A/N: Chapter one of a hopefully long series! I know the quirk isn’t like. Unique but idc. Hope you enjoy anyway! I want to try a slow burn, but I’m not very good at those.
Words: 2,093
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(Name) had been preparing for the practical exams for a long time now. Ever since he decided to attend U.A. really, which had been when he was eleven. Having seen the number one hero in action, All Might, it sparked his interest in becoming a hero. Not that it wasn't what he wanted to do, but it gave him the extra push to really try and do his best to get into U.A., not only the school All Might went to but also the most prestigious hero academy in Japan.
The writing exam was a piece of cake, memorizing stuff wasn’t all that hard. And maybe it helped that his dad stayed up late with him, quizzing him on anything that could possibly be on the test. He was sure he was going to pass that part, no doubt. Now came the hard part. The practical exam. (Name) had no idea what it could possibly be, but he knew it had to do with the use of your quirk. (Name) was confident in his quirk. It was great for long ranged attacks, and even defense. Unfortunately, using his quirk for a long time got him winded and lose his breath. And the damn thing compressing (Name)’s chest didn’t exactly help with that. Well, a small price to pay he supposed. He definitely didn’t need dysphoria eating at him along with the anxiety of what the exam could be.
Speaking of, (Name) snapped out of his thoughts, looking up at the big screen and at the Pro-Hero who was discussing what the exam was going to be. He tries to get the audience pumped, but to no avail. Though not that he could blame anyone, he was sure they were just as nervous as he was. With a small smile at another attempt to get everyone to shout, (Name) starts to pay attention. It was presented as a game as Preset Mic explained. Everyone was going to go through one of the made up cities and destroy these big mechanical machines, each one worth different points. He looked down at the pamphlet that was handed to him as he walked in, raising a brow as he spots four outlines of machines, as opposed to the three Present Mic was showing. (Name) was about to raise his hand to ask before someone beat him to it, turning back to look at him as he spoke. Wow, what an intense guy. (Name) tilted his head as he look farther back to see the green haired boy this glasses dude pointed out, smirking in amusement as he saw his face go red in embarrassment.
He spots the spiky blonde next to him, who did not look happy. Though, to be fair no one really look happy. But he looked angry. As (Name)’s turns back around he wonders if they could possibly be his classmates, wondering what their quirks could be. With a goodbye from the pro-hero Present Mic, everyone made their way outside to the buses that would take them to the testing site. Finding his bus he climbs in, noticing the spiky blonde sitting near the front, emitting an aura of ‘don’t sit with me’. Not wanting to get in a fight before the test, he sits a few seats behind him, leaning against the window as he think up of ways to destroy the machines. He just hoped he could get enough points before he couldn’t breathe anymore.
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Now here he was, standing outside the huge doors that would soon open and the test would begin. He was both excited and incredibly nervous, heart hammering in his chest as he stood and looked up at the huge double doors with a number printed on it. As his anxiety rose up he felt the wind pick up around him, hair flying in the currents and small rocks and dust swirling around his feet. (Name) bit his lip, shutting his eyes closed and taking deep breaths in, hands curled into fists. After a few seconds the air flowing around him stops and he feels a bit calmer.
A loud buzz snaps (Name)’s out of his calm, and he’s being pushed in between people as everyone runs inside. With a huff he waits till everyone had passed him, crouching down then jumping up, using wind to propel him high and push him farther than the crowd, using the wind to safely fall and roll on the ground.
Looking to the left he spots a few mech’s on the street, noticing someone already running toward them. With a smirk (Name) starts running as well, using wind to propel him forward and glide over the ground. As he passes him (Name) throws his hand back, a gust of wind knocking the other off his feet. Once again jumping in the air, (Name) sticks out his tongue out as he concentrated the wind around his arm. It spun around his arm incredibly fast, becoming a visible spear. The mech looks up at (Name) as he falls toward it, arm outstretched forward. Before the mech can knock him out of the air the spair (air spear, duh) cuts into its face, effectively putting it out of commission. The force of the hit knocks it over, and now (Name) is falling with it.
“Ohshitohshitohsi-” He repeats under his breath leaping up and off the mech as it hits the ground, barely managing to catch himself before he hits the ground too hard. Small scrapes littered his arms but he paid no mind, hearing the sounds of the other two mechs coming up behind him. (Name) turns around with a sinister grin, wind kicking up around him as he looked up at them. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, “This is going to be fun.” He says, and runs towards the mechs before him with a shout.
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Panting hard (Name) leans forward with his hands on his knees, wiping the sweat from his forehead as he tries to catch his breath. Fifty nine points. Not too bad. At least, if he were keeping track correctly. But it wasn’t enough, he needed more. There had to be more right? He was sure that there was more, in fact, he knew it. (Name) could see a few more in the street ahead of him, and though he was tempted to stop now, a competitive fire burned in his chest as he spotted someone barreling toward them. Taking a deep breath he leaps up, flying and destroying the mech they were about to destroy before they got the chance.
