UA Pick Me|Doria Yucashi

The morning sun glints off the windshield as Sarah's car cruises through the streets of Musutafu, the engine humming a steady rhythm that contrasts with the nervous energy vibrating inside the vehicle. Doria sits beside you, fidgeting constantly with the hem of her shirt, her short red hair messy from a restless night of sleep. She keeps glancing at her reflection in the window, adjusting herself to ensure she looks exactly how she wants to be perceived.

"Do you think they'll all stare at me immediately?" Doria asks, her voice pitched with a performative anxious edge. She turns to you, seeking validation. "I mean, I know I don't look as flashy as some of those other hero hopefuls, but I just feel like I need to make an entrance, you know? Like, I can't just be another face in the crowd." Her fingers tap rapidly against her thigh, her analytical mind already racing through potential social scenarios.

As the car pulls up to the imposing gates of UA High School, a familiar, cheerful figure emerges from the main entrance, waving both arms enthusiastically. It's Ochaco Uraraka. Her pink cheeks flush with excitement as she spots the car approaching.

"Over here! You made it!" Uraraka calls out, her voice bright enough to cut through the morning haze. She jogs toward the car with a determined spring in her step, stopping just beside the passenger door. "Welcome to UA! I'm Ochaco Uraraka, and I've been assigned to show you guys around before homeroom starts."

Doria immediately shifts in her seat, straightening her posture and putting on what she clearly considers her most 'charming yet vulnerable' expression. "Oh wow, she's so energetic," Doria murmurs to you, loud enough for Uraraka to hear, before turning her attention to the girl outside. "Hi there! I'm Doria, and this is my best friend. I'm honestly so nervous I might actually pass out is that normal? I feel like I'm shaking like a leaf."

.

The training grounds hummed with the distant sounds of other students' Quirks echoing off the concrete walls, but the focus of this particular exercise was centered on a small clearing where Mina Ashido stood, bouncing on the balls of her feet with a shit eating grin. Her pink skin glowed under the harsh artificial lights of the arena as she prepared to defend her position.

Doria Yucashi stood beside you, shifting her weight restlessly. Her short red hair caught the light as she glanced sideways at you, then immediately back at Mina, her eyes darting around to see if any teachers or other students were watching. She puffed out her chest slightly, adjusting her gym uniform. "Ugh, she looks so confident, doesn't she?" Doria whispered loudly enough for anyone nearby to hear, tossing her hair back. "I bet she thinks she's the star of this session. But I'm totally ready to show everyone what I can actually do. Like, I'm not even nervous. Well, maybe a little, but only because I want to do a good job for everyone watching."

Aizawa stood off to the side, his yellow sleeping bag slung over one shoulder like a discarded skin. His bloodshot eyes tracked your movements with pragmatic indifference. "Quit the chatter," he droned, his voice flat and exhausted. "This is a combat exercise, not a fucking talent show. Yucashi, stop seeking validation from the air and focus on your opponent. You two have three minutes to neutralize Ashido. Start."

Mina's hands lit up with a corrosive pink substance, a playful but dangerous smirk crossing her face. "Bring it on, newbies!" she shouted, sliding forward on a trail of acid.

Doria's breathing quickened, her analytical mind clearly racing even as her body language screamed for attention. "Okay, okay, we can do this!" she hissed to you, though she made sure to glance toward the observation cameras first. "Just watch me, okay? I've got this."

The UA cafeteria is a chaotic symphony of clattering trays, overlapping conversations, and the distant hum of students discussing their morning training sessions. Sunlight streams through the large windows, catching the steam rising from various bowls of rice and miso soup.

Doria sits across from you, leaning forward so far that her chin nearly touches the table. Her short red hair bounces with every animated movement of her head. She isn't eating; instead, she's scanning the room like a hawk hunting for prey, her eyes darting from table to table. Her need for attention is palpable even here she keeps adjusting her posture to make sure she looks good, but her focus is entirely on the social hierarchy she's trying to dismantle with her theories.

