.

She’d settled into a new routine of online schooling without so much as a protest or a complaint. Pops, who had never truly known how to handle her silences, was cautious, careful not to push her too hard. He respected the distance she kept, knowing that Y/N would come around in her own time, even if that time felt like it was an eternity away. Kai, on the other hand, had less patience for it. He found her silence irritating, but he never voiced it. Instead, he pretended it didn’t bother him, but his actions always betrayed him. He was too used to being the center of attention, too used to his usual banter and teasing.

Every morning, Y/N would sit in the kitchen, her laptop open before her, textbooks and notes scattered around as she methodically worked through her online classes. The screen in front of her blurred into the background as her focus narrowed down to the lessons. The work was easy enough, something she could do without thinking, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of being trapped. The weight of her decisions, of the circumstances that led her here, hung around her neck like a heavy chain. But she didn’t let it show. She was getting better at keeping her emotions at bay, locking them away where no one could see them. 

Without fail, Kai would appear, usually a few minutes after she’d settled into her work. He didn’t say a word, just placed a steaming cup of coffee in front of her. It was always the same—dark, bold, and too strong for anyone else to drink. He never asked if she wanted it. He didn’t need to. Y/N hadn’t said a word in days, but that didn’t stop him. He just did it, as if it was a small daily ritual between them.

At first, Y/N ignored him, pretending not to notice. She drank the coffee out of habit, but never acknowledged his presence. It wasn’t that she disliked the coffee. In fact, she had come to enjoy it, its bitter richness filling her senses in a way that helped her focus. But she wasn’t ready to break the silence just yet, to make any effort to bridge the distance that had grown between them. It was easier to remain distant, to retreat inward and avoid the difficult emotions that always seemed to rise when they were in the same room.

Kai, for his part, didn’t seem bothered by it. He would stand there, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, his eyes following her as she sipped the coffee. There was always a faint smirk on his face, as if he had won some silent battle. He said nothing about her silence, but his presence lingered in the space between them, a constant reminder that he was there, waiting for her to crack, even if he never let on that he cared.

As the days passed, however, the tension between them began to shift. It wasn’t much, but it was there. Kai’s presence became less of an irritation and more of an odd comfort, even if he still kept his distance. He never touched her, never made any overt gestures of kindness, but somehow, it was enough. Y/N began to notice the little things. How Kai would always leave her coffee just the way she liked it, the strong brew she had come to rely on each morning. How he would hover in the background, his gaze always following her but never intrusive. It wasn’t the kind of attention she was used to, the kind that demanded something in return. It was just... there. Quiet. Steady.

One morning, as Y/N sat at the kitchen table, laptop open, notes scattered in front of her, she felt the familiar presence of Kai behind her. The coffee was already waiting on the counter beside her, and she reached for it without thinking, her fingers brushing the warm mug. But instead of walking away, Kai lingered. He crossed his arms and leaned against the counter, his eyes studying her with an intensity that made her feel uncomfortable in a way she couldn’t explain. The silence between them stretched on, stretching so far that it almost became a tangible thing, filling the space with its unspoken weight.

“You know,” Kai finally spoke, his voice breaking the silence, “if you keep giving Pops and me the silent treatment, you’re only going to make this house even more boring than it already is.”

Y/N didn’t look up from her screen, her focus unwavering. She didn’t feel the need to respond immediately, but she couldn’t ignore him entirely. There was something about the way he said it, his casual tone with just a hint of challenge. Her lips quirked upward ever so slightly.

“Maybe that’s the point,” she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. It wasn’t that she wanted to make the house more boring—it was just that silence was the only thing that felt manageable, the only thing she could control.

Kai raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening, as if he’d been waiting for this moment. “Oh, so she does still speak. I was starting to think you’d gone mute.”

Y/N’s eyes flicked toward him, narrowing just slightly as she took a sip of her coffee. She didn’t respond immediately, letting the silence hang between them for a moment longer. 

“I just don’t have anything to say to you,” she said, her tone flat, but there was a hint of something underneath. She couldn’t quite place it, but she knew it wasn’t the same indifference that had driven her silence for so long.

Kai’s smirk didn’t falter. He stood there, still leaning against the counter, arms crossed, as if he were the one in control. “Sure you don’t,” he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “But you’re still drinking the coffee I make you every morning. If you hated me that much, you’d refuse it.”

