Chapter Text
Takuya Igarashi has never viewed himself as a villain, only as the savior of God’s world; a self proclaimed prophet of sorts.
On paper, he was just a modest man who oversaw a tiny, dilapidated orphanage near the Yokohama border, just outside of Musutafu. But in reality he was a devout extremist who believed that God had abandoned the modern world.
Like most everyone else, Igarashi had secrets, but his were far darker than most. He saw the emergence of superpowers as evidence that the devil had spread a virus that was changing God's divine creation into something twisted, evil, and demonic.
These abilities were curses rather than gifts. Abhorrent Creatures! He would not permit such filthy Things to contaminate God's creation.
The children in his care were the first step in his mission to purify the world. He protected them from the temptations of those flashy powers by raising them with strict teachings. He cared for them just as he would his own children. Some would argue that his rules and teachings were abusive, but he didn’t believe that. Though deep down he knew it was wrong, he felt no guilt for his actions; everything he was doing was for God.
Atsushi Nakajima was one of the orphans; a four-year-old who soon won Igarashi's affection: quiet, eager, and obedient. The boy never caused trouble because he adhered strictly to his teachings. Igarashi frequently praised him for his diligence.
Atsushi had been having doubts of late; he would never admit it, so as he opened his door, he shook his head repeating to himself. “The headmaster could never be unjust, I believe in the headmaster.”
Walking out of his room, Atsushi immediately looked around for Lilya, a smart and kind girl who Atsushi was friends with; She came to the orphanage a few months ago, and she and Atsushi became friends immediately.
Looking around, Atsushi saw her with the other kids, they seemed to be gathered around her; he was curious. Peering through the other kids, he saw her, her eyes filled with what looked almost like tears. Not much was different about her except now her eyes were a purplish hue, and instead of real tears, Atsushi saw thin, melted glass-like crystals dripping down before solidifying and dropping to the floor; some shattered, others rolled across the floor, hitting the shoes of the other kids, all while emitting a small humming sound.
The first thought Atsushi had was, "Why? When did she stray away from God?" And the second came quickly after as he watched her crystal tears fall, her face contorted in pain as she dug at her cheeks. "She's in pain."
Atsushi hadn't realized, as the headmaster stood behind him, his face twisted in both anger and disgust. Igarashi watched for a few moments before pushing his way through the other kids, who were taunting the girl.
Igarashi was furious.
He took her arm, yanking her up from the ground where she sat, pulling her forward towards the basement, pushing her down the stairs, and watching as her body thudded against the steps.
The other kids laughed. One kid who Atsushi and Lilya both had played with spoke, his voice bitter: "That's what she deserves, fucking sinner."
Atsushi bolted forward to the basement door, peeking down the stairs.
Atsushi watched as his friend was chained to the stone floor and watched as the headmaster beat his friend. Never asking her to repent, only calling her foul names.
He stayed there hidden in the shadows, watching as his closest friend was beaten even after going unconscious. Silent tears streamed down his face as he crept back to his room. Leaving her there, leaving her behind, leaving her alone.
He believed in the headmaster’s teachings. He truly did. But… he also believed people could change, even the “impure” could be saved. He couldn’t accept it, Lilya so full of joy and kindness, how could she be beyond salvation. It’s not possible! She can be saved right? When had she strayed away from God? Could he have saved her?
He had known her since her first day at the Orphanage, at least he thought he knew her. How could she do this? Was she truly beyond saving?
In the following weeks Atsushi’s demeanor changed once cheerful now quiet. Reclusive. Distant. He refused to eat and often stared off blankly into the distance.
Igarashi tried to comfort him, but Atsushi only withdrew further, as if his touch would burn him. As if his comfort would only cause more pain. Eventually Igarashi grew tired of Atsushi’s behavior, concern now anger. He beat the boy with a leather strap, but Atsushi barely reacted. Only a defeated look in his eyes.
Punishment became routine.
Each day, the beatings grew more severe, Atsushi had to face reality at some point. Still, Atsushi refused to react. Only ask when his friend would return.
“She is repenting; there is no use in asking pointless questions ” Igarashi would say.
But one day, Atsushi stopped asking altogether.
