S̴̡̝̬͔͕͙̼̙̝͓̪̯̦͊̒̎̀̈́͑́͐͘̚͘̚̕h̵͎̘̖͙̘̦̠̝̄̐͐͆͐̀̚ö̵̢̧̖̳̥͍̺̺͉̓̎̈́͂͊̀͠t̸̢̛̯̬͔̜̗̖͇̮̣̙̻̏́̿̂̎́̍̀̓͊̈̓͜͝͝a̸̧̛̰̓͗̒̓̍͠ ̶͎̆̇̓̀̎̎̐̈́́͘o̷̡̼̼̹͕̘͈͈͕̫̅̑̋̏̈́͂͌̏̊̊̃̏̂̓͑͜͜ͅr̶̡̢̢̢͓̘̖̪̭͇͎̪̘̺͙̔̓̂̇̾̀̐͌͊̄̃͗͒i̸̳̻̪̼̼̼͇̮̬͕̳̩̜͂̔̔́͐̚͜͠g̶̢̢̛̤̖̜̬̝͈̰̰̩͖̻͊͌̀̽̀̊̓͜ī̵̳̣͉͍̽̀͑̾͌͛̇̊̾̐͗͑͠n̵̥̤̘̳̼͓̿̊̈́͊͂̒̌ͅͅ
Shota pov
My earliest memories...
I remember... Hospitals. Doctors. Examinations.
I was... a broken late bloomer. The doctors were trying to fix me.
My grandparents tried to explain me what was wrong with me.
They tried to explain what made me different
That my quirk won't activate. I didn't understand.
I heard the doctors admit they couldn't make my quirk activate.
They said I would never activate it,
Or live a normal life.
As I began to turn five, I came to understand what
Was wrong with me. I saw other children become
Happy... sad... angry. But I never felt these things...
I only felt... empty. Hollow. Incomplete.
My grandpa desperately wanted to help me. But, my grandma ...she was nothing like my grandfather.
She wasn't worried about me at all.
She said that she was exactly like me when she was a child.
She told me that, one day, I would meet someone special.
Someone who makes me feel... complete.
My grandfather did not want to listen to my mother's words.
He wanted a normal child who can activate their quirk.
He tried everything to make my quirk appeared.
By.... beating me... hurting me... and scratching me... when my grandma is not at home.
At daycare, the other children mistreated me.
They bullied me because I was quirkless to them.
It was... inconvenient.
I realized that if I wanted to be treated properly,
I would have to act like the other children.
I started pretending to be normal...and the bullying stopped.
I learned that everything was easier if I forced myself to act like a normal person.
Eventually, I was pretending to be normal almost every hour of every day.
I pretended to be friends with people... I pretended to have hobbies...
I pretended to care when tragedy struck...
But it was all fake. I felt nothing. The only thing I felt was emptiness.
As I became 6, I became resentful of my condition.
I wanted to experience life like other people.
I wanted to feel joy...I wanted to feel sorrow... I wanted my quirk to activate...
I tried doing anything that might cause me to activate it.
Guilt, shame, regret, hurting
But, nothing worked. No matter what I did, no matter how extreme.
My grandma's advice was always the same.
One day, you will meet someone special.
Then...one day...
While I was at the park three boys began to bully me
Until this green freckled boy save me
I called him my hero
He told me what my favorite hero is
I told him mine is eraserhead
He told me I could be a hero
I began to follow him around.
Even began to pick his food bites.
And treasure them.
Even took pictures of him.
I found him.
I must not lose him.
I must protect him.
I must make him mine.
I must not let anyone take him.
I need him.
He is everything.
He is worth any sacrifice.
Nothing else matters.
No one else matters.
He
Will
Be
Mine.
He doesn't have a choice.
