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Mina Ashido, More Like Pee-na A-shy-do (I'm so sorry)


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The sound of crying was almost lost under the general hubbub of the mall.

Mina came to a sudden halt right outside the shop she was headed towards, prompting an indignant noise from someone behind her. She ignored them, instead peering around to try and find the source of the noise. Nothing was immediately visible, so she started off in the direction she thought it might be coming from, weaving around the other shoppers on her way.

And there, huddled in a corner a couple of storefronts over, she found a little girl. She was sitting on the floor, curled up on herself, and sobbing quietly.

Mina crouched down in front of her, trying for a reassuring smile. “Hey, sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

The kid looked up at her and didn’t cower away, so it had probably worked. She sniffed, and through her tears managed to say, “I lost my mommy.”

“It’s gonna be okay,” Mina told her. “I can help you get back to her, safe and sound. Yeah?”

“Mommy s-says I’m not s’pos’ta go with strangers,” she pointed out. She very visibly wanted to agree, but she also pulled one hand free of her huddle, revealing fingernails that looked to end in sharp points. This kid had good instincts.

“She’s right,” Mina said. “That’s good advice. But I’m not just any stranger; I’m a hero student. Do you want to see my card?”

The kid nodded, and Mina pulled her provisional license out of her pocket to hand to her. She took it, carefully inspected it (it was unlikely that she actually knew to look for anything in particular, but Mina appreciated the effort, and it would make her feel safer), and handed it back. “Pinky?”

“Yeah!” Mina took it. “It’s ‘cause of my eyes, can’t you tell?”

The joke landed; she broke into a somewhat wet laugh. “No it’s not! It’s your skin, an’, an’ your hair!”

Mina pulled a comically surprised face, putting her hand up to feel at her hair. “Wow, you’re right! You’re really clever! With brains like that to help me I bet we’ll have you back with your mommy in no time!”

She extended a hand to the kid, slowly so as not to spook her. The kid took it and pulled herself upright, not letting go of Mina’s hand as she too stood. Mina picked her up, noticing in the process that her other hand was covered with what looked like a fairly sturdy glove.

Subsequent questioning revealed several things, most notably: her name (Aya); the last place she’d seen her mother (near one of the mall’s exits); and what her mother looked like (mostly unhelpful because small children were not good at describing people but the hair and outfit colors were something to go on). They set off towards said exit, Aya burrowing into her as her tears developed into hiccups.

Halfway there, they ran into an interruption.

Or rather, an interruption caught them, in the form of a hand on her arm and a barked, “Hey!” The hand jerked her around. Aya, startled, yelped and squeezed hard on the hand Mina was holding hers in.

Her assailant was a large man, not tremendously muscular but by no means out of shape. His hair was shaved short, he had several piercings in his ears and one in his eyebrow, and his shirt was emblazoned with a band logo that anyone with a heteromorphic quirk knew as a warning sign. And he was very obviously angry. “What the fuck are you doing with that kid, huh!?”

Mina shrank back as best she could with her arm still in his grip. “I - I’m just-”

“What,” he snarled, “you think you can just walk away with someone’s kid? Think no-one’s gonna see she’s crying, huh, bitch? Where the fuck’s her momma, ‘cause she sure as fuck ain’t yours!

“It-” she stammered. “It’s not like-”

“Hey!” Aya yelled, startling Mina into a jump. “Pinky’s not kidnappin’ me, mister! I lost my mommy an’ she found me and she’s a hero an’ she’s gonna help me! She showed me her hero card! Stop yelling at her, you - you jerk!”

The man only looked angrier at that, face reddening. He looked like he was about to say something else, but then he glanced around at the crowd, a number of whom were now watching them after the respective outbursts. His teeth clenched hard enough to look almost painful, and he let go of her forcefully, almost shoving her away. “Fine,” he growled. And then, muttering “Fucking monster bitch-” he turned sharply and stalked away.

Mina stared after him, heart racing, trying to breathe normally. She was physically shaking, she realized. That wasn’t… what was that? She hadn’t been that afraid of a mutantphobe in years, and even then she usually handled fear better than this. Had he had some kind of fear quirk?

