Earbuds In

Different

I was always different from the other boys.

When all my friends were playing with dump trucks, I was playing with dolls. 

I never took my shirt off when they did, even if it was 40 degrees.

My parents just assumed I was weird. They didn't realize why I was so different until they got a phone call from my grade 1 teacher.

We had all sat in a circle, saying what we wanted to be when we grew up. At that time, I hadn't even considered being a hero with my Quirk. Most of the other boys said they wanted to be heroes. When it was my turn, I smiled.

"I wanna be a mommy!"

Everyone laughed. 

"Killua, sweetie, only girls can be mommies," I remember the teacher saying.

"Then I'll be a girl too!"

She had called my parents that night. They had talked to me, tried to explain, but I didn't understand. Why couldn't I be a girl if I wanted to be?

In grade 2, I asked for a dress for my birthday. I had been on the computer for weeks, looking for the perfect one. When I finally found it, I said, "If I can't have this dress, I don't want anything."

It was a pink, knee-length, short-sleeved dress, with roses and daisies around the neck. On my birthday, I had opened all of my gifts excitedly.

Not one dress.

In grade 3, I wanted a blue dress with a bow on it. I had said the same thing.

Not one dress.

Every year, I would find the perfect dress. I would show it to my parents, and say the same thing: "If I can't have this dress, I don't want anything." They never listened.

When I was 12, I asked for a simple black dress. No flowers, no bows. Just a knee-length black dress. Before I spoke, Dad said, "Yes, Killua, we know. If you can't have that dress, you don't want anything."

On my 13th birthday, I honestly thought that I would get the dress. I got hoodies, a phone, and a guitar. Not one dress.