He drifted through the orphanage, silent,and hollow-eyed. His mouth in a perpetual frown, his brows furrowed in thought. Or maybe it was something darker a new emotion, one that Atsushi wasn't quite ready to feel.
Though over time, he began to eat again. He resumed his chores. He spoke more and smiled more. Yet the sadness never truly left him. It lingered beneath the surface like a shadow waiting for nightfall. He wanted things to go back to what they once were, so he would have to forget what had happened, or at least pretend as though he didn’t miss Lilya and her caring smile. She wouldn’t want to see him like this, she wouldn’t want him to lose faith.
Several months went by.
Atsushi had become accustomed to pretending. It was easy to pretend that nothing had ever happened, that what he saw wasn't real. Like nothing had changed. But his emotions still bit and clawed at the back of his throat, begging him to yell, scream, or cry, but he never did. He had to stay strong. He had to stay strong for the day when he’d welcome Lilya back assuring her he never once doubted her belief in God; even though by now he had doubted his own faith.
Today is Atsushi’s 5th birthday. The other children were excited, whispering and giggling following him everywhere as they prepared a surprise party. Atsushi smiled along with them, but something twisted inside his chest, fear, perhaps? Or disgust? He wasn’t sure.
Something had changed, something At sushi refused to believe. Nothing felt right anymore. The orphanage felt like an inescapeable prison; whose walls were built by lies and hate. One that he desperately wanted to leave, but he couldn't, would anyone believe him anyway? It's not like any “Hero” has ever stepped foot in this place; not like one ever will.
He had been hiding these feelings for six months—resentment for the headmaster, guilt for doing nothing, and shame for still believing in anything at all. But today wasn’t the day for that. It was his birthday. He didn’t want to ruin it; for the others or for himself. He had to be strong.
“If not for myself, for Lilya. She wouldn’t want me to lose hope.” He thought.
The day passed like any other. Chores. Helping with the
By evening, the common room was filled with decorations, candles, and cake. The other children gathered around, eyes bright with anticipation for Atsushi, for him, to celebrate him.
Though it was hard to hold a surprise party when Atsushi was there the whole time, they still tried hard to make the common room into a bright and welcoming place, decorating it with things that the headmaster had bought just for the occasion. It looked beautiful.
Atsushi stared for a second in awe before taking his seat next to the others. Taking in the sweet smell of cake, vanilla frosting, and other sweets. His vision blurred with tears, he couldn’t quite tell if they were happy or sad, maybe something in-between, a soft, bittersweet feeling.
“Thank you,” he whispered. “You are all so kind.” His voice cracked as he spoke. Though the words were true, he himself didn’t quite believe them. Because why would he care for them after what they did to Lilya?
Atsushi watched in awe as the cake was placed in front of him; though there was something darker hidden in that feeling. At sushi swallowed attempting to calm his nerves before blowing the candles. He noticed as each flickered before their flame was replaced by a stream of smoke.
Noise erupted, a wave of cheers and clapping. Atsushi smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
His mind seemed to empty of any thoughts, just an endless void of nothing. The surrounding voices distorted, blending and fusing, echoing as it became quieter and quieter. His vision darkened.
His sight was filled only by a void, as if nothing was or ever would be, as if everything had ceased existing, even himself.
When he opened his eyes, he was met with a full moon. Wait, when did he close his eyes?
Its bluish light reflected on a vast landscape of stars. The empty field was barely illuminated by the moon; the grass was long and sharp. Atsushi stepped forward slowly; the grass scraped lightly against his legs, tickling him. He walks faster, faster, and faster until he is sprinting, the grass cutting through his skin, his breath coming out shallow and ragged.
He gasped in choked breaths. Inhaling deeply and exhaling shaken breaths. The surrounding field was warping, shifting, and pulsing into a vast inky ocean. The air turned thick as he gasped, his lungs filling with water.
He was drowning. Coughing and gasping, trying desperately to breathe, to only be met with resistance from his lungs.
His limbs flailed, his body convulsed, then stilled.
His body numb, his mind blank, his senses gone as though he never existed at all.
Then something broke in the boy and was replaced with something new, something fresh, a thing born of fear and desperation.