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“Emotional” was not a word anyone would think to describe X, not even the number one hero himself. But it seemed to be all he felt like after Smile died.
After his friend had been killed.
Every few nights, he’d wonder if the bearded hero would be coming over, until he remembered that Smile was gone.
Killed for no other reason but that he was deemed to be the best target for Dragonboy and Nice to rise in the rankings.
“I didn’t think you’d be lured out here! What an unexpected catch! Looks like getting into the top ten won’t be all I’m doing tonight!”
He would never be able to see his friend again. Smile would never show up to X’s house at night again in a creative disguise that X would tease, but secretly enjoyed seeing.
X wondered if some hero in the commission had the power to wrap rope around someone’s heart. It certainly felt like his was being wrung out dry.
Of course, he didn’t show it to anyone else. There was no reason to attract attention to his civilian self at work, and especially when he acted as Hero X. No reason to make people wonder about the current X’s relationship with the former X and reveal his identity to the public. Though he was sure the CEOs had already pieced things together.
People took pictures and videos as X gripped the necklace identical to the one that Smile held so dear.
He felt guilty for that, in a way. Smile deserved to be grieved by more than just X in the privacy of his home. As Smile’s good—and likely only true—friend, X should’ve used his platform to deliver some sort of eulogy about the hero. Given him some sort of comfort that his legacy will be preserved and remembered fondly, should the afterlife be real. Since, clearly, the public doesn’t remember how much Smile has helped them.
X buried his head in his hands, rubbing at his face. The two beer cans were empty, sitting next to the open box of skewers he’d got on a… whim? Longing? Wish for comfort?
Maybe all of the above.
Right now, he wished he had a stronger bottle to drown out the world around him. He toyed with the idea of snapping himself into the middle of the ocean — in the actual ocean that is, not just the surface — and just let himself be carried by the dark, opaque current.
He’d also been hungover that day. Maybe if he wasn’t, he could’ve gotten there faster. Maybe if he hadn’t fallen asleep and paid attention to Smile, he could’ve kept him safe. Walked him out– kept an eye out for dangers. If he were there, Nice wouldn’t have even needed to inject Fear into anyone– not that he should have a vial of Fear anyway. Maybe he could’ve helped Nice, too. Could’ve saved the man —boy, really— as well, despite his cruel actions.
Though he couldn’t say he didn’t resent Nice some days for accidentally causing Smile to be corrupted by Fear.
Nice’s anguished yelling and sobs echoed through the night. It was how X felt, but could not express. How ironic. Nice was the one with the insane boss who would be sure to punish Nice for this incident. He should be the one holding back tears from the audience, not X, who was essentially a vigilante with more freedom than all of the other heroes combined. Why did he need to continue the act? Just to protect his civilian identity from other civilians? To protect his image?
There really was no use in thinking about this further.
X knew that, logically, he couldn’t bring someone back from the dead — even his powers had their limits — nor would dwelling on the subject make him feel any better. But really, how could he not?
X picked up the last can of beer he had drunk and brought it to his mouth again, trying to see if there were any more drops left. To his disappointment, there were none. He tried the same thing with the first can to no avail. Sighing, he picked up a now-cold skewer and started chewing.
The ache and squeezing of his heart kept growing each day since Smile had died, until he was sure there must be a physical tear in it. Hell, he wanted to rip it out himself just to be rid of the pain.
Pinprick tastes of salt fell upon his tongue as he rolled his lips back to wet them.
He hadn’t even realized he was crying.
He wiped at his face and eyes, but the action was futile.
If only the citizens could see their “handsome and confident” hero now. What a joke.
God, he really fucking missed Smile. He’s never had beer and skewers by himself before. That’s always been Smile’s thing. Late-night talks over drinks and a snack, venting about things he couldn’t reveal to anyone else. Smile deserved a better friend than X, if he was really being honest with himself. He deserved to reconnect with his daughter.
Deserved the world, really. Smile lived up to his name, even though it was a burden to bear. He was a true hero, through and through. A ray of light on the darkest day, sunshine when it was freezing cold.
And it was cold without Smile around.
X scoffed to himself. Defy fate? He couldn’t even save his friend.
If anything, X deserved to die more than Smile.
Guess he was back to that.
Though he supposed it was better than the numbness he felt some days, when he couldn’t bring himself to care about anything at all. Those days felt like someone had wrapped him in aluminum and put him in an oven to cook slowly, the oven warming him and the aluminum keeping him blinded. Caged. A false sense of security. Days when he thought of Smile and knew that he should feel like he couldn't breathe, but instead, just felt a dull ache. Like his torn heart had been replaced with one of those foam ones. Artificial. Made to be squeezed without getting crushed.
Those days made him feel even guiltier for not being able to shed a tear for his lost comrade. He may wish to be rid of the pain, but not at the cost of undermining Smile’s importance in his life.
X tossed the dirty skewer sticks back into their box, all of them now bare and devoid of their meat. He hadn’t tasted the flavors, although the spicy kind that Smile liked left a burning sensation on his lips and tongue. Familiar. He had never cared for spice, but now, even it brought a semblance of closeness to his friend. He laid back on his couch, staring at the ceiling as the shadows of the room seemed to darken and encroach on his sight, despite the new lamp he had set next to the balcony doors. His ceiling started to morph and shift as more moisture popped into his eyes. He hadn’t accidentally snapped his fingers, had he?
His eyelids felt heavy as he rubbed at the new tears spilling out.
A part of him yelled for him to stay awake, that sleeping would bring nightmares; or worse, seeing a healthy Smile and losing him again when he awoke. Another part of him whispered that the chance of a blissful dream at least allowed him to see Smile again, to make sure he doesn’t forget Smile’s genuine, smiling face from when they were together, or the emotions Smile wore when talking about the memories he had of his daughter. Besides, nightmares couldn’t be worse than letting his mind continue to run around and power whatever was choking his heart.
X still had work the next day anyway. He needed whatever rest he could get, given how bad he slept nowadays too.
He didn’t even have the energy to snap away his trash before he closed his eyes. He couldn’t care less that he would be sore the next day from sleeping in a suit, on his couch.