Fight Fest // BNHA

Chapter 1

There had been tellings of many strange anomalies occurring, something other than the constant villain attacks conducted by petty criminals. In Musutafu, Japan many rumors, or so-called urban legends, spread far and wide.

Only one of these rumors openly persisted for longer than a year, which came in the form of pictures revealing a child enveloped within the shadows. Over the years, only a discernible green glow could be distinguished from the child's silhouette; the only sign left of someone's presence were nimble imprints in the dirt, accompanied by the swaying trail of trees in the silent moonlight. In the end, only a glow of slime swirling in an abyss remained.

Bated breath accompanied sharp inhales and wheezing exhales as footsteps thundered, wildlife fleeing from the frenzy of clicking that promised peril.

Tears burned and lungs ached, but the mission could not be abandoned. Heartbeat pounding in his ears, a masked figure pressed his foot into the sludgy soil at the base of a tree, digging deep until he felt the pressure of something concrete–immovable.

He hooked an arm around the tree, swinging to the other side and sliding into an opened route, disappearing inside the contraption. Left behind was the angered, confused crowd which had conducted the chase; the only clue that someone else had walked the same grounds were inconsistent, already fading, footsteps.

•••

“Good job, Yami,” A tall man crooned, stroking the newly arrived child’s unkempt hair. “You always get the job done–well, except for that one time, but that was long ago, and–” The man slowly slid his hand from the child’s matted hair down to his ear, touch featherlight, and continued, allowing his hand to finally rest on the child’s cheek, gently caressing it. “You remember the consequences.”

The child refused to flinch, staring up at the man with dreary, dull green eyes. The man grinned as he prattled on, squishing the child’s soft cheek. “It’s a good thing you didn’t turn back to those heroes, you know? ‘Cause I could easily replace you–it would be an unnecessary hassle, sure, but it’d be as easy as a snap of my fingers,” He watched the child squirm, the man practically pinching the child’s cheek now. “I’d just snatch another kid; one much less resistant. Well, if they tried to resist, I’d just give them an identical burn!” The man laughed maniacally, and the child gripped the man’s hand, digging his dirt-clogged fingernails into the other’s skin as he frantically tried to push the man’s hand away.

“Ut-uh, do you want to be punished?” The man snapped, voice dropping several octaves. The child froze, slowly retracting his hand from the elder man, flinching as the man tightened his grip further on his cheek; it would surely soon be blossoming with a fresh bruise.

“Why don’t you ever answer anymore, eh? You used to be so fun!” The child bared their teeth in frustration, angered by the man’s careless words and flippant, dismissive nature. “We both know you still have your vocal chords!” Chortled the hysterical man, finally removing his hand from the boy’s cheek to make a grand gesture towards the sorry excuse for a table in the center of the underground lab.

“Now, chow down–your first meal this week, exciting, eh!?” The man grinned, giving the child a careless shove, watching as the boy stumbled and wobbled from the excessive force, throwing his arms out to help balance himself. “You lack your usual grace!” The man snorted, cat-like eyes locked on the boy that hesitated to eat, hands fidgeting in his lap as he sat stone-still in the wooden chair, staring at the food on the table.

“Just eat up!” The man practically purred, striding over in smooth, stretching steps, leaning close to the boy as he rocked the chair backwards, keeping the child helplessly suspended in the chair, forcing his reliance.

“Or maybe you don’t deserve to eat,” The man hummed thoughtfully, gracefully lifting the plate holding the child’s attention up and away in a big swoop; the plate was balanced precariously on top of the man’s fat fingers. The man drank up the look of desperate, poorly concealed need in the child’s eyes. “After all, Yami, you shouldn’t have let the heroes even spot you–much less follow you so deep in. They got real nice and close to the entries, y’know?”

Silence followed. There were no twitters of morning birds calling upon each other from far away, or even crickets chirping in the dark of night. In the underground there was no indication of the passage of time.

The man cackled as he watched Yami’s face slam into the table, watching in glee as the boy’s nose scraped harshly against the wood. He was practically preening over the boy’s freshly spilled blood.

“Awww, did you get an owie?” The man gasped softly, mockingly, as he watched Yami upright his fallen chair. The child did not even attempt in ceasing the flow of blood dripping down onto his lips.

“Well, if you want this treat, you’ll have to beg for it–I doubt you will, though!” The man tauntingly dipped the plate deep down, side to side, the food nearly sliding off the plate with every jerky motion.

The man dipped his finger in some gravy, raising it to his lips and sucking before he removed his finger with a pop, moaning, “Mmm–so good! Want some?” He looked towards Yami with a lack of concern, eyes questioning, practically sneering at the boy’s desire.

“C’mere,” Yami jolted, eyes clearing as he stumbled in his hasty attempts to quickly follow directions. The man just chuckled, amused, clearly seeing the boy’s attempts to keep as much distance from him as possible. He yanked the child too close for comfort, quickly tipping the plate atop his head, gravy spilling into the boy’s tousled hair. “That’s all the food you’ll be gettin’ today.”

The man left the boy to slowly crumble onto the floor, walking away. If he glanced back he would have seen the pitiful child rubbing his hands across his face, desperately licking the gravy smeared on his scarred hands.