Chapter Text
A teenage girl, dressed in what looked like silk pyjamas looked into the camera, the low-definition, blurry image distorting the dark room behind her.
"Uh, hello?"
She shook her head repeatedly: a habit her parents had tried and failed to train her out of. She reached up, holding a hairband she'd quickly grabbed, and wrestled her long, dark hair into a ponytail. She irritatedly blew the stands that fell out of the elastic band off her face, exposing calm charcoal eyes.
"So. Hello. Um, I'm Momo Yaoyorozu. I'm fifteen, and I go to uhh, U.A. Academy, which is quite fun, although our teacher hates that, he says, um, that heroism isn't something we should be taking lightly, which I guess we know now. Anyway, uh, it's the twenty-first of April, 2145, and today we got attacked at the USJ. And I couldn't sleep, so Ryo-sensei said earlier that uhh, if we felt that we couldn't sleep and didn't want to bother him, we could try and write down how we're feeling, and um, I tried and this is what happened, uh, here-"
The camera shakily turned to show a Word document displayed on a bright laptop screen. The blinking clock in the corner showed ‘11:32 p.m.’ and the blurry word document displayed just one word: ‘Scared’.
“And, yeah, I just couldn't think of anything past that. So I’m trying something new, because when I searched it up, the internet said that some people have trouble with writing their feelings down, and it said to try saying them out loud instead, and that some people record it, or vlog it. So that’s what I’m trying. So the website said to try running through words until you hit upon something that sounds right. Okay. Urm, angry, maybe a little bit, not much. Stressed. Yeah, pretty stressed. Midoriya, I think his name is, he broke his arms, and his legs, fighting the Nomu, and I couldn’t even do anything about it, so that’s probably more like . . . helplessness? Probably. And anxiety . . . Oh. I’m pretty worried. I don’t think Iida’s okay either. I’ve known him since we were toddlers, and I think he’s blaming himself for not being there at the USJ while the fighting was going on. I reckon that he’s sorry for not being there, even though there was nothing he could have done better than go and get All Might-sensei and the other senseis. We couldn’t have survived without Iida running like he did to get back up. I think that if the teachers hadn’t got there when they did, someone would have died.”
Somewhere in the background, a phone buzzed. Momo whipped her head around and shakily laughed when she saw there was nothing there.
“Ju=my phone. Okay. I guess I’m a little bit jittery after today.”
She crawled over to her bedside table and grabbed her phone. The bright screen light on her face made the strawberry-red blush visible as she scrolled through her phone.
“Oh my god oh my god. Okay. It’s fine. It’s fine. She’s fine. I’m fine. Okay.”
Slate-grey eyes flickered to the camera and back down to her phone.
“This is Jiro, a girl in my class. She’s . . . wow. She’s probably not into girls though. I mean, she might be? But probably not. I’d have no chance anyway. I – she most likely doesn’t like girls like me. I’m too – Oh, I don’t know, too posh, or she'd only date me for the money, or maybe she’s only into girls who like punk rock and stuff. She’s so cool and stuff and likes really old music, and I like classical music! Classical! It’s like that one song! But . . . Yeah. I think she’s awesome. I should probably go to sleep soon. And hopefully everyone will be a-okay in the morning.”
A pale hand with slender fingers reached out, and the camera went blank.