Tomorrow
A rich man sat in a wheelchair watching a koi pond. Fish of orange, white, red, and black hue swam happily, basking in the midmorning sun. The man watched them motionless. He didn’t dare move. Moving hurt.
He envied the koi, able to move so freely and without pain. In his darker moments, he considered filling in the pond, ending the source of his envy. But if he did that… he’d never see their joy again.
Yamasaki Yuudai woke with a start. He looked around frantically. The soft glow of idle consoles and the shrouded figures of towering book shelves greeted him. He was in his dorm at Shiketsu. He wasn’t at the estate unable to move… yet. He held his head in his hands. He breathed a sigh of relief. It was just the koi dream. He took a moment to gather himself, then rolled out of bed with a faint sigh. He looked out the window.
Kyoto’s lights burned the sky. Even now, in the faint gray hours of early morning. The stars weren’t allowed to shine. The city was quiet; its war against the starry sky was waged with only the faint buzz of orange street lamps. The clock next to Yuudai’s bed read ‘4:00.’
Yuudai flexed his joints. He always checked after the koi dream. His body responded perfectly. No pain. No stiffness. It was okay.
‘For now.’ Callous noted grimly. He wondered what the koi represented. He was no psychologist. Maybe the koi were his classmates. It’d explain his envy, but he’d never even in his darkest moments, contemplated hurting them like he did the koi. Still, the koi had to mean something. He’d had the dream too often. His mind must be trying to tell him something. Perhaps he could ask Makura-san.
A shuffle and a snort drew Yuudai’s attention to the other side of the room. There, curled in his bed, was the snoring form of Yuudai’s roommate. Feathered wings were draped across the boy’s sleeping form like a blanket. A tail hung lazily over the side of the bed, barely touching the floor. A single foot stuck out from under the sheets.
Yuudai couldn’t help but smirk, his troubles briefly forgotten. As proper as Aquila was when awake, he was a sloppy sleeper.
Careful not to wake his roommate, Yuudai dressed in a green tracksuit. He tiptoed out of the room. Once outside, he went to the common area and began to stretch. He swung his legs in every direction, touched his toes, and lunged forward. After nearly ten minutes of executing every stretch he could think of, Yuudai broke into a jog for the front door.
Bursting out of the dorm and into the chill morning air, Yuudai made for the school’s track. Shiketsu was eerily quiet this time of morning. The school buildings were shrouded in that same dark-orange glow that dominated the night sky. The walkways were shrouded in a thick fog. The street lamps wore halos of mist. He didn't mind the eerie sights of the school before dawn. The promise of danger and physical harm that the darkness brought were welcome distractions from the permanent sense of dread that had made its home in his heart.
Yuudai came to the school’s track and broke into a sprint. He sprinted around the track 22 times before he slowed to a jog for the last 3. Then he walked around the track, hands behind his head, letting his lungs gulp in air. As he finished his cool down, Kyoto’s burnt orange night sky became light gray. Under the threat of the coming dawn, Yuudai performed 100 pushups, 100 situps, and 100 squats. It was an insane amount of work for just the first part of a morning exercise.
It was nowhere near enough for a quirkless fraud. By the time Yuudai finished his calisthenics, the rosy fingers of dawn crept over the horizon.
Yuudai watched the sunrise with a frown. He always did. He hoped the sunrise would calm him. It never did. His stomach was tied in a knot. His throat burned. His heart thundered in his chest. He couldn’t help but worry how many more mornings he’d have like this. Mornings where the only pain he felt was exhaustion. It couldn’t be many more years. One day, his joints would hurt after this morning routine. They’d never stop hurting after that. All because his father would rather have a fraud than a failure–
Brzzt
A phone buzzed. Yuudai didn’t even check the caller ID. There was only one person who’d call him at dawn. He briefly considered letting the phone ring. He had nothing to say to the man. However… answering wasn’t a real choice. If he let his phone ring, he’d pay for it tomorrow.
Brzzt
“Father.”
The gruff voice of the current number 47 hero Yamasaki Jun HN Doraku came over the receiver. “Did you finish your morning routine?”
