"...And that encapsulates the significance of Quirks throughout the ages... Any queries?" the instructor inquired, turning slightly with a faint smile to survey her pupils. Regrettably, few individuals were attentive to her discourse; some engaged in conversation with classmates, others had succumbed to slumber, and only a select handful appeared genuinely engrossed in her explanation.
Sighing inwardly and contemplating the wisdom of her career choice, she scanned the classroom and arbitrarily selected a student. Fixing her weary gaze upon her target, the teacher sharply called out, instantly commanding the attention of the entire class. "Miss Oxton! Could you state which types of Quirks were the first to emerge?"
The class collectively shifted their focus to a tall, brown-haired, brown-eyed girl who, mere moments before, had been peacefully asleep at her desk. The girl slowly lifted her head, blinking tiredly at her teacher. Having only recently awakened, Lena's brain was sluggish in processing the question, as the lingering haze in her mind gradually dissipated.
"You're unaware? That's what happens when you don't—"
Lena audibly yawned, rubbing her fingers across her eyes before half-rising to her feet. "The initial Quirks to manifest were predominantly mutations, for example, individuals possessing horns or wings, or those who were invisible, or even radiated light like the sun itself. However, in contrast to the present day, where ninety percent of the global population is born with a Quirk, back then these abilities were often dismissed as mere genetic anomalies or novel diseases. Nevertheless, it didn't take long for the true nature of these phenomena to be recognized... and subsequently, conflict erupted... and the rest is history."
The majority of the class was astonished that she could answer the question, especially considering she had been asleep throughout the entire lecture. The teacher simply gave her a blank stare before instructing her to resume her seat.
Lena nodded, then rested her head back against the desk. "I'm hungry..."
Several years had elapsed since she had regained her freedom, yet each time she witnessed the sun's embrace, she was invariably filled with the same liberating sensation of being able to pursue any desire. Even if that sentiment wasn't entirely absolute.
While life was predominantly favorable, it appeared that her near-disappearance in time itself and her three-year confinement within a capsule had inflicted a minor psychological trauma. Whenever she found herself in a confined space, such as an elevator or even her own bedroom, she would experience minor panic attacks. Although these episodes were infrequent and separated by considerable intervals, they occurred often enough to make her uncomfortable in small areas.
Grunting softly at the intrusive memories, she swiftly redirected her focus to another activity, specifically... physical training. She had primarily concentrated on strengthening her lower body, as her legs were far more adaptable to movement than her arms, which remained somewhat restricted by the Slipstream's straps. Thanks to this dedication, she could now proudly assert that her legs were, in her own estimation, aesthetically pleasing.
Lena's cheeks flushed slightly in her seat as she quickly shook her head to clear her thoughts.
Ahem, returning to the subject at hand: with Winston's consent and Uncle David's assistance, she had acquired the services of a martial arts instructor specializing in an ancient discipline known as Taekwondo. Unfortunately, she possessed no inherent talent for this art, yet she successfully mastered several techniques, absorbed considerable knowledge of the fighting style, and developed a competent ability to conduct herself in combat.
Now, why had she engaged a martial arts trainer? The simple truth was... Lena was bored. High school, given her intellectual prowess and accumulated knowledge, was essentially child's play. And while physical training was something she passionately enjoyed, it was not advisable to exercise for excessively long periods; eventually, the body fatigues, and muscles necessitate recuperation. Personally, she harbored no ambition of becoming a scientist like her father, uncle, or cousin. Secretly, she simply wished to avoid being cooped up in a room; the vivid memories of her time within the capsule rendered her unable to remain calm in such confined environments. She had reached an impasse, or more accurately, a monotonous point in her life, and she detested boredom.
"I've completely run out of activities to occupy my time..." Lena mumbled distractedly as she drifted back into sleep.
Lena was exiting the school building when...
"Excuse me!" a boy exclaimed, bowing deeply before a girl who appeared genuinely taken aback by his sudden outburst. "Please, be my girlfriend!"
Before Lena, a declaration of affection unfolded between two individuals. Lena simply skirted around them, taking an alternate path, yet the scene lingered in her thoughts. 'It's like something out of a manga...' Lena mused absently as she discreetly distanced herself.
Lena found the concept of public confessions perplexing. She comprehended the essence and significance of love, but for Lena, romantic attachments at such a tender age... it simply wouldn't endure, or so she believed. She saw no allure in pursuing a romantic relationship or marriage. For Lena, the three stages of a relationship were: dating, marriage, and children. While she harbored no aversion to the idea of having children, she wasn't particularly eager to engage in a relationship herself.
