𝙸'𝚖 𝚂𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍.

~11~

Mika never liked being a girl. They never liked being a boy either. They weren't one nor the other, rather than just nothing at all. They never liked being called 'little boy' which they learned when an old lady mistaked them for one.

They never liked it when their mother forced them to put on a dress or a skirt either. As much as the pink and green blossoms sparkled when the sun hit it, Mika would cry their eyes out until they got it their way.

Some people said it was just a phase, others said it was rebellion. Their parents just said it was just a lack of taste in style, that eventually Mika would learn to appreciate the flowy clothing and the delicacy of a woman.

That never happened. And Mika got tormented by it.

Everyday they had to make the decision: give in and wear those scruffy heels or give in and hang out with the little boys who bullied them.

But sometimes, Mika didn't have to make that decision. Sometimes, they could run away safely in the shadows of the one person they felt a connection with-—the one person who understood her.

Their younger sister, Miku.

Miku loved two things: spring and Mika. Unlike Mika, she liked the cherry trees and the flower petals on her skirt. She knew her favorite color was white and had a admirable sense of justice. Unlike Miku, Mika was confident in her beliefs. She liked the clicking of heels and the jingles of earrings. The smell of perfume and her collection of purses. Miku was everyone's favorite.

'The chosen blossom' Neighbors would say.

Mika didn't mind though. They knew the neighbors were right. When Mika was four they would see the other kids in school. How some had developed wings while others changed form. How some were stronger than their own teacher and others could disappear.

Mika was astounded, every day greeted with a squeal or two of pure delight as Mika saw another kid getting their quirk.

Everyone would gasp, including Mika. Crowding around the new kid with a quirk, eyes gleaming with joy.

When Mika turned five, Miku was already one. And instead of accompanying their sister to her clinic, Mika went to theirs.

"She 's five. She should've gotten her quirk at four. We waited but there's still no sign of her quirk." Their mother explained, Miku sitting on her lap while Mika took the floor.

Mika grumbled.

"It's true that some kids are late bloomers, some children get their quirks by the age of six. In fact, having no quirk is very unlikely as generations pass by. We'll run some tests to check and see what's going on with her."

Their mother nodded, the doctor setting everything up.

And after a few minutes, he found out that Mika was without a doubt, quirkless.

Everyone, including their family, was disappointed.

'Maybe Miku will get a quirk.' Their parents would whisper; hushed tones while Mika should've been asleep. They heard most of what they said.

And just like predicted, Miku had a slight change a few months after turning four. In the middle of class she felt a bit weird—-exposed to say the least. She didn't know what that feeling was, but it felt like people could feel her emotions --see her emotions.

But it soon turned worse, a sudden surge of energy coursed through her tiny veins, gasping at the new sensation as every micropyle opened up. It was like getting out of a a hot shower, steam surrounding her.

Miku stood up, the teacher's front facing the board as she wrote something down. Miku shook her hands, shocked and confused at this strange thing and wanting it to go away. When forcing it didn't help, she decided to let it leave on it's own, standing still as she awaited for that foreign thing to leave.