Chapter Text
Toge knew he was different. If he was normal then why cage him? Why do they strap the muzzle so tight he can’t breathe without his jaw screaming in agony? If he was normal, they wouldn’t drag him out of his room and force him to train until the tatami mats were so soiled that they squelched and spat blood whenever he tried to move.
He wants to be normal. He wants so badly to be like his cousins, the ones he’s only seen glimpses of at family dinners where his face was veiled and relatives stared and whispered. He hated those dinners. While his cousins, younger and older, laughed and played and sung and danced he was sat at the head of the table, face obscured by large hoods and a thick veil, trying to hold back his tears because why couldn’t he have that? (He knew why he couldn’t have that, a third of his clan hated him, another third was scared of him, the last third worshiped and praised him like some sort of god).
If he behaved at those dinners though, he would get a reward. He would be allowed to roam the gardens outside of the main estate for up to an hour. The gardens were beautiful, they were shielded by a tall, intricate fence that was painted black. Rows and rows of flowers, fruits and vegetables lined the outside, each splash of colour working together perfectly, mesmerising any that would walk past. In the centre was a corn field made of a certain type of corn. Chiapas, the caregivers called it. It was tall and didn’t really look like corn, instead it had long sticky outy leaves that were a vivid green and stood out against the onslaught of bright hues from the flowers. Overall, the landscape was picturesque. He loved those times, when he would play in the grass, water the flowers and climb trees. He was even allowed to talk then! Only when his current caregiver had finally realised he wasn’t going to try to escape and left him alone though.
But he hated going back to his room after spending time in the gardens. White walls that seemed to stretch forever, mirrors on the ceiling and a small, hard mattress that was hardly different to sleeping on the floor. The worst part though, was the collar that was put on when he was dragged back into his room, the collar that would send shocks through his spine whenever he did something ‘wrong’. Electric jolts that left the back of his neck scalding hot and had him gasping for air that wouldn’t come because of the stupid muzzle that he had to wear almost all the time. Honestly he still thinks it was just the higher ups of the Inumaki clan fucking with him. The collar did help sometimes though, if he didn’t have it, he probably would have gone crazy and killed his caregivers. It kind of helped him not fall into the abyss of his own thoughts, though not for long, but maybe it helped by letting him know that he was still alive, still there. He read something about sensory deprivation - wait, was that what the collar was for, to stop him from going insane, give him something to feel? Huh.
Maybe without the collar he would have had far more punishments. So he supposes he should be at least a little grateful even if the constant shocks gave him scars across the back of his neck. After all, the punishments were far worse.
The first time he was properly ‘punished’, he was 5 years old (or was he 6? He lost track of time before the collar, and that was given when he was 8) he had accidentally cursed one of his caregivers, nothing major, just a small, weak command of ‘stop’ when they tried to pull his hair to force him to look at them. But of course it worked, the man (woman? He honestly can’t remember) was short and frail, clearly very weak. That was the first time he remembers accidentally cursing someone, all the other times were in training. Then he was dragged away from his room, screaming, crying, throwing every command he could think of to get them to stop. But 5 year old Toge stood no chance against the clans higher ups, and every command he yelled was rebound back at him. By the time he was half way down the first hallway he could do nothing but struggle weakly in the elders hold and throw up blood. They hauled him through so many hallways he lost count and only stopped in front a large metal door, quickly unlocking it.
He was hurled across the floor, and landed on his hands and knees in front of an ofuro, one far less luxurious than he had seen in the bathhouses. He can’t really remember what it looked like, only that it was filled to the brim with water and ice. Then there were hands in his hair (ironic, the very thing that started it) that shoved his face into the water. His body screamed at him to leave, but the most he could do was violently jerk around and fruitlessly attempt to pull his head out. Cold encapsulated his face, the chunky ice terribly uncomfortable against his small cheeks, pressing in painfully and only making it somehow more freezing. As fast as the cold had arrived, it dissipated into a chilling numbness and he could no longer feel anything above the collar. They held him there until he had no oxygen left in his lungs, until black spots danced around the edge of his field of vision and he thought ‘this is it, they’ve had enough of me, I’m going to die here’. Then the hands brutally yanked his face up and all he could do was gasp for air that wouldn’t come. Everyone in the room was hurling insults at him, but their voices blurred together in his haze of trying to get his respiratory system working again. He couldn’t take it anymore. He felt his consciousness slowly leaving his body as he failed to breathe. His body went limp and he collapsed onto the floor. When he woke up, he was back in his room and the muzzle was tighter than before.
