MfChibisuke

Maybe it’s an unpopular opinion, or maybe not, but I’ve always thought My Hero Academia had the potential to be legendary, not just good. It had everything it needed to go beyond the usual superhero shōnen: a world where quirks don’t just define your powers, but your worth as a person; a society that measures heroism through fame and popularity; and a protagonist with no power who still shows what it really means to be a hero. That setup was brilliant.

That early scene of Deku crying after being told he’s quirkless, it hit me hard. It’s still one of the most powerful and heartbreaking moments in the whole series, at least for me. At that point, My Hero Academia felt like a story with real heart, about hope even when everything feels hopeless.

But as time went on, I think the series lost a lot of that emotional depth. It started feeling less like a story with meaning and more like a marketing thing, more flashy fights, more side characters, more “iconic moments,” but fewer scenes that actually meant something. And that’s the sad part: the action was never the problem, it’s that the message got lost in all the spectacle. The story stopped asking why we fight and started focusing only on how cool the fight looks.

And I think that shift showed a pattern that got kind of repetitive: friendship solves everything, optimism solves everything, and the stronger your quirk is, the more valuable you are. It’s a shame because that goes against the message it started with. Instead of showing real emotional or moral consequences, most conflicts end up being solved through power or speeches about hope, and that slowly drains the story’s impact.

At least for me, My Hero Academia always seemed scared of consequences and accountability, especially death. For a world constantly at war, barely anyone ever dies. That is actually, something Jujutsu Kaisen has no problem with (wink wink, for those that already read it)... but where Jujutsu overkills, My Hero Academia kind of overprotects. And that makes everything feel oddly safe, almost too clean (does that meke sense??). I think All Might is a great example of this. And yes, I’ll say it: I wish All Might had died. Not out of cruelty, but because it would’ve given Deku the space to truly grow. All Might’s presence, while inspiring, always kept Deku in his shadow. If he had fallen during his final battle, that loss could’ve been Deku’s defining moment, the moment he finally stood alone as the new symbol of peace. But again, the series seemed too scared to take that risk.

And that’s where My Hero Academia loses something for me. Another example is how it tries to make us understand its villains, but often stops at justifying them instead of holding them accountable. It’s a fine line, but one that really matters. Demon Slayer, for instance, does this beautifully. You understand why the demons became who they are, you even feel for them, but they still face their end. There’s dignity in that, not erasure. That’s the kind of emotional honesty I wish My Hero Academia had dared to go for.

I felt like the pacing in general became too rushed; there was no room for the story or the emotions to breathe. Even Deku’s lone arc, when he isolates himself, could’ve easily been expanded into an entire season. It could’ve been a moment for everyone at U.A. to truly understand what it means to be a hero, not just in battle, but as Midoriya’s friends, as kids thrown into a war they never asked for. That whole section had the potential to carry so much emotional weight, but it felt rushed, like we barely got to sit with any of it.

And then there’s Deku’s ending. I’m still torn about it. From the very beginning, he represented the idea that you don’t need a quirk to be a hero, that true heroism comes from heart, not strength. So for me, there were always two possible endings. One where he truly becomes the new Symbol of Peace, not just the next All Might, but something beyond that, the embodiment of hope itself. And the other, more poetic one, where he loses his quirk, goes back to being powerless, yet is no longer the same boy who once cried for being “worthless.” The hero who finds strength in spirit, not power.

And I know, I know he did become quirkless, but hear me out. They tell him he can still be a hero if he uses this new technology or gear that acts as a substitute for a quirk. They bring him back into action, which for me kind of goes against that original message. I would’ve loved to see him stay as a symbol, not as a fighter, but as living proof of what being a hero really means, beyond quirks, beyond strength. The way he began. The hero he always was. That would’ve been such a powerful ending.

In the end, My Hero Academia is a series that came so close to greatness. It built an amazing world, gave us unforgettable characters, and had moments that really hit deep. But it never fully embraced the emotional weight it promised. Instead of diving into tragedy, loss, and the messiness of being human, it chose the safer route, the “everything’s gonna be okay” route.

And maybe that’s why I kind of feel it as a tragedy in itself (well, maybe tragedy is a little dramatic, but you get the point). It could’ve been so much more. It could’ve been a story we’d still be talking about decades from now, not just for its fights, but for its heart. And we probably will still talk about it for decades, but at least for me, it just leaves you wondering: what if...

JUST MY OPINION, I STILL LOVE THE SERIES AND I LOVE MIDORIYA <3

P.S. Something I’ll always give My Hero Academia credit for, and something I’ll always personally love, is how they wrote Todoroki. He’s honestly the kind of character I imagined the whole series could’ve revolved around: great quirk, incredible backstory, and a development arc that actually breathes. His growth feels organic, painful, and hopeful all at once. In many ways, he carries the emotional weight that I thought every main and side character, even the villains, would eventually get. And honestly, I think Todoroki embodies the message My Hero Academia started with, the real heart of what it means to be a hero, beyond any quirk, which he greatly suffers from.

Something I really love about Wind Breaker is that beyond all the fights, what truly makes you think is how every character carries their own kind of loneliness. And with everything they’ve shown lately about Momijikawa —and the little we know about Sakura’s past— I’ve been thinking about it a lot.

Momijikawa’s story is really tough. First, he lost his grandfather, then his parents, and now his grandmother is sick and suffering from dementia. It’s heartbreaking to see how little by little, his whole world has fallen apart. But at the same time —and as harsh as it sounds— that also means he had people who loved him deeply. He had a family. He knew what it felt like to be loved. Grief hurts so much precisely because you loved and were loved in return, and that’s something that, even though it hurts, still leaves a kind of warmth… a certainty.

And that’s where I start thinking about Sakura. We still don’t know his full backstory, but everything points to the fact that he never had anyone. He was rejected, criticized, isolated —and yet he never became a bad person. He’s always been someone who protects others, who faces things on his own, without knowing what it’s like to have someone waiting for him or caring for him. And I don’t know, that just breaks my heart. Because if grief is painful, the total absence of love is painful too—just in a different way. (I’d even say it’s a deeper kind of pain because it's like a constant reminder that you “don’t deserve to be loved.”) It’s like growing up with a void you don’t even know how to fill, because you never had a reference for what affection feels like.

That’s why I find it so beautiful (and at the same time, so sad) how the manga slowly shows Sakura trying to learn what love actually means —even though he’s never experienced it. Even if it scares him, even if he doesn’t know how, he still tries. He’s the kind of character that makes you wonder, “how can someone be this good when they’ve never had anyone?”

And honestly, what’s killing me right now is that everyone in the manga already knows Sakura’s past except us . I’m dying to find out. But I love how all the other characters can relate to him in their own ways, because even without knowing the full story, we all see it: Sakura has always been alone. His whole life. And yet, he’s still kind, still strong.

That’s why I’m so moved that he’s the one helping Momijikawa now —because no one understands loneliness better than someone who’s lived it their entire life. I don’t know if this arc will finally reveal Sakura’s full backstory, or if they’ll keep giving us little pieces here and there (I honestly thought we’d learn it with Suo… maybe we still will). But one thing’s for sure: every single chapter leaves me with my heart in my hands.