Visions from the tip of their fingers. Feelings you've never felt before. Sensations you've never experienced. Things you can feel.
That was Fukumoto Hikari's quirk. Many praise such a crafty, strong ability. "You can take down tricky villains with this quirk!"
But it's not all fun and games. "You can become a horrible villain with this quirk."
Sometimes they don't know whether the things they see are real. If the feelings they feel are real.
What if it's all an illusion? If they've tricked themself into believing an illusion?
They gaze out of the window with pale grey eyes. Black hair, mussed up and in gravity defying angles gets even messier. The eye bags, heavy on their face.
"Fukumoto-san?" The ward nurse murmurs softly, as if afraid to disturb the eery silence of the bare room. Hikari turns their head, a blank gaze staring into the depths of her soul. She shivers. "You have a visitor."
Hikari doesn't believe her. They never get visitors. The ward nurse purses her lips, as if she knew what they were thinking. But that wasn't possible. Only Hikari can read minds.
She's thinking: What a strange and scary child.
"They're down in the waiting room. I will bring them over."
The ward nurse casts a wary glance at Hikari, before she leaves. Hikari turns back to the window, and stares. Cars, busy roads, pedestrians, dog walkers. Hikari hates walking down there. Too many people. Too many things to overload their senses. Too many minds to read. The feeling of people brushing against them. The smell of everything. It was too loud.
"Sir, this is Fukumoto Hikari. They don't talk much, so don't be disheartened. And make sure to stay quiet. They don't like loud noises."
Hikari feels out their minds. They don't face them, opting to stare down at the busy city streets. They hate meeting new people. They always gawk and stare and talk about their stupid, fucking quirk-
The ward nurse thinks: Why would this man want to talk to Fukumoto of all people?
The other person thinks-
Hikari can't read the other person's mind. How are they supposed to know what illusion to give this one?
Oh, wait. They can hear the other person's thoughts now. The other person thinks: She's changed so much.
Oh. Hikari turns to face the two people walking into their shared space. The ward nurse and…
Long, black hair. Piercing red eyes. Hikari tastes familiarity, but they can't remember.
Were they someone from Before? The man nods at the ward nurse, and she hurries off.
Hikari wants to laugh at her pathetic demeanour, but they can't bring themselves too.
"You are Hikari?" The man asks, voice dry and rough. Hikari doesn't want to like it, but it feels so familiar.
They hope it isn't another illusion.
"You are Hikari?" The man repeats, patient. Hikari nods slowly, fingers tapping on their legs. "Do you remember me?"
The man didn't look too surprised, or unhappy. Instead, he nods and leans back. Red eyes assess Hikari's skinny frame.
"You were very young, when we first met," The man murmurs. "Around one."
Hikari doesn't care about that. That means he barely knew them.
"But, the last time we saw each other was when you were five."
Oh. So, he was there when Hikari…
"You didn't kill them, Hikari."
And there it was. Trying to lessen the guilt, trying to ease the pain-
It was too late.
"You didn't have control of your quirk, Hikari."
That's what they all said.
The man's gaze holds pity. Sadness. Hikari glances at their hands, bowing their head.
"My name is Aizawa Shouta."
Aizawa, Aizawa, Aizawa-
Deep chuckles, a bed time story. Yellow sleeping bag, a cat named Musketeer. Yoghurt pouches, gentle admonishments.
"You are my uncle," Hikari rasps, voice hoarse from the lack of use. The man – Aizawa – jolts, as if he didn't expect Hikari to speak. "My… mother's brother."
"Yes," Aizawa murmurs, watching Hikari closely. Hikari realises that they share the same eye shape.
"I might as well have killed them, my parents," Hikari mutters. They used to be so adamant about that, but now they've become… numb. They didn't know what to feel. "Are you an illusion?"
Aizawa's lips quirk up a little bit. "No."
Hikari takes that as a confirmation. Illusion's cannot admit that they are not illusions.
"Why are you here?" Hikari asks. "Of all times. You could have visited earlier. Or never at all."
"Because the ward says you've gotten better."
Hikari smiles dryly. "No. I have not. I have only gotten more numb."
Aizawa doesn't say anything. The sadness in his eyes grows more apparent.
"Can you show me an illusion? The quirk specialist said you've gained full control."
Hikari's lips thin, reluctant clear in their expression.
"I won't push you. But, do you remember my quirk?" Aizawa asks, patient. Hikari shakes their head. How could they remember a quirk of someone they barely remember? "I can erase someone's quirk temporarily."
Oh. Hikari stares at Aizawa with a levelled stare. Could they try?
Hesitantly, they raise their hand and close their eyes. What would be a good illusion?
They search Aizawa's mind. Yellow haired loud guy. A teenager with clouds for hair.
