Chapter Text
[ Kei Mouri, 6 years old ]
Blood, he can’t bring himself to say it out loud. My tears are blood.
He feels the thick, red liquid trail down his face. The crimson tears travel much slower than water would. They drip down his chin and wander to his neck, where the collar of his shirt absorbs as much as it can. Everything is red.
“That’s right, son,” Akiro Mouri drops to one knee beside his boy. “Let it all out. It’s just the toxins being expelled from your body. It will be over soon.”
They’ve been at this for months. Kei is beginning to wonder if his father has lost his mind. He’s been receiving a special “medicine” that makes his pain disappear. On good days, it works. Sadly, today is not a good day. Today, Kei’s quirk is trying to defend his body from whatever poisons are being dispersed throughout his veins.
“And we were doing so well,” his father places a swab beneath his right eye, then the left. “Don’t worry, Kei. We’re almost there.”
He says that every day, and they are never any closer. At times, Kei wonders what results they’ve been chasing. Another part of him doesn’t want to know.
“It hurts,” his fists cling to Akiro’s leg, searching for fatherly warmth.
“That pain will stop eventually. That is what we’re going for, isn’t it? We’ll just have to try again tomorrow. Nurse Tsoya will help you into bed.”
I want you to help me into bed, Kei doesn’t dare to reach for his leg a second time.
Tsoya appears, right on time. She is a kind woman with warm, blonde hair. Kei tries to stand on his own, though his legs give out beneath him. He lands in a small puddle of his blood. His nose twitches at the scent. It’s rusty, like the basement stairs.
“Come on, dear,” she offers him a soft hand. “We’ll clean you up and get you settled for the night. You must be tired.”
“Always tired.”
His words strike a sense of fear into her heart. Tsoya knows only what Dr. Mouri has told her – that his son is “deathly ill,” and that he is looking for a cure. Her first week was spent scrubbing dried blood from the boy’s body. At first, she was planning on reporting the doctor to the authorities. Those plans were shattered, much like her bones.
“This is illegal!” her voice cracked. “That boy needs proper medical attention. He isn’t a lab rat, he’s a person, a child!”
“I was afraid this would happen. Kei will be so sad to see you go.”
“The only place I’m going is to the police station! I won’t let you people get away with this.”
Tsoya turned on her heels to leave, quickly realizing her mistake. She felt her ankle roll with a horrific “crack.” Broken, as if it were a cheap pencil. Her knees collided with the concrete floor as she felt her bones shift beneath her skin.
“What is this?!”
“My son’s quirk is strong, yes,” Akiro removed his glasses, revealing a set of glowing, red eyes. “But I’d like to think that mine is better.”
He lifted his hand and listened for the crackling of Tsoya’s bones. Her screams bounced throughout the halls, alerting the staff of her errors. Both ankles went limp, twisting and contorting in unnatural ways. A monster, she thinks. He’s a monster.
“This could go two ways, dear. Your first option is quite boring, I’m afraid. You could choose to stay and care for my son, which could persuade me to repair those bones. Or – and this is my personal favorite – you could try to escape and risk being impaled with your femurs.”
“What happens if I stay?” she managed to push through the pain.
“He would be greatly cared for,” his smile was sickening. “After all, you come highly recommended.”
“What happens if I go?”
“I would have to find another nurse.”
“I’ll stay.”
“Wonderful!” he clapped, before stepping forward. His shadow masked her cowering silhouette, “Now, be sure to hold still. This won’t be pleasant for you.”
And it wasn’t. Tsoya felt her ankles force themselves back into a natural position, ripping another plea from her throat. Once the bones had healed, she made a feeble attempt to stand.
“What – what would he like to read before bed?” she ignored her tears and searched for a sign of life behind the wicked doctor’s eyes.
“Pick anything you like from the library. He isn’t picky.”
“I’m not picky,” Kei’s voice pulls her back to the present. “Father is teaching me to adapt. He says it’s important for our mission.”
“Yes, of course.”
Tsoya doesn’t let herself linger over that word. She knows that if she thinks too hard, she will burst into tears. His father’s mission has become his mission, deceiving them both.
“I think we’ll read this one tonight,” she says, pulling a children’s book from a locked chest.
Kei is quick to climb the rocking chair and settle into her arms. He is surprised by the picture book, as his father had forbidden those. His fingers touch the cover, wondering how so many colors could exist. He’s only ever seen the basic primary colors.
“You should put it back,” he’s disappointed. “Father will be upset.”
“Then we’ll have to keep this a secret,” she holds a manicured finger to her lips. “Just between us, all right, dear?”
“A secret?”
“A secret.”
───
[Kei Mouri, 12 years old]
A vicious wind nearly knocks him over as his son’s form clings to the wall. Kei climbs up to the ceiling, where he rips another cadaver in half. Animalistic growls can be heard, shaking his staff to their very cores. No one dares to question Dr. Akiro Mouri’s prized creation.
