Chapter 3 - Awakening

The early morning sun shone through my thin white curtains as I dressed for school, buttoning up my long-sleeved baby blue shit before tucking it into a pair of black slacks.

Even after two years of elementary school I still found the requirement for children to wear uniforms ridiculous. Not all elementary schools mandate uniforms of course, but the one I went to did, and that is all that is needed for me to be annoyed with the idea. But I went along with it without voicing my complaints too often, an eight-year-old has no power, no matter the world, and really school uniforms weren't the hill I cared enough about to die on.

After wrapping my black belt around my pants I ran a comb through my short red hair that was so dark that it could be mistaken for black in the right light. My school required all boys to either have a bowl cut or combed to one side, that is unless you had a quirk that prevented them from doing so. In that case, you could do almost anything you wanted with your hair or hair equivalent, within reason of course, if your body was too unsightly or distracting you were placed in the back.

That was why I was thankful that I didn't have a mutation quirk that made me into some sort of hybrid monster. Kids with those types of quirks might not be as badly bullied as I expected them to be, but it still looked very inconvenient and uncomfortable to live with. But I shouldn't be one to talk though, I don't even have a quirk, at least not yet.

The average child manifests their quirk at four years old. At eight years old, I am four years late, and with each year that passes the likelihood of me having one becomes less and less possible. But there is still hope, quirk manifestations have been documented as old as twenty years old. This is probably why most people bought the story that Izuku awakened his quirk at fourteen.

I was the only one in my school without a quirk as of last year since the only other late bloomer in my school had manifested a dubstep gun quirk during summer vacation. I was honestly proud of her though, she utilized her new dubstep gun arm to a very hilarious degree by becoming the unofficial schoolyard DJ.

"Sam, breakfast," Naomi called. Using the nickname she had started calling me ever since I had sat her down and watched the whole extended edition of Lord of the Rings. It was a good thing that she was fluent in English, otherwise, such an accomplishment would have not been possible. The fact that such an ancient relic could still be found and played even after two world wars and dozens of world-ending supervillain plots almost coming to fruition was nothing short of a miracle.

I exited my little room that was only big enough for my futon, a little bookshelf, and a dresser while giving me a few feet of walking space. The door opened to a hallway that lead out into a room that acted as a kitchen, dining room, and living room.

Naomi Ishii, my new mother, was sitting in a plastic fold-out chair, in front of an old water-damaged wood table that she found on the side of the road. The redheaded woman was so tall that even sitting, her head almost hit the ceiling, as this building was meant for the average Japanese person's height and not my amazonian mother.

I hopped onto the matching plastic fold-out chair from across the table and began to eat my breakfast of steamed rice, buttered toast, strawberries, and sausages. Naomi had always insisted that I not be allowed to eat sugary cereals for breakfast, 'corporate junk,' she called it. She also very rarely let me eat other unhealthy foods, only saving them for special occasions, she said it would turn me into a sissy boy if I ate too much of it.

Naomi was always like that, and even though I mourned the loss of a good old-fashioned American cheeseburger, I couldn't begrudge her the right to want to see me grow healthy. And judging from her sizer, not only in height but in sheer muscle mass, she knew what she was talking about.

"Did you finish your homework last night?" She asked.

I swallowed my mouthful of toast before answering, "yep."

My answer made Naomi smile. "Good, remember if you make all As again we will take that trip to the country for the summer."

I felt a wave of excitement at the mention of our planned camping trip later this year. I had been missing fresh air and craving an escape from the city. I couldn't go mudd'n or shoot'n as I used to in my last life, but I could at least try and find a place not oppressed by smog to look up at the night sky.

My attention was brought back to the present when Naomi yawned as she stretched her back, showing off her chiseled abs as she was currently only wearing a grey sports bra and black yoga pants.

I tore my eyes away and looked down at my food, hating myself for what I felt for this woman in front of me. I couldn't help it, Naomi Ishii was an incredibly attractive young woman whose personality and intelligence only made her even more of a catch. I defy any human being to live with someone who loves you unconditionally for eight years and not learn to love them in turn, only in my case I may have fallen in the wrong direction.

I know nothing could ever come of these feelings, I love Naomi Ishii too much to admit them, I'll take this secret to my grave. Besides she needs someone who she could trust implicitly, and if being her son makes Naomi happy, then sure, I'll keep that role, even if it hurts.