“Yes, father.” Just because I’m a fraud doesn’t mean I’m lazy.
“Good. I have some news. I’ve managed to arrange another Omiai for you.”
Yuudai’s stomach turned.
“She’s from Hokkaido, a good family. Her quirk allows her to enter an adrenaline-enhanced state at will. It shall merge well with our bloodline's quirk I think.”
Your bloodline. “I will seek permission from Nishima-san to leave the campus.” Yuudai lied. He had no intention of bringing this to anyone, let alone the headmistress. He wasn’t sure he needed permission, but it was a convenient excuse.
“Don’t bother, I already talked to her. I’ll be there to pick you up the day of.”
Yuudai flinched. Dammit! “… when is the meeting?”
“Sunday.”
“I have plans.” Yuudai silently thanked Lixdite for his unwitting assistance.
“Cancel them, her family’s already here.”
“With respect Father. I will not. A friend was kind enough to invite me out. I will not cancel.”
“… a friend?”
Yuudai didn’t like Jun’s tone. It sounded like he was shocked anyone would decide to be friends with his son. As if anyone other than Jun knew Yuudai was less than a person.
“Yes, a friend,” Yuudai confirmed, more out of spite than truth.
“Who?” Jun asked. He sounded almost interested.
“Lixdite Aquila.”
“A boy?”
“Yes.”
“His name sounds foreign.”
“He’s Italian.”
“I see…”
Yuudai couldn’t tell if Jun disapproved of his having a foreigner for a friend, nor did he particularly care.
Jun sighed. “I’ll cancel the meeting then.”
Yuudai was surprised but glad. He hadn’t expected Jun to agree, let alone so quickly. “That sounds like it would be for the best. Please extend my apologies to the other Miai participant.”
“I will. Though, I doubt her family will agree to another meeting.”
“It cannot be helped.” Yuudai tried to keep the relief out of his voice. “I’m sure you’ll find another quirk.”
“Woman.”
“Right.” You know what you’re after. Don’t correct me. “I’ll let you go.”
“… do you not want to talk to your mother?”
“Not right now.”
“Alright.” Jun hung up. Yuudai put away his phone. He sighed. This wouldn’t be the last time he’d hear about a Miai.
Although he’d only just turned 16, Yuudai had already had a dozen Miai. So far, he’d managed to weasel out of enough meetings for the woman’s family to lose interest. It hadn’t always been easy to miss meetings. Some of those women had been... charming.
Yuudai spent a moment longer watching the sunrise than he usually did. He felt every second tick by as he did. Precious moments of vitality slipped away forever. His heart refused to calm. Part of him wondered if he should just go ahead and allow Jun to arrange the marriage he so clearly wanted. It’s not like Yuudai had disliked any of the girls he’d met.
Yuudai shook his head and stood. No. How could he do that? How could he ask someone else to endure his tomorrows with him? He could never be so cruel.
Yuudai ran to the gym. He had another hour of weight training before he’d call it a morning.
Yuudai was exhausted. He entered the dorm building, then the elevator on shaky legs. He leaned against the wall. The doors closed. Yuudai hadn’t pressed a button yet. He hurt. Everything hurt. His body begged him to rest.
Yuudai gritted his teeth as he pressed the button to take him back to his floor. His finger screamed at the sudden pressure. He didn’t need rest. He needed breakfast and his inhaler, that was all. As the elevator slowed to a stop on the freshman floor, Yuudai put his face on. When the doors opened, he looked usual stoic self. He exited the elevator and entered the common area.
A few of Yuudai’s classmates were scattered about the common area. Gyoyu had somehow trapped Reiji into a conversation. Koroma, Ichigo, Higana, and Atsuko were whispering conspiratorially around a table. From their tittering, Yuudai surmised they were engaged in ‘girl talk.’ Yuudai would’ve steered clear of that even if he wasn’t on the brink of collapse. He went straight for the kitchen.
Yuudai grimaced as he found the kitchen already occupied. There, standing next to the countertop stove, was a purple cat mutant. Her tail flicked disturbingly as she watched her kettle boil. The way her tail moved made it look like she was trying to play with the kettle. Her name was Sankai, the single most unnerving person in his class.
