Five things my mother taught me

No. 1: How to chain smoke in a hotel room deliberately labeled "no smoking"

They stayed in hotel rooms a lot when Shinsou was younger. 

He remembers the sign, metallic, a bold "No Smoking", accompanied by a small picture of a lit cigarette, on the inside of the polished door. A five-year-old shouldn't know what that meant, but he did. So when his mother put a cigarette between her teeth and flicked a half-empty lighter a few times, Shinsou pounced a quick, "It says no smoking."

She smiled, placing the lit cigarette down on the bedside table, he made a quick prayer that I wouldn't catch fire to anything.

Misses Shinsou slipped to the window, opened it and tracked back to the bedside and turned on the air conditioning, "there, they'll never know."

"It's cold."

She simply scoffed, taking a long 'needed' drag, "put on a coat then." Smoke pushed from her mouth as she spoke.

He did as told, fetching it from His hero (that he never heard of) themed bag - that was on sale in a corner shop a bit from the hotel they were staying at. He didn't have time to grab his possessions, so Mom kindly picked up a small few items for them.

A child shouldn't think that their necessities and basic human rights are an act of kindness. Especially from their parent.

His Mom was on her third cigarette when he was bored.

"When are we going home?" He pried, kicking his feet from the large chair. It looked like it spun, but was all lies.

Mom was slow to answer, taking two drags before looking back at him, "Soon."

"What is soon?"

"When your Dad leaves."

Shinsou frowned, "I don't want him to leave."

"I do." He didn't want to talk to his Mom anymore, so he vetted on exploring the bathroom. Hotel bathrooms are always cooler than house ones, although the water makes his hands less slide-y, they stay together when he rubs them, and the soap always smelt the same, a weird smell, like water. The baths are square instead of oval and have cool mats or designs on the bottom, and the shower doesn't take long to heat up!

Hotels are cool.

After his bathroom adventure, he goes back into the other room and sees his mom still smoking. It looks like her fourth one. He rummages the drawers, taking the notepad, and pen. He could draw, but he's not really good. Maybe practice his name. His teacher insists he is getting better, and if his quirk is like Dads, he will need to be able to write.

"Stop being nosey, just-just sit there and be good. Your father has you fucking spoilt to the core!" Shinsou's Mother hissed out of nowhere.

He quietly obliged, sitting silently in the bed with his obtained notepad and pen, doodling all sorts of squiggles and gibberish. His Mom left to buy another pack of cigarettes, leaving a five-year-old alone unattended in a hotel room. She didn't come back for four hours, and when she did she was intoxicated and sent him to bed before going back downstairs for the night.