After that, the ‘disciplining’ became more frequent, and more unique. From having boiling water pored down his throat, to more ice baths, to true sensory deprivation, more constant shocks, a few beatings, he had even been held to the wall by chains while being whipped once or twice, toge had been through a lot of punishments.
But the worst part? The worst part was the training.
It was daily for one, no matter what he had gone through the day or night before, he was forced to train. It was brutal, torture disguised as training. His instructor forcefully pushed his body far beyond its limits. And the most annoying part? No matter how much he trained his physical body, he was always lean and short. He built up good muscle, sure, but his stature wasn’t exactly as scary and intimidating as the higher ups wanted it to be. He always had pretty small shoulders and a lean, thin torso. He was about average height and build, perhaps slightly smaller, the higher ups hated it. They tried everything they could but he just couldn’t build up physical strength. Though he made up for it in his flexibility, speed, and reflexes (and stamina, but everyone has good stamina right?) he was a whirl of movement, constantly flipping, jumping off walls and throwing his small, handheld knives around the room. He actually got really good at using these handheld knives, apparently they used to belong to his… grandma? Mother? Aunt? He can’t remember but it was definitely a female relative.
But that was just his physical training. His cursed speech training was arguably worse. He was dragged out of his room for cruel, savage training that would result in him passing out almost every time of exhaustion, his throat so painfully raw that no matter what he did, it felt like sandpaper was clawing away at his throat, even if he stayed completely still, not even breathing, he couldn’t escape the pain.
Developing his actual cursed technique was unpleasant as he hated putting someone through that. It still unsettles him. Reaching into someone’s body and forcing them to obey your command? It’s a strange thing to even think about. But he had been using his curse since he was a child, no, a baby and knew what it felt like and how to control it. He got really good at getting people to obey him when he wanted, unfortunately, that also means that people obey him even when he doesn’t want them to. He can’t turn his curse off, and so, he created a new language, one made of purely rice ball ingredients. It helped him communicate with his instructors, teachers and caregivers.
Then there was the ‘spiritual’ training, learning how to control his cursed energy through ancient techniques known only to Inumakis. That was where extreme meditation and sensory deprivation helped him get through it. He can’t remember much of this, but that’s because he’s not supposed to. He was trained through muscle memory, and the instructions were written instead of memorised.
So yeah, all in all, growing up as a cursed speech user in the inumaki clan kind of sucked.
Which is why, as soon as he was given the chance, he ran.
———
Toge looked back on that day often. It was one of the best days of his life after all! He remembers it like it was yesterday.
He had thought about escaping so many times over the years, but he had to be patient and wait for the perfect time. When that time arrived, he dashed for the exit.
He was 13 years old , and had just come back from his barbaric training so was sore all over, all the silvete wanted to do was lay in his bed-not bed-mattress thing and sleep to restore his energy for the next day. But, of course, the caregiver had to muzzle him. This time it was a tall woman with a ‘holier than thou’ attitude who was probably part of the clan that hated him. After all, she looked about ready to gut him alive. But thats where the normal ended. Unlike any other day, she was the only person there, normally Toge could hear breathing and quiet murmurs from guards stationed outside of his room. (Because for some reason there were always guards around his room, he doubts any of his cousins have guards around their rooms.) But this time there was nothing. The woman must have sensed his confusion or been warned or something (after all, toge always made sure to keep a carefully deadpan and somewhat bored expression) because she seemed to understand his confusion.
“There’s some kind of cursed spirit raid going on right now” she answered quietly, clearly not wanting to talk to him “basically everyone is off fighting them” and wow she should not have told him that.
By now, his new language was common knowledge between his caregivers so he responded “salmon roe?” To which she gave a nod of confirmation.
He strained his ears (he heard whispers among the guards saying that he had exceptional hearing) and, indeed, heard very faint grunts and a bit of swords clashing.
He thought, for just a moment, about escaping but ultimately decided that it was just too risky. Tall women had already picked up his muzzle and was busy clanking screws together. Too busy to hear the echoing stomps from down the hallway. But Toge heard it. Immediately getting into a defensive position, the albino glared at the door.
