Today would be the first day Kamiko went to the music school as an intern.
She felt agitated.
But the good kind of agitated.
Some people would describe the emotion as anticipation, excitement, or eagerness.
Kamiko did not know. All that she cared about was that she had received a golden opportunity to pursue her goals, and she would not let it escape. She promised herself that as she readied herself in front of the mirror. Combing her strawberry-blonde hair in a style that looked professional, applying mascara to accentuate her amber eyes, straightening her macaroon yellow blouse, and rubbing the lint from her caramel jeans. She hoped that by appearing presentable, her confidence would boost.
If her parents' compliments were anything to go by, then the vivacious colors seemed to work their charm.
Having more than an hour to spare until she was to report for attendance, she sat at the breakfast table with her parents. Immediately, her nose twitched at a familiar aroma.
"Tamagoyaki?" she asked.
"It is good luck to eat your favorite food on the day you start something new," replied her mother as she set a plate of five small, rectangular omelets. There were many more in the large self-serve platter in the center of the table. After having her fill, her phone rang with a text message notification. She checked to see who the sender was. A smile bloomed on her face as she read the kanji: Midoriya. It was a message telling her all the best and that she got this. The little ＼(￣▽￣)／kaomoji made her let out a giggle. The message was cheesy but cute. She sent a kaomoji back.
Kamiko could not stop giggling as she slung her shoulder bag and stepped out the door. Not far from her house was a bus stop. A special bus stop for mutants like her. Unfortunately, the regular city buses were not designed to accommodate especially tall people like her. Not to mention the silent glares and scorn other passengers gave mutants. Equality over equity. At times, this posed more of a problem than a solution. To overcome this issue, the city permitted the creation of particular buses that would allow a safe ride for mutant commuters. However, mutant quirks lied on a spectrum. The special buses were large, spacious, and had many other commodities, but there was still plenty of room for development.
She could not think about that for now. Her internship was more important.
When she arrived at the bus stop, she was surprised to see it empty. It was a weekday morning, so should not have been there a few passengers waiting for a ride? Curious, she looked around for answers. Then her gaze landed on a flyer taped to the glass wall of the bus stop. It read that no special buses would be available today because a sudden outage occurred in the system. Kamiko sighed in disappointment. It would have been great had city transportation made an announcement about this online, first thing in the morning. At the very least, she would not have wasted her time coming here.
But she did not have the time to be bitter. Bless her good habit of leaving early. She had ample time to reach the school by foot. Steeling her nerves, she jogged to the school, having memorized the route yesterday.
Kamiko arrived at the school earlier than she had expected.
But early was better than late.
Sparing a moment to touch up in the restroom, she headed toward the principal's office. After submitting her filled in paperwork, the principal handed her ID card. Furukawa Kamiko, it read. Position: Intern. Employee: Regular. It was official. Kamiko was going to learn music at this school for a long time to come. The prospect made her tail swish back and forth.
The door opened, and she was introduced to her private tutor and boss. A short, pretty woman with chocolate eyes and sable eyes. Her smile was kind, which made her appear decades younger, but her eyes shone with keen intelligence that those who have lived years only possess. Perhaps because it was difficult to determine her age that the lilac komon she wore carried an aura of elegance. In fact, all Kamiko could do was marvel at the woman.
The woman bowed to Kamiko. "Pleasure to meet you, Furukawa-san. My name is Abe Kanato, and I will be guiding you through your lessons at our school."
Embarrassed by her train of thoughts, Kamiko returned the bow. "The pleasure is mine, Abe-sensei! Squeak!" She loathed that her ears and tail were just as much of a traitor as her voice.
Abe-sensei smiled silently in amusement as she passed Kamiko her schedule. Unable to make eye contact at the moment, she scanned the schedule with more scrutiny than was necessary. Her first class was Introduction to Music Theory, where the fundamentals of music would be taught. The rest of her classes consisted of introductory courses in instrumentation, reading sheet music, voice emission, music history, and piano, the one instrument she could play without destruction. There was a gap in between for lunch, and after her lessons for the day, she would collaborate one-on-one with Abe-sensei to hone her skills. Just looking at the hours would make anyone stressful. Not Kamiko.
Excitement washed away all dredges of humiliation.
A glint shimmered in her eyes.
"When do we start?"
Unlike the day of the interview, Kamiko's first day passed with tears of laughter and fun.
Music Theory class started with writing down one's doubts and fears on a scrap of paper, only to toss it into the recycling bin. Voice emission class included howling away one's stress in a room of silence before lessons were taught. Instrumentation class began with mediation and ended with meditation. Music History class was her favorite. Its teacher created puns and mnemonics to remember the names of instruments and composers. Most of all, no one mocked her.
Perhaps that is why she was enthusiastic at lunchtime even though she was exhausted. A strange oxymoron, indeed. She bought a large cup of coffee and cake from the cafeteria. Even the school's food was delicious! That was nothing short of a miracle.
The remainder of classes went by just as smoothly.
Then it was time to meet Abe-sensei.
Kamiko went to her office. Much like the komon, Abe-sensei's office radiated with regality. An azalea bonsai in one corner, blue ceramic pottery lining the shelves, and tatami panels across the floor. What caught Kamiko's eye was a framed hanshi along one wall. She moved closer to inspect it. It was a work of calligraphy. A mandatory subject that every student in Japan learned in primary school, but only a few who grew to make it a passion or a career.