Hikari opens their eyes, and there, right next to Aizawa, stands a brightly beaming boy with clouds for hair. Blue, sparkling eyes. He feels so warm.
"Sho-chan! Long time no see!" The teenager cheers. "Man, you look old!"
Aizawa stares at the figure, eyes wide and mouth agape. "O-Oboro?"
Hikari realises that this was a bad person to recreate. 'Oboro' is most likely dead.
Hikari snaps their fingers and the illusion fades away.
"No!" Aizawa calls, reaching his hand out to grasp onto something that isn't there.
"He is an illusion," Hikari reminds. Aizawa shakily exhales, and glances at Hikari with dead, remorseful eyes. "I apologise, I shouldn't have used that person."
"You only acted from what you saw. It's alright."
Aizawa's words hang heavy in the air. He looks pained.
He's thinking: Why him of all people? Why not Hisashi? Why not Nemuri?
Aizawa blames them, but does not want to say it. Hikari is used to it.
"I will take my leave now. We can try this again the next time I visit."
Hikari doubts he will come again soon. He was too shaken by the experience. Nonetheless, they nod.
Aizawa nods back, and he briskly makes his way out of the room. Again, Hikari is alone in the room with bare, white walls, with a white bed in a grey metal frame. They turn to stare out the window.
Their quirk is a burden.
"Fukumoto-san, how was the visit?" The ward nurse asks, bringing in a plate of hot food. A glass of water in her other hand. She gently sets them on the table next to Hikari's bed. The table is white, like the rest of the room.
"I scared him away," Hikari replies quietly, staring out the window. The ward nurse giggles nervously.
"I'm sure you didn't. He promised to visit soon, ne?"
Promises can be broken. But Hikari doesn't say that. The ward nurse would become even more scared of her.
She's thinking: What a weird child.
Hikari just hums. A dog pulls on their leash. A person spills coffee on herself. The streets of Tokyo are ever so bustling.
"I'll be going, then, Fukumoto-san."
Hikari hums again in response. The ward nurse hastily walks out of the room.
They always do that. Whenever they leave, it's like they're running away. Hikari stares down at the food on the table. Plastic fork and spoon. Styrofoam cup.
They're serving chicken katsu curry with jasmine rice. The steam swirls above.
"Itadakimasu," Hikari mumbles, before picking up the plastic utensils. They put food in their mouth, chewing mechanically.
The flavour of the curry was average. The chicken was too dry. The rice was good, at least.
They swallow. Again, they put food in their mouth.
The flavour's lost its touch. The chicken was the same. The rice was average.
Repeat.
It tastes like cardboard. The chicken was too tough.
Repeat.
Drink a glass of water to wash it down.
Repeat.
Hikari stares out the window. As they do all the time.
Repeat.
Hikari is older now. They turned twenty. Five years since they last saw Aizawa. But they remember him now.
"You came back," Hikari says as soon as Aizawa walks in. Aizawa notes that they look healthier. The circles under their eyes have faded slightly, and they don't look as skinny. "I thought you never would."
"Sorry."
"No need to apologise."
They sit in awkward silence. Hikari glances out the window, watching as a child misses their bus.
"They say you're at the top of your studies. You graduated early."
Hikari nods. Silence again. It's thick and heavy, and Hikari wants it to go away. They can't breath – not with Aizawa staring them down so intensely.
"The ward lady says you might be allowed to integrate with the public."
Hikari is not looking forward to it. They may have gotten used to people brushing up against them, but crowds are so, so terrifying.
"You've gotten better," Aizawa continues, desperately trying to continue a conversation that Hikari isn't sure they want to continue.
"Yes," Hikari replies, because even though they don't want to talk, Aizawa does.
"When you get released, you can stay over at my place."
Hikari knows what he's thinking: Keep an eye on them. Make sure they don't slip.
"They'll give me a flat to stay in. It's an approved area. I don't want to intrude."
They'd rather be alone than to be babysat.
Aizawa nods warily, reluctant to just let Hikari be by themself.
The next time Aizawa asks a question, Hikari doesn't answer.
This continues on as Aizawa grows more and more frustrated.
"I'll take my leave now."
There is no promise of him returning. Hikari doesn't know if they should feel relieved or disappointed.
They had an episode. It would postpone the integrating, but Hikari doesn't mind.
Screaming, crying, heavy breaths. Who is she? Is she real? No, she's smiling too much. She's so small.
Was that them? As a child? Hikari barely remembers their life before they killed their parents.
They drove them into insanity until they killed themselves.
Just like what they're doing to themself. Hikari laughs loud, cackling. They throw their head back. Illusions swarm around them. What's real? What's fake?
There are… things… brushing up against them. Smells they've never smelt. Tastes they've never tasted. An overload of sensations, pulled from the minds of the inhabitants of the ward. They could read their minds, pull out illusions from that information.