In walked the most disgusting thing he had ever seen. The smell hit him first, putrid and revolting, assaulting his nostrils. At the time, he didn’t know what it smelt like, but now he knows that it was reminiscent of an open wound that had been left for too long, one that had infected and began to rot. The thing itself was grotesque. It was large and green with big veins that bulged out of its skin running across its entire body. The thing's eyes were titanic, stretched so wide they looked like saucers and the veins running through were noticeable even from afar. The irises were neon yellow and looked radioactive with the contrast of the x painted on top. It was wrapped in layers and layers of….arms? Yes those were arms. They wrapped around it in circles, encasing the beast like armour, one was wrapped protectively around its neck. Was it protecting the neck from something? No matter, not like it will matter to Toge where it’s weak spots are. It’s hands and arms were unnaturally long and spindly. Some were clawing away at its own skin in frustration, digging deep enough to draw blood and carve indents into its own flesh. The others were reaching. Reaching for tall woman.
Toge acted in the way he had been taught.
“EXPLODE”
And explode it did. Thick layers of blood stained the white walls, smeared because the thing tried to resist, but was no match for the silvete. It screamed, horrible and gut wrenching, the sound echoed in his ears so loud he had to cover them in defence. It was a sound he still sometimes heard. Hands lay splattered around the room still reaching, before they too exploded, splattering more and more as each tiny explosion went off. Thick streaks of crimson caked the walls and painted a horrific mural across his once pristine white walls and floor. Toge could hear squelching and dripping all across the room. Thick sludge gradually made its way down the walls, the plump chunks hardly recognisable as organs anymore with how thoroughly they had been destroyed. Each drip sent shivers down his spine, it had him looking around the room in paranoia, sure that another curse was about to emerge and attack.
He looked back at tall woman, she sat in the corner, eyes wide staring right at Toge. Her eyes seemed to bulge out of their sockets, and he could clearly see that they were red rimmed and puffy- probably crying out of fear. A single tear escaped. She looked horrified. No. Terrified. She was mumbling something. Something about Toge? He definitely heard his name, and something about 2? Maybe something about grades and yeah he heard curse. He’s not really sure what she’s on about, but he realised that he doesn’t really care.
Slowly, so so slowly he stepped into the open hallway, and stared at the doors he knew would lead outside.
And ran.
Even during his training, toge had never run so fast in his life. He was sprinting down the hall that seemed to stretch forever. It’s never been this long before, so why is it now? When he finally made it past the barrier, he continued to race through the forest that surrounded the Inumaki estate.
He only stopped once. At the mini arena he sometimes trained at. He dashed for the underwhelming shed that stood to the side and picked the lock keeping the door attached (yes he knows how to pick locks, it was one of the first things he was taught). He entered slowly and hesitantly, not really sure of what he was looking for yet. Not long later, he felt it. The unmistakable cursed energy that surrounds his handheld knives. The ones imbued with his own cursed energy and yet were a separate part of him, giving them a completely unique feel. Without hesitation, he opened the small drawer and snatched the small leather casing out. Only once he was outside did he check and, like always, there were his 6 small handheld knives. With his treasures acquired, he continued sprinting further into the woods.
Eventually he made his way to a battleground (One of many he assumed, with the spirit raid and all that). There weren't that many soldiers there, but there were a lot of curses. The silvete wouldn’t yet know, but these curses were around grade 2 in strength, not unlike the hand thing he had exploded earlier.
Toge dashed into action, taking a protective stance in front of the fallen soldiers, he made sure that no other soldiers (the few that could still stand) were in front of him and would be caught it the crossfire.
He took a careful, deep breath and screeched,
“DISINTEGRATE”
The curses instantly decayed away into ash and fluttered into the night sky, slowly withering until none remained.
Every soldier stood motionless, stunned at the display of power coming from a 13 year old child. While Toge hurried forward, further into the forest.
