Hello, My Name is:

Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own My Hero Academia

-time skip to about two years later -

Our green eyed boy is now five years old. But he doesn't know it. All he knows is that it's been a long time, long enough for it to begin getting cold again, and for the orange and brown leaves to wash up against the shore and lay in the crevices of trash.

Over the past year or so, the abandoned child has been exploring his surrounding environment and making his 'home' a more suitable place to live.

He's waiting for when his mom comes to get him, so that he can show her how good he's been.

He wanted to show her the garden he had started and couldn't wait to see her happiness when she saw the small sprouting shoots and the water system he had made for his plants when he didn't even have enough water for himself to drink during the warm summer.

He wanted her to see the large shipping container he had remodeled into a somewhat sandy home. And the stored food he had gathered in an old armoire he had dragged to his house.

But he didn't want to show her the graveyard. Yes, it was a graveyard now. Unfortunately the wolf the child had encountered had been a part of a pack, and he had been forced to defend himself through fear of death. By the time the pack had finally left, two more wolves had been killed and added to the grave, and he didn't want his mom to know he was a killer. What if she left him if he told her? She probably would hate him for it.

Still, the child thought that if he was good enough, his mom would come find him. Even at four years old he realized that people placed a lot of care and attention to things of monetary value or beauty.

So he explored the surrounding trash and expanded his territory. He cleaned up the area he was living in to the best of his ability, and spent his days looking for hidden treasures.

Medical equipment was the first thing he looked for, along with plant seeds and gardening tools. He thought that if he could prove that he could heal himself and help plants live, his mother might look past the fact that he has killed and hurt living animals.

He had acquired a surprisingly large amount of both before he decided that it wasn't enough. Soon his collection grew to artwork, money, clothing, jewelry and other things he deemed valuable, including a large assortment of hero figurines and merch, although that was mainly to decorate his 'home'.

Yesterday he had decided to add something else to his list: books.

Being around five years old he didn't have much of an ability to read and he had yet to learn how to write legibly. However, the long amounts of time he spent out in the trash looking for food had taught him to understand the labels on food cans to a certain extent. A useful tool to avoid eating another mason jar full of soap, which he had read as soup originally. (A/N: I'm pretty sure that soap and soup are spelled differently in Japanese, or are not a vowel apart in difference, but just go with it)

The boy remembered how his mother used to read him bedtime stories, and quickly latched on to the idea that maybe if he brought back that aspect of his life, his mother would be reminded of him.

He had found and collected many 'books'. Ranging from pre-quirk books that had been thrown out to the magazines and fliers you find in waiting rooms. Of course, the desperate kid had no idea which pieces of literature were okay to read and which were not. He simply found and collected his new items deemed important and read... With varying success.

He could read the titles of some of the magazines and knew what most of the fliers said, but there was no doubt that he was having trouble reading the bigger books. Most afternoons the kid could be found squinting at weathered and torn pages, slowly trying to understand the long and fancy words or the occasional squiggle were water had caused the ink to run.

On more than one occasion the green eyed boy found himself close to tears as he came to the conclusion the his inability to read was the reason he had been abandoned. But he persevered. And one day he found something that changed his life. A dictionary.

Now for most kids a dictionary is probably the most boring thing in the world. And the same very much applied to the boy. But his happiness quickly took over instead as he realized he finally had the tool with which to unlock the mysterious and confusing thing that is literature.

Unfortunately there was a problem. The dictionary was an English to Japanese one. Meaning the word and definition was provided in English but only the word itself was provided in Japanese.

Still, it seemed that nothing would stop the child's determination as he quickly began to look through his various piles of writing for more dictionaries and eventually found a French to English and finally a Japanese to English dictionary. 

The Japanese to English dictionary was a misprint. It only gave the word in English and the definition in Japanese, not the word itself in Japanese.

Which was how the boy began to learn both Japanese and English. He would find a word he needed translated in the first book and then using the English translated word, he would match the English word with the Japanese definition in the second book.

It was a cold winter morning when the boy happily discovered that he could read English. Not very well of course, and he definitely couldn't write any, despite the practice and intense focus he put into writing Japanese. 

But that small success, was good enough for him. Throughout that day the green eyed by eagerly awaited the arrival of his mother. Hoping that he would be able to be with her to have hot chocolate and candy canes. The cold weather had him wishing that he was back in the safety of his home.

He spent as long as he could outside shivering on the "doorstep" of his home. His mother never came. Eventually the boy fell asleep inside his shipping container/house holding tightly to the book whose English title he had been able to read.