2: Random

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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.

You've reached the end of published parts.

⏰ Last updated: Jun 26, 2023 ⏰

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