The Villain Goes To High School

Episode 2, Part 1: Greenwood High, Get Rid of the Bell

"Mom, who is my biological father?"

Fantasia nearly spit out her tea when Esper waltzed into her study with a book in his hands. It had a diagram of naked human anatomy on the cover, much to her chagrin.

"Why do you ask?" she responded carefully.

"I have been reading," declared her son, shoving the book too close to her face. "And I now understand how babies are made."

Fantasia chuckled, juggling between feeling impressed that her five-year-old could read even half the words in the book and horror that he might have simply looked at one too many pictures.

"So where is my dad?" Esper pressed.

She hesitated. "He...is in a better place."

"Better than here?" Esper pouted. "Can we visit him?"

A distant sadness crossed Fantasia's face. She stared into her tea for a long time while Esper fidgeted with growing impatience.

"He passed away," she finally said. "Unfortunate things happened a few years ago. You were just a baby... He loved you very much, Esper."

"He died?" Esper didn't quite comprehend the meaning back then, nor did he feel the same sorrow that seemed to drain the light from his mother's eyes. He did understand, though, that his mother was suddenly in low spirits and, taking the book away from her, said, "I'm sure he loved you very much too, Mom."

Fantasia offered a small smile that warmed Esper's heart. "He was the strongest, bravest person I ever met. And I see him in you. You have my eyes and my hair, but you look just like your father."

Another question came into Esper's mind and he debated himself fiercely on whether or not to ask it.

"How did he die?" he blurted. With how powerful Villains were, how powerful his mother was, he just couldn't believe anything could touch his father.

Fantasia's expression darkened. Esper could see how tightly she gripped her cup as she set it down. He shrank, positive that he'd crossed the line, regretting his gnawing curiosity. Her face softened when she looked at him again, but a serious mood had settled upon the room.

"We live in a grand and dangerous world, Esper," she murmured. "In which our family has grand and dangerous power. Many people want what we have. They'll try to take it away from us, by force if necessary." She patted his head, though Esper felt far from comforted.

"Be careful."

---

He awoke to dawn creeping up the curtains and a room without supernatural shadows. Esper drew the blankets over his head and mumbled, "Clutter. My clothes please. Usual attire."

The room gave no response. Esper swore under his breath, tossed the blankets aside, and stomped into the bathroom. He practically dunked his face into water in the hopes that the past twenty four hours—week, really—had been a terrible prank set by his mother. The cold water chased his sleep away, along with that wishful thinking when he saw his blackened hair.

Esper stared at his face in the bathroom mirror, watching droplets slide down his cheekbones and drip at the point of his chin.

You have my eyes and my hair, but you look just like your father.

Did his father have black hair, and was that why she chose it? He ran through various combinations of hair and eye color but none satisfied the thirst that he felt. He buried his face in a towel and pulled himself away.