u/TNarrativeArchitect

Hello, everyone. I would just like to take this opportunity to thank this entire subreddit for allowing me to post chapters of my fanfic directly here. So far, writing this fanfic has been an absolute blast!

The comments on the actual chapters were very few, but nonetheless positive. Thank you.

But sadly, I will be going on an indefinite hiatus. The three chapters I have written and posted so far complete the first major arc of this fan fiction (Arc 1: The Wrong Target).

Because real life is getting to me, and the overarching plot is moving to a cosmic scale, I need to step back for a bit to clear my mind and recharge my creativity.

Meanwhile, keep supporting the fanfic and spread the word. Every view means a lot.

Thank you!!

My Hero Academia: The Japanese Juggernaut

My Hero Academia, by Kohei Horikoshi, is one of—if not the—greatest manga ever written. The action set pieces, premise, and world-building are top-notch, which just goes to show how much effort Horikoshi has poured into his 43-volume masterpiece. The anime adaptation is also top-notch and does the source material justice. It premiered in 2016 and finished its run in 2026, lasting a decade with 171 episodes (Season 8 is the absolute peak!).

Here are my reasons why this is more than just a superhero epic—and why everyone should watch it.

#1: The Simplistic and Eye-Catching Premise

In a world where 80% of the population possesses some form of superpower, there's a green-eyed kid named Izuku Midoriya who wants to save people and be a hero.

This is one of the main reasons that got me hooked in the first place. The idea sells itself. In an age filled with overly complicated scientific plots and excessive world-building (which is not a bad thing, by the way), this is a story everyone understands. We've all, at some point, had such an incredible but almost impossible wish (for me, at one time, I genuinely wanted to be a detective after watching Sherlock Holmes). This makes the protagonist and the overall story incredibly relatable and expands its reach.

#2: All Might: The Superior Superman (Elevated Archetype)

Now, hear me out. I am not saying that All Might is a Superman clone—they are character archetypes—but All Might as the Symbol of Peace is a more holistic version of Superman. Superman was a powerful alien (a Kryptonian) whose parents sent him to Earth during the destruction of Krypton (everyone knows that). His capsule landed in the USA, in Kansas, where he was found and raised by Ma and Pa Kent. His human parents, after witnessing his powers, taught him to be kind and help the weak.

Now, this is where All Might outshines him: whereas Superman was born with gifted powers, All Might, just like his successor Izuku, was born quirkless with no powers of his own. His family was killed by villains. These two reasons alone would be enough to push your average person onto a dark path, but All Might instead vowed to become a symbol—the Symbol of Peace—and create a world where everyone could smile.

In the flashback of Season 3, Episode 11, when Nana asks him about his reason for becoming a hero, this is what All Might (Toshinori Yagi) said:

"I must remember where I started. I wanna make a world where everyone smiles and lives together happily. For that to happen, people need a symbol."

[NANA]

"A symbol?"

[ALL MIGHT]

"A Symbol of Peace. The reason crime is on the rise everywhere is because citizens have no one to believe in. They need to rely on someone. That's why I wanna be the pillar that gives people hope."

This alone elevates All Might to a true hero: anyone with Superman's powers can be a hero, but not everyone like All Might can be. That's when I really connected with him—not just as an in-universe character, but as someone who strengthened my conviction in real life.

#3: Deku: The Ultimate Underdog Given World-Altering Purpose

Izuku Midoriya's opening lines in Volume 1 of the manga:

"When I was four years old, I learned that some kids have more power than others. But that won't hold me back... If anything, it pushes me to do better."

This immediately classic hook establishes Izuku as the ultimate underdog, especially through the flashbacks of his childhood. His courage and convictions immediately connected me to him.

#4: Large Cast and Unique Superpowers

The cast grows immensely large during the U.A. Academy arc, where the entire Class 1-A is introduced. Whereas writers like Erikson (the critically acclaimed Malazan author) and George R.R. Martin (the ASOIAF author) make a mess of such a large cast, Horikoshi is a superb and highly skilled author who gave each one of them a distinct personality and powers.

Moreover, as a "former" fan of Marvel/DC comics, nearly all of the superpowers of the characters felt unique:

· Eijiro Kirishima’s Quirk: Hardening. Kirishima's Quirk allows him to make his body rigid for both offense and defense.

· Ashido’s Quirk: Acid. Ashido's Quirk allows her to secrete acid and manipulate corrosive liquid from her skin.