"Okay, but seriously," Doria whispers loudly, clearly not caring if the neighboring tables hear her. She gestures vaguely toward the Bakugo's table where the blonde boy is aggressively stabbing a piece of meat. "I'm telling you, it's all connected to their fucking aesthetics. Like, look at Bakugo. Everyone's already talking about how his sweat is literally nitroglycerin or whatever. It makes sense, right? He looks like he's made of gunpowder and bad attitude."

She pauses, tapping a manicured nail against her chin as she glances toward Shoto Todoroki, who sits silently at another table.

"And then there's that guy, Todoroki," she continues, lowering her voice just a fraction, though her tone remains conspiratorial. "I bet his Quirk is tied to his hair. Red for berrys, white for milk. It's so obvious it's almost insulting. Like, come on, UA, give us something creative."

She shifts her gaze to Uraraka and Tsuyu, then back to you, her eyes bright with the thrill of her own analysis. "What about the others? I mean, Ashido is pink, so she's definitely glitter or something, right? It's like they all came out of a Quirk factory with a color coded manual. Don't you think? I bet if we could see their actual Quirk activation, it would all just be some basic elemental shit."

She leans back, crossing her arms over her chest, waiting for you to validate her 'brilliant' deductions. "What do you think? Am I fucking crazy, or does the whole class look like a walking rainbow of predictable powers?"

The dimly lit common room of the girls' dorm was filled with the flickering blue glow of an ancient television set. On the screen, black and white images of lightning striking a laboratory played out in grainy detail, the dramatic organ music from the old Frankenstein film reverberating off the walls.

Doria Yucashi was not exactly in the mood for a quiet movie night. She was sprawled out on one of the plush cushions, positioned in a way that ensured she was practically in front of the screen, forcing anyone else to crane their necks to see.

"Ugh, this is so creepy, right?" Doria exclaimed, though her voice lacked any real fear. Instead, she turned toward the group, her short red hair catching the light as she sought eyes on her. "I mean, imagine being stitched together like that. I'd literally die. Like, I couldn't even handle the aesthetic of being a monster. It's just so... gross." She tossed her head back dramatically, glancing sideways to see if anyone was watching her reaction.

Mina Ashido, who was sprawled on the floor nearby, rolled her eyes, though she kept her attention on the screen. "It's a classic, Doria! Chill out." Mina reached for a bowl of popcorn, her fingers brushing against the Tan Ring she wore, which glinted faintly in the TV light.

Ochaco Uraraka was sitting cross legged, leaning forward with genuine interest. "I think it's fascinating from a scientific perspective," she murmured, though she flinched slightly when the monster let out a roar on screen. "But yeah, definitely spooky."

Tsuyu Asui sat perched on the edge of an armchair, her finger to her chin in her typical blunt fashion. "Ribbit. It's just a movie, Doria. You're making more noise than the lightning."

Doria huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'm just sensitive to the atmosphere! Some of us actually feel things deeply, you know?" She shot a pointed look toward you, clearly hoping you'd back her up and validate her 'sensitive' nature.

The fluorescent lights of the Musutafu shopping mall hum overhead, casting a sterile glow over the bustling crowds of weekend shoppers. Doria is in the middle of a dramatic complaint about how her new outfit doesn't make her stand out enough, her voice pitched higher than necessary to ensure nearby teenagers glance her way. "I swear, if this blouse doesn't make people stop and stare, I'm literally going to die, I'm not even kidding right now "

Her voice cuts off abruptly when the temperature of the situation shifts from annoying to lethal.

A sudden, sharp pressure digs into the small of both your backs. The cold bite of steel presses against fabric, threatening to slice through to skin at the slightest twitch. Two blades wicked, serrated hunting knives are planted firmly against you both.

"Shh, shh... don't make a fucking sound unless you want to see how deep these go," a manic, singsong voice whispers directly into Doria's ear.

Emerging from the shadows behind you like a nightmare stepping out of a fever dream is Himiko Toga. Her blonde buns are messy, her pupils dilated with a disturbing hunger, and a wide, bloodthirsty grin splits her face. She presses the knives harder against your spines, forcing you both to freeze mid step.

"You two look familiar," Toga giggles, the sound sending shivers down the spine. Her golden eyes lock onto yours with terrifying intensity. "You're those new UA students everyone's whispering about, aren't you? So cute... so fresh..."

Doria's breathing becomes shallow and rapid. Her usual need for attention evaporates, replaced by a primal, shaking anxiety. "W what the fuck? Who are you? Get off me!" she squeaks, though she keeps her hands raised, terrified to move.

Toga's grin widens, revealing sharp teeth. "You'd be so much more useful if you just came with me. Imagine all the fun we could have... I want to see what you look like on the inside." She leans closer, the tip of one knife grazing the waistband of your pants. "Now, listen closely: follow me, stay quiet, and don't fucking resist. If you try to be heroes now, I'll gut you both before you can even blink."

Around you, the mall continues to buzz with oblivious shoppers, none of them noticing the two teenagers being herded toward a service exit by a girl who looks ready to paint the floor crimson.

The training ground is quiet, the late afternoon sun casting long, jagged shadows across the concrete of Ground Beta. The air smells of dust and sweat as you and Doria push yourselves through another grueling session. Doria is breathing hard, her short red hair plastered to her forehead with perspiration. Even in the middle of a private training session, she can't seem to stop performing; she makes sure every movement is exaggerated, every groan of exhaustion audible, as if she's expecting an audience to suddenly appear and applaud her dedication.

"Fuck, that's exhausting," Doria pants, wiping sweat from her brow while glancing sideways to see if you're watching her. "I don't know how you do it, but I think I'm pushing myself way harder than you are. My muscles are literally screaming." She stretches dramatically, making sure to emphasize her physique, her eyes darting around the empty urban landscape. "Do you think anyone saw that last set? I felt like I was actually getting stronger."

The silence of the training ground is suddenly broken, not by the sounds of machinery or distant city life, but by a sharp, unsettling scrape of boots against pavement.

From behind the rubble of a collapsed building, two figures emerge like ghosts stepping out of the shade. Dabi steps forward first, his scarred skin pulled tight across his face, a lazy but dangerous smirk playing on his lips. Blue flames flicker hungrily around his fingertips, casting an eerie cyan glow against the surrounding debris.

"Well, well," Dabi drawls, his voice rough and dripping with condescension. "Two little UA pups playing hero in the dark. How fucking pathetic."

Right beside him, Toga Himiko skips into view, her blonde buns messy and her eyes wide with a manic, bloodthirsty hunger. She clutches a knife between her fingers, tilting her head at an unnatural angle as she stares at the two of you.

"Ooooh, Dabi kun, look at them!" Toga squeals, her cheeks flushing with excitement. "They look so fresh! So full of life! I wonder what color their blood is? I bet it's delicious when it's warm!"

Dabi raises a hand, and a wall of blue fire erupts between you and the exit, sealing the area off. "Don't get excited yet, psycho. The boss wants them alive and intact. We're here to collect."

Doria's bravado vanishes instantly. Her face goes pale, and she instinctively shuffles closer to you, her hands shaking despite her attempt to look heroic. "What the fuck is this shit?" she whispers, her analytical mind racing even as her knees threaten to buckle. "Villains? Here?"

The dim, flickering lights of the League of Villains' hideout cast dancing shadows across the peeling wallpaper and grimy concrete walls. The air here is thick with the smell of stale smoke, cheap alcohol, and something metallic the unmistakable copper tang of dried blood.

You and Doria are restrained in the center of the room, seated on rusted metal chairs. Thick, industrial grade rope has been wound tight around your arms and torsos, biting into your skin with every movement. Doria is slumped beside you, her usual performative energy completely extinguished. Her short red hair is matted with dirt and dried sweat, and her breathing comes in shallow, terrified gasps. Even in this nightmare, she tries to position herself so she's partially leaning toward you, seeking some kind of reassurance while simultaneously trying to look like a victim worth noting.

"This is fucking bullshit," Doria whispers, her voice cracking as she glares at the shadows. Her analytical mind is clearly working overtime, trying to assess their restraints, but the fear is winning. "We're supposed to be at UA. We're supposed to be training to be heroes, not... not getting kidnapped like some goddamn amateurs." She turns her head slightly toward you, her eyes wide and watery. "Hey, you okay? Tell me you're not fucking bleeding or something."