Y/N didn’t answer him, but she couldn’t stop the smallest smile from tugging at her lips. It was brief, almost imperceptible, but it was there. Kai had a way of getting under her skin, even if she didn’t want to admit it. Despite everything, he was still there, still showing up every morning with her coffee. There was something oddly comforting about it, this strange, unspoken connection they had developed without either of them realizing it.

The silence between them had shifted. It wasn’t filled with the same tension as before. It had become a quiet companionship, the kind that didn’t need words to be understood. Y/N couldn’t say when it had happened, when she had started to grow comfortable in this silence. But now, in this small, ordinary routine of coffee and silence, she realized that maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t as alone as she had felt before.

Y/N strode purposefully down the street, her hands shoved deep into the pockets of her coat. The cool breeze tugged at her hair, sending strands fluttering in every direction, but she barely noticed. Her mind was occupied with other thoughts—mainly, the irritation bubbling inside her. She muttered under her breath, more to herself than to anyone around her, “Kai and his coffee addiction… drinks the last cup and doesn’t even say anything. Unbelievable.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d done something like this. He had an irritating habit of finishing things without asking, and then acting as though nothing had happened. But today, Y/N wasn’t going to let him get away with it. No, today was about coffee—her coffee. And she wasn’t going to let Kai stop her from getting it. He had protested, of course. “You shouldn’t mingle with the rats,” he had said in his usual tone, dripping with disdain. Y/N rolled her eyes at the memory. He liked to think he could control every aspect of her life, but that wasn’t going to happen. Coffee was non-negotiable.

The store was only a few blocks away, so Y/N had decided to go alone. She didn’t need his constant commentary, especially when it came to something as simple as getting a cup of coffee. She was determined to get what she needed and return without too much trouble. But, as always, things didn’t go as planned.

A loud crash echoed through the street, followed by panicked screams. Y/N froze, instinctively scanning the area. Her heart began to race as she spotted the cause of the chaos. A villain, grotesque and towering, was rampaging through the street. His massive quirk was causing destruction, tearing chunks out of buildings and sending debris flying in all directions. The sight made her stomach churn, but she didn’t waste time panicking.

Without thinking, Y/N darted into an alley, her body moving on pure instinct. She wasn’t a hero, and she didn’t need to be. She wasn’t here to play the part of some caped crusader. The only thing that mattered right now was staying out of harm’s way and waiting for a professional to handle it. This was no time to be a hero.

The sounds of the fight raged in the background, but it didn’t take long for the situation to resolve itself. Y/N didn’t peek her head out of the alley, not wanting to attract any attention. Instead, she stayed hidden, her breathing shallow as she waited for the chaos to settle.

It wasn’t long before she heard the distinct sound of rushing air, followed by the faint rustle of wings. A golden blur swooped across the sky, and Y/N couldn’t help but glance up. The pro-hero Hawks descended with effortless grace, his wings spread wide like an angel of destruction. He moved fast—too fast for most to keep up with—and before Y/N could even process what was happening, the villain was disarmed. A flurry of precise feather strikes took down the criminal, and within moments, the street was quiet again.

The crowd that had gathered began to cheer, but Y/N didn’t feel a sense of relief. She felt… disappointed. She had hoped for Eraserhead—his no-nonsense style and calm demeanor would have been more reassuring. But instead, it was Hawks, and though he was undeniably skilled, she felt an inexplicable frustration settle in her chest. Why couldn’t it have been him? Eraserhead would’ve handled the situation differently—more efficiently, maybe even more gracefully. She felt a bitter twist in her gut at the thought.

With the crowd starting to disperse, Y/N moved to slip away unnoticed, hoping to avoid the lingering eyes of those around her. But luck wasn’t on her side today. As she tried to move through the crowd, Hawks’ sharp eyes locked onto her. He swooped down from above, his wings flaring as he landed with an almost too-casual grace, blocking her path.

“Hey there,” he said with a smooth, confident tone, flashing a grin that could’ve charmed anyone else. “You okay?”

Y/N sighed inwardly, trying to mask her irritation as she glanced up at him. “Fine,” she muttered, her voice flat. She tried to sidestep him, but Hawks didn’t move. Instead, he leaned casually against a nearby lamppost, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as his golden eyes narrowed slightly.

