There was this book when I was a small kid, a cross between Aesop's tale and some story about a greedy cat and a naive mouse. Mrs. Todoroki would read it to us, and I was obsessed with it. I honestly liked it because of the voices she would do for the characters and the fact Touya would let me sit next to him to listen to it. Natsuo would get bored partway through and run off to play with a ball, and Fuyumi would help her turn the pages. I don't remember Shoto and Reina being there much; Endeavor would keep them apart from us to train them.
The story started with a cruel cat who would taunt the small mouse, capturing it and the mouse bargaining for it's life. "What could a little mouse like you, do for a big cat like me? You're nothing compared to me," the cat would sneer at the little mouse while holding it in it's massive claws.
The mouse, being an ever quick thinker, would squeak back and tearfully cry, "oh, there's many things a mouse like I could do for you, Mr. Cat! I could chew through ropes, or I could find the best food, I can even pull the splinters from between your toes! Oh please let me go, and I promise you won't regret a thing, Mr. Cat!"
The cat would release the mouse, and they became friends. The mouse held true to his end, finding the best food for them, pulling the splinters out from his paws, and once when the cat was caught, chewed through the ropes for the feline. However, the friendship wouldn't last. The food ran out, and the cat was hungry. Once again, the mouse pleaded its case, tears and all.
"Please Mr. Cat! We've been such good friends over the years, please, I'll find even better food! I'll take the fleas from your coat, and scratch those places you can't reach, oh please Mr. Cat, I can still do so much for you!"
"Fine," the hungry tired cat would grumble at the little mouse. "But this is your last chance. If I get any hungrier you will be my next meal."
So the mouse searched and searched, looking for the better food it promised the cat. It tried so hard to help, and eventually came back crying, with a single berry in it's paws. The cat, unimpressed and starving, picked the mouse up by the tail.
"Please, Mr. Cat!" the mouse sobbed, holding the berry to him. "This is all I could find! I'm sorry, please don't eat me!"
"I warned you, Little Mouse," the cat sneered, lifting the mouse over his fangs. "You couldn't hold up your end of the deal, so I will gladly hold mine up. After All, what can a little mouse do against me, the big cat?"
And the cat would eat the mouse, berry and all. The ending always made me cry, no matter how many times it was read to me. Because of it, Touya would call me 'Little Mouse', after the crybaby mouse in the story. He was the only one to call me that name, and more times than not, I responded to that name faster than my birth name. We would reenact the story, but with a different ending, since he wanted to be a hero.
"I wouldn't eat the mouse," he'd say, shaking his head as I held a ball. "I'd protect the little mouse, since it's useful to me. If I was the cat, I would've asked the mouse what I could have done for it! I'd protect it from all the bad things trying to hurt it!"
So it became our thing. It was our codeword of sorts, to make sure "we were really who we were", a joke between us. He'd ask what the mouse could do for the cat, and I'd quote the book, before asking in return what the cat could do for the mouse. "I'd protect you from all the bad things," he'd say. Honestly, even thinking about it now, it makes my chest hurt. Back then, it would make me smile and laugh. Now, it makes me cry, and miss him more.
Forty Four Hours until the Sports Festival…
"Are you imagining the door?" Aizawa asks me, rubbing his head with the bandaged hand. "You should have gotten it by now."
Should have gotten it. Like I should have gotten a death sentence. Like I should have gotten locked away for the rest of my life.
"I promise I'm trying," I say softly, walking over to my bag and digging out the eyedrops. My chest is still tight and I feel so damn tired. I just want to go home… "It's just a little difficult, still," I add as I get two drops into each eye and blinking to get them to moisten before putting the dropper back. "I'll get it, I promise."
"I believe you," he assures. "It would have been quicker if they'd taught you some damn control rather than just shooting you up with drugs every time your quirk turned on."
"Yeah." The word left my lips so lifelessly, as if it was a prepared response. Maybe it was; maybe I actually wanted to agree with him aloud. But Reina would hear about it, and by extension, the commission. "Can we keep going?"
"Whenever you're ready."
Forty Two Hours until the Sports Festival…
Close the door. Close the door. Close the damn door!
I'm trying to force that stupid "door" in my head shut, but it just keeps getting harder and harder. I want it shut, I don't want to hurt anyone else because of this curse. I just want to be able to fucking control it, is that too much to ask?! I want to be normal!
"You're trying too hard to force it."
"Isn't that the whole point?" I demand, shooting a glare at Aizawa before refocusing straight ahead. "I have to get it off, or else people get hurt-"
"People get hurt everyday," he scolds. "Last I checked on the reports, those kids are the ones that stabbed themselves, not you. You can't help the teachers having heart attacks, and that Galliant had a stroke. Think about the people that didn't die that day. The people you hit with your quirk that are still alive. Maybe your quirk was the catalyst, but they still had consciousness to make a choice. They made theirs, and you're punishing yourself for it."
