"Have you ever had any suicidal thoughts or actions?"
"Yes."
"For how long?"
"...years? I don't remember ever not wanting to die."
"Is this what triggered your transformation?"
"I don't know."
The therapist looked at Opia oddly. She seemed suspicious of him for whatever reason.
"You don't remember what caused you to become an akuma?"
"Yeah. Not a clue. I was on a bridge, I was falling off the bridge, and then I woke up twenty five feet in the air."
"You remember being an akuma?"
"Yeah?"
She looked at her clipboard and frowned.
"Because of that, ma'am, and the fact that you do not seem upset by your actions, I am going to write you a referral to a psychiatrist. It is not required, but I do suggest going to at least one session of either that, or an akuma victims support group."
"Any thing else?" He sighed. He had been so tired lately. Once the therapist used 'ma'am,' any semblance of energy he had just seeped out of him.
The hospital held him overnight, to treat a concussion and bruised ribs. One of the lowest was nearly fractured, and the doctors claimed that, had he fallen or skidded just a bit harder, it would have shattered. They sent him off with a prescription pain medicine and a back brace in case it started hurting too much.
Neither Chat Noir nor Ladybug visited to apologize for all the hurt they put him through.
He gave the therapist his phone number, so that she could contact him about support groups, and left the hospital in a daze
The day was bright and sunny. There were middle schoolers playing around on a bridge, and his shoulders slumped as he walked passed them.
"Ms. Opia!" One of the kids called out. He turned and saw it was the artist kid from that class he was in for one day. He doubted he would go back, or even could, after the akuma incident.
The kid raced up to him with a worried expression.
"Are you ok? I heard you became an akuma."
"I'm fine, kid." He turned to continue on his way, but the guy followed him.
"I heard Hawkmoth changed your gender when you were an akuma. Are you sure you're alright?"
Opia stopped and took a deep breath. Nosey much? He turned slowly and gave the boy a smile.
"No, buddy, you've got it wrong. Hawkmoth got the right gender." He said smoothly, not breaking his smile. "It's everybody else whose got it all fucked up. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go home and rest because Chat Noir and Ladybug nearly broke my rib cage."
Without another word, he turned and continued walking. The kid didn't follow.
The streets bustled with afternoon activity. Some shopkeepers swept the outside of their stores, some people shared drinks and conversations. Opia headed for a small one bedroom apartment where his mother waited, probably ready to interrogate him on where he'd been.
He mentally prepared himself as he opened the door, cringing in anticipation of a shout, but none came.
He walked into a quiet apartment and set his stuff on the couch. The main room was split in half; one side for the tv and couch, the other for the small kitchen. There was a note on the kitchen table where he and his mother had shared many a rushed breakfasts before work and school.
He picked up the note and scanned it as he went to the fridge.
'Opia; whenever you get home, know that you are in big trouble for not telling me where you were. A call home never hurt anyone. I went out with some friends, and I should be back sometime in the early morning. Good news when I come back, if you're here!'
Hisand his mother's health insurance was still under his father's name, so of course the hospital hadn't gotten in contact with his mom. Did they really call some dead-weight parent in Spain, though? That was the only number on his records. He really needed to get those updated.
He found a juice box in the back of the fridge, and after checking the expiration date (two days left) he popped the straw in and went to the couch.
Shoving his things aside, he turned on the small tv and laid back, relishing in fruit punch and infomercials.
He fell asleep while watching a man scream about apple slices.
He woke up when his mother came home, slightly drunk.
"Opia! There's my darling daughter!" His mother brightened when she saw him. She was a small woman, plump, with short brown hair (still growing back from her fight with cancer when he was only eight years old) and her eyes were a cold steel grey that, god, he wished he inherited instead of his father's hazel.
"I've got great news, sweetie! I got pruh-pre-promoted today! My salahry is gonna be increased ten percent!" She stumbled over her words in her drunken daze, but it did nothing to quell how excited she was.
"I'll be able to pay our bills sooner!"
He got up off the couch with a wince as his ribs still ached, but he smiled at her nonetheless.
"That's great mom. Um... But... How much is left over? Because the city pays for any damages left by Akumas, but usually that's more mental health work, and the patient still has to pay a percentage."
"Don't worry, sweetie, even if we get caught up in something like that, we'll be well off enough to pay for any five percent or wha-whatevur it is."
She began stumbling down the hall to her room and the bathroom, and Opia followed slowly, wrapping his arms around himself. His mom stopped suddenly and turned around as if remembering she had to do something.
"Wait, where were you? Y-you didn't come home last night."
