Chapter Text
The year 2349, location- somewhere in the Kanto region; Neo Bukuro.
The smell of rain filled the air as droplets pounded on only the tops of the towering structures. Miles upon miles of wood, metal, and glass covered the once flourished area that people somehow managed to call home. Social status was how they lived now, set areas for set social classes. Longitude meshed with latitude as the world turned from horizontal to vertical. It was like the rich built on top of the poor. Mountainous structures - homes and shops tightly packed together - were all the eye could see. If one was so unfortunate to live in the slums, as many were, they might never see the light of day through the winding columns of society.
It was in these walls that a young boy was born, a middle class family in a home wedged deep inside the labyrinth. Black hair with even blacker eyes.
Kirishima Eijirou was born on a rainy day in mid October, his birth being one of millions that day as the world slowly overpopulated. His parents didn’t celebrate, instead frowning upon the child as they continued on with their busy lives. It was only the artificial care of a robotic maid that gave him the kind of parental guidance that he craved so much.
His mother and father both had office jobs, taking calls for customer service. Work was their biggest priority, more important to them than their son. Every day was a constant cycle of the cold bland reality that clouded all of their heads.
When Kirishima’s younger sister was born, it was like a whole different family had been struck out of the rubble. He heard laughter filling the rooms, bouncing off the walls and through his head. He remembered sitting in his room, the dark shadows disrupted by small streams of artificial light breaking through his curtains as tears fell down his face.
He would stand in the bathroom, reflection cloudy in front of him, as he pinpointed mistake after mistake on his small frail body. He saw the deep groove running down his chest that signified the robotic parts inside, forced upon him by his parents. It was customary for children his age to begin getting cyborg parts. He could never go to sleep without the soft buzzing and whirring of his internal structure filling the air and numbing his ears.
The small scar above his right eye that he had gained from resisting the shady doctor his parents brought him to in an attempt to save a bit of money installing the “new thing” that all of the kids were getting those days.
Slowly but surely, Kirishima came to the realization that he was going insane. He couldn’t stand this goddamn routine that was drilled into his brain every day. He needed something new... something exciting. Something that would bring the feeling back into his body.
So taking one last glance around, he zipped up his small rucksack and silently slid out of the unlocked front door of his family’s small apartment.
. . .
He was finally doing it, running away like he had dreamed of doing for so long! He could find somewhere to live and create a new identity for himself. He could meet new and amazing people, people he had never imagined were possible
He slipped through small cracks and slid down tight staircases as he descended the towers in which he was born.
He could tell by the way the scenery was changing that he was getting closer and closer to his destination. The way the neon shop lights seemed to flicker, like lower-city lights did. The inescapable smell of unwashed musk that no one could ever seem to escape.
Kirishima marveled at the new scenes, he couldn’t see the light of day anywhere as he peered up through the winding paths and pipes. He couldn’t make it back home even if he tried by now.
He looked down at his hands, silently cursing at his fingers for shaking so much.
He knew he didn’t fit the part here. His stark black straight hair, his innocent boy face, and large curious eyes were the byproduct of an upper-raised boy. He knew he had to change his looks as soon as possible, but he had no idea how.
He skidded to a halt as he saw the bright sign for a body mod parlor. An idea bloomed in his head as he ducked through the tight doorframe.
The small bells atop the door jingled as he entered, his jaw dropping as he saw what lay inside. What looked like tribal designs tattooed the black walls in a stark white contrast, the hue of the lights emanating a purple color across the whole room.
The man- or at least he thought it was a man- at the counter peered up at him through neon green glowing eyes.
The person’s shocking appearance nearly made Kirishima jump, but he realized it would be more “in the norm” to be different down here.
If he had seen anyone with dyed hair or special colored implants, his parents would always shake their heads and tell him to look the other way. Even when he requested his iris color to be red, they were flabbergasted at first and would only allow it if the hue was somewhat of a dark maroon instead of the bright flaming red he had requested for.
He pondered for a moment on what he should get but was startled by a large bang coming from the back of the shop.
The person at the counter shot up, his eyes alert as he scanned the shop for any sort of damage.
A girl with neon pink hair sat up in a salon chair, a white bandage wrapped around her face. Small horns poked up from her messy bird’s nest of curls, each one tapering off in a zig-zag pattern instead of ending straight up like normal horns would.
Kirishima absolutely loved the idea of horns. He recalled from his long boring history lessons, there used to be animals with horns sprouting from their heads in various places depending on the species.
The girl shouted an apology, a goofy grin plastered on her face as she laid back down on the reclining chair. The person in front of him shook their head, a look of displeasure apparent on their face. Kirishima was glad the girl had bandages over her eyes so she couldn’t see the disapproving glare that was being shot her way.
Their attention was brought back when Kirishima let out a soft cough, letting them know that he was in fact still standing there waiting.
“Fuck can I do for you, kid,” the person grumbled, clearly not in the best of moods.
Kirishima gulped as he scanned the room once more, looking for inspiration for a moment before pinpointing a photo tacked to the wall above the person’s head.
In the photo was a man with razor sharp teeth, bared and pearly white for the camera. Kirishima’s brows arched as he stared at it, curiosity getting the better of him as he looked back down at the oh so patient person in front of him.
“H-hello...!” he squeaked, stumbling over his words as he continued. “T-teeth sharpen... D-does it hurt...?” he said, pointing towards the photo.
They looked up, eyeing the photo before turning back to Kirishima. A mischievous grin spread across their face as they arched a single brow in his direction.
“Why... ya scared??” they teased. Kirishima’s heartbeat rattled through his body as he thought of a witty response. Of course he was scared, he could hear his blood rushing in his head as he teetered where he stood.
