A Valentine's Carol
Not even one?
Satoru wasn't greedy. Really, he wasn't. Grand displays of affection didn't move him, and it was hard to call him particularly entitled to anything other than an internet connection and an outlet.
But to not even get a single giri choco on Valentine's Day?!
Nada. Zero. Mother-fucking-zilch.
There was only one explanation, and it was conspiracy most foul.
Fuckin' gangstalkers...
What did they have to gain? Wasn't his school life bad enough?
The ringing of the lunch bell felt more like the tolling of a church bell at a funeral. Satoru, still seated, watched as girls of all shapes and sizes began the customary doling-out of chocolates, but it was clear their hearts weren't in it. Those blushing gazes and hidden non-obligation chocolates were all saved for specific boys.
And apparently Satoru wasn't even one of them.
On one side of him, a small mountain of chocolates stacked on some prettyboy's desk. On the other, a respectable obligation haul for their friendly class rep.
They were clearly thriving, and thus it wasn't feng shui or the vibes of this part of the room that was at fault.
So why the hell was it that when he looked down, all he saw was a bare desk that had been skipped over by every single girl in his class?!
"Nnnghhghh...!" Hold it in, Satoru. If they sense the slightest weakness, they'll descend like piranhas.
Drowning in enough negativity to make every local empath commit suicide, Satoru surged up to his feet and fled the classroom. I'll show those fuckin' normies...! I'll show them all!
... Needless to say, his 'demonstration' in the cafeteria hadn't gone well. All Satoru wanted was equal-opportunity enforcement! If the dating ban was going to be a thing, then it should be brought down on every normie in Shiketsu, not just the most obvious ones!
At first, a few of his fellow singles had come to his aid, and Satoru dared to feel a flicker of hope.
It had been snuffed out soon enough.
The more the crowd grew, the rowdier they grew. First angry at the couples, then at normies in general, then at the girls who hadn't provided any of them with the slightest obligation chocolate.
(Obviously Satoru hated women too, but they didn't have to make it their whole thing!)
In the end, Karaburan was called in, and Satoru only managed to evade another detention by the skin of his teeth. Now, as the daylight died, he couldn't even feel the sunset's warmth any more as he shuffled down a side road to home.
"Fuck this. Stupid goddamn... Nngnghh..." His face screwed up, head so downcast that he didn't even notice the shadow falling across him until its owner spoke.
"FEAR NOT, BOY!"
GH-! Satoru jerked backwards all of a sudden, neon blue eyes spiraling quicker in panic. Who? What?
Standing before him was... Some kind of pervert in his late 40s? His mustache had been waxed so that one side was longer than the other, and he was dressed in a blue bodysuit with a clock painted messily across the chest.
His eyes widened, and he took another step back.
"Wait, I know you...! You're Future Specter! That vigilante! You only show up before—"
"THAT'S RIGHT," the man trumpeted. "The hopeless! The desperate! Those who look forward only with dread, unaware of the beauty of the future that stretches out before them!"
"... total fuckin' LOSERS!" Satoru finished.
Future Specter slumped a little.
"N-no... Hey, listen, kid. I'm saying you have a whole future before you! A future that contains joy, contains no looming shadow of ex-wives or failed marriages or debt! We are all going to make it, child!"
Horror formed a lump in Satoru's throat. This can't be happening. EVERYONE knew that Future Specter was some friendly neighborhood freak, showing up in front of suicidal wrecks and drunks to try and perk up their day by showing them a better future with his quirk.
Did he look that pathetic? No. No, surely not... It couldn't be that bad.
"Come on. What's got you so down? Got turned down by a girl, on this lovey-doviest of days?" The man tried to salvage the conversation, but it was clear the wind had been taken out of his sails.
He had to get out of here.
"It's... Shut up, I'm going home, I don't need this shit from YOU!"
"W-wait, boy...!"
A hand stretched out, making contact with Satoru's shoulder, and the world...
Spun away.
This wasn't his quirk. Had he made eye contact with someone? But no, he was still upright. Satoru could still feel the concrete beneath his feet, the sunlight on his skin.
Yet whatever his body was feeling didn't match up with the vision he could see before him at all. A low foggy haze surrounded Satoru, until it slowly cleared to reveal what lay beneath.
