Kana couldn’t help the shock—or the twinge of disgust—that twisted her face as Wakako explained the intricacies of her quirk. It was sympathetic, of course, and she cringed at the idea that her roommate might think she was disgusted by her and not the preparations she had to go through to get her quirk working, but it seemed as though Wakako understood. Perhaps she was even used to it; after all, how many people wouldn’t flinch at the idea of drinking dangerous chemicals, on top of god-knows-what-else?
She nodded appreciatively when Wakako suggested their quirks’ more finicky aspects were similar, but in truth, listening to the cannon’s explanation had her feeling grateful that all she had to put up with was pain. There were prospective dangers with her quirk, of course, but at the very least she never had to worry about drinking poison or eating metal, to say nothing of worrying about things exploding in her face.
Still, shock and worry aside, Kana found herself rather relaxed. She’d taken a seat on the bed she’d lifted, and while Wakako talked she had listened closely and almost forgotten herself. Her hands had stopped shaking, her heart, still hastened, no longer pounded against her chest like the feet of a rabbit. Her elbow still stung, but what was pain compared to anxiety? She was smiling, even, swept up in Wakako’s enthusiasm for what her quirk might do with a little practice, and her pride for what she could do already.
“I’d like to see that, when they let us,” she said, and did mean it. It had been years since quirks had been such a welcomed topic; back home her father had made discussing them practically taboo. Kana of course hadn’t spoken a word about her own quirk to anyone before Ishin had entered the picture, and so Wakako’s question stumped her, at first.
No, no. Don’t lie, you know exactly where your quirk is headed.
Perhaps it was the fact that, for the first time in a while, she felt like she had a handle on her nerves, but she managed to quiet her own thoughts before they could bring disaster back to fragile, tentative calm she’d mustered.
“Oh,” she said, surprised at the relative clarity of her own voice. “I’m not sure…maybe lifting two beds at once?”
Was that a joke? Had she tried to make a joke? Even in her own stillness she could feel herself cringing.
“Uhm…b-but, really, I don’t know. It might seem a bit…dumb, but I’m not really sure what I’m capable of. I guess I’d like to find out, here. I-is that wrong? I mean…Ishin is supposed to be…well, Ishin, and…”
Wow, you can’t go thirty seconds without trying to sabotage the conversation, can you?
Well, it was nice while it lasted. Kana felt her smile twitching. She bowed her head, cleared her throat.
“Sorry. I guess the…ah…speech, that the Supervisor gave still has me a little nervous. I guess we'll have to get used to imposing faculty, though, huh? I'm sure the teachers aren't any...warmer than he is.”