On Heteromorphs & Heteromorphobia (Introduction + Terminology + Arcs I - V, Entrance Exam to Sports Festival)
Being a project to observe and document the use of the term “heteromorph,” the people described by it, and the depiction of their experiences with discrimination in My Hero Academia
OR
“No, heteromorphobia isn’t new or a late-story retcon. The non-heteromorph main characters just weren’t confronted with it for a long time, that’s all.”
Introduction
In this series of posts, I will be examining heteromorphic characters and heteromorphic discrimination chapter by chapter, arc by arc, up through the plotline coming to a head in the attack on Central Hospital. My overall aim is to demonstrate that, contrary to widespread assertions otherwise, heteromorphobia had ample groundwork laid long before it burst to the forefront in My Villain Academia. My analysis will generally fall into one of the following categories:
General observations about heteromorphs in the world: how the reader is introduced to them individually and as a group, their demographics, the language used to describe them, how they fit into the structure of professional heroism, etc.
Aspects of the series—scenes, character beats, worldbuilding details, etc.—which I believe canonically point towards heteromorphic discrimination, even before that discrimination was explicitly acknowledged.
Aspects of the series that could be read as evidence for said discrimination, but which may or may not have been intentional on the part of the author.
Discussion of how individual characters intersect, or could intersect, with this form of discrimination.
I would like to fold the Vigilantes spin-off into this analysis as well, as that series is very good at taking aspects of worldbuilding from the main series to their logical, street-level conclusions; I may also examine other extracanonical material (the data books, the movies, TUM and the novels, etc.) if I find—or have suggested to me—anything relevant to the topic. More on this as I get closer to the end of the material in the series proper.
The current plan being to end my mainline analysis with the hospital attack is largely because, at the present time, Shouji’s response to the mob seems to be the series’ last word on The Problem of Heteromorphobia. I may, however, continue beyond that point if the series circles back to the issue in a major way between now and the completion of this project.
In the meantime, join me below the jump as I lay out my thesis, explain the rationale behind the terminology used in this piece, and dive on into the canon material, from Chapter 1 up through the conclusion of the Sports Festival in Chapter 44.
The Thesis
Anti-heteromorph discrimination has been present as a background element in the series from the very beginning. However, this is obscured by the main character’s lack of awareness of it, the overlap between such discrimination and the broader dehumanization of villains, and, perhaps most crucially, the fact that the term “heteromorph,” while serviceable as a descriptor for a broad categorization of quirk types, is uselessly broad for discussing heteromorphic discrimination.
It’s very easy to say, “The idea of heteromorphs being discriminated against is a ridiculous retcon,” if one views the story as suggesting that all people with heteromorphic quirks are subject to the exact same levels of discrimination, while transformation and emitter types are never discriminated against at all, no matter how they look. This, however, is demonstrably false if one instead looks for patterns in the types of discrimination demonstrated throughout the series. The common element in heteromorphic discrimination is that it becomes drastically more likely the farther away one is from the “normal” appearance of humans prior to the Advent of the Extraordinary. This is particularly the case for those with heteromorphic quirks tied to animals or those who live in rural areas.
On Terminology
Baseline/Divergence:
“Baseline” is not a canonical term, but it is a useful one. I’ll use it to describe bodies that look more or less “normal,” with features like those humans would have had before the advent of quirks. Bakugou is baseline; so is Momo. Tokoyami and Koda are not. I’ll also sometimes use “divergence” or “divergent” in association with this concept, especially for people who have no more than one or two cosmetic differences that are not associated with an animal. Jirou’s earphone jacks or Iida’s pipes would be examples of such relatively minor divergences from “baseline.” It is, as I will argue, a significant factor in the extent of discrimination that heteromorphs face.
Igyou/Heteromorph:
The Japanese term Spinner objects to in Chapter 220 is igyou, literally meaning “fantastic; grotesque; strange-looking; suspicious-looking” per Japanese dictionary site jisho.org. It’s often appended with gata, “type,” and people who have quirks of that type labeled as igyou-gata no ningen. The Viz release translates igyou to “heteromorph,” and igyou-gata to “heteromorphic” or “heteromorphic quirk.” It’s much more clinical-sounding to an English ear than a more literal translation of igyou would be; thus, when Spinner suggests that the word is not very politically correct, the Japanese reader will have a much clearer understanding of why than the English reader.
