Leon didn't know how long it had been. The last thing he remembered was being at that superhero convention, a celebration for the newly formed group of heroes, the Justice League.
His parents had taken him there as a surprise for his eighth birthday. The people at the convention had been waiting for the heroes to arrive.
But soon enough, the wait turned into chaos, as a series of explosions took the place down in seconds. He remembered his father being crushed under a falling roof and his mother and sister holding him down when a big fire erupted around them.
Now he lay on the hospital bed, staring at the ceiling, emotions welling up as his memories refreshed clearly. He remembered the searing hot pain and then opening his eyes to two charred figures.
Nothing remained of his mother and sister; when he moved, they both crumbled into ashes. He himself was overwhelmed with pain, and when he looked at himself, it all made sense. He too was half burned, his clothes sticking to his skin.
That was when he lost consciousness, and now he was in this place. Leon pushed himself up, barely supporting himself with his right hand, and sat on the bed. He wanted to cry, but the tears weren't even flowing out.
Suddenly, someone entered the room. It was a nurse, who was wide-eyed seeing him awake. She immediately walked in, pressing a button on his bed, then putting a hand behind his head.
"Leon? Can you hear me?" she asked.
Leon just nodded his head, and she spoke again. "You've just woken up, so it's best if you lie down for now," she said and gently supported him down.
"Your doctor is coming soon, alright. I'm with you until then," she said and started adjusting the height of his bed, then attached a few clips to his fingers.
She then measured his heartbeats and other vitals as they waited for the doctor to come up.
His head was slightly lifted up, along with the bed, and he silently kept staring into nothingness. He saw a steel plate on the table to the side of his bed.
His burnt and stretched skin made it almost impossible for him to move his hands, but he tried to grab it nonetheless.
The plate's clattering got the nurse to look back at him. She widened her eyes, looking at him with pity. Leon was staring at his burnt, disfigured reflection on the back of the steel plate.
Gone were the snow-white hairs, replaced by a bald, scarred head. The pupil in his left eye was completely white, which made him realize that he was only seeing through his right eye.
It was the only thing that was still intact in him. The light blue shade of his eyes reminded him of his mother's eyes, a pang of pain scrunching up his heart. Again, for some reason, tears still refused to come out of his remaining eye.
The nurse was expecting him to panic or go into shock, but his voice cracked, as if he almost choked. "How long—how long have I been asleep?"
"Four years," she replied in a low voice. "You're twelve years old now, Leon."
She added, "Do you perhaps not remember—" but was interrupted when Leon replied in a slightly louder voice.
"I do! I—I remember everything—about that day." His words mumbled at the end.
Someone else entered the room. It was another woman. She looked a bit younger than the nurse but was wearing a white coat over a similar blue uniform.
"Leon, I'm your doctor, Angie Martinez. First of all, tell me, do you feel anything off with your body?" She stepped in closer and started inspecting his eyes with a pen light.
"Sister Kate, you took his vitals?" Angie asked the woman, who nodded and handed her a chart. Kate looked like she was about to break down too.
Angie looked at her and sighed, then said, "You should take a break, Kate." She was about to refute when Angie said, "Not a request."
Kate nodded and went out of the room. Leon was slightly confused. Angie then looked at him and asked, "Do you not remember her?"
"I—" His words got stuck, as Kate's face gave him a sense of déjà vu, but he couldn't remember her at all. He just realized something else: there were a lot of gaps in his memories.
"I had suspected as much," Angie spoke, prompting him to look at her. She continued, "You've suffered what we call partial memory loss. Do you remember your parents and your sister?"
He just gave a silent nod to that and asked, "What… about Kate? Who is she to me?"
"She's your aunt, your mother's sister."
"Why did she look so uncomfortable back then? Was she just tired?"
"Well, it's a lot complicated. Just know that she's done a lot to keep you here. I don't know if you'll understand the significance, but besides the treatment you've gotten, she's the only other reason you're still alive."
Leon understood what she meant by that. He was supposed to be dead, and it was his aunt who'd been paying for all this.
He didn't know the woman; she was basically a stranger, as far as his memories were concerned. And he didn't know how much trouble she'd gone through.
But what he knew was that he'd never forget what she'd done for him. But what even was the point of it all, when all he could do was just move his upper body and his right hand?
His legs were stationary. They barely even held the shape of legs, burned into something so unsightly. Yet he couldn't complain why he was still alive.
He was still breathing, and that was the truth. Leon had always been an intelligent kid, living a relatively normal life in this kind of crazy world.
His parents and his big sister were the most loving people he knew. Everything went downhill on that cursed day. 'It was me. If I had never told them about that event—'
He remembered one day telling his parents about the event for the Justice League. His birthday was close, so his parents probably thought it would be the best gift for him.
"Dr. Angie? Why can't I cry? The tears, they just won't come out," he said in a saddened tone.
