"Don't let me go."
"Don't worry, I won't ever let you go. I promise."
Ikari's scar is the first thing that people notice. And it drives them away, since it is the symbol of her father, one of the most feared villains of all time... before he died.
...
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*warning: violence
POV—Hebinoya Ikari
Challenges
Don't let me go.
Of course, something bad is going to happen.
Whoever these people are,
Whatever they're going to make us do,
We didn't stop for no reason.
I just don't know what we'll need to do.
Don't let me go.
"Lock on with these sparkling gazes—"
"Stingingly cute and catlike—"
"Wild, wild pussycats!"
Two women, adorned in elaborate headgear, skirts, and paw-like gloves pop out of the car, their energy nearly overwhelming. My mouth falls open as they strike a pose, skirts swishing and smiles glinting. The woman dressed in red sports a short, brown bob cut, and the other, covered in blue, flips back long blonde hair. I widen my eyes again, rubbing them to make sure that this isn't an illusion.
"I'm pretty sure these people are made of my nightmares," I mutter. "This must be a bad dream. Sho-yo," I say, pulling at his shirt sleeve, "please wake me up. I'm scared."
"Ikari, you're probably more scared of these people than you are of your father," Shoto murmurs back, "you're not dreaming. This is real."
"This is the first and last time I will ever say this, but I am very scared of these people."
Aizawa clears his throat, summoning our attention. "These are pro heroes that will be working with us in the training camp-- the Pussycats," he introduces tiredly.
Midoriya, as always, launches into a long explanation. He lists fact after fact as the class listens in mild interest. I've briefly heard of their names before, but I never considered them to be very effective for city rescues, as they specialize in mountain ones.
"We own this whole stretch of mountain here," the woman with the bob says, "you'll be staying at the foot of the mountain, over there." She points at an obscure point near the bottom of the valley. I cannot see much, but I squint either way to see if I can spot anything. Why are we so far from our destination?
The other students voice my concerns out loud as an uncomfortable atmosphere settles over us. A shiver runs up my back.
"It's 9:30am right now," the woman with the bob says. She rubs her paws together. "If you work hard, you might make it at noon." Her voice is low. A silent warning hides under her tone.
