Journalistic Integrity (Kid Question, Reference to Orochi)
Deckard Thorpe's Diary, Page 1
[Date: ****, First Semester, Sophomore Year (which I've been told isn't really a concept in Japan but a second year is a second year damnit)]
They say journaling is good for your mental health. I think they say a lot of things that aren't true, I think they might be a moron, but here I am anyway, scribbling away. Maybe I just like the sound of pen on paper. Or maybe I'm trying to convince myself that unloading all my thoughts into this diary will somehow make me less neurotic. Truthfully, It feels nice to be able to write how I'm feeling, my Japanese isn't conducive (there are multiple eraser marks here signaling Thorpe's difficulty spelling "conducive") to what one might consider...fully conversational?
I’m not sure what compelled me to start writing an autobiography in here, but I guess if I ever become a famous hero, this might be worth something. Not that fame or money really matters. To whom much is given, much is expected, right? And thanks to Dad’s position and Mom’s brains, I’ve been given a lot. Too much, maybe. What I’m saying is, if this diary ends up just being kindling for my tiny apartment stove ten years from now, I won’t be complete surprised. But hey, optimism, right? Heroes are supposed to be optimistic. Lets call this Chapter One: The Kid behind the Question. Heh heh heh. I crack myself up. Wait until I debut my hero name: "Man Mystery" after I graduate--my genius, and ability to reference my own life, truly is frightening.
Anyways, my biography. I'm Deckard Thorpe, alias "Kid Question" the titular sidekick/apprentice of T.B.D. , and I'm sixteen. I am a sophomore, Japanese conceptions be damned, and I'm a pro-hero hopeful. Also, more commonly to my classmates, I'm the American transfer student, which often gives me more attention then I would want, but I’m not here to fit in. I’m here for one reason: Dad.
He’s stationed in Yokosuka—an admiral in the U.S. Navy. And no, that’s not as glamorous as it sounds. Mostly it means he’s a ghost who pops in every now and then to remind me to eat my vegetables and never settle for anything less than greatness. I think I’ve spent more time on FaceTime with him in the past five years than in the same room.
When I got into a hero school back in California—Pacific Pro Hero Academy—he was proud. Mom was thrilled. It was a good school, maybe even better than my current school in some areas. But being there felt... hollow. Dad was still thousands of miles away, and I couldn’t stand the thought of spending three more years barely seeing him. So, when the transfer opportunity came up, I jumped on it.
Mom wasn’t happy. She said I was throwing away a perfectly good education, a perfectly good life. Maybe she was right. But what’s the point of having everything if the people you care about aren’t there to share it with you?
So here I am. In Japan. At Another Hero High School. The best hero school in the world (the teachers tell me). And believe me, it doesn’t let you forget it. The curriculum is brutal. The training is intense. The competition? Out of this world. These kids don’t just want to be heroes—they were born to be heroes. Some days, I feel like an impostor just standing next to them. What I care about is proving to myself that I deserve to be here. Dad always says that leadership is about earning respect, not demanding it. I think the same applies to hero work. Just because I’ve got a quirk, a uniform, and a fancy school logo on my backpack doesn’t mean I’ve earned the right to be called a hero.
Sometimes I wonder if I’m doing this for the wrong reasons. Am I here to be a hero, or am I here to prove something to Dad? To show him that I’m capable? To make up for all the time we’ve lost?
But then I remind myself: even if my motivations are messy, the results matter more. If I can save people, protect them, make their lives better—then isn’t that what counts?
I guess I should talk about my quirk: [SWAP-MEET]. I'd like to think its flashy, the name at least. I can swap people, places, whatever, with anything I can see and point at. The downside of my quirk is that I always need to be thinking three to four to five moves ahead to make the most out of it. Point, swap, reposition, recalculate, repeat. Its like playing chess except I'm both the pieces and the player at the same time. I need a lot of precision to make it work, and even then, it's exhausting. Knowing which kind of explosive to drop or swap for maximum efficiency, when to use my glove, where to shoot a pellet to reposition myself or others all takes up very valuable time in situations where thinking can often get you hurt or killed. Meanwhile, I've heard of some people using swords to fly or even this one chick who can turn herself into a fucking hydra. Seriously, bro, what the fuck.
Teachers say I have potential and they better start saying that more considering my good grades. I spend so much time in the support workshop that they might as well put my desk there. It's a necessity to work on the gadgets that make my quirk as annoying, and effective in combat or while doing hero work or sparring. Plus, the support kids don't stare at me like I grew a second head when I stumble over verb conjugations--we have a sort of nerdy bond, at least I hope.
It's not all bad, though. My classmates are cool. Well, most of them. I think they're still figuring me out, and to be honest, I'm figuring them out too. Sometimes I wonder what they'd say to me if they could read this.
I'm running out of pages for today. If nothing else, this journal is good for one thing: I'm still a person even if half this country can't understand the things I say--It does get pretty lonely. But! I'm having a good time at school, my Japanese is getting better day by day and I do really enjoy the classwork.
Here's to another day,
Thorpe.
Thank you for reading! I've been nose deep in the book "Dracula" as of recent and I've taken an appreciation towards Stoker's use of journal entries, letters, and news articles to convey a narrative. I'm not caught up at all with any of the other MHA work so apologises if anything is incongruent with other anon's works. Thank you again.