“Not even a thank you?” he teased, clearly expecting a show of gratitude. “I did just save your life, you know.”

Y/N’s expression didn’t change. “I didn’t ask you to,” she replied bluntly, her tone cold and dismissive.

Hawks blinked, his smirk faltering for a split second. He wasn’t used to being met with indifference. Most people would have been gushing over him by now, thanking him for saving their lives, maybe even asking for an autograph. But this girl… she seemed utterly unimpressed. And he was intrigued. His curiosity piqued, Hawks took a step closer, his gaze shifting from her face to the way she held herself. He wasn’t sure what it was, but something about her was… different.

“You’re a tough one, huh?” he said, his voice a little more playful now. “What’s your quirk?”

Y/N didn’t hesitate. “Quirkless,” she said flatly, brushing past him without sparing him another glance.

The word hung in the air between them, and Hawks stopped short, momentarily taken aback. He turned to watch her walk away, the wheels in his mind turning rapidly. “Quirkless, huh?” he repeated, his voice laced with curiosity. “Then how come you’re walking away like nothing happened?”

Y/N’s blood ran cold, her heart skipping a beat. She glanced down at her arms, her breath catching in her throat. The cuts and bruises she had sustained from the falling debris were already gone—healed, as though they had never been there at all. Her skin was smooth, unmarred by any injury.

Hawks’ wings fluttered as he closed the distance between them with surprising speed. His golden eyes locked onto hers, sharp and calculating as he stepped into her personal space. “You heal pretty fast for someone without a quirk,” he observed, his tone now filled with suspicion.

Y/N stiffened, her mind racing. She had to think quickly. There was no way she could let him discover anything about her. Not yet, anyway. She forced herself to remain calm, maintaining her indifferent expression. “Maybe I’m just lucky,” she said coolly, hoping he would buy the lie.

Hawks chuckled, though there was an edge to his voice now. “Lucky, huh? I don’t know… I’ve seen a lot of quirks, but I’ve also seen a lot of liars. You’re interesting, though. Not swooning, not scared, and definitely not normal.”

Y/N’s jaw tightened, but she refused to show any further reaction. “Look,” she said, her voice hardening, “I don’t know what you’re trying to say, but I’m not in the mood for games. Thanks for the save, but I’ve got somewhere to be.”

She pushed past him, her pulse pounding in her ears as she hurried to put as much distance between herself and the nosy hero. Hawks didn’t stop her this time, but she could feel his eyes on her, burning into her back as she walked away.

“See you around, Miss Quirkless,” he called after her, his voice light, but there was something else in it—something curious, something that told Y/N that he wasn’t going to let this go.

She didn’t look back. Instead, she kept walking, her mind racing. Great. Just what I needed. A nosy hero.

Y/N sighed in relief as she pushed open the front door, the weight of the coffee bags in her arms pulling at her tired muscles. She had made it through the chaotic street and managed to grab her much-needed fix of caffeine, something she had promised herself earlier would not be left unfinished. Kicking off her shoes and dropping her bags by the door, she trudged into the living room where Kai was seated, absorbed in flipping through some medical journals. Without a second thought, she flopped down onto the couch, her legs stretched out in front of her, her feet landing across his lap.

Kai glanced down at her feet, a flicker of mild irritation crossing his face, but he didn’t say anything. He had long since gotten used to her casual physicality. He’d once been more wary, but over time, she had worn down his defenses. He wasn’t the type to show affection openly, but Y/N wasn’t a threat to him. She was clean, quirkless, and hadn’t shown any inclination to harm him. Even her constant presence had slowly worn away at his earlier boundaries. Now, it was just another normal day with her sprawled out on the couch, casually taking up space without a care in the world.

“You were gone longer than expected,” he said, raising an eyebrow as he scanned her relaxed posture. “What happened?”

Y/N groaned and leaned her head back against the couch cushions, closing her eyes as if to shut out the world for a moment. “A villain attack,” she muttered, stretching her arms over her head in a languid motion. “Hawks showed up and made it worse.”

Kai’s eyes narrowed slightly at the mention of the hero. “Hawks? The Number Three hero?” His tone shifted, a subtle edge to it, as if he had already formed an opinion of the hero based solely on reputation. 

