Hero The Reluctant Hero

This is the story of the chosen one. She who was foretold in ancient times. The one who would save the world. A tale of coming of age, of an epic clash of good vs evil—

"No, not again!" Hero Akio groaned to herself as she clasped her face, realizing that she was hearing the cultured, disembodied voice of the narrator once more. "I thought I told you to shut up!" she snapped, slapping her palms onto her desk.

It had been a week (as promised) of blissful, uninterrupted silence; not even a single clearing of the hard-working throat of the narrator disrupted Hero's reprieve— "What did I tell you! My name is not Hero!" —but now, as Hero sat in class in her flattering school uniform, glaring up at the ceiling— "I legally changed my name! It's Mary!" — bemoaning her existence out loud (much to the displeasure of the teacher about to scold her for disrupting her class), she was reminded that she had a role to play. A destiny to fulfill—

"Miss Akiyo!"

Hero's naturally purple eyes darted back to the front of the room, where everyone else was watching her. Some of the boys were snickering, few of the girls watched with a questioning glare. Even her crush, Eric— Not my crush! She thought angrily to herself— watched Hero with guarded concern.

The teacher, for her part, (Miss Liverworts) stood stone cold like a statue; one finally manicured eyebrow arching like the entryway to the dark tunnel that was her harsh glare. With a clipped tone, the schoolteacher asked, "May I talk to you in the hall, please?"

"Yes, Miss Liverworts," Hero muttered as she stood, averting her gaze as she sullenly walked out to the hall.

The teacher followed her out, shutting the door quietly before turning to face Hero. "Miss Akiyo," The stern teacher said in a crisp tone, adjusting her prim glasses, "I apologize for forgetting that you've changed your name. But would you mind explaining why you thought my slip of the tongue merited you telling me to 'shut up?"

"I wasn't asking you to shut up, miss liverworts, I was..." Hero's musical voice trailed off as she realized yet again that trying to explain what was happening was futile, at least to someone as no-nonsense as miss liverworts. So, thinking quickly, Hero shrugged and said apologetically, "I am sorry, Miss Liverworts, but I'm having a horrible day. It's nothing to do with you."

"I see; I am sorry to hear that," The teacher said, sounding a little less stern before starting with measured authority, "But that is still no excuse for disrupting my lecture and disrespecting me as you did. As the class president, I expect more from you."

"I didn't ask to be class president," Hero tried to say, "I never even ran for the position."

"But the class all voted unanimously," The teacher pointed out, "and in the end, you did accept, if you recall."

"Yes, I did." even though no one left me any choice. Hero thought begrudgingly. She had to swallow hard to keep herself from shouting at the narrator, who patiently continued to do their job. After a deep breath, Hero brushed her pink hair from her face behind her ears as she collected herself enough to ask kindly, "Would you mind if I go to the office and talk to the counselor?"

Miss Liverworts eyed Hero again with a mixture of impatience and a smattering of reluctance, but in the end, she relented, saying, "You may. But I expect you to make up anything you miss in my class later."

"Of course. Thank you." Hero said before turning on her heel and marching down the hall, her flawless beauty catching more than one eye of the other students in the classrooms she passed by— How many times have I told you not to comment on my looks?— and even as she thought this, the answer to her question came to her mind in an instant (407 if you really must know).