False Impression (Togata Mirio x Gender Neutral Reader)

Chapter 1

Part 1

(AN: The story takes place before current Class A. So, Mirio is in his second year.)

During his time at Sir Nighteye's agency, Togata Mirio had seen a lot of scenes that made his eyes widen and nearly lose his cool. But, like the hero he was dreaming of becoming, Mirio always stood tall and kept his composure.

Today, however, seemed to be really testing that willpower to stand among tragedy.

The start to his week at his internship had started out calm. Only a few petty crimes, a lot of lectures from Nighteye, and texts to Tamaki telling him that Fatgum did like him and that he was doing a good job there. The usual experiences and daily trials for him.

But then, right after lunch today, a call came in. Nighteye gathered up his best sidekicks and told Mirio to follow along. He did, noticing right away the dark look on Nighteye's face. Well... darker than usual since the man didn't often smile...

Mirio didn't understand what the longer look was for the journey to where they were going, but as they arrived at the scene of the crime, Mirio could understand why. It was a daycare center that took care of children those's parents worked long hours in some of the more important sectors of Tokyo.

This center in particular was regarded as one of the best. Thus, new parents often tried to get their child in when they had to return to work and needed to find someone trustworthy to put their children's care into.

But, Mirio had a feeling that not even the staff of this place had any idea of how poorly that promise of protecting their children and watching over them would go after the events of today. He had a feeling the staff didn't know that they wouldn't be able to even protect themselves.

The colorful walls of the playroom that Mirio followed Nighteye into were splattered in red and therefore making a huge contrast with the soft pinks, blues, greens, and yellows on the wall as well. But the red on the wall was nothing in comparison to the red that covered the floor.

The polished wood was drenched in red and had piles of where that red originated from also on it. Mirio had to put his hand over his mouth when he took in the scene. Bubble Girl was no better, as she had to rush out of the room and go back outside. Centipeder remained stoic beside Sir Nighteye, but Mirio could tell that even the top sidekick was feeling overcome with emotions the longer he gazed out and took in the scene.

Sir Nighteye moved through the room, careful to not step on any remains or compromise the scene in any way. His intense gaze looked around and seemed to be making mental notes of what was displayed. Mirio stood still, watching. He wasn't sure what to do or what he could do. So... he remained on the side and waited for Nighteye to tell him how he could help when and if that time came.

"Find the logs on the children who were part of this daycare program." Nighteye instructed Centipeder.

"Understood. Is there anything else I should be keeping my eye out for?" The sidekick replied.

Sir Nighteye looked out once more and his eyes narrowed. "Employee logs."

"Will do, Sir." Centipeder responded and started to make his own way through the crime scene to see if he could locate what his boss had asked for.

With Centipeder assigned a task, Sir Nighteye's gaze landed on Mirio. The blonde boy looked at his mentor and the pro-hero sighed. He waved Mirio towards the door and Mirio blinked in surprise.

"Go and check on Bubble Girl." Nighteye told him. "Most people are not able to remain calm when seeing the scene of a massacre. So, go and make sure she's not having a panic attack, Lemillion."

"Will do, Sir!" Mirio told him and started to walk out and back onto the street to make sure Bubble Girl was okay.

Sir Nighteye watched him go before he sighed and looked at the scene once more. The bodies of the young were everywhere, mixed in with the bodies of their staff. It was a scene that would cause years of nightmares. Therefore... Nighteye didn't want Mirio exposed to such a sight for long.

Especially since even Nighteye himself was having trouble standing among the dead.

~~~~~

Was washing up supposed to be this difficult?

You couldn't remember, nor could you find it in you to focus on one thought for more than a moment. Everything was falling apart and the red on your hands was not coming off no matter how much you scrubbed.

It was hard to see your hands though, as your vision was bleary as more tears came and streaked down your cheeks. The world looked fuzzy in your vision but the memories in your head were crystal clear flashes of what had happened. But, there were still gaps. Your memory of what had happened wasn't a clear scene, but rather jumbled pictures of what had occurred in the wrong order, as if they were a puzzle you had to solve in order to see what the image really was.

The idea that you couldn't remember something you went through was hard enough, but seeing how you were covered in blood was another one. It wouldn't come off either. The soap inside of this little public restroom was only supposed to clean minuscule dirt, not the splotches of red you had someone gain.

The sounds of jingling made you jump and nearly let out a scream. The door to the restroom shook and the sounds of muffled voice reached your ears. You held your breath, instantly turning off the water and praying to whatever God still saw you as worthy to help you here.

The voices on the other side of the door signed in frustration, muttering something or another about going into the local fast food joint and using the bathroom in there. It seemed that one single good thing had happened today, and that was that people believed that this restroom was closed since you had locked the door after running in.

You inhaled and exhaled as quietly as you could a few times before turning back to the sink and turning the faucet on once more. The intense scrubbing of your hands started again and you tried to focus and not let your tears or your fractured memory distract you.

It was futile though, as the color on your hands was hard to ignore and even harder to keep your mind from wandering to their faces. The little ones who had all smiled happily at you and tried their best to make you happy with items like crude drawings of what was supposed to be you and them. The times you would have to calm them down when it was time for a snack and how you had to always remind them to not complain about what sort of snack was getting served that day.

You froze and your eyes widened. That was right... one of those little kids needed something that wasn't milk to drink. You had told your boss you'd run to the nearby convenience store and get a juice of some kind. You went to get it... and when you came back-

Your stomach wanted to expel its contents as the flashes of the scene came back into your mind. Your head shook back and forth and you begged that God who had just helped you moments ago to find pity on you once more and allow you to wake up and find this entire scenario had been nothing but a nightmare.

Yet, no matter the number of times you forced your eyes closed and reopened them, nothing changed. It all felt real because it had been real. No sort of odd dream world feeling existed and you soon found yourself staring at your own reflection in the mirror before you. Your eyes were wide as you took yourself in.

Blood.

And a lot of it.

But, despite your panicked and scrambled memories and overflowing emotions, you knew it wasn't the blood of those kids you had on you. No, it was the people who did this. The ones you had stooped down to the level of when you snapped and massacred them yourself.

Or... nearly all of them?

You couldn't tell, but some part of your head was trying to convince you that as you ran out, you saw something. A tattoo that ran across an entire arm. It was a rose on the top of the hand and then twisting and turning vine of thorns that ran up to the shoulder.

You had only seen it for a mere moment as you fled, but you were certain that arm had been moving towards you. Trying to reach you and grab you. Maybe even... make you one of the bodies that littered the floor.

You didn't know. But that didn't matter right now. No. What did was getting this blood off and figuring out where to go from here.