"Mom, I was involved in an akuma attack."
"You better not be shitting me for attention, girl."
He flinched and shook his head.
"I was hospitalized for the night... I... Ladybug nearly shattered one of my ribs."
His mother studied him, trying to find any lies in his face, but she eventually came closer and lifted his shirt, to see the blue green bruise splattered across his lower ribs.
"I also had a concussion. We need to update the health insurance, because it's still under dad's name and I think that's who they called about me."
"That gringo wouldn't give two shits about what is happening to us. You're right. I'll sh-see what I can do tomorrow."
She let his shirt fall and dusted it off, then looked up at him with sad eyes.
"Are you ok, mija?"
"I'm... Really sore. I'll be ok, but I'm still a little dizzy and my ribs hurt when I move too much."
She nodded slowly, solemnly, then stood on her tip-toes and gave him a hard smack on his forehead.
"Ow-ow-ow!" He hissed, stumbling back a bit.
"That doesn't excuse you not calling! Hospitals have phones! You better make me dinner tomorrow to make up for all that stress you put me through! Now go to bed, it's three in the morning, you're keeping me up!"
"Mom, I've got a head injury!" He whined.
"Oh shush, I'm drunk!" She cackled and went off to brush her teeth and pass out in her room.
Opia chuckled a bit, and went back to the couch, which became a pullout bed for him. He moved the small table to the corner of the room and put his bed together, then checked the bathroom to see if it was free.
His mom was just stepping out, and he rushed in before she could change her mind.
He spent a solid five minutes flossing and brushing his teeth, then jumped in the shower to wash the hospital feel off of himself. He should've done it sooner, but he had just been so tired. He wasn't going to school in the morning, anyways.
His mom kept him from school until the next week. Given, she made him do shopping and cleaning around the house, but he didn't have to deal with school, so he was pretty happy.
When he did finally go back, people gave him odd looks, but it seemed like his disappearance had already left the gossip radar, and, for some reason, had its sights set on his lab partner.
Veronica Wilson was the daughter of a surgeon and a travel agent who was rarely home. But they had connections and were the type of people to get invited to cocktail parties with the prime minister of England.
Maybe he had a little jealously towards her, for having such a wealthy life style.
But from what he heard from her, when she talked to him during labs, was that her parents were pretty harsh. They followed the rule that children are things to be seen, not heard, and she suffered some sort of emotional damage from it. She didn't outright say it that way, but he picked it up in just the way she spoke. She was succinct, compelling, and could probably get into the world records book for being a human thesaurus.
She still irritated him to no end, though.
But that still didn't quell his curiosity of why everyone was whispering about her in the hallway.
So when the afternoon Chem lab came around, he sat down next to where she sat, face down on the desk. He thought she was asleep, until he reached out to wake her for class.
"I'm awake."
"That's a first." He tried to joke, but he got no response. There were three minutes until the bell rang, so he had time to ask.
"Are you ok? What happened?"
"You haven't heard?" She grumbled, not lifting her head from her arms.
"I generally avoid gossip cause I don't know what's real. And I was out the last few days due to turning into an akuma."
She shifted a bit, reached one hand out, and grabbed onto his wrist. It jolted him, since this was the first time she willingly touched him.
"You're... You're really not okay, are you?"
Her grip tightened for a moment, then she shook her head.
"Well... You can talk to me if you need to."
She turned her head to look at him through a curtain of her black hair. Her eyes were a cold ice blue, almost frosty like she was blind. But he had seen her read instructions from the board across the room, so he knew she didn't have any kind of hindered sight.
"My... Two days ago my parents were driving home from a business party for my mom. It... Was really stormy where they were driving through."
Opia remembered a night where there was moisture in the air, from a storm just on the outskirts of the city. He nodded as he remembered the taste of distant petrichor in the air.
"They... I called my mom to find out when they were coming home... They were distracted by something, an animal, maybe? All I heard was my mom screaming and shattering glass."
She looked to the side, at the edge of the desk, and she pulled his wrist a little closer. She looked so worn out.
"They're dead."
The bell rang as the rest of the class took their seats, and Veronica let go of his wrist, turning back face down on the desk.
Opia sat in shock of the news. He should watch the news more often.
Class went on, but as students started getting ready for the lab - seeing how different chemical flames looked through Cobalt glass - the teacher came to their table and sat on the edge. Opia looked up at her quizzically, but she lust looked sad.
"Veronica, you are allowed to not do this lab, if you don't feel up to it."
She shook her head and didn't move, so the teacher turned to Opia.
