WARNING: This chapter contains brief mentions of substance use (weed); depictions of robbery, gore, death, and the deaths of children. If you aren't comfortable with these things please don't read further‼️

Introducing for Episode Two 〃What Became Of The Sad Man And His Parade?〃

Nothing Is Gonna Be Okay
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Manato Shuzo

Twenty Two. Male. He - Him. Straight. 6'0.
Trying To Get By. Girl Dad. Working With Calloused Hands. Raging Voices. Black Tar Coffee. Apparitions In The Dark. Blood Soaked Tragedies. The 'Villian'.

( One Year Ago,, Saitama Japan )

"For the last four months we've seen a flux in the number of petty crimes," the reporter states," there have also been more incidents with villians using experimental quirk boosting drugs. What is it the commission has to say Mr. Takami?"

My face soured as the blonde guy started talking about all the measures that have been put in place for stated incidents to remain singular and the open investigative cases on the new drugs that started popping up on the market.

I'd never met the guy in person of course- what kind of dude would I have to be to even get close to the head of the HPSC?

Even so, for as long as I can remember I'd never liked Keigo Takami- as stupid as it sounds. There's something about him that makes this weird ghost-like burning sensation slice up my chest.

"Hey Shuzo!" Chika leaned out of the managers office, oil smudged on her tan cheek and her pale pink hair in a loose ponytail," your out in thirty!"

Shooting her back a thumbs up, I stuffed the rest of my veggies from my bento in my mouth. The clock up by the break room TV said it was nine twenty five and immediately I was hustling back into the shop. The space was loud even at this time of night, with a small team of tecs working on the cooling system of a Yaris.

Matty Kade and Pei were already underneath the kei truck that had come in at twelve for multiple broken parts. When I joined them, Matty glanced at me for only a moment before looking back at a piece of the fuel tank he's been fiddling with all day. Pei was singing to his radio under his breath but gave me a cheesy smile when I slid under the truck.

"Lucky bastard, I wish I got packed bento boxes for dinner," he grumbled with faux petulence. Rolling my eyes, I reached over to knock him in the forehead with my knuckles playfully.

"Not my fault my neighbor takes pity on me."

"Or shes' pinning for you," Matty offers around the pair of pliers between his teeth.

Cringing, I tried not to imagine white haired Ms. Takahashi making me food while thinking about how she hopes to sway my affections for her. With a shiver I reached over to take the pliers from my coworkers teeth.

"Matty she's seventy."

"I met a cougar who was eighty three pal," Pei interjected," if there's a will for those girls, there's a way."

HAHAH! THATS HILARIOUS! No that's so WEIRD! Endearing, that's what it is.

Shaking my head, I tried to wipe the slate.
Like my strong distaste for former hero Hawks, all my life my thoughts had done that: say things I don't even know if is actually me thinking them. I've never felt like I have DID so I just try to ignore them.

"Guys come on I have less than a half hour before I clock out. Can we not fill my head with doubts about the woman who very kindly makes sure I'm not starving?"

"Yeah yeah, sure pal," Matty smiled ruefully as he narrowed his eyes at the part above him in calculation.

The three of us worked with the ambience of Pei's music and the other natural sounds of the shop in the background. The bottom of this truck was messed up bad; kei truck drivers really should get license tests for how reckless they are on the road.

Eventually when I glanced back at the clock I could see I'd gone over almost ten minutes. Biore would be at my apartment in fifteen minutes and would be pissed if I weren't there. Her weekend with Otome and Zen was up and it was back to being with me during the week.

Giving my buddies a quick goodbye- Matty jerking his chin while he continued to work and Pei laughing because he knew what was gonna happen if I didn't hurry- I rushed to my locker to get my stuff. My coat was halfway on me when I pushed out into the fresh night air and jogged to my truck. The drive was short thank god, though traffic at night in this country ran thick at all hours of the day and night.

As I started my vehicle up, I pondered what it was I'd have for dinner now that the girls were home. I was gonna saute mushrooms with pork and put it on rice with edamame, but Otome hates mushrooms and Zen hates edamame. You know for three year olds they're horrendously picky.

Those kids got it right, mushrooms and edamame? Horrible. HEY LEAVE THE POOR GUY ALONE! THOSE ARE BOTH GOOD FOR YOU! Anyone else in the mood for American Buffet?

For once the little choir at the back of my mind actually had a mildly good idea. I could take them out for dinner at the American style restaurant down by the park. Then we could probably go over to say hi to Ms. Takahashi and I could thank her for my bento boxes.

A small content sigh huffed from my chest and I rolled my window down to let my hand hang out. Driving had always tapered this strange buzzing my body always had, like it wanted to split and morph into different shapes at all times. Something about the machine I sat in and the road ahead held my mind together like automotive glue.

Along with the buzzing, sometimes I'd have weird senses of deja'vu too though; like the time I went and smoked weed with some friends in middle school under a bridge for example. We'd been buzzing and messing around, when suddenly I was sitting across from some guy by a similar bridge. I couldn't see his face but I swore I smelled cigarette smoke in the air and there was a small fire in front of me.

As quick as it came, the scene was gone. When I'd gone home that night, I'd talked to my uncle about it and he kind of joked it could be my past life's memories coming back to haunt me. See, my grandma believed in reincarnation and always preached that if our past selves had things they still wanted to accomplish, or had been wronged: that it would come back and haunt us.

Of course I don't believe in it- I've never been big on religion or stories like the ones you hear about yokai. But still, I wish I knew what it had been. And I wish when I went to the psychiatrist for my intrusive thoughts that they'd been able to do something for me, though because technically they prescribe anything for random thoughts, they couldn't help.

