Standing behind me is a girl who looks like someone took the concept of "energy" and gave it human form. Her hair is this shade of periwinkle blue that cascades down to her knees in loose spirals, moving like it has its own gravitational field. She's tall—maybe five-six—with ample curves all wrapped up in a U.A. third year uniform.
But it's her eyes that break my brain. They're this bright, electric blue that seems to glow from within, and they're staring at me like I'm the most fascinating puzzle she's ever encountered.
My chest gives a weird, uncomfortable lurch. Annoying.
Probably indigestion.
I lean against the nearest tree.
"You could say I'm lost," I drawl, letting my voice carry that slight rasp that usually makes girls go weak in the knees. "Good thing I found something so interesting to look at."
"Interesting? Me? Oh wow, is it because of my Quirk? It's Wave Motion—I can turn my vitality into energy and shoot it out in spirals! Like this!"
She holds up her hand, and suddenly there's this swirling vortex dancing around her palm. It's beautiful and terrifying and completely mesmerizing, like watching a miniature galaxy being born.
"Or is it my hair? People always comment on my hair! It's super long, right? I've been growing it out since middle school! But your hair is way more interesting—why is it white? Are you albino? No, wait, your eyebrows are dark, so you must dye it! Do you have to bleach it first? Doesn't that damage your follicles? My friend Mirio tried to bleach his hair once and it turned this awful creamsicle color and—"
What. The. Hell.
"—and speaking of Quirks, what's yours?" she asked, leaning in so close I could see the flecks of silver in her irises. "You look like you'd have something really flashy and cool! Is it ice-related? Fire?"
I opened my mouth to answer, but she was already gone, lost in her own storm of speculation.
"Something to do with light? Oh! Or maybe it's something completely unexpected, like you can talk to fish—"
I pinched the bridge of my nose, a headache starting to form behind my eyes. She didn't seem to notice.
"—or turn invisible or—"
She's not breathing. How is she not breathing?
"—and what's your name? You're definitely in the hero course, right? You have that look. You know, that confident, slightly dangerous look that all the really strong students have. Are you a first-year? You look like a first-year, but sometimes it's hard to tell because some of the upperclassmen look really young and some of the first-years look really mature and—"
"Whoa, slow down there, Question Mark," I say, holding up both hands in surrender. "Yes, I'm in the hero course. Yes, I'm lost. And yes, it's bleached. Can you just point me toward the 1-A dorms?"
She stops talking. The sudden silence is so jarring that I actually check to make sure she's still breathing.
Then she grins, and I realize I've just gone all-in on a terrible hand.
"You called me Question Mark! That's so cute! Nobody's ever given me a nickname before! Well, except for Mirio and Tamaki, but they don't count because we've known each other forever and Mirio calls everyone weird names and Tamaki barely talks at all unless you get him started on takoyaki and then he won't shut up about octopus techniques—"
She's doing it again. How is this my life now?
"—and you want to go to the 1-A dorms? I can totally show you! I love walking around campus, and I hardly ever get to show new students around because most of them are too intimidated to ask for help, which is really sad because U.A. can be super confusing at first and everyone should feel welcome and—"
She pauses, tilting her head like a curious bird.
"Wait, did you say 1-A? That's so cool! I heard they're getting some really interesting students this year. There was this whole thing with the entrance exam where some first-year got the highest score in modern school history! Was that you? You look like you could be really smart and tactical and—"
Oh, you have no idea, Question Mark.
"Maybe," I say, picking up my suitcase and falling into step beside her as she starts walking. "Depends on what you consider interesting."
She bounces—actually bounces—as we walk, her ridiculous hair swaying behind her like a banner.
"Everything's interesting! Like, take you for example. You've got this whole mysterious, cool-guy thing going on, but then you get flustered when people ask you direct questions. And your posture is really confident, but you keep scanning the area. Are you paranoid? Do you have trust issues? Were you bullied as a kid? Oh! Or maybe you're just really observant and tactical, which would make sense if you're the record-breaker because that would require serious strategic thinking and—"
"You're observant," I say, shoving my hands into my pockets.
"I notice things! It's part of my Quirk training. When you can shoot energy blasts, you have to pay attention to your environment so you don't accidentally blow something up. Plus, people are fascinating! Everyone has these little details that tell stories about who they are and where they've been and—"
We passed a series of sleek dorm buildings that looked more like luxury condos. The path was lined with perfectly spherical bushes and glowing pylons. The air smelled of freshly cut grass and money.
So much money.
"—and speaking of stories, what's yours? You're not from around here, are you? Your accent is Tokyo, but there's something else underneath it. Something rougher. And your clothes are really nice—but your shoes are practical. Combat boots under designer jeans is an interesting choice. Are you rich? Are you poor pretending to be rich? Are you rich pretending to be poor? Oh! Are you a secret agent?"
