Chapter 4
Piercing Through
I shivered as I jogged along the sidewalk. Winter was in full swing, and the light breeze would not let me forget it. I was thankful that after my run I could spend all day inside. It was winter break after all.
I steadied my breathing, willing my body to provide more heat. Not that it did, but it was mind over matter for me. My quirk was still out of my reach, but it was close. I tried to recreate what happened in that hospital room, to remember the feeling, yet it always eluded me. I could feel it pull from inside my body, but it was always stuck at the surface like a frozen lake. Some days it felt different. It threw me off, giving me more questions than answers. I was missing something about it, something that I didn't know yet. Something I should know, but can't remember.
I stopped briefly, catching my breath. My thoughts distracted me more often now, which I was told was normal for kids my age. Whether that was true or not wasn't something I cared about, I was already far from the 'normal' of society.
My body shook itself again, reminding me of the freezing air biting at my ears. I quickly moved to the closest building, kicking the small amounts of snow from my shoes before entering. As the warmth washed over me I couldn't help but sigh in relief, pulling my gloves off and stuffing them into my pockets.
The building turned out to be a music store. There were tons of CD's, instruments, even vinyls lining the back wall. I moved to slowly flip through the records, only recognizing a few bands and artists. I wasn't sure what I was looking for. I didn't even have a record player, yet I kept looking. The covers were intriguing enough to keep me occupied long enough to warm up. I didn't even notice I had picked one up. It had a cherry blossom tree on it, or rather one framed in a polaroid. It didn't have a name or any writing on it at all.
Suddenly there was a tap on my shoulder, forcing me to turn around. "Excuse me, you're in the way- wait, you already got it?!" A girl stood in front of me, eyeing the record in my hand. She looked to the tables behind me, failing to find a second copy of it. "Uugh, I'm too late, I knew I should've left earlier." She shoved her hands into her leather jacket. She turned back towards me as I finally got a good look at her. She had purple hair and deep black eyes.
My hands started trembling as I became acutely aware of how warm my face was suddenly. "O-oh this isn't- I'm not-" I stuttered, unable to push the words I wanted to say out. I opted for holding the record out to her, hoping she'd catch on to what I meant. Her eyes pierced through me as we stood there for a few seconds, yet to me it felt like hours.
"Oh, you sure? These are limited, you know?" Her hands wrapped around the edges, her fingers gently brushing over mine as she pulled it away. I nodded in response, refusing to trust my words at the moment. This feeling was weird, but that was normal wasn't it?
"This doesn't feel fair, you got here first… tell you what, I'll listen to it, then you can borrow it after and we can talk about it, ok? Let me see your phone." She held her hand out as I complied, setting my unlocked phone in her hand. She tapped away at it before handing it back, smiling to me as she moved to the counter. I looked at my phone, seeing her contact info typed in and saved.
Kyoka Jiro.
I needed to ask for a record player when I got home.
I stared at the blank chat on my phone. Everytime I tried to send a message, I erased it and tried to think of a better way to start the chat off. I backed out of the chat for the tenth time tonight, ignoring the older messages I still haven't read from others.
I hadn't talked to Kirishima or Ashido since I had my break down. I didn't even know what I would say to them. What was even left to say. 'Hey I know everyone thinks I'm a liar and you're embarrassed to say you were friends with me.'
The thought left a sour taste in my mouth. A better person would forgive them and move on. Unfortunately, I wasn't that person yet. So I ignored their messages, and they eventually stopped sending them so often.
I pushed my chair back, standing up to stretch as my feet touched the cold hard wood floor. I had convinced my mom to get me a record player. Not that it was hard to do so, I could probably ask for the moon and she'd find a way to put a bow on it. She explained the reasons why we were living comfortably without her having to work all the time.
All Might felt like he owed us. He couldn't live with the guilt of whatever happened years ago and this was his way of repaying us. It wasn't exactly a pity, but it didn't feel good either. I guess it was his fault.
I groaned in frustration. I hated thinking like this. I hated being stuck in my own head. Sometimes I wish I was anybody else.
I grabbed my phone, going back to the chat log I'd been staring at, sending the first thing that came to mind.