Y/N didn’t bother to open her eyes as she spoke, her voice dripping with annoyance. “Yeah. Annoying birdman with no concept of personal space. He saved me, but I didn’t ask him to. Then he had the audacity to question me about my so-called ‘quirk.’ Kept getting in my face like I owed him something.”

Kai’s lips curled into a faint smirk, his eyes twinkling with approval. “Sounds like you’re finally learning. Heroes are pests.”

Y/N snorted, amused. “Don’t get too excited. I still like Eraserhead.”

Kai’s smirk vanished instantly, replaced by a look of mild irritation. His fingers paused mid-turn of his journal as he looked up at her. “If only I could get you to stop idolizing that underground rat, things would be perfect.”

Y/N grinned at his frustration. “Not happening,” she said, her voice playful, teasing. “But nice try, Kai.” She could never resist poking fun at him, especially when it was clear that he had such strong opinions about heroes. But there was something in her words, a lingering affection that spoke to the years they had spent together—years in which she had learned to value the complexities of their relationship, even if they didn't always agree.

Kai let out a quiet huff, something between a laugh and a sigh, and returned to his journal. Y/N, meanwhile, leaned over the coffee table to grab her phone, scrolling through the familiar notifications until she found what she was looking for. Her thumb hovered over the screen for a moment, then she tapped the name of the person she knew would always be up for a conversation. Izuku Midoriya, the ever-enthusiastic, optimistic green-haired boy from when she went to in person school.

Y/N: Guess who I ran into today? Hawks. Annoying, right?

It didn’t take long for a reply to come through.

Izuku: Hawks?! Did you get an autograph? He’s so cool!

Y/N rolled her eyes and smirked to herself as she typed a response.

Y/N: No way. He was nosy and wouldn’t stop talking. I don’t get the hype.

Izuku: Come on, Y/N! You can’t deny he’s amazing. What happened? Are you okay?

Y/N smiled to herself at the genuine concern in his message. She could almost hear his voice in her head, the same earnest tone he always used when talking about heroes. She appreciated it, even if she didn’t share his enthusiasm for the same heroes.

Y/N: I’m fine. A little debris, but nothing I can’t handle. I’ll tell you more later. Still coming over for that study session tomorrow?

Izuku: Of course! I’ll bring my notes.

Y/N smiled faintly at the screen as she typed her last message.

Y/N: Cool. See you then, nerd.

She put her phone down and leaned back into the couch, glancing at Kai, who was still absorbed in his work. It was strange, how much of a presence he had in her life now. Despite their differences, their shared history made moments like these feel... comfortable. She knew he disliked heroes, especially the ones who acted as if they were above the rest of society, but he never made her feel lesser for being quirkless. In fact, it was one of the things she appreciated most about him. Kai saw her for who she was, not for what she lacked. That kind of acceptance was rare in a world where quirks were everything.

She watched him for a moment, noting how his brow furrowed slightly in concentration as he read. There were moments when she forgot that, despite his cynical outlook on life, Kai had a soft spot—a quiet understanding of her that no one else had ever really matched. It was a subtle connection, but it was there, and that was enough for her.

Y/N’s thoughts wandered back to Hawks, his inquisitive eyes lingering in her mind. That last exchange with him had unsettled her more than she cared to admit. She had been quick to dismiss him, but there was something about the way he had looked at her—something knowing, almost as if he had seen through her act. He’d been too interested in her, too persistent with his questions about her lack of a quirk. She wasn’t sure what to make of it. Maybe it was nothing, but she had a feeling he wasn’t going to let it go. And that didn’t sit well with her.

Her fingers absentmindedly tapped against the armrest of the couch as she pushed the thoughts of Hawks aside. For now, everything was fine. She had coffee. She had her space. And she had people she could rely on, people like Izuku, who reminded her of the simpler joys in life. Tomorrow’s study session with him would be a nice break from all the chaos of the world outside.

With a quiet sigh, Y/N leaned back further into the couch, her legs still resting across Kai’s lap, the rhythm of his journal turning pages the only sound in the room. For a brief moment, everything felt calm. But in the back of her mind, she knew that sooner or later, things would change. They always did. But for now, she had coffee—and that was enough to face whatever came next.