Lost in the depth of her musings, she arrived home without conscious awareness, her distraction leading her to inadvertently slam her forehead against the front door of the house.
"Ouch," Lena winced, rubbing her forehead before opening the door and stepping inside. "I'm home!"
"How was school today, dear?" Winston's voice emanated from the kitchen. Lena detected a delightful aroma, possibly pizza. "Anything noteworthy happen?"
Lena deposited her belongings on the couch before heading to the kitchen. Indeed, Winston was in the process of preparing a pizza... or rather, the automated oven was doing the work for him. Lena swiftly embraced Winston before opening the refrigerator and retrieving a carton of apple juice.
"As dull as ever... Can't I just bypass a course and graduate quickly?" Lena inquired as she returned the juice and seated herself at the table, awaiting the meal.
"No, we've discussed this. You cannot. You circumvented elementary school due to the incident, but this time, you must attend the entire academic year. If, when you seek employment, your record indicates you skipped elementary and merely graduated high school, prospective employers might suspect you used undue influence. Who, then, would be willing to hire you?" Winston reasoned with Lena as he extracted the pizza from the oven and began to slice it. "Besides, it would do you good to interact with more people."
"Uncle David would probably be willing to hire me, and I simply don't find the individuals in my classroom, or most of them, particularly agreeable," Lena half-countered as Winston placed the pizza in the center of the table. "Moreover, there are occupations that do not necessitate formal schooling."
"You are potentially correct about David, but I wish not to be further indebted to him, even if he asserts otherwise," Winston said, shaking his head as he turned to meet Lena's gaze. "And what occupation—oh. No, absolutely not."
"But—"
"No, Lena. You are aware that the Hero profession is exceedingly perilous and fraught with risk. Sixty-seven percent of heroes do not live to see their fortieth birthday. Almost half of all rookie or trainee heroes perish midway through their careers. Certainly, the remuneration, renown, and reputation are extraordinary, but in exchange, you imperil your own life for the sake of strangers. And that is not to mention that, in your specific case, you rely on the Slipstream, which is not designed for Heroic endeavors. Were we in the USA, I might have permitted you to become a Hero, but in Japan... that is simply inviting death..." Winston reasoned, a frown etched on his face, as he sat down and began to consume a slice of pizza, his eyes fixed on Lena.
Lena wished to argue but recognized she had no valid retort against Winston's statements, particularly concerning Japan. While the country might boast a mere six percent crime rate, largely attributable to the omnipotent presence of All Might, therein lay the catch. That six percent represented villains who had successfully executed their crimes; the actual number of villains operating in Japan was astronomically high, but because they were apprehended swiftly, the crime rate simply did not escalate.
"I am aware, believe me when I say I am aware," Lena sighed, looking at her father. "But... as absurd as it may sound, I desire to assist people, not for fame or wealth, but because I wish to prevent others from enduring the same desperate terror I experienced when I nearly... ceased to exist."
"For that purpose, you could become a psychologist or a physician," Winston growled, frowning. "It is a safer path, and you would still be helping individuals overcome their fears, even rescuing them from themselves."
"I—I know, but..." Lena clenched her palms into fists before standing abruptly, knocking over the chair she had been occupying. "But I aspire to be that beacon of hope in times of despair!"
'Like you... when you saved me on that night as an infant, or when you rescued me from my own foolishness,' Lena thought, yet she found herself unable to utter those words, clenching her teeth tightly.
"Be seated." The voice was barely a whisper, yet to Lena, it was as if he had unleashed a tempest, causing her to promptly sit down, head bowed, not daring to meet her father's gaze.
After a few minutes, during which Lena's heart felt on the verge of bursting, Winston spoke.
"Alright."
"No!—I—What?" Lena's counter-response became lodged in her throat as she correctly processed her father's words. "You... assent?"
"Yes, I've been aware of your interest in Heroes for some time now," Winston remarked with a smirk. "I was merely playfully prodding you to discern the underlying reason for your decision. I still recall when you held the Hero profession in disdain. However, if you are indeed set on becoming one, we shall need to implement some modifications to the Slipstream."
Lena's mind went blank, and she could barely stammer out, "H-How?"
"Your phone's search history reveals a great deal about you," Winston replied with a laugh, before adopting a more serious demeanor as he looked at Lena. "Although, I believe we should discuss some of your search queries."
Lena's face flushed slightly before she cleared her throat and declared loudly.
"I, Lena Oxton, shall dedicate one hundred percent of myself to becoming a Heroine capable of saving as many individuals as possible!"