Chapter 1: What's Your Purpose?
It was the summer time and I lay in my blue one-piece swimsuit on my faded Finding Nemo towel. The wind was cold and the beach was fairly empty. It was only me and a family playing in the waves.
It wasn't what my mother would call a beach day, too cool and overcast. I secretly liked those days the most though. I never enjoyed big crowds and I usually preferred cooler weather to the blistering heat.
I dug my feet into the sand reveling in the relaxing feeling of it grinding between my toes.
After the stressful year I had at university, I was extremely grateful to just get away from it all. It was so lonely there and going on a vacation with my family was probably exactly what I needed.
I sometimes wondered if university even was for me. I hated school and I didn't have any dreams. Well, I had one dream but it was impossible. I needed a university degree to make money. Who could make a living as an artist? My heart ached to say it but I wasn't even a particularly good one either.
Being my usually avoidant self, I threw my worries to the side and decided to go for a final swim. I walked to the shoreline. The sun was setting and the mom and her two kids had got out of the water and started to pack up.
I smiled wistfully at the little boy lugging the gigantic umbrella over his shoulder and felt a pang of irrational jealousy. I really wished I could just be a kid again and let go of all my worries.
Turning back to the sea, I waded into the cold water, trying to avoid the rocks. It made me regret not bringing my water shoes.
I held in my hiss of shock when it hit my stomach. Deciding to just get it over with I dived, hoping my short hair wouldn't become too frizzy when it finally dried. It was cold but refreshing and almost felt like bathing in spring water.
Leisurely, I swam for a bit. I wasn't a really good swimmer but I did get pretty high in swimming class. Not enough to become a lifeguard like my friend Sara, but I was okay. I hadn't talked to her for a while. She was a childhood friend I felt compelled to stay with, although we no longer had anything in common.
I stared at the beach. The couple was in their red truck leaving now. It was getting late, I should probably get out.
I didn't rush though because my mom probably hadn't made any dinner yet. Maybe she'd make burgers tonight? I grinned, excited at any prospect of food that wasn't the horrible cafeteria mush they sold at my school.
Deciding to go in because of the possibility of food, I swam in the direction of my towel.
Suddenly, without warning I was under water.
I tried to swim up but couldn't. I was caught in a rip current!
Trying not to panic I swam towards the beach. It felt like I was battling against a strong gust of wind! No matter how hard I fought, I couldn't break through.
Contrary to my own knowledge of keeping calm when dragged under water by a strong current, I freaked. Trying to swim upwards for air only to be brought under. My lungs burned and my head felt light. I could see the light orange streaks of light. I was so close to the top.
My arms were thrown wildly grasping for anything to save me. Nothing would. No one was here. Purple black spots began to cloud my vision and my throat grew dangerously tight. My thrashing ended and I gasped for any air at all, only to feel the salty ocean water slide down my throat.
One of the few times I wasn't skipping film studies class, we watched this movie about a Tibetan spiritual leader called the Dalai Lama.
Supposedly, when the Dalai Lama dies he practices this thing called phowa. Where instead of moving on he has his consciousness reincarnated into a different body.
The monks then search for the new Dalai Lama. They use meditation and the direction the smoke blew when the original body of the Dalai Lama was cremated.
Once a candidate is found, they present objects to the child, some of which once belonged to the old Dalai Lama. If he recognized them, the child is then taken to a monastery to begin his studies.
How does this relate to the Dalai Lama? Well, it doesn't really. He made the decision to be reborn and only had a slight recollection of who he used to be.
Me, well I was reborn through no conscious commitment of my own and remembered everything. Maybe it was because I drowned. Water is after all, seen as a symbol of spiritual rebirth. Perhaps, that had something to do with it.
I actually don't remember being born. It took a few months before I came back to myself. Being a baby was kind of fun - not that I would admit it. I got to lay around all day, which was awesome. The food was horrible and the lack of autonomy sucked, but otherwise 10/10 would do again.
For the first years of my life, I was oblivious. It wasn't like I opened my eyes and knew. Quirks were a normal everyday thing. People didn't give introduction courses to babies being born on what world they were in and what to expect.
I think the first time I really questioned where I was, was when I was 2 and at the park with my mother. I saw a dude with two noses on either side of his body. It was a bit horrifying.
I didn't really mention it though, as 1) I thought it might be rude, 2) I still hadn't completely realized I was in another world entirely, and 3) I didn't have the language skills available yet to articulate myself.
It took another year before I finally connected the pieces on where I was. That realization complete solidified for me when I was placed in pre-school at 4 years old and met "Deku and Kacchan".
I've read a lot of fan-fiction in the time I was alive. I knew almost all the tropes - the in's and out's. I thought I knew what was happening. I was clearly the main character of some fanfic - I must be special! I was placed in such a coincidental place, right beside the other main characters. I lived near Izuku Midoriya - it had to be planned!
Apparently, whoever put me here didn't get that memo because not only could I not befriend Baka-bro (no surprise there - the jerk) but I also was ignored by Midor-able every time I chased after their group.
Retrospectively, I think he was just trying so hard for Bakugou's attention that he didn't realize he was ignoring me when I tagged along or tried to make conversation. Not to mention, I was a girl and young boys are not really known for being all that excited about playing with us.
So, I ended up spending most of my time alone. Not even kids wanted to be friends with me, it was a major blow to my pride. I was a bit bitter at god or whoever placed me in this world, how could I be a main character if no one even cared if I was there?
While I was struggling with that thought, many others in my pre-school started to receive their quirk. Kids grew wings, tails, longer limbs etc. Some like Bakugou, got cool powers.
At first, when I got my quirk I was excited. Who wouldn't be after coming from a world of utter boring-ness? Besides, maybe it would be super OP and I could be someone special. Maybe, I would have a purpose?
My mother had no idea what my father's quirk was - I was the product of a one night stand after all - so she thinks I inherited it from him. Her quirk was the ability to grow her hair longer whenever it was cut. It wasn't super useful but I would have liked it in my past life when I was going through a mullet phase.
Anyway, she actually ended up naming my quirk for me - 'The Artist'. Yeah, it was a pretty shitty name, but sometimes simple is best, right?
From the name, I'm sure you can guess what my quirk was. Essentially, I could draw things to life.
My quirk had a lot of rules in order to work. It was passive (I think you call it that?), that means it was always turned on. So, if I were to doodle in class it would soon be on display for everyone to see.
It also took 30 seconds for the drawing to come to life - so I had a time limit for my creations. This limit led to many disturbing half-drawn monstrosities. The drawings also would only last 10 minutes after I drew them.
There were some more aesthetic things as well, like that ink looked more realistic than pencil and all of my creations would come out in black and white, unless I used coloured pencils/markers etc. They were also flimsy if I drew them too 2D and fell apart extremely easily - so stick figures were generally a no.
When I was young, I hated my ability. It was passive, so I lost one of my favourite past times. I tried drawing for leisure after I discovered my quirk but nothing I drew stayed on paper after it came to life. It was heartbreaking realizing I could never truly create something again. In addition, I couldn't write on paper as words also would come to life if I wrote them - although they would just fall stiffly on the floor.
The time limit also rushed my drawings and I would never be able to put effort into a painting and create something beautiful again.
After I figured this all out I was depressed for quite a while and stopped drawing altogether for a few years. I knew my quirk was pretty awesome, in that, I could make some really cool things with it - even create life! However, every time I drew I just felt so frustrated by all its limitations.
My life became monotonous. Eat breakfast, go to school, come home, eat dinner. I felt like life was hopeless. I didn't think I could use my quirk for hero work (I couldn't draw fast enough) and I wasn't able to become friends with the main characters – so I wasn't special, and I lost something I loved. It was like I went backward. Except, at least I had art in my first life, even if I didn't have power. Now I truly didn't have anything.
However, that all changed for me when I was 13.
"Shit, I'm going to be late for school!" I exclaimed, looking at the clock on the oven from the kitchen table.
"Don't swear!" I could hear my mother faintly call from her place in the living room.
I made a muffled sound of agreement before grabbing my back-back, breakfast, and laptop for taking notes - and going out the front door.
I'd like to say that I wasn't stereotypical and running with toast in my mouth… but I was and I ended up slamming into a man as I turned around the corner like I was in some shoujo manga.
"Fuck! Watch where the hell you're going!" The man shrieked.
He had shark-like features and was wearing all black, he seemed like what I imagined a villain would look like. I didn't bump into a handsome dude, guess this isn't a shoujo manga anymore, huh?
I picked up my toast from the ground and dusted it off. Dammit, I was going to be so hungry today – no breakfast and I had forgotten my lunch as well. Ugh…
"Sorry about that." I apologized, although I honestly felt like it was both our faults.
The shark-man glared at me, before looking frantically over his shoulder and muttering, 'Shit, shit, shit!' under his breath.
The next few moments were a blur. This asshole pulled me to his chest and held me there tightly. I tried to struggle but felt something sharp against the side of my neck, so I stopped.
"Don't move, bitch." He growled.