Y/N sat cross-legged on the living room floor, surrounded by a chaotic mix of textbooks, notebooks, and pens. The dim light of the late afternoon filtered through the windows, casting long shadows on the floor and giving the room a cozy, quiet feel. She was flipping through a textbook absentmindedly, her mind not entirely on the pages in front of her. Instead, her attention kept drifting to the boy across from her, Izuku Midoriya, who was scribbling furiously in his own notebook. His green eyes were focused with an intensity that made her chuckle softly.

“You’re really going all out, aren’t you?” she said, her voice teasing as she leaned back on her hands and watched him.

Izuku looked up from his notebook, his expression sheepish as he paused his writing. “Of course!” he replied with an earnest grin, pushing his unruly hair out of his eyes. “UA College is super competitive. I can’t leave anything to chance.”

Y/N smirked, flicking through the pages of her own book without really reading. “I still can’t believe you’re aiming for UA. You’re crazy, nerd.”

Izuku laughed nervously, scratching the back of his head. “Well, uh… I actually have a better chance now.” His voice dropped slightly, almost like he was sharing a secret.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his sudden shift in tone. She set her book down, giving him her full attention. “Oh? And why’s that?”

Izuku hesitated for a moment, glancing around as if making sure no one else was listening. Then, leaning in a little closer, he lowered his voice and said, “I, uh… I have a quirk now.”

Y/N’s eyebrow shot up higher, her curiosity piqued. She tilted her head, a mix of surprise and skepticism flooding her thoughts. “You have a quirk now? Since when?”

Izuku rubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks flushing slightly. “Since recently,” he admitted, his voice uncertain. “It’s… complicated. But I can finally aim for UA without feeling like I don’t belong. I can be a hero now.”

The enthusiasm in his voice was palpable, but Y/N felt a flicker of suspicion. She knew Izuku’s story well—the boy who had once been quirkless, desperate to become a hero like those he admired. His determination had always been inspiring, and now, with a quirk of his own, it seemed like he could finally reach his goal. But there was something about the way he said it that made her wary. How did he suddenly acquire a quirk? 

She wanted to ask more questions, to probe deeper into the mystery, but she held her tongue. It wasn’t her place to pry, especially if Izuku didn’t want to share. She didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, not when he was so clearly excited about this new chapter in his life.

“Well, good for you,” she said instead, offering a genuine smile as she leaned forward to grab her pen. “You’ve always wanted this, so I’m happy for you.”

Izuku beamed at her, his smile wide and genuine. “Thanks, Y/N. It means a lot.” His eyes sparkled with a new sense of confidence, the same confidence she had always admired in him, even when he had nothing but determination and dreams. He had a way of making her feel like anything was possible, even if her own path felt uncertain.

The two fell into a comfortable silence, the soft scratching of pens against paper filling the room. Y/N tried to focus on her notes, but her mind kept wandering back to Izuku’s words. A quirk. The thought of it lingered in her mind, swirling with the same old questions she’d had for years. How had he gotten one? Was it something he’d inherited, or had he somehow… earned it? She wasn’t sure, but she didn’t feel right asking. For now, it was enough to let him have his moment. It was his achievement, after all.

After a while, Izuku broke the silence, his voice cutting through her thoughts. “So… where are you planning to go to college?” he asked, glancing up at her with curiosity. His notebook was closed now, and he was resting his chin on his hand, waiting for her answer.

Y/N paused, her pen hovering over her notebook as the question hung in the air. She hadn’t given much thought to her future. She’d been too focused on the present, on getting through each day without drawing too much attention to herself. College seemed like an afterthought, a vague idea she wasn’t sure she could ever achieve. She shrugged casually, trying to hide the unease that crept up her spine. “I don’t know yet,” she said, forcing a nonchalant tone. “I haven’t really thought about it.”

Izuku frowned, clearly not satisfied with her answer. “You haven’t thought about it? Y/N, you’re super smart. You could get into a great school. Have you thought about applying to UA?”

Her hand froze, the pen stilling in midair. Her heart skipped a beat at the mention of UA. The prestigious school for heroes, the one place Kai would never let her near. She thought of him immediately, his image flashing in her mind. The idea of attending UA was something she had never allowed herself to seriously consider. Kai hated heroes with a passion, and UA represented everything he despised. It was a dream she couldn’t afford to entertain, no matter how much Izuku’s words tugged at her heart.

She forced a laugh, trying to brush off his suggestion. “Me? At UA? That’s ridiculous,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m quirkless, remember? What would I even do there?”