Another thing Spinner says about igyou is that, despite the fact that it’s not a good word for formal contexts, everyone uses it day to day. However, as far as I can tell, and troublingly for fans who want to avoid using an offensive word, there is no polite alternative. We see people using the word to describe themselves, Aizawa uses it freely in discussing how his quirk affects the type in question, but we don’t get to see an academic paper or expert interview letting us know what we should say instead.
I’ve only seen two alternatives. One is buried in Vigilantes and is less “a polite alternative” and more “a mouthful of words to prevaricate around not having a polite alternative”: tokushuna taikaku no mochinushi, or, per the Viz translation, “individuals with unique bodies.” The other, used by the firebrand PLF advisor leading the hospital riot, is kotonaru katachi, which means, roughly, “differing forms.” It’s better, but still more of a descriptive phrase than a noun, and runs into the issue that something vague like “differing forms” could also apply to, for example, congenital anomalies or amputations. It also uses the same kanji as igyou, just a different reading of the characters, so it’s unclear if Spinner would find that wording just as objectionable.
It’s tricky to navigate this, too, because it’s not all 1:1 translation. Spinner doesn’t object to being called igyou while thinking that igyou-gata or igyou-gata no ningen would be fine—that is, he’s not saying he doesn’t like being called a heteromorph, but being called a heteromorphic type or a person with a heteromorphic quirk would be fine, in the way that you see debates about person-first versus identity-first language in e.g. the autistic community. It’s the word igyou/“heteromorph” itself that he dislikes.
Why? Well, the obvious answer is that the word itself, down to the kanji involved, denotes the people it’s used to describe as being strange or different from normal. Transformation-type quirks have a similar if less pronounced issue: henkei can mean “transformation” or “metamorphosis,” but it can also mean “deformity.” Emitters are the only ones who don’t have this problem at all, with hatsudou meaning simply “invocation” or “put into operation.”
When that kind of normativity is baked into the language itself, it’s impossible to even talk about without Othering the people you’re discussing.
While neither addresses the language issue specifically, Ujiko and Re-Destro both offer some useful insight on why the issue exists. Ujiko says, “With each passing generation, quirks become more mixed, more complex, more ambiguous(...).” Re-Destro, meanwhile, asks, “Isn’t it odd how society insists on conforming to the old ways of thinking while eliminating anyone who doesn’t fit the mold? Especially since we as a species have moved beyond the very notion of normal!”
My suspicion, then, is that no polite alternative exists because the concept itself is so nebulous, and talking about it—as we will see—leads to thorny, difficult-to-categorize places when people prefer to keep things nice and tidy, easy to sort and put away. This is convenient for people who are uncomfortable talking about it, since policing people about their language is a great way to shut down discussion entirely.
Indeed, I’ve seen as much in the fandom—thoughtful, well-articulated posts wholly dismissed with snotty rebukes against using the word “heteromorph” on the basis that it’s equivalent to a slur, with no further engagement on the posts’ actual content. I often see “mutant” used instead, but I don’t view that as any kind of solution, for two reasons.
Firstly, and more simply, using “mutant” creates confusion due to its overlap with the idea of quirk mutations—situations like Eri’s. Indeed, in the Japanese, while Pops uses the Japanese word for “mutation,” kanji that would normally be read as totsuzenheni,[1] the furigana show that what he's actually saying aloud is the English word, giving the reading as myuuteeshon. The word igyou is totally unrelated—it doesn’t even have any kanji in common with totsuzenhi—so I feel it’s best to not add ambiguity where none exists in the original text.
Secondly, and more irksomely, “mutant” is what the most widely available fan scanlation used as a translation for igyou. Scanlation!Spinner says it’s the word “mutant” he dislikes; it’s not dodging offense to use the scanlation version instead of the official when they’re both placed in the exact same objectionable context![2]
Pictured: me being extremely unimpressed with people who use “mutant” accusing people who use “heteromorph” of using slurs.
All that said, in the absence of any polite alternatives provided by the canon, and in the interest of not throwing out the only word we have in favor of a nonexistent nicety the story’s victims themselves have no access to, I will be using the word those victims themselves use: “heteromorph.”