"I'm not a secret agent."
"That's exactly what a secret agent would say! Oh wow, this is so exciting! I've never met a secret agent before! Well, except for some of the underground heroes, but they don't count because they're not actually secret, they're just sneaky, and—"
"I'm not a secret agent!"
She stops talking and looks at me with those impossibly bright eyes. For a moment, I think I've finally gotten through to her.
Then she grins again.
"You're really fun to tease! Most people either get scared of me or try to flirt with me, but you just get all flustered and defensive. It's adorable!"
"I am not adorable."
"See? You're doing it again! That little scowl is so cute! And the way your eyebrows scrunch up when you're annoyed—"
"Question Mark."
"Yes?"
"How much farther to the dorms?"
She points ahead, and I see it—a massive, modern building that looks like it was designed by someone who had unlimited money and a serious architectural vision. Alliance Heights rises before us like a monument to U.A.'s obscene wealth, all glass and steel and perfectly calculated intimidation.
"There it is! Home sweet home! Well, not my home—I'm a third-year, so I live in the upperclassman dorms—but it'll be your home! Isn't it beautiful? The architect won like seventeen awards for this design, and the interior is even more amazing. They have a hot spring! An actual hot spring! In a dorm building! I mean, it makes sense because some Quirks require specific recovery methods, but still—"
"Wait," I say, stopping again. "You're a third-year?"
"Yep! Nejire Hado, Class 3-A! I'm part of the Big 3—you know, the three strongest students in the school? Well, technically we're the three strongest third-years, but everyone just calls us the Big 3 because it sounds cooler and—"
Shit. This is THE Nejire Hado, one of the three most powerful students in the entire school. Someone who could probably level a city block if she felt like it.
And she's been treating me like a fascinating new toy for the past ten minutes.
Well. That explains a few things.
"You're staring at me funny," she says, tilting her head again. "Did I say something weird? I mean, weirder than usual? People tell me I talk too much, but I can't help it! There's just so much interesting stuff in the world, and if you don't ask questions, how are you supposed to learn anything?"
"You know what, Question Mark?" I say, surprising myself with how genuine my voice sounds. "You're probably the weirdest person I've ever met."
Her face lights up like I just gave her the greatest compliment in the world.
"Really? That's so nice! I get that a lot! Weird is way better than boring, don't you think? Boring people never discover anything interesting!"
We reach the entrance to Alliance Heights, and she bounces to a stop in front of the massive glass doors.
"So this is where we part ways! Unless you want me to show you around inside? I know where everything is, and I could introduce you to some of the other students! Oh! Or we could grab lunch and you could tell me more about your mysterious past and your secret agent training and—"
"I'm not a secret agent."
"—and your Quirk! You still haven't shown me your Quirk! Is it a secret? Are you embarrassed about it? Some people are embarrassed about their Quirks, but they shouldn't be because every Quirk is amazing in its own way and—"
She's going to keep going forever if I don't stop her.
"Question Mark."
"Yes?"
"Give me your phone."
She blinks, looking confused for the first time since I met her.
"My phone? Why do you want my phone? Are you going to put some kind of secret agent tracking device on it? Because I have to tell you, that would be really cool but also kind of invasive and—"
I hold out my hand. After a moment of what might be her version of deep thought, she pulls out her phone and hands it over.
I key in my number and hand it back.
"There. Now you can text me all your questions instead of ambushing random students by koi ponds."
She stares at the phone, then at me, then back at the phone. Her mouth is slightly open, the stream of questions finally, mercifully dammed.
Then she squeals—actually squeals—and bounces up and down like she just won the lottery.
"You gave me your number! This is so exciting! I have so many questions! Like, what's your favorite color? Do you prefer cats or dogs? What's your blood type? Have you ever been in love? What's your biggest fear? Do you believe in aliens? What's your opinion on pineapple pizza? Have you ever—"
"Text me," I say, backing toward the doors. "All of them. Every single question. I promise I'll answer."
What am I doing? Why did I just do that?
She clutches the phone to her chest.
"Really? You'll really answer them? Even the weird ones? Because I have some really weird ones!"
"Yes, even those."
I push through the doors, leaving her standing there in the afternoon sun, glowing like a supernova in human form. Through the glass, I can see her typing furiously on her phone, probably composing the first of what will undoubtedly be hundreds of text messages.
What have I gotten myself into?
My phone buzzes before I even reach the elevator.
Unknown Number: What's your favorite way to eat eggs? And don't say scrambled because that's boring and you don't seem boring AT ALL! 😊