MHA To love a hero (pt.2)
You’ve always believed that heroism is forged in impact, in noise, in battle, in sheer power. That strength is measured in strikes, in muscles, in extraordinary quirks, not in hands that tremble while tending to a wound.
And yet, your quirk whispers a different truth. A truth few notice, and even fewer truly understand.
As you grow up among hallways full of expectations, reports to be rewritten, and glances you dare not interpret, you discover that being a hero is not a matter of spectacle. It is a deliberate choice, sometimes a lonely one. And it is a choice that consumes you, yet at the same time reveals who you truly are.
And perhaps, in the midst of it all, there is someone who truly sees you. Someone who doesn’t ask you to fight… but simply to be there.
This is your story, and no one else’s. The story of how you learned that some battles aren’t won by striking, but by staying.
And that even the gentlest hands can change a destiny.