Chapter Text
He sits in the hot, grainy sand, watching the salty water lap up on the shore. The sun beats down on his neck, warming up the skin beneath his hairline. The moment was serene, too calm. He opened his right eye and saw a freckled, green-haired lifeguard running towards him, waving.
“Shinso!” The shrill voice yelled, joy filling the air surrounding him.
His sandals clap against his feet as he jogs toward the monotonous man. The sand hit by his shoes flies up, gently hitting the skin of his legs. The green-haired male stopped in front of Shinso, skidding to a stop, spraying the hot and grainy sand towards the latter’s face. Shinso spat the sand out of his mouth, clearing the area of dirt. He looks up, glaring at the freckled lifeguard.
“Ah! Sorry.. I didn’t mean to stop that fast.” The lifeguard rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. A wary smile forms itself as he rubs his neck.
Shinso shakes his head and stands up, brushing the sand off. “It’s fine. Why do you need me, Izuku?” The fluffy-headed man says, sighing, already tired of the interaction.
Izuku gasped, remembering why he was over there in the first place. “Oh! Yeah, I’m telling everyone at the beach not to go over to Gloomshade. There has been a sighting of a monster near the cove. No one’s allowed over there till it’s cleared.” He says with gusto, feeling like a hero.
Shinso eyed him up, Izuku's smile beamed like the sun burning down on them. The taller male rolled his eyes, picking up his towel and shaking the sand off. He groaned, glancing over to the lifeguard.
“Okay? I wasn’t planning to go over there anyway.” Shinso says, like it’s an obvious fact.
Izuku sighs, too used to the sarcasm. “Well, I'm required to tell everyone on the beach before we put up signs. Speaking of, I have to get back to that, bye Shinso!” The green-haired man jogged away, kicking sand up again as he moved his legs.
Shinso rolled up his towel, gathered his chocos, and walked to his 2009 Subaru Outback. He tossed the towel into his backseat and started the car. The engine sputtered to life, rumbling the car. He set the car to drive and made his way home. The radio station played “oldies”, like Weezer and Nirvana.
As he drove, he thought of what Izuku had said. The thought built up in his brain, piling words onto one another. The words raised a heavy mountain, weighing down his thoughts. “..a monster..”. His fingers thump against the steering wheel, beating along with the rhythm of the radio. He grunted, “monster…” came out, mumbled under his breath. He zoned into the word, monster. The word consumed him like a black ichor. It's slimy, shadowy tendrils wrapped around his limbs, pulling him deeper into the letters. Shinso zoned out, driving absentmindedly, before a honk forcibly hauled him out of the void. He was riding between lanes.
“Oh shit!” he exclaimed, jerking his wheel so his car would be in the right lane. His chest heaved, expelling air out of his lungs and quickly collecting it again, and again, and again. He turned on his blinker, turning into an indoor parking garage. He drove up a level and parked, his tires slightly over the line. Shinso took his keys out, removing the rumbling life from the car as he hopped out. His chocos hit the concrete, leaving a small trail of sand as he walked back to his apartment, forgetting his towel in the car.
He walks up the stairs, climbing the incline. Each step is a haul up a mountain. He climbs the stairs, making it to his floor. He opens the industrial-sounding door, like a portal into an apartment building. He turns left and struts a few doors down until he reaches his home. By now, the sun is setting. His roommate would be in his room or at the library. He sighs as he puts the key into its slot and turns it, effectively unlocking the door. The door creaks open, alerting all those in the house of his arrival.
Shinso walks in and shuts the door behind him. He sighs and kicks off the chocos, half enclosing his feet. As he performs this action, his tuxedo cat trots up to him, the bell around his neck jingling. The cat meows, a shrill and loud scream, a quick demand for food. Shinso sighs and shakes his head.
“Alright, but let me get a drink first..” He mumbles, staring down at the cat. The cat stares back, big black orbs glistening in the light, looking like a poor orphan child.
He and the cat walk to the kitchen; the cat swerves in between Shinso’s feet as he walks the few steps it takes to get from the entry to the kitchen. He reaches up into the cabinet to reach the dry kibble. Shinso grabs the bag, the cat jumps up onto the counter, and meows loudly.
“Calm down, Al. I’ve got it for you.” He sighs, the bag tips over in his hand, kibble falling into the cat’s food bowl. Al ran over to the bowl and started munching on the dry food.
Shinso shook his head. “Silly cat.” He set the bag down and looked into the freezer for a snack. He plucks out a hot pocket, peeling the plastic wrapping off and tossing the pocket in the microwave. The microwave gets set to the specific time and is started. Once enough time passes for the pocket to “cook”, it is taken out to be eaten by our wonderful protagonist.
“Aw fuck!” The hot pocket burns Shino’s mouth. The exclamation scares the fat cat, and it stumbles away. Shinso rushes to his freezer, grabs some ice, and places the hot pocket in there to cool it down.
Shinso walks to the living room plopping himself down onto the couch. He groans and flips himself over to stare at the television. The reflective black screen shows his reflection staring right back at him. A monotone expression of depression and lost dreams stares back at him. A mirror of his own internal conflict.
The screen starts to get bigger, soon being all he can look at. The darkness of the screen wraps around his mind, being close a pit of black tar. Or a hole of despair.
The black hole of despair swallowed him whole. Shinso swam in the tar; it stuck to his skin, gripping and holding him tight. Binding him to his guilt and regrets. No matter how much he struggled, he couldn’t free himself. The physical struggle mirrored his mental ones. He screamed and shouted for help, but the tar flooded his mouth. It ran down his throat, choking him till he was forced into silence. Shinso sputters up the thick, hot, dark molasses. He tries to keep it from hardening in his throat, but the pain is inevitable. Eventually, he gave in, sinking into the horrible, conquering liquid.
Sitting in the slowly cooling syrup, he felt himself become immovable. The hardening tar encases him, imprisoning the poor boy in his own pity. Forever trapping him in a never ending cycle.
His final act of good-byes is just out of reach. His hand stuck up into the air, reaching out in case anyone were to save him.
Shinso looked up; a blinding, yellow light shone in his eyes. A long arm reached towards him. He grasped onto the hand. It hauled him out of the tar, pulling him from the harsh clasp. When he awakened from his nightmarish slumber, he was gasping for air. Al stood on his chest, staring as if he hadn't just been swimming in his depression.
The hand had been a staple of the dream. It was as if it were made of soft angelic skin. But, it was kinda scaly and… slimy. Almost fishy? Like a human mixed with fish. A perfish…?
Shinso shook his head clear of the thought. It wasn't important. He glances over at the kitchen, looking at the oven clock. 11:30 pm. He fell asleep for 6 hours. His roommate should be home by now. He gets up and walks down the apartment’s single hallway, past his roommate’s room. The light was on, and there was some high pitched giggling coming from inside. Of course he had a girl over. Just like every other night.
Deciding not to dwell on the romantic decisions his roommate makes, Shinso continues to trot down the hall. The short distance it takes to get to his room feels empty and cold. Once he opens his door, he slips into some pajamas and slinks into bed. The covers feel like warm arms wrapping around him and protecting him like the fishy angel arm cushioning Shinso from the horrors of his mind.