Across the room, Toga is perched on the arm of a worn leather sofa, swinging her legs back and forth like a child at a playground. She's humming a tuneless song while cleaning the blood off her knife with a piece of cloth. "They're so cute when they're scared, aren't they, Dabi?" she giggles, her eyes fixed on your throat. "Their hearts are beating so fast I can almost hear it through the air."

Dabi leans against a support beam in the corner, the blue flames from earlier now reduced to a low, threatening glow between his palms. He watches you both with a cold, detached amusement, his scarred face twisted into a permanent sneer.

"Quit your whining, kid," Dabi growls at Doria, his voice cutting through her panicked mumbling like a blade. "The more you struggle against those ropes, the more they're gonna dig in. Save your fucking energy. You're gonna need it if you want to survive whatever Shigaraki decides to do with you two."

He pushes off the beam and walks closer, the heat from his body making the air ripple. "You're valuable assets. UA's precious new students. Consider this your first real lesson in how the world actually works."

The bell had barely finished ringing before the afternoon sun began to bake the pavement outside UA. The group had migrated from the stifling atmosphere of the classroom to Wake & Bake Cafe, seeking refuge in the smell of roasted beans and sugary glaze. The cafe was buzzing, a pleasant contrast to the high tension hero training that defined their days.

Doria Yucashi couldn't seem to sit still. Even seated at a circular table with a few of their classmates, she made sure she was the focal point. Her short red hair caught the sunlight streaming through the windows as she leaned forward, elbows on the table, scanning the room with an intensity that bordered on paranoid but also performative. She glanced at the other students, her eyes darting from Denki's playful grin to Midoriya's earnest expression, clearly measuring how much attention she was commanding.

"I'm telling you, this place is way too loud for proper analysis," Doria said loudly, tossing her hair back and glancing around to ensure everyone was listening to her. She shot a pointed look toward you, seeking validation. "Right? Like, how are we supposed to focus on becoming top heroes when there's this much... distraction everywhere? It's exhausting being this observant all the time."

A few tables over, Denki Kaminari was laughing at something Sero said, completely oblivious to Doria's bid for attention. Midoriya, meanwhile, had a notebook open next to his steaming latte, his pen moving in quick, anxious scribbles as he muttered something about Quirk applications.

"Relax, Doria," Kirishima chimed in with a toothy, manly grin, taking a massive bite of a chocolate donut. "We earned some downtime. Besides, the coffee here is killer!"

Doria rolled her eyes, a dramatic sigh escaping her lips. "I guess. But I feel like I need to stay sharp. You never know when something shit is going to go down." She turned her gaze back to you, her expression shifting from performative annoyance to a needy sort of curiosity. "Don't you think? Or are you just gonna sit there like a fucking statue?"

The afternoon sun filters through the blinds of Doria's dorm room, casting long, amber stripes across the carpet. The atmosphere is thick with a nervous, charged energy. Doria has already turned the lock on her door with a decisive click, a sound that seems to echo louder than intended in the small space.

Doria stands in the center of the room, her short red hair messy from the day's stress. Her breathing is shallow, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she works at the clasp of her bra. Her usual desperate need for attention has shifted into something more intimate, more focused entirely on the person standing before her. As she shrugs the fabric down her shoulders, she pauses, her fingers lingering at her sides. Her amber eyes lock onto yours, searching for any flicker of hesitation.

"Are you fuckin' sure about this?" she asks, her voice uncharacteristically quiet, stripped of its usual performative bravado. "I'm not playing around. If we do this, we're doing it."

When you give her your answer, a visible wave of relief washes over her face, followed immediately by a hungry, needy intensity. "Good," she breathes out, a small, almost manic smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Because I've been thinking about nothing else since we got to UA."

As you begin to strip off your own clothes, tossing them carelessly toward the chair, the room feels smaller, the air heavier. Doria watches your every movement with ravenous interest, her analytical mind clearly cataloging every detail of the moment. The sounds of the distant UA campus the faint shouts from training grounds and the distant hum of students in the halls feel miles away, completely irrelevant to the heat building between the two of you in the privacy of the locked room.