"The bus should be here any minute." She said as she stood up from the table.

I quickly finished my breakfast and stood up as well before grabbing my backpack near the door and putting on my shoes.

Without warning, Naomi scooped me up into her arms and kissed the top of my head, "be good Sam, I love you."

I hugged her back, "I love you too."

She let me go with a cheeky grin, "and remember don't start any fights."

"But be sure to finish them." I finished the saying she had been telling me at least once a week since I started school.

"Good boy, have a good day at school."

"Bye," I waved goodbye and headed out to the bus stop.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________

It was lunchtime the cool spring breeze gently rustled the leaves of the tree I was eating under, children played in the playground in front of me. Some playing on or near the swings, others taking turns on the slides, and others were chasing each other in a game of heroes and villains.

I was just content to watch them as I ate my sushi bento, a small smile on my face as I allowed myself to lean back against the tree and soak up the peace of this afternoon. Others would find being unpopular and a social outcast for not having a quirk a curse, but to me, it was a blessing. I couldn't properly socialize with children as a peer and I wasn't a world-class actor that could just fake it till I made it.

I could talk to them just fine, it's just that I came across as 'weird,' and 'pretending to act smart,' as I have been so often told by the other children. Kids aren't completely clueless, they could tell that I was a part of the scary 'other', something not entirely native to their environment. It was in the way I walked, the way I talked, and the way I carried myself through the day-to-day grind. I was just too different for them not to notice.

In the first few years of my being here, I could get away with using small words as I was only just beginning to learn the language. Plus I wanted to pretend that I was a kid again for the first few years, soak up the experience and enjoy my time of no responsibilities and expectations. However now that I've gotten a fluent grasp of Japanese, I couldn't play dumb anymore, again I just wasn't that good of an actor. So I decided to be honest and be myself, or as much as myself as I dared to show in public.

This resulted in many adults commenting that I had an 'old soul,' which wasn't incorrect. Teachers loved me because I respected them. I remembered what we did to our teachers when I was growing up back home. Children could be almost as bad as their parents, so I endeavored to not be a bother and help my educators where I could.

The other kids called me a teacher's pet because of it, which I guess is fair. I get away with a lot more crap because of how I act and how high my grades are. I have more than once skipped a whole day of class just because I didn't feel like showing up. I, of course, made up an excuse, and the teachers were fine with it, and my mother already knew I was skipping because I would show up at her work on the days I did.

The trick to being lazy is to do a lot of work when you feel like it so you don't have work when you don't feel like it. Also acting like you're sick and continuing to go to school makes the teachers think you are a lot more dedicated than you really are. It gives you a false air of credibility when you need to make up an excuse for when you do want to indulge your inner sloth later.

I'm not completely lazy though, I do spend a lot of my free time learning new things. I want to make the best use of my head start, after all, I'm not the genius they think I am. I barely graduated in my last life, and by the time I died, I had forgotten most of my education already. So a repeat of my poor performance was not to be tolerated. I knew I had the capacity to learn as I wasn't completely stupid, but I lacked proper discipline in my last life.

But here, here I had someone I wanted to impress, seeing Naomi's proud smile was the spinach to my popeye. It motivated me and gave me the power to continue my education all through these years, even the ever-cursed math that had always been the bane of my existence. According to various free online tests, which I take with a truck of salt, I now had the equivalent education of a two-year college graduate. I was proud of that as that technically made me the first person in my family to graduate college, well the first person in my old family. I don't know if Naomi graduated college, nor did I know if my father did either.

My father…the thought of that man put a frown on my face. According to Naomi, he was dead, the pain I saw in her eyes when I brought it up broke my heart. So I didn't press her to answer those particular questions. All I know is that his name was Danuja, that I don't share his surname, and he was a 'complicated' man as Naomi briefly described him.

Speaking of family, I had grown curious about why I did not see any extended family around so with that in mind I asked Naomi about what had happened to my grandparents.

My maternal grandparents were quirk users and heroes, my grandmother was originally from the States. Naomi however only knew of her hero name, that being Tempus. Her quirk was time manipulation. Apparently, my grandmother used to work for the Texas Rangers, one of the largest and most accomplished hero organizations in the western hemisphere.