Shit, was he going to rape me? I started to panic, this area was relatively empty as it was a residential neighborhood. I drew in a breath to scream before letting all hell loose like a banshee.
He didn't seem worried that I was screaming? Maybe, his motives were something else? What if he was crazy and didn't care if someone saw him kill me? I felt the cold fear creep up my legs, causing me to shake. The edges of where I gripped my toast, crumbled on to the ground.
A group of people started to mill outside their houses. We were standing there a full 5 minutes before he said anything. Each second, my terror grew.
"You all better fucking get your hero-fuckers out here or this girl is good as dead!" He screeched, his voice cracking slightly at the end. "Where the hell are those mother-fuckers! They were right behind me a few minutes ago!"
I could feel his sweat dripping on my arms. I shivered in disgust wanting to inch away but too afraid to do so.
A woman (a hero?) with green-blue hair appeared from around the corner, her eyes closed and a wide grin displayed on her face. She wore an orange headband with similar coloured gloves, a black tank-top, puffy shorts with blue and orange stripes, and a corset that had smiley face emoji's.
"No, need to sweat so much. I'm right here!"
She was a hero after all. I felt a wave of relief overcome me.
"What do you want to let the girl go, Edward Scissorfins?" She punctuated her question by placing her hands on her hips.
The shark-man growled and started to spout off his demands, they mostly consisted of possible escape vehicles, as well as, assurance that he wouldn't be followed.
"Let the girl go first, Flipper." The woman's smile not dropping a bit.
I started to get worried again. Was she trying to antagonize him?!
"Fuck you! Do you think I'm stupid! Give me my shit first, then I'll let her go!"
"Nah, I think you're gonna hand over the girl." Her grin somehow getting wider.
I could hear the shocked whispers of the people around me.
"Shut up!" exclaimed the shark-villain. The arm/fin that was near my throat, going up to threaten the crowd and the hero in front of me. Everything was silent.
Suddenly, he started to laugh. It wasn't an evil, maniacal laugh though. He sounded overjoyed. His grip on me released and he fell to the ground and started rolling around in laughter.
"What the –" I breathed out in confusion, watching the villain that threatened me, roll around like an idiot. The heroine gestured for me to move away from him, so I ran behind her. I could hear the sounds of sirens as the police began to show up.
Quickly, the woman tied up the shark man as he had his laughing fit.
"Definitely, the catch of the day! Buhahaha!" She guffawed, throwing her head back and posing with one leg on the villain in a victory position. I winced in pain at the horrible pun.
The policemen surrounding us, started to load the criminal off into the car - with the help of the hero. I watched it all in shock. The crowd had mostly left before the crazy heroine approached me.
"What did one hat say to the other?" The hero asked suddenly. It was silent for a second.
"Uh, w-what did it say?" I responded confused.
"You stay here. I'll go on a-head."
I laughed loudly in shock. That was horrible. The hero grinned before turning to leave, waving as she walked.
"What's your name?!" I appealed her, slightly desperate. The woman turned back towards me.
"Ms. Joke!" She cheerfully proclaimed, while pointing her thumb at herself.
"Wait! Umm…" I awkwardly played with the hem of my skirt.
"Yes?" She inquired patiently.
"Umm… why are you a hero?" I questioned her, slightly unsure of myself and why I was asking her this.
"Hehe, me? I'm driven to make people laugh and feel safe! Helping others, gives me a purpose!" She declared joyfully.
"Oh…" My voice trailed off. Was finding meaning that easy?
She smiled at me, once again about to leave.
"Do you think I can be a hero too?!" I called to her.
"If you're truly driven and don't give up, I believe anyone can become a hero!"
I stared at her, as a feeling of hope bloomed in my chest. In the past, I had given up before even trying. Maybe, if I actually tried my life could have a purpose too!
"Good luck! I hope we'll meet again when you're a pro hero!" she exclaimed while waving as she walked away.
The rest of the toast in my hand crumpled to the ground – as an extraordinary feeling of passion overcame me.
After going down to the police station and giving my statement I ended up missing most of the school day, so I decided to just go home instead.
My mother was angry when I came back early – she thought I was skipping again. Once I explained to her what happened, she was shocked and worried but she was mostly relieved that I was alright.
That night I began to practice what I liked to call my 'quick-draw' most of my drawings ended in horrible failure but I had a goal. Finishing a good drawing in the 30 second time limit! I needed to first work on getting used to drawing again though. God, they were truly awful.
(Author's note: please leave reviews on what I can improve on and what you liked! I appreciate you reading this XD)