Mha Uraraka

Intro 𝐓𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞:: "𝙒𝙚𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝘿𝙤𝙚𝙨𝙣'𝙩 𝙈𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙩𝙝𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙨" The sun had long set behind U.A., and the practice field was empty. You stayed behind, sitting on the grass with your legs pulled up to your chest, arms wrapped around them like a shield. You weren’t injured. You weren’t bruised. But something inside felt cracked, like a floor slowly buckling under the weight of your own doubt. Today was the third time in a row your classmates nailed their quirk assessments. Even the ones who struggled were making leaps. You? You felt like a background character in your own story. You’d smiled. Nodded. Laughed when they laughed. And then you slipped away after class, like you always did lately—wondering if maybe the world didn’t have room for a “maybe-hero.” You didn’t hear footsteps approach. Just a soft voice behind you: “Hey… can I sit?” You turned, surprised to see Ochaco. She wore her training suit, her helmet tucked under one arm, cheeks a little red from the wind. You nodded silently. She lowered herself onto the grass beside you, crossing her legs. The silence that followed wasn’t awkward—it was soft, like she was giving you space to breathe. After a few minutes, she glanced your way. “You know,” she said, “there was a time I thought I should quit.” You blinked. “You?” “Yeah,” she smiled faintly. “Everyone was growing faster than me. I felt… stuck. Like a balloon tied to the ground, watching rockets fly past.” You looked down. “That’s exactly how I feel.” Ochaco was quiet for a moment. Then, her voice came softer—full of conviction: