𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐄 | 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧 | ✓

𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔄𝔯𝔢 𝔑𝔬𝔱 𝔄 𝔅𝔞𝔡 𝔓𝔢𝔯𝔰𝔬𝔫

Shinso unlocked his apartment after school and walked into the mess. He threw the envelope that he'd picked up from the mailbox on top of all the other bills waiting to be payed. His mother was snoring on the moth-ridden couch, accompanied by a liquor bottle — no surprise there. He headed into the bathroom and slammed the door, causing it to quake on it's hinges.

He looked at his reflection in the streaky mirror above the sink: wild lilac hair, purple eyes, a mouth set in a grim line, and of course, the trademark eyebags.

"You are not a villain," he told his reflection. "And you will not become one."

He slid open a rickety drawer and fished out his razor. Shrugging off his blazer and pushing up his shirt sleeve, he revealed a row of angry red cuts crossing his inner forearm like train tracks.

He'd lied to Aizawa-sensei, of course. He was not fine. In fact, on Saturday morning at three am, he'd sat on the cold tiles of the bathroom floor, wrists trickling blood after learning that the rest of class 1-C had gone out to the diner together without him on Friday night. Even the nerds were there. How did he know? Instagram stories, the evil things.

Every time someone treated him like a villain, Shinso cut himself. It was his way of coping, staying in control: as long as you can feel this, you're still here, and you're not a villain.

Now, Shinso sunk the blade into his left arm, on top of an older, almost-healed scar. Blood beaded on his skin and ran down his arm. He took a deep breath. "You are not a villain." Cut. "You are not your mother." Cut. "You are not a bad person." Cut.

He stopped, acutely aware of the sharp stinging. He'd gone deeper than he planned. He stopped, ran his arm under cool water, and grabbed a few bandaids out of the cabinet.

Once he had cleaned up, he changed out of his school uniform into black jeans and a lavender-coloured turtleneck. Time for his shift at the cinema.