The sunlight stabbed directly into my eyes.
I swear I closed the curtains… the thought drifted through my mind, annoyed and groggy.
Sleep refused to let go. The warm bed felt like soft nougat, dragging me back down, whispering, "Just lie there a little longer, nothing bad will happen." It didn't exactly motivate me to wake up, but unfortunately, reality doesn't care about comfort. School wasn't going to cancel itself.
I dragged myself up. A quick breakfast, leftovers prepared yesterday. Brush teeth. Look in the mirror.
A sleepy gaze stared back at me. Round face, dark hair that was shaggy enough to almost be a bob cut, and a slouched, defeated posture. I definitely didn't look my best.
"I need a haircut," Clint muttered, tugging a few strands into weird shapes. "Now, if only I could find the money, and the will, to actually do it."
Clint had been living alone for a few years now, and he managed just fine. He was more than capable of taking care of the house. The only problem was the silence. He hated loud noises, but the ringing emptiness of the apartment wasn't exactly pleasant either. So, there was always something playing, music in the background, or just conversations with himself. Sometimes, he felt like he was teetering right on the edge of insanity.
Walking past the dresser, his eyes snagged on a strange doll sitting right next to his family photo.
A nasty feeling swirled in his gut, and his hand twitched involuntarily, knocking the picture frame face-down.
"When did I even put that there?" Clint asked the empty room, inspecting the bizarre figurine.
It had an elongated torso that flowed smoothly into a uniform head, sporting a predatory, jagged smile. The entire doll was pitch black, darker than soot, but the claws on its worn hands gleamed with white metal.
"Silver? Iron?" Clint brought it closer to his face. "Weird shit..."
Suddenly, a crashing sound erupted behind him, coming straight from his clothes closet. Clint jumped, heart hammering, spinning around in a panic. He reached for the handle, feeling a spike of primal fear at whatever unknown thing was lurking inside, but the fear evaporated the moment he saw the collapsed shelf.
"And what exactly was I expecting..." Clint let out a nervous chuckle, bending down to pick up his clothes.
There are plenty of perks to living alone, but not when you're a chronic paranoid. Not when every rustle causes goosebumps and an urge to grab the knife taped under the bed. Maybe he was just spouting nonsense; maybe it was just cowardice, skittish as a deer.
But a home is supposed to be a sanctuary. And making it safe is the owner's job. That's why he had the cameras and the entire "Smart Home" rig beaming data to his laptop, just basic, mandatory precautions.
Especially in a world full of Quirks, where you never know when some psycho is going to snap and phase through your front door. It wouldn't be the first time…
His eyes drifted from the fallen photo to the clock on the wall.
"Crap! I'm late!"
Clint scrambled up, rushing for the exit. He made it three flights down the stairs before he skid to a halt, turned around, and sprinted back up to check the door. It was probably overkill, his neighborhood was relatively safe, but the devil is in the details, and the devil loves a joke...
Only after verifying all three locks were engaged did he finally calm down. He took off again, running toward school with renewed speed. Graduation was right around the corner, and tanking his grades now would be a terrible parting gift for Enega.
"Wow, you? Late?" A mocking voice laughed as he reached the school gates. His homeroom teacher was standing there, looking amused. " Is it going to snow today or something?"
"Huh... Aren't you supposed to be in class?" Clint asked, giving her a look of feigned shock. "You're late yourself, yet you're accusing me..."
"Excuse me?" She frowned playfully and punched him in the shoulder. "Teachers are never late, we are delayed. Unlike a certain someone. But, if you can get to the classroom before I do, maybe I'll turn a blind eye this time."
"Understood." Clint didn't waste a second. He stepped past the gate and looked back at Enega. "Am I forgiven?"
"Just get to class..." Above Enega's head, a holographic clock materialized, followed by digits counting down: 3:00.
"Hint taken. See you there." Clint picked up the pace, bolting toward the building.
"You're too soft on him, Enega-sensei," the security guard drawled lazily, leaning against the fence.
"Hmm..." Enega hummed, stretching her whole body. The guard's eyