After Recovery Girl retired from U.A. High School, a young doctor has unwittingly taken her place. Her quirk? Bloody awful.
❛ 𝒮ee you on a dark night. ❜
[ rewrite of the original BNHA fic. written in a different perspective and with separate events...
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☤
This paperwork is really stacking up.
May's gloved hands tended to the scuffed and bruised students from the first couple of events for the Sports Festival. The latex rolled against her wrists and left red marks.
Some of the first years had tears in their eyes and sat in complete silence. Others engaged with one another about how they would raise their standings next year. Many of them had cleared out by the introduction of the third and final event.
None of them had severe injuries, luckily. Many were roughed up and clearly, weren't prepared for the trials they were about to face.
It must be different actually experiencing it rather than watching it on television. As a kid, she wasn't interested in auditioning for hero courses. When she watched the Sports Festival, she would find herself drifting away from the actual events and focusing more on how everyone looked. Not their clothing, no.
But their faces.
She found herself searching the television screen for the same masks of determination during the first event. Yet, all she could see were children. Afraid, nervous, desperate to seek the approval of strangers. A sea of competition, and some would drown within it. Their faces would slowly fade into the white noise of the crowd. And thoughts, though bubbling under the surface, wouldn't attach themselves.
While she finished up some human patchwork, a few stragglers caught May's eye. She focused on her own mask. Not one of determination, but one of neutrality.
"Who do you think will win this year?" one girl asked another, brushing herself off as they started toward the infirmary exit. Her purple-haired seemed to dull under the harsh lighting.
Cold water washed over May's hands.
"I don't know. I think it's gonna be one of those three boys from class 1-A. They're so strong. What do you think?"
Their voices trailed upon exiting the room, echoing down the cavernous stadium hallways. May exhaled and lightly splashed her face with water. Her mind was desperately blocking out any thought. She was trying not to glance at her work bag where her second phone dinged. The tone— a small whistle— was so deeply ingrained in her thoughts that it sounded as though it was ringing constantly.
Before thoughts could snake around her self-forged wall, the television screen started to scream again. The crowd's roaring seared through her eardrum and Midnight's harsh voice sliced through them. It lit up the room, discussing the rules of the one-on-one battles.
May wiped her hands while her eyes soaked in the bracket. She could recognize that fluffy cloud of purple hair from anywhere.