A monster – sleep paralysis demon.
Men grabbing them, touching them – trauma. Rape.
Many illusions, visions, like these crowd around them. Threatening to drown them in their thick, heavy cries.
Hikari struggles to breathe.
There's someone rushing to them. Is that person real? Then, a jab at their neck.
Oh. Hikari's eyes go heavy. Blinking sleepily, they make a noise of confusion.
They close their eyes and nod off. The illusions fade away.
Hikari stares at their hands. The doctors were trying to figure out a reason why they had this episode. So far, they drew to the conclusion that Hikari was just stressed about integrating.
"It's not so terrible, Fukumoto-san," A doctor soothes. Hikari remains tight lipped. "We will try and prescribe you anxiety medication. That way you can deal with this easier."
Why didn't they think of that before?
The doctor thinks: We don't want them to become reliant on medication.
Oh. Hikari glances out the window again. A man walks hastily to the toilet.
"Do you like people watching, Fukumoto-san?" The doctor asks, noticing where Hikari's gaze lays.
"Helps me predict what they'll do."
The doctor nods, expression one of understanding. What does he understand?
"That's a good way to cope."
Cope? Cope with what? Crowds? Anxiety? The illusions?
Sometimes, doctors can be stupid and vague. As if they know everything. Everything about you.
But, Hikari's the one who knows everything about them. That's why some of the doctors and ward assistants are reluctant to be around Hikari.
"I have to go talk with the other doctors, Fukumoto-san. Good bye."
Hikari nods, and the doctor leaves.
Again, they are alone.
"Do you want to be a hero, Fukumoto-san?" The therapist asks, scribbling down in a notebook. Hikari gazes at the ceiling lazily, thinking, unfeeling.
"I don't know," Hikari replies blandly. The therapist raises her eyebrows.
She's thinking: What kind of person doesn't dream of being a hero? It's everyones dream!
But Hikari isn't everyone. Never was. They were always on the edge of society, hovering between. Or sometimes, most of the time, Hikari was far away from the good, normal people of society. The sane people of society.
Because Hikari is insane.
"Really? What about when you were younger?" The therapist presses. Hikari doesn't like the overbearing nature of the therapist. But, she was the only one willing to put up with Hikari.
"Maybe," Hikari responds. It's only for their benefit, so they don't get pushed around and fiddled with. If it helps the therapist, then that's for them to decide.
Hikari can't remember much of their childhood from Before. The doctors say it's a result from the trauma. Repressing memories. Hikari doesn't care. Never cared.
"Who's your favourite hero?" The therapist inquires. Because everyone has a favourite hero. Even the sickos and the mentally insane in this cursed ward.
Hikari mutters a small, "All Might."
It's a safe answer – because everyone knows All Might. Even Hikari, who stares out their window all day and doesn't pay attention to the people in flashy costumes.
And he's the number one hero. Who doesn't like him?
Villains, Hikari thinks. But who cares about them? They're the scum of the Earth – ranking below people like her.
Or at least, that's what the doctors and nurses say at this ward. Hisses and spits of villains, and how lucky they were that the people in this ward were too inept to even think about being a villain.
Hikari knows they have the potential to be one, though. Their quirk, their personality, their view of the world. It's the perfect villain starter pack.
"All Might is cool, hm? He's not the number one hero for nothing!" The therapist chirps. It grates on Hikari's ears. The buzzer rings, and the therapist's eyes widen in surprise. "Oh, my! The session's ended. Time flies by so fast when you're having fun! I'll go now, Fukumoto-san."
Hikari knows the therapist was looking forward to ending this session. Hikari is too weird. Too unhinged.
She's thinking: Thank God. Now I can laze around in my apartment.
No one really cares for the people in this ward. They only come for the pay.
Hikari doesn't mind. They'd do the same in their position.
"Goodbye, Fukumoto-san."
But Hikari's too lost in their thoughts to reply. The therapist sniffs in distaste, before leaving.
The door shuts, and Hikari's left alone again. The cold of the emptiness seeps into their bones.
They're in the ward's private garden. The doctors say it might be good for them to soak in the sun.
Hikari hasn't seen the outdoors in a year. Maybe that's why they've gone insane.
They're still very much insane.
"Isn't this nice, Fukumoto-san?" The nurse accompanying her says in a breathy voice. Hikari doesn't reply, opting to stare at a bird.
They want to be that bird. Fly away from their problems, with no cares in the world.
Can they be a bird?
Flap. The bird takes off to soar in the sky.
"Fukumoto-san?" The nurse asks. Hikari's eyes slide over to her, piercing deeply.
She's thinking: Scary! They're like a monster!
Hikari supposes they might as well be. A monster, that is. Hikari goes back to staring up at the sky.
The clouds were fluffy. Hikari wants to reach up, up and touch it.
