Chapter Text
Sometimes, you really do wonder what the point of living is.
It’s a pessimistic take, you know. Certainly not one that a sixteen-year-old should have, but it’s not your fault that you feel this way. You’ve been conditioned to. It’s been instilled deep inside of you, after many years of being treated like dirt, being told you’re worthless, and being denied any love.
Your parents are abusive. In fact, that’s putting it lightly. They are evil, degenerate scum; monsters clothed in human skin. You’ve never understood why some people choose to have children, despite not wanting them. Being a parent is probably much harder than you can imagine, but even so. It isn’t fair. Other kids look forward to going home after school, and seek comfort in their families. Meanwhile, yours causes you nothing but fear.
Nobody will help you. You’re too scared to speak up, and everyone constantly turns a blind eye to your abuse. Even when you deliberately show up to school with your sleeves rolled up, so that your bruises are in plain view, the teachers refuse to acknowledge it. Your classmates make no effort to interact with you either. Probably because you’re so anxious, constantly nibbling on your fingernails, eyes bloodshot and fearful. You flinch whenever anyone gets too close. Just like how you’ve been conditioned towards dark, morbid thoughts, the kids in your school have become conditioned to avoid you. You suppose you can’t really blame them. You don’t know how to be friendly. You don’t know how to act normal.
Still.
It hurts that nobody even bothers to try.
The moment the last bell of the day rings, everyone is in a hurry to leave. Students filter out of the building, eager to be off school grounds as soon as possible. Apart from the obvious exceptions, such as some that are sometimes stuck on classroom duty, or those that have clubs to attend, it usually doesn’t take long for the rooms and hallways to quiet down. You’re the obvious exception to this rule. You remain seated at your desk, long after everyone has already left.
“Let’s not do this today, [Name],” your teacher sighs irritably. “Come on. I have an appointment to get to, and I can’t afford to be late. I want to be able to lock up behind me.”
As expected. It’s always the same tiresome routine. You keep waiting and waiting for someone to take action. For someone to save you. But it never happens, because the world is full of cowards. You know this all too well, because you’re also a coward. If only you had the nerve to go to the police. If only you were strong enough to see past your fear of the future, of how your parents might retaliate against you.
You wish you were brave enough to do something like that. You wish you were brave enough to face your problems instead of always running from them.
But of course, you’re not.
The teacher ushers you outside, while you drag your feet in resignation. You don’t want to go home. You’ll get in trouble if you stay out too late, but if you head back right now, you’re well aware of what’s waiting for you. Regardless of what choice you make, the outcome is ultimately the same. At the very least, you’d like to delay your suffering as much as possible.
It goes without saying that your parents never give you money for anything. You can feel your stomach grumbling as you walk through town. You can’t stop by a restaurant, because you need to be a paying customer. You can’t afford to go to an internet cafe either, so you end up in the same place as always—the library.
Here, internet is free, as long as you get lucky enough to snag an unused computer. It just so happens that the universe feels like being merciful today. You hurriedly take a seat, pull out your cheap earbuds that are just barely hanging on by a thread, and drown out the world by playing your favorite anime.
My Hero Academia. A world in which most people have wondrous, unique powers. It’s a superhero concept, and obviously not grounded in reality, but maybe that’s why you like it so much. You like the idea of people devoting themselves to others. You like the idea of people being kind and selfless, but above all else—you like the idea of such qualities being recognized as morally and objectively good.
There’s nobody like that in your life. That’s why you find comfort in fiction, fantasy, a world that will never be your own. It’s silly, of course. You already know that, even without being told.
But maybe someday… someday, you might be able to escape. Maybe someone will finally save you, and cherish you, just like you’ve always dreamed of.
“Excuse me. We’re closing up now. You need to get ready to leave.”
One of the library attendants narrows her eyes at you, and when she casts a glance towards your screen and sees what you’re watching, she seems rather exasperated by your childishness.
“Shouldn’t you be focusing on your studies?” she frowns. “You’re a high-schooler. If you keep wasting your days like this, you won’t be able to get into a good college.”
“...I’m sorry.”
It’s all you know how to say. Having repeated the words over and over again for many years, you suppose it’s become something akin to a reflex. Even if the words that spill from your lips aren’t genuine. Even if you have no reason to apologize.
You leave the library. The sky is dark, practically pitch black by now. You’re tempted to stay out even later, but it’s cold, and you’re exhausted. Nowhere else is even open this late anyway. Nowhere you can loiter around without any money, that is. Maybe your parents will have already fallen asleep. It’s unlikely, but… the least you can do is hope.
Feet dragging behind you, you begin the trek home. Already, your stomach is clenching apprehensively. You do your best not to imagine what will happen once you step through those doors, but as expected, it’s impossible.
Life, however, is cruel. As if it wasn’t bad enough being treated miserably by your own parents, there are other dangers that you need to be wary of as well. Cruelty runs rampant in many forms. Your parents have never taken their abuse far enough to actually put your life at risk, but some people don’t bother to restrain themselves.
You realize it far too late. The footsteps approaching from behind were so deliberately quiet that you only manage to turn once there’s nowhere left to go.
By that point, the knife has already been plunged into your chest.
It hurts. It hurts unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before, which is a harrowing reminder that however much a person has suffered, it can always be worse.
Just as suddenly as you were stabbed, the blade is forcefully torn from your flesh, blood spraying from the open wound. You collapse to your knees, frantically palming at your chest, but to no avail. Every breath is barely a wheeze, and there’s a sheen of tears across your cheeks, damp and warm, much like the crimson fluid pouring onto the ground.
You barely even got to look at your attacker’s face. You have no idea who they are, or what they have against you. Odds are that they couldn’t even care less. They probably just wanted to kill someone, anyone, and you were unfortunate enough to cross their path.
Stillness overtakes you. The criminal has already run away, leaving you facedown against the concrete, as your body becomes infinitely colder than you ever thought it could be.
So, this is death. You’re afraid. Terrified, even. Not that it’s going to change anything, no matter how hard you try to fight it. You’re right on the cusp of crossing over, and it’s clear that you have no choice but to come to terms with your reality.
You’re going to die—right here, right now. Your only solace is that at least this will be the last time you suffer. Once this moment comes to pass, you will simply cease to exist. Everything will be over, just like that.
Your despair may be tinged with relief, but even so, you can’t say this is what you wanted. In fact, you know exactly what you wanted, all this time, and it was for someone to care about you.
That’s it. Just that.
You’re really going to die… without ever knowing what it feels like to be loved.
A few more tears spill down your cheeks, and your eyes slowly flutter shut, for the very last time.
“...look at her! Oh my goodness, isn’t she the cutest little thing you’ve ever seen?”
Light filters into view. It’s gradual at first, just a bunch of blurred images that you can’t make sense of, but eventually, it all takes form. You see people. Two people, to be precise. A man and a woman, and for some reason, they’re staring down at you with warm, beaming expressions.
They’re so close. And they look so happy. What is there to be happy about? You don’t understand. The last thing you remember is succumbing to death, at long last, but you doubt they’d be all that thrilled at the sight of a dead body.
Maybe this is the afterlife. Some people don’t believe that the afterlife even exists, but you’ve speculated about it from time to time. Your fear prevented you from ever following through with your morbid thoughts, but already, it seems like a much better place to be. You feel all bundled up and comfortable, like someone wrapped you in ribbons of the sun. The people staring down at you seem kind, too. Maybe they’re thankful to have some company, wherever this is. Also, there’s the sound of a baby cooing in adoration, which brings you a strange sense of peace.
…wait. Babies? In the afterlife? It’s possible, of course, and the thought alone is heartbreaking, but somehow, you feel like you’ve wildly misconstrued the situation.
“Oh,” the woman blinks. “She stopped all of a sudden. And she’s making a pretty serious face. What’s wrong, darling? This is all so new to you, isn’t it?”
She smiles again, then leans in closer. Hardly a second later, you feel something. You feel her soft lips pressing against your forehead, in what can only be described as a gentle, loving kiss.
Immediately, you understand what happened.
This isn’t the afterlife. You’re lying flat on your back, incapable of rolling over, but you can still direct your gaze all around. What presents itself to you is nothing more than an ordinary bedroom. More specifically, a nursery. Which means that the woman who just kissed you, along with the man standing next to her, must be your parents.
Without a doubt, you died. You remember the pain all too vividly. You remember what it felt like to bleed out, hopelessly, as everything faded into nothingness. At first, you were terrified, but then you simply welcomed it. You were too tired to keep fighting anymore. You just wanted to close your eyes once and for all.
Perhaps you would have found peace in eternal rest, but no. It seems your story is far from over. Instead of dying permanently, you’ve been reborn—into a family that actually loves you this time. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted, but you could only ever dream of it coming true.
Happiness has evaded you for so long, but finally, it seems like it’s willing to shine down upon you.
Your mother covers her mouth and gasps. “Honey, look! She’s smiling! She’s actually smiling, isn’t she??”
“Do newborns usually smile?” your father asks, tilting his head inquisitively.