“Hey! That was mine!” An angry voice shouted, and he looked down at the spiky blonde haired dude from before. (Name) shrugged, sticking his tongue out at him.
“You were too slow!” He says and move to hop onto the next one, hearing a ‘oh no you don’t’ before hearing an explosion go off and the blonde come barreling after him. With a large explosion the mech is destroyed, flaming as it falls to the ground. (Name) huffs and moves quickly to the last one, collecting a pulverizing air around his fist and watch with a wide snarky grin as the blonde also moves toward it, palm already bursting with tiny explosions.
They both hit it at the same time, his explosion and (Name)’s air making a huge clash and absolutely destroying the head of the mech. The heat from the explosion blew back in (Name)’s face, causing him to shut his eyes and cover his face with his arms as the blast blew him back. Feeling like he was falling fast he open his eyes, looking to the side to see the ash blonde cursing as he tried to use his quirk again. (Name) could tell he overused his quirk, his arms were shaking and only small explosions came from his hands. Definitely not enough to break his fall.
(Name) was already out of breath as it was, but taking a deep breath he extends his arms out, creating a small current of air under the both of them and they both slowly descended to the ground. (Name) laughed as they reached the ground, standing up with a grin. “Well, that was fun. Didn’t think that was going to happen.” He says and turn to look at the boy next to him, only to be greeted with an angry glare and shaky arms.
“What the fuck?! Those were my kills and you know it ass wipe!” He shouts at (Name), grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him close to glower in his face.
(Name) raises his hands with a shrug, a small smug smile stretching out over his lips. “Sorry Porcupine! I totally didn’t see you there! And I’m sure you have plenty of points already. I take it all those burning mechs were your doing.” He says and grab onto his wrist, pulling the blondes hand off his shirt. “And don’t pull on my shirt. You’ll ruin it.” With a small glare he crosses his arms.
The blonde, now dubbed as ‘Porcupine’ by (Name), fumed. He could practically see the steam leave his ears. “Porcupine?! What kind of dumbass name is that?! And like hell you didn’t! I saw you look at me asshole!” He shouts loudly, hands coming up, still shaky, small explosions going off in his hands.
With a shrug (Name) looked behind the now fuming blonde, spotting everyone start to leave. Most with a few scratches and stuff, but none seriously injured. “Sorry not sorry Porcupine. Anyway, looks like we should get going! Bye!” He says and uses the wind around him to lift himself a few inches off the ground, gliding across the ground pretty fast past the blonde and back out. He couldn’t see him, but he knew by the faint angry cursing that the blonde was definitely angry. With a chuckle (Name) drops back down on his feet, putting a hand to his chest and taking deep and slow breaths. The binder felt even more constricting as he tried to gain back all the air he lost. Climbing back into the bus (Name) plops down onto his seat, leaning back against it as he thinks about the practical exam. As nerve wracking it was, it was also incredibly fun. Being able to go all out like that. (Name) knew when the ash blonde entered, able to hear his grumbled curses. Closing his eyes he smiled, excited to get home and tell his dad all about today.
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“I’m home old man!” (Name) shouted as he entered his house, sliding off his shoes by the door before slipping on the house slippers.
“Who you calling old?! I’m barely greying!” His father shouts as he enters the living room from the kitchen, a pink frilly apron on with pink oven mitts.
Spitting out a laugh (Name) tries to hold it back, not wanting to laugh himself into passing out. “W-what?? Why are you..wearing that?” He asks, voice coming out wheezy.
Rolling his eyes his dad crosses his arms, “WELL, I was making cookies to celebrate you not dying at the practical exams but now you’re not getting any.” He says with a pout, turning his head away with a huff.
(Name) gasps, laughter immediately stopping. Knowing his father he was making his favorite, (f/c). (Name) clasps his hands together, bowing slightly with a pleading expression. “I’m incredibly sorry dad! Please forgive me! You look manly in the pink apron. Very manly.” He says and looks up, seeing an amused expression on his dads face.
“Don’t grovel (Name), it doesn’t suit you. But fine. Go change, I know you must be struggling right now. It’s been a while.” He says, shooing his son away, “Go change before you hurt yourself.”
Nodding gratefully (Name) hurries upstairs, quick to take off his sweat soaked shirt and change into sweatpants. Peeling off the sweaty binder he uses his discarded shirt to wipe up the sweat. Feeling the familiar feelings of dysphoria creep up on him, he pulls on a baggy sweater, not bothering to put on a shirt under. (Name) takes a deep breath, repeating ‘i’m fine’ over and over in his head until he’s calm.
Walking back down his dad greets him with a plate of cookies and a quick side hug. “Now, tell me all about what happened right now. Hurry, hurry!” His dad rushed (Name) to sit on the couch, plate of cookies in (Name)’s lap as he tells him everything that happened.