Sankai noticed Yuudai walk in. “Good morning Yuudai-kun.” She smiled at him. The smile was wrong. It was a little too wide. It didn’t reach her eyes quite right. She smiled like an alien had once described the act of smiling to her in a dream.
“Good morning Sankai-san,” Yuudai responded curtly.
If Sankai felt rebuked by the more formal address, it didn’t show on her face. Her grin widened until it split her face. Her head tilted at such an angle that it made Yuudai’s neck hurt.
“H-how are you this morning?” Her voice betrayed the sting of one who’d been rebuked. She didn’t know whether to apologize for being too informal or just move on.
Sankai’s tone made Yuudai flinch. He should’ve just called her -chan to spare her feelings, but her expressions always set him on the defensive. It didn’t help that everything hurt. No, excuses didn’t matter. He had to give her some sign of warmth. If he didn’t, she might grow to resent him. If she resented him, tomorrow would be that much worse.
“I’m fine,” Yuudai answered. It was work to keep the pain and instinctive curt tone out of his voice. He extended an olive branch. “You?”
“I’m great!” Sankai’s tone shifted completely after Yuudai’s olive branch, but her body stiffened and jerked like she was irritated. Her ears were back, and her tail flicked. If it wasn't for her excited tone, Yuudai would think she was about to attack. “Everyone here’s been super nice, and I think I’ll get along with my roommate!”
“That’s good.” Yuudai knelt in front of the cabinet. He ignored the fiery agony in his joints. Every pop sounded like a gunshot to his ears, but Sankai didn’t seem to notice. He retrieved a glass.
“Oh! Do you want some tea?!” Sankai asked excitedly. Yuudai avoided looking at her; it made conversing with her so much easier.
“No. Thank you, but no.” Yuudai stood and walked over to the fridge.
“Eh? Milk?” Sankai prodded. Her persistent questions were beginning to wear on Yuudai’s already raw nerves, but he tried not to show it.
“No.” Yuudai pulled out a carton of blue eggs. Fresh from his family’s estate, they’d arrived last night. He cracked open four eggs and emptied their contents into his glass.
“… eh?”
Yuudai drained the contents of the glass quickly.
“Eugh!” Sankai gagged.
Yuudai ignored her disgust and swallowed. The cold liquid of the uncooked egg whites slid down the back of his throat like a dozen worms squirming into their burrows. The yolks burst as they hit his tongue, washing his mouth with that too-close-to-butter flavor.
“You… you like that?” Sankai asked, trying to stay positive.
“It’s not bad.” Yuudai lied as he washed out his glass. He’d much prefer to eat his eggs boiled. It’d provide the same benefits and, in his opinion, tasted better than raw. However, it’d take time. An inordinate amount of time compared to just drinking the eggs raw. Time spent not taking his 'medicine.'
“Sorry, I just prefer my eggs over rice or something. Aren’t the whites kind of slimy on their own?”
“Yeah,” Yuudai grunted as he filled the same glass with water and drank that.
He could feel the shudder in Sankai’s voice as she asked, “Are you sure you don’t want tea?” It was like she was asking ‘You sure you don’t want something actually GOOD?’
“Thank you for the offer, but no.” Yuudai walked towards the exit. “I’ll see you later.”
“Okay!" Sankai seemed to recover quickly from Yuudai's grotesque display. "Have a good day Yuudai-san!”
Yuudai walked out of the kitchen. He resisted the urge to breathe a sigh of relief. Sankai was a nice girl, but she was exhausting. He walked for his room, glass still in his hand. His muscles screamed bloody murder at him with every motion. They’d been worked to the brink. He needed to hurry up and get to his inhaler.
Yuudai entered his dorm room and found it empty. Lixdite was probably on the roof. He walked over to his bed and pulled out his shaving kit. He retrieved his inhaler.
The inhaler was a small blue device, something his fake diagnosis of mild allergy-induced asthma allowed him on campus. Its contents were registered as a steroid.
Yuudai put the inhaler in his mouth. He pressed the plunger. He inhaled. Aerosol burned his mouth as the cocktail of chemicals floated into his lungs. He held his breath and counted the seconds as they passed.