For further specificity, I will use “heteromorph” to describe anyone, regardless of quirk type, with a physical form that diverges from the pre-Advent baseline, while using “heteromorphic quirk” to denote quirks of said category and those who bear them.
Categorizing Quirks & the Division of Arcs:
Usually, when I denote a quirk as a given type—emitter, transformation, heteromorphic—I’m using the English fan wiki’s classification. However, note that, while these broad quirk classifications are discussed within the series, there is no canonical source that categorizes the vast majority of the quirks we see in the series. In character sheets, data books, narrated quirk explanations or the anime’s tic of showing characters’ names and quirks on-screen, the only information given is the quirk’s name and a brief explanation of its function.
Fan wikis, however, are run by curatorial fans, who want to have that information all down neatly, so I’m sure there are whole discussions behind classifying some of the more borderline cases. I will be discussing the insufficiencies of the current system of classification, but any time I declare a quirk as being classified as a certain type, that’s based on the wiki, not the text itself.
The wiki was also my reference for the breakdown of arcs in the series. They are equally noncanonical, but convenient for the purposes of keeping this piece broken down into digestible pieces.
Let's get started.
Heteromorphs and Heteromorphobia Chronologically
The Entrance Exam Arc (Chapters 1-4)
Chapter 1:
On the very first page, we meet li’l Tsubasa, the winged boy who is implied to eventually become the Winged Noumu during the Stain arc.[3] No longer in Bakugou’s friend group by the time they’re in middle school; according to the data book, that’s just because he changed schools, but that information does come with an ominous ellipsis trail-off…
The very first villain we see is a heteromorph, yelling at heroes to go away. We’re told he’s a purse-snatcher who transformed into his large size—he maintains his base appearance even after being captured and shrinking back down to a normal size—when cornered. Called “pure evil” by Kamui Woods and while that does speak more directly to the dehumanization of villains than that of heteromorphs, it’s notable that this very first comparison between what heroes and villains look like shows such a stark difference between which one looks human and which one doesn’t.
o Kamui Woods himself is a transformation-type rather than a heteromorph-type, but he blurs the line between quirk categorizations. Even at “rest,” his limbs have a wooden appearance; he transforms their shape and size, but not their basic nature. In that sense, he has a heteromorphic body. His humanoid size and dimensions, though, as well as his mask, make him appear baseline at a casual glance. I’ll be discussing him in more depth later, but note that if you read this first confrontation in light of later reveals about heteromorphic discrimination, it’s the one who wears a mask that’s a hero.
But with Mount Lady getting the final blow, note how everyone in this picture is baseline except the literally muzzled villain.
Of twenty-four visible kids in Deku and Bakugou’s class, only two have clear-cut heteromorphic quirks. One girl has horns but no other divergent features nor other apparent power in use; the other is of the “different head” style, a boy with what looks like a pair of needle-nose pliers in place of a normal head. One other boy has gnashing, sharp teeth; it’s unclear whether they look like that all the time or whether it’s a transformation effect. The rest of the students all seem to be emitter or transformation types.
Introduction of the Sludge Villain, whose body is entirely fluid. Implied to kill those whose bodies he possesses, at least the ones he intends to fully hide himself within. We’re now two-for-two on villains being heteromorphs.
The crowd full of bystanders are all baseline:
Keep this image in mind for when we get our first crowd shot of villains.
Chapter 3+:
You can identify both Shouji and Tokoyami in this chapter, but Deku doesn’t talk to either of them, so they don’t have anything solid in the way of dialogue. Shouji does get one focus in the art, though: a shot of him from behind, typifying the information-gathering type. Nedzu first appears in silhouette but also has no speaking lines beyond a shared impressed noise with the also-silhouetted Vlad King. One or two other heteromorphs can be spotted throughout the exam, but they’re definitely fewer in number compared to the rest.
+: Others will crop up as Deku has his first day with Class 1-A and Aizawa in the following chapters; Tokoyami, befitting his eventual Number 3 placement at the Sports Festival, has his name regularly shown near the top of assorted exam/class activity rankings. Shouji’s name appears likewise in Chapter 7’s track and field test rankings.
