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[indent]“[color=red]I don’t wanna go,[/color]” Saika had said, with one foot already out the door. “[color=red]I'm gonna fuck it up. No one’s gonna want me there anyway.[/color]”

Her mom, who was only halfway through her morning coffee and thus incapable of expressing human sympathy, looked at her flatly from the kitchen counter and shrugged. “[color=cyan]Sounds like their problem,[/color]” she’d said, before looking back down at the cluster of manila folders and old, ragged papers. “[color=cyan]Knock out a few teeth. Might help’em solve it.[/color]”

The train ride had been long, or maybe it had been short; she hadn’t paid too much attention, really. The whole time was spent anxiously bouncing her leg, listening to angry American music that she couldn’t understand but could definitely [i]feel[/i]. Her playlist was mostly that—loud, angry, menacing. Made her blood rush in the good way. The useful way. 

It was still early when she finally reached Sapporo, and [i]way[/i] fucking colder than she’d expected. Winter was supposed to be [i]over[/i] goddammit, and the cheapo uniforms Ishin might as well have been made of toilet paper for all the good they did her. Sure, it might have helped to zip the jacket up, but she was wearing one of her favorite [url=https://i.imgur.com/rmYOR5Y.jpg]shirts[/url] today, and as strict as this place was, she didn’t know how many opportunities she’d get to bust out the hall-of-famers she’d stuffed in her backpack. 

Besides, she could make it to the academy before the frostbite set in. She’d burnt a fair bit of blood before she left, but towards the end of the ride she’d begun to taste metal in her mouth. Probably for the best if she didn’t walk into her first day of school cosplaying the elevator from The Shining. 

So, Saika swished her mouth around, felt it fill with iron, and then unceremoniously spat a glob of blood into her hands. Walking over to the grass, she worked it like lather, and then with an inner nudge, the stuff lit up like gasoline. She pressed her fiery palms to her face, vigorously rubbing her cheeks and neck, combing burning fingers through her hair. None of it caught fire—though if she’d been less careful she might have accidentally singed her uniform—and she didn’t burn, either. All she felt was a gentle, pleasant warmth, which was just about all she ever felt when she touched her own quirk, aside from tired. 

Finished, she flicked what ashen residue remained from her hands, and they were utterly clean again. Cleaner, even, than they had been before. Sanitizer be damned, the bane of all germs was [i]fire[/i]. 

As she began parse out where she was going, a massive shadow eclipsed her, and someone tapped her very gently on the shoulder. She turned while they began to ask her something, but she hardly heard them. As soon as she realized she was staring point-blank at a [i]stomach[/i] she jolted, and looked up. And up. And [i]up[/i]. 

“[color=red]Holy fucking sh—[/color]” she started, as she finally met eyes with the beast. “[color=red]—aaaaaark...[/color]”

It took her many moments to stop staring, and several more to realize that she was being rude, and also that he’d asked her a question. 

“[color=red]Uh…[/color]” she mumbled, blinking. When he didn’t miraculously vanish, she wrangled her composure back and cleared her throat. “[color=red]Oh, woah. Sorry. You said—what’d you say? Directions to the school? Are you a teacher?[/color]”

[i]No, idiot,[/i] she thought, finally noticing his uniform. [i]He’s a fucking student. He’s a fucking[/i] [b]student[/b]?

“[color=red]Shit, no, yeah. I’m new here, too,[/color]” she said. “[color=red]I...[i]think[/i] I know where I'm goin' though, wanna just come with me?[/color]” Without really waiting for an answer, she started off, walking backwards as if to usher him along. “[color=red]Oi, you got a name, big dude?[/color]”[/indent]