“O-of course not...!!!” he shook his head, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the lip of the countertop that separated them. “I’ll do it,” he finally decided. He was a man after all, and a man didn’t go back on his word… right?
The person stood up then, walking back towards the salon chairs before glancing back and motioning for Kirishima to follow them. He stumbled after them, tripping over his own feet as he made his way back to where they stood.
The pink haired girl from before had earbuds in now, how she got them in her ears through the tangle of hair and bandages he had no idea.
He sat down on the chair, taking a deep breath of air as he tried to calm his nerves down. He was doing this. He was going against his parents will for the second time in his entire life. For some reason, whatever guilt that had been stowed away in his body left at that moment, flying out through the window cropped open with what looked to be a bong.
The person from before had long since began preparing for the surgery, rummaging through drawers and tossing the necessary items onto a small metal tray that sat on a small table beside him.
He found it odd how throughout this whole process, the clerk had never made the move to ask him his age or even who the hell he was. It must be common down here, Kirishima thought as he shook his head.
He was asked to open his mouth, and upon doing so a steady pair of gloved hands were shoved inside as some sort of metal contraption was screwed into place.
His jaw began to ache as the person shot needles of numbing serum into his gums, the fuzzy sensation spreading throughout his face as his eyes fluttered in an attempt to stay open.
He felt tools entering, drilling sensations vibrating through his skull as his mouth was surgically altered. He was glad that they lived in such an advanced time, where as if they had been living back in the pre-days his mouth would have taken eons to heal.
Finally, after what had felt like years of work, the clerk unscrewed the device. Kirishima could let his jaw rest. He ran his numb tongue across his new teeth, his brows arching as he sensed the unmistakable metallic taste of blood.
The worker disappeared through the back door then, mumbling under their breath about something before loud rummaging could be heard.
It was then Kirishima realized that, a part of being a teenage runaway meant that he had no money, and in fact he was totally screwed.
He began to panic, running his hands through his hair and thumping his foot on the ground. Sweat droplets formed on his forehead as his breath became ragged, his face heating up as he wondered what the hell he was going to do.
He would just work there, right? Surely the nice clerk would understand, right? He really didn’t want to spend the rest of his teen years working in a dump of a body mod shop though...
He snapped back to reality as a sharp cough pierced through his thoughts. He whipped around, half expecting the clerk standing there with some sort of weapon but instead was greeted face to face by the pink haired girl from earlier.
“You good bro?” she said casually as he took in the sight before him. Her eyes had been completely tattooed black, save for the golden iris in the center. He couldn’t keep himself from gawking for a moment, never having seen anything like it before.
“F-fine...!” he finally managed to squeak out, glancing back up towards the back door where the clerk was still yet to re-emerge from. He looked back at her, gulping before leaning in closer to whisper. “I-I just realized that I have no money...” he said shamefully.
Instead of the harsh reaction he was expecting, the girl just tilted her head back and let out a howl of laughter. He stared at her in confusion as she had a fit, only attempting to regain her attention once it had died down a bit.
“You some sort of upper boy??” she giggled, wiping an imaginary tear from the corner of her eye. She shook her head, jumping up from where she sat. She shoved her hand out in a sort of friendly gesture. “You know that if you don’t have any cash, you dash. Follow?”
He whipped his head back to the back door, pondering his few options before looking back at her. “Dash...?” he mumbled, sliding his quivering hand on top of hers.
Her giggle turned into a laugh as she pulled him up from his chair, clapping him on the shoulder before taking off through the shop. Poor Kirishima could only hold on to her hand for dear life as he was dragged along.
The commotion they had caused made the clerk from earlier peak their head out from the back room, their complection dropping as they let out a shout.
“You little shits!! Get the fuck back here right now and PAY!” they yelled, stumbling after the two.
Mina cackled, flinging open the parlor door and taking a hard left. She dipped under pipes and hopped over bumps in their path as she dragged Kirishima after her, the clerk losing distance.
Kirishima’s panic soon turned to undeniable excitement as he let out a whoop, letting go of her hand to steady himself as he followed.
Adrenaline surged through his body as he weaved his way through, running behind the girl. Her pink curls were bright and easy to follow. His strides widened as he gained confidence. The sounds of the city obscured the mechanical whir in his chest and for the first time in ages, Kirishima felt free. He let out another ecstatic cry, letting his joy manifest in a sound. He ran his tongue over his new teeth again and spat the blood out, laughing. He glanced background and couldn’t see the neon green of the clerk. “I think we lost them!” he yelled forward to the girl. “Don’t let them fool you,” she warned, her expression dark.
Suddenly, the clerk was in front of them. “You’ll have to run faster than that,” the clerk hissed.
The girl jumped up, almost impossibly high, and landed on a counter nearby. She kicked a sign at the clerk as she did so. Her amber eyes had a manic glee in them. Kirishima just watched, amazed. “Come on, Teeth! Get him!”
Her words spurred Kirishima into action and he dashed towards the clerk, bulldozing their legs with his body. They stumbled and fell. Kirishima’s ribs stung, but he felt giddiness rush through him. He picked up the sign the girl had kicked at the clerk and used it like a bat, clocking them in the side of the head. They stilled. The girl landed next to the clerk and placed two fingers on their neck. She grinned at Kirishima and said, “They’re fine. Let’s go.”
They sprinted off, letting the crowd that had grown around them clean up after them. After what felt like both hours and seconds, the girl pulled Kirishima into an alley. “Shh,” she directed, a finger over her lips. She crept into a door in the alley and Kirishima followed. They passed several doors before the girl opened one. After closing it behind them and slumping onto a dingy couch, the girl finally spoke.
“Welcome to the palace.”