Chapter 8

Tick...

2:11

Ahhh! Thirty minutes have passed yet I'm still on question ten!!! 

Tick...

2:38

Nearly one hour...I'm definitely failing...sorry mom, dad, I let you guys down...

Tick...

2:55

I can't remember everything! Wasted those nights I stayed up studying...ahhhh!

Tick...

3:07

Why is there only three minutes left!? I still have a shit ton of questions empty!

Tick...

3:09

Who gives a crap anymore! Just guess everything and pray that it's correct! 

Tick...

"Well, that's it," Hiro announced, looking at the time of the clock ticking away on the classroom's wall. "Pens down, I'm collecting the papers now and none of you better pull any shit. Sit still, and shut up." Hiro knew his class better than he wanted to, pushed his glasses up and sent a glare down at his students.

All of them knew not to pull any shit and obeyed. They were collectively sweatdropping and internally cursing at everything and anything for how shitty they did. Even if they were the smartest class in the school, anxiety about their scores lingered.

Within the class, a network of non-verbal communication emerged. Blinking, hand gestures, blinking, worrisome expressions, lip reading, blinking, and, a shit ton of blinking.

"Bakugou, your test papers," Hiro walked up to a desk with a figure of blond, resting their head into their arms and he lightly tapped the edge of the desk to get their attention.

Hitori lifted his head off the desk, rubbing the corners of his eyes slightly where beady water droplets clung to his lashes. "Ah...of course, Sensei," he murmured and handed Hiro the papers, who responded with a nonchalant hum and continued to finish collecting the papers. 

Many students turned their heads to take a peek at their goddess, all beginning to have murmurs through their eyes and heads. Hitori didn't even bother and nuzzled his face back into his arm. 

He could still feel the gazes drilling into his head, but shrugged it off as it was normal. His every action, word, or really anything, was taken in by the students around him. And anything he'd do, he'd get praised for. 

The name, "Goddess" was thrown around a lot around him, and Hitori really could really care less about it. People were calling him that ever since the beginning of middle school - twelve or so. 

At first, Hitori didn't even bother to respond to the name and found it slightly weird, the term "Goddess". But after a while, he couldn't really shake the name off no matter what, even when he showed disliking the title and told the people off. 

Hitori stared out the window, looking out at the swirling cherry blossoms tree and how it stood proud, its branches adorned with a sea of pale pink petals, dancing in the wind. Sunlight filtered through the blossoms, casting a soft, warm glow down to the land below.

You could see the commotion outside the building of the graduating third-years. Laughter echoed, and the air was filled with the sweet scent of success. Hitori's eyes scanned the crowd, and quickly landed on a mop of blonde.

Katsuki, who, despite the celebratory atmosphere, plastered his usual pissed expression and fiery aura. Even amidst the collective cheer, Katsuki stayed in character and was grouching, hands in pocket with shitty back posture. 

'Katsuki's 100% gonna regret that in the future...but I guess it doesn't really matter, he's not really going to be alive to care, mhm'

Hitori hummed to himself while thinking about things similar to the topic while tilting his head slightly to the side and looking out into the distance of the window.

***

Hitori sat at his desk, sifting through the myriad letters of recommendation from schools all over Japan inviting for his enrollment. The soft glow of his monitors cast a gentle illumination across his features, as the vibrant hues danced across his face, the only source of light in the dimly lit room. His laptop was laid open to the side of his desk with its screen displaying a multitude of tabs. 

As Hitori read through each letter without much thought, he couldn't help but think, why? 

​​Why did he have this many letters from all these schools? 

Hitori never even bothered to sign or get into any of them, or any school in general, only really looking at what school to attend now, since he couldn't really be bothered to care about his future. 

He already tried once and it was tiring. He died in the end anyway, so it was all for nothing. 

As Hitori looked through the letters, he couldn't help but to raise a suspicious brow. Was it his grades? They were exceptional compared to the average, but weren't that amazing for schools to give out invitations to join them - at least in his opinion. Or was it something else entirely that had caught their attention? 

Hitori's finger suddenly froze from scrolling on his mouse as a peculiar logo flashed on his screen.

U.A.

"...pfft—!" 

Hitori leaned back in his chair, the supple leather creaked. 

The corners of his lips curved upward and a subtle chuckle escaped. It began as a mere whisper of amusement, but it soon became louder and louder as his echoes of hysterical laughter reverberated through the empty room.

As his hand raked through his hair, strands of his golden hair draped over his eyes through the gaps between his fingers. With a subtle tilt of his head, he allowed himself a moment of quiet marvel, his eyes alight with amazement.

"Those boys have been exhausting themselves to the limit, preparing for that ridiculous entrance exam. Yet I've been given a free invitation to the damn school when I don't even give a shit about it—this, this is fucking hilarious..!"