Samuru Ishii, my grandfather and the man I was named after, was known as Crimson Oni. His quirk allowed him to project a spirit that could interact with the world and enhance his strength and speed to an impressive degree. He was amongst the top twenty heroes in Japan and even made it to the number eight spot at the height of his career.

Naomi said she never knew her mother as she disappeared without a trace when she was two. Causing her father who was a full-time hero to take care of her all by himself.

Trying to balance home life and hero work whilst being a single father was a very difficult task. According to Naomi, my grandfather was a remarkable man who did his best. She often said he would have spoiled me rotten had he met me. Unfortunately, he died in the line of duty when my mother was in her teens. So Naomi pretty much raised herself for most of her life, which is probably why she's so hands-off when it comes to almost everything that wasn't diet or fitness related.

However, unlike my maternal grandparents, my paternal grandparents weren't the caped type of heroes. They were police officers, according to Naomi they adopted my father when he was an infant. Both of them unfortunately was killed in the line of duty, coincidentally in the same incident that had also made Naomi an orphan.

I couldn't help but muse that those two incidents might have been a part of what had driven Naomi and Danuja together. It was the type of Shonen coming of age story that made me question whether or not my mother or father was once a protagonist.

The sound of feet crunching on grass tore my attention away from my inner thoughts.

"Hey quirkless, I want a candy bar, give me your money so I can get one." A pudgy boy with a missing front tooth and a black bowl haircut demanded.

"Sorry Tomjii, I don't have any change on me today," I said with a false apologetic smile, I made that up, of course, you know, like a liar. But he didn't need to know that.

Tomji scowled, scrunching up his lumpy tomato-shaped face, it was quite adorable. "I bet you're lying, gimme your money right now." He raised his fist and sticky green slime started to pour from his fingernails.

Okay, officially not adorable anymore. I narrowed my eyes at the child doing a Nurgle spawn impression. "Tomjii please leave me alone. If you want extra money then work for it, you're a big boy. I'm sure you could do something that will make you lots of money to buy all the candy you want." I spoke calmly to him, using reasonable language and even offering him a solution to his problems.

And as expected, the child didn't care. All he saw was someone telling him no and not the solution that was being offered. But then again that's kids for ya, if they were reasonable people then they wouldn't be kids. "I said gimme!" He took a step toward me.

The boy was slow compared to me, his physic resembled a watermelon, and his technique was amateur at best. All this combined had made it easy for me to use my ultimate secret technique, passed down from generations of Ishii, dating all the way back to when we used to be Daiymo who ruled our own fiefdom within Japan. "Runaway!" I shouted and ducked under Tomjii's lunge before sprinting towards the nearest teacher.

"Get back here!" The boy shouted at me.

But he would not convince me to come back to him with his eloquent speech. I was determined to not have to fight someone today, Tomjii was a bit of an ass, but the kid didn't deserve to have his nose broken over a few coins. When violence isn't the answer, and reasonable discussion is off the table then simply leaving the situation is always an option.

I bobbed and weaved through playing children, using quick turns and the playground to my advantage. It was not a hard feat to lose my pursuer, my mother was a health geek, and had often made sure I was fit as she impressed the importance of exercise onto me. While Tomjii on the other hand had parents that would sooner go to McDonald's just to get him to shut his mouth than slave over a hot stove for minutes at a time to make every meal.

"Woah, slow down Ishii, where's the fire?" Said a humanoid grizzly bear person wearing a white dress shirt under a black tie and a pair of black slacks.

"Sorry Higa-Sensei," I chuckled with a sheepish smile. Higa was both my homeroom and math teacher, he was a pretty chill dude. The plaques on his wall also indicated he had a degree in child physiology, this fact coupled with his soft and fluffy appearance pretty much meant he was built to be an elementary school teacher.

Higa glanced back over the crowd of playing children, no doubt spotting the red-faced form of Tomjii trying to find me. "Is Tomjii giving you trouble again?"

I shook my head, "Nah, just felt like running is all." It wasn't my best lie but I ain't no snitch.

The teacher frowned, no doubt seeing right through my half-assed attempt at deception. "You know you can always come to me if you're having trouble. Problems like this can only be solved if we communicate."

