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It was safe to say that Hanazawa Lacara was not herself today. Normally she would be a highly excitable individual, but today she was visibly tired; so much so that even getting up off her bed for the day may have very well taken up all the strength she had to give. Her movement was all over the place, involuntarily zigzagging from one side of the footpath to the other, and she had a hand right up to her forehead this whole time, the sun burning its way into her eyes and affecting her vision of what was ahead of her.

This was the first time Lacara had been out of the house since living in Detroit, and the first time she'd seen the outside world of Japan. She wasn't particularly enthused about having to go out; in fact, she was so absolute in her refusal to leave that she pleaded he mother Yatsumi to let her sleep in. But Lacara was immediately reminded that she still had so much to learn, and that Yatsumi was never going to be able to teach her all of it. That was what got her to enroll Lacara into UA in the first place; so that she could learn things in peace, without any of the discrimination that Yatsumi or her father Fedarius would've had to endure for being in a quirkless society.

Well, that was the idea at least, but the illusion shattered the second Lacara stumbled her way up to the front gate. She knew those boos and jeers all to well. It was the sound of a protest that was starting to transform into a riot... if only because of [i]course[/i] that was what would inevitably happen. All sorts of memories flooded Lacara's mind. The beatings. The kicks that were inflicted upon her and Yatsumi back then. All the times the both of them were smacked by signs that their attackers wielded.

And the labels. Those accursed, abominable [i]labels[/i]!

...

A violent discharge of lava from her back had brought Lacara back to her senses. It also burned a hole in the shirt that made up the top half of her uniform but, as it could be quite handily and affordably replaced, it didn't matter so much. What mattered was that Lacara was pissed. She scanned the crowd ahead of her, eyes immolated with a wild, unadulterated rage.

Three people looked to be wielding megaphones in order to make their voices heard, from what Lacara could see. One was a man in the center of the protesting mob, but there were [i]way[/i] too many people that Lacara would have to fight through to get to him, regardless of the angle she could try to attack from. To say such an endeavor would be physically taxing would be a severe understatement, so that would be a hard pass. A woman with a megaphone could be spotted through the cracks of the back of the crowd, but the men that surrounded her looked to be too strong. No dice on her, either. However, Lacara spotted a particularly bold woman right near the front of the crowd. True, she'd have to go right round just to get access to her, but those in front might very well have had most of their energy sapped from combating the riot police and security, and the woman herself was probably someone Lacara could easily overpower if she had to. Perfect.

Her move determined, Lacara took a confident and much more [i]stable[/i] stride, through to the same side entrance that everyone else took to get to UA. She stopped to say hi to neither the students that had got there before her nor the members of the staff that were there to greet them. All she cared about was getting back into the front gate, using whatever mixture of bravery and insanity was there to guide her.

It was safe to say that Lacara had enough of this farce...