The King is Dead

The Curtain of Night

His hands are shaking and he desperately wants them to stop. He presses them against his bare chest in a weak attempt to cease the shaking, to no avail.

Red and blue lights are flashing outside, filtering in through the paper doors and windows. He knows what he did was wrong, he should've endured, like he's been taught so many times. He tries to focus on the sirens and the shouting to open the door, they're the police and he needs to listen but he can't bring himself to. He covers his ears.

He can feel the rough vibrations of doors being kicked through and opened, footsteps coming closer and he just hopes they make it quick. He doesn't want them to touch him. He hates being touched. His siblings aren't here, he's glad. He doesn't know them but he knows they would get in trouble because of him. Because of this.

His eyes drift to the sight of the limp mass next to him. He hasn't moved since he fell back in shock. Since then, the blood has seeped into his pants, his feet were wet with it. He isn't sure if it was his own or not, it's very likely since he had been hurt too.

The light in the hallway just outside the door is turned on, and Shouto presses his palms to his ears tightly. He puts all his strength into the action. The thought of hearing someone and being touched and seeing someone who wasn't father, it's all too much and he feels the exact moment his brain grows fuzzy. It's torture but it's so enticing, he wants it to be dark again. He wants to be numb again.

The door opens and there's a pair of policemen. They look higher ranked than the ones father had shown him videos of. 'They'll get in your way, Shouto. Don't let them. Don't let these useless excuses for men stop you.'

His father's voice infects his head, even as his hands add more pressure to his ears. He can't hear what the officer says into his radio, but he can hear the voice in his head growing and he wants it to stop. Make it stop. He curls his knees up to him, the blood lubricated floor making them slide easily upward. His socks soak up more of the liquid and he wants to puke, wants to go back to the day before when it was just training and puking.

The officers pull their guns up to chin level when he moves, and Shouto almost wants to move again, see if they'll take the bait.

Instead, they move to the side, guns still pointed at his head, and a large figure comes into view. His first thought is that it is his father, but then he smells the iron scent coming from the body next to him and decides it can't be.

No, it's All Might. And of course they'd send the number one to investigate the horrific screaming coming from the number two's. He wonders which neighbors called the police. They've ignored it every other night but once it was Endeavor screaming, it was wrong.

All Might seems to take in the scene before him. His smile falters, he notes the blood puddle growing under Shouto's feet, the large burns and bruises all over Shouto's abdomen and neck and face and everywhere. Shouto watches him grimace as his eyes land on Endeavor's body. He wonders why they haven't checked for a pulse from his father yet.

It's because they're scared of what Shouto will do. He's the culprit. If he took down the number two hero, a few officers would be easy.

All Might gestures for the officers to put their guns down. He makes his way slowly over to Shouto, and the boy feels his body tense. What if All Might is the one to hurt him now? He did something bad, someone had to punish him.

All Might kneels, his shadowy face staring into Shouto's eyes. Shouto doesn't stare back, instead, he looks at his blood-covered feet. He thinks about the bruises underneath his sweatpants, the burns that nobody but him has seen.

All Might waves his hand to grab Shouto's attention. It's gentle and his mouth is pulled into a flat line, only the corners attempt to smile, and it's sad.