bnha imagines

little curiosity // i. midoriya

midoriya couldn't remember when he wasn't confined to a small tank; he couldn't remember what it was like not to have faces smushed against the glace peering up at him with wonder. he couldn't remember his mother's voice as she warned him when he went to play with the other kids. he couldn't remember his childhood friend's nickname for him. he couldn't remember what his home looked like, what it was like outside of the wretched halls of the aquarium.

  he could remember, though, what he felt as he was ripped out of the water. he could remember the fear as his arms and tail were caught in the fishing net. he could remember the terror upon being lifted out of the water and into the boat. he could remember how hard it was to breathe and how he thought he was going to die.

  he was six when he was taken and thrown into a small pool. he was still a guppy, crying for his mother and hoping the humans would let him go. at first, they poked and prodded at him, his arms littered with scars where they had sliced him open and pricked him with needles.

  when the humans had done their experimenting, he was thrust out into the open. a sea full of ugly faces staring up at him as he was debuted to the public. small ones with disgusting smiles, and big ones with flashing cameras and grotesque looks of awe. the awful, resonating pound that echoed throughout the tank as people banged on the glass despite the clear label near his exhibit description. the horrid sensation of starving until he did the trick the humans wanted him to.

  he needed out before he died.

  you had always had a love for marine biology, studying it intensely through your childhood with numerous books. your bedroom was aquatic themed for years, and even as you grew out of the obsessive phase, you still kept the seashells danging from the ceiling and a few of the bigger textbooks.

  your mother had given you a lifetime pass to the local aquarium when you were younger. you would visit almost every single day, enough for the employees to recognize you and give you special access to secret exhibits or smuggle you into ticketed events. even the managers adored your love of all things marine-based, and they were impressed with your vast knowledge. the merman, though, was your favorite; you would sit in front of his tank, talking for hours on end; keeping him company and yelling at the other little kids who would hit the glass and scare him.

  you found a friend in the merman, and he found one in you.

  but once you hit middle school, your trips ceased. your life was turned upside down by having multiple classes a day, and crowded hallways you could barely squeeze through, and mountains of homework that was to be completed and turned in the next day. and even in the summers, you had work to do. with advanced placement classes and were often sent of to your grandmother's across country.

  that was, until you reached the summer after high school. you had an entire summer to lounge around and do what you pleased before college started, where you'd be attending an out-of-state college for marine biology. you had gotten a full ride due to the hard work in middle and high school, and the rich aunt on your mother's side was going to pay for all that you needed that wasn't covered.

  you had started to pack up your room two months before you had to leave, just to give yourself enough time. you had gone through your old books, choosing some to donate and most to keep. you had filtered through the little knickknacks you collected through your childhood and threw the majority of them away. but as you sifted through your desk, a small card fluttered out of the old wallet you'd picked up.

  "hey mom!" you called from your desk chair.

  the woman poked her head in from the hallway. "yes?"

  you held up the old card, "look what i found."

  her brows knitted, and she entered the room. "is that--"