The Quirk Apprehension Test Arc (Chapters 5-7)
Chapter 5:
Iida is, strictly speaking, the first named heteromorph in the class. There will never be any particular sign that Iida is subject to the judgement and bias that more divergent heteromorphs are.
Chapter 6:
Tsuyu is the next named heteromorph, the first one with an animal-associated quirk, and the first student whose facial features are clearly intended to be anything other than baseline human. Her quirk is not yet officially introduced, but she’s identified as a froggy type by her hopping, her long tongue, and her ribbit talk bubble.
In the same chapter that gives us our first instance of an animal-type heteromorph, we also get our first instance of animal-type name-calling:
Note the ever-stoic Shouji’s pointed lack of a response.
This is not particularly highlighted in the moment, but it will get a callback over 300 chapters later as something that warrants an apology. Note that both Sero and Mineta are themselves heteromorphs, but neither are animal-associated. This already sets up a discrepancy between what kinds of heteromorphs experience significant discrimination, even though the reader won’t get context for that until Spinner introduces us to the CRC.
The Battle Trial Arc (Chapters 8-11)
Chapter 11:
Shouji is formally introduced, name and quirk alike. Tsuyu proves to be relatively outgoing despite her demeanor, grouped with the affable Kirishima, Mina, and Sato in introducing herself to Deku after the indoor battles.
The first appearance of the League of Villains in the stinger with Shigaraki, Kurogiri and the USJ Noumu. None of them have heteromorphic quirks, as we’ll eventually find, but it’s immediately apparent that��like both of Chapter 1’s villains—they’re much more monstrous in appearance than the heroic cast. This correlation of appearance with criminal activity will continue to bear itself out throughout the series, getting more prominent and more explicit in the text as it goes along.
The U.S.J. Arc (Chapters 12-21)
Chapter 12:
Contains Ojiro’s character sheet, which notes that he always has to ask for clothing alterations when he’s shopping, which has become standard practice since the proliferation of quirks. Another profile page leading Chapter 32 will note similarly that he has a hard time sitting normally in a chair. Indeed, despite U.A. being the premier school for heroes, their accommodation seems to top out at exaggeratedly large doors; there doesn’t seem to be any accommodation in things like desks given for people with differently shaped bodies, like Ojiro’s tail or Mineta’s small stature.
It’s possible that specially made desks, like clothes alterations, could be provided upon request, but that puts the onus on the person with the need to ask. Between the people in question being teenagers and Japan’s culture of meiwaku (not causing trouble for others), that’s a pretty significant disincentivization compared to just incorporating different desk sizes into the class by default, either by having a selection available in all classes or by proactively asking students about their needs during the enrollment process.
Chapter 13:
Bakugou calls Tsuyu “frog-face,” starting a trend he will continue for a long, long time of immediately going for animal traits when he’s reaching for an insult to use against an animal-type heteromorph.
Thirteen talks about how the use of quirks is heavily restricted and monitored because, “It only takes one wrong move with an uncontrollable quirk for people to die.” The series will go on to provide all sorts of examples of conflicts that arise from this state of affairs—reduced bodily autonomy, repression of biological compulsion, quirk-based discrimination—but Thirteen doesn’t bring up any of that. As Mr. Compress will call out later, the UA kids are seldom given much in the way of opposing viewpoints, and that’s visible here, where Thirteen provides a very basic explanation of the status quo with zero historical or sociopolitical context.[4]
Chapter 14:
As was the case for Shigaraki’s chapter-ending stinger at the bar, it’s very noticeable that the group at USJ have a far higher ratio of frightening appearances in crowd scenes.
Venus fly-trap hands, paper ofuda body, three with weird heads, face-chest dude, the dude with four legs: some of them might well be transformation types rather than heteromorphs, but either way, they’re a lot creepier across the board.
First use of the term heteromorph, from one of the villains Shigaraki brings to the USJ attack. It’s followed up with Aizawa distinguishing “heteromorphic types” from “operative” and “transformative” types. As I said in the terminology section, “heteromorph” is less fraught than the Japanese term igyou, but one might guess that Caleb Cook didn’t see a discrimination plotline coming—especially since the first person to use the word is self-describing!—so went with something a bit drier.