“Well, I don’t know how common it is, but just look at her! She’s smiling! She’s really, really smiling!”
“You’re right. Haha. When she smiles, her cheeks puff out and look even squishier than normal.”
Your father carefully picks you up and takes you into his arms. Sure enough, you’re being lifted as if you’re weightless. You’re a baby in every sense of the word, and perhaps most people in your position would be frustrated by their lack of freedom, but truly, you’ve never felt more serene.
This is what it’s supposed to be like. This is what a family should be.
You close your eyes and melt into his embrace, and you nearly break into tears knowing that from now on, your life will be every bit as peaceful as you always hoped.
To some extent, you’re right. You finally have loving parents now. You have parents that will put your wellbeing first. Parents that would never even think of harming you. The time spent with your family is destined to be peaceful, sure, but as for the rest of your life…
What awaits you is chaotic, unpredictable, and completely beyond fathom.
For a few days, everything is normal. It’s actually kind of interesting having awareness as a newborn. Children develop infantile amnesia, so these memories almost always fade away. You don’t really mind it, though. It’s really nice being taken care of. All you do is eat and sleep, and the affection that your parents shower you with is something you doubt you’ll ever get tired of.
Then, inevitably, comes the fateful moment. The turning point in what you assumed to be a relaxing, happy, mundane life.
You hear the sound of someone ringing your doorbell. Your mother rushes to the front of the house, while your father carries you in his arms and walks you over. It seems like your neighbors have stopped by to visit. Apparently they called earlier, but you were down for a nap, so you didn’t hear it.
“Welcome!” your mother happily greets, swinging the door open in one fluid motion. There are two people standing outside, although you can’t quite get a good look at them from where you are, and you start fussing in your father’s arms, trying to signal him to move closer. “Aw, you brought your baby!” you hear your mother giggle excitedly. “I was hoping I’d get to meet him today. He’s so adorable! He really is the spitting image of you, Mitsuki.”
All things considered, Mitsuki is a fairly common Japanese name. You’ve lived in Japan all your life, even before dying and being reborn. Naturally, you assumed that you’d been reborn into the same time period, just shortly after your death. You’re a newborn baby, so you haven’t exactly gotten to see much of the world within just a few short days. Perhaps that’s why you don’t think much of it at first.
However, it starts getting really weird, really fast.
Your father has moved close enough for you to see your two neighbors in full. They’re a couple, man and woman, and just like your mother said, it appears that they have a baby of their own. The father has spiky brown hair, a gentle expression, and wears glasses, and the mother looks incredibly youthful, even as far as new mothers go, with flawless pale skin, equally spiky blonde hair, and when she opens her mouth, well—
Put simply, she’s loud.
“Thanks so much for having us!” Mitsuki exclaims, with a wide, infectious grin. “I kept telling Masaru I could hardly wait to see your little girl, but I didn’t want to overwhelm her by showing up too soon. But wow, she really does look just like a princess! She’s a little angel. Meanwhile, this guy here keeps screaming and throwing a fit every chance he gets.”
“What’s his name?” your mother eagerly asks.
“Katsuki,” Mitsuki replies, and just like that, you feel your entire world flip upside down.
Mitsuki. Masaru. Katsuki. Those are all names you’ve heard before, and not in the real world. Their appearances are a dead giveaway too. You’ve seen the anime so many times by now that the resemblance is uncanny.
But isn’t that… impossible?
You never expected that your love for My Hero Academia would allow you to awaken in the very world that you once used as escapism. Even now, you still remain somewhat unconvinced. Maybe the names are just extremely coincidental. The names, appearances, and personalities. Maybe this is a perfectly ordinary situation, and your brain is making connections as you see fit.
You really don’t know what to believe, however, right as you’re deep in thought and more confused than you’ve ever been, Katsuki shifts slightly and directs his crimson gaze towards you.
“Ba,” he simply says. The grunt is sharp and rather decisive-sounding, as far as infants go. He’s frowning at you too. His little eyebrows are knit together in a perpetual scowl—which reminds you even more of Bakugou Katsuki.
There’s only one way to figure out if this is actually real, and as more time passes, you know the answer will become clear. Still, as ridiculous as the whole thing sounds, you secretly hope that you’re right. You find yourself yearning for a fantastical life, to wash away the bad memories of the past.
It can happen. Here, in this brand-new life, you’ll have a reason to smile. And you’ll make something of yourself, too. You won’t question the meaning of life anymore. You’ll just accept it—enjoy it.
Then again, perhaps you’re wrong.
Perhaps the cost of having acquired a new life is greater than you could ever have imagined.