To Be A Hero: Family

by jessylane318

The world of the quirkless isn't fair. They're discriminated against, denied rights, & often poverty-stricken. Hoki Rin was born in this world, but unlike her brothers, she has a quirk, and it's terrifying. An exploration of how a teenager, when given love, attention, and respect, can rise above the neglect and abuse of their past. Dark beginnings, Happy ending. Dad!Aizawa. Dad!Mic

11. Chapter 11

-11-

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Eventually, the antagonism at school dies away.

But I don't stop with it. Even as Haru graduates and leaves the Last One and two new kids arrive. I work, and I work, and I work. I work until I can call my shadows to my arms and control them like two long, tentacle-appendages.

I work until I can smile all day at my teachers.

I work until I can smile without hesitation with my peers.

I work until I can smile as I throw away hand-scratched notes.

And then, at Yui-san's suggestion, I practice using my tentacle-appendages actually like appendages. Eating with them, writing with them, putting on clothes, and washing with them. I spend hours on homework, painstakingly drawing out letters and numbers with a pencil wrapped in a black, shadowy tentacle.

"Freak," Niko says as she walks through the kitchen with her things.

Akira says nothing, but she flinches when I glance their way.

"What, got nothing to say?" Niko asks her trunk-like nose curling viciously, like a cobra ready to jump out and strike.

"No," I answer honestly. I offer a smile.

She sneers and walks away. I continue working, sweat dripping down my brow. Akira hesitates to follow, and I glance up again.

"Shadows don't have specific shapes," she says softly, staring at the shadows incasing my arm. I stop, eyebrows furrowing, and she lowers her eyes and pulls at her fingers. "Kinda… Kinda like water. If… If I imagine a bubble, it is one, and if I imagine a disc, it does that too. But if I don't imagine anything, it does whatever it wants."

I open my mouth, not sure what to say, and she stares at the red scratches now permanently scared on my neck. Then she flinches, making a hasty retreat.

I close my mouth and put down the pencil.

If I imagine a bubble, it is one, and if I imagine a disc, it does that too.

I've never imagined my shadows as anything other than tentacles. I close my eyes and imagine them a disc, still careful to keep them tightly wound next to my body. I open my eyes, and I blink at the odd, disc-shaped tentacle protruding oddly from my hand.

And then I smile.