Deku and a Culture in Conflict: The End of My Hero Academia

My Hero Academia by Horikoshi Kohei is a manga that has stood out thanks to its gorgeous art, variety of memorable characters, and exploration on what it means to “do good” and “be a hero.” It ties together the popular genre of the shounen battle manga with the classic American trope of the superhero, and provides a simple but profound setup that evokes the best of both. Now, after 10 years, the series has concluded, and the reception to its ending seems to be rather mixed. While that is likely a case of “the loudest voices” in online discussion, it’s also a reflection of how MHA has long attracted a variety of readers with values that conflict a great deal.

Warning: Spoilers for the entirety of My Hero Academia

Plot and Circumstances

My Hero Academia is the story of a boy named Midoriya Izuku, also known as Deku. In a world where superhuman powers referred to “quirks” are commonplace, Deku dreams of becoming like his idol, the #1 hero All Might. Unfortunately, he discovered at a young age that he is entirely quirkless, all but dashing his hopes. But a chance encounter with All Might leads to the living legend transferring his power to Deku, making the boy the latest in a long line of individuals to carry a mysterious power called “One for All.” This sets Deku on a path towards entering UA Academy, Japan’s most prestigious school for aspiring heroes. Over the course of the series, Deku and his friends learn the ins and outs of being a hero, but also the fact that there are profound disagreements as to what that entails.The emergence of villains, including ones with ties all the way back to All Might’s prime years, adds a thread of history that connects past to present.

So much of MHA reflects the period and circumstances in which it ran. In 2014, titans of Shounen Jump like Naruto and Bleach were in their sunset years, and these series had helped popularize massive casts of uniquely powered characters through which readers can find their own favorites. MHA is cut from this cloth, with all of Deku’s friends and teachers providing a veritable smorgasbord of possibilities. Then there’s Deku himself, with his pure heart and humble desire to help others, who was one of the vanguards of a generation of “good boy” leads. And back when the series began, the Marvel superhero movies were truly a global phenomenon; I suspect that their cultural penetration in Japan is part of why readers gave MHA a chance. 

But a lot changes over the course of a decade. The Marvel Cinematic Universe has dragged on and suffered from all the problems that plagued the overly convoluted comics. Antiheroes never fell entirely out of fashion, and there has always been a contingent of readers who see Deku as boringly naive and someone who needs to learn how dark and difficult the world actually is. His rival Bakugo, a former friend turned bully, is hotheaded and violent, and one of those characters whom certain fans saw as the real star. 

A big question surrounding Bakugo’s popularity was the degree to which fans liked him because they saw him as someone who could change (particularly in regards to personal redemption for his terrible behavior towards Deku), and to what extent people liked him precisely because he’s an asshole. When the series then brings a more extreme version of this dynamic, the question of whether someone deserves forgiveness or a second chance becomes a lot more fraught: The hero Endeavor has a history as an abusive father, for instance, and the villain Shigaraki (responsible for many evils) is himself a product of generational trauma and manipulation. MHA seems to touch directly and indirectly on many cultural flashpoints of the past decade by virtue of being a series that 1) wants to portray a bunch of powerful and attractive guys and girls, 2) is very much centered around different ideas of hard work, camaraderie, and justice, and 3) is a long-running shounen series with lots of plot threads, which means pacing becomes an issue at some points.

The Ending

So when the final chapter came out, it was perhaps inevitable that the reaction would be mixed. There are too many different people with their own perspectives reading this series in their own ways. Even so, it still surprised me how much disappointment seemed to resonate through the fandom. Some interpreted his new life as a quirkless UA Academy teacher to be a bittersweet outcome. They saw it as unfair that a guy who saves the world gets little fanfare and legacy, especially because he loses his powers leading the charge to defeat the ultimate villain of the series, All-for-One. Even All-for-One apparently falls short as a major villain. Other criticismsI’ve seen include the lack of resolution for romantic shops, that outside of a brief period as a vigilantes, Deku never develops a “dark side,” and that having his old classmates develop a Batman/Iron Man–esque super suit for him is a cop-out ending.

Yet the ending is so appropriately Deku. It’s fitting that he would accomplish arguably the greatest feat his world has ever seen and then recede from the spotlight, only to be pulled back into it by the people whose lives he changed. Deku goes through a great many ordeals throughout the entire story, and while he learns that the world presents some complex moral quandaries, those tribulations also reinforce Deku’s inherently kind nature. He sacrifices All Might’s gift to him, One-for-All, to get through to his primary nemesis and rival, Shigaraki. He ultimately reconciles with a changed Bakugo, but not without taking many lumps in the process. In the aftermath of the final battle, he even encourages a villain to write a book about his perspective on why Shigaraki was the greatest, because Deku wants to hear the story he has to tell. And while Deku isn’t holding hands with Ochako (the #1 romantic prospect in the series) by the end, he does call her “his hero.” Even if they’re not officially together in the final chapter, they’re still only in their early 20s, with plenty of life ahead of them. 

