The Commission's Game

Medicine

Kurogiri was doing his best, as what was taught of him ever since waking up. He knew something was vaguely not right; not normal. But then again, he had never felt normal, so by default, wasn't not normal considered his new normal? 

His mind ached with an ever present, ever energy-intaking fog. 

No matter what thoughts ran through his head, he felt stuck in the same revolutions of actions. Cleaning the same glass over and over again. Watching over the same warehouse without seeing anyone. Everyone was faceless, so much so that their figures seemed like mere blurs. Some days it felt like Kurogiri could only distinguish people by their voices. 

It didn't used to be this way. He could just barely think back to view glimpses of movement in his life. Where he would help Sensei plot, watch over the group and even sometimes commit crimes. But he couldn't remember when he had stopped or why. 

Only that one day, his head had begun hurting more than usual. And that sometimes colorful bits of memories long since forgotten had begun flitting through his cranium in flashes. But the more he grasped to remember them, the less physical they became. 

His joints had been aching more as well. Nothing horrible, but sometimes a dull throbbing would encapsulate his body, making his focus on work dwindle. 

He was just relieved that Sensei had yet to take notice of the slight slacking Kurogiri had been prone to as of late. The bartender had seen what All for One had done to previous "slackers" and most commonly, they weren't seen again after attending a "talk" with the head villain. And although Kurogiri was in the man's favor, it could also be easily swayed if the man deemed him useless. 

Kurogiri shuddered, spine flexing ever so subtly, as if it wanted to pop. The warp villain tilted his head, effectively cracking his neck and easing the urge slightly. Nevertheless, he continued cleaning the same godforsaken glass. 

He looked around the room, taking note of the presence of Twice, Dabi, and Spinner. The former was sleeping sprawled out on the couch while the latter duo intently battled each other in a game of Mario Kart. Dabi was losing, if his steaming controller was anything to go by. Spinner was leaning so far forward that he was barely on the couch, eyes locked on the screen. 

Kurogiri wondered how many seconds they would take to kill him if he unplugged the console at this exact moment. 

Suddenly, the sound of someone descending the stairs resonated loudly through the air. Kurogiri could almost call the sound angry. Almost.

He looked at the man who was entering, only to find Shigaraki. His light blue hair was messy and he had bags under his eyes. He was known to pull all-nighters for the sole purpose of beating video game levels he deemed challenging enough. But if the sweat rolling down his forehead and pale skin was enough to go by, Kurogiri concluded the leader wasn't feeling well. 

Shigaraki made a beeline to the bar, sitting on a stool and avoiding eye contact. 

"You ran out of medicine?" Kurogiri mumbled, taking a look at the pasty skin of the boney man. The cuts on his neck and around his eyes seemed oddly vivid on his face. The warping villain carefully pressed the glass on the counter, hanging the hand towel on a pipe off to the side. 

"Ye-es." Shigaraki answered, voice gravely and thin yet deep. He had clearly both just woken up and lost his voice. 

"I'll have to speak to Sensei." Kurogiri warned as he turned his back to the leader as he prepared a glass of cold honey water. 

"Just get me the medicine." Was the blunt reply. Kurogiri nodded as he finished up and placed the glass on the counter. He backed up a few steps, noting Shigaraki's grateful nod and warped away seconds later. 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

He appeared outside the closed doors of All for One's office. He shivered once more, hating the fact that past these doors was such an evil entity. His whole body screamed in protest, practically begging him to turn around and run far, far away. Yet at the same time, he knew he couldn't. 

All for One already knew he was here anyways. 

Kurogiri still politely knocked on the door, asking for entry. Once given permission, the doors opened and he stepped through. 

A gust of wind made his misty body sway slightly, not expecting the air to be whisking around the room. For a split second, he looked for the source, only to not find any. It must have been one of All for One's quirks. Kurogiri shrugged it off. 

"What do you need?" The number one villain asked, not turning his head to even remotely act like he was looking at the bartender. It didn't matter though, Kurogiri knew the villain could see him. A small smile made the scarred skin ripple, a malicious glee fluttering through the air surrounding All for One. 

Kurogiri didn't understand it or why the man was suddenly in a good mood, and quite frankly he didn't want to ask questions. He didn't want to be in here longer than he actually had to. And if he didn't leave soon, he felt as if he would definitely slip up and be deemed a failure ready for termination. 

Just because Kurogiri had a difficult time deciphering the purpose of his life, doesn't mean he wanted to die. 

He swallowed the rising bile in the back of his throat. "Shigaraki needs the medicine." He spoke clearly. 

This time, he couldn't hold back the shiver as it crept up his spine. He recoiled at the invasive feeling of invisible fingers sliding up his spine and flitting across the bones like a spider on a web. 

All for One's smile only widened, yellow, crooked teeth peeking out. "Of course," he drawled slowly.