“Pinky?” Aya asked softly. Even that startled her a little, and she berated herself inwardly. She was supposed to be helping this girl, not the other way around. What kind of a hero needed comfort from a little kid?

“I’m fine,” she said, flashing Aya a weak grin. “It’s fine. Come on, let’s go find your mom.”

“Mommy says people like that are bad an’ stupid,” Aya informed her as she resumed walking. “She says good people don’t use words like that, or… or get angry just because someone looks different. We look different too, it’s just a little bit.” She held up her hand, showing off those claws.

“The more I hear about your mom, the smarter she sounds,” Mina said. “I can see how she’s raised such a great kid.”

Aya beamed at her. Mina tried to look on the bright side; at least she was thoroughly distracted from her distress by now.

They made it the rest of the way without being accosted again, thankfully. Aya’s mother was fairly easy to spot; she more or less matched the description Aya had given, and was clearly distraught and talking to someone who looked to be mall security. Mina pointed her out to Aya, who proceeded to shriek “MOMMY!” loud enough to leave a ringing in her ear and try and wriggle out of her grip. Her mother’s head snapped towards them, and she broke off towards them in a near run; Mina moved to meet her at a fast walk, trying to get Aya to settle down rather than running off into the crowd and getting lost again. (She didn’t say that last bit out loud.)

Once they got close Mina opened her arms and Aya practically launched herself off her. Her mother caught her in a tight hug, relieved sobs wracking her. “Oh, baby, you’re okay, thank god you’re okay-”

“Yeah-huh!” Aya announced over her continued relief. “I was lost an’ I couldn’t find you an’ it was really scary but then Pinky found me an’ she’s a hero an’ she rescued me an’ then there was a bad man but he went away an’ then she found you!”

Her mother, naturally, focused on one particular part of that, looking up at Mina with some alarm. “A bad man?”

“A mutantphobe,” Mina confirmed, to her obvious relief. “He saw me with a crying child without a visible quirk and… yeah.” She grimaced, rubbing the back of her neck. Injecting a little more pep into her voice, she continued, “But your daughter yelled at him and he left. My hero,” she grinned, and Aya’s mother gave a watery smile in turn. “She was very brave. The whole time.”

“That’s my girl,” she said, shifting Aya’s weight over to her side. “I can’t thank you enough. If there’s any way I can repay you-”

“You don’t need to do that,” Mina said. “I’m happy to help! Plus, it is my entire job.”

“Even so, thank you so much.” She glanced down at Aya’s hand, which had entered her field of vision. “Oh, baby, you lost your glove?”

“Yeah-huh. Sorry, mommy.”

“It’s okay, darling, that’s why we bring spares with us.” She looked up at Mina again. “She didn’t scratch you, did she?”

“Nope!” Mina said. “Perfect gentleman. Besides, it would take more than a little scratch to take me down!”

“It’s not that,” she said. “Aya inherited my quirk, and it’s still hard for her to control. When we scratch somebody, it amplifies… neuroses, is how I usually put it. Phobias, embarrassing memories, depression… it wears off within a few days, but that can be bad enough. Her father used to struggle with addiction, he’d been clean for almost fifteen years, but he got scratched and the next day he had a relapse. A bad one.”

“Oh no,” Mina gasped.

The relief was gone from her face, replaced by tears and stress, and Aya also looked upset at the memory. “He’s in rehab now, but when he gets out he’s going to move back in with his parents until she can control it, and that took me until I was twelve…” She broke off and sniffed. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t dump all this on you. It’s just, it’s been two months and I’m still struggling to keep up with raising her on my own, and then, today… it’s just, it’s a lot, I’m sorry.”

“No, no, you don’t need to apologize,” Mina told her. “That sounds really hard, I’m sorry all that’s happened to you. I wish there was something I could do to help…” she trailed off as a thought struck her. “Actually, maybe there is! Is Aya seeing a quirk counsellor?”

“Her school has one,” her mother said. “We’ve been trying to get her someone who can give her individual attention, but we’ve never been able to afford it, they’re all so expensive…”

“What’s your school counsellor like, Aya?”