He stopped after a few minutes, admiring the view. Never once had he been allowed outside at night. But here he is, escaping under the comforting blanket of darkness. It looked ethereal. The bright, sunny forest where he had -sometimes been allowed to- play in as a child was stunning under the moon's unearthly glow. It hallowed the small patches of rosy hydrangeas and reflected off of their petals ravishingly. Making them seem otherworldly. Thin beams of moonlight broke through the trees thick canopy, creating the illusion of the heavens opening (13 year old Toge couldn’t think of anything else to describe how beautiful it looked). When he escaped the cover of the trees and made his way to a clearing, he quite literally stopped breathing. Stars were dotted around the vast expanse of sky. The inky darkness seemed to stretch on forever, marvelling the silvete. Each star twinkled with a dazzling glow, illuminating the large expanse of black. The most striking part however, was the large moon that floated above the tree line. It was strikingly beautiful, a unique crescent shape, pearly in colour and seemed to watch over the forest like some kind of deity. The stars encompassing it blinked and flickers like some kind of light show. It was mesmerising.
Toge was dragged out of his thoughts by almost silent footsteps - footsteps so quiet that even Toge struggled to hear them. He dove out of the way just in time to avoid being tackled to the ground by a soldier who looked up at him in fury.
By the time he landed on the grass he was already surrounded.
Immediately preparing for another battle, he strained his ears and listened, only two of the men were talking so he heard their conversation perfectly.
“How did he even get out?”
“We’re not sure, Rin was already passed out by the time we found her.”
“Damn. Well then why are we after him? Surely we have to kill the curse responsible, there’s even a few first grades out right now.”
“Are you stupid? He’s obviously more dangerous than a grade one.”
“Hes a child, how can that be?”
“Do you not see the snake marks and fangs? He's the cursed speech user.”
Toge didn’t need to hear anymore.Quickly, he inhaled deep and murmured.
“Sleep”
In a matter of seconds, every guard collapsed. The general stayed strong though and managed to mutter out a very, very weak “Should have killed it as a child” before he too went motionless.
Without hesitation, the silvete hoisted himself skywards using a branch, landing gracefully on the side of a tree trunk.
And ran.
He leaped and flipped his way rapidly making it through the forest by jumping tree to tree. The burn in his throat was manageable, so he ignored it. Once there were no more trees, he nimbly landed in the grass and continued running.
He can’t remember how long he ran for, just that by the time he got his thoughts back in order, the cold was embedded deep into his bones, biting at his ears ruthlessly, so ruthlessly he could no longer feel them. That can’t be good. Looking down at his hands, the silvete realised he had crescent shaped indents in his palms, smearing thick blood down his hands and staining his trousers crimson. He slowed his mindless running into a light jog, and continued until he made his way to an abandoned school. It had clearly been heavily neglected for years, not a soul had stepped into its premises for a long time. No matter, it will do for a night.
Toge found the warmest room he could, the nurse’s office, and snuggled into one of the cold, damp beds that creaked every time he moved an inch. That was the best sleep of the albino’s life.
———
When he awoke, he had warmed up considerably, no longer did he feel the bone-chilling frostiness he had felt the day prior. Instead, he felt another bone-chilling sensation.
Cursed energy. Probably a powerful curse.
Toge isn’t one to seek out trouble, but when his temporary home is in danger, he has no choice but to defend.
So, he went looking for it (stupid, he knows).
He followed the cursed energy, making his way through countless hallways and corridors, eventually finding that the gym was the source.
The silvete quietly crept inside, landing his lavender eyes on the curse that was mutilating some poor child’s corpse.
He sighed and inched his way closer to the abomination. He took an unhurried breath and spoke,
“Get crushed”
The command did its job, the spirit pulverised and pressed in on itself, slightly twisting in the process.
But Toge had pushed himself too far (the albino would later learn that this had been a special grade curse, so yes he had pushed far beyond his limits).
His throat convulsed, thick streaks of crimson spilled from his lips, cascading down his shirt like a waterfall. Rivulets of blood splurged out of his mouth, staining his teeth red in the process, he gurgled and spat mutilating his throat even more before doubling over in an intense coughing fit. Iron overwhelmed his taste buds, making him spit more out, hoping to ease the pain. He hackled into the ground, he may have bruised his lips with how hard they had smashed into the concrete, but he couldn’t care less. All he could focus on was his shredded esophagus, the way it shuddered and jerked every time he tried to move. It throbbed uncontrollably, and Toge elevated his head in an attempt to breath, eventually he ran out of air, and with now coagulated blood staining his shirt and still dripping from his mouth, his eyes rolled back and he fell into the not so comforting embrace of unconsciousness.