As Hitori clicked open the message, he read through the context of the letter - the first one he bothered to open and actually read. It was one of the few letters that had managed to capture his attention amidst the stacks of neglected invitations that had been tossed aside without a second glance of reading through the letter. The further Hitori scrolled down, a sense of incredulous amusement began to swell within him, mingling with a tinge of irony that danced at the edge of his thoughts.

The letter's general context was Yuuei - taking notice of his exceptional academic prowess - hailing him as one of the foremost talents in Japan based on his junior scores. It delved into an analysis of his end of year test results, painting a portrait of his scholastic achievements in vivid detail. The mention of an invitation to join class 1-A, coupled with an assessment of his quirk and its potential. The letter went on to outline what Yuuei, as the No.1 hero school in all of Japan, could offer Hitori their many resources and a glimpse into a world of boundless opportunities.

Hitori wouldn't need to take the entrance exam as he'd be getting a recommendation letter from Nezu himself, who is also the pers - uh, mouse...no - being, who wrote the letter, personally, to Hitori. 

After reading through the obnoxious letter, Hitori scoffed, and threw it aside with the rest of the letters.

Hitori thought back to the context of the original Boku no Hīrō Akademia series where, in the crucible of heroism, where valor and resilience were exalted, Izuku, from being a quirkless nobody society and his peers bullied and ridiculed to death, to becoming an aspiring hero with friends and mentors who care for him and would follow him in the arms of death - was all by pure chance he stumbled across All Might on that fateful day.

Well, it wasn't all chance, per say. Izuku was the main character after all, everything revolved around him and Horikoshi had written this story just for him. Still, Hitori found it funny. 

What if, Boku no Hīrō Akademia wasn't just a piece of fiction for anyone to pick up and view. Hitori also did the same, reading through pages and pages of the story following its dear main character and his journey of growing up to be the No.1 hero. Yet, Hitori - no, Kim Soo-Eun - was here, living through the exact story for one character, and only one character.

If, Izuku Midoriya wasn't the main character written to push the story of Boku no Hīrō Akademia forward, where would he be? Hitori, from his guess, had a few options. 

"Maybe a police officer..? Vigilante…Villain, even…Eh, most likely dead." 

Either way, Izuku would have been passed as another unlucky person born into this universe, his worth and impact to the world wouldn't be more than a mere pop of a bubble. 

The penetrating scrutiny of human nature, the dichotomy of merit and privilege and dissonance between the deserving and the favored. Hitori found himself ensnared in the web of societal bias and the capricious whims of fortune, where the delineation between right and wrong blurred in the shadows casted.

It was an enigma for Hitori for them to be in a position of favor, his mind meandering through the corridors of thought, where the stark realities of talent and classism intersected with the capricious whims of fate. The struggles and the relentless toil of his peers, strangers, and a certain green blob, were all very clear to Hitori. 

The universe, it seemed, held an inscrutable penchant for singling out its favorites, bestowing its laurels upon those whose virtues aligned with its enigmatic designs. The scales of opportunity tilted in favor of the select few, leaving a mountain of aspirations to languish in the shadow of overlooked potential.

In this society of having a flashy and powerful quirk is all, the dichotomy of privilege and perseverance stood tall as an inexorable force that governed the trajectory of one's future, status and how society treats you. The facile siren song of favoritism and the veiled nuances of classism was a very clear narrative for anyone to see.

Though, all of this philosophical and debatable bullshit didn't matter much to Hitori, they weren't the type. 

He didn't care that much for what the green blob did with his life, in the original, fannon, or this universe. He didn't care how this world was fucked, in the exact same was as his original world, screwing over the people in the shadows and burning brighter flames only to a select few. He was more worried about his Slacker life disappearing further and further away from him into the unknown the more he breathed and awoke for another day. 

Why did it seem like the more Hitori tried to do nothing, the more he was pushed into the spotlight on center stage..!?

It made Hitori's head hurt and cry crocodile tears. 

Why was he here anyway? It's not like he ever bothered to contribute to the society this world already built up on their own foundation by adapting to something his original world never had, quirks. And even if Hitori bothered to try, why him? 

Hitori would most likely, never, get an answer.

The universe was a bitch, and Hitori couldn't even slap what stupid deity threw him into this tiring world. 

Hitori was just like that - a narcissistic person through and through, doing things only for his personal interest and favor, and putting himself before others. 

Plus, who would want to join Yuuei after knowing what bullshit they had to go through in the future, and if you were a student there, what would you have to do for the school? Forget all the benefits, Yuuei had the exact opposite ideals from Hitori. He didn't want to be anywhere near the shit Horikoshi wrote and set up for the main character and his little crew. His number one goal and reason for living in this life, was getting the slacker life they chased in both lifetimes, and going to Yuuei could contradict everything he strived in life!

After what felt like an eternity of sifting through an avalanche of mundane letters, Hitori eventually had two letters open on his monitors.

Nada High school

Keio Shonan-Fujisawa High school

"Which one should I pick, to repeat this tiring stage of life once again...yay."