“Mean,” Aya said immediately. “If I don’t do what he says right away he gets angry an’ if somethin’ he says doesn’t work he says I’m stupid or I’m not tryin’ even though I really am. Some of my friends say the same thing but the boys say he’s really nice so I think he’s only like that with the girls an’ Hiromi who’s not either. An’ everything he says is about concentratin’ an’ bein’ calm ‘cause that works for his quirk, he makes it dark by breathin’, but that doesn’t work for me but he doesn’t care.”

“He sounds like a jerk.” Aya nodded, and her mother just looked sad. “My quirk counsellor specialized in full-body heteromorphic quirks, so I don’t think she could help, but I go to UA; I can ask around, see if anybody can recommend someone. Could I get a number or email to reach you with?”

Thank you.” Aya’s mother was tearing up again as she reached for her phone, but this time with relief and hope.

Mina saved her number in her own phone, and after some more effusive thanks they went their separate ways. Mina’s way involved talking to the security person, who wanted to make sure everything was settled; once they’d checked her card they were pretty much willing to take her word for it, so it was smooth sailing from there.

And as she headed back in the direction of the shop she’d been going for originally she checked over the back of her hand; there, as she’d guessed, was a faint row of scratches from a set of claws.


Mina did not report the incident to Mr. Aizawa.

She should have. She knew she should have. But whenever she even considered the idea too hard her breath started to quicken and her chest tightened as though the words were physically lodging themselves there. Telling Aizawa what had happened would mean she had to tell him about the man who had accosted her and then she’d have to explain why and he’d just accuse her of making it up for attention as if she wasn’t garish enough already-

Aizawa wasn’t her third-grade teacher and a bigot accosting her was not class bully Taichi stepping on snails in front of her “because that’s what you do with gross slimy things”, but her anxieties were not so easily convinced.

Just a few days. Before too long Aya’s quirk would wear off and she could explain everything then. Aizawa would understand.

She felt terrible for letting fear make her put off helping Aya like she’d promised, but the best people to ask would be the teachers, and even if she went to a student they’d wonder why she wasn’t asking the teachers, and then she’d have to explain, and they’d tell the teachers - She couldn’t. She couldn’t do it.

So she ignored the guilt and the gnawing anxiety and covered them up with her characteristic cheer. Mina was good at smiling through her problems. She’d been practicing for years.


It wasn’t until a couple of hours after she got back that she noticed everything she’d drunk since that morning catching up to her, and another hour before it really started nagging at her enough to go to the bathroom. She lifted the lid, sat down, and…

Nothing happened.

She frowned, and tensed her muscles to bear down on her bladder.

Still nothing.

“Shit,” she muttered.

Aya’s quirk amplified neuroses.

Like, say, if a person’s bodily fluids were highly acidic, meaning they couldn’t use normal toilets without damaging them and maybe the pipes, so they’d been brought up from a very young age to only use the special toilet installed in their home that was corrosion-resistant and mixed in a neutralizing agent when it flushed, leading them to internalize that lesson to the point of bladder-shyness - those kinds of neuroses.

She had thought she was done with this, damn it. The first couple of months of living in the UA dorms had been… uncomfortable… but eventually she’d gotten used to it enough to reliably use her bathroom there, and it had been fine since. She just hadn’t reckoned on having it dredged back up.

After a few minutes’ continued effort, she sighed and stood up, still unrelieved. She’d try again later.


Trying again later was not successful, and that night Mina ended up lying in bed for a long time, trying to relax despite the now-insistent pressure in her abdomen. She tossed and turned, each motion shifting the weight of her bladder; she tried lying still, and found that with nothing to distract her from it the urge grew to monopolize her thoughts. Eventually she managed to fall asleep, though it was shallow and restless.

At some point, a pang from her bladder snapped her to sudden consciousness, and she felt ill-rested as though she’d barely slept any to begin with. She didn’t open her eyes, instead squeezing them shut tighter in an attempt to block out the awakeness.

Her muscles clenched, urge spiking again, and put paid to that idea.

She groaned quietly and cracked open her eyes, finding the room still dark. She’d ended up lying on her side, curled up into a foetal position with one arm pressed between her legs. With tremendous reluctance she uncurled, leaving the cozy warmth of her blankets for the cold air of the room at large.