Izuku didn’t hesitate. He shook his head vehemently, his voice full of conviction. “Y/N, you’re not just quirkless—you’re talented, hardworking, and capable. You could study hero support, hero analysis, or anything else you wanted. UA isn’t just for people with flashy quirks. They value intelligence and determination too.”

Her chest tightened at his words, and she gave him a small, weak smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “I don’t know, Izuku. I’ll think about it, okay?”

Izuku leaned forward, his gaze earnest and filled with belief. “Promise me you’ll at least consider it,” he said, his voice quiet but firm. “You’re way too amazing to let your potential go to waste.”

“Fine, fine,” she said, holding up her hands in mock surrender. “I’ll consider it. Happy?”

Izuku’s face lit up with a grin, his excitement contagious. “Very.”

But as the moment passed and Izuku returned to his notes, Y/N’s smile faded. She couldn’t shake the weight of his words, and the idea of UA—the heroes, the training, the opportunities—kept tugging at her. She couldn’t deny that a part of her wanted to believe in it, to imagine a future where she didn’t have to hide her true potential. But the other part, the part that had grown up with Kai’s ideals and fears, warned her that it wasn’t a place for someone like her.

Her thoughts wandered back to Kai, to how furious he would be if she even considered applying to UA. The thought of disappointing him, of going against everything he stood for, made her chest ache. But at the same time, Izuku’s words lingered in her mind. Could she really have a place at UA? Could she ever live in a world where heroes weren’t her enemy?

She pushed the thought aside, focusing on the boy in front of her, who was still absorbed in his studies, oblivious to the internal battle taking place within her. For now, she’d stick to helping Izuku with his dream, even if hers felt impossibly out of reach.

Y/N’s feet pounded against the pavement, each step syncing with her steady breath. The rhythmic pounding of her sneakers was a familiar sound, one that had been a constant companion for as long as she could remember. Running had always been one of Pops’ rules. He’d insisted that it helped clear her mind and keep her grounded, especially when the world felt too heavy. Over the years, it had become second nature. It was her time to think, to process, to be alone with her thoughts. And today, she needed that more than ever.

Her mind was a swirl of conflicting emotions. Izuku’s words about applying to UA echoed in her mind. She could still hear the earnestness in his voice, his belief in her abilities despite her quirklessness. It felt strange, hearing him talk about it like it was something within her reach. But then, there was the ever-present weight of Kai’s expectations, his deep disdain for heroes, and the fear of what would happen if she ever considered stepping into their world. The tug-of-war between those two forces was starting to feel suffocating, and she needed the clarity that running had always given her.

But just as she was beginning to lose herself in the rhythm of her run, a familiar sound broke through the quiet: the rush of wind as something—or someone—flew overhead. Y/N didn’t even need to look up to know who it was. She groaned inwardly and resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

“Morning, Miss Quirkless,” Hawks called, his voice dripping with that ever-present smugness. 

Y/N shot him a quick glance but didn’t slow her pace. “Don’t you have a rooftop to perch on somewhere?” she shot back, the sarcasm lacing her words.

“Harsh,” Hawks replied, his voice laced with mock offense. Y/N could almost hear the smirk in his tone as he glided effortlessly beside her, his wings cutting through the air with a grace that she couldn’t deny. “Just trying to make conversation. Running in silence gets boring, doesn’t it?”

“Not really,” she muttered, her focus shifting back to her run. “It’s actually peaceful when you’re not around.”

Hawks chuckled, unfazed by her bluntness. “Ouch. You’re hurting my feelings, you know that?”

Y/N didn’t reply. She wasn’t in the mood for his games. Her mind was too full, too tangled with her own thoughts. But Hawks wasn’t going to let up. He kept pace with her, his wings beating the air in a steady rhythm, his golden eyes fixed on her as if trying to decipher a puzzle.

“So,” he began again, as if the conversation had never stopped, “any big plans for the future? College? Career? Gonna save the world?”

Y/N furrowed her brow, casting him a suspicious glance. She didn’t understand why he was suddenly so interested in her life. “Why do you care?” she asked, her tone more guarded than she intended.

Hawks smirked. “Call it professional curiosity. You’re an interesting one, Miss Quirkless. I couldn’t help but do a little digging.”

Y/N’s steps faltered for a split second, but she quickly recovered, her heart beginning to race for an entirely different reason. “What?” she asked, her voice sharp.

