⊱ ──────ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ────── ⊰

"I FORGOT TO ADD," AIZAWA called as Y/N tested the weight of the ball in her hand. "The student with the lowest score at the end of this Quirk Apprehension Test - and yes, it's a test - will be expelled."

The ball rolled off her loosely curled fingers and hit the ground. 

"This is UA," the black-haired teacher shrugged. "Only for the best of the best."

Y/N grumbled a few choice curses as she bent to pick up the ball again, closing her eyes and trying to concentrate amongst the quiet mumbling from behind her.

Imagining a white-haired brush painting her mindscape black, until everything was dark and quiet and calm.

Reaching into herself to try controlling her Quirk was like imagining a rope extending from her core, and pulling on it as hard as she could. Technically, telekinesis was limitless - the amount of strength or power generated depended on the endurance of the user.

Y/N's Quirk control was awful. 

She hurled the ball as far up and forwards as she could, imagining a massive shove of power flying from her fingers and propelling the ball away from her.

Instantly, pain ripped through her body, prompting her to drop to her knees. Y/N took a quick internal inventory (she'd become very good at those with a great deal of practice): an ache in her core from overusing her Quirk, nothing serious ... a headache (well, that was familiar territory), and ...

"Shit," Y/N cursed under her breath, one of her hands flying to her chest as a stabbing throb pulsated there, like someone playing the drums on her chest. With knives. 

"What are you doing, Y/L/N?" Aizawa's words weren't so much a question as a bored statement. 

"Internally bleeding," she replied off-handedly, a loose smile hanging off her lips as a rush of adrenaline hit her. "Fun fact - did you know that patients suffering internal bleeding will die within at least six hours if not immediately treated?"

The looks on her classmates faces (from where she could see) where mixtures of shock (a red-and-white-haired boy someone had said was Todoroki), concern (Kaminari and Midoriya) and vague amusement (Bakugo. Who else?), Aizawa's expression being a combination of all three.

"I'll call Recovery Girl," he announced, when the reaction conversations died down. "Y/L/N - I expected more control of a UA student. I'm disappointed."

He threw the device he'd been using to measure the ball throws in front of her, and Y/N took one look at the number and wanted to throw it back.

856.3 metres. He was disappointed?

But his anger was probably valid - Y/N had overused her Quirk yet again. If she continued like that ...

Long speeches from an uncountable number of doctors and specialists flashed through her head, and she really didn't need to hear their words again.

She tried to block them out, squeezing her eyes closed as the sound of Aizawa's footsteps gradually quietened.

"Would you look at that?"

Y/N raised her head as well as she could, feeling another stab of pain through her chest.

Bakugo's eyes were alight with malice and triumph, but his hands told a different story. Clenched into fists so tight that the shape of his arms was evident and hanging stiff by his sides.

"Poor new girl Y/L/N over-exerted herself trying to beat me," he continued. 

"I've been going to this school for literally an hour, and so have you," she grumbled. "And I did beat you."

His eyes narrowed. "I can't stand you fucking extras, you know, but you're on another level. Mark it down, Y/L/N - you're weak. And I don't show niceties to weaklings."

Y/N was curled over with her head almost on the ground from the pain, but she managed to raise her hand and make a very rude gesture that had Bakugo yelling obscenities and the air beginning to smell like fire from explosions. 

His hand swung through the air before her, and Y/N squinted at it, barely managing to halt it mid-swing in front of her face with a twitch of her fingers.

A whole new level of pain exploded within her, and her chest felt like it was being cracked open with a scalpel.

"Y/L/N! BAKUGO!"

Aizawa's voice again - sounding unbelievably angry.

Someone pulled Bakugo out of Y/N's eyesight and cold hands rolled her over so she lay flat on the ground. The cold realisation that she probably looked the same as bodies being prepared for burial made her sick to the stomach.

"Get Recovery Girl, now!"

Voices echoed above her, but they seemed distant, detached, like she was under water and they were the sun, far, far above. 

And yet another wave of pain rolled over her, and she couldn't take it anymore. A scream of pure pain ripped out of her throat, and this time, real darkness descended over her.

⋘ ──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ──── ⋙

"Y/L/N, wake up."

Y/N slowly blinked, attempting to push herself up from where she lay. She saw Recovery Girl sitting in a chair next to her, and knew she should probably thank her for saving her life, but instead the first she said was,

"I thought you healed me."

"I did," the elderly woman frowned.

"The why does it hurt so much?" Y/N groaned, wincing as she settled into a more comfortable position.

"My Quirk takes some of your energy in order to heal you," she explained. "And, given what I saw when I performed a medical check and went through your medical record, taking more energy from you-"

"I know."

Y/N knew she had to sound terribly depressed as she buried her head in her hands, sweeping her hands through her hair and breathing a shaky sigh. But she'd heard the words enough already.

She knew what was wrong.

"You have a visitor," Recovery Girl added quietly, walking away to rifle through a cabinet of drawers.

The door slammed open, and Y/N really shouldn't've been surprised when she saw Bakugo leaning against the doorway.

He only said a few words before walking away, but they had a big enough impact for her to shake after he'd left just as quickly as he'd arrived.

"I don't care what injury pity shit you pulled there, but know this, Y/L/N - you've made an enemy."

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thank you for reading this
book and i hope you enjoy it!
~ jazzi