You: It's the boy from the record shop.
You: How's the vinyl? What band was it?
I put the phone down, walking away to take care of the chores I'd been ignoring for the whole day. I'd deal with my phone later, after I had time to think all about how dumb I sounded.
The coldest part of the winter came and went, and many things happened too fast for my liking.
Aunt Shizu had a kid now. They had sent all kinds of pictures to my mom to show me. The whole situation warmed my heart and scared me at the same time. They were heroes, so they faced danger everyday. I decided upon seeing their son that I would not let him go through what I went through, even if it cost me everything.
Jiro also messaged me back frequently. She might've been a little mad that I didn't even know the band she claimed was 'peak new age rock' but she forgave me soon after. I couldn't fault her, the band was amazing, and she was ecstatic that she had someone to talk to about it. Even if she did most of the talking.
Jiro: You need to hear it on the vinyl to really experience it, digital isn't the same.
You: Really? I think it sounds the same..
Jiro: That's because you aren't focusing on it.
You: I focus just fine, I think you're just crazy.
JIro: How about I put that on your tombstone!
I shook my head, a small smile creeping onto my face. She was passionate about music, which made it easy for me to understand her feelings. Even if she tried to explain the difference in tunes that only one percent of people might perceive. She didn't get frustrated at my lack of knowledge, she seemed happy about it in fact. Something about a 'blank canvas to create the perfect rock palette' or whatever that meant. Sometimes she scares me.
I also went back to the quirk analyst. They said I was showing more signs of passive quirk use, but it was even higher. They were concerned that it would have adverse effects on my mental health before too long. My mind wandered back to what happened months ago. Looking back on it, I acted like a whole different person. The memories were already hazy and clear at the same time. I shook my head, moving to gather my things for school tomorrow.
"Morita, before you leave, come to my desk please."
I ignored the 'oohs' coming from the rest of the class. I knew I wasn't in trouble, but they craved drama all the same. I waited for all of them to leave before walking to the teachers desk.
"I've seen vast improvements from you. It's been 3 months since you last slept in your classes." I rolled my eyes. This wasn't important enough to keep my after class-
"But you're still not as committed to paying attention. Have you thought about what you want to do with your future?" He tilted his head down, looking at me from the edge of his glasses.
I shook my head. I didn't really think about anything besides the past. What did I want from my life in the future? "I didn't think so. Some of your classmates are already making plans for their high school applications. I know it's only your first year, but think about it. There's a trip at the end of your second year that all the teachers get to pick a few students to go on. Normally, it's reserved for those interested in the hero field, but if you don't have an answer for me by then, I'll nominate you."
"If I don't know what I want to do, how will sending me on a trip help?"
"You're selfless. I know this because when I'm looking through some of your classmates' work, they have the same answers as you. Normally kids don't share their work with anybody but their friends, which shows that you just wanted to help them. I'm old, Morita, not dumb. You're free to leave."
I went back to my desk to grab my bag before leaving the room. Wasn't it normal to help people with their work if they were struggling? He said friends did, but I didn't really have any here. Maybe it was weird for me to do that, but maybe being weird wasn't that bad after all.
I passed by the front gates, too distracted by my own thoughts to notice someone in front of me before bumping into them.
"Oh, sorry, I wasn't paying atten-" I froze, seeing an all too familiar head of pink hair. I didn't wait for her to even respond as I walked off. I heard her call out to me, but I forced myself to keep moving. My mood was soured enough by thinking about my future, I didn't need to dampen it further. Thankfully she didn't follow me at all.
I nervously pulled at my shirt collar, feeling more unsure about this every second.
Jiro, after much convincing and a little threatening, convinced me to hang out with her in person. She unfortunately forgot to mention that the hangout spot was actually her house. And the house was huge!
I briefly considered leaving and texting her that I got sick before the door opened, making me jump in place. A blonde man roughly a few inches taller than myself answered the door, looking at me with disgust. "So, you're the boy my Kyoka invited over. You look like a delinquent with that dyed hair."
"Um… sir, my hair isn't dyed."
"Well, coulda fooled me. I'll keep my eye on you punk-"
"Dad! Stop pestering him!"
