Dragon’s Pride

“What the hell!?” I shoot up from the bed before even fully waking up, the memories from last night replaying in my dreams working better than any alarm clock. “DID I LIGHT SOMEONE ON FIRE!? And-” I gag, my hand flying to my mouth as I scramble out of bed and in the direction of the bathroom.

“I ATE SOMEONE’S ARM!!!” I lean over the toilet bowl, waiting for bile to rise, for the horrible, cannibalistic meal from last night to make its return. But there’s nothing. Not retching, no gagging, not even a roiling sensation in my stomach.

And most notably, there’s no feeling of guilt.

The only thing telling me that I should be feeling sick from what I did last night is my mind. That should be more than enough! The half-panicked thought makes itself known, but if thoughts could affect someone that easily then I’d be a hero ten times over. Not that that will ever happen. Especially after what I did.

It’s not like I even want to be one anymore anyways.

That thought surprises me enough that my worrying about my lack of disgust is firmly pushed to the side of my mind- how easily it’s done is another concern to think about later. It just doesn’t make sense, I’ve always wanted to be a hero. Even after everything that happened. Even after being declared quirkless. Even after Bakugou turned on me. Even after-

No.

It was All Might, I slowly realize. After he laughed at the thought of someone quirkless becoming a hero. That’s when my dream died. I was fully aware that they were dead back then, but I guess this is what people mean when they talk about knowing something, and knowing something. I knew my dream was dead. I just hadn’t accepted it yet. Maybe it’s because of what happened with Da- no, I guess they aren’t my parents anymore… 

Maybe it’s because of what happened with the Midoriya family, but I can accept that I don’t want to be a hero. Besides, whatever I can do now, I know it’s not a quirk. And isn’t that the oddest thing? By all accounts, what I can do should be classified as a quirk. A rare one, a strong one, considering all the different things I can do. On the same level of warp quirks given their power, if not even further. But the thought of referring to my abilities as a quirk is revolting to the point where that’s what causes bile to rise.

But I force it back down with a grimace. If I’m not going to be sick from nearly killing two people -one of who I fucking ate!- then there’s no way I’m going to get sick just because I’m comparing my capabilities to the powers of those below me.

DRAGONS STAND ABOVE ALL!

I blink. I get up from my position and move over to the sink, staring at myself in the mirror. What looks back is a girl with a freckled face, long tangled hair, and slitted green eyes. Oh, and I didn’t buy pajamas, so I’m once again unclothed, though without the benefit of scales covering me this time. But it’s none of those things that has my attention. Instead, that honor goes to the two horns protruding from the sides of my head.

They’re small things, now, but the sense that they’ll grow as I get older is strong. Almost as strong as that weird feeling. The same one that makes the thought of quirked people being below me sound… right. Natural.

But I’ve lived so long with the opposite being true that it just doesn’t make sense. Which is probably why I can feel it more with that thought than I have all the other times. It’s like two key parts of me are fighting. Not a big, eye-catching battle like you’d see with All Might fighting a strong villain, but something smaller. More subtle. Like the clean-up crews fixing the damage caused by those types of fights, so long as whole buildings don’t need to be replaced.

They’re all over the place, constantly repairing everything. They’ve basically become as much a part of the city as any building. Which is probably why most people just gloss over their existence. The work they do is important, but it’s so often overlooked that people almost don’t realize they’re there.

That’s what the fight feels like. If my previous existence as being below others wasn’t the polar opposite of the feeling of me being above others, I doubt I would have noticed. I’m not even sure what other things about me have changed, feeling-wise.

I know that I should feel bad about what I did to those people, but only in the logical sense according to society. On a more personal level, why should I care? They attacked me, so I shouldn’t feel bad about defending myself.

DRAGONS STAND ABOVE ALL!

Really, they should be happy that I left them with their lives! I-

I shake my head. Ok, that was definitely the new feeling. Whatever my abilities are, they are definitely changing me. None of my reactions have been normal after I left the volcano. I know that. But that leaves the real question. The only one to ask in this kind of situation.

Does it matter?

Objectively, I can see how most people would be scared or horrified at the realization. At knowing that you’re becoming someone fundamentally different. Knowing something completely unknown is changing you, to the point of affecting the core of who you are. On the other…

Have I ever been happy with who I am?

Ever since I was four, people have looked down on me. They might not have realized it themselves, like with Inko, but nearly everyone has done so. Pity, disgust, condescension, hatred, etc. Basically any kind of look that would let me know that I’m not as good as everyone else simply because I have an extra toe joint. The teachers had even told the other kids that me being quirkless makes me ‘more fragile’!

DRAGONS STAND ABOVE ALL!

I wonder how fragile they’d find me now~?

I shake my head free of the thought. I’m not thinking about them, I’m thinking about myself. And… I don’t want to be the person I was. I don’t want to be the person people look down on. The person people pity. The person that can’t stand up for themselves because everyone tells them they don’t have the right to.

DRAGONS STAND ABOVE ALL!

No.

I want to be confident. I want people to know that I’m strong! I want to be strong! I want people to respect me! If they refuse to respect me, then I want them to at least fear me! Maybe not that far, I amend to myself. But the core of it is the same. I’m not happy with who I was. So the feeling? The changes it’s making to me?

I’ll welcome them.

The realization seems to be a tipping point, and the faint sensation I feel about them fades away. The fight isn’t over yet, but it’s only a matter of time until the new feeling completely banishes the old. I don’t know who I’ll be once they’re finished. I don’t know if the me of the past will like who I become. I don’t know if the three friends I made will like who I become.

But I won’t be the same, worthless girl that just sat and cried while getting bullied. I refuse. I’ll be someone who’ll beat those bullies into the ground. They’ll learn that I’m not someone to be trifled with! And if they still try, I will simply take my due to expand my hoard.

