Work Text:
When he was a boy and his quirk manifested, he expected joy like he’d seen from other families in his class. The whole day he waited until he was home to tell his father, chattering away excitedly with his friends as they all poked and prodded the replica of a classmate he'd accidentally made.
He stood side by side with the replica later that day, a smile on his face that gradually faded when he noticed the strange fury in his dad’s strained eyes.
In a split second he was grabbed; when his father spoke, telling him to break the replica's arm, a force compelled him to do exactly that and the chair he'd turned into the replica gradually reformed out of the goop it turned back into.
Tears welled up in his eyes. His arm was squeezed tighter as he cried that it hurt. He didn't like being mind controlled. He didn't like the image of hurting his classmate and he only cried more.
'Inappropriate' his father called it. A quirk to not be used in public, ever. Only in school, only to train it.
Hair fell in front of the boy's eyes when he was finally let go. He frowned, looked down, and nodded. His fingers curled around his throbbing arm where bruises would soon form.
It followed him through his childhood.
Every single time his father did something to him, he never let Tomoyasu forget that he was the reason his mom died when he was born. Why they were miserable. Why his dad hated him.
If his quirk went on the fritz and his father saw, he'd roughly grab Tomoyasu's face and use his quirk to make him destroy the replica. Bruises always formed on his jaw and arm where he was grabbed. Sometimes it would be worse, leaving cuts where his fingernails dug into his skin.
In middle school, he began to wear his hair longer. It covered his eyes and the faint remains of bruises that appeared less often as he gained more control of his quirk and learned how to navigate around his father.
When he entered college after a long and grueling childhood, he cut himself off from his father and focused on his studies. At first, with his workload, he swore he’d do it all himself. It wasn’t hard–but one desperate night a day before a paper was due, after hours of thought, he caved and hesitantly tapped the side of his desk chair. It morphed into a copy of himself, which sent a shiver down his spine, with its creepy muppet smile, hidden eyes, and the uncanniness of it not being quite human.
Tomoyasu looked from his laptop to the puppet. ‘Anthropomorph’ it was known as legally. A quirk he rarely used and had only trained when required in class. He liked to call them puppets instead of replicas or clones, because they only did exactly as they were told, but he had lingering thoughts that maybe, one day, his quirk might evolve and they’d become sentient.
The thought freaked him out, reminded him too much of his father's quirk, so he ignored it.
The first time he’d ever actually accepted his quirk was that night he asked the puppet to write down what he was saying, recording his spoken rough draft and notes that rattled through his brain as he tried to organize his paper. It typed diligently on his laptop while he rummaged through papers of sources and citations. Tomoyasu half expected it to turn and grab him, or do something unexpected, but as with every other time he used his quirk, it didn't move until told.
Tomoyasu found some sort of relief after he designed a puppet that would look unlike any other person he knew. He knew very young that all he had to do was think of what he wanted them to look like--by the end of his first year, he and two unique puppets typed away on three separate laptops he'd scrounged up for cheap and his grades had never been better.
He moved onto using them for more than just homework. He found a job where he soared to the top, a tech company that let him utilize his puppets. He and his quirk worked in complete unison; he had to speak exactly as he wanted, a trait he'd picked up when speaking to his father, and the puppets responded the best with the simplest instructions he could think up.
During work, he'd completed reports and documents like a breeze. His puppets had no feeling, so at night while he put together dinner he could set them at the table to finish even more of what he dictated to them. Often, he felt like he was talking to himself.
Of course, during all this, Tomoyasu was constantly reminded that his quirk was not meant to be used in public even if the boss was fine with it. His managers and peers would say it, but all he could hear was the voice of his father in the back of his mind.
Obviously, he never used his quirk outside of his house or job. He didn't even know, after years of thought, if he could ever have the guts to do so if it was allowed.
"Chikazoku, someone is here to see you."
Tomoyasu scowled. "Who? I don't have any meetings for the rest of the day."
The young lady appeared nervous and went ahead and let a strange man in without approval. His most notable feature was his large nose and somewhat unassuming posture. He didn't look like someone Tomoyasu would have done business with.
When the girl left, the man took a seat at Tomoyasu's desk.
"This better be important, I'm busy. You're not welco-"
"Forgive me for the informality. You can call me ReDestro. I was researching your work and wanted to talk to you."