- "'You're weak. We're going to have to fix that."
Those words became a constant soliloquy in my life. I'd chant them like a mantra every morning before training with the U.S Quirk Assessment Personnel. I was determined to make sure the words were engrained into my being, until they became a reality.
I shifted from one foot onto another, carefully watching the way Myra, my fitness mentor, tiptoed around the rock shield molded around my body. Immediately, I felt her Muscle Manipulation quirk target me, shaking my limbs until I collapsed along with my shield. Sighing, I heard her announce, "Okay, that's it. Get up and go get ready, he should be here within the hour." With that, I fled to the nearest locker room, showering in a rushed manner until I scrubbed off every inch of dirt from my body. As I shuffled back to the storage cubicle housing my clothes, I caught my reflection in the mirror.
Tossing on my clothing, I scrutinized my caramel brown skin tinted with burning pink patches because of the intensity of the frigid, cold water. My plain brown eyes portrayed no emotion, I had perfected the blank stare since I was twelve and I refused to resort to fake pleasantries. My classmates from middle school used to tease my appearance, reminding me that I was ugly whether my demeanor was happy or hostile. Since then, I kept the same stale look, ignoring the way my mother would scowl and yell at me to stop looking like my father. "All done?" I turned to find Myra standing by the door, a bored expression donning her face as she studied my body. It was littered with mild-looking scars, bruises, burns, and scrapes to signify the year's worth of horrid training I had to endure to mold my body to their preference.
"Yes," with my response, her blue eyes found a crevice to look at while she droned on about how I needed to dedicate my mind, body, and soul to becoming one of the greatest heroes the world has seen. Their sole purpose for facilitating the usage and strength of my quirk upon its late discovery was because they placed their faith in my success; they "needed" America to have representation in the surplus of amazing heroes that stemmed from Japan. When they realized the potential of my quirk, the U.S government officially attempted to label me as one of their very own apprentices to the line of hero work and with that, a career was chosen for me without taking my opinion into consideration. I despised the idea that I was on this professional path only because the Assessment Personnel saw my potential, but I couldn't lie and say that becoming a hero wasn't my dream. It was. I longed for the moment that I could save others from what I needed to be saved from. I continued living to see if my dream could become a reality, despite it seeming so out of reach, so when the opportunity presented itself, I found myself simply agreeing with whatever they offered. That explained why I would abandon my life and family to attend UA High School and enroll in the best hero course this world has seen. I found myself detesting the idea at first, leaving everything that was familiar behind to please the American government was not something I imagined doing for the rest of my life, but one thing solidified my response and resolve: my mother's look of relief when they told her I needed to move to Japan.
I realized then that I placed so much of a burden on her, that this would be her escape from me even if she denied it to the grave; it was the chance to prove to my mother that she didn't have to secretly long for a different life that excluded my existence. I couldn't blame her, her paranoia and grief of having me as a child took away the happiness she deserved. Raising multiple children on her own with a low income proved to be difficult, but she handled it graciously as she would try and say how everything would work out in the end despite our struggles. I couldn't believe her though because the look in her eyes told me otherwise. When U.S QAP also added monetary benefits for my family because of what I agreed to, I was certain that this would benefit them in the long run. If leaving the country could allow her to lower her guard and experience peace while removing financial anxiety, then I would accept the solution with no complaints.
All of these thoughts brought memories I tried to ignore as my childhood attempted to rear its ugly head. Dismissing them, I went about the rest of my evening preparing to meet my new teacher, Shota Aizawa. I was told that he would arrive to the U.S and accompany me to Japan and from there, I'd be living with him until I graduated. The idea had unsettled me at first, living with a stranger in his early thirties, and a man at that. Yet, the government and Hero Commission from Japan assured that I would be residing with a great hero who would bring no harm my way. With reluctance stemming from myself and my mother, I agreed on the condition that if I felt uncomfortable, I would return home immediately. Earlier today, my two sisters reassured that I would be happy and thrive in a new country with new people, both claiming that I'd forget all about them. I knew they were lying in an attempt to soothe me as I gave them their brief goodbyes before continuing on to the rest of my training before my new teacher, pro-hero Eraserhead, arrived.