When the nurse urges them to go back into their room, they struggle a little. But, they give up.
Hikari always gives up.
Hikari is locked up in their room again. They glance outside of the window, and stare into the sky.
The sky… a bird.
They want to be a bird.
It goes on like this for days. Weeks. Soon, it'll be months.
Hikari stares outside the window. They don't do anything else.
The doctors think they've regressed. The integration will be suspended for another two years.
Hikari doesn't care. They don't listen or react anymore. The nurses have taken to feeding them through liquids. Hikari can't be bothered to chew their food.
A bird. They want to be a bird.
Can they be a bird?
"Fukumoto-san…"
The doctors voices are muffled. They can't hear – or won't.
Hikari doesn't care. They want to be a bird.
"They're too far gone…"
A bird. Flap, flap. Tweet. Chirp.
"We have to do something."
Hikari watches as the clouds drift. So nice. They want to touch.
"We haven't had an illusion episode in a while. They'll be fine."
Can they touch the clouds, if they're a bird?
Tweet. Chirp.
There's a little girl in their room. Hikari watches it with a blank face. They rarely get visitors.
"Are you okay?" The little girl asks, peering up at them with sparkling eyes. Too trusting. Too naive.
"Yes," Hikari replies, voice hoarse. Hikari can't read the little girl's mind.
"My name is Hikari, what's yours?" The little girl chirps. Hikari blinks. Once. Twice.
It's an illusion. This girl is an illusion.
Hikari responds anyway. "Hikari."
"We have the same name!" The little girl gasps, eyes wide. Hikari watches as the girl giggles.
The little girl – Hikari – does a tiny dance. Tiny feet twirl and tap.
Hikari – the Monster – watches.
"Do you like my dance, Hikari?" Hikari the Girl inquires. A childish twinkle glints in her eyes.
Hikari the Monster nods. "You're like a bird."
Hikari the Girl giggles. "I like birds."
"Me too," Hikari the Monster replies. It's the most talking they've done in ages. Hikari feels their mouth grow tired.
"You can be a bird, too, Hikari," Hikari the Girl whispers, as if sharing a secret. "Just follow me, Hikari!"
Hikari the Monster nods, and gets up. Hikari the Girl leads the way, giggling and dancing the entire way. The Monster follows behind.
Hikari the Girl phases through the door. The Monster opens it. The Girl claps her hand in excitement.
The Girl dashes through the halls. The Monster's eyes widen, and runs behind – terrified to lose their one chance to be a bird.
"Fukumoto-san?" A voice calls. The Monster doesn't listen, can't hear over the pounding in their ears.
Run, run, run. The Girl turns a corner, and peeks her head out. The Monster turns the corner too.
There. A balcony.
"Follow me, Hikari!" The Girl exclaims. The Monster nods, and determinedly follows behind.
The Girl climbs up onto the railing.
"FUKUMOTO-SAN!"
Who's calling them? Hikari the Monster doesn't care and climbs up onto the railing too.
The Girl cheers in happiness, and jumps off.
The Monster's eyes widen as they see the Girl flying.
"I can touch the clouds, Hikari! Join me!" The Girl's smile is blinding. It's so bright.
The Girl twirls mid-air, and Hikari the Monster wants to fly too.
"FUKUMOTO-SAN! FUKUMOTO-SAN!"
"SOMEONE CALL THE POLICE!"
"FUKUMOTO-SAN!"
Hikari the Monster can't hear them, because Hikari the Girl covers their ears gently.
"Just jump, Hikari. Follow me, Hikari," The Girl whispers in her ear. It's a soft hum, and Hikari the Monster feels warm. "Fly with me, Hikari. We can be birds."
"FUKUMOTO-SAN!"
Hikari the Monster smiles widely. The first smile they've smiled in a long time. It's bright, and so full of happiness and relief.
"Jump, Hikari."
"FUKUMOTO-SAN!"
Their cries are lost to the wind. Hikari the Monster jumps.
"FUKOMOTO-SAN!"
"OH GOD! OH GOD!"
"POLICE! POLICE!"
Hikari doesn't fly. They fall, faster now.
They don't mind. Hikari the Girl floats above them, eyes sad.
"You'll be okay, Hikari. You'll be a bird," Hikari the Girl whispers. She presses a kiss upon Hikari the Monster's forehead and disappears.
Hikari the Monster trusts Hikari the Girl. They continue to fall.
They watch as the balcony becomes smaller and smaller.
Falling, falling. Hikari the Monster giggles to themself.
The ground is nearing. They'll fly soon. They'll be a bird.
CRUNCH. Flesh and bone meet concrete.
Everything goes black. It's instantaneous. At least they won't feel pain anymore.
Hikari the Monster dies with a smile on their face.
A baby bird chirps in the distance.