· Ochaco Uraraka’s Quirk: Zero Gravity. Ochaco's Quirk allows her to manipulate the gravitational pull of objects and people, making them weightless.

And many more such unique superpowers (that is, Quirks) exist in the My Hero Academia universe. In an age where superheroes mostly have the same type of superpowers (this is especially true for American comics)—like super strength, flight, lasers, etc.—this feels like a breath of fresh air.

#5: The Positive Superhero Deconstruction

This might come as a shocker to some, but it's somewhat obvious after the festival arc. All Might tells Izuku the truth about One For All: it came from the All For One Quirk, where the elder Shigaraki (yes, you read that right, Shigaraki is his last name) forcibly gave his younger brother, Yoichi Shigaraki, a stockpiling Quirk that allowed him to store powers. But unbeknownst to the elder and even Yoichi himself, Yoichi did have a natural Quirk of his own: Quirk Bestowal, which allowed him to pass the stockpiling Quirk to another user. Hence, One For All was born. Just to think that the ultimate good power to defeat the elder originated from the very source fundamentally recontextualized everything I knew about the story so far.

Moreover, after All Might loses One For All, he basically gets ragdolled by All For One. Izuku unlocked the previous users' Quirks but lived with seven people inside his mind and lost his arms in his final fight with Shigaraki.

My interpretation of the core message from My Hero Academia:

"You don't need borrowed powers to be a hero. Symbols don't last forever, even the good ones. You can be a hero even without superpowers."

Most deconstructive works tend to be nihilistic (Alan Moore's Watchmen, for example) or negative (The Boys by Garth Ennis). But My Hero Academia doesn't dismiss heroism as toxic or naive—it celebrates it. All Might put on a valiant final fight and lived to see another day. Deku lost all his hard-earned powers but got a suit and continued to be a hero, as seen in the final volume.

This is more in line with Robert Kirkman's Invincible. Mark goes through hard trials and gets betrayed by his own father, Omni-Man, but every time he gets knocked down, he gets back up, learns, adapts, and fights harder. The ending is earned through consistent characterization and trials, not just given away for the sake of being given away.

#6: Masterful Genre Blending

Few authors (in any medium) can masterfully blend genres and make it work. Tatsuya Endo did it successfully with Spy x Family. Stephen King did it in his magnum opus, The Dark Tower.

Horikoshi is no different. My Hero Academia is mainly science fiction, but he pushes some powers—like Gearshift—and gives them a near-mythical, fantastical aesthetic. The blend feels natural and organic.

#7: The Power of Creator-Owned Comics and an Author's Cohesive Vision

Stories only resonate with people if they are stories first. The reason Marvel and DC (the "Big Two" of American comics) don't get bought as much anymore is that they are corporate-mandated projects first and narratives second. A character is never truly allowed to rest or even evolve: the status quo is king, every character development is erased, lore is retconned, and the story goes on. Spider-Man will always be fighting, Batman will always be brooding, and Daredevil will always be conflicted with his Catholic beliefs.

My Hero Academia is created by Kohei Horikoshi. He wrote a 43-volume superhero epic with a clear beginning, middle, and end, held together by an overarching plot.

Ultimately, My Hero Academia is a gem in the superhero genre, regardless of its medium (anime or manga). It is one of—if not the—greatest superhero epics ever written, and I am proud to be a My Hero Academia fan.

Hello, dear anime/manga lovers. Today, I published my first non-fiction book on Wattpad: Where the Ink Bleeds. In it, I post my personal deep thoughts as critical think pieces. Each chapter comprises a particular anime/manga, and the first chapter is dedicated to the currently popular Kill Blue anime.

Check it out here: https://www.wattpad.com/story/412644915?utm\_source=android&utm\_medium=link&utm\_content=story\_info&wp\_page=story\_details\_button&wp\_uname=TNarrativeArchitect

Happy reading!

The Strange Afterlife of Kill Blue

Want to talk about a weird situation? Here's one that really shows the gap between how manga and anime work inside Weekly Shonen Jump's pressure cooker.

But first, let me be honest about where I'm coming from.

At first, I thought Kill Blue was just your typical everyday anime. Then it had me hooked. Now, I admit it's nowhere near other similar but acclaimed manga like Sakamoto Days-but at least it's far better than your average anime like Kubo Won't Let Me Be Invisible, Masamune-kun's Revenge, And You Thought There Is Never a Girl Online?, etc. So it was really sad for me to see the manga eventually get axed by Weekly Shonen Jump.