Her bladder protested the sudden cold with another desperate pang. She heaved herself upright and grabbed her phone on the way to her bathroom, where she collapsed onto the toilet with the characteristic grace of the still-half-asleep. She yawned, pressed the button to wake her phone, and narrowed her eyes and hissed at the bright light. Apparently she’d woken about half an hour before her alarm. She groaned again, and slumped dramatically in place.

It still wasn’t working. Now that she was sitting on the toilet her urge had intensified, weight sitting heavy between her legs, but not even a drop escaped her. She put her earphones in and set her phone to playing music, that method having occasionally worked when she first moved in, and tried to focus only on that and relax despite the nagging fullness of her bladder.

She did relax, half-asleep thoughts drifting, but had found no relief by the time her alarm went off and snapped her out of it. Considering she was almost late for class at least three days in five, that meant she was out of time.

Her bladder pounded at being taken away from the toilet still full, but there was nothing she could do but press her thighs together and ignore it.

As she changed out of her pajamas and into her uniform, she saw there was a clear bulge protruding from her lower stomach. The sight wasn’t foreign to her; some distention was relatively common by the end of the school day if she didn’t return to the dorms to use her bathroom during lunch, which - thanks to years of habit from not having an accessible on-campus bathroom - was most days. But it didn’t often get this big, and obviously she didn’t usually start her day like that.

She winced as she fastened her uniform skirt over her bladder. This was not going to be a good day.


She was, in fact, almost late for class, arriving scant minutes before the bell. At least she did better than Kaminari, who hurtled full-speed through the door right as it rang and found himself the target of Mr. Aizawa’s murderous glare.

This was no comfort to her as she sat, legs pressed tightly together, and tried to pay attention to what Aizawa was saying. Over the next few hours teachers cycled in and out as the lessons changed, and her kidneys continued to pump water into her aching, overstretched bladder. At some point she started bouncing her foot unconsciously, then switched to crossing one leg over the other.

Shortly after the beginning of third period a spasm ran through Mina’s bladder; she froze in place as she felt the smallest of drops slip out into her underwear. Her heart somehow managed to soar and sink at once, the hope of finally being able to relieve herself warring with the dread that it might happen against her will, right there in the classroom.

She processed nothing of what Present Mic said over the next fifty minutes, too focused on her all-consuming need to pee. Her legs crossed twice, she bounced in place continually, bar when another cramp seized her bladder and she went completely still, concentrating all her energy on holding it back. A few of those times another drop or two forced its way out; other times, she was able to stop it. She didn’t know which of those options was preferable, and didn’t have the mental space to reach a decision.

After what felt like an eternity, the bell rang for the end of the class. As during the previous breaks, Mina just remained in her seat rather than getting up to join her friends. This time, though, someone approached her.

“You don’t look well,” Tsuyu said, her throat swelling slightly to punctuate the sentence with a croak.

“I’m fine.” The fact that her voice was strained and shaky would have given her away if it hadn’t already been impossible to miss just to look at her, making the lie rather pointless, but with Aya’s quirk still in effect she was utterly unable to admit the truth.

Tsuyu just stared at her, expression unchanging.

“I am,” Mina insisted, utterly unconvincingly.

“I don’t believe you,” Tsuyu said. “You obviously need to use the bathroom.” She croaked again. “Ask All Might when he arrives, Mina. You can’t do heroics like this.”

Mina’s heart dropped; she’d completely forgotten what class was up next. Heroics meant a lot of standing up running around and generally not sitting in place with her legs tied in a knot. Tsuyu was right; she couldn’t do it like this.

“I’ll-” her voice hitched as her bladder spasmed again. “-be fine, Tsu,” she said, wanting the conversation to be over as fast as possible.

“If you say so,” Tsuyu said, and croaked. She gave Mina one last long look, then turned and walked away.

Mina groaned and concentrated on holding on until All Might arrived.

His arrivals were far more subdued ever since his forcible retirement, which under the circumstances was probably for the best, since Mina wasn’t sure how well she could handle being startled. The door simply opened quietly and he walked in. “Alright,” he announced, “everybody get your uniforms, let’s go!”

