Archive of Our Own

"It's alright, sweetheart. We're just going to have a little talk with the teacher." Tsukushi Monoma gently ushered her younger son , Takeru, out of the car and towards the front of the building. She was mindful not to lay hands on him without the child inviting it first.

"They always tell us how smart you are and how you always want more books to look at." Takeru's father, the Pro Hero -  Phantom Thief, Neito Monoma, added his own reassurance with a flourish of his hand. He bowed and smiled as he shut the doors of the car behind them.

Takeru Monoma looked up at his parents. Everyone in the family was very good at talking. Mother always seemed to know what to say to make friends. Papa always knew what to say to make people do things. Shiro-oniichan... always had a lot to say. Takeru rarely chose to say anything. He knew lots of words, but they just didn't come out. He hugged his latest book to his chest, a picture guide of animals from the trip they'd taken to the zoo as if shielding himself from something. "I'm okay." He walked towards the school. This wasn't the time for classes, he understood that much of how the week went, something else was going on.

~~~

"Now, I want to stress that nothing is wrong with Takeru-kun's learning." The counselor, a middle-aged woman with hair that looked like ferns, had come around her desk to stand in front of it, leaning back against the edge. "Quite the contrary; Takeru's teacher reports that he's well past his age level for all literacy benchmarks, takes instruction well, and is doing just fine with numbers. No accidents with his Quirk since the first time it emerged either." The lady lowered her head, trying to make eye contact with Takeru. "You should be very proud, Takeru-kun."

Tsukushi beamed, but something about her smile didn't quite reach her eyebrows. "And?" She pressed for more, as Takeru started flipping through the book.

The woman handed Tsukushi and Neito each a sheet of paper. "I'd like you to look at these. This one is a summary of the social and emotional benchmarks we hope to see children reach before they move into elementary school." She pointed to the second sheet. "Here are Takeru-kun's assessments on those scales."

Sitting between them, Takeru continued turning pages as he could hear the papers crinkling as his parents compared them.

They were never this quiet.

“Based on the assessments, we determined that Takeru-kun is on the spectrum of behavioral divergence. Very high-functioning for tasks and skill and information acquisition, but with some notable sensitivities as well, and difficulty processing the emotions of others. The touch-aversion, the audio sensitivity, the non-verbal tendencies, all stemming from that… but Takeru-kun, you told your teacher and your classmates that you like being part of activities with the other children, right?”

Hesitantly, Takeru closed the book and nodded. They were talking about him a lot, and only part of the time like he was here.

The counselor picked up another folder, opening it in the same motion, and handed it to the couple. “These incoming students are friends of Takeru-kun’s, correct? I was able to ask their parents for permission to discuss them with you.”

Tsukushi visibly relaxed again. “Of course! Takeru, Mako and Taishiro are your best friends, aren’t they?”

Takeru also relaxed somewhat for the first time since they’d all entered the office. “Yes.” He nodded, turning to look at the photos along with his mother. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his father looking curious about where this was going.

“We’ve found that with cases like Takeru-kun’s, students benefit from a delay before entering standard classes. Developmentally, there isn’t that much difference between five and six-year-olds, so he should still fit in just fine, and if Takeru-kun’s assessments ever come up enough, he could be moved ahead to the standard grade for his age. Having a support system like other children he knows is also a huge benefit while taking extra time to develop social awareness. So, would the two of you like to explore this option?”

“I’d rather ask my son what he would like. Takeru--,” Tsukushi waited patiently until he turned to look at her. “--, what would you like to do?”

Takeru looked at her, then at the counselor, then stopped to think. His father nodded to the counselor, indicating for her to wait. Takeru, when he chose to speak, did not do so without carefully considering his words. “I would do kindergarten again,” he spoke up after almost two minutes, “and Mako and Tai would be there?”

“That’s right, honey. If that’s what you want.” Tsukushi nodded.

“And I’m not normal?” He inquired further, looking at each of the adults, holding his closed book to his chest again.

As both Tsukushi and the counselor seemed about to respond, Neito held up a hand and got out of his chair. He dropped to one knee to talk to Takeru on his own level. “What is normal? What do you think that means, Takeru?”

Takeru looked back, mildly surprised. “...like everybody else?”

Neito smiled and shook his head. “There is nothing that is like everybody else. Everybody is their own person. Do you remember what I taught you and Shiro about being a star?”

Takeru brightened somewhat, always enjoying when he could show he had memorized something. “‘We are all bit players in the lives of others, and the stars of only our own.’”  

Neito smiled in confirmation. “You don’t have to be like anybody else but you. We want you to be the best you that you can be, and to be happy. So what would make you happy?”

Takeru went very still, eyes widening.

‘What would make you happy?’

“I…” Takeru uncharacteristically faltered mid-sentence. “I… I want to… I’m…” Another pause, followed by a deep breath. “I’m not ‘him’.” The book was clutched tighter. “I’m not ‘he’.”

The adults all exchanged surprised glances. Tsukushi joined her husband in kneeling by Takeru. “What do you want to tell us, Takeru? Are you not a boy?”

“I’m not a boy.” The instant reply was another surprise. “I’m not like Tai, not like Papa, not like oniichan. But I’m not like Mother, I’m not like Mako. I’m not a girl.”

“Then for you, that’s what is normal,” Neito told them. “You don’t have to be anyone but you. If you want to be something else, that’s who you are.” He extended a downward-facing palm, questioningly.

Takeru nodded, made a small sound of affirmation, and moved forward to let their father pat their head. “I would like to do kindergarten again. I’ll do my best.”

Tsukushi smiled and looked at the counselor. “They’ll be repeating the year.”