It is very sad that Kill Blue’s manga got axed, forcing the author to rush all dangling plot threads into an incoherent ending—yet the anime has become a hit. This goes on to prove that sometimes manga companies like Weekly Shonen Jump need to be more patient with long-term projects rather than axing them prematurely.

How the author can Fix the Ending (If he ever wants to)

There's a classic storytelling trick manga authors use when they want to take back control after a rushed ending. Call it the "that really wasn't the end" structure-often a Part 2 or a subtitle. It lets the author Fujimaki bypass that messy final chapter entirely by throwing in a meta-twist from page one.

If he ever decides to go this route, here's how he can pull it off:

1. Go meta, break the fourth wall.

Open the sequel right where the final chapter ended. Everything looks neat and happy. Then-bam-Juzo Ogami wakes up from a dream, or breaks the fourth wall, or reveals that the "happy ending" was just a cover story (an illusion by the genetic manipulation group, a temporary hallucination, whatever). First page, bold title drop: "Chapter 1: That Really Wasn't the End."

2. Age everyone up.

A sequel is the perfect excuse to jump a year or two ahead. Move the characters from middle school to high school. That naturally resets the plot, brings back unresolved Z.O.O. Assassin Syndicate lore, and gives everyone a fresh start without being weighed down by the original's messy final chapters.

Bottom line: the anime's success means demand is there. Shueisha could absolutely cash in on a continuation.

But objectively? Let the Anime Fix It. This is a far more practical step to take then writing a literal multi volume sequel from scratch. This allows the best of both worlds: The Kill Blue Author gets to finish his story on his terms (in a different medium) and not overburden himself.

Using the anime to fix the ending is way more practical. But here's where it gets tricky-the "faithfulness trap." Production committees usually want one-to-one adaptations. But Kill Blue is in a rare spot where changing the ending actually makes sense for three big reasons.

1. The Anime-Original Ending (A.O.E.) Safety Net

One solution is to go for an anime-original ending (AOE), since the manga's rushed and incoherent conclusion makes a faithful adaptation a nightmare—literally and metaphorically—in this specific scenario, as it would kill the recent buzz the anime has generated and cause review ratings to drop. Instead, the studio could directly work with the author to craft a satisfying ending.

2. Trim the Middle, Fix the Flow

Because Studio CUE knows exactly where the manga ends, they don't have to worry about accidentally cutting something that might matter later. They can streamline repetitive middle arcs, drop plot threads that went nowhere, and reshape the narrative momentum so everything builds toward a brand-new, satisfying conclusion.This prevents the Soul Eater adaptation scenario where the studio caught upto the source material (manga) which was still being written and published during that time.

What the Manga Botched (and the Anime Can Save)

Dropping the rejuvenation bee lore and the Z.O.O. assassin syndicate storylines in the final arc left the manga feeling inchorent. The manga lost what made it a much more engaging read.

The author had to frantically reveal that Noren also had the age-regression condition, rush through her kidnapping by the Yugang group, and resolve the Mitsuoka Pharmaceuticals conflict-all in a handful of rapid-fire chapters. The whole grand conspiracy behind the genetic manipulation company and Juzo's life as a top hitman? Basically gone.

If the anime wants to capitalize on its momentum and deliver a truly satisfying ending, it needs to completely rewrite that final arc.

1. Resolve major character arcs

In the manga, Juzo simply transfers to a new school, Noren kisses him on the forehead, and he just... goes away. Not only does this result in a rushed and unsatisfactory ending, but it also erases all of the protagonist's character growth. What was the point of making friends and forming genuine connections in that school if he was going to leave at the end anyway? This also gives Noren a bittersweet ending that doesn't serve any crucial narrative growth. It feels bittersweet "just for the sake of being bittersweet"—it doesn't serve any narrative purpose whatsoever.

2. Explain the weird genetic lore.

The anime could finally explain the science behind the DNA-modifying wasp sting and the creation of the rejuvenation formula. Instead of treating it like a throwaway plot device, the final twist could reveal a massive corporate war over the technology-making Juzo and Noren's shared condition the absolute epicenter of the conflict, not an afterthought. Due to getting the "soft axe" the author had to abandon all the Z.O.O Assassin Syndicate and the genetic bee rejuvenation lore which resulted in a incoherent and rushed ending.

