There's a picture (digital oh my!) on my tumblr xxkamuisenketsuxx of That Man.
I don't My Hero Academia.
He'd never been a normal boy.
At first, he couldn't sense it in himself, but he seemed to give others the impression that he wasn't quite right easily enough. It started with his parents.
They saw something in him, or a lack of something and sought to occupy him.
He was born to two modern day world renowned swordsmen. His father was a world class kendo champion. His mother was a world class fencer from America.
From a young age he was trained by the sword by both of his parents, and they were ruthless in their instruction. The tapestry of scars that became his body was a testament to this. Many people assumed he was the one doing the cutting and told him he was a freak. No one believed him when he said he hadn't done it to himself. Though that's not to say after a while he didn't see the pleasure one could get from being cut.
But back to his story… as he grew his resentment for his cruel, glory obsessed parents did as well. Because of his strict upbringing, he had no time to form bonds with his peers, and he never had a friend in his life. If he did, it didn't last for long because they either wanted to use him because of his parents' wealth, or found him too strange because of his lack of social development and body scars. His isolation as well as his harsh home life twisted him, and he soon grew to hate the scars his training had given him, the scars that made others steer clear of him for being a 'freak'. He became obsessed with beautiful skin, and knew if he had such a trait, that people would probably be more inclined to talk to him.
He knew of no way to reverse his abundant scarring, so he began to look for a way that might help.
He eventually came to the conclusion that he simply needed to make others just like him if he wanted to be understood.
Despite his scars and his strange eyes he found if he put in contact lenses he turned heads. Women found him attractive, but for some reason whenever he tried to deepen his connection to a girl he met to make her just like him— so that they could truly understand one another… she became frightened and ran away.
He'd gotten quite tired of people running away from him, spreading rumors and making people treat him even more like a pariah. So he started to look for people to connect with in other places, places where he wasn't well known. But no matter where he went people were always the same.
That's how he ended up standing over his latest "girlfriend" in an alleyway, her innards spilling out onto the pavement as red spilled sloppily out of her cooling body.
He wasn't quite sure if he'd meant to hurt her. But he knew one thing.
He liked it.
After the first woman he killed he found he couldn't stop.
There was a certain euphoria in slicing someone open, in soaking one's hands in sticky red blood. He'd even taking to licking his fingers sometimes. He liked the flavor of liquid iron sitting thickly in the back of his throat when he did so.
He became so enamored in what he was doing… for once being the one doing the cutting that he caught the eye of the public.
Of course no one knew it was him yet, but the news gave him a name. Painting him as some fiend who stalked the night and preyed on unsuspecting young women.
The Ripper.
He'd gotten good at doing what he liked, smart. So he stopped his ravenous killing spree and began stalking his victims instead. His parents had forced him to continue his education in college, so that opened up many opportunities for him. A particular girl caught his eyes, but she was frightened all the same by him asking her to cut him.
She'd seemed so nice. Different. But apparently that had just been pity. Before he could silence her lying mouth forever she fled in terror. The next day he found himself being beat up by her cousin, a young man who often found reasons to pick fun at him beside his lackey anyway.
The sky above was an array of warm colors, turning more to the orange and pink side as evening slowly rolled in. He was leaning heavily against a wall in a tranquil neighborhood, his right eye beginning to swell closed and his lip was split. His nose throbbed in time with his heartbeat, and one more hit and he knew it would break. The two beefy thugs were leering at him maliciously, the thicker one holding him against the wall. He was waiting for the orders of his leader. Said leader loomed closely, holding a pocket knife to the platinum blonde's throat threateningly.
"I heard you like this, you freak." The one with the blade sneered. "You asked Rize to cut you after begging her to go out with you. What kinda sicko are you, huh, you little shit!? How do you think I felt when my little cousin came crying to my house hysterical because your crazy ass asked her to cut you on the first date!"
He turned his face away, disgust churning in his stomach. The thug's breath was rank and there was spittle flying from his mouth.
"Answer him when he's talking to you!" The one pinning him growled, shoving him harder into the wall, drawing a gasp and wince from him.
"I-I j-just—" He stuttered, cutting himself off. Why was he even bothering to try to answer?
Would they listen? Did they deserve to even speak to him? Of course not. They should just disappear. How pretty the world would be by such a small change.
Men didn't really do it for him but everyone was red meat on the inside anyway.
His tormentors only seemed to grow angrier by his silence, but before he could do anything something curious happened.
"Hey!" Someone yelled.
The one pinning him craned his neck around and exclaimed, "Who the fuc—"
"A kid!?" Yelped the knife wielding one. "The hell do you want?"