Sickly white light shone down on a rumpled hospital bed. Someone lay there on it, a bandage wrapped round his head and covering his ears. He was a little taller than Satoru, a little more muscular, a little...
He swallowed thickly.
Was that him?
"BOY!" JESUS CHRIST. Satoru almost leapt out of his skin, frantically casting his gaze around the room. "What you see before you is one of many potential futures! This could indeed be you, one day, if you apply yourself! Drink deep of your potential."
What? Apply himself? What the fuck was he talking about? Before Satoru could open his mouth, though, a rustling at the door interrupted him. That was... Saori? His sister, looking several years older as well, and carrying a whiteboard for some reason as she sat on the edge of the bed.
"Heeeey, Mr. Bigshot Hero-kun!" Her voice sounded like it rose from the bottom of a well, distant and tinny.
What? Satoru felt disgust clench around his heart.
The him that lay in the hospital bed gestured towards his ears, grinning wryly. Satoru's sister pouted, and began to scrawl across the whiteboard.
HOW ARE THE EARS?
Hospitalized Satoru shrugged, words coming out slightly slurred. "Mmh... 'kay... Not looking forward to learning how t'walk again..."
What the fuck was going on? What was he LOOKING at, here? Satoru could feel his face twitch.
I STILL DON'T LIKE IT.
"Well... Lockdown suit wasn't coming together... Should fix th'vertigo, coming back to my body..."
Huh? He was talking about... His quirk? Why the hell would Satoru be using his quirk regularly?
LOOK AT YOU, ALL RESPONSIBLE AND STUFF. NOT EVEN INVASIVE INNER EAR SURGERY CAN KEEP YA DOWN
"Jesus fucking christ, one version of me grows up to be some kind of HERO CUCK?!"
His voice seemed to shatter the illusion before him, and it swirled away as the haze replaced it once more. Future Specter's voice sounded slightly hurt as he spoke up again.
"You didn't like it...? I thought it was the best future out of all of them, really. Most kids would love to grow up and become an underground hero! Well... Maybe we can try this one on for size."
An ordinary office.
Ordinary computers, ordinary desks. Even the workers seemed ordinary, until Satoru peered closer.
Bandaged hands. Cringing posture. Deeper eye bags than on the usual office worker.
His head turned, seeking himself once more and finding him at a cubicle, face bathed in a white glow as fingers tapped weakly at the keyboard. What time was it? The building had no windows. The computer said it w-
2 AM?!
What the fuck? Wagie him was working these kinds of overtime hours? He couldn't have been older than his early twenties and he looked like he'd been chained to his desk for the past fifty years.
A hand suddenly reached through Satoru's ghostly chest, causing the boy to gulp in shock as it suddenly laid a stack of papers at the edge of his future self's already-nearly-full desk. He turned, staring at the one man in the office who didn't seem suicidal as he leaned against the edge of Satoru's cubicle.
"Heyyy, Tani! Great work on those financials. Unnnfortunately, we're gonna have to ask a little more of you. You know how it is, newbies gotta prove themselves. We don't want a repeat of last time, yeah?"
The Satoru at the desk flinched at just the implication of whatever 'last time' meant, before nodding quietly. The boss clicked his tongue in approval before sauntering away.
How was this supposed to be a good future?! It was a goddamn black company...! He was being exploited! Meanwhile, the future Satoru fished out his cell phone, punching in a number slowly.
"Saori...? Hey. Sorry... I'm not gonna be home tonight. Yeah, again. I- I know, I'm... I gotta go."
Beep.
"Ah, see! See!" Like an annoying younger brother, Future Specter's voice wormed its way into Satoru's ear. "That's why I selected this one next. A nice, ordinary life is what you want, no? You'll find a bride yet, boy, you just need to up your confidence! One day you'll leave this company behind, but still have the love of your life at your side!"
"... Dude... Saori is my sister's name."
Future Specter lapsed into an embarrassed silence.
"Well. Ahem. That's... Worry not! I'm sure this next one will be a doozy, then! We'll find you a good ending yet, boy!"
"Can you stop calling me boy?"
The office disappeared.
Soon, the next future came into view. It was...
It was...
...
Satoru shuddered in revulsion. Next to him, he could feel Future Specter shake slightly as well.
