Experiment || Haikyuu!! Multi-ship fanfiction

Prolouge

He didn't have a name, none of them did.

When the innocent child asked them one day when he was about 5 years old they said that names were a sign of love.
Nobody loved him.

Instead of a name, he was given an identification code.

At first, they called him '10'. When they did the boy wondered if there were 9 others, maybe he wasn't alone after all.

He was kept tucked away in a room. A secure door that didn't need a key, guards outside, no windows to see the world. He had his own bathroom and a large bed as well as a small table where he learned maths, Japanese, science, and more. They were all recorded lessons, but at least he wasn't bored or distracted or spaced out due to the teacher going on and on and on.

He also had an emergency button next to his door that a guard would respond to, he only ever used it once when he was crying, "I'm so alone!" he would wail. But the guard would only walk away and lock the door again.

He never pressed the button after that.

At age 10 they marked him. He was escorted to a room with a chair, it frightened him but he was terrified because he didn't know what the guards would do to him if he argued.

He was always scared of the guards. They were very tall compared to him and carried guns and a baton in their belts. Their eyes were covered; he never knew why, and they showed no emotions. The boy thought they were robots.

He did try to escape once, he was being escorted down a hallway, he didn't know where they were taking him, and he just ran the other way. His short legs could not compare to the scary guard's and he was caught after about 15 paces. The guard beat him that day, and it hurt.

But it didn't hurt as much as when they marked him. All it took was one look at the tattoo gun for him to start squirming and panicking. The boy thought he was going to die.

Instead, he was restrained as the tattoo artist began tracing and colouring the lines she already drew in pen. It felt awful.

One of the guards held his arm down, pushing on it until it turned white from the pressure. The rest of his body squirmed involuntary, his chest lifted and his legs kicked. It felt like a thousand needles were pricking him everywhere rapidly, and after screaming and crying for what felt like hours, it was done. The unbearable pain he could tolerate for only so long had ceased.

He looked at it as it was being bandaged, eyes slightly blurry from his endless tears. His now numb arm was now holder of his identification code; K-10.

It was all in black and was very bold. His left wrist ached, fingers feeling heavy and tingled like pins and needles. To distract himself, he watched as the artist carefully wrapped soft yet itchy bandages around his arm.

That day, he held conversation with someone other than one of his nurses or doctors.

"...Why did you do it there and not on the inside?" He croaked, genuinely curious. Wouldn't it be easier to bandage it if it was on the inside of his wrist?

The artist, who was now done with her work, glanced at his watery eyes and gently rubbed his hand with her thumb.

"You'll see one day." She answered bluntly. After a small 'oh' from the boy she added, "You were brave, 10." In the same blunt tone.

K-10 was more than overjoyed to hear that.

—————

As it turns out, she wasn't a tattoo artist. She was actually a scientist at the experiment block, and her name was Dr. Honoka. She was quite nice to K-10, and comforted him when he had to get a jab or when she had to give him an injection for an experiment.