Chapter Text
“I’m going to be a hero!” The purple haired child pumped his fist into the air, his gaze set steadily on the screen which reflected the number one hero: All Might.
His mother looked at him, “Yea? Only children who eat all their vegetables become heroes Minoru.” His mother, Umeko, laughed, teasing him slightly as she slid his plate closer to him.
Immediately, the child’s energised state evaporated, his shoulders slumping down as he accepted his fate. He picked his fork up, a prominent pout on his childish face. Slowly, he began picking at his dinner his new found determination to become a hero fuelling him. Within ten minutes he had finished his food looking proud of himself. “Look mama, I ate all my vegetables! Including the peas!” He exclaimed, parading the empty plate to his mother.
His mother looked at him shocked, a surprised smile on her face, “Really? You did so well, Minoru, you’ll make an excellent hero!” She patted his head with a fondness only a mother could carry. She had no doubt in her son, she knew he would make a great hero. However she could only hope the future treated her son well.
“How about this?” She started, crouching down to meet him eye level, “I’ll put you in extra classes after school and help you with your quirk?” She knew how hard it was to get into a hero course; no matter which school it was. She herself had tried and failed the UA entrance exams, and seeing her retired dreams root themselves in her son exhilarated her. She decided right there and then she would help her son in any way she could.
“Extra classes?” Minoru grumbled, looking down at his lap, “Is school not enough?” He questioned the fact that he would need to do more learning even after seven hours at school. He liked school, of course he did, just like any other child he enjoyed playing with his friends, he enjoyed the praises he got from a teacher when he answered a question right, he enjoyed showing his spotless report card to his mom every term. But the exhaustion he felt was undeniable and he didn't know if he could handle anything more.
“Only on the weekends.” His mother chuckled, caressing his cheek softly, “That way, you can get plenty of rest and have enough energy to do some learning! Sounds fair?” Umeko tilted her height to the side, questioning, she waited patiently for a reply. She wasn't going to force him into it if he didn't want it. He was a kid after all, only six, and she knew how fast a child’s interest came and went.
She was a witness to his earlier interests and a victim to his continuous passionate rambles about each one: A doctor, a firefighter, batman and even a bus driver. She chuckled quietly at the last one, remembering her surprise and confusion when he had suddenly exclaimed his desire to be a bus driver.
“Why do you want to become a bus driver, Mino?” She asked sleepily and gazed at the alarm clock on her desk, three am, fabulous. She yawned lazily and slowly sat up on the bed, shifting her attention to the wide awake five year old who sat eagerly on her bed.
“Because they’re so cool! They say hello to me in the morning and make me so happy!” he said excitedly, jumping up and down on the bed, “Not only that but they also say bye to me when I head off to go to school, I want to make others that happy!”
Her heart had melted into a puddle at that moment and all she could do was pull her child into a sleepy hug, silently thanking her luck with Minoru. She knew children were innocent angels and she thought she had grown immune to the constant cuteness displayed by her child— spoiler alert she hadn’t.
She was probably thinking too much, Mino would properly be just as excited about another career tomorrow, but the way her heart beat in excitement and secret hope, she wished that her son’s interest in heroism would never fade.
“Will I be able to train my quirk as well mommy?” He looked up at his mother’s face, hopeful. Umeko nodded with a grin. His face lit up and he tightly hugged her, his small arms struggling to wrap around her torso. He buried his face in her stomach, “I’m going to become the best hero I can be.” He promised, his voice full with determination that Unemo hoped would stay.
The next day, Minoru awoke earlier than usual, his movements airy as he got ready for school. He brushed his teeth willingly— much to Umeko’s delight— and even insisted on a healthy breakfast rather than his usual cereal. “A strong hero has to be hyge-hygienic!” He said, stumbling at the new word, but eventually managed to pronounced it right. “They must also eat healthy to grow strong and tall!” He ate his omelette diligently, scarfing it down like he’s never eaten before.
Umeko placed her hand on Minoru’s, “If you eat too fast, the food won’t get processed and make you strong.” She threatened and slid the cup of water closer to him, “Take your time, we’ve got plenty of time to waste till school starts.” She eyed her phone, too much time. She smiled to herself, enjoying her son’s company, and leaned back, basking in the warmth of the moment.
The kitchen door flew open, revealing a drunken Mr Mineta. His hair was disheveled he set his unfocused gaze on Umeko, “You.” He slurred sloppily making his way closer. Umeko stood up, protectively shielding Minoru from his sight. “It’s all your fault!” His alcoholic breath hit her nose and she cringed, stepping away.
“What’s my fault?” She questioned, her stance protective. Minoru cowered behind her, purposefully making himself look smaller. Maybe that way I could disappear, he thought to himself. He was used to his father’s antics by now, yet he never stopped missing the way his father used to be. Kind, gentle and so so funny- he could only vaguely remember those days. Umeko’s heart sobbed, and her anger flared up. “Last time I checked, Manami, I was not the one out drinking all night.” She spat his name disgustedly, her nails digging deep into her palms.
Minoru slowly inched away from his parents, his half eaten breakfast repulsed him now, his earlier excitement had now been replaced by terror and dread. He wished he could disappear, he wished his dad could disappear and leave him and his mom alone. He wished and wished and wished, but the drunken voice of his father never went away, instead it grew louder and louder, it grew more and more aggressive until all Minoru could hear was his uneven breaths and gasps.
“I can’t..” He sobbed, “I can’t breathe!” He choked out, his small body slumping onto the kitchen floor. He grasped at his shirt feeling immense pressure on the centre of his chest. He tried grabbing at it frantically, scrunching the material. “Mama.” He cried, asking for help but his voice wasn’t loud enough. No. It could never be louder than his dad’s drunken accusations or his mother’s protective shouting. Slowly, his vision grew weaker, black dizzying spots invading his eye sight.
He still couldn’t breathe. At least he thought so but he felt light, like a feather. No longer feeling the dread his father brought with him. It felt like a dream or like one of those soft beds he would always see advertised on the TV. He knew something was wrong but he didn’t care.
He welcomed the brief calmness that came after.
At only five years old, Minoru Mineta had welcomed the dangerous world of panic attacks, and boy does he have a story to tell.