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"The body is tainted." The woman's heel click upon marble floors.
"I uh- I don't understand," the boy says softly. His blonde hair blows in a breeze that is not present. She turns to look at him, a scowl on her red lips as she narrows her eyes, her nails are long as they dig into his wrist, drawing blood.
“You understand perfectly, you know what you have done, the words that you whisper in the minds of many. You are tainted, the body is tainted.” the blood drips onto the white floor and he hisses, his golden eyes going from her matching eyes to the puddle on the floor. His other hand stretches, scratches, begs for her to stop.
“I… I understand mother.” she lets go, her eyes also watching the blood. Also- always… always watching his imperfections. He moves to walk away, but she grabs his white sleeve.
“Clean up your mess.” she lets go and walks away, her brunette hair fluttering behind her.
“... Of course mother.” he listens to her walking before biting his lip and going to grab a mop. The blood sits, and stains, and begs, and pleads. He watches it impassively, he watches it as blood soaks his shirt, he watches it as water and soap mix in. He watches it later when it swirls down the drain.
And he watches it again when his world stops, only to start up once more. His hand shakes, twitches, and his body thrums with unneeded electricity, his hands shake and his body begs to go near the man, but his mother is there. She is there and she is watching and she is scowling as Denki turns from the man, looking up at her. His eyes plead for her to understand, but a scoff leaves her lips as she turns away, her voice quiet.
“He is nothing but a bug, Denki. We do not bother with bugs.” her perfectly painted nails grab his wrist again, and he winces when he feels it touch the bandages. Her eyes narrow, nostrils flaring. “What is this…?” her voice is quiet, soft as she brings his wrist up to her face to inspect. She scowls when she sees the pristine bandages, “Why did you do this?”
“I was- I was bleeding, mother.” His voice stumbles, summersaults, and falls to the floor. Her eyes narrow further as her lips form a snarl.
“Then you should have let yourself bleed!” her voice makes blood roar in his ears as she throws his arm back at him, he could imagine her hair flying up, her eyes are like lightning, and not the kind that he is. Hers is sour, powerful, painful. He lets out a noise, his eyes flying across the faces surrounding them. “We are going home.” her voice leaves no room for arguments and he nods, his eyes falling upon a pair of moss colored eyes before he looks at his mother’s back and follows. Her perfect little soldier.
UA, an opportunity away from his mother, an opportunity to make something out of himself. The choice to be the knife in their backs, or the knife in his mother’s. He doesn’t get a choice- his eyes watch Izuku while his mother’s watch him. A battle, a maneuver, an avoidance. Blood on his wrists, his hands, blood around his neck, his mind. His mother reminds him, tell him he’s tainted, that he doesn’t deserve Izuku. He can’t help but believe it as he stares at the bodies under him, as he knows the bodies his mother has under her.
“You’re just like me, baby…” she sweeps his hair behind his ears and kisses his forehead, “You’re a good boy.” he stares blankly as blood leaks into his shoes, as he watches the blood flicker in the streetlights, at the blood on his mother’s heels.
“Yes, mother.” his voice is lacking, and his heart hurts. He closes his eyes and hopes that Izuku cannot feel his pain, but he knows better than to wish that. Everything is bad, it’s bad.
It’s worse than before, his mother’s hands sparking, the knife in her hand gleaming silver and red. “I won’t let you leave me-” she bares her teeth and Denki’s breath is stolen from him as the words pierce, daggers thrown with precision. His eyes glint as he tilts his head, his body hurts, the blood drips again and his eyes watch. They watch as petals fall out of vases, land in the blood. This will be a mess to clean up… his shirt stains and he sighs, watching as his wound seeps, moans, groans for attention, as the blood runs down and drips more.
“Mother-” his words are clumsy still, a fog over the street, unclear. He stumbles and she laughs, nails on a chalkboard, bodies falling from building, screams of pain, of blood.
“Son, Tainted son, terrible misery-” she pauses, her golden eyes staring into Denki’s own, “I don’t regret this. I never will.” She brings the knife high before a scream is released into the air- one of anger- of frustration. Denki opens his eyes- when did he close them?- to see her wrist covered in a scarf, to see her body covered. His eyes spot Aiwaza and he cannot stop his smile as his legs give out and he falls into a puddle of his own blood. The taste of blood fills his mouth, a familiar taste. The smell threatens him, but it too is familiar. He rolls to his side as he watches the blood, unable to do much more. He hears people speaking, but he cannot hear.