"Since it's not safe to do it alone, you can join another group, but I know you had a bad incident not long ago, so I won't dock points if you sit this one out."
"... I'll stay with Veronica, Ms. Fuentes. " He gently rested his fingers against Veronica's wrist and she seemed to relax just a bit.
Ms. Fuentes nodded and went to her desk.
Opia had a lot of makeup work to finish before the next day, so he pulled out some Calc work and went at it. Occasionally, he would give Veronica a gentle pat on the back when he heard her quiet breaths speed up, and she would slowly relax ever so slightly.
About midway through class, though, they had a disruption.
The door opened just enough for the man to peek his head in, and Ms. Fuentes stood up at the sight of him.
Gabriel Agreste rarely left his office. Even for his own son. For him to come to a high school was even stranger than seeing him off screen.
He talked quietly to Ms. Fuentes, then made his way over to him and Veronica, who had looked up just the slightest bit.
"Ms. Wilson, I wished to give you my condolences." Opia tensed. He knew that voice from somewhere. Mr. Agreste sounded different than he did on TV. His voice was slightly deeper, more pronounced.
"I apologize, I will not be able to make it to the funeral on Friday."
Veronica nodded and rubbed her right eye.
"It's... Not your fault, Mr. Agreste."
"It was my party they attended. Had they not been there, this all would not have happened."
Opia openly stared at the man. He knew that voice. He knew it. But he couldn't place it.
"Young man, it's not polite to stare."
Opia blinked and looked around, but all the other students were working and not looking their way. He looked back at the man and cleared his throat.
"M-me?"
"Yes, you." He rolled his eyes. Opia never thought men like him rolled their eyes. He also never thought men like him would refer to him as a man. The only other person to do so so easily was...
His eyes went wide with recognition as he sat up straight. Veronica gave him a snort of laughter before falling silent again.
"S-sorry sir, I just- you just..." He was back to staring, but this time in awe. "Never thought I'd see you so close..."
Gabriel Agreste narrowed his eyes at Opia, but dropped it and returned to his conversation with Veronica. After he apologized for her loss again, he said his goodbyes with barely a second glance at him and left. Veronica turned just a bit so she could face him more easily.
"You're a good guy, Opia."
"W-what?" This was all a bit too much. "Really?" He wasn't asking about him being a good person, and Veronica seemed to know that.
"You're just too quiet when you correct people. You should practice speaking from your gut instead of your chest. It'll make your voice deeper too."
"O-oh, thanks. That's... Actually helpful." He sat in shock for a moment, then furrowed his brows and turned to her fully. "Um... Would you..."
"I'm leaving to England right after the funeral." She interrupted, once again catching him off guard.
"England?" He scrunched his nose in distaste.
"My aunt lives there. She's my last living family member. All week I'm booked with lawyer visits and people sending condolences."
He looked down and tightened his right hand into a fist.
"Well... I hope you have fun with your aunt."
"I doubt it. It always rains there. The school is nothing like this one. There aren't cool fashion designers interrupting my classes." The last comment was supposed to be sarcastic, but Veronica's way of speaking was so monotonous, she sounded as if Gabriel Agreste interrupted her classes everyday.
Opia snorted, and she looked a bit grateful that he had gotten that it was a joke.
"I... I probably won't be coming to school the rest of the week. If I don't see you again, I want to tell you that I am grateful for you always listening to me."
"Ah, don't thank me yet. Half the time I was listening to music."
She looked offended as he looked back at her with a wide smirk, and winked. She blinked out of the scowl she had been wearing, turning more into shock, then huffed a laugh and looked back at the desk.
"You... Are a good guy. But Opia, don't let anyone take advantage of you for it. There are... Terrible things in the world. There's good too, but you'll hear about the bad far more." She reached out and rested her hand on his shoulder. Her grip was a lot stronger than he had anticipated. She leveled a strong glare at him that made his blood run cold. He never thought she could look anything like this.
"I will do what I can to fix injustices, but it takes time. In the meantime, Opia, do what you need to in order to survive. The strong leave the weak in the dust. Do you want to be choked out, or do you want to breathe easy and fly free?"
She gave his shoulder a tight squeeze, then picked up her things and left the room with a quick wave at their teacher. The woman nodded in understanding as she bustled out, leaving Opia in a bit a of a trance state.
Whether she did it on purpose or not, Opia would never find out. She would be long gone by the time he would get the chance to go visit her. But her words had him remembering wind in his hair and armor on his skin, and the smell of the air as it filled his lungs fully for the first time he could properly remember.