"Your tear glands have been severely damaged by the heat. It's almost just enough for your eyes to stay moist. You'll still need eye drops if you go out in the sun or if it's even slightly windy," she replied.
She then confirmed his inability to move his legs and left hand. Apparently, his tendons and muscles had been rendered completely unusable, his right hand being the only limb somewhat operable.
"Everything else seems good. We'll run some more tests, and maybe by the evening, Kate will take you to her home.
You might still need to be brought here occasionally for follow-ups, but don't worry, she'll handle it," Angie said and, after instructing him to rest properly, went out of the room.
Leon stayed silent on the bed. He turned his head and saw the open window. A sudden dangerous thought crawled into his head, which was soon covered by a loud crack that echoed in the room.
He had slapped himself. Wasn't he glad his right hand still worked? Kate's face flashed in his head, the loving look in her eyes when she saw him awake.
Her short dark-brown hair framing the light-blue eyes, the same color as his. Just imagining her being sad if something happened to him stopped him from doing something stupid.
Soon enough, evening rolled by, and like Angie had said, Kate arranged for Leon to be moved into her home.
It was about an hour's drive from the hospital she worked in. She was silent throughout the way, and neither he himself had anything to say.
He didn't even know what to ask her. He was just thankful that he wasn't alone after all that. His aunt's home was a modest apartment in Washington, D.C.
Courtesy of her parents and her job, she was stable enough to support herself and his care in a good hospital.
That night, while lying on a bed in a medically arranged room inside Kate's apartment, Leon heard his aunt arguing with someone on her phone.
He didn't hear everything but could make out the gist of it. Things like, "Like hell I'm leaving him in an orphanage!!!" and a profusely loud "Fuck you too!!!" to whoever it was talking to her on the phone.
He didn't know when he fell asleep while thinking about everything that had happened to him until now.
"Hmm… Do you think he's dead?" Leon suddenly heard a cheery voice. It almost sounded mocking to his ears.
"Can't you see him breathing?" an annoyed voice replied.
"What—" Leon muttered as he fluttered open his eyes, only for a bright light to hit his eyes, causing him to shut them again.
He slowly opened them. "Wait a minute, but my left eye—" His thought came to a halt as he looked at his hands and legs.
They were fine again, not a single burn mark on his body. He was now standing in a completely white space and looked just like the day he got into that accident, just a bit older, slightly taller.
It was how he'd look if he hadn't been burned that day. Was this a dream? He couldn't tell. And those voices? 'The voices?' He finally noticed the shadows looming over him.
"Wow, look at this kid, ignoring us like we don't even exist. Also, doesn't he just look like me when I was a kid? Only the eyes are a lot less blue," the same cheery voice spoke again.
Leon looked up, only to widen his eyes, seeing the two figures. One looked like an adult version of himself, only he was frickin' tall, his hair a bit long, and his eyes were a shade of blue that he could only describe as otherworldly.
He also had an ever-present grin on his face, a cocky confidence that exuded from the very air surrounding him.
Then, there was the one standing beside him, a four-armed humanoid being with two grafted faces, four distinct eyes, short pink hair, strangely cool tattoos on his whole body, and a separate mouth on his belly.
In contrast to the vibrant blue eyes of the one standing by his side, his eyes were a deep crimson, a color that sent shivers down his spine.
His body too had larger proportions, as if a normal body had been gigantified to fit his strange anatomy.
The blue-eyed guy was wearing a tight black T-shirt with loose white pants, while the four-armed guy only had his pants on.
"Am I dead?" Leon asked, surprisingly calm about this whole scenario.
The tall blue-eyed guy cupped his chin, his smile faltering a bit. "Hmm… You don't seem freaked out by this, kid."
"I've seen stranger things. Just a few hours ago, I woke up from a four-year-long coma, half of my body burned and scarred, and now I'm here, fully healed. So, this seems, a lot less strange."
"Are you sure you're just twelve?" the blue-eyed guy asked, making a confused face.
Leon added, "Although…" He then looked at the four-armed guy.
"What? You gotta problem with me?" A tick appeared on his forehead, but the blue-eyed guy put his hand forward and said with a chuckle, "Ignore him.
He's just grumpy that, that old lady kidnapped us and sent us here. Just know that we're here to make you strong, like, hella strong.
Oh, I'm Satoru Gojo, by the way. And this guy here was my arch-nemesis, Ryomen Sukuna."
"Huh?" Leon was confused even more. He felt more and more the urge to crash out and let go of the emotions he'd been bundling up since he woke up.
Satoru continued, "And from today onwards, you'll refer to us as Masters."
... To be continued!!!
A/N: I'm starting out a bit short in these chapter lengths. This will be increased gradually though. I'm still learning. English is my third language. And I've used a few tools for grammar correction, you can point out if you see any mistakes... And please, don't forget to leave a comment and tell me how you felt about the chapter... See you next chapter, bye!