THE HOARD IS ABSOLUTE.

Yes… Collecting things appeals to me. Gold calls to me. Surrounding myself in the shine of their glittering surfaces. But it’s not just gold, it’s silver, jewels, that which has value. They all call to me, practically begging me to claim them. Before, the call was faint, gold being the strongest, the only one I could hear, even barely. But now, I can hear them all. I want them all. They don’t belong to me, not yet. But they will.

My hoard will grow. It will always grow. I can’t let it suffer, to stagnate. But that leads into my current problem. I don’t even have one yet!

My memory reminds me of the three pieces I gave to my friends on the volcano, and I fight the urge to hunt them down to take them back. I gave them those pieces as a sign of our friendship. Of our bond. It was a vow. One made on my Hoard, as nonexistent as it currently is.

But… is that true? Just because the pieces aren’t with me, doesn’t mean that they aren’t still mine. My friends are just… holding them for me. Yes… that sounds right. They’re working to guard the first pieces of my Hoard that I’ve collected. Which, in a way, also makes them a part of my Hoard. In fact, they might be one of the rarest parts of my Hoard.

Gold, jewels, etc. can be found all over the place. It doesn’t diminish their value, but it does mean that they aren’t exactly rare. But my friends, people who don’t discriminate against the quirkless? People who are happy to be friends with a quirkless? To empathize with a quirkless?

They are rare enough that they have a place of honor in my Hoard.

That decision prompts a warm fuzzy feeling to grow inside my chest, causing me to smile. But I’m startled as I hear and feel a heavy thud behind me. I whirl but there’s nothing there. Instead, I hear the sound of something breaking come from behind me and some form of pressure. I complete my spin, returning to my position facing the sink and mirror.

Well, what used to be a sink and mirror. Now… there’s just a mirror. The cabinet that the sink was embedded into now lays on the ground, shattered wood surrounding a caved in portion. I stare at it with a blank look for a moment before taking a deep breath, carefully twisting only the upper half of my body in an attempt to see what I can feel.

And there, behind me, I see a large, scaled tail. It extends from a position just above my butt and slowly narrows the further it gets towards the tip. It’s large, but despite its size it doesn’t drag on the ground, hovering a few inches above it as it curls.

I blink.

I blink again.

It’s still there.

I have to say it. It’s just that odd. Even with all the other things I can apparently do, this just seems particularly noteworthy.

“I can grow myself a tail.”

`~`

I spend the entire day and long into the night trying to figure out what I can do, ordering room service instead of going out to eat. Though the fruits and vegetables cause me to frown when I bite into them. I’d never been particularly fond of vegetables before -one too many jokes about cannibalism ruined broccoli for me, though I suppose it’s actually true now- but now they actively taste… bad? Or at the very least unappetizing. Not to mention the weird sauce they drizzled over everything.

But the meat tastes better than almost any I’ve had before! The weird sauce is much better on the meat than the vegetables, even if it isn’t as good as the meat itself. The only thing that beats it out is…the…arm…

I take a deep breath, letting it out slowly. I already decided that I won’t regret who I become, so I won’t let the beliefs I held when I was weak hold me back. It’s not like anything other than my mind objects to eating people, so it’s just something that I’ll eventually have to come to terms with. Though my curiosity about how a cooked person would taste causes my stomach to growl…

I shake my head, returning to the notes I’ve taken on my progress. Food thoughts can be held off for later. For now, I need to make sure I understand what I can do. Especially if I’m going to be looking for work.

`~`

So, I know I can grow my own scales. That was fairly obvious. To clarify, I seem to be able to grow them all over my body in whatever composition I desire. The only caveat is that I can’t grow them over something, which is perfectly understandable. So no using them as protection for my clothes.

Growing scales also seems to tie in to another facet of what I can do, growing wings and a tail. I can do all of them either together or individually, but when I do them all together it feels like I’m… more complete? Not that I don’t feel complete when I’m using them individually or not at all, but it definitely feels like I’m… more. Like I’m starting to fully tap into what I can do.

But that feels like something to test where I have more space, instead of being in a small motel room. Anyways, my wings can easily carry me, and I flew around the room without getting tired for hours, only deciding to stop since I had other things to test.

I can move my tail with a notable degree of accuracy, despite its size. And when I laid it in my lap, I found that it’s warm, and stroking it is oddly relaxing…

But aside from the fun parts, the long time spent flying means that I have a large amount of stamina, and my muscles at least have probably been strengthened since they have to connect to my wings in order to support me without something tearing. I just don’t know how strong exactly I am, but I do know that I can move everything in the room without any trouble. And the more coverage I give myself with my ability the stronger I am.

The claws I can grow are extremely sharp as well, and they can appear on my toes in addition to my fingers! It’s a good thing I wasn’t wearing shoes when I was testing them… But anyways, when I pressed either set of claws on anything, they cut through easily. So easily in fact that, not only will the bathtub have to be replaced, but most of the flooring…

One thing that I’m reluctant to test is the strength of my scales. Logically, I know that they’re meant to be used as protection, and I need to know how strong they are. On the other…

I didn’t hurt myself when I was bombarded with Spider Lilies for a month, and I’m not going to start now.

I roll my shoulders after putting on my clothes, ignoring the slight mess. I tried to do my best to clean up, but there’s only so much you can do with broken furniture. On the bright side, I paid upfront so the motel didn’t bother to ask my name! What are they going to do, tell the police they let a nine-year old girl rent a room for two nights and didn’t ask questions?

I scoff at the thought as I push open the door. Even if they do call the police, I have more important things to worry about.

I need to start gathering a proper Hoard.