"I want you to stop treating that guy like that." The stranger stated bluntly. "I don't know what's going on, but this isn't cool you guys."
He looked at the person who spoke up on his behalf. Something people just didn't do for him. It was a child. Someone who couldn't be passed their first year in middle school. She even wore a black seifuku to testify to her young age. She had alabaster skin, and big silver eyes framed by thick, delicate white lashes. Her hair was almost impractically long, worn in a lazy ponytail at the back of her neck, and she wore a cute pastel blue backpack shaped like a cat. In her right hand was a handled brown paper bag, and her expression held a conviction that sent a chill down his spine.
"Hah?" Huffed the one pinning him. "What right do you have to say that?"
"Any basic human being would have the decency to say that." The teen retorted blandly.
Oh? He liked her. She had a fiery spirit despite her elegant, unsoiled appearance.
"Wait wait, pause." The knife wielding one interrupted, stepping away from him. Unfortunately his lackey friend didn't let up on his grip.
'Annoying…'
The girl stood tall before the man with the knife, unwilling to fold after stating her beliefs. The bully noticed this, tilting his head.
"Oh, I get it." He said, nodding to himself. "You think you're helping don't you, little girl? But let me tell you a little secret."
The girl pursed her full lips at the man's mocking tone. Still though, she did not back down. Both bullies were several times her size and she did not falter.
He was intrigued.
"This guy is a freak." The bully stated, gesturing with his knife at the still trapped blonde. "He cuts and talks to himself all the time, and my cousin, who felt bad for his dumbass went out with him when he asked her. He didn't even have enough sense to wait until they'd known each other for a while before springing his bullshit onto her. He just jumped right into begging her to cut him up! My cousin was literally traumatized by this bastard. So I thought hey, why don't I show him what it really means to be cut? Bet he'd think twice about shoving his sick fantasies onto people then."
As if such a neanderthal could teach him anything about the art form he was already a master at. He knew how good it felt to be cut. How good it felt to do the cutting. There was nothing such a waste of space could teach him. The idea was laughable at best.
The girl seemed startled by the bully's words. She blinked a few times before she shook her head slowly. It would seem she wasn't going to go along with his logic.
"Um," She began, voice slightly uncertain. She swallowed before beginning anew, "Well it sounds like he really needs help."
The teen's starlight eyes darted to his own ink pits. He felt the breath leave his lungs in a woosh as he stared back, ublinking. He was sucked into the depths of her gaze. She was so young but it seemed like there was eons worth of wisdom in those orbs. He wondered what type of things she spent her time thinking about, having eyes like that. Or maybe he was just imagining things? He wanted to know. Alas, the spell was broken when those silver eyes darted away again to the man holding the pocket knife.
"I agree that it doesn't sound like he's into normal things…" She said, his heart sinking as a result. "But shouldn't you guys have tried to help him in some way instead of bullying him? I'm sorry your cousin was so scared, but I really don't think this is the way to make things better. I think you might actually make them worse like this."
Oh. Oh. She was different. Other people turned tail and ran. They avoided him. But she thought he was worth listening to. Helping.
'She's different…' He thought, eyes becoming heavily lidded as his gaze roved over her slight form. 'She's perfect.'
"Oh, I get it. So you think we can fix this fuckwad by listening to his feelings?" The one that had already proven to be more violent sneered. "Hate to break it to you brat, but guys like this don't get better by "talking it out" and shitty therapy. Piss stains like this need to be beaten into submission or locked up in a deep dark place. I'm willing to bet this little pussy attitude he walks around with is just a farce. He's into some really messed up shit, no way there's anything redeemable about him."
The girl bristled at the tactless and pessimistic words he was spewing, a scowl forming on her face. He felt himself go a little limp at the way she reacted on his behalf. The bully pinning him was holding him up now, because his knees were weak, filled with helpless jelly. Her righteous scowl raised the fine hairs on his arms, and a shiver slithered down his spine. His stomach filled with fluttering butterflies, and he wanted to be closer.
She was enchanting.
"And who are you to make that call?" She argued. "You know what? I don't care, I don't want to hear any more of this nonsense. I've already called the cops, so if you guys want to explain to them why you're beating up some innocent guy and waving around a knife, be my guest."
She glared at both of the bullies, and he shivered again.
'Perfect.' His mind declared, oozing sticky sweetness at the thought of her. 'So so perfect.'
Her attention was drawn back to the guy holding the pocket knife because he sighed in frustration, shoving an irritated hand through his hair.