"A... Ah. Uhm, I don't... I don't know what to say. My condolences...? Congratul—"
"NOTHING. WE'RE SAYING NOTHING ABOUT THAT ONE." Even blinded to the real world, he could feel his ears erupt into crimson. Don't think about it, don't think about, just repress it and act like you didn't see a thing... "We are NEVER acknowledging what fucking happened there again."
"... Agreed, boy. Maybe if I pick one at random..."
"Could you fuckin' quit it with th—"
The scene changed on its own once more.
Satoru... Wasn't here?
All he could see was a kitchen, a little domestic slice of paradise. Several dishes were being prepared, apparently the main course of a romantic dinner, as a mousy-looking black haired woman tended to each of them with an unsteady hum.
The sound of keys came from the front door, and ah, there he was. In stepped yet another Satoru. Older, tired around the eyes but not nearly as bad as the one who'd been working in the black company, and shouldering a well-worn frown. Something about him seemed... Off. The dark-haired woman perked up, almost skipping over.
"Satoru! Happy Valentine's Day, darling...! I know you just wanted dinner, but I got you a little something...!" Her voice seemed trapped between insecurity and a projected, frantic sort of desperation. This had to work, for some reason, as she shyly extended a box of chocolates to future Satoru.
The man stared at them with dead eyes, and Satoru finally figured out what had been bothering him: his spiral eyes weren't spinning in the slightest.
"I see. You can... Put it on the counter. I'll be in my room until supper." Shouldering off his coat, Satoru didn't even bother to look twice at his wife as he slouched down the hall.
She moved like a ghost as she entered the kitchen once more, face empty.
Something seemed to crack.
"H... He doesn't love me... Doesn't appreciate me, doesn't even look at me...!" The woman's voice wavered, half-manic and tremulous. Her whole body seemed to quake alongside it. "Years, and years and years and years and years and STILL, he..."
Her eyes fell on the knife.
Uhhhhh.
"He has it coming...! He'd..."
UHHHHH.
His perspective lurched, dragged behind her as she sprinted like a woman possessed, half-screaming and half-laughing, knife raised in the air as she moved at speeds that just weren't right for such a small home.
Satoru's bedroom door slammed open. He seemed oblivious, lost in the screen and his headphones.
In real life, Satoru could feel Future Specter blindly groping at his face.
"B-boy! Close your eyes! No child should see this!"
The knife rose.
"S-stop it! Get off of m-JESUS CHRIST OH MY FUCKING—"
Satoru and Future Specter were sat on a curb, nursing an ice cream bar each as they stared glumly at the sunset.
He'd seen gore before, obviously. It was all over quirkchan. Leaked bodycams, Chinese security tapes, footage from warzones in the third world. It was amazing how badly someone's body could be damaged.
But seeing a knife sink into his own neck was a little far even for him.
"You know, Boy, I can see more timelines than just those... If you'd like, I—"
"No fuckin' thanks." Satoru took another slow bite, chewing delicately on the cold chocolate-and-dairy slush.
A shadow fell across the pair.
"And what's THIS I spy with my misty eyes?" A woman, seemingly around Future Specter's age and dressed in what looked like a halloween store's worst steampunk costume, sneered down at the pair. "Future Specter, brought low at last! Finally tired of your pathetic optimism, have you?"
"M... Madame Nostalgia...!" Future Specter stared up in horror, his mustache still covered in ice cream.
Just my luck. There are two of them.
The woman extended her hand down to Satoru, grinning maniacally. "It seems I have you to thank for dealing with my meddlesome foe! What say you, boy? Would you like to follow in my footsteps? Champion the cause of the past?"
"Gross. Go away, hag."
Satoru took another depressed bite, unable to drown his sorrows in chocolate any longer but willing to try anyways.
"... Geez, what's up with this kid? What's got you so down? Got turned down by a girl, on this lovey-doviest of days?" Madame Nostalgia turned to Future Specter, frowning.
Why is this the SECOND time I'm hearing this today. God damn it. Satoru didn't even have any anger left, opting to sigh deeply instead of getting into another shouting competition.
"Lady, can you give it a break?"
"Never!" A gloved fist rose to the sky. "Not until all understand the glory of the past! A world where once you were happy, where your marriage hadn't yet fallen apart, your husband still loved you and wouldn't go gallivanting off to save anyone but you... Allow me to show you the fruits of my labors, and remind you of your very first love!"