Hawks wasn’t deterred by her sudden change in pace. “Relax,” he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I just did a background check. Pretty standard stuff, really. You know, who’s this mysterious girl with a knack for getting caught up in villain attacks?”

Y/N’s pace slowed, and she stopped altogether, her body tensing. She turned to face him, her eyes narrowing. “And?” she demanded, her voice cold now.

Hawks landed effortlessly on the pavement, folding his wings behind him. His usual playful demeanor faded for a moment, replaced by something more serious, almost calculating. “And I found next to nothing,” he said, his tone quieter now. “No school records except for some online program, no extracurriculars, no job history. You’re practically a ghost.”

Y/N’s jaw tightened as she crossed her arms defensively. “Maybe I just like my privacy,” she said, trying to keep her cool.

“Maybe,” Hawks replied, tilting his head as he studied her. “Or maybe there’s more to you than meets the eye.”

The words hung in the air between them, and Y/N’s stomach dropped. She knew he wasn’t just making idle conversation anymore. There was something in the way he looked at her, something that felt like he was waiting for her to slip up, to reveal more than she intended.

She clenched her fists at her sides, willing herself to stay calm. She couldn’t let him get under her skin. He might be a hero, but that didn’t mean he had any right to dig into her life, to pry into things that were none of his business. “Is there a point to this, or are you just here to be annoying?” she asked, her voice laced with frustration.

Hawks grinned, his usual cocky attitude returning. “Just here to be annoying,” he admitted, his voice light again. “But seriously, you’re an enigma, Miss Quirkless. You’ve got this vibe about you—like you’re hiding something big. It’s… intriguing.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes, her lips curling into a thin line. “Well, sorry to disappoint, but I’m just a boring, quirkless nobody,” she said, the sarcasm thick in her voice.

“Sure,” Hawks said, clearly unconvinced. He stepped closer, his golden eyes narrowing slightly as he observed her. “But if you ever decide to stop being boring, let me know. I’m good at keeping secrets.”

Y/N’s glare hardened, but she forced herself to stay composed. She didn’t trust him, not even a little. “I’ll keep that in mind,” she said flatly, turning her back on him and continuing her run, pushing herself forward with renewed determination.

“See you around, Miss Quirkless!” Hawks called as he lifted off the ground, his wings beating the air with a force that sent a gust of wind her way.

Y/N watched him fly off, her jaw still clenched in irritation. The encounter had left her feeling uneasy, her mind racing with questions. How much had he actually learned about her? Or was he just fishing for information? Either way, she didn’t like the way he seemed to be poking around in her life. It felt invasive, uncomfortable—and she didn’t like feeling vulnerable. 

She shook her head and forced herself to run harder, focusing on the path ahead, trying to block out the thoughts swirling in her mind. The last thing she needed was a nosy hero getting too close to her secrets. Especially one like Hawks, who seemed to find everything about her fascinating. She had enough to worry about already, and the last thing she needed was him sniffing around her life, trying to uncover something she wasn’t ready to share.

As her feet hit the pavement again, her heart rate picking up, she pushed herself to go faster, to outrun the unease that had settled in her chest. The wind rushed past her ears, and for a moment, it was just her and the road beneath her feet. She could deal with everything else later, but for now, she needed the release—she needed to outrun the feeling that Hawks had planted inside her, a feeling that told her she was no longer as invisible as she wanted to be.

For the next six months, Hawks made an unexpected habit of joining Y/N on her morning runs. At first, he just hovered beside her, his wings cutting through the air with ease as she focused on the rhythm of her footsteps. She would pretend not to notice, trying to drown out his presence, but he didn’t let up. Every day, without fail, he was there—just a little too close, his golden eyes always watching her with that knowing smirk.

Over time, something shifted. Their exchanges became less annoying, more comfortable, though she’d never admit it. Hawks stopped talking so much, just keeping pace with her in silence, as if he was content with the space between them. Y/N found herself adjusting to his company. She no longer felt the need to outrun him, but instead started running beside him—sometimes in silence, sometimes with brief moments of conversation. 

As the months passed, those runs became something of a ritual. A small, unexpected constant in her life, as steady and reliable as her own breathing. Hawks didn’t ask questions, didn’t push her to open up. He simply ran alongside her, and somehow, that was enough.