Impromptu Interview

“In conclusion, I want to be a hero because I want to become a hero.”

Christopher looked at that last line of his paper. “I really hate this.”

He sat hunched over his desk, reams of loose paper strewn about his room. For a 500-word minimum essay he’d had to sink a lot into this. Christopher sighed as he looked over the paper. Aside from the ending it was fine. Maybe not his best work, but good enough for an A-. The ending could make up the difference. This ending about becoming a hero kindof came out of left field. What was he building up to? What did HE actually want to say.

Christopher stifled a yawn and looked at the clock on his desk, recently moved from his bedside. Bold red numerals declared the time was 2:40am. Not the worst bed time he’d ever had and this would keep for at least one more day.

Yet he didn’t get up. Closing his eyes Christopher thought back to his real motivation. To prove to himself that being a hero was worth what it had cost him. He didn’t feel like he was able to share that. But, there was a truth in there he could share. Christopher was certain of it.

Picking up his pen again, he began to write.

“Being a hero is often thought of as a career. Like doctors or lawyers, heroes go to school, work as an apprentice and finally set up their own practice. Yet if that’s all there was to it, being a hero would be a much more common career. Hero entrance exams are quite a filter, it’s true. Yet even the vast majority of those who make it through the exams end up quitting within 5 years of their pro debut. Why is that?

“As previously stated in this paper, a hero must not only have a quirk usable in whatever his chosen profession is, he must also have the will to use it. The ability to sacrifice even their sleep to public safety. The qualities of a hero are a rare thing indeed. You must have the adaptability of a paramedic, the education of a lawyer and the courage of a fire fighter. What would you call one with all those qualities but refused to be a hero? Coward, selfish, worse?

“I would accept all those labels until I’ve proven I can’t hack it as a pro hero. Why do I want to be a hero? Because I can be one.”

Christopher rocked his head back and forth as he read that conclusion again. Better. Passable at the very least, he’d at least get Rosethorn off his back about the first test. Just as he was about to pack up his paper for tomorrow, a thought struck him. Then he blanched. Holding the paper in front of him he carefully counted out the words. This was a 1000-word max assignment. He was at 1190 now.

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu—”

################################################

Christopher sat in a dark room, his precious plain black notebook held on his lap. His mother’s fountain pen hovered above its pages. Across from him was… a figure who was more absence than presence. Christopher didn’t find anything alarming in the figure’s appearance or lack thereof. He wasn’t here to be scared, he was here to interview.

“Why’d you become a hero?” Christopher asked.

“Because it’s fun!” An energetic feminine voice answered.

“That’s a really stupid reason.” Christopher observed.

“Rude!” The figure shouted in a high pitched laugh.

“There wasn’t a defining moment or struggle?”

“No, not really. I applied to UA, aced the entrance exam. And I’ve had a lot of fun ever since. Hell I even got to kiss some cute boys while I was at it.”

Christopher’s stomach turned.

“Including your dad, actually he was the cutest by a mile, but don’t tell him that.”

Christopher changed the subject. “What made you decide to apply to UA in the first place?”

“Uh… kindof everybody was doing it? It wasn’t deep.”

“It wasn’t cause of your strong quirk or anything like that?”

“I passed because of my quirk, but I probably would’ve applied even if all I could do was make bubbles come out of my ass.”

“There’s a visual.”

“I’m not being helpful am I?”

“No. I’m trying to figure out a way to say why I want to be a hero without saying why I want to be a hero.”

“Why don’t you just be honest?”

“Because I don’t want people to know what happens when I forget someone’s quirk.”

There was a long pause. Christopher was concerned his interviewee had left. Eventually, she announced her presence by asking a simple question. “Are you sure you know what happens?”

“Wha—”  BEEP BEEP BEEP

################################################

Christopher woke with a start. He was laying at his desk. He must’ve fallen asleep during his rewrites.  His alarm clock stubbornly blared beside him. Angrily Christopher slammed his fist on the clock’s snooze button. He grimaced as the alarm clock sputtered one last beep. The unforgiving red numerals displayed the time as 7am. He felt like he’d dreamed something important and wonderful but… he’d forgotten it as soon as this accursed thing had woke him up.

Christopher yawned as he sat up in his desk. He yanked off a sheet of loose leaf paper that had gotten stuck to his face while he slept. He looked at the paper. It was the last page of that dreaded essay. He read it quickly. His face fell.

“I think being a hero will be fun.”

Christopher furiously scratched out those last lines. What had he been thinking? He looked at the rest of it. It was more or less unchanged from the last he remembered. A very coherent A paper that was entirely original but overwhelmingly bland. The paper’s blandness was something he couldn’t quite fix, but that stupid line about fun wouldn't fix anything!

Why had he added that last line? Christopher shook his head, didn’t matter.

He packed up the paper.

Christopher left his room and went about his morning routine like did every morning. Through it all he couldn’t shake the feeling he’d forgotten something important. While stuffing his face with the last bits of his bento, Christopher looked at the calendar on the fridge. Today was Friday.

"Fun."

Christopher grimaced. Today was hero training and he'd completely forgotten about it!