Akuba stands from his desk when the teacher says his name. He has a calm, half-lidded expression. Still standing in the aisle of desks, he turns his palm towards the front of the room, and with a sudden jerk of motion is pulled off his feet.
He catches his balance on one foot, directly in front of the board. His dreadlocks are still bouncing from inertia when he puts a hand back in his pocket again, and picks the marker up with his left hand.
He writes his name in katakana, and points to the part spelling Akuba.
"This is my personal name. In my culture, we use personal names freely, and I ask you do the same for me here while I try to use your customs for you."
He speaks confidently, with a distinct accent, but one that seems to have a very similar use of vowels as Japanese does in its mora. Every few sentences, there's a brief, silent pause while he tries to remember vocabulary, and then he goes smoothly on.
He smiles a bit self-effacingly before speaking again.
"If you went around calling me Ohene this, Ohene that, you would remind me of my mother being angry, so don't do that."
He taps on the board a couple times. "It's a funny coincidence that Akuba is a Japanese word as well. But I am no witch. Where I'm from, it simply means I am a son born on a Wednesday." There are other associations beyond the literal, but why would it be important to these people?
Akuba flips the marker into the air idly while he continues talking. Near the end, it suddenly halts mid-rise, then springs unnaturally back into his grip.
"I notice that here the way our Meta Abilities - our Quirks - are talked about is very different. There were a lot of new forms to fill out," he adds with a chuckle in his voice. "It is not a short thing to explain, as so many of you have. To be polite, I'll try my best though.
"Imagine an invisible web, like a spider's web. It is not a real web, so don't worry, this is only a metaphor. I can climb the web, which is always all around me; I can fling about its strands; I feel when it shakes." In demonstration, he raises a hand, and is drawn slowly towards the ceiling. His legs dangle, but his arm is taut. "For the benefit of the Japanese Hero Commission, it is recorded as Anansi's Webs, in honor of very popular folk tales where I'm from."
The tension releases. He lands with a cat's silent grace and gives the class a half bow.
"My hobbies are music and sports. If you would like to show me what Kyoto means to you, I will be glad to see it. When I leave in a few years, I'd like that time to have been filled with good memories and better friends."
What is a hero to you? What drives you to be a hero? Are there any heroes that you look up to? If not, what are your criticisms of the world of heroes?
This idea is not really the same one we have at home. There, a hero belongs to the people, not to themselves or to a company. So, to me, a hero is somebody who lives for the good of their entire community, and should be willing to die for them too.
How do you feel about certain homeroom teachers taking five minute smoke breaks?
That's a great idea! I'll do it, too. What do you think, is a pack a day a good goal for a complete beginner like me? Hey, until I can find someone to buy cigarettes for me, I'll be asking to share some of yours. Don't be stingy, okay, teacher?
Which of your fellow classmates do you think you'll get along with the best, and which do you think the worst? Don't forget why! This will not change your seating arrangement.
While I think I should try to get along with everyone, since it seems we are all here for the same reason, it is true that some will be easier to get along with than others. The other international students, I expect, will be easy to unite with in our shared experience as outsiders - though I have nothing but gratitude towards my host country.
I would like to speak with you about a classmate after the school day is done. This is probably just an issue of culture shock, but to help me navigate such things is your role, correct?
How do you feel about your quirk? Do you enjoy using it? Do you dislike it? Is there anything about it you would change? What about fighting? How do you feel about fighting? With or without your quirk? How does it make you feel to engage in fisticuffs with another being?
I don't want to play into any biases, but yes I have fought before. To do it without a Quirk, though? It is not a separate thing from me. It is me, it is made of my body. It is like asking have I ever fought without arms. I could be trained to do so, but why? All of me is here, so all of me should be used, and I should give it my all.
I get no joy from "engaging in fisticuffs" with strangers and innocents. Even from warrior to warrior there is a pity to it and a regret it couldn't be avoided. Peace is the most important thing, but then again, there are more kinds of violence than the simple kind that involves bodies and force. So a hero should be wary that complacency and indignity is not being renamed peace.
As for my Quirk, it suits me well. If it were different, I would not be myself, I would be someone else. Even with the same family, same face, same name, I would be a different person. So it's not a meaningful question, I think.
If you were to schedule your perfect day tomorrow, what would it look like?
I sleep however long I like, and feast on a dozen dishes from my memories. I get to play sakkā with good friends, but naturally my team wins and I make a brilliant goal. Then I enjoy swinging and climbing through the city, learning of its heart and its secrets. No one is hurt and no one is scared.
What is your most cherished memory? Did you share it with others? Or was it in a moment of quiet introspection? How did it affect you as a person? Is it painful to look back on now?
There was a time, and I won't go into it too deeply here, where I had to make a very important decision about my future. I remember the experience of that so clearly, it is like I can see it from every angle at once, even those outside of my own eyes.
I remember the direction the wind blew. I remember the sand changed the color of my feet. I remember how my sandals were almost fallen off my toes, and how my soul was so weighed down that I did not want to move any more than what was needed to take my next breath.
I was sitting on a sea-wall and looking beyond the beach at the Gulf of Guinea. There were no seabirds, and no people, so all I heard was the sounds of the waves and the wind. My thoughts were louder. Teacher, it felt like my chest had been hollowed out like a gourd. I then tried to fill it up with everyone I worried over and everyone I missed, but it was hard because I had to displace pain to do it.
This may seem like a sad memory, not a cherished one. Not so. That was like the dark night at the start of dawn. This moment is when I looked at all the people I could become in the future, and I brushed them all aside to choose a single path. That is the moment where I gave myself to the people and became a hero.
All this? It is just to make me a better one.