He tuned it all out. Even as she tugged her gloves off, reaching out to press her finger against the center of his forehead, Satoru couldn't bring himself to care.
Well, whatever. It was just one more trip down memory lane, right?
"U-uhm...! I have... I got a... thing, for you..."
The years parted like distant curtains. Elementary school. A snotnosed Satoru Tani, not even 10, stood unsteadily before a blonde girl with a pair of ornate antlers, flanked by two obvious flunkies. Her face twisted into a decidedly unchildish sneer. "Haah?"
But little Satoru paid no attention. He wiped at his nose, setting down the toy robot and winding it up. The toy trundled forward on clockwork and hope alone, one wobbly foot set down in front of the last until...!
It tumbled over just a few feet away from the girl.
"Uhhm... Th... There'sh a card inside it... An' chocolate..."
I like you a whole bot! Happy White Day, it said. His mom had helped him make it.
The girl immediately broke out into laughter. Her flunkies followed nervously, after looking to her for confirmation.
"Ahaha, what?! That's so lame...! How weird can you get? Just say it normally!"
Little Satoru's eyes started to water alongside his running nose.
"e...geeehgheheeeghghhhhmnnghgh...."
Sniffle-sniffle.
Young Satoru whirled around to try and flee, but tripped over his own untied laces.
The laughter got louder.
... Madame Nostalgia had joined the two of them sat on the curb, holding a half-unwrapped ice cream bar of her own as she stared sadly at nothing. The last vestiges of sunset danced above the distant horizon, but its warmth had long since lost any luster. Only a lambent glow remained, illuminating three very depressed, very single losers at the end of Valentine's Day.
At least Satoru could say that he'd singlehandedly stopped two villains, even if it largely involved dragging them down with him. That was worth something, right?
... nah.
Satoru balled up his wrapper, tossing it out in the road. Fuck it, littering was the least of his problems. Maybe the pelican or whatever that choked on the fucking wrapper would be some stupid alpha pelican with a harem, and he'd be doing the species a favor by shoving him out of the gene pool...
"This sucks."
Future Specter grunted in agreement. Madame Nostalgia just sighed.
How had it come to this? This couldn't be happening to him. Satoru was a good...
Well, he was at least an average person! And this had been a decidedly below-fucking-average Valentine's Day.
They'd talked things out, the three of them. Satoru's horrible day, Madame Nostalgia and Future Specter's years-old divorce whose gravity they still couldn't seem to escape. Why the hell did he have to play couples' therapist for some gross-ass adults?
"You know, Tani-kun... This is technically chocolate. Want a bite? I bet I could make all your friends jealous, I think I've still got it! Ohohohohoho...!" Madame Nostalgia tried a smug laugh, offering part of her ice cream bar.
First of all: what friends? Second... Gross. I can see your cellulite, lady. His face did little to hide his disgust, but Satoru swallowed the worst of it, looking away.
"I'm good."
Maybe he could still bounce back from this. A hand rose to rub at his temple - the day wasn't over-over yet, right? He wasn't about that brocon shit, but maybe Saori would have a leftover chocolate or two at home for him, something, anything to coat over his damaged ego.
Like a bolt from the blue, it hit him.
When Satoru clambered to his feet, there was almost something resembling a pep in his step.
"Wait... I have one thing going for me, at least...!" His head rose, eyes going wide. They seemed to brighten, pace quickening like he'd captured the last few sparks of daylight in them, while the two vigilantes stared up in shock.
"I'm not either of YOU sad fucks!"
The pair froze, Satoru's grin growing wider.
"I mean, seriously. I'm still young, so I can basically keep procrastinating forever...! I still have the present! Even if things aren't great, at least I don't have to worry about being some pathetic divorcee who's got nothing better going on in their life! Hah!"
All of the tension Satoru had been carrying escaped him with a loud, sustained laugh of relief as the boy slipped his hands in his pockets, and the former married couple, rapt with confusion, watched the now-energized Satoru practically skip down the road.
He didn't even bother to leave either of them with a goodbye.
"I don't think... he's taken the right lesson from all of this..."
Somehow, though, it didn't feel like it was entirely the wrong lesson either. The pair avoided each others' gazes guiltily.
Maybe this Valentine's Day wasn't so bad after all.
Ganbare, Tani-kun?