Tsuyu provides the first example of a character’s quirk being named simply for the animal they resemble with the formal introduction of her quirk, Frog. I have to wonder somewhat about the politics of this—who chooses what to name a quirk?
Do the parents themselves do it, choosing a name and the kanji to use, and then just have to get the name approved when turning in a registration form at the local government office? Or does the clerk at said office do it after getting a description of how the quirk operates? Is there an appeals process if your choice is rejected/you don’t like what the clerk saddled your kid with?
Are heteromorphs, especially animal-types, more likely to just get assigned the exact same quirk name as their family members, regardless of any difference in their abilities? Both of the Iida brothers, for example, have their quirk listed as Engine, though their pipes are in different places on their bodies. We’ll later be told that Spinner’s whole family has reptilian quirks, but his is particularly weak. Nonetheless, it’s still called Gecko, the same way Tsuyu’s is called Frog, even though she has a whole suite of abilities—she can do anything a frog can do!—and all Spinner can do is stick to walls. And I wonder what the culture is like on that, and who makes that call.
As a further thought experiment, consider that if heteromorphs are more likely to get blanket names of their quirks than emitters, what does that mean for the quirk registry as an investigative tool for police? Sure, there might be a lot of fire-users in the area, but the name and description of those quirks in the database will offer more ways to distinguish between them and how a fire-using suspect wielded their flames. You don't get that when your suspect had a lizardish quirk, there are fifteen petty criminals with lizardish quirks in the city, and all the quirk registry says is, “Lizard: Has lizard-like abilities and features.”
This homogenization of people who are already discriminated against compared to the apparent effort made to distinguish people with desirable emitter-type or colorful transformation quirks[5] leaves a lot of room for lazy, shoddy or even actively vindictive police work.
(Incidentally, Hound Dog and Gigantomachia both have quirks just named Dog. Machia’s version only grants enhanced smell and hearing; he lacks Hound Dog’s canine features completely. This would seem to indicate that simplistic quirk names aren’t limited by family groups, but rather assigned quite widely.)
At the end of the chapter, Tsuyu’s character page notes that she gets cold easily—a weakness to cold that fellow ectotherm-based-quirk-haver Spinner does not seem to share, despite his appearance being considerably more divergent than Tsuyu’s. On the other hand, his power set is much, much weaker. Possibly the more abilities you have from “your” animal, the more of their more “negative” traits you also have to deal with? This would track with Mirko’s panicky “rabbit survival senses” kicking in the instant she saw Shigaraki in the tube.[6]
Chapter 15:
Nedzu is introduced as the Principal. Nedzu’s an interesting case. He must be assumed to have a heteromorphic body as he’s clearly not a baseline mouse! And his quirk is heteromorphic in the same sense that Ujiko’s is—its effect is both limited to his own self as well as being inherent to him—he can’t turn it on and off, and he can’t affect others with it. Yet we can’t quite assume he experiences heteromorphobia in the same way humans do because he isn’t human; if people assume he’s animalistic or less-than-human, well, he is an animal, and he isn’t human.
Personally, I think Nedzu’s experience of heteromorphobia is most interesting for how it might intersect with that experienced by human heteromorphs—for example, what do people assume about Nedzu that’s similar to what they assume about other heteromorphs, and what do people assume about heteromorphs because of Nedzu and other rare instances of animals with quirks?
Chapter 21:
Introduction of Cementoss. His quirk’s an emitter-type, but his body, and particularly his head, is very clearly not baseline. Similar to Tokoyami, his appearance is technically independent of his quirk, though there are visual ties. This begs a lot of questions about the arbitrary categorization of quirks and the insufficient language to talk about people whose appearances are very far afield from the old human norm, if the only word there is for a very different body is a word that’s also used to talk about a quirk category, and it’s considered a somewhat rude word at that!
In any case, with his squarish, cement-block head, he’s also our best look so far at someone with a heteromorphic body who has a visual tie to something that is a) a recognizable, extant thing in the world, but also b) inorganic in nature. He won’t be the last or the weirdest of these.
Introduction of Sansa, our first animal-type civilian heteromorph.