"You're a shitty, and nosy little girl, you know that?" He huffed. "Fine. We're bouncing out, but don't say I didn't warn you. When you're alone with this freak, he'll probably show his true colors."
It's not like he was hiding or he needed to because this girl was different. He knew she was. She would accept him, he knew. He just knew she wouldn't let him down. She validated this assumption when she still didn't budge, even under those ominous words.
The brute that had been pinning the blonde began complaining and spewing curses, roughly shoving his captive onto his butt childishly and storming off the way the girl had come. The bully with the knife slid said blade into his pocket, giving the girl one last glance. He didn't see what kind of look the bully gave her, but apparently it was significant enough to have the scowl sliding off of her face.
"Better pray you haven't just made the biggest mistake of your life kid." The bully drawled. "You were warned."
With those uncalled for dramatics he calmly strode off. She watched him follow after his lackey. Shoving a scarred hand through his pale blonde hair, he stood up and strode over to his little savior, wanting to get a closer look at her. She was so tiny compared to him. Up close he could see the cute point of her ears peeking from behind her long, wavy bangs.
After a moment, those glittering eyes found his own. A short, adorable squeak escaped her throat when she finally noticed him. She was close enough to touch, peering up at him with those huge, ethereal moon lit eyes. He could see traces of periwinkle and baby pink scattered across her irises, like a sparkling diamond.
He felt himself become sucked into her eyes yet again. They were just so pretty. Suddenly it didn't matter that she was a child. Age was just a number, a social construct that he had no interest in feeding into. It was just one of those things that were, just as blood was red and his savior's eyes were unearthly silver.
He wondered if she could feel their connection. She hadn't blinked once or tried to get away from him. So it couldn't just be him.
Finally he offered her a sincere smile. Her lips opened a little in surprise, and he felt his eyes genuinely crease at the corners.
"Thanks." He breathed in a rasp. He didn't speak too much aloud, but to her he wanted to talk all day. He wanted to tell her everything about him and hear everything about her in return.
He couldn't help himself, leaning down until his nose nearly brushed her button-like one. Her eyes seemed to suck up the evening light around them, sending twinkles around the colors dancing about her irises. Her lashes nearly brushed her cheeks as her eyes became lidded, still connected to his own.
"You were… very cool." He told her, almost panting. His heart was pounding, and his palms were slick with sweat.
His savior stood still, continuing to watch him. She was listening to him. Could she be any more wonderful? She wasn't just leaving, she was allowing him to speak to her. He couldn't control himself, wanting to tell her everything.
"I… I go to college with those two…" He explained, now very much panting, his lips curling at the sides, eyes wide because he didn't want to blink and stop looking at her for a single second. "They... mess with me… every day… so… it's nice… you stopped them."
"A-ah." She said, voice cracking. She was probably just as affected by their chemistry as he was. So he gave her a moment to center herself. She did and offered, "W-well… you're welcome?"
He wanted to laugh. How charming. She was modest.
"You're… very pretty." He breathed, finding himself grinning.
"Uh, well… I really have to go now. I'm glad you're okay!" She blurted, adorably flustered.
She ran away like the cute little school girl she was. So she was shy? That was okay, he didn't mind being forward.
He waited a moment as a large grin split his face in two.
And then he followed.
Two years later he was no longer called The Ripper.
He had a new name he thought suited him much more, and it was amusingly ironic. It'd been given to him by the public when they found out the things he did to most of his "victims".
A lot of things had changed since he began pursuing Kasha's affections. They'd had a small falling out after he'd gotten carried away with her parents. And then he'd lost his temper on her when she wouldn't listen to him. He'd been distraught when he thought he'd killed her after slitting her throat. He'd just been so angry when she told Kaji to run. Thankfully though help had arrived in time to stop her bleeding.
He'd been arrested simply because he'd been staunching the blood flow by hand himself. But it didn't matter in the end, because he'd gotten away.
By the time he escaped the authorities Kasha and Kaji had moved away. But the fates were on his side, because he saw his love on TV. She'd survived a villain attack. She was so strong and reliable. It'd been two years, she must not be upset with him anymore, so he'd decided to find her.
So he did.
She'd changed her name, and she lived alone. But it wasn't hard to finesse his way into the gated community she kept residence in.
With an anticipating smile he sat on her couch and waited for hours. She was at school, but he knew she would be excited to see him. He left a present for her at the door so that they could play a game.
Finally, he heard the locks click. He looked up.
Kasha was home.
I'm thinking I should give That Man's point of view another go after this chapter. He's a very warped mind amirite?