My Hero Academia: Sketchbook of Madness

Chapter 5

Locke stood up, his knees still auditioning for the role of "world's wobbliest." Clearing his throat, he glanced at the jurors, each representing an emotion he felt multiplied by ten in this moment. "So, um, about those memories," he started, his voice carrying the uncertainty of someone who's about to explain why they brought a cat to school for show-and-tell.

"Firstly, the art show," Locke ventured, trying to sound more confident than he felt. "I admit, I might have come off a bit... overly proud. But, you see, I was really nervous. And sometimes, when people are nervous, they say things like, 'I'm the best artist since sliced bread.' Wait, that's not right. Since... well, you know what I mean."

A few jurors exchanged glances, while sadness began to sob, perhaps in confusion... or something.

"And about the birthday party," Locke continued, his cheeks reddening at the memory. "I just really hate losing. Plus, I heard somewhere that great leaders take charge!" He scratched his cheek shyly, "Though, I guess hogging the video game isn't exactly leading, more like... being a game hog."

A murmur of laughter rippled through the courtroom, even the judge seemed to suppress a smile.

Locke, encouraged by the slight shift in the room's atmosphere, pushed on. "What I'm trying to say is, everyone has moments they're not proud of. Like when you accidentally call your teacher 'Mom' or when you trip and fall, but try to turn it into a jog like nothing happened."

The jurors, now visibly more engaged, watched as Locke fumbled through his defence, his earnestness shining through the awkward analogies.

"I've learned a lot since those memories. Like, sharing is actually pretty cool. I get to see my brothers smile, and there are fewer moments of them going, 'Locke, you're such a controller hog.' Plus, I've been practising being less boastful." He counted his fingers thoughtfully, "I only mention my natural talent, like," he raised two fingers towards the jury, "twice a day now!"

He took a deep breath, "In conclusion," Locke said, his voice gaining a bit of strength, "I may not be the perfect person yet. I'm only ten. I've got a lot of growing up to do. And I think... I think my quirk could help me become better. Not just for me, but to help others too."

As he finished, the courtroom was filled with a mix of amusement and contemplation. Even the prosecutor appeared momentarily thrown off by Locke's unconventional, yet heartfelt, defence.

The judge, after a moment of consideration, nodded. "Thank you, Mr. Lamora. Your... unique perspective has been noted. After a short break, you may present your own evidence."

Locke, now slightly buoyed by the lightened atmosphere his defence had created didn't feel the minutes pass as he stewed in his chair. It wasn't until the gavel came down that he snapped out of it and stood up once more, rounding the desk and standing before the jury. Clearing his throat, he prepared to present his evidence with the gravity of a ten-year-old who had just realized he could argue back.

"Okay, so, we've established I've made some mistakes," Locke began, giving the prosecutor an exaggerated glare, causing the jury to chuckle. "But I've also had moments...good moments. Like, really good moments that I think should count for something." He motioned with a dramatic flair, and the courtroom's walls shimmered, ready to display his memories.

"Exhibit A," Locke announced, trying to emulate the prosecutor's authoritative tone but sounding more like he was introducing a magic trick. The scene that unfolded was one of Locke at a local park. He was younger, helping a clearly younger and frustrated child learn to tie his shoelaces. The patience and encouragement Locke showed were evident, his usual braggadocio absent.