They know- they know and he is a goner. He closes his eyes and desperately wishes that his life was anything than this- anything better.
Want to try again? To rewrite the story and make it perfect? Would you still be you? Would you be happy? Would he finally love you?
Restart?
>Yes? .No
The end of the world is difficult to face, the end of one and the beginning of one. As his mouth drops open, as his golden eyes stare into a pair of moss-colored eyes, he knows. He understands, even though he is young, only six years old.
“Mommy!” Denki tugs on his mother’s shirt and points, “Him! Him!” he walks towards him with confidence, a smile. His mother follows with a laugh, her hair made of a thousand different golden strands. Their mother’s talk as Denki takes Izuku by the hands and giggles. “I found you!” Izuku tilts his head and blinks slowly.
“You found me? You were looking?” his voice is soft, but it’s intelligent.
“Of course- you don’t remember but-” he pauses and leans close, “I have always loved you.” Izuku stares at him, his eyes wide as he grabs his hands tightly.
“I… I believe you,” his voice is a cloud, soft, almost unheard. He smiles and kisses Denki’s cheeks, pulling away as his face goes red, “I’ll see you again!” he tugs on his mother’s hand as they leave. Denki stares after them, not a complaint leaving as his mother picks him up and carries him away.
“Mommy, I love him.” she laughs at his words.
“Maybe when you’re older, but not quite.” she stares at him and a jolt of fear makes him stand stock still, the vision of golden eyes filled with blood, of a smile that cut him at every opportunity it had. He shakes his head and buries his face in her shoulder.
“Okay mommy…” his hands reach up to the sky, a wish to touch a cloud, to touch Izuku’s words on the tip of his tongue. He closes his eyes and lets his fate continue onwards.
His fingers stretch and flex as he straightens his tie, his eyes are tired and much older than his body would reveal. “Are you ready?” he whispers to the mirror, to his reflection. He asks himself if he is ready for school- ready to see Izuku again. It’s been ten years and his body hurts everyday, his heart is heavy with a pain that is not his own. He walks into the classroom with a smile on his face- his heart drops as he does not spot a hair of Izuku.
What happened? How did he not get in this time? Is this the world mocking him, staring and laughing as they point fingers and tell him that Izuku will never be his? That he is too broken, too hurt to ever love the perfect boy? He swallows thickly and decides that he must wait- this life has a fate for him, and his fate will always be tied to Izuku.
Months pass and his heart breaks everyday, he cries ice, in hopes he could feel something, anything, but it does nothing but make his bed colder. He makes friends, but cannot connect to the,. He is broken and all he wants is the perfect boy, the boy of moss to his boy of gold. His fingers stretch, reach for the boy he met once but could not cling to as tightly as he wanted.
Why does the world hate him? Has he not done enough? What more must he do until the world is satisfied with itself? Until the world will let him love Izuku?
Never. The world whispers as Izuku’s face flashes across the news, It is either you or him and you chose to save yourself, leaving him to ruin.
The world laughs at him again when he wakes up chained to a wall, his body thrumming in energy. Ice coats his blood as he watches Izuku waltz in, a knife in hand with another on his smile.
“Do you still love me?” his voice is sweet, soft- cotton candy.
“Always-” Denki’s voice floats up to the ceiling and sticks, staring at the two of them, “I loved you with blood coating my hands and I love you with blood coating yours.” Izuku walks close and kisses him.
“And to think- I thought we were two crazy six year olds…” Denki smells the iron, can hear it landing on the floor.
“Were we not?” he leans forwards and captures Izuku’s lips with his own, “It doesn’t matter just- don’t leave me. Please.” his eyes fill with tears.
“Of course I won’t,” Izuku smiles and the knives he holds in his smile and hand glints in the lowlighting, “You’re perfect and you are mine.”
Is this what you wanted? The world laughs as it stares, Is this the life you wanted for yourself? The one you begged us for? This is what you get for asking us to change it.
Blood gleams on that floor as Denki is taken away on a stretcher, the police taking his mother away.
“What should we do?” Present Mic watches the ambulance.
“What do you mean?” Aiwaza looks at him.
“I mean- he’s just a kid, but he did-”
“The mental hospital. I’ll make Izuku go check on him. They should… they should have a chance.”
The original ended so much better, but you did not want to try, darling Denki. You wanted to change fate- and now you will be ruined, left in ruin when the burden is too much to bare.