Ryo

A dimly lit room, the walls battered and worn, revealing the neglect that mirrored the harsh reality of the household. Dust motes drifted lazily through the beams of fading sunlight that barely managed to squeeze through the small, grimy windows.

The air was heavy, suffused with the scent of stale air and despair.

in the corner of this squalid sat a small, frail boy, his tiny frame trembled as he tried to make himself smaller, hoping to disappear from the hard world around him.

Ryo, just four years old, had pale skin that seemed almost translucent under the dim light, marred by fresh bruises and old scars that told the story of his young life's suffering.

His black hair, unruly and unkempt, fell in front of his face, hiding the most striking feature about him–– his eyes.

Ryo's eyes were unlike anything seen before: They were a mesmerizing blend of cosmic silver, like the shimmering light of distant stars captured within his gaze. 

The irises swirled with patterns reminiscent of galaxies, each tiny point of light within them twinkled like a star against the infinite void of space.

These eyes were a mystery, a source of awe and wonder, but to his parents, they were nothing more than a curse–– a constant reminder of something they couldn't understand or control.

Ryo sat huddled in the corner, his small hands covering his head in a futile attempt to shield himself from the blows raining down upon him.

His parents driven by their irrational hatred and disgust for their son, struck him relentlessly.

Each strike echoed through the room with a sickening thud, a cruel symphony of pain that filled Ryo's world.

"Stop! Please... stop..." Ryo's voice was a pitiful whisper, barely audible between his sobs. 

But his pleas fell on deaf ears, the only response he received being the cold, unfeeling continuation of their assault.

"Move! Please, move away!" He begged again, his voice breaking as he tried to command his parents to stop, an instinctive attempt to defend himself. But they didn't listen–– they couldn't. They simply saw him as an abomination, an ugly blemish on their lives.

"Those eyes... disgusting," His mother hissed through clenched teeth, her face contorted with floating as she struck him again.

"You're hideous!" His father muttered, his voice dripping with disdain as he delivered another blow.

For what felt like hours, they continued their relentless barrage, their anger and disgust manifesting in every strike, every cruel word. Ryo's small body could no longer endure; he crumpled to the floor, his tiny hands clutching his sides as he tried to contain the pain that threatened to overwhelm him. His breathing became ragged, each breath a struggle, as his vision blurred with tears and exhaustion.

He wanted to scream, to cry out for help, but the fear of drawing more attention to himself kept him silent. Instead, he buried his face in his arms, trying to muffle his sobs as he crouched down, his body trembling from the pain and fear. The words of his parents echoed in his mind, cruel and unforgiving, as he silently cried, hoping they wouldn't hear him from the next room.

Finally, his body gave out, and he fainted, collapsing into unconsciousness, his small form lying lifeless on the cold, hard floor. The last thing he felt was the throbbing pain from the countless wounds inflicted upon him and the cold, bitter taste of despair that lingered in his heart.

Time passed in a blur. When Ryo finally stirred, it was the blaring sound of the television that roused him. Groggy and in pain, he slowly opened his eyes, his vision hazy as he tried to make sense of his surroundings. The familiar ache from his wounds pulsed through his body, but curiosity drove him to move.

With a wince, Ryo forced himself to sit up, his small hands trembling as he pushed against the floor. Every movement was agony, but something in the other room called to him, pulling him forward despite the pain. Slowly, he crawled towards the living room, each step a painful reminder of the beatings he had endured.

When he reached the living room, he saw the noise source—a television, flickering with an old clip of a news broadcast. Never having been allowed to watch anything before, Ryo stared in wide-eyed wonder at the images on the screen.

The clip was of a disaster, the remnants of destruction visible in the background. But what caught Ryo's attention was the figure at the center of the screen—a tall, imposing man with a broad smile and a presence that seemed to radiate hope. All Might, the Number One Hero, stood amidst the chaos, saving lives with a strength and confidence that left Ryo awestruck.

"Are you seeing this?!" one of the civilians on the screen exclaimed, their voice filled with awe. "He's already saved a hundred people! Wow! And it's only been ten minutes so far!"

"And he's smiling!" another added, disbelief coloring their tone.

Ryo's heart swelled as he watched the hero in action, his pain momentarily forgotten. His galaxy-like eyes sparkled with a newfound light, a glimmer of hope that had been absent for so long. The man on the screen was everything Ryo had never known—a symbol of strength, kindness, and unwavering courage.

"I want to be like him…" Ryo whispered, his voice filled with a quiet determination as he continued to watch, completely entranced.

On the screen, All Might struck a pose, his grin wide and infectious as he declared, "Fear not! Why, you ask? Because… I am here!"

For the first time in his short life, Ryo smiled—a small, fragile smile that held the promise of something more. But his solace was brutally interrupted when the television abruptly clicked off, plunging the room into silence.

Ryo's heart sank as he felt a cold hand grip his shoulder, turning him around to face his mother, who glared down at him with fury in her eyes.

"Who told you, you could watch anything, huh?!" she snarled, her voice sharp and venomous.

Ryo's smile faded as fear took hold once more. "I-I'm sorry… I didn't mean to…" he stammered, but his mother wasn't interested in his apologies.

With a harsh yank, she dragged him back to his empty room, her grip unrelenting. Ryo's pleas for forgiveness fell on deaf ears as she threw him to the floor, her rage erupting once more. The beatings resumed, more intense and brutal than before, as Ryo curled into a ball, trying to shield himself from the blows.

"You think a hero's going to come save you?!" she screamed, her voice filled with contempt. "No one's coming for you! You're nothing but a worthless, disgusting freak!"

Ryo's mind spiraled into darkness as he absorbed her words, each one striking deeper than any physical blow. The hope that had briefly flickered to life within him was snuffed out, replaced by a cold, crushing despair. His mother's words echoed in his mind, a cruel reminder of the harsh reality he lived in.

Maybe she was right. Maybe he wasn't worth saving. Maybe no hero would ever come for him.

As the pain and exhaustion became too much to bear, Ryo's thoughts began to blur, his consciousness slipping away once more. But even as he fell into the void of unconsciousness, a small part of him clung to the image of All Might, the hero who had shown him that there could be something more, something better.