I resisted rolling my eyes, I had literally just tried that and it didn't work. Not my fault children aren't capable of seeing reason, especially when it's one of their own talking. "I'll keep that in mind Sensei."

"Mhmm," Sensei didn't look convinced.

'𝘏𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥, 𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘴𝘰 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘶𝘳𝘦. 𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘤, 𝘐 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘥𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘯.' The voice of Higa-Sensei spoke like a strange echo in my head.

I blinked in surprise, "Uh… did you say something Sensei?"

The teacher looked down at me in concussion, "no I did not."

"Okay," I nodded, looking at him strangely. That was weird, he didn't even move his mouth, and the way his voice sounded. Does he have a minor ventriloquist quirk or something?

'𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵? 𝘋𝘰 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘩? 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦.' Higa-Sensei's voice echoed once again.

"Alright, you definitely said something that time." I put my hands on my hips in a huff.

"Ishii, I honestly have no idea what you're talking about," Higa said with a concerned frown.

'𝘐𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵? 𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦, 𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴.'

"Gah, there it is again, and I ain't sick." This was getting on my nerves.

"No one here is talking right now," my teacher tried to assure me.

'𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥, 𝘐'𝘮 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘩𝘯𝘪𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘳𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘱.' The echo sounded within my mind again.

"Stop gaslighting me damn it, and stop talking with your mouth closed!" I pointed at him angrily.

'𝘎𝘢𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘥𝘰𝘦s 𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘪𝘴?'

"Yes I do, now stop it please."

Higa-Sensei raised his brows in surprise. '𝘞𝘢𝘪𝘵…𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘸?'

Before I could answer another voice spoke in my head.

'𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘪𝘳𝘥𝘰 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘳𝘬𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘯𝘰𝘸?' I recognized that voice, it was Miyo, a little girl with a snake quirk that made her look like a naga.

I turned to the little snake girl, she looked back at me with surprise in her golden serpentine eyes. '𝘋𝘪𝘥 𝘐 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘥? 𝘐 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘏𝘪𝘨𝘢-𝘚𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘪 𝘸𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘱𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵.'

Again, before I could respond to her, another echoey voice spoke. '𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘮 𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘢𝘴 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘴?'

That was Kokan, the token, eat anything kid that every school had. I had no idea how I could hear him, he was all the way across the playground with his face practically buried in the grass.

I was beginning to breathe heavily and looked around in wide-eyed confusion "What's going on?"

"Ishii, are you alright?" Higa-Sensei asked as he took a concerted step toward me.

Another voice spoke, '𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘚𝘢𝘬𝘶𝘳𝘢 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦, 𝘛𝘰𝘮𝘫𝘪𝘪 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥.'

Before I could figure out who said that yet another echo sounded. '𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘯 𝘨𝘰 𝘢𝘵 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘰𝘳 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘨𝘰 𝘵𝘰 𝘊𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘥𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘱𝘴?'

And another, this one older than the children I had been hearing earlier. '𝘛𝘰𝘺𝘰𝘵𝘢 𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘦𝘹𝘰𝘴𝘶𝘪𝘵, 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘷𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘢 𝘧𝘦𝘸 𝘥𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘴𝘰 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘧𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰.'

Another adult spoke. '𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘱𝘢𝘭 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘣𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘶𝘵𝘦 𝘥𝘶𝘮𝘱 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘴𝘴? 𝘓𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘴𝘴, 𝘥𝘰𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘰𝘯 𝘢 𝘔𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘰𝘰𝘯?'

Now a child again. '𝘐'𝘮 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘢𝘴𝘬 𝘱𝘢𝘱𝘢 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘔𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘥𝘢𝘺!'

Now an adult. '𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘭 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘯𝘰 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘵, 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘩 𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘕𝘢𝘬𝘢𝘵𝘰𝘮𝘪 𝘣𝘶𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘚𝘯𝘪𝘱𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘧𝘵 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦.'

A flood of voices drowned my mind like a chaotic symphony of dissonant whispers. I screamed as I collapsed to my knees, clutching my ears. "AHHH, stop talking, stop talking, too much, too much, too much!"

My eyes felt like they were burning, my mouth tasted copper, and my hands felt warm and wet as something poured out of them. My voice grew horse as I kept screaming yet no one stopped talking, if anything it was worse as the flood of voices grew louder and louder.

I fell face-first onto the ground, the last thing I knew was the feeling of two large fluffy arms wrapping around me before darkness took me.