Self Narration: hello
Saiki's thoughts: hello
Saiki's telepathy: (hello)
Saiki's little edits: {hello}
Saiki's edits within the edits |hello|
Sarcasm or being overly dramatic: hello
People talking: "Hello"
Peoples thoughts ' Hello'
Hours/minutes: -#-
Flashbacks: hello (very different from sarcasm)
AN: [hello]
-------&&&-------
This will most likely be written from Saiki's perspective for the remaining time of the fic.
I'll do this pattern if it's a perspective switch mid-story: -_-·-_-·-
.-°-.-°-.-°-.-°-.-°-.-°-.-°-.-°-.-°-.-°-.-°-.-°-.-°-.
"Shh... Shh... Go to sleep now, Kusuo." A blonde-haired boy cradled a crying pink-haired infant in his arms.
"Everything will always be better in the morning... So please, shut your eyes and dream about whatever you most desire, whether it be about food, another life, or... Or nothing at all." The tired boy said with a weak smile, tears falling down his cheeks as he held the infant around his bruised arms.
"Whatever it is that you dream about, remember... I'll always love you... No matter what." He said, his voice growing softer as he watched the infant close his eyes, drifting off into a deep slumber.
"Good night, Kusuo..." He muttered, smile faltering as he glanced at the floorboards.
--&--
I wake up in a cold sweat. My eyes linger on each section of the room for any recognizable placement of the furniture, walls, or doors.
My heartbeat slowly decreases to meet its usual pace, familiarizing itself with the old fashion Japanese-styled layout of the room.
What did I expect?
I peek at the clock beside me, it's barely 9 am.
A deep, exasperated sigh escapes my lips as I stare at the blankets covering the lower half of my body.
Another day, another pain.
I look at you, the viewers. Breaking the fourth wall, as I always do.
Hello, stalkers. It's been quite a long time since we have seen each other, hasn't it?
I pull the blanket off my body, slowly getting out of bed and letting my feet fall on the floor.
From the first chapter, you could tell, life has been going absolutely great for me.
My father is a lovable bastard, while my mother is a delicate flower. My siblings all love me and wouldn't dare lay a finger on me.
A small scoff vacates my throat.
Yeah no. I'm lying.
I begin to walk down the dark hallway, out of the house through the backdoor, and continue to lazily trudge toward the training hall.
It's been one thousand, one hundred, and five excruciating days since my lamentable birth. And I've just found out how clingy some people could be.
For instance-
"Ku! Ku!~" The recognizable high-pitched vocals sang throughout the once peaceful environment in contentment.
Oh, my example is awake.
I twist my body around to face the short height of my younger twin, "Can we play a bunch after training?" He asked, tugging at my sleeves enthusiastically with his heterochromatic eyes unusually large and doughy and his eyebrows raised slightly while his head is negligibly tilted downwards. "Puppy face", as you weird creatures call it.
I internally rolled my eyes at his desperate and annoying expression.
This is my fraternal twin brother, Shoto Todoroki. If you're dumb enough not to know what fraternal twins are, which most of you evidently are, fraternal twins are a result of the fertilization of two separate eggs with two different sperms during the same pregnancy. They may not have the same sex or appearance, but they share half their genomes, just like any other siblings.
So we may not look like the stereotypical "mirror twins", but we are technically twins by birth.
(You'll have to ask Enji, but I recommend not even bothering. We both know what he'll say.) I said monotonically, turning my attention towards the blank wall to use my perceptive, but annoying, x-ray vision to look through the white partition.
I was able to see the red-headed man walking down the hallway, directed toward the vicinity where the training hall was located.
"He'd say to keep on training if we have that much energy left... But couldn't we just play real quick, in secret? I want to play heroes vs. villains!" He tightened his grip around my sleeves and neared closer to my face, most likely in some foolish expectations to persuade me.
Ew.
If you couldn't tell, he's a half-baked brat with clingy and weirdly superfluous feelings about me. Furthermore, he's a copycat that does whatever he could to imitate how I fight, walk, talk, and basically, anything and everything that he could almost alien-like replicate.
Some people may say he just looks up to me, but it's a repetitive process. All he does is mimic whatever he could off me, and by this point, it's just gotten annoying.
Also, dear viewers, whatever words I may spit out, just know that I don't necessarily hate him, he's just too... How could I put this nicely...
He gave me a childish grin, a naive bliss that made the atmosphere of the room immediately light up.
...
I could feel my body relax, and a small breath escape my lips as I sigh in just a little disappointment.
At least he's the only moron in this family that acts their age.
I placed my palm on the young boy's dual-colored hair, pushing him away from me before I got any more uncomfortable. (I'm sorry Shoto, but Father could enter this room any second now. I'd rather be forced to fight you than get in trouble.)
His face turned a light pink, flushed at my claim that I'd be the one getting in trouble. 'Kusuo is right... I don't want to get him in trouble...' Shoto thought, with a small pout plastered onto his face as he let go of my sleeve.
