"Argh," a boy groaned with a long deep sigh, as he let the back of his neck curl around the top of the chair he was sitting on. "I hate school work. And having a headache sure doesn't help." His eyes moved from the computer screen he had been looking at around the abandoned dining room where he had been working. The only sound he could hear was from the television in the other room. It had been a while since his siblings had gone to bed, but sometimes they would forget about that the second the words bedtime were said to go cuddle with mom, though most of the time he didn't mind because it actually helped him concentrate sometimes.
The boy let out another gusty sigh before letting his body collapse once more into the wooden chair he was sitting on. As he stared at the ceiling he thought back to earlier that day at school. He had gone to show his friend Jay one of the models he printed from the 3D printer out of plastic. It was of a dagger he designed and since Jay had been the one to teach him about the software to model it he thought he should be one of the first ones to see the finished project. He was impressed and asked where he had come up with the design, which he happily obliged telling him was from a story that he had been writing. In it the dagger was wielded by a prince whose dad was an assassin and it was supposed to be his weapon that he would come to be known by. They then got off topic about different kinds of poetic and literary analogy that was shown in various types of media from books to film.
Jay then told him about one of his favorite shows called Bleach. From what Jay had told him Bleach was riddled with poetic analogy and while the boy had never been a fan of anime he trusted Jay and while he knew little of this world as to not spoil the story it absolutely fascinated him. A world where a young boy had the ability to see spirits and was thrust into the duty of protecting them made him feel giddy.
Ever since his health had taken a turn for the worst six years ago the boy had always admired heroes. When he was in the hospital he got his first copy of The Legend of Zelda and that sparked his love for heroes that would carry him through his middle school years all the way to this day in his last year of high school. Those were some of the toughest and most painful years of his life. Even now he still struggles with the idea he may not wake up the next day. But as long as there was some hero to fight alongside him he could always walk forward and continue to fight back against his deteriorating condition.
"Ichigo Kurosaki," said the boy remembering the name of the character his friend had praised so highly. The boy raised his head and looked back at the computer screen that he had been glued to for hours attempting to finish the mountains of reading he had to get through, his eyes drifting to the clock on the screen.
"Dang it's really 11:57. That sucks," he said to himself. "I was hoping I could maybe see how good this Bleach series really is." The boy sighed as he closed the laptop quietly. He rubbed his temples attempting to quell the furious headache as he stood up and walked into the living room. His eyes searched the room for the small remote to shut-off the TV, finally spotting it on the armrest of the loveseat not too far away. He retrieved it and pressed the power button shutting down the machine. He then moved to place the remote back onto the couch only to hesitate.
He was all alone. What if he turned it on and watched just the first episode of Bleach. Jay recommended it telling him it was one of the best shows he ever watched. What could it be like? What kind of world had this writer created that absolutely enthralled his friend? He wanted to find out. He wanted to lose his mind in the incredible world. Watch these characters, their laughs, their cries, their hardships, he wanted to feel what these characters felt after all these years of living with his ailment forcibly distancing him from the world. He wanted to live through these characters and experience what it was like to live like a hero. Some selfless person who would fight and protect everyone. Someone who could fight, unlike him.
But before he could even attempt to, his head flared making him drop the remote and clutch it in pain. Dang it. Why him? Why did it have to be him who suffered like this while the world continued to dash forward around him. Why couldn't he be more like the heroes he read? Like Ichigo? Someone who was capable of inspiring even the weakest of people like him to fight.
He groaned as he staggered over to the light switch, flipping off the lights and stumbling up the stairs to his room. His head felt awful like a helmet was latched onto his head cutting open his skull. "Damn it," he mumbled to himself as he curled into a ball, hands clutching onto his head. "Why do I have to suffer through this pain? Why couldn't I have been born stronger? Born like Link and Ichigo? Capable of fighting off monsters and villains? Why couldn't I be like them?"
He shut his eyes, trying to expel the pain from his head by sheer will. "W–Why?" he asked, hot tears forming in his eyes from the growing pain in his head as he lay there paralyzed by pain, "Why did I have to be like this? Why couldn't I just live happily?"
His breathing became labored under the extreme pain from his head. He tried to open his eyes hoping to see something that might ease his suffering, but all he saw was the blurry vision of his room through his tears. He tried to call out to his siblings but the words got caught in his throat as the pain grew more and more unbearable. He wondered why this fate was given to him. His mind drifted to the countless heroes he had grown to idolize, to Frodo and Bilbo Baggins, to Link and Zelda, to the name of the one man he wanted to know about. The hero whom his friend adored so much? He wondered who this hero was, what the world he was born in looked like.
"I…I wish," he choked out, "I was a…hero."