Chapter Two

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Basing his parents off the fan-made ones XD and yes I totally believe he should've been Aizawa's son-

Song: 8TEEN by Khalid 

Your P.O.V.

Quirks were something everyone but me valued. Everyone but me practically worshipped... was I weird? Was I? Was it so wrong for me to have a different opinion...? No...it's not. And everyone seemed to forget after a while...until I said I wanted to be a hero.

Then everyone was just confused. "But you hate quirks!"They'd say, "But doesn't it involve quirks?"

Yeah, it does... but... I just want to save people. I want to be something someone can look at and smile knowing I will be there to help them and protect them. Just how I'd like Shinsou Hitoshi to look at me....except he doesn't.

My eyes travel slowly to every inch of his desk which is covered in nasty words that people seem to always call or tell him. Using my hand I brush it along the surface of his desk, every word grazing underneath my hand.

Freak.

Villain.

Brainwashing lunatic.

Control freak.

Kill yourself.

Death is always an option.

Villain's like you deserve to die.

Why bother living.

You'll be alone forever.

It makes me sick...absolutely sick... My hands clench into a fist and I feel my eyes burn from the threat of tears. It was like this almost every day for the poor boy and it hurt even more because I couldn't stop it. I couldn't catch these bastards in the act and pound them. My mind would be only set on hurting them like they hurt him.

My other hand wrings at the wet cloth, my teeth gritting to hold myself back from angrily shouting. It's the last day. It's fine Y/n... He won't go through this anymore. Because I am 100% sure we will be in U.A. And aspiring heroes aren't mean...right?

Plopping the warm sudsy and water-soaked cloth on the marked on desk I start scrubbing away. Every letter just turning into watery ink on his desk. I try to gulp down the lump in my throat that's causing my face to become hot from the build-up of tears I refuse to let run down my face.

I just scrub and scrub and scrub until it's all gone. With both hands placed on the wet inky cloth, I hunch over the desk. But I hear the classroom door open... and footsteps come up behind me.

"Figure's you'd be here." He scoffs from behind me. I lower my head, "Hey... you didn't see anything right?"

"..."

"...damn." I scoff and force a small smile on my face as I turn around with my hands behind my back to meet his intense dark purple orbs, "Guess I was too late huh?" I show a teeth showing smile hoping he doesn't notice the utter despair and guilt deep in my E/C eyes. "Sorry, Shinsou,"

"Stop that." He sighs scratching the back of his neck, staring at our feet. "Stop trying to help me out all the time and stop feeling guilty, Y/n."

My smile falters a little before I drop it completely, "I know you don't want my help buuuttt, ya can't stop me. Besides, I already cleaned off your desk." I reveal the ink soaked cloth from behind my back, "So why don't we just toss the cloth out and walk home?"

"Isn't it the schools?" "Psh, we're leavin' today and I doubt they have an emotional attachment to a freaking cloth. Put it in the fuck it bucket." I step towards the tired boy and hook an arm with him.

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