3. Let Juzo reconcile with his wife and daughter.

The manga barely touched the emotional core of Juzo's situation. He's a 39-year-old man trapped in a teenager's body, and his family is just... out there. A truly great anime ending would give him the chance to finally reconnect with his wife and daughter-not as a distant memory, but face to face. Let him explain himself. Let them react. Give that relationship the closure it deserved from the start

4. Actually resolve the tension between Noren and Juzo in the earlier arcs

The manga just kept inserting the "young girl falls in love with a guy who is literally her father's age". This was downright weird to me and at the ending, Juzo just leaves Noren and all his new made friends to go to another school,leaving Noren sad.The heroine deserved better.

However there are equally valid reasons why the manga why never meant to be as successful as the big leagues:

I'd like to offer some additional insights from a comparative framework:

Reason #1: The manga did have it's own Coherent Identity

There's a reason I brought up Sakamoto Days and compared it to Kill Blue. For context: I haven't read the Sakamoto Days manga, but I did watch the anime. In my view, Sakamoto didn't dominate the assassin space solely because of a three-year head start-the deeper reason is narrative-driven.

While watching Sakamoto Days, I noticed that at its core, it was always a serious story. Sakamoto finds love, builds a family, and makes a promise to his wife that he will never kill again. The comedic moments are integrated naturally-and this is how genre blending actually works.

Reason #2: The Kill Manga couldn't do genre blend properly

Think of My Hero Academia. It's clearly science fiction, yet the logical extremes of certain powers-like One For All's predecessor voices or Gearshift-give it a near-mythical, fantastical aesthetic. The blend feels natural and organic

But the author of Kill Blue didn't pull this off. To me, the genre blending felt forced. It's like trying to combine literature with hard science-it becomes a total mess. Genre blending only succeeds when done naturally and with restraint, much like Horikoshi demonstrated.

A fitting comparison with a different medium (novel) for a comparative viewpoint:

Kill Blue actually reminded me of Stephen King's The Outsider. In that novel, King spends most of the book building compelling evidence on both sides, like a classic locked-room mystery. Then, in the final hundred pages-boom-he metaphorically (and literally) throws in the towel, defaulted to his typical supernatural mode, and left me feeling like a complete fool for trying to deduce a crime scene that ultimately didn't matter.

Kill Blue follows a similar pattern: it reads as if the author didn't know how to naturally blend and integrate the opposing tones of assassin life, high school comedy, and drama.

That being said, I genuinely do love Kill Blue-it just makes me sad that it never reached its full potential.

So yeah-that pretty much sums it up.

DON'T READ THIS POST IF YOU ARE NOT FAMILIAR WITH THE ORIGINAL MANGA. THERE'S A MODERATE RISK OF SPOILERS FOR THE ANIME ADAPTATION!

The Strange Afterlife of Kill Blue

Want to talk about a weird situation? Here's one that really shows the gap between how manga and anime work inside Weekly Shonen Jump's pressure cooker.

But first, let me be honest about where I'm coming from.

At first, I thought Kill Blue was just your typical everyday anime. Then it had me hooked. Now, I admit it's nowhere near other similar but acclaimed manga like Sakamoto Days—but at least it's far better than your average anime like Kubo Won't Let Me Be Invisible, Masamune-kun's Revenge, And You Thought There Is Never a Girl Online?, etc. So it was really sad for me to see the manga eventually get axed by Weekly Shonen Jump.

What Happened to the Manga

Kill Blue by Tadatoshi Fujimaki started strong. But over time, sales slipped and reader survey rankings dropped. Shonen Jump is ruthless about that stuff, so the manga got wrapped up quickly in September 2025, ending at Chapter 115. It was a "soft axe"—the author had to cram everything into one rushed final chapter just to close things out.

But Then the Anime Took Off

Here's the twist: the anime was approved long before the manga got canceled. Production committees had bet on Fujimaki's name and early success. When Studio CUE's adaptation dropped in April 2026, it just worked—slick animation, great pacing, and a fun mix of action and slice-of-life comedy. Viewers loved it.

And here's the ironic part: the anime became a massive hit, and that actually boosted interest in the finished 13-volume manga. So the anime ended up breathing life back into a franchise the magazine's voting system had already abandoned.

Why Fans (including me) Are Frustrated

It stings when a series gets cut just before it finds its groove, especially when an anime later proves how much potential was always there. But Jump runs on a harsh, fast-moving business model:

· The survey trap: Jump lives and dies by weekly reader postcards. If a series sits at the bottom for a few months, editors kill it to make room for new stuff. Doesn't matter if it's popular overseas or might grow later.

· Anime takes forever: A typical anime takes two to three years to produce. By the time a studio gets those early, high-quality chapters animated, the manga's magazine ranking might have already cratered.

