Master of all quirks, wielder of none.
Humans are quirky. Yet, there was one boy, who was nothing, with no quirks, no emotions. Just nothing. All have just one question.
Who is this quirkless boy with brown hair and golden orbs?
Moreso, What exact...
In this world, heroes were commodities—things to sell, things to own. America had its heroes, Japan had theirs, and many other global powerhouses followed suit. Each country boasted its own unique internship programs, some stringent, others more lenient. Yet, no matter the differences in approach, one thing remained consistent: a curiously muted media. In any other industry, celebrities would be constantly bathed in the spotlight, their virtues praised, their sins dug up from the graves of their past. But not for the heroes. Nobody dared.
There had been a turning point—a moment when the media realized the real danger of their power. It had all started with a promising hero who had fallen. A student of UA High, once celebrated for his brilliance, had unraveled into a villain. His undoing? The discovery of his origins. He wasn't just any student, but the son of the Peerless Thief, a notorious criminal compared to the likes of All For One. And when the media uncovered that this hero had been born from villain DNA, the frenzy began.
They crucified him—not for his deeds but for his bloodline. Overnight, the worth of this hero was burnt to ashes, and when all that was left was his villainous DNA, he became a symbol of hatred. That hatred consumed him, culminating in a catastrophic tsunami that claimed hundreds of lives. He was swiftly locked away in Tartarus, and the media... well, they moved on, leaving his story half-forgotten, buried in whispers.
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And now, I am here, seated in a train car, surrounded by journalists. They are like vultures, circling, eager to pick at my story—the quirkless boy who won the UA Sports Festival. They clamor for my attention, their questions oozing with bias and derision, their offers drenched in mockery.
"Give us an interview, quirkless boy! You'll be famous! This is your only chance to be worth more than a freak!"
Their words come with a twisted grin, as if fame is the only currency I should care about.
"We'll hire you, too!" another one shouts. "How about being a janitor? Think of the money! Head Janitor—can you imagine? You'd be rich!"
"Dear, don't listen to them! You're empowered—truly empowered! We can make you the face of a specially-abled campaign!"
I close my eyes briefly, my thoughts becoming a cold stream that cuts through the noise. They don't see me as a person—just a spectacle, a gimmick, something to exploit. I'd read the theories about me online, seen the whispers on social media. The journalists' words confirm it: I'm nothing but a toy to the public, a tool to manipulate.
The conservatives were the first to react, their skepticism ringing the loudest. To them, I was nothing more than a plant by UA High—a carefully orchestrated marketing stunt designed to boost the school's diversity credentials and rake in more tuition fees. They couldn't fathom that someone without a quirk could win on their own merit. To them, my victory was a dirty trick—a stunt to preach the virtues of "inclusivity" and "woke nonsense."
