Ordinary - (Dabi x OC)

Veracity (Part One)

Trigger warning: violence, and light gore

Akio POV:

As human beings, we are always attracted to light.

We can't help it, whether we like it or not, it's ingrained in us like moths to a lightbulb. Our souls feed off it because without light, we would simply perish. I guess we're fragile in that way.

But, light itself is just as fragile. It only grows when you nourish it. If it's not nurtured, it fades until it dies out completely, leaving everything in its wake dark. It's a valuable resource, and not something we can be greedy with.

I never knew how 'valuable' I was until that day. The day where having so much light within myself would ultimately be the darkest curse of my life.

- Eighteen Years Ago -

The morning sunrise filtered in through the windows of my primary school, slipping between the openings of my fingers like ethereal ribbons. The soft rays were always attracted to me, whether it was because of my quirk or just coincidence, I'll never know, but I've always loved light just as much as anyone else, even if I'm one of the people who can produce it on a whim.

My charcoal pencil continued to dance along the pages of my sketch pad, making the canvas come to life in the form of simple lines was the brightest spark within my soul. It's been like that for as long as I could remember, living in this small mountain town on the outskirts of Osaka.

A woman with short hair up to her shoulders, glasses, and a beauty mark underneath her eye looked up at me from the canvas. A face so familiar, and one I see every morning. The first thing I ever learned to draw was a portrait of my mother, and even though my skills had progressed beyond that point at my ripe age of eleven years old, I found myself instinctively reverting back to drawing portraits of her in my free time-and of my father.

There was something comforting about it-about them. My parents were the best. Humble, good people who loved their son so much-who wanted to give him everything. I was lucky. The luckiest kid in the world.

My pinky ran along the rim of mom's reading glasses, smudging the charcoal until it fit my liking and stained my finger pads grey. The bell rang to signal the start of class and I finished just in time, holding up the portrait in the sunlit window with satisfied content-

"Wow! It's so pretty, Akio." The girl next to me fawned, propping her chin in her hand as she was mesmerized by my drawing.

I smiled at her a bit embarrassed, lowering the drawing quickly as I didn't know I was being watched.

"Ah, you think so? I dunno, I think it needs a little more shading." I pursed my lips in thought, causing the girl at my other side to giggle.

"Please, you just got a scholarship to the Tokyo Junior School of Art, and you're still so critical of your work? You need to be nicer to yourself, Akio." She disciplined, causing me to chuckle and lower my head humbly.

I never told anyone about my achievements. Bragging wasn't ever my thing, and I preferred to celebrate in secret, so I wouldn't accidentally gloat and make others feel bad. But, somehow, people always seemed to know what I was up to. Sometimes, even before I did. It was strange to me, how fascinated people always were with my simple life.

Everyone has dreams, but not everyone is lucky enough to actually pursue them. I'm incredibly grateful to fall into the category of people who can.

At the age of six, my quirk for light beams manifested, but I didn't care. All I cared about was finger painting my dinner plate with curry sauce until it made a cool looking design. From then on, I continued to create things until I realized it was something I actually enjoyed.