MHA-XARIA HIGH (CURRENTLY BEING RE-WRITTEN!)

CHPT 10 - OLD PAST

[P.O.V : 2ND PERSON.]
In a desk, sat a child. A child that knew what he was and what he wanted to be. A brave hero, one that would save many without breaking a sweat.

"Mayumi! Cone downstairs!" His mother calls, a name that wasn't his, not anymore.

"Coming nanay!" He calls back, untying the long, pale blue strands of hair that grew from his head. He had long hair, long enough to touch his calves.

The boy bounds down the steps of his family home, the purple tutu and jelly shoes sparkle and shimmer.
His mother smiles, Aunty and uncle reach out their arms for a hug.
"There's my girl, how have you been, Mayumi?"

The child bounds around, excitedly showing off drawings he made at school, one that depicted him and his friends as heroes once they got their quirks.

"Oh, where are you, Mayumi?" Aunty asks, and the boy points to him, standing in between the kemodo dragon and the toon boy.

Mom and dad are still smiling, while aunty and uncle look confused
"But that's a boy, babae. You are a girl."
He nods.
"I know, Tiya."
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Aunty and uncle stopped visiting, even after the child's quirk manifested, bones and all, half skeleton, bones trailing from the top of his now short haired head.
He energetically sketched in his notebook, the news in the background, talking about a quirk that manifested in a school and caused mass destruction.
Quirks were getting powerful, and only about 10% of the population didn't have any.

"Nanay..!" He calls, opening his door.
Mom answers, peeking up from the bottom of the staircase with a laundry basket.
"Yes, Mayumi?"
He pauses, huffing.
"When do I get to go back to school?"
It's mom's turn to pause, the woman looking a bit solemn, but smiling still.

"I don't know."
The boy squints, pouting.
"Why?" He asks, moving to sit on the top step. Mom sighed, looking up towards the ceiling. "Because. Sometimes...sometimes quirks aren't made for hero work. And-"

"That's not true." The boy says, staring into his mothers eyes. "Uravity says anyone can be a hero. Beelzebul says anyone can be one, too."
Mom shakes her head, dropping the clothes basket onto the floor.
"You don't understand, Mayumi. People are afraid, they're afraid of you, of us-" The boy slams his foot onto the staircase, his hands in fists.

"But why!? We didn't do anything! There's nothing wrong with us!"

Mom wrapped her arms around her shoulders, pulling at her dark hair
"M-Mayumi, please,"

The boys teeth clench, and he grips his sleeves "THATS NOT MY NAME!"

The house falls silent, chilly. Just the two of them on the stairs.

"I-I'm sorry, Mitsuko." Mom says after a moment, turning to look at her son, his face tearful and upset.
"I wish tatay was here." Mitsuko mutters, stepping back, and turning to his room, slamming the door shut.

Dad wouldn't be here. He'd never be able to come back.
The news plays on screen

'More and more attacks against slayer spawn have been appearing these days.'

Mitsuko stares blankly at the television, his dark eyes glaring holes into the face of the reporter, whom rambles on without a care, seemingly enjoying the fact that people were getting killed.

'With the total death toll rising to about 20% higher than last year.'

But his father, his mother, their ancestors, they were right.
Those weren't quirk users, they weren't mutation quirks.

Mitsuko angrily turns off the TV, climbing into his bed.

Those were demons.

Maybe humanity should have listened when they had a chance.