With that in mind, a deep voice brought me out of my trance.
"Hello, I'm Shota Aizawa. I am your homeroom teacher and you'll be living with me for three years. I hope we can get along, but I'll keep my distance and just help you focus on becoming a hero."
Well that was to the point, I thought in amusement, eyeing his disheveled, exhausted appearance and bags to match with the lazy, black eyes. He scanned me briefly with a relaxed expression before turning to address my mother that arrived by my side.
"I will make sure your daughter is successful at UA and protect her when it's needed. She's in good hands."
As they continued their own conversation, I eyed him, searching for deception within his words but found nothing. He seemed a relatively honest man. I came to the conclusion that he held no ill intention, the only notable thing about his demeanor was that he was weary of my presence; I could tell by the way his eyes flitted towards my face, trying to gauge how I felt. I ignored it and took in his appearance, his towering height gave him an aura of intimidation, the tied-back bun with a simple all-black outfit covered with a scarf only amplified the impression. Meanwhile, my mother ended the conversation with a nod, her eyes filled with tears as she handed Mr. Aizawa some paperwork needed for my dismissal from America. All my luggage had been gathered and sent off to his residence earlier this week so I was the only thing that needed to be taken to make my departure complete.
With that in mind, I glanced at my mother, signaling that we needed to say our goodbyes. She shuffled towards me, a resigned look adorning her face as she stared at me, lacking the coherent words to describe the fact that I was most likely never going to live under her roof as a child again. I felt my heart give the same painful tugs that it had been doing since the U.S Quirk Personnel stated my upcoming leave, but I ignored it and wrapped my arms around her small frame.
"I love you. I'm going to miss you, Mom. You know I'll be okay, and if it doesn't work out I'll come home right away. You can trust that I'll become the best hero you've seen and I'll make you proud of me." I said, listening to the way my voice cracked on the last words. This was one of the lengthiest things I've said within the past year, only choosing to express my thoughts and words with glances or small gestures. My mother never failed to understand me though, and her reply was to smoothen my hair and flash me a reassuring smile, that implied that she believed me and would place her faith in my future that strayed from my life here.
"I love you so much. Promise to text or call at least once a day or I'm kicking your ass. I'm trusting you to be okay, Florence." She too was a woman of little words, only saying what needed to be spoken aloud and leaving the rest for me to deduce on my own.
Before she could see the tears threatening to escape, I gave her a brief kiss on the forehead and walked towards Mr. Aizawa.
"Wait!" Mom's voice rang out, her hand reaching out towards me. I looked back to see her tossing a bag in the air, knowing I'd catch it.
"There's a letter in the bag, read it when you get settled in okay?" She asked, reflecting a look of a wounded dog before masking it with her infamously beautiful smile.
My heart screamed in pain, but I alleviated it with a single nod towards my mother and a final 'I love you' shuffling towards the car that my new teacher sat in casually.
I sighed, settling into the seat and peering out towards the window as her figure faded from view. I immediately felt regret, wishing that I hugged my sisters longer, told my mother how she meant the world to me and I didn't want to leave her. How I wanted her to beg me to stay or tell the U.S government that I didn't need their control on my life to become a hero.
So many things left unsaid, I thought, finally allowing my eyes to meet Mr. Aizawa's. He looked expectant, but I couldn't figure out what he was waiting for.
"Call me Shota when we aren't in the classroom, there's no need for constant formalities, Reyna." Mr. Aizawa, well, Shota, said. I tilted my head once to show I was agreeing and watched as his face morphed into one of disapproval.
"Why aren't you bawling right now? Shouldn't you be freaking out that you're living practically on your own in a foreign country, leaving behind everything you love?" He elaborated with an almost dull tone, and I finally understood why he looked bothered. He was expecting me to display the turmoil I felt inside, but I refused to.
I made a promise to myself while I said my farewell to my mother.
I will no longer lose anything after I arrive in Japan, I will not be weak anymore. I promise I will be enough as a hero and as a person.