It reminds me of the backlash against the ending of Gurren-Lagann, which was also a series where fans loved seeing the hero reach ever greater heights that all seemed to lead to a perfect happy ending, only for a slight twist at the end to break the tidal wave of endorphins the series had been generating at the end. I saw fans at the time its last episode aired express such anger and frustration at its ending, while missing the fact that the hero’s actions signify that the errors of past generations won’t be made by him.

Other Thoughts

I know that some of the problems were caused by questionable fan translations that made Deku seem a lot sadder than he actually was. But even taking all that into consideration, it’s strange to me that “teacher at UA Academy” is joked about as being some kind of perverse punishment. It allows Deku to apply one of his greatest strengths—his love of studying and analyzing quirks—in a way that connects to his inherent desire to help others. Deku’s humble nature is central to his being, and while I don’t wish to analyze the readers themselves, I can’t help but wonder how many people dream of being showered with praise for doing something great, and feel at odds with Deku’s values. If Deku has any great flaw, it’s his willingness to sacrifice himself at any moment, and even that is turned on its head by the fact that his friends found a way to make him a superhero again. 

It also juxtaposes him against All-for-One, who is ultimately shown to be a lifelong sociopath and the embodiment of selfishness. Speaking of whom, I can understand why readers might be disappointed that All-for-One turns out to have pretty uncomplicated motivations instead of those of a true mastermind, but I also think that contrast makes for an important point. For all his power and influence, he was ultimately no better than an emotionally stunted individual whose infamy and accomplishments masked an otherwise naked avarice. “Wasn’t he just a big baby in the end?” Yes, both figuratively and literally, and I can think of a couple real world examples who are exactly this way. The idea that great evil doesn’t need great motivation is deceptively simple.

Final Thoughts

With a series like My Hero Academia, it’s impossible to satisfy everyone who read it, especially because so many disparate groups came to this series. For some, it was a breath of fresh air in manga and comics. For others, it was their introduction to anime and manga. It was a mix of two of the world’s biggest genres with a few others thrown into the pot, and it went on for 10 years. Did it drag at times and leave some plot threads untied? For sure—that was almost inevitable. Yet I do feel that My Hero Academia successfully kept its core intact. There is growth, but growth doesn’t have to mean tossing away everything that made you who you are. For all the ups and downs, I think Horikoshi stuck the landing by remaining true to the hero he created.

When the Shounen Good Boy Gets Hate: Tanjiro, Deku, and Anti-Antiheroes

The first time I learned that some anime and manga fans dislike Tanjiro from Demon Slayer, I was genuinely surprised. To me, he’s one of the best shounen protagonists in a long time: a gentle soul whose greatest qualities are love and empathy, and who is fueled by those emotions to get stronger. And in terms of the battles Tanjjro fights, I really enjoy how every victory feels like it came at great cost to him, emotionally and physically.

“How could anyone not like Tanjiro?” I wondered. Even knowing that this was probably a minority of viewers, I decided to just look at online comments both off the cuff and more detailed, and saw a few recurring criticisms. Namely, the goodness of Tanjiro can make him come across as preachy or self-righteous. He’s too good, lacking any darkness whatsoever, and this can be difficult to relate to. 

I understand not being into goody two-shoes, but what confused me at first is that it’s not like Tanjiro is a perfect unstoppable hero. He’s often unable to defeat demons on his own, and it means that battles are more of a collective effort. However, I eventually realized that this too can be seen as an unappealing trait precisely because he didn’t win on his own.

Things changed when I began approaching the matter in pro wrestling terms. Essentially, I think a lot of people who aren’t fond of Tanjiro—or other similar characters like Deku from My Hero Academia—want heroes more akin to wrestling greats like Stone Cold Steve Austin, The Rock, and post-1980s Sting. Back in the 1990s, antiheroes became much more prominent in entertainment as a whole, and while they were often underdogs against an oppressive greater force, they were also rowdy ass kickers. In contrast, Tanjiro is what wrestling fans call a “white meat babyface,” or an unabashed good guy. In wrestling, this is often “solved” by having the good guy turn bad, become edgier, and then become good again so that they carry at least a bit of a dark side with them. This literally happened with The Rock, and even Deku has a similar phase—one that certain fans had wanted Deku to reach the entire time. Some folks are just looking for badasses.

All this reminds me of a post I wrote back when Kill la Kill was the big thing. At that time, some fans saw Ryuko as a one-dimensional protagonist because she’s a perpetually angry ass kicker who doesn’t have a grand arc full of character development. She doesn’t change on a fundamental level, and this was viewed incorrectly as “poor writing.” I think a similar thing happens with Demon Slayer, only with a different type of main character. That’s not to say preferences aren’t allowed to exist, but that they are not to be confused with neutral objectivity.

