Work Text:
As many children do, Shikuro excitedly waited for his quirk. He waited until the average age of five. Although slightly late, it was still worth waiting for.
( Or was it? He… is unsure. )
During class, when the teacher called on him to answer a question, he felt a ping. Like… a notification in his head that someone was looking at him. The information sat there, letting him know that the teacher was still watching him.
And more people looked, more pings alerted him, until he answered the question. Then, all of that faded. It was gone as the class resumed.
Shikuro was ecstatic.
.
When his parents picked him up ( Ping. Ping. ) that day Shikuro was practically jumping off the walls with his discovery. His dad picked him up and animatedly talked together. His mom threw in a few quips and jokes as she drove.
And just like that, he was at the registration building. It was mandatory to register your quirk after all.
With the comfort of his mother’s hand on his shoulder, Shikuro wasn’t afraid of the doctors like he normally would be. He might’ve had a fear of needles… but that wasn’t important because he’s a big boy now.
“Now, Mr. Ito, could you try and describe your quirk to me?”
Inescapably, without any reason, a LOUD bang rang in his head. There was only one thing that Shikuro instinctively knew it meant. ‘ Do not tell the truth! ’
So, with his gut rolling, he told the man that he had a thing in his head that could tell if someone was lying.
The doctor asked how he could tell. He said that there was this ping that told him. The doctor asked if the ping changed any, with the type of lie. Shikuro shrugged.
“Mr. Ito, please describe what you feel when I’m done speaking. The sky is cloudless.” The doctor said,
A quiet
tap
. ‘
The sky is cloudless.
’
And so, Shikuro answered.
The appointment continued in this manner.
.
Late at night, Shikuro sniffled. He never wanted to lie! But it felt like if he didn’t, then a thousand snakes would constrict his heart and lungs.
He was afraid.
.
The next evening, when he pretends to take a nap, he hears yelling.
Though muffled, the emotions come clear to Shikuro.
A tap. ‘ Anger. Confusion. Betrayal. Shock. Grief. Disappointment. ’
After the screams, the pain, the pure sadness was over, his mother came and sat on his bed. (A ping ). With a gentle hand, she brushed through his hair. With nails gently scratching his scalp, he was lulled to sleep.
.
“Hey, Mom, I’ll be home late!” Shikuro, now in junior high, shouted to the kitchen as he put his shoes on. Tugging his bag on, he was about ready to leave.
“Alright, I’ll leave leftovers in the fridge for you!”
Now ready, he left for school.
.
Without his dad, him and his mom struggled. At the time, he never understood why his dad left, just that he did. Though he did have a small paranoid voice in his head that echoed a fear. That Dad left because Shikuro lied to the doctor, lied to Mom, lied to him.
But that was impossible for him to figure out.
As Shikuro grew older, he realized that it was because his dad thought Mom cheated. He knew that Mom would never do such a thing, but Dad apparently didn’t have that trust…
So maybe it was a good thing he left. If he didn’t trust Mom enough to believe her, then Shikuro is glad he left.
( Ping. )
Turning his head, Shikuro politely waved to his neighbor as he stepped out of his apartment.
“Good morning.”
.
Sometimes, he didn’t trust his quirk. He knew that it told the truth. But then..
Why have his five-year-old self lie to the doctor? What was so dangerous about telling the truth? Why have him wary of eating certain food? Why did he have to do all these extra things because it was “dangerous ”?
Why did he hear pings when there shouldn’t be?
It didn’t make sense then and it doesn’t make sense now.
The school bell rang signaling the first period.
.
( Ping. )
An arm plopped itself on his shoulder. “Hey, dude! Still up for the arcade after school, right?” His friend, Denki, grinned at him.
“Of course! Do you know how long I’ve been waiting to beat you in—”
( Ping. )
A cough, “Mr. Kaminari, since you seem so eager to talk, why don’t you share the answer to number five?” The teacher glared at them through her glasses, lips downturned in a stern frown.
Before Shikuro fully “immerses” himself in the math sheet in front of him, he heard Denki mumble a quick prayer.