"Because no one else will!" I want to scream again, why why why! Why does no one see the fucking anger I have at myself, or the guilt I'm carrying? Why can't people see me for the murderer I am, with the curse I carry because I was fucking born with it? "I'd be doing the world a favor if I just died."
Aizawa sighs and walks over to me. I flinch and close my eyes, waiting for the yelling or the hit. But he just taps the top of my head and I open my eyes, surprised. Why didn't he hit me?
"Thinking like that means you have no regard for your own wellbeing in a situation you can't win in," he tells me, pulling his hand back. "And that gets you killed a lot faster than anything the government would sanction."
"So what?" I shoot back, my voice breaking. "Isn't that the hero's job, to lay their lives on the line to protect everyone?"
"That so called everyone includes you too, Salinsa," he retorts, his voice calm as I get myself more worked up. "If you're dead, you're not protecting anyone. You want to balance that so-called red in your ledger, stay alive until you can't anymore. And if you stay alive, and keep pursuing the hero's path, you're going to have to learn to use your quirk at your own will, and turn it off."
"And what if I keep gathering red in my ledger. What then?" I demand.
"I'm chalking this behaviour up to the fact you look like you haven't slept in two days, but just pray it's the villains' blood, and not innocent civilians."
When did society become so fucked? Even if they've done evil things, they're still human. Not everyone is inherently bad, no one deserves to die. Everyone deserves a second chance.
But with that thinking, where does that leave me? A hypocrite for wanting to take the easy way out? Mr. Aizawa is right; I have to balance the books, I need to fix the red, I need to prove-
That I can be a hero too.
"Fine," I mumble, turning away from him and reimagining the door in my head. In said head, it's purple with black trim, the knob a silverish color. It's just as simple as my bedroom door at home, the familiarity helpful to concentrate on. I reach for it, turning the knob and pulling it open. The pain of using my quirk was nonexistent at this point, even with the strain it was placing on my eyes. I can ignore it now, making it easier as I stand there in the doorway.
"Now close the door," I whisper to myself, taking a deep breath as I step back out and start to push it closed. It stops about halfway, not budging. I curled my hands into fists, my nails cutting into my palms as I kept trying to force the damned thing closed.
"You're trying to force it closed," Aizawa remarks. "It should come as naturally as turning it on, just breathe. Taking things slow is often the better route than forcing everything at once. Your quirk is a part of you, not some external force you can subdue into doing your bidding."
"You just jumped my a-" I stop myself, gritting my teeth as I take a breath. "Fine, what do you suggest I do then? Stand here chanting close? Want me to do it in latin?"
"I suggest you lose the tone first. I am doing my job by helping you," he starts. I nod and sigh, feeling some of the fight leave my body. "How easy is it for you to use your quirk, or turn it on?"
"Like breathing," I admit. "I do it without thinking, like breathing or my heart beating."
"There's still a subconscious effort to turn it on, keeping it on, and keeping it off," he says. "You've trained those limiters, by knowing how to turn it on, and what the triggers for your body to kick into overdrive, so you avoid those limiters. What caused it at Shiketsu?"
"We aren't supposed-"
"You need to talk about it eventually. And we're not discussing what happened. We are discussing what triggered your quirk to come on by itself."
I bite my lip, closing my eyes as I debate it in my head. He's a teacher and already knows what happened. There aren't any students around to hear what happened, and what I did. And he's right; I do need to talk about it at some point, in detail. He's been right this entire time, and I've been a child about it, because I don't want to hear it. I don't want to believe I can be a hero like Reina and Keigo, but I want to be so bad. Even a broken clock works half the time.
"One of the victims was hitting me," I admit softly, gripping my left wrist with my right hand as I stare at the floor. "I don't mean in a playful way, he left bruises on me and was trying to hurt me. I asked him to stop, and he wouldn't, so I demanded it and screamed, and my quirk snapped on."
"So it was in defense of yourself," he remarks. "So perhaps we should get someone in here so you're forced to turn it off before the limit is up. You can only use it for five to ten minutes at a time, depending on if you're actively using it on someone, so that's helpful that it shuts off by itself, but you want to conserve that time by turning it off your-"
"I'm not using my quirk on anyone!" I nearly yell at him, my heart choking me. "What if something happens and they get hurt-"
"Salinsa, it's off."
"Huh?"
"Your quirk. It turned off."
"You're kidding."
"So it turns off when you want to help someone. How ironic," he chuckles. "Try it again, and this time keep the sole motive of saving someone in your head. That should help you ease the door closed."
The irony isn't lost on me, trust me.
But what's a little mouse to do?
