Maybe that’s a bit rude, but regardless, the doctors called it bipolarism. His mother, to put it simply, was a little sick in the head. Not because of the thugs, but because of his beloved mother. Of course, the injuries happened regardless.
He could dodge, too, and so it wasn’t very long before his reflexes developed into something actually respectable, believe it or not. He was fast, not enough to stand out from the crowd during gym, but enough that he could run when he needed to. It meant it wasn’t hard slipping out of sticky situations. But being so tiny had its perks, surprisingly enough. Occasionally he’d get held up no matter what he did to avoid the tormentors. Which is how, at the age of eight years old, reconnaissance became a very natural part of his daily routine. The solution was to just bring extras, like a pack of pencils, a spare pen, a box of crayons, you get the idea. He realized that the kids only stole things they could get away with stealing a pen or pencil, some pages from his notebook, the crayon he was using, et cetera. Not to mention he started arriving far earlier than the other kids so no one would get the chance to graffiti his desk.
He’d do the same thing for his own school too, coming and going to certain places at certain times of day, avoiding those who took advantage of the fact that he was small and weak. Disgusting, he was aware, but that’s beside the point. Dark alleyways, rooftops, and even sometimes he’d crawl into the sewers if he was desperate enough. He’d map out routes to avoid the middle schoolers, using a variety of shortcuts that a third grader probably shouldn’t know about. Occasionally his stuff would get stolen, or graffiti would be left on his desk. The girls would talk behind his back, the boys would throw their crap at him. Kids would throw him side comments whenever he was called up to read. In class, it was mostly elementary school bullying. Bruises and cuts were nothing new, every single day. Of course, it was never severe enough to tell a teacher, who only cared enough if Nagisa showed up with broken bones or something. Thugs from the nearby middle school would cut him off on his way home, and beat him into the dirt. His whole life had kind of been one big training session.Īs a kid, having a waifish build and girly looks was bad enough, but Nagisa also happened to be quirkless.Īnd so, he was a bully magnet. Road to Nowhere Discord Recs, Assassination classroom - Yusei Matsui, A Collection of Beloved Inserts, Мои_любимые_работы😉, Fanfic_Recs_AssasinationClassroom, Long Fics to Binge Stats: Published: Updated: Words: 139125 Chapters: 29/? Comments: 319 Kudos: 1695 Bookmarks: 428 Hits: 42834 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia.
0 kommentar(er)