Stifling his giggles, he started doodling in the corner of the paper.
.
As they were exiting the arcade, Shikuro’s stomach rolled and twisted in an uncomfortable knot. His quirk didn’t need to rear its ugly head for him to have a bad feeling.
With practiced ease, he manages a smile when he turns to Denki. “Hey, do you think I could stay the night? I wanna show you how much I improved at Infestation.”
His friend rubs the back of his neck, “Sorry, dude, but my parents are out of town so I can’t bring anyone over. You can show me over the weekend though!”
A strained chuckle exits his throat like a rock through a grater, “Of course! I’ll make sure to kick your butt next time.”
When they separated, both were clearly hesitant. Shikuro had a horrible gut feeling, while Denki picked up his friend's anxious mood. But there was nothing either of them could do.
There was nothing he could do.
Except for running. Running far away.
.
His palms were sweaty as he grabbed the doorknob. With a fast beating heart, the knob slowly opened to reveal… a completely normal living room. The same one he left just this morning. Nothing was out of place. Shuffling on quiet feet, Shikuro glanced around the kitchen. Nothing.
Letting out a breath, Shikuro disregarded the horrible feeling as useless. There wasn’t anything wrong after all.
He watched as the bowl of leftovers spun in the microwave. 45 seconds. 43 seconds. 39 seconds.
Ping.
Goosebumps raked his arms. He quickly, quietly looked around. No one.
He shook his head, another false alarm.
With a beep, the microwave’s light vanished.
While cradling the warmth of his dinner, Shikuro made his way to his room, only pausing to grab his water.
As he ate on his bed, he watched random videos that Denki sent him. He could tell it was to hopefully raise his mood, Shikuro appreciated it.
The Kami Denki: D:
The Kami Denki: that poor dood
The Kami Denki: didn’t even see it coming
Sherlock: ikr!
Sherlock: I found this show about chess
Sherlock: wanna call and make fun of the characters
The Kami Denki: nah
The Kami Denki: kinda late tbh
Sherlock: true, we can do it tomorrow anyways
Sherlock: gn
The Kami Denki: gn
As Shikuro was about to click off messages, he felt sweat trickle down his neck.
Ping.
He was wary. He trusted his quirk, yet questioned it at the same time.
But, even with its supposed false alarms every now and then, to alert him almost consistently every night? That was stretching it
Tonight was different. The notification faded after only a minute, unlike how it would usually disappear long after he was asleep.
Feeling unease crawl down his spine, Shikuro shifted in bed with a nervous energy that wouldn’t leave.
Light footsteps tapped in the hallway, stopping in front of his door. He watched, with bated breath, as the knob turned. The door slowly swung open with his mom stepping inside.
( Ping. )
Releasing his tension, Shikuro smiled at her. What was he so worried about?
She smiled softly at him, “Why are you still up at this hour? Do I have to take your phone?” She gracefully walked over to him, sitting herself on the edge of his bed.
She plucked the phone right out of his hands. Shikuro playfully whined as she set it on his nightstand.
With a gentle hand, she cradled his check. She rubbed right under his eye, “Oh, what did I do to deserve you?”
He closed his eyes, ready to go to sleep before he felt something different in the air.
His mom, with an odd look, stared at him, while continuing to rub beneath his eye. She continued to gaze at him, with unblinking, loving eyes. Her smile begins to take a predatory edge to it as she continued to stare, unrelenting.
A soft whisper of a ping. ‘ Get out. ’
But even that couldn’t warn him as she leans down. Her hand, which rested against his cheek, traveled down. He felt the phantom touch of it go from his chin to his neck to his chest to his hips to…
…
He’s scared.
.
The next morning, Mom greeted him ( Ping ) with a happy smile when he walked downstairs. “Hello sweetheart! Breakfast is on the table.” She turns back around to rummage through the fridge.
With a heavy heart, Shikuro sat down robotically and ate.
His body felt too hot and cold at the same time. His puffy eyes itched and his dry eyes blurred. Her touch lay just beneath his skin, the feeling not leaving.