This left Mina facing her hardest challenge yet: Standing up. With a tremendous effort of will, she uncrossed her legs, got them under her, and heaved herself kind of upright. (It was rather more hunched over than was strictly normal, but she’d take it.) Her bladder took the sudden movement as a chance to let out a squirt, larger than any of the drops she’d lost previously.

She hobbled over to All Might. “All Might? Sir?” She couldn’t tell him what was really wrong with her; her throat just locked up at the thought. “I feel sick,” she said instead. “Can I go back to the dorms?”

All Might turned to look at her as she spoke, taking in her flushed and sweating face, her hunched-over posture, the way she was holding one hand near (but not touching) her stomach, and whatever showed of her poor sleep the previous night. It painted a very convincing picture. “Of course, young Ashido. Go and rest. I’ll tell your teachers where you are.”

“Thank you, sir,” she said, and started to shuffle past him.

“Go see Recovery Girl if it gets any worse,” he advised.

“I will,” she lied. She definitely would not be going to Recovery Girl with this, and she wouldn’t be able to help anyway.

The halls were empty as she made her way slowly towards the dorms. Her hand hovered around her stomach, but she didn’t let herself press it into her crotch, in case anyone came into view suddenly. Instead, she slid it under the bottom of her shirt and gently felt her swollen abdomen. She wasn’t exactly practiced at guessing the size by hand, but it certainly felt enormous.

She pressed her fingers into the skin, finding it taut but still with some give that they could sink into, and then immediately pulled them away and doubled over on the spot as it sent a wave of intense need through her. Honestly, she chided herself, what had she expected?


Mina lay on her bed, sprawled out and trembling, thoughts utterly consumed by the aching, unbearably full mass of her bladder.

She had tried. She had tried so hard. She had sat on the toilet and done all the things the internet said were supposed to help - listening to music, concentrating on math, trying to clear her mind - but none of it had worked. She had tried to force it out, even pressing on her distended stomach with her hand, to no avail. Eventually her legs started to hurt from sitting there for so long, and she’d gotten up - with some difficulty, because they turned out to have fallen asleep - and moved to her bed. Her plan was to jump up and run for the toilet if she felt herself finally lose control, but by this point she’d accept destroying her bed if it meant the pain in her bladder would be gone.

She was so close. She could feel what seemed like an entire lake pressed against her bladder’s exit, held back by a single tired set of muscles that she was trying to make relax. Surely it had to end soon, surely there was only so long she could hold on.

She’d been having much the same thoughts for hours now, but she had to believe it or she didn’t know what she’d do.

So close, she thought. A drop trickled out, as had been happening intermittently the entire time. So close. Almost… 

Someone knocked on her door, and her muscles clamped tight again. She let out a despairing whine.

“Mina?” Tooru called through the door. “The girls are going to watch a movie! You feel up to joining?”

No. No, she was not up to joining. There was no way she could watch a movie in this state. She wasn’t even sure if she could stand up. She just had to refuse. She didn’t even need to explain it. Just say-

“Sure,” her traitorous mouth said. “I’ll be right down.”

Fuck!

Tooru left, and Mina was stuck with the impossible task of getting upright. She slowly pushed herself into a sitting position, and even that felt like pressing a tremendous weight down upon her bladder. A leak squirted forcefully from her onto the bed.

She stood, and nearly fell over. She reached out to catch herself with one hand and the other went to cup her bladder, whose contents felt like they were sloshing around with the sudden motion. She looked down at her abdomen (no longer covered by clothes, for maximum speed of running to the bathroom and also to avoid anything touching her abdomen) and saw it was most certainly the largest it had ever been. It looked like someone had just blown her up like a balloon, a clear dome sticking out inches higher than her stomach, stretching her skin taut.

She pressed her fingers into it again, and for a full second urine sprayed down her legs to pool, hissing, on the floor. She started to lunge towards the bathroom, but stopped when she realized she was still holding on past that one leak.

She tried pressing harder, but to no effect. The flex she had felt from it earlier was gone now; it felt like she was pressing into a rock, her bladder filled absolutely to capacity, no room for even the slightest give.