For Tanjiro and other “good boy” characters, the purity of their compassion is a beacon of hope that kindness and love can be enduring sources of strength. The fact that Tanjiro never changes at his core reinforces that power. At least, that’s my interpretation. What I’ve since learned is that others might see that aspect as something bland and in need of “development.” To this, I would say that being able to maintain one’s empathy even as the world grows more cruel is a fine character arc because it is in itself a true challenge that requires adapting and honing oneself to overcome the temptation to do otherwise.

The Prince of All Rating Systems: The Vegeta Level

There are many areas in which we can judge anime and manga. We can talk about animation quality, narrative consistency, excitement factor, or even just emotional resonance. Recently, I’ve come up with a system that I think provides a new perspective on how we view titles—I call it the Vegeta Level.

Named after the Prince of All Saiyans from Dragon Ball, determining a work’s Vegeta Level starts with a simple question: “How many Vegetas are in this?” In other words, are there any characters who embody—in part or in whole—the qualities of Vegeta, and if so, how many of these characters are there? Vegeta qualities include but are not limited to: short, spiky hair, intense, arrogant, a rival status, current or former villain with a smidge of emotional development. Sometimes, there’s an intangible quality where you can’t quite say why they’re a Vegeta, but you can definitely feel it. 

A series with a relatively high Vegeta Level can have one extreme Vegeta, or it can have so many partial Vegetas that they add up to one or more whole Vegetas. The degree to which each Vegeta quality is present can also factor in. For reference, Vegeta himself is 10 out of 10 Vegetas.

The genesis of this idea actually came from the volleyball anime Haikyu! When I first started watching, one of my recurring thoughts was, “There sure are a lot of Vegeta-like characters in this show.” Hinata and Nishinoya are both short, spiky-haired hotheads with something to prove. Kageyama is a scowling and hyper-competitive “king.” Tsukishima has all the arrogance in the world. And then, as you expand to the other teams, the number of Vegetas only grows—see Bokuto to some extent, and especially Hoshiumi. There’s Vegeta-like energy in all of them.

Even though there’s a clear standard for this metric—Vegeta—there’s still room for subjectivity. In a sense, how you perceive a Vegeta is as much based on how you see Vegeta, whether you’ve actually read/watched Dragon Ball or not. Bakugo in My Hero Academia is very clearly a Vegeta, but how Vegeta is he? One could argue that only Vegeta should be a 10 out of 10, but Bakugo is so nasty and angry and has such a character arc that he might be considered just as Vegeta if not moreso.

So let’s work through an example. Dragon Ball is clearly at least Very Vegeta due to the man himself. Are there any other Vegetas? Technically, there are literal relatives of Vegeta in here, but this is more about personality and archetype. Of his kin, his dad King Vegeta is probably around an 8/10, and Future Trunks (but not modern-day Trunks) is more like a 6/10. Among antagonists/rivals, Tienshinhan, Cell, Piccolo, and Frieza are all fairly Vegeta—I’d say about 4/10, 5/10, 6/10, and 7/10 respectively. From that rough look, that’s 49 Vegeta points. Again, it’s not wholly objective, much like the star rating system in professional wrestling, so there’s room for argument.

So what use does the Vegeta Level have? Well, if you like Vegeta, it’s probably a great way to find a series that interests you. But also, Vegeta as a character is so embraced not just by fans but also shounen manga in general, and I think the presence of Vegeta-like characters are a way to give a series an extra edge without necessarily making it “edgy.” That being said, an all-Vegeta series would make for about the edgiest thing ever.

Does such a series exist? One friend suggested to me at least one series that could outstrip it: The Sopranos. According to him, practically every character in that show is a high degree of Vegeta. 

Food for thought: Could there theoretically be a work with a Vegeta Level that’s over 8000 or 9000?

[APT507] The Best Shounen Superhero: Why It’s Easy to Love Deku from My Hero Academia

Main characters in shounen fighting series tend to get written off as generic and boring, but I find Midoriya from My Hero Academia to be a strong exception. I’ve written a post on Apartment 507 exploring why I think he’s so effective.

[APT507] The Legacy of All Might: Pieces of the Symbol of Peace

My Hero Academia continues to impress, and I thought I’d write an article over at Apartment 507 concerning how different characters interpret and emulate All Might. If you have any thoughts on All Might as a character, let me know!

[Apartment 507] My Hero Academia and the Spirit of Captain America

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Just in time for the release of Captain America: Civil War, I decided to write a short article about the similarities between My Hero Academia and Captain America.

I think there might be some additional parallels with the new movie as well, but I’m going to have to wait until I actually see the thing before I make that decision.

[Apartment 507] Is Your Favorite Character a Modern Yandere?

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I wrote a post about characters who suffer from deep love over at Apartment 507. Are you dere for yandere?