The strokes upon the thin, cream-colored paper were beautiful. Writing cursive with pencil was difficult enough, writing cursive with brush seemed almost impossible. But in front of Kamiko's eyes was proof was that it was not. Every stroke was masterful. She became so lost in the perfection of the work that she almost ignored the message it read. Fall seven times, get up eight. It was a proverb that many children grew up hearing, so it piqued her interest why it would be here, of all places.
That was when a delicate cough behind her snapped her attention to the real world. Kamiko whizzed around at the source of the sound to spot Abe-sensei standing beside her and cast a knowing smirk at her and the shodo art. She was surprised at the woman's stealth. How did she come in without me knowing? How did my enhanced senses not pick up on her presence?
"Lovely, isn't it?" Abe-sensei asked.
"Wonderful, Sensei. Did you make this?"
When Abe-sensei replied that she did indeed, Kamiko could not help but praise the woman. Her cursive looked like scribbles in primary school, so to come upon such excellence … the compliments were heartfelt.
Abe-sensei chuckled, "Thank you, Furukawa-san. But I am more curious about your day so far. Would you like to share?"
Kamiko did just that with glee. Narrating all the events made her giggle all over again. Again, she was astonished when Abe-sensei joined her. She could not help but thinking about the juxtaposition this woman was. One moment this woman carried herself with an air of confidence that not even Kamiko could muster, the next moment the same woman could laugh without any reservation. She spoke like a sweet, older friend.
So when Abe-sensei asked if Kamiko anything strange occurred, she did not hesitate in her reply. "This whole day has been strange. I have never been this exhilarated at school. The school's photos on the website matched what was going on in person. There were non-mutant students and non-mutant teachers interacting normally with mutant counterparts. Not once did I have to worry about who might bully me as I tried my best to learn. How is it possible?"
Again, Abe-sensei gave her that meaningful simper. "Did you read the 'About' section of the school's website?"
"I did," Kamiko replied confusedly. "It mentioned something briefly about the founder being a non-mutant who befriended mutants. Is that why the school is so mutant-friendly?"
"That is only the censored version. You'll learn about this soon in Music History class, but there is no harm in telling you now." Abe-sensei detailed the true story behind the school. The school's founder was indeed a non-mutant. His quirk enabled him to create song spells. He was adopted by a mutant couple and raised in a predominantly mutant neighborhood. But he did more than befriend the community. He fell in love with a dolphin mutant girl, who cherished music just as much as him. The couple knew about the prejudice surrounding the community, but they did not want that prejudice to deny education. So they built this school and encouraged acceptance of students of all quirks. This occurred more than two hundred years ago.
After Abe-sensei finished, Kamiko whispered, "That's a sweet story. What happened afterward?"
At that moment, Abe-sensei's smile faded. "The couple was persecuted. Racism and bigotry against mutants. While their community was excited about the opportunity, those from neighboring cities were not. One day, their anger took control over them, and they executed everyone from the area. The school was almost razed down."
The situation is not any better now, Kamiko wanted to say. The racism and bigotry still existed. If it was not in the form of persecution, it appeared in the nasty remarks and seething glowers. It manifested itself in the media and public places. She was suddenly reminded of the war, and how the treatment worsened for people like her after it ended.
Was there any hope of a safe future for her?
She had thought the music school was her lighthouse. And now that she had approached it, she noticed that there was a vast, treacherous ocean beyond it.
The thought hurt. Kamiko pushed it aside and forced her cheer as she asked, "What will I learn from you today?"
Izuku was out patrolling tonight.
His last stop was along Takoba Municipal Beach Park.
He was hoping to observe silently, but of course, idols are not granted that luxury.
A boy spotted his green costume and shouted for his friends to come over. More people noticed, and soon everyone was preoccupied with the future Symbol of Peace instead of the brilliant sunset over the water. Not that Izuku was averse to it.
People thanking him for his contribution, recognizing his efforts, looking forward to what change he would bring … he liked it. He liked the fame not for the money or popularity, but because he had the people's love and respect. It was why he was not tired by all the requests for selfies and autographs. The boy and his friends who saw him asked him to play volleyball with them, which he did with no complaint. Perhaps this evening would make headlines on the gossip news tomorrow, but he did not care. There was no shame in having fun with the public.
Hours passed. The stars lit the night sky by the time he found some free time.
He took off his shoes and waded in the ocean water. Each wave lit with the blue bioluminescence of microorganisms. It was ethereal. Furukawa should see this with me next time, he thought all of a sudden. For now, he took a picture and sent it to her without an explanation. First the kaomoji, now a beach photo. Immediately, the doubts settled in. Was this imposing of him? Was he pushing his boundaries? What impression would she have of him? Izuku thought of the beach as his and Furukawa's little secret. But was he the only one who assumed so?
Smothered in these thoughts, he almost failed to notice that his phone just tinged with a notification. A reply from Furukawa. So beautiful. I wish I was there right now.
Like a tsunami, those self-deprecating doubts washed away. That such a simple message would have such an effect on him, he did not. Not even two seconds later, Izuku texted back, You can. Wanna FaceTime? Again, he did not waste any time clicking the video call button when he got permission.
"You look pretty," he remarked when Furukawa's face appeared on the screen. "Yellow really suits you." Her squeaky thank-you made his cheeks color. Before he could make a fool of himself, he switched the camera view to look out at the fluorescent water. Her effervescence made him grin in delight.
"This view is such a mood lifter," she said. "Again, thank you, Midoriya."
Mission accomplished.
"No problem. So how did your first day go? I want to hear all about it," he replied.
"You first," she said. "I want to know what U.A. is like."
Izuku sat down by the edge of the water and proceeded to do just that.