Rewind

Here's my submission for Entropy's Immortality prompt. I'm not super used to writing first person, but I think this came out pretty good considering.

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Characters: Eri (POV)

Time Taken: 3ish hours

Word Count: 707

Tags: #ENTStarTrails

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The thing about being a star is that everyone comments on your appearance. What you pull off well. What you don’t. The comments of pity when you age. As a teenager, it was easy to think that stuff was irrelevant to me. Everyone wants to hit 18, you know? Become an adult. Be taken seriously. Start working on their career.

In my case, I’d always wanted to be a musician. That concert all those years ago had been the first time I’d learnt what fun felt like; sitting on someone’s shoulders, watching the class perform, and seeing the special effects everyone’s Quirks produced remains a treasured memory. And that girl. At the time, I’d known nothing about her. But as I grew up and replayed that memory in my head, she stood out more and more. “A musician like Earphone Jack” quickly became my answer to the question “what do you want to be when you grow up?”

I was lucky to have connections to my idol. The ability to learn guitar and eventually perform together. Several heroes were eager to recommend me to U.A.’s Hero Course when I grew old enough. I wasn’t sure I wanted to be a Hero, but how could I refuse? My Quirk could be really useful to people. I’d known that since the day I was rescued. Plus the publicity could help my career as a musician too. So it was a win-win. At least, that’s what I thought at first. In hindsight, going to U.A. may have been the start of my downfall.

I don’t exactly how old I was when I realized exactly what my Quirk could do to me. Maybe….17? 18? It must have been around then. Normal people would the exact date when they almost died. For Hero students? Well, that’s just a typical Tuesday. A typical Tuesday except for the fact that my Quirk activated by itself, rewinding my injury until nothing was left, then stopping. Leaving me just…fine. Surprised. But fine. Like nothing had been wrong to begin with. At first, it’d been nice knowing that I have that failsafe. Knowing that Hero work couldn’t kill me made it a lot easier to convince a record label that I wasn’t a liability once I graduated and was trying to make a name for myself. And for a while, that was fine.

Until I hit my mid twenties and got that idea in my head.

The thing no one prepares you for is younger talent coming in. Talent whose bodies aren’t as battered from years of hero work. Talents who don’t see the starts of wrinkles and smile lines staring back at them when they look in the mirror. And when you’re in the face of the public all the time? It’s inevitable that you’ll eventually be compared to them. I’d never felt old back then until the comments started rolling in telling me so. And at some point, I started to believe them.

I wished I could turn back the clock, be “young” and “pretty” and “relevant” again. But that’s the beauty and horror of my Quirk.

It rewinds people.

My record company was more than happy to market an “ever-youthful, immortal girl.” The Hero Commission, too, seemed thankful to have a hero who would never die. The comments, mostly, stopped since then. And the ones that haven’t are just saying the same thing that I’ve been thinking. That I should have never done this. That I should stop doing it. But honestly, I don’t even know how long I’ve been in my early twenties anymore.

I used to enjoy my patrols and the small handshake events I’d hold whenever I was selling a new album. I used to know everyone who was a dedicated fan by name. Even as they grew older and I stayed the same, I could put their face to a name that I’ve known for years. As new fans came, I came to know them too. Over and over, as my fans lived and died and I stayed the same. But as I step on the stage for tonight’s concert, I wonder:

When did I stop recognizing even a single face in the crowd?