She struggled into a set of pajamas over a pair of underwear that were quickly moistened by the drops slowly escaping her, and waddled downstairs. She steeled herself, pushing her unbearable desperation and racing heart aside to the very limited degree that she could to try and look normal and not afflicted at all by a bursting bladder and paranoid anxiety.

Most of the girls were gathered in front of the TV. Momo sat at the end of one couch, Kyoka lying across it with her head on Momo’s lap. The other couch held Ochako and Tooru at opposite ends; Ochako looked over at her and went to pat the seat between them, pulling back suddenly and apologizing to Tooru when their hands apparently met in the middle.

“No Tsu?” she asked as she lowered herself carefully into the seat.

“She’s busy,” Ochako explained. “Told us to go on without her.”

Mina nodded. Her attention was diverted by a bladder spasm, and she completely missed Tooru telling her what movie they were watching.

Not that it mattered much anyway. She couldn’t focus on the movie at all; her attention was entirely given over to not showing that she was at any given moment seconds away from emptying her agonizingly full bladder all over the couch. She could feel wetness slowly soaking into her underwear, and hoped it wouldn’t start to show.

And then, less than ten minutes into the movie, she felt it.

Another second-long leak burst from her, followed moments later by another even longer one. This was it, she knew. She’d been pushed too far, held for too long, and she had reached the very limits of her capacity. She was going to pee, and she was going to pee now.

She was, she realized, about to wet herself between Ochako and Tooru. Who were not acid-resistant.

She sprang forward with all her might, immediately drawing everyone’s attention to her and startling a yelp out of Tooru. She had not had time to think about how she would land; she crashed down onto the floor on her knees and hands, urine spraying out between her legs.

For a short time, her anxieties faded away in the face of utter, blissful relief. Her overtaxed bladder finally poured out its contents freely, the pain of her body fighting against itself fading to a light ache. A moan slipped from her mouth, embarrassment catching up with her a second later. The air was filled with twofold hissing, both the sound of liquid pouring to the ground and that of acid burning away the carpet and starting to eat into the concrete floor beneath. Her pants were quickly destroyed; her clothes were acid-resistant, but not acidproof like her hero suit.

Eventually her stream tapered off, and she forced out the last few drops. Only then did what had just happened fully hit her, and as she sat up into a kneeling position (kneeling half-naked in a puddle of her own urine in a burned-out hole in the carpet) tears started to pour down her cheeks, dripping off to join the puddle.

“Mina,” Momo said, and Mina looked over at her reluctantly, dreading the inevitable - the - she didn’t know what she was dreading, but she was definitely dreading it.

Momo’s face held surprise and concern, without a trace of anger or whatever else might have been there. Jirou had sat up either during the movie or during the accident; she looked shocked. “Are you alright?” Momo asked.

“I…” Mina sniffed. “I… what?”

Momo’s quirk flashed as she pulled a small container out of her arm, full of a purple powder Mina recognized as a neutralizer she had learned to make early on in their schooling. “Are you alright?” Momo repeated, and moved to pull something from her stomach. “You haven’t had difficulty with the bathroom in some time, as far as I know.” The new object turned out to be a simple sheet of fabric, the size of a large towel. “Did something happen?”

“It…” Mina knew, logically, that Momo and the rest of her friends would be concerned by this, but her quirk-fuelled anxiety didn’t, and the conflict between the parts of her brain made it hard to get a train of thought started. Eventually, though, she managed, “It started at the mall yesterday…”

Momo stood up and started to sprinkle the neutralizing powder around, handing her the cloth to wrap around herself when that was done, as Mina explained. By the time she finished explaining, both Ochako and Tooru had wrapped her in a hug despite her present state, and Momo had promised, unprompted, to look into quirk councillors who might be willing to work for a discount as a favor to the Yaoyorozu family, or even to pay out of pocket if need be.

The others promised never to speak of what had happened again, and Mina headed upstairs to shower off, feeling lighter both physically and mentally.

Edited by holdinginpee (see edit history)
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12 minutes ago, LifeIsStrange said:

Good story, but could you make the text white so I don't have to highlight it to read it?

argh. apologies. it's fixed now. don't know why this happened this time and not in any of my previous threads. there really ought to be a way to just strip out the text color without also making one also reapply all the italics, but if there is i haven't found it.

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