My mind slowly emptied as I drove home, the traffic thinner by the time I got to my small apartment building. It wasn't anything special, but it was as cheap as I could find without being rundown and fit me and the girls when I had them.

Parking on the street, I hopped out of my truck and made my way up to the door. My keys jingled and a smile was already on my lips at the thought of Otome and Zen running up to hug me- even with their Mt. Fuji of a mother standing behind them ready to chew me out for holding her up from whatever it was she was going to go do.

The door swished open as I came in and I braced for impact.

But it never came. Concerned at how quiet it was I had to wonder if maybe Biore was late. She did love being punctual (mostly to rub it in my face because I was horrible with time keeping), but she was still human and any human can lose track of time at some point.

Taking my shoes off and putting my slippers on, I hung my jacket up and put my keys on the little Baby Felix and Friends key hook that Zen picked me out for my birthday.

Rounding the corner of the small hall into the kitchen and living room I felt unease jolt back up in me. The lights were on. I turned them off this morning. I always did.

The next few moments slid through my mind like a mirage. Like they were being seen by someone else and I was just there to watch.

There was so much blood. Almost instantly the buzzing in my head grew a little louder. It felt like a little gang of workers were taking jackhammers to the middle of my skull and trying to pry it open.

My girls were laying on the ground with red spilling from their bodies like unwelcome weeds in a garden. I very nearly couldn't register it. Zen laid on the ground, her small body was laying awkwardly and there was red in three spots on her body. Otome's pale blonde hair was messy and she was on her stomach, her little cheeks still damp with tears.

The entirety of my being nearly felt apart like I had no skin; muscles, tendons, bones, blood vessels all spilling on the ground in a tangled heap.

Biore was halfway between them, blood still pouring from the hole in her neck and chest. As much as she and I hadn't gotten along, I'd never stopped thinking how beautiful she was.

The sound of my sliding glass door to the small balcony of my home-hell-, mildly pulled me out of my hurricane of everything and nothith at once. The wiry frame of a person stood there with a full, bulky bag and a gun in their other hand.

That sense of deju'vu was back, and for a moment there was a guy with a face and not a ski mask. He was dead. They were all dead. They all looked the same. Like me. But they weren't me. I was the real one. I'm the only one left.

Rrrrrrip.

My soul was shredded. The stranger immediately bolted and I felt power that I never dared touch leech through my rancid blood. It had to be acidic with rage, sorrow, and pain. It hurt so much. At first I didn't even move. Didn't even register the physical excursion that my body felt as my bones readjusted to be bigger, thicker: monstrous.

My vision was red. Everything was red. Voices were screaming things in unison.

The thief ran through thin side streets in the dark but I knew. I knew. He'd never hide from me. No predator could hide from their own hunter.

I hadn't used my quirk since I was a little kid. My mom and dad knew it wasn't good for me and it was dangerous- and I guess they were right; obviously a quirk with the name Kaiju shouldn't be used. Any sensible person would probably wear inhibitors for their safety and others. Why hadn't I?

I think because deep down I knew. That monster was the only part of me that was really me. It wasn't a voice that said things that I'd never say. It was never contradicting. It made me whole.

But this criminal, whoever they were ( from the build had to be a guy my age ), they would never know what it felt like to be whole again. That's unless they can heal from being torn apart muscle by muscle, tendon by tendon. Madness, bloodlust, grief- they poured from the cracks in my soul that had always been there: just sealed up with the glass of my humanity. And I knew in that moment, I wondered if there had ever just been me. If there had ever just been Manato Shuzo. Or if it had always been someone else.

─────

Tossing yet another mass murder report on my desk, I dragged a hand over my scruffy chin. We still hadn't caught the person responsible for these attacks but they were making trying to catch under cover ops very difficult.

It was hard to tell if that was this person's intent, but this was definitely something that needed to stop. The amount gore at these scenes of these attacks was somehow worse than almost anything I've seen in my now eight years as head of the Safety Commission.

There's no clear motive to them either- the victims all seem kind of random, with the only common denominators being that their men. No women or children victims, but it seems like every male, eighteen and up, is free game to be maimed.

A soft knock at the door to my office made me lift my head from my hands and I sat back in my chair.

"Come on in," I call out and watch inquisitively as one of my favorite paperwork people walk in. Yasha's black hair is up today, in an unceremonious bun and she's sporting a gray sweater with jeans and converse. So funny how one of the most serious people I know dresses so laid-back at work.

"We've got another one," she states with a concern in her voice as she puts a new file in my pile. She goes over a lot of the things I see to make sure I'm not missing anything, so she's seen a lot of these cases details too.

"They're getting worse. This one was less people but a dude literally got pulled apart Takami," she says, leaning a hand on my desk.

"I thought the first body we found was going to be the worst of we found anymore, but this is just nasty."

With a nod, I folded my hands back together and took a deep breath. Putting my forehead on my fist for a moment, I kept my gaze on my desk while I thought.

This villain needed to be caught before more people died. But at the same time we can't exactly tell the public yet because we don't even know why these people are dying. From background checks and inquired information they all seemed not too bad; besides the first victim who'd been a small time thief and a few other petty criminals.

Lifting my head, I flashed her a reassuring and confident smile. As much as I wanted to worry, I needed to have a brave face for everyone so we can all keep level heads.

"You're right. And we are going to figure this out. I'm gonna meet with TPD tomorrow and we're gonna make a game plan. We'll catch this guy: no problem."