Shouji’s character sheet, noting that Horikoshi thinks he’s cool even if he’s not the type of guy to stand out in the crowd, and wants to feature him in the story but isn’t sure when it will happen. The character pages often—not always, but often—show what characters look like underneath various masks and costumes. Shouji is the first exception, with his face remaining covered by his mask even here. I see very little reason for that to be the case unless Horikoshi was concealing his scars for a dramatic later reveal.
Horikoshi also mentions here, for the first time, that he really enjoys drawing non-human-looking characters. Given that he will also later say that he really enjoys thinking up personal details and backstory stuff for characters, it’s not unreasonable to suppose that he might have had the idea that “rural areas are still discriminatory�� from the very beginning, even if he didn’t know how much of a role it might wind up playing. This is especially the case if he had already begun conceptualizing the members and stories of the League of Villains, as discrimination is inseparable from Spinner’s reasons for becoming a villain in the first place.
The U.A. Sports Festival Arc (Chapters 22 - 44)
One thing that stands out to me about the Sports Festival—no particular chapters, so I’m putting it at the beginning; keep an eye out next time you read it!—is that the audience members are far more varied in terms of how they look than the street crowds tend to be. This is particularly the case as you get towards the finals and get more crowd commentary, and thus comparatively more detailed crowd shots.
Unincluded but equally telling panels include the ones with the skeleton knight or the parasitized snail guy.
While some of this can probably be chalked up to Horikoshi’s assistants getting better at drawing colorful random extras, I don’t think that’s the only reason, given how consistent the patterns in crowd make-up are throughout the series. Rather, it’s notable that the attendees to the Sports Festival are, by and large, Hero industry people—most of them are, judging by their costumes,[7] heroes.
We know from later on in the series that Japan has hundreds, probably thousands of active heroes in the modern day, and heroism is a good path for heteromorphs who don’t want to become villains but feel stifled at the prospect of being civilians; if nothing else, having a license is a preventative against being harassed for public quirk use just because you exist! So it’s not surprising that the mid-ranks of heroes—people with middling quirks who are, For Some Strange Reason, not popular enough to make it to the tops of the charts—are flush with heteromorphs.
Chapter 26:
The full roster for Class 1-B is shown, though only a few of them get much in the way of dialogue through the Sports Festival material, most prominently Shiozaki, Tetsutetsu, and Monoma. Class B is where a lot of the really weird first-year UA heteromorphs wound up. Class 1-A has got nobody even a sliver as Downright Bizarre as Fukidashi Manga and Bondo Kojirou.
Chapter 27:
Hatsume Mei’s character sheet implies that support goods are mostly a thing for heroes—a government license is required to produce them; using them requires a hero license. Most notable from her page is the sentence, “For those whose quirks impede everyday life, permits for special life-improving items may be granted after a rigorous examination.” That’s a lot of qualifiers, isn’t it? You might get to have support goods that improve your quality of life if you can prove to someone from the government that your life is sufficiently impeded by your quirk—oh, and that examination is going to be really demanding. There’s an obvious example in Aoyama’s belt, and Aoyama’s certainly no heteromorph, but it’s easy to imagine that kind of thing affecting heteromorphs disproportionately.
Chapter 29:
A small thing, but Tokoyami notes that the only person he has previously told Dark Shadow’s weakness to is Koda, another of the Class 1-A kids with a more significantly heteromorphic appearance. We will eventually find in a volume extra about the CRC that one of their branches is a group that rejects those who have strange heads—Tokoyami and Koda are the clear examples in Class 1-A, give or take Shouji’s unmasked features and Mina’s horns and odd coloring.
The wiki notes that Koda and Tokoyami were together for the USJ attack, so the weakness may simply have come up there, but I don’t believe it’s explicitly specified anywhere what the circumstances were for Tokoyami telling Koda that information.
Chapter 30:
A “raccoon eyes” from Bakugou aimed at Mina, a reference to her black sclera. The Japanese here just translates to black eyes, though—still a reference to a heteromorphic feature, but not an animal insult.
Chapter 32:
Opting to rest up during the Sports Festival’s pre-final break, Tokoyami, the bird head guy, does this by stashing himself up on a tree branch. While I don’t think Tokoyami tends towards a lot of avian mannerisms, he will later be deeply impacted by Hawks encouraging him to fly.