“Time,” it’s barely above a whisper, but the boy heard it.
He retracts his new claws from the wall and leaps between support beams. Eventually, his bare feet hit the ground. His back instinctively straightens as he folds his arms tightly. Kei looks at his father with malice. He can’t help but wonder how easy it would be to rip his throat out.
“You’ve gotten slower,” Akiro sighs. “I suppose that’s my fault. I should’ve gotten fresh bodies. These are much too stiff, nothing like the real thing.”
“Are we done for the day?” the child before him speaks as if he’s witnessed a bloody war.
“For now. Honestly, son, I’m starting to think that you don’t want this. Have you forgotten our mission? Our purpose?”
“No, father.”
“I should certainly hope not,” he adjusts his glasses. “Rikomu, escort him to my office. I will be there shortly.”
“Yes, sir.”
Kei allows Sizu Rikomu – his father’s right hand – to “escort” him to the office. He forces his body to still as metal cuffs click around his wrists. His eyes watch the floor as they walk. Kei has memorized the entire warehouse, including the exits. His father’s office is on the second floor, only sixty feet away from his bedroom.
Rikomu doesn’t need to say a word. Kei knows the drill. The moment they enter the office, he drops to his knees and throws his hands in the air. The loose keys dig into his icy skin before the restraints are removed. He places his hands in his lap and forces his shoulders back.
Now, they wait.
“Hey, kid,” Rikomu can feel his life hanging from every word. “Does your quirk still work?”
“He’ll kill you for talking to me,” Kei smiles, enjoying the game. “And my quirk doesn’t concern you.”
“After the experiments, I haven’t seen you use it. I just need to know if you still have it.”
“My quirk is a part of my body, just like the poisons you people have filled me with,” this isn’t a child. “I can use it after confirmation from father. It’s a shame, too. I’d love to watch you drown in your own blood,” this is a monster.
“Rikomu,” terror fills them both. “You, of all people, should know to hold your tongue.”
“Sir, I didn’t-”
“And you never will. Ayame, take care of our old friend, Sizu Rikomu.”
“Right away, sir,” Ayame wastes no time in dragging Rikomu from the room. He is followed by three armed guards, one of whom carries live rounds.
The sound of a gunshot forces Kei into a shrunk position. He raises a hand to cover his ears, only to receive a harsh shock. His father holds a taser to his face, promising another shock if he were to move even an inch.
“I hope you’re proud of yourself, Kei,” he uses the desk to support himself. “I liked Rikomu. He was a good boy, with a knack for bloodshed. You could’ve learned from him.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
Another shock. This one was much more powerful. Kei’s body tenses, though his gaze does not falter. He’s grown used to the electrocutions. At this point, it’s more of a harsh tickle. There have been worse pains, he lets a small smile etched into his features. Right, Dad?
“I was afraid of this. You see, there is only so much I can do to keep you in line.”
“I’m not a fucking robot,” his tone seethes hate. “Do you think that I’ll follow you when I know where we’re headed?”
“I know you won’t. Which is why I’ve prepared an incentive. Bring her in, boys.”
On cue, the same three guards return with Nurse Tsoya pushed between them. Her hands are bound with electrical tape, while a dirty cloth keeps her from screaming. Kei jumps to his feet, only to feel his leg break. The bones splinter in familiar patterns. He’s getting lazy, and he forces himself up from his kneeled position.
“Well done,” his father nods with a sick sense of approval. “But I would be careful. Nurse Tsoya wouldn’t appreciate any sudden movements.”
“Let her go. I’ll do whatever you want,” and he will.
“I wish I could believe you.”
Kei’s eyes float to the door, which opens without a sound. A man with white hair approaches them, his tailored suit reflecting what little light is allowed in the room. He places his briefcase on the table before taking a small step towards the boy.
“Is this him?” his voice is smooth, unnerving. “Hello, Kei. Can I call you Kei?”
“I’d rather you didn’t.”
“Akiro, fix the boy’s leg. You will want him in peak condition for this.”
Without a word, his father repairs the broken bone. This time, Kei lets himself scream. He can feel his body trying to fight his father’s quirk, leaving a metallic taste in his mouth. Once healed, he bears his canines, prepared to hurt anyone who gets too close.
As he throws himself towards his father, strong hands pull him back. Kei sinks his teeth into his attacker’s wrist, releasing himself for a moment. He eyes the other two guards holding Tsoya.
He steps closer, ready for a fight. Before he can reach them, he feels someone pull him back by his hair. He moves to bite them, only for his jaw to be clamped shut. Kei acknowledges a cool metal that clings to his face. A mask covers the lower half of his head, keeping his jaw in place.
It’s a muzzle.
Kei shoots back, shaking his head to remove the device. His hands grip the edge and try to pull. The moment he feels the muzzle shift, several sharp spikes dig into his cheeks. If he could scream, he would. Instead, he drops to the floor in pure agony.
