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I ran as fast as I could, dressed in a hoodie, long pants and sneakers. After jumping out of the window, I had ran towards the train station unknowingly. But it was only once I reached the station that I realize I didn't have any money on me. Looking ahead, I noticed that a train was about to leave the platform and head towards its destination. Once the platform was empty, I magnetized my hand to the side of the train and pulled my self up onto the roof as it left the station. I layed back on the roof of one of the train carriages, magnetizing myself to it so I would stay on as the train picked up speed.

My eyes watched the sky above, the stars standing out against the dark night sky. And now that no one could see me, I let more tears out, the wind blowing them away as soon as they left my eyes. In this moment, I had no shame nor care for how much I cried. No one was there to experience it, now I could do it as openly as I wanted. Even if I started to sob loudly, no one would hear it. My voice would be lost in the wind and be unheard by those I wanted help from. But I wouldn't admit that I needed help, not now anyway.


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I rode the train for over half an hour before I decided it was time to get off. Subtly, I got off the top of the train and left the station. Walking through the bustling city, I stared to hate where I was the fact that there were so many people. They kept looking at me and I felt weak under their gaze, my hood up and face hidden behind it.

Ducking into an alleyway, I repelled my feet from the floor and pulled my hand towards the wall. Once it was magnetized, I did the same to the rest of my limbs as I climbed the rest of the way up and onto the roof. It took a lot out of me, trying to get up there. And once I was there, I lay down on the concrete, taking my time to catch my breath. It didn't take long but it felt like ages, my throat aching from the amount of aggressive breathing I had done while running earlier.

I made my way over to the front of the building and sat on the ledge, my legs hanging over the side. Looking down at the people walking past below, I couldn't help but glare down at them. I felt like shit after everything Mihoko had said about me and these people were laughing and smiling without a care. It shouldn't have but it angered me.

"Hey, what's with the sour face?" an unfamiliar voice called out. It came from behind me so I wondered how they could see my face at all.

"Can you see my face from back there?" I asked in a hostile tone. The person chuckled, they deepness of their voice indicating that they were male.

"Nope, but I can feel that deadly aura from here. Looks like you wanna kill someone, chill out," they chuckled. I turned my head and noticed that there was a very distinctive looking man behind me. He had short spiky hair, blue eyes and his skin was covered in purple scars.

I didn't respond and took my time taking in his strange appearance. Despite him being open about how he looked, I didn't feel inclined in the slightest to show my tear-stained face. Not caring about the guy behind me, I turned back around and faced the front, trusting that my quirk would protect me if he tried anything. And I was surprised that he didn't, instead he took a seat beside me, keeping his eyes on me. He held his scarred hand out, a can of (drink) in his grasp.

"You want one?" he asked, offering it to me. I was tempted to take it, my throat still begging for some kind of fix for the pain it was in. Heaving a sigh, I took the can from his hands and opened it, taking a quick swig.

"Thanks, I needed that." He watched me for a moment before looking down at all the people that walked below.

"There a reason why you're pissed at all those people?" he asked, resting his hands behind him on the concrete, allowing him to lean back and look up at the sky. I shrugged my shoulders.

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