In a strategic tactic to rile up Midoriya by insulting his classmate, Shinso derisively calls Ojiro a monkey. It’s super-effective!
Chapter 33:
In a not-so-strategic patch of angry internal monologue about Ojiro spilling the beans on his brainwashing quirk, Shinsou thinks of Ojiro as a monkey.
Chapter 35:
Mount Lady comments on Shiozaki’s strength by calling her another plant user when talking to Kamui Woods. We’ll see this sort of quirk solidarity in a number of other places—Endeavor’s agency full of fire types, a fire-type dude on the street expressing his support of Endeavor, Hawks quipping about both him and Tokoyami being birds—but this is the nice, safe version of something that raises a lot more questions when it’s e.g. Tsuyu’s parents both being frog-type heteromorphs. More on that in the relevant bonus chapter. In short, the solidarity’s nice, but pushed too far, it’s easy for that kind of thing to turn exclusionary.
Chapter 41:
The introduction of Stain. Stain’s another interesting case of someone not being denoted as heteromorphic—Bloodcurdle is an emitter-type—but, like Cementoss, having physical traits that clearly fall in line with their quirk. I would say Stain’s an even more borderline case than Cementoss, actually, as far as having a quirk that blurs the line on typing.
Cementoss is clearly strange-looking—less scary than Stain, but also less human—but his physical features do nothing whatsoever to facilitate the use of his Cement quirk. Stain, though, has his tongue: too long to be a normal human feature, and certainly helpful in terms of making it easier for him to taste other peoples’ blood. Yet we don’t call Stain a heteromorph because, in contrast to a feature like e.g. Sero’s elbows, Bloodcurdle would work the same way even if Stain had a totally normal tongue. So how would one discuss any discrimination Stain might ever have faced over it?
Thus, my belief that the discrimination we see in the story is based, not simply on having a heteromorphic quirk, but on having a sufficient number of heteromorphic features.
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Thanks for reading so far! A lot of this first post was introduction and set-up, but the hints will be growing more overt as we press on. I'd like to make this series either weekly or biweekly, time and other projects depending, but it's written all the way up through the Edgy Deku arc, so I don't anticipate major delays.
I hope you all enjoy; this one has been in the works for a long, long time.
Next time: the Stain arc on through the License Exam, plus the (very telling) Tsuyu bonus chapter.
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FOOTNOTES
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[1] AFO uses the correct reading when he’s explaining Decay’s sudden appearance to Tenko in Chapter 222. I assume this is because Pops is a mobster while AFO has been married to a quirk scientist for seventy years.
[2] Also too, even if I were inclined to pick one word to use as the rude word and one to use as the more formal term, “mutant” is closer to the rude connotations of igyou than “heteromorph.”
[3] Knowing what we know now, it’s possible that l’il Tsubasa is fine, and that said Noumu only has a copy of his quirk via Ujiko. Its impulse to save/grab Deku could be chalked up as something caused by said quirk’s vestige, which the lower tier Noumu might simply lack the brain function to filter out. It’s difficult to say if the current story will find time to address this.
[4] One has to wonder if hero schools save all the crunchy classes about Hero Civics and Modern History for the third-years, if the younger grades are learning it but Horikoshi thinks it’s too dull to show, or if students are just never taught about it at all beyond the bare minimum necessary to do their jobs by the book, and anything more than that is the reserve of higher education or specialized study.
[5] Consider the simplicity of animal-type quirk names and then compare them with e.g. Helflame vs Hardflame Fan, Explosion vs. Landmine, Float vs. Air Walk, Magic vs. Poltergeist, Bubble vs. Clean Bubbler, or Scalemail vs. Scales vs. Shield. And that’s limiting myself to only quirks named directly in the manga! It gets even more ridiculous if the patterns in the anime’s invented names for quirks are taken into consideration.
[6] Of course, lots of people get chills from being around Shigaraki, even before the surgery but especially after. Everyone else has that response to a conscious Shigaraki, however.
[7] Conversely, when Mei scopes out some Support industry dudes in Chapter 35, the two she focuses on as well as nearly everyone seated around them are just baseline dudes in suits and ties. Only one of the fourteen visible faces in that panel is a probable heteromorph.
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