fly high

<i>3...2...1. All at once, muscles tensed. Nostrils flared, and eyes opened. The silent starting gun was fired, and the athletic Jet Hero was off. Footfalls were quick, even for a man with a stride such as his own. A full out sprint, rather than a jog was needed for the track. This wasn't about endurance, this was simply about speed. He was feeling cooped up ever since that day. Since he was in the hospital recovering. His wings felt weak, his muscles needed a wake-up. His mind needed a wake-up. The first bend was coming up, sweat forming on his brow as sneaker-covered feet kicked up dust behind him. The exercise was an important part of his routine. Maintaining peak physical performance was who he was. He had seen what someone could look like at their lowest. What Icarus must have felt once crashing into the ocean. Fighting a Pro Hero was no simple feat. Especially considering the circumstances. But, he wouldn't have pushed as hard as he had if it was anyone else. His body adjusted, leaning slightly to his right as he sped around the wide bend, staying in his lane, even if the whole track was empty. His eyes looking towards the center area, where the green astroturf sat for other activities. -- "<b>Listen to me, Aiza.</b>" Satori spoke, her hair flowing softly from the air coming into the hospital's window, like feathers upon a bird's wings. Steely grey eyes turning to look back towards the bed-ridden hero-in-training. He was looking at his cast arm, eyes squinting at it for a moment before his golden hues turned to look at her. "<b>I know you beat that bastard. And frankly, I couldn't be prouder of you. But...don't let this victory get to your head.</b>" She stood up straight, throwing her jacket over her shoulder while the room once again fell silent. "<b>You beat a man like him to the ground. One of the Top Heroes in America. But look at you now.</b>" She walked over, lifting her hand and smacking his bad upper arm, to which he hissed some, but didn't look up angrily up at her. He had a more understanding look. "<b>Imagine if he was a real villain. I read the report. You're lucky to still have the arm!</b>" Pulling up a chair, she sat backward on it, and let their gazes stare at one another. "<b>...Naomi would have been better at this shit. She was the hero, after all. I don't know what having a Quirk is like. But I know how it can feel to get that victory. You let it get to your head. You've piqued. You can't get any higher. When you've beat Number One, how are you supposed to get any better? And that's how the plummet begins.</b>" -- His feet picked up faster after the bend, and onto the next stretch, his panting was sharp through his teeth, cutting the air while venting out hot air through his nose. <b>Faster...Faster!</b> Even after restarting his training, his muscles always felt tired. No doubt the reasoning was his stint in that hospital bed, but the words his surrogate mother spoke rang out in his head. Was that fight the biggest one he'd ever have? The only challenge he'd ever face? His mind rattled on, causing his fingers to ball into tighter fists during his sprint. He felt free, but where was next? He wanted to prove him wrong, and when he did, he felt a life-time of shackles and weights fall behind him. But he felt aimless. His dreams suddenly felt so wide and big. --"<b>I've seen how you look at that Uraraka girl. Its cute, really.</b>" She spoke through the smoke coming from her nose. Once dinner was done, and it was time for the two to part ways, Aiza and Satori stood on the sidewalk, looking at the opposite end of the street at nothing. "<b>Shooting Stars, huh? Your mom would have loved that.</b>" She had plenty of photos of the two. They were sisters, after all. Shared the same blood, just one came out a hero, while the other was left with no way to follow. It wasn't to say they weren't loved equally. She looked so happy and radiant in the pictures he saw of her. It was weird to see how similar they looked, and yet, how different they ended up. Satori took another drag of her cigarette, letting smoke collect in her lungs before exhaling up into the air. "<b>Its a long shot, kid. But, your weasel of a principal tells me good things. Who knows? Maybe you'll get scouted. Maybe you'll need to claw your way to the top. But, I can't help but be a little proud.</b>" Aiza's eyes turned towards her, while she lifted her hand to pluck the half-burnt cigarette from her lips. "<b>Don't give me a look like that. Every wall that's been put in front of you, you've clobbered through or flown over. I know she'd be proud. So, just like I do. When there's something that's in your way-</b>" -- "-fly over it! Fly through it!" He shouted to himself, the second bend was coming, the tilt in his body shifting his weight once more, breaking out at a faster pace for the final stretch. His body was aching, muscles burning now. The caged bird flapped his wings hard to break through the metal bars. And yet, he was never alone, to begin with. His friends, his classmates, everyone who encouraged his strides were bending at the bars too. And it took one hard thrust, the entire weight of the eagle to ram against the weakest point before it warped and released it. Mangled and bloody, but free. The pain was temporary, but he couldn’t stop now. Freedom was just the first step. And even if it felt so overwhelming right now, he knew he wasn’t alone. He crossed the starting line in a flash of an eye, slowing his footsteps until he came to a stop, and bent over to hold his knees. Drops of sweat fell from his brow, staining the ground below him as he slowed his breathing to regulate his rapidly beating heart. He needed a moment, his body having been neglected of this harsh of a push for some time. But...it was invigorating. He stood up straight, and tilted his head back, looking up towards the blue eye with a glint in his eyes. That spark of defiance that still burned in his heart. And his left hand lifted, fingers splayed out, looking to the ring that shined softly between the light that peeked through. Higher. He’d get higher next time. The only direction to go from here was up. And his fingers slammed shut to grip at the clouds. Stepping towards the bench where his stuff was, he picked up his phone and water bottle. “52 seconds? Ahh shit.” His voice teased to himself, but he looked towards the track while guzzling down water. He was getting back into shape, but it was nowhere near his previous speed. Of course, his track times weren’t the reason he was called the Breakneck Speed Hero. Setting his water bottle down, he clapped his hands against his cheeks and growled out the negative thoughts! But, with red handprints on his cheeks, he got back up on his feet and let out a quick roar! “I can’t let my class think I’m slacking! <b>One more!</b>” Slamming his hands back down on the ground, he took another starting position and gritted his teeth in a wide grin. He was one of the promising students to come out of 2-A for a reason, one of the next Big Three. The reason the rest of his classmates looked up to him and made him their leader. Despite all odds, he kept pushing. Even with his body tired and recovering, he didn’t stop. “<b><u>One More!</b></u>” And like that, the Jet Hero sped off down the track for another lap around the 400-meter track. Their radiant ball of sunlight was blazing a path for the rest of them. If he was to lead, he was to set an example. And he wasn’t giving up any time soon!