Apathy Syndrome [My Hero Academia × Persona Crossover]

[Revised] Fool's Journey

Something so simple had sparked something within him. It was, odd, to say in the least. He was sure that not everyone had seen the reappearing door that had fog trailing out of the small openings that were built in. The door was a velvet blue and ethereal due to its translucency, the door having intricate etchings with details that he had yet to describe.

He was able to touch the door when he was about three, clearly showing naive interest in the odd door. It would appear in the corner of his eye, only to disappear the minute he tried to sneak a clear glance at it. But, at night, when the grandfather clock chimed to signal that it was officially twelve in the morning, he would be able to see it completely in its glory. It was how he knew what the door looked like, how he knew where the engravings and etchings were, how he knew what they were and felt like.

Every night when he slowly walked towards the door to examine the same drawings, he felt a strong, distinct pull he had only ever felt with it. It gave him chills and goosebumps on his arms, dizziness that sent him into spirals, and a vision of seven figures. His father always reminded him what seven was, how it was such a lucky number.

When touching the door, it would feel like metal despite its wooden-looking nature. With the metal-feeling touch, it would also result in a cold sensation to bolt through either hand he used. The door had also constantly surprised him with how the fog wafted to the sides whenever he stepped close enough.

His hand would brush over the lines that ran vertically down the door, the rounded edges and inside making it seem like prison bars laid over the door, enforcing that the lock that hung firmly on the loop, which presumably acted like a knob to pull open the door, was not accessible for the time being.

The other drawings on the door didn't stick out as much as the reoccurring butterfly. It was placed every so often among the other etchings, showing that it was significant to everything that was taking place on the door. When the child laid his forehead on the door, hands on either side of his head, he would listen to whatever sounds could be heard on the other side of the door.

Nothing.

Nothing was on the other side of the door other than the sound of a void, it sounded empty yet continuously infinite, like a vacuum. It sounded like an eerie sensation ran across his arms and down his spine, echoing in his ears, like a picture that was terrifying that sent a rumble through your head.

But then, underneath that, was a piano. A melodic piano with a matching voice similar to that of an opera singer. It was continuous. Never-ending. By the time the singing had dimmed down alongside the piano, it had felt like hours had passed. But the clock told him that only a singular minute had passed.

One who knows nothing can virtually understand nothing, the statement had orbited his thoughts as he stared at the barred door, no longer able to touch it.

It was officially a minute after twelve in the morning, the Dark Hour had ended, the fog lifted, and the treasure was successfully stolen. Noting an ethereal blue glow from his window sill, he caught a blue butterfly. Looking back to where the door once was, the child would see the door gone from its place.

Sighing, he'd go back to bed.

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-Unedited-