BNHA || white lie

14

Miraculously, you finish cooking on time. You barely had the self-restraint to not release the effects of your Quirk and let the two boys deal with the consequences of not having dinner ready on time. The entire process was silent, the air thick with tension.

When all was finished, food placed neatly on plates ready to be served, you finally let go and time returns to normal, the space reuniting with the rest and becoming one again. You sigh at the lightness in your chest, free from the pressure.

You grab a pack of water bottles from the pantry and leave without a word. You enter your room, head down. A small part of your conscience urges you to apologize, to explain, but you push it away. Why are you feeling guilty? What did you do wrong? Nothing, you were right, you did them a favor--you opened their eyes, showed them the true nature of heroes.

'Those who cannot accept the truth are dishonest; those who can only blame others are at fault.'

You let out a sob.

Then what does that make you?

---------

The sky is dark. It is not too late, only about a quarter to eight, but there are no stars tonight. Or maybe there are, but the smog of the city hides them away, tucked in a thick blanket of pollution that lays heavy over the grandeur of the city. A sea of coal black, quiet waves of gas, lulling its victims to sleep.

The bright lights of the building ahead gleam a pale gold, illuminating the pure white interior of the library. Midoriya sighs in relief when the glass doors easily give way to his gentle push--it is still open.

The inside does not disappoint. The boy has seen it before, of course, but it still shines impressively. The same sense of amazement hits him, just as it did the first time; a feeling of awe, almost choking.

As if proud to be a part of something so great.

He tries to hide his shaky palms behind his back as he approaches the desk. The same man, crisp white suit and trimmed hair, sits behind it. Midoriya's eyes drift down to his chest, to his nametag: 'Charles'.

"How can I help you?" Charles asks, smiling and friendly.

"Cou. . .Could I get a, uh, bracelet?" the small UA student questions, English thick and unfamiliar on his tongue. Charles nods and unlocks the cabinet, revealing the white metal cuffs. As Midoriya slips one onto his left wrist, Charles speaks up.

"We close in about 45 minutes. I'll announce when you have ten minutes left," he points to a speaker system attached to the roof, "so you can wrap things up."

"Oh, uh. . .thank you!"

The curly-haired teen makes a beeline straight for the computers. Quickly logging on, he opens up the Internet. He is curious, has been for a while--ever since he learned about LA's newest hero. His notebook sits open beside him, pencil and eraser waiting patiently to be used.

The search bar sits empty, and he begins typing into it, making sure to have changed the settings to Japanese.

'Hero atlas'. Millions of results pop up.

He scrolls down the webpage, reading article titles. 'RISING HERO ATLAS', 'Youngest Hero Welcomed in US', and, most recently, the article Sero had showed them during lunch: 'NEW AND QUICKLY GROWING HERO ATLAS SPOTTED IN DOWNTOWN L.A.'.

He frowns. None of them seem to offer the information he seeks. Just as he is about to change his search to something more specific, a string of letters at the bottom of the page catches his attention.