One, two, three, four, five… twenty-nine, thirty.
Yuudai exhaled, then repeated the process one more time. He could feel the cocktail working. His joints stopped hurting. His muscles relaxed. It was an effective cocktail. It was also the only reason a quirkless fraud could go to a school like Shiketsu.
Putting the inhaler away, Yuudai went to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He came to the empty bathroom and set his shaving kit on the counter. He gazed in the mirror. The mirror showed a handsome young man with an exhausted expression. He saw an exhausted fraud.
Part of Yuudai wanted to end the farce. He wanted to be caught. He knew there was a senpai who could copy quirks. Surely he’d mention that he couldn’t copy anything from Yuudai. He could anonymously turn his inhaler in. The contents of the inhaler would stand up to a cursory analysis, but anything more involved would reveal the different bonding agents and added chemicals. No, those plans were needlessly complex. If he really wanted out, he should confess.
…
Yet, as soon as Yuudai’s nature was exposed, he’d be disowned by his clan. He’d be adrift without any support, with nothing to rely on but a body that would soon fail him. It was either continue like he had been and die a crippled fraud. Or quit now and live the impoverished, still crippled, life of a beggar.
He wasn’t sure which he preferred.
Yuudai brushed his teeth. He showered. He went back to his room and got dressed. When he finished, something possessed him to open his desk drawer. Inside was a piece of paper. Some day...
The door opened. Yuudai closed the drawer. His roommate walked in. Yuudai met Aquila’s eyes. The feathered young man met Yuudai’s eyes for just a second, before averting his gaze.
“Good morning,”
Yuudai didn’t know why Aquila always averted his eyes. He assumed it was a cultural influence.
“Good morning, how are you?”
“Good. Had breakfast. You?”
Yuudai tilted his head. He wasn’t sure if what he did could be called breakfast. “I ate well.” He lied.
Aquila paused. He closed a bag at his waist, probably containing another sandwich. “… are you still coming on Sunday?”
Yuudai raised an eyebrow. “I said I would, didn’t I?”
“You don’t have to force yourself to come.”
“Are you rescinding your invitation?” Yuudai frowned. He hoped not, it’d been a fantastic excuse.
“‘Rescinding’?”
“Revoca.” Yuudai translated.
“Oh! No. I just…”
Aquila clearly had no idea how to continue the thought. A thousand words were dancing on the tip of his tongue. He couldn’t determine what words were right. He didn’t know how close he and Yuudai really were. Could you vent to someone so new a friend? How much could you divulge without burdening the other?
“Did something happen?” Yuudai asked as Aquila’s sentence died in his throat.
Aquila shook his head. “Nothing important. Girl ran from me.”
“Ah.” Yuudai shook his head. Anti-mutant sentiment was alive and well it seemed. He should sympathize, officially his quirk was a mutant type too. Of course, it wasn’t true, but he could still sympathize with blatant discrimination. He’d received enough of the same from Jun.
“Fuck her.”
Aquila gagged at Yuudai’s sudden profanity. He looked at him in shock. The shock was less from the words and more from their source.
“… That was rude, I admit, but I stand by it.” Yuudai sat on his bed. “Anyone who judges another by their quirk” or lack of a quirk “shouldn’t be given a second thought.”
Aquila let loose a sigh. Yuudai couldn’t tell if it was a sigh of exasperation or relief. “Thank you, I suppose, for the… sentiment.”
“Of course.”
“So… you ARE coming on Sunday?”
“I would not miss it.”
Aquila nodded as he turned to gather his supplies for the day ahead. Yuudai did the same. He couldn’t imagine why anyone would be scared of a sweet kid like Aquila. Not when there were scarier things one experienced with every passing second.
Yuudai glanced at the clock. 7:57am, 3 minutes before homeroom started. Every second that passed, IT got closer. Another training session. More hits of an inhaler that was destroying his body. More exercise. More pain. More meals he could hardly stomach. Then, finally, sleep, which would only lead to dreaming of koi. Then he’d wake and do it all again.
How could one fear a man when tomorrow was only a day away?