· The silver lining: Jump editors almost never reverse a cancellation. But massive anime success? That changes everything for the creator. Fujimaki now has leverage, better royalties, and a loyal fanbase waiting for whatever he does next.

How the author can Fix the Ending (If he ever wants to)

There's a classic storytelling trick manga authors use when they want to take back control after a rushed ending. Call it the "that really wasn't the end" structure—often a Part 2 or a subtitle. It lets the author Fujimaki bypass that messy final chapter entirely by throwing in a meta-twist from page one.

If he ever decided to go this route, here's how he could pull it off:

1. Go meta, break the fourth wall.

Open the sequel right where the final chapter ended. Everything looks neat and happy. Then—bam—Juzo Ogami wakes up from a dream, or breaks the fourth wall, or reveals that the "happy ending" was just a cover story (an illusion by the genetic manipulation group, a temporary hallucination, whatever). First page, bold title drop: "Chapter 1: That Really Wasn't the End."

2. Move to a different magazine.

If Jump won't host a sequel because of the original sales dip, Fujimaki could take it to Jump SQ or Shonen Jump+. Those platforms have looser deadlines and don't rely on weekly postcard rankings. Tatsuki Fujimoto did exactly this to give Chainsaw Man Part 2 some breathing room.

3. Age everyone up.

A sequel is the perfect excuse to jump a year or two ahead. Move the characters from middle school to high school. That naturally resets the plot, brings back unresolved Z.O.O. Assassin Syndicate lore, and gives everyone a fresh start without being weighed down by the original's messy final chapters.

Bottom line: the anime's success means demand is there. Shueisha could absolutely cash in on a continuation.

But Honestly? Let the Anime Fix It

Using the anime to fix the ending is way more practical. But here's where it gets tricky—the "faithfulness trap." Production committees usually want one-to-one adaptations. But Kill Blue is in a rare spot where changing the ending actually makes sense for three big reasons.

1. The Anime-Original Ending (A.O.E.) Safety Net

If the manga is already finished before the anime catches up, studios can get creative. Instead of adapting that rushed Chapter 115, the director and writers could work directly with Fujimaki to script a multi-episode original finale. Give the story the room it never got in the magazine.

2. Trim the Middle, Fix the Flow

Because Studio CUE knows exactly where the manga ends, they don't have to worry about accidentally cutting something that might matter later. They can streamline repetitive middle arcs, drop plot threads that went nowhere, and reshape the narrative momentum so everything builds toward a brand-new, satisfying conclusion.

3. It's Happened Before

This isn't new. Blue Exorcist and Black Butler both went off into original anime storylines when they ran out of material. The 2003 Fullmetal Alchemist created its own masterful, independent ending because the manga wasn't close to finished.

At the end of the day, the anime is a commercial product. The production committee wants to maximize streaming and merchandise revenue. A rushed, hated ending would kill their profits. So they actually have a strong financial incentive to override the manga's ending and fix it.

What the Manga Botched (and the Anime Can Save)

Dropping the rejuvenation bee lore and the Z.O.O. assassin syndicate storylines in the final arc left the manga feeling hollow. The author had to frantically reveal that Noren also had the age-regression condition, rush through her kidnapping by the Yugang group, and resolve the Mitsuoka Pharmaceuticals conflict—all in a handful of rapid-fire chapters. The whole grand conspiracy behind the genetic manipulation company and Juzo's life as a top hitman? Basically vanished.

If the anime wants to capitalize on its momentum and deliver a truly satisfying ending, it needs to completely rewrite that final arc.

1. Actually hunt the syndicate.

In the manga, Juzo just transfers to a new school, and everything resets to "normal days." Lame. The anime's climax should feature a full-scale raid. The home economics club assassins and Juzo should take the fight directly to the heart of Z.O.O. and Mitsuoka Pharmaceuticals.

2. Explain the weird genetic lore.

The anime could finally explain the science behind the DNA-modifying wasp sting and the creation of the rejuvenation formula. Instead of treating it like a throwaway plot device, the final twist could reveal a massive corporate war over the technology—making Juzo and Noren's shared condition the absolute epicenter of the conflict, not an afterthought.

3. Let Juzo reconcile with his wife and daughter.

The manga barely touched the emotional core of Juzo's situation. He's a 39-year-old man trapped in a kid's body, and his family is just... out there. A truly great anime ending would give him the chance to finally reconnect with his wife and daughter—not as a distant memory, but face to face. Let him explain himself. Let them react. Give that relationship the closure (or new beginning) it deserved all along.