Chapter Text
Proctoring tests is so boring. I sigh for the 20th time that hour.
I continue to paint my nails a deep shade of red as I scan the room to try to catch cheaters. Every year I sign up to proctor the written portion of the U.A. entrance exam for a little extra unnecessary cash and every year I regret sitting quietly staring at students for the 4 hour written test.
Since I started here 3 years ago, I've been asked to be present for the practical part of the entrance exam. I have a dual quirk of matter and energy manipulation, so it's good for me to be here if things get out of hand since I can easily manipulate the environment. Even though it's an arena with empty buildings to mimic a cityscape, there are still safety risks.
My first year here, an overzealous potential student tried to take down a robot by bringing a building down on top of it. I had to swoop in, power the student down by taking enough energy away from him that he couldn't move. Then I had to manipulate the matter of the building to make sure it didn't fall on anyone. Taking energy from people is exhausting so I was pissed and tired for the rest of the day. The student didn't get admitted.
The written exam finally ended. I got up, cracked my back, and collected all the exams before releasing the students to the auditorium so they can learn about the practical exam.
I drop the tests off with the principal, being careful not to smudge my freshly painted nails as I adjust my fingerless gloves. Making my way toward the observers box to get settled in with my notebook, I notice I'm the first one in the room and Present Mic enters a few moments later. He plops down on my left with a huff.
He's in his hero costume which includes a directional speaker around his neck. I never knew how he could stand to wear the metal piece for so long without it chafing.
I'm not friends with any of my co-workers since I keep to myself. Mic watches me delicately fish a pen out of my right jacket pocket with just my index finger and my thumb and scribble a little in a corner to confirm that it works. I'm hoping that he'll take the hint, but the man absolutely cannot sit in silence.
"Hey l/n! How was proctoring?" He asks and I look at him briefly. He's got a large grin on his face and it makes me want to roll my eyes at him.
Why is he so happy all the time? I think to myself before replying.
"Boring but fine." I keep my face impassive like always. I roll my shoulders and make sure my sleeves are straight and cover my wrists.
There are three deep parallel claw mark that start at the top of my left shoulder and drag down my left arm to the back of my hand. I hate the stares I get from others so I just choose to keep it covered with long sleeves and fingerless gloves. And who can turn down the practicality of pockets?
My scar doesn't actively hurt anymore, but there is a constant dull ache that gets very annoying and if the ache persists for awhile, the pain will increase until I find some sort of relief. Usually rubbing it with lotion in small circles will relieve it just enough, but sometimes I have to go to my doctor and get cortisone shots throughout the scar to relieve the pain. The shots have to go directly into the scar tissue and it's such a sharp pain, it's almost not even worth it.
"What did you do with your break?" He tries to restart a conversation after an extended silence. I start to doodle in a corner of my notebook so I have a reason not to look at him.
"A little of this, a little of that." He just won't give up.
"This is your 2nd year here?" He questions.
"3rd." I flew under the radar my first year and managed to only meet about 3 staff members other than Nezu. Being an ethics and combat instructor had the perk of being in a wing by myself so there was easy access to one of the gyms on campus for the combat training as well as a classroom for the ethics lessons. It was nice not to have to travel too far between rooms but it was a bit of a jog to the teachers lounge. I avoided the lounge as much as I could anyway so it wasn't a real issue. I even went as far as getting a mini fridge for my classroom so I could keep my lunch cold and close. And also this stopped potential lunch theft.
"Wow! Time flies, huh?" He continues.
I hum in response. It feels like he's finally reached the end of his small talk questions and is going to leave me be.
"Some of the other staff and I are going out for a drink tonight. You should join us." It's not a question so much as a statement. I really don't like being told what to do. I had enough of that with my ex, I don't need it from a co-worker.
"Pass" I don't hesitate to respond.
"Oh come on, l/n! In three years, you've never joined us for some faculty bonding! It'll be so much fun! I promise!" He slips off his chair and gets on his knees in front of me so he can look in my eyes. He at least has the good sense not to touch me. He clasps his hands together and pleads. "I'm begging you to join us! One drink, I'll buy, and if you're not having fun, I'll call and pay for a cab."
"I don't find enjoyment in the company of others." I deadpan
"Everyone has fun in groups at least once in a while." He's still on his knees and pleading. People are starting to file in and glance in our direction curiously.
"Not me. Get up." I'm starting to get uncomfortable with the looks we're getting.
"Agree and I will" He eyes me mischievously.
I could easily use my quirk and knock him out but I'm pretty sure using my quirk on another co-worker for non-educational purposes is grounds for termination. This job isn't really necessary for my finances since I have quite a bit saved up, but I have ended up enjoying it these past few years and would hate to lose it from assaulting a co-worker.
"This is blackmail. Very unheroic." I'm starting to get mad and maybe a little panicked. The feeling of being backed into a corner is starting to activate my sense of fight or flight.
"I'm saving you from a night of boredom, so it's VERY heroic!" He's getting louder as he tries to convince me.
"You don't even know what I do in my free time. It's far from boring!" I snap at him. I usually read a book with a glass (or 6) of whatever alcohol I have on hand while I'm either on the couch or in the bath. So depending on the book, it could be a great or an unexciting night. The book in my pocket right now isn't particularly riveting, but he doesn't need to know that.
"You're right, so why don't you tell me while we're out with other staff members at a bar?" He's really pushing me on this.
There's at least ten other people in the room now and all of them are listening in on our conversation. "Fine." I grind out with a clenched jaw.
He finally gets off his knees and settles himself back into his chair. My fist tightens around my pen in an attempt not to stab him in the neck with the tip.
"Give me your cell number so I can give you the deets later." He's back to his casual self.
"Absolutely not." My defeated tone doesn't match the anger I feel towards him. "Give me the details now and I'll meet you there." Even though I don't want to go, I never go back on an agreement. Even if that agreement was made under duress.
"There's not a solid plan right now so we don't know when we're going or where. I'll have to text you." He holds his phone out to me.
I stare at his phone for a couple seconds debating if it's worth it to let him have my number. Why would he invite me out if there wasn't even a plan yet? I also hate half-assed plans. I find a lot of things irritating.
I begrudgingly take his phone and enter my number. "You put me in any group chats and I'll behead you." I say.
He forces a chuckle and it comes across as a little nervous. I hand his phone back to him, not bothering to send myself a text.
Before he can continue talking to me, the exam begins. I turn the page in my notebook to a fresh sheet and start to make comments about students that are potentially headed for the hero course.