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Long ago a very important man told me I too—a quirkless boy, could be a hero.
When we are young we are told we can be anything we want, my friends jump about “I’ll be a doctor!” “I’ll be an astronaut!” “I’ll be a pro hero!!” “I’ll be an actor!”
They had it all planned out, almost like they could close their eyes and envision their future, like a movie scene. So why is it that when I closed my eyes all went hazy. I couldn’t see myself like the other boys, I didn’t see myself with my short green hair in some suit acting in front of a camera. I saw fog and a small dim light.
The light glowed green, I could make out a face, long green hair like me. She looked like me. Only she was a she and I am a he, which is weird.
I know I’m different, something is wrong with me I’m sure of it—everyone else is too. Teachers can tell me everything yet they can’t tell me why I feel like a boy at the girls table and a girl at the boys. This isn’t normal—is it?
I bury this confusion deep down—I’m now in high school, time to “be a man”. Heroes are put together, I shouldn’t worry much about this.
When I look in the mirror I’m not quite sure who I see, someone looks back at me but I don’t recognize them. She’s beautiful, long curly green hair, natural makeup—ikumi is her name—I can tell, everything I want to be—-with. Everything I want to be with, right?
I bury this girl alive chaining her to the
bottom of the ocean, turn away from mirrors scared of what I’ll see. I close my heart and lock it three times, making sure it’ll never open. Scared that once I open it up I’ll learn something about myself that’ll ruin everything. As she’s under the water coughing up small pebbles gasping for breath, her life force draining—I live out my life as izuku.
Now on my death bed I laugh—how funny it is, yet curious. I close my eyes and unlock my heart—twisting once—twice—once more and it opens. The most soul captivating glow, like a crater opened in my chest. It’s beautiful, I can see her dancing happy with her friends. She’s free—she’s me.
Now as I inch closer to my death—my eyes grow heavy, my last breath threatening to leave. My final question to the world, to myself..am I dying as izuku or am I dying as ikumi, it doesn’t really matter now does it.
Here I am 20 years old dying..not physically but my soul. Ikumi swallowed the last bit of water she could handle, killing her has killed me. Now an empty shell, lacking both a soul and a heart.