The asylum was buzzing. The comments from guards, the cries of the few families who still made the effort to see their loved ones, and the aloud spoken thoughts of the insane. It was truly a sad sight.

"Did you hear about why this place was built?"

The boy was alone in the basement. The most soundproof part of the building, and the most secure.

"I heard a rumor, apparently they made this place to house some kid."

After being in the orphanage, after all the comments, after everything they had put him through, the poor child was but a shell of what used to be a person-- the definition of insanity.

"Yeah, apparently he killed his own folks."

There he sat, secluded in his own space. His food was slid in under the door, for water there was a sink— all the reason he had yet to see a human face in years.

"You guys talking about that weird rumor? Because I think it might be true, I heard that someone is scheduled to visit the kid."

A child gifted with full control of his and other people's voice, left alone to rot and never see the sun. Seen as a danger, a nuisance, a disgrace, a true waste of power. A boy who never truly got the chance to be just that, a boy.

"I almost pity the kid. I mean, we all got to do things like play sports and have friends. He'll never get that chance."

His body burned, with the pain he received mentally. The night was cold, or was it day? (Y/n) knew the difference, sort of, but he had never seen the sky himself. Now that he thought of it, where even was he? He had been here so long... How old is he?

"I get that, but it's no skin off our noses."

A man with blond hair walked up to the front desk. He was thin and had speakers on his shoulders. With him was another man with long, black hair and a scarf. They had managed to get information on the poor child, supposedly locked away for the rest of his life, never to see the world around him— or beyond the doors of the basement.

"The visitors should be seeing him in a week, if anyone would want to see a monster like him."

The boy shook in place. He had no means of communication. He had been taught to speak, but there was something in the food that kept him mute. (Y/n) would avoid it, but he can't just not eat. Luckily there were grace periods where he could use his voice, temporarily.

"Where is he?" the black haired male asked.

The woman at the desk put on a fake smile and spoke in a sickeningly sweet voice, "Oh, you two must be here for him."

"Don't talk about him in such a tone, he's only a child." the black haired male snapped. "If anything, you people are disgusting for keeping an innocent child exiled like this."

It's so dark, yet so bright in here at the same time. I wonder what it would look like in here if there was a window? What do windows look like again? I hope I can leave here one day, but why would they let me leave anyway? My own father and brother only came to see me once... I don't blame them though, who would want to see the child that killed your wife and mother, grandparents, parents, and parents-in-law? Even if they were your own... Even if they were just a baby, if it was an accident... A killer is a killer...

"He's in here. I advise you be careful, if his medicine wears off he could be very dangerous." the woman foretold.

"Oh shut up, he's just a child for god's sake."

The man walked down the stairs with a key in hand, the blond being told to stay back. He made his way to the door and stuck the key in the socket. It clicked, the door opened, and he could hear shuffling within the basement walls. He saw a young boy, maybe around fourteen or fifteen, looking at him with a disappointed glint in his eyes.

"Oh wow... It's been a while since I've had a visitor!" (Y/n) smiled. He seems sane enough, I wonder why he's here..?

"Okay. Well, my name is Shouta Aizawa. What's yours?" the black haired man, Aizawa asked.

"I believe my name is (Y/n), but it's been so long since I've heard my name that I barely remember it." (Y/n) answered.

"Very well, next question, how long have you been down here?" Aizawa questioned.

(Y/n) frowned slightly, realizing that after just saying he had no idea, he actually didn't. "No idea sir, could be days, weeks, months, years... Maybe even a decade. Technically, you'd know better than I would."

"Interesting, do you know how old you are?" Aizawa continued.

"Well, assuming I'm the same age I was when I got here, I'm three, sir." This poor child has no idea how much time has passed.

"Understood... On a scale of one to ten, how sane do you think you are?" This question was harsher than the rest, he was done being light-hearted.

"Well, that went from light to heavy super quick!" (Y/n) pointed out. "But I'd give myself solid six, just to be safe."

"That's concerning, why just a six? You seem pretty sane to me." Aizawa seemed to be taken aback.

"I've been okay on my own, but then again I have been through some messed up crap. There's just nothing down here to trigger me."

(958 Words)