With that in mind, I simply replied, "I don't need to show how I feel. I'll be okay but thank you, I appreciate the concern," never wavering on the blank expression my face portrayed. His eyes blinked before understanding dawned on him. Once he realized that I wouldn't budge on my statement, a small smile came from him for a brief second.
"You're already going to be a problem child, huh?" He asked rhetorically, his question filled with annoyance. I shrugged as a response, before closing my eyes and settling into the car seat.
-
After an overwhelming amount of travel and small conversations exchanged between Shota and I, we arrived in Japan. Immediately boarding a train towards the area that Mr. Aizawa lived in, I felt myself settling into the late night that was engulfing the city of Musutafu, brilliant city lights reflecting off of random people's faces.
"Hey, kid, you want anything to eat or drink?"
"No, sir, I think I just want to sleep. School's tomorrow right?"
"Yes, I'm sorry you can't get much sleep but tomorrow will be a simple day so don't sweat it."
"Okay, sir, thank you for allowing me to live with you, I really do appreciate it." I felt the need to show that I was appreciative for having him step outside of his comfort zone and housing a random U.S transfer student that's not a truly likable person.
I carefully watched his reaction to my words, his eyebrows raised before he tugged down the scarf that covered the lower half of his face.
"Kid, I already feel like you're way too harsh on yourself. Take it easy, and I have no problem being your temporary guardian. Also, I told you to call me Shota." He finished that with a genuine smile.
That caught me off guard.
Kindness is a formidable friend and foe that I rarely witness outside my family. Having this man demonstrate his hospitality despite my empty stares and passive voice pitted an odd feeling in my chest. I could only blink and look down, feeling my face finally contort into one that was attempting to display how I was grateful.
I felt him lightly tap my head and notify me of our arrival into his neighborhood. After exiting a train and walking a short distance, we arrived into a home nestled in between a quiet area cascaded in trees. As we entered, Aizawa reached for a switch, illuminating his home in a soft glow of yellow hue. His house was designed to look like a mixture of a comforting cabin and an office space, as his living room was littered with paperwork and folders scattered around. I glanced towards his kitchen to see a small, sleek black table with three chairs as it led to the cooking area. In between the living room and kitchen area was a hallway branching out to a staircase and two rooms further down the hall. I surprised myself by slightly tapping Shota's shoulder.
As if reading my mind, he said, "Your room is upstairs and you have your own restroom too. The two doors on the left are all yours. My room is downstairs so you have a floor of privacy to yourself." Before I could respond, he continued.
"Here are some ground rules: No staying out late, you can only stay out for thirty minutes after it gets dark. If you invite anyone over, don't let them know I'm your guardian. Keep it clean, don't go into my office without permission, and you're free to do whatever you want as long as you're safe and not in danger or being an idiot. I respect your privacy and you respect mine even though I don't think we'll have an issue with that. We'll eat dinner together every now and then but I'm out on night patrols for the most part. Here's two numbers you can call if you need to go run errands or feel lonely. If you need anything just ask," he finished while handing me a paper as I saw two numbers scribbled lazily on them. One had 'Hizashi Yamada' written above it while the other had 'Nemuri Kayama' written below it.
"Thank you, and I understand your rules, don't worry I won't break any of them." I stated, tucking the paper into my pocket.
"Alright, go to bed, and be up on time to eat breakfast and to walk to UA. Goodnight, Reyna." He finished, giving me a slight tap on the shoulder before walking to his room. I said my goodnight as well, before shuffling up the staircase, already feeling the need for sleep setting in. As I opened the door to my new bedroom, I scanned it to briefly find it filled with boxes of my personal belongings. Too tired to put anything away, I only collapsed in bed, setting my alarm on my phone for the morning and notifying my mother of my arrival in Shota's home.
I couldn't leave the bed after that, only staring out the second-floor window as the moonlight provided a source of light for me. I attempted to participate in some sort of self-reflection of yesterday's and today's events but found nothing to mull over. I sighed, realizing that I would deal with the negative emotions brewing tomorrow after school rather than right now.
As I felt myself drifting into a temporary oblivion, I had the urge to drown the burning curiosity of what school in Japan would be like.
'I hope it's nothing like middle school,' were my final thoughts as I succumbed to my much-needed sleep.