bus rides | midoriya izuku

02 | scribbling notebooks

HE WRITES A LOT IN HIS NOTEBOOKS

Her head lays low on the window as her gaze studies the details of heavy lines and swirls of colours inked in the book she was holding, though part of her ears was deeply immersing in the faint footsteps of each person boarding the lonely bus—a bus meant for escapees like her.

Sumire Aiko learned not too long ago that he was an escapee too since he's all engrossed in that notebook of his.

The first time she saw a green head like him being so active was when she noticed his small shoulders quirked up in his seat like a kitty cat so scared its goosebumps rippled across its furs, except he was quivering in excitement. She could also see his raised knees supporting his notebook from her perspective. Not only that, the quiet bus was used to its absolute silence that feels absent, but not the subtle mumblings coming from the right side of the bus. And while no one really noticed, she had. Someone with sharp ears despite having earplugs blocking her entire sense of hearing can even be sensitive to such background noises, including him.

Well, at least there's no group of elementary kids causing a ruckus at the back of the bus. She was the only one who always occupy the very back of the corner seat. And each time, there was a story to see. Two kinds of stories—the world in front of her and the comic in her hands.

So having the boy's mumblings disrupting her every few seconds was a different kind of story. A third story. And was she a side character of this story? Or the narrator? Or perhaps, a reader of this story?

It'll help a lot if she was deaf instead.

Slightly annoyed wisteria eyes flickered over to the green head. He was being louder than usual. And yes, this happens every week. Perhaps once or twice in which the idle girl was grateful for. But the thing is, what was he writing about that makes him so loud and bright in the bus of sunset filters?

Now that she thinks about it, she'd never really brought herself up to discover the little things about the green boy. She'd seen the way he walks with hands tugging on the straps of his sunflower bag like a lifeline. She'd seen the way his hair gently swayed like a cold breeze dancing past the long grass. But she'd never heard his voice nor seen his face. Was Aiko just annoyed or just curious?

A small sigh left her lips as her gaze linger on every detail of the bus, sinking further in her cushioned seat. A girl like Aiko must be tragic. Being too observant leads to overthinking. A wild mind. A colourful mind. And green was just the first colour of her palette.

Seeing the familiar streets from the window, Aiko closed her comic—in which she didn't get past two pages thanks to him—and chucked it into her bag before getting up from her seat. Noticing that the boy wasn't aware of their arrival, Aiko gave herself a thought for a moment as the bus completely comes to a screeching halt. Then, almost walking past his seat, she took a glimpse of one of the pages in the notebook on his lap.

Heroes.

A slight twitch caused the corner of her lip to curl up the moment she stepped off the bus, recalling the series she'd just read minutes ago—Moon Knight.

Rushed, frantic footsteps followed through, causing Aiko to glance in his direction again, though his face was directed at the bus driver. Her eyes flickered down to the notebook in his hand.

Hero Analysis for the Future, No. 13

Aiko looked away and smiled.