He felt like he needed a shower, but he already had one. He felt like he needed to clean every millimeter of skin, but it was already rubbed raw. He felt like he needed to run, but he couldn’t.
“I’m leaving..” Shikuro swiftly tugged his shoes on and snatched his bag before shutting the door.
( Ping.)
His neighbor stood there watching. He felt their eyes bore through him, like they knew. How could they know? There’s no way…
The neighbor smiled, “Good morning.”
They didn’t know.
.
Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping.
They have to know. He felt his throat close, they know. He could feel their eyes stare at him. Please! Stop staring! Please.. he can’t take it.
.
“Hey, Shikuro, you good?” Denki goes to put an arm on his shoulders. He flinched. Denki immediately stopped. “Shikuro?”
Shuddering, he felt his stomach twist, “I… I’m sorry, I have to go.”
With that, he quickly ran out of the room.
.
His knees banged into the tile as he fell. He gripped the toilet as his breakfast and lunch came out in chunks. The acid burned his throat on the way up. And when he sniffles, he can smell and feel the acid in his nose. The taste stuck to his tongue as he continued to heave. He felt his stomach twist and shrink whenever the half dissolved food left his mouth.
Closing the lid, Shikuro rested his head on the cool surface. Breathe in, breathe out. In 1, 2, 3, 4. Hold 1, 2, 3, 4. Out 1, 2, 3, 4. Repeat.
Eventually, he calmed down enough to flush it and go to the sink. He bent down to rinse his mouth out, the taste not ever gone. Having given up on ridding his tongue of the acid, he stared at his face.
His once thoroughly brushed brown hair was in disarray. His eyebrows were furrowed. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy. His pupils were blown wide, he was barely able to tell that his irises were blue. His nose had snot dripping out. His lips were pressed thin. The skin, which was normally pale, was as white as snow with sickly green undertones.
Shikuro was tired.
.
A day. Two days. Three days.
A week. Two weeks. Three weeks.
A month. Two months. Three months.
.
For six whole months, Shikuro has been quiet. Fearful, anxious, and afraid.
For six months, he has not told anyone.
For six months, he has endured alone.
It felt like an eternity.
.
With spiders crawling in his bones, Shikuro rang the doorbell.
“One minute please!”
To lessen his nerves, he started to scratch at his arm. His already pink skin became red in irritation. He felt the skin get caught underneath his nail, it created an uncomfortable feeling. However, it wasn’t nearly as terrible as…
He continued to scratch.
( Ping. )
He flinched.
Looking at the door, Shikuro noticed a peephole. Oh, that makes sense.
Immediately the door swung open, “Ito! It’s been too long.” Denki’s mom stood there, long blonde hair curling around her shoulders. Her hazel eyes were bright against her pale complexion.
She put her hand in between his shoulder blades (he shivered) and led him to the living room. Denki sat on the floor, playing games on the tv. When he noticed Shikuro ( Ping. ), he pounced up, “Shikuro! Are you okay? I, I thought you were mad at me..”
He rubbed the spot where he scratched, “Sorry, can we talk later? I need to tell your mom something.”
Denki visibly faltered but went up to his room regardless.
When Mrs. Kaminari returned ( Ping.) , she was surprised at the lack of her son. She took it in stride though, “You’re not going to Denki’s room?”
He continued to rub at that one spot, “Sorry, could we talk?”
“If it’s about Denki’s grades, I’m aware.” She lightly laughed.
Despite flinching, Shikuro tried to explain. There was a lump in his throat that made it hard to breathe, let alone speak. It constricted his lungs, heart, and tongue, keeping it in tight metal bands. In the very back of his mouth, he could taste that putrid acid.
“..elp..”
Mrs. Kaminari’s eyebrows scrunched up, “Huh? Could you repeat that? I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you.”
Shikuro’s eyes watered and his teeth ground together. Picking up the courage he’s been scavenging these past months, he squared his shoulders. He stared at her forehead (he wasn’t that brave yet) and took his hand away from the bloody patch on his arm.
With a timid but steady voice, he prepared his heart.
“Please help me.”