I heard scuffling behind the man as he was pulled back into the house, his spot now occupied by Jiro. "Sorry about him, he's just an idiot. Come in, I got the vinyl set up."
"I told you it sounds the same, when are you gonna let it go?" Before I could react, one of her jacks jammed itself into my arm, sending a discomforting wave through my body. "Ok ok, I'm sorry!"
I followed her into a room with various instruments and speakers. She flipped a switch on the player sitting on the table, the record player spinning to life as she took a seat nearby. I eyed the instruments silently, trying to put names to each one before sitting down myself. I closed my eyes, listening for the differences she went on and on about.
I didn't even notice that I drifted off until the music was replaced with the sound of guitar strings being plucked softly. I opened my eyes to see her with the instrument in her hand. She was in her own world with her eyes closed. I cleared my throat, pulling her back to reality. "You play well."
Her face started to turn red, averting her gaze from me. "W-well I've been playing since I was like five, of course I play well."
I shook my head. "I could play for a million years and never be as good as that." She stood up, shoving the instrument into my arms as she pulled a stool over to me.
"I bet you'll play better than me right after I teach you. Put your hands like this." Jiro reached over, moving my hands into position to play. "So you strum while holding the string like this in different positions."
"Jiro, I don't know any notes, let alone a song."
"It's not about notes, it's about feeling. You think all songs are put on sheet music before they play it? Music is about what you feel in your heart, your hopes and sorrows."
I took her words to heart, watching the way her eyes sparkled as she explained what music meant to her. She made it look easy, which made me believe in every word. I moved my hands along the strings, trying to figure out a good starting point. I plucked the strings a few times, the notes sounding wrong and shaky. She shook her head, grabbing another guitar off the wall.
"You're thinking about it too hard. Just feel it, channel it into your fingers."
"Now you sound like my quirk counselor. I'm trying to." I tried to force the notes out again, getting the same result.
"Stop. Let's start somewhere else. What do you want to do in the future?" I tilted my head, looking at her in confusion.
"What does that have to do with playing?" She shook her head, idly playing a few notes.
"When I'm in a rut with how I play, I think about my dreams, and channel my feelings into my fingers."
I must have looked even more confused because she quickly answered the question I was about to ask. "I think about how I want to be a hero. I want to go to go UA, and how I'm scared of failing, but I'll try anyway. So, what do you want to do?" She looked at me expectantly, waiting for an answer I couldn't find myself.
"I…I don't know. Everyone keeps asking me that, but I have no clue." My hand loosely slid along the neck of the guitar, the feel of each sting brushing against my fingers sending a shiver down my body. I closed my eyes, drifting into my thoughts as I imagined what my feelings sounded like. My heart knew the notes, my brain wouldn't listen. I knew what I wanted to do, but the memory refused to surface. I could hear Jiro playing.
Her notes felt triumphant. They swelled with her feelings, and at times sounded frantic. But they were all unified, connected. She had her convictions, becoming a hero meant a lot to her, it meant more than anything. How could I compare to that? I had no real motivation for life besides my family. I wanted to protect them, to protect Kota, from the troubles of the world. Did that mean I wanted to be a hero?
My fingers moved on their own. The notes were dull, unsteady, yet purposeful. All things I saw in myself. I didn't know if I was strong enough, so I rejected the idea of being a hero before. I could hear it, fainty. The sounds of my heart resonated with the instrument in my hands. I wasn't strong enough now, but I was getting stronger every day. That was the feeling that pierced through the notes. My hands flew across the strings, still unsteady, but louder than ever. I didn't dare open my eyes to risk losing my concentration. Whatever I was feeling started shining through, and I could think clearer than ever before. My notes started to match Jiro's.
I wanted to be a hero. I would be a hero. That was the thing I couldn't remember all this time. I opened my eyes to see Jiro looking back at me. She was awestruck by what just happened. I smiled at her, tears forming in my eyes. "Thank you, Jiro. I had forgotten my own dreams."
A/N: I struggled a bit with how to write this chapter. Some of this might come off as weird or disconnected from the character, but this is a story about someone recovering from memory loss. Some things won't make sense until later.
Hope you all enjoyed!
