Blooming Wounds

•[Prologue]•

"Tsukasa-san, don't waste all the water, we've still got another dozen plants to pot!" A buxom woman calls out, fixing the strap of her faded overalls.

        The sound of running water and scrubbing halts within seconds.
"A'right, Tess, don't have'ta tell me twice." The aforementioned Tsukasa-san shortly wanders in, carrying two watering cans, pink and green respectively. He roughly sets them down, before beginning a series of crackling pops down his spine through cracking his back. The woman wraps her arms around his shoulders, helping the stout man to sit down.

    "Now, now, there's no good in blowing your back out, is there, dear?" She plants a kiss on the crown of his head and calls her children down for their dinner.

Two boys come bounding down the stairs, followed by a disgruntled teen who, in a similar manner to his father, cracks his back.

    "Oh, not you too. Don't tell me, you were up all night studying for your big Yuuei examination." She directs him to help her distribute the plates.
    "You shouldn't stress so much over it, honey. Even if you don't make it as some bigwig hero, you know you will always have a job here at the shop."

The young adult grumbles.
    "Yeah, I have a bright future of washing potatoes and selling cabbage seeds ahead of me. I can't wait to seize that amazing opportunity." His voice is laced with sarcasm.

One of the younger boys grabs his brothers attention.
    "Is it really true you got recommend for the exam? Man, I wish I'm that lucky when I'm older!" This makes the eldest son smile before retorting:

    "Yeah, except you'll probably eat all the potatoes you're supposed to wash."

    "Hey, no fair!" The boys continue bantering back and forth, a jovial warmth covering the table.

÷÷÷

    "No way he of all people got recommend for Yuuei."

    "He's basically a criminal! No way that's true."

    "As if he'd even pass the written exam anyway... I can count the number of times I've seen him in class on one hand."

A girl wearing a copious amount of product clings closer to the mentioned boys arm, bouncing on her heels with every step, her hoop earrings following suit.
    "Don't listen to those virgin assholes, [m.n]. You know they're just jealous of you." She attempts to cheer his sour mood to no avail. She pouts but continues to compliment him nonetheless.
    "They're just sad that they lead boring lives and have boring friends. You are way cooler and so much more attractive than they are and you have great friends." She motions to herself. The boy still doesn't respond.
    "Hey, you know this isn't how conversations work, right?"

He stays quiet, though they shortly stop, coaxing his response.
    "... You're right."

The girl looks at him in perplexed disbelief.
    "What?"

    "Do you have to make me repeat myself?"

The girl, still confused, elaborates.
    "Well, you usually never say that."

    "Well, you usually never say anything right." She hits him over the head, which the boy didn't complain to, knowing it was deserved.

    "So... Wanna skip class?"

÷÷÷

To say the last few years had been rough on [m.n] would be an understatement. An accumulation of several ill events had landed him in government mandated therapy for his 'anti-social behaviour', as they called it.

The therapist-for-hire pinches the bridge of his nose, frustrated with his patient.
    "You know, [m.n], we can't just discuss the villain attack every session. We've covered every possible aspect of it."

    "Actually, I don't think I told you how it smelt. Maybe I should just write a mini essay on the five senses and we can call it a day." He jokes, though it doesn't mask his nervous sweating and fidgeting.

    "Okay, one, you've already described the smells of that day: it included, but was not limited to vomit, smoke, bottomless despair, bottomless chilli nacho fries, and peppermints."

    "Well it's not my fault I got attacked in a movie theatre!" The teen scoffs at the turtle neck wearing professor.

    "Secondly, make all the jokes in the world, but we have yet to discuss the death of your..."

[M.n] interjects.
    "Did you know I failed my science test last week. I think it'd be really effective to discuss that, how my lack of concentration is likely due to being stuck in here every week!"

    "Calm down." The doctor takes a minute to calm himself, realising he is very close to shouting at his patient.
    "You know what? I'm hearing you."

    "Great, so can I go?"

    "You've been skipping class, haven't you?"

[M.n] pauses in an awkward in-between movement of standing from a chair and leaving. Before responding, he decides he should sit.
    "I'm guessing you want to ask me why I've felt the need to skip class, despite being a 'perfectly capable young man', in the flowery words of my teachers."

The therapist sighs. He hates when patients think they're above therapy and talking about their feelings. However, he realises that if the patient believes they've solved their issues without a third party, they'll feel more justified in their actions, so he will humour [m.n], for now.
    "If you were a therapist, how would you answer?"

The [height] male ponders for a moment.
    "I think... Okay, so you know how as recompense for what happened, the hero who I helped recommended me for the Yuuei examination..." [M.n] makes a point to prolong this thought process by leaning back in his chair and taking an arduous sip of water.
    "I think I maybe - no, scratch that - I definitely don't want to take the exam."

The therapist leans forward slightly, intrigued at his patients self awareness. The silence encourages [m.n] to speak more.
    "I suppose that's why I've been skipping class. They can't accept me if my grades and attendance tank." The boy nervously chuckles.

    "Why don't you just not take the exam?" A simple but obvious question.

    "Because who turns down a recommendation at the most prestigious hero academia in Japan? If I were to do that... I don't know, it'd be a wasted chance otherwise. People already hate me due to all the fighting and everything, so imagine how good it'd be to rub it into their faces."

÷÷÷

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