Work Text:
Suga, surprisingly, wakes up. Last thing he remembers, he was in the woods, crying, shaking in his cousin's arms, praying to never wake up.
The world couldn’t even accept his dying wish. The world had always been cruel to him.
Something was strange, though. It wasn’t himself. It was as if a parasite had infected his body, bringing a limp doll to life.
It moved arms that didn’t belong to it, thought with a brain that wasn’t his to begin with. It was inhabiting the shell of someone who had died a long, long time ago.
Did the parasite make the body a person again? Or was it still pliant, malleable, a doll to be moved by whatever infected it?
It didn’t know what it was, but it wasn’t Suga Syoujirou.
“Confused?”
It turned its head to the left. Izamaru Anaki was perched on a bench next to it.
The thing he was looking at had no head. It was probably still there, it was just static, a blur where her head should have been.
“…You have no head.”
Anaki sighed, moving to lean closer.
“Having trouble seeing faces? You’ll get used to it.”
It thought, again. It thought of Mitosis, separation, the fragments of a whole. It thought of loss, of loneliness, of incompletion.
Why had she separated again? Why was Suga another one of her dolls, played with for a rabbit’s ridiculous fantasy?
“Why do you do this to yourself?”
Anaki blinked behind her glasses. It wasn’t aware that they could do that.
“Please clarify, Suga.”
“Don’t call me that. I’m not him. Why do you keep separating yourself?”
Its mind was splitting, diverting, cut into two, three, so many parts that it couldn’t think.
It, it, it. What even was it?
“…You’ve separated yourself so many times, Monomoko. When does it stop?”
She sighed, pushing her glasses up.
“I’m leaving, Suga. Please go about your tasks as usual. Don’t let them suspect anything.”
She left in an instant, teleporting in a way that was all too familiar.
It didn’t understand anything. Everything was familiar, strange, weird to it, and second nature. If it truly was another fraction of Monomoko, why was it so different? Why could it think for itself? Wasn’t it a hive mind?
It wasn’t real. It didn’t exist. It didn’t deserve to call itself Suga, the name of a real person.
It wasn’t allowed to be anything other than an ‘It’, a parasite, a possessed doll.