“Son, this is a good friend of mine, Dr. Ichigo Nagisota,” his father says, bending down to his level. “We worked together to create this little device for you.”
His eyes are wide with both fear and excruciating pain. He tries to claw at the mask again, only to receive the same punishment.
“I’ve heard so much about you, Kei,” Dr. Nagisota folds his hands in front of him. “Your father told me of his success. You must be proud; the first of many perfect soldiers. There’s only one flaw. You need to obey.”
Kei nods, hoping that they will understand – I will. I’ll do anything, just take it off.
“Dr. Nagisota can help with that. Don’t worry, son, we’ll get you in perfect working order.”
Kei doesn’t know what to think. He’s too focused on the blades that dig into his face.
“I look forward to working with you, Kei Mouri.”
The next ten months are absolute hell. Every day, Kei would wake up and be dragged into Nagisota’s office. There, he was brutally tortured by both his father’s quirk and the muzzle that was designed just for him.
They hope to turn him into a killer while expanding his quirk’s abilities.
“I beg to differ. We were working together last night, and I think there have been serious improvements.”
“Last night? What could you have been doing?”
“Just watch. Kei, do you remember what we talked about?” Nagisota’s words send him into a vicious panic.
Kei trashes against the hooks that keep him chained to the wall. I remember, the muzzle keeps him from saying it. Please, don’t.
“Obidere,” there it is.
The clashing of chains comes to a halt as Kei’s body straightens. His eyes glaze over as he is forced into a new headspace. He can see his father and Nagisota, but he has no control over his limbs. It worked.
“Stand,” and he does, “Bow,” he drops into a full bow. “Dr. Mouri, I’d like you to meet your newest soldier. With the code words, he will do anything you ask.”
“Genius,” Dr. Mouri approaches his son. “This is what you’ve been keeping from me.”
“It was meant to be a surprise.”
“I certainly am surprised. And this code word, anyone can say it?” his curiosity is piqued.
“That’s right. Now, your son is a soldier, willing to fight for your cause. Would you like to see him in action?”
There is no need for an answer. The doctors walk to the training room, with Kei leading them. His steps are quick, yet steady. He moves just like any other person does, but nothing like how he moves. The guards wait by the doorway, readying their weapons.
“Bring them in!”
Seven guards enter, each bringing a live hostage. Nagisota watches quietly as they are positioned throughout the room. Their bindings are removed, allowing them to mangle their blindfolds. Dr. Mouri immediately recognizes Nurse Tsoya.
“While he is under my control, he has no choice but to obey,” Nagisota nods towards the boy. “Kill them all.”
Much like the mindless soldier he’s become, Kei leaves a gust of wind behind him as he launches himself toward the first hostage. He plunges his teeth into his neck, taking a chunk of flesh in his mouth. The man’s scream is cut off as his body drops.
“Beautiful,” Akiro applauds. “He’s finally beautiful.”
One by one, the hostages are killed, torn apart, and drained of their blood. Kei finally looks at Nurse Tsoya. She’d managed to avoid him the best, which only angered him.
No, he tries to move his fingers, his toes, anything. Stop, stop!
“He cannot feel anything,” Nagisota smiles darkly. “Of course, he would feel a stab to the chest, but that can be fixed. Emotions, however, are a part of us. Right now, he has none. The sweet Nurse Tsoya is nothing but a body to him.”
“I don’t believe it. He loves her like a mother.”
“Kei, do me a favor, and bring me her head.”
Helplessly, Kei watches as his hands wrap around her neck. His claws dig into her soft, supple skin, meeting his palms on the other side. She doesn’t cry for help or beg for her life. She simply looks him in the eyes, offering comfort. He feels her veins crumble beneath his hands before cutting a clean line across her neck.
Kei screams, begging for control. His hand grasps Tsoya’s decapitated head by her hair as he approaches Nagisota. A single, bloody tear runs down his cheek as he drops the head at their feet.
“Good boy,” he wipes the tear from his face. “You did well. Now, return to us. Dormita.”
He feels the breath leave his body, his knees giving out beneath him. Kei looks at his shaking hands, horrified by the amount of blood. As if his tongue had a mind of its own, he licks the hot liquid from his fingers. It’s good, even more tears spill. Why is it good?
“I don’t know how to thank you, Nagisota,” his father chuckles. “Anything, and it’s yours.”
“I can only think of one thing I want,” he runs a hand against Kei’s shuddering cheek. “Let me borrow him sometime. I quite enjoy his company."
“I’m not – going anywhere with you,” his breathing hitches.
“Oh, dear boy,” the doctor grabs him by the back of his head, forcing their faces closer. “I don’t think you have a choice.
Get off me. Get away, Kei can only think of the filthy hands gripping his hair.
That day, everything changed. Nagisota and his father were so proud of their work, they decided to show it off at the upcoming Nova Convention. Elite scientists gather once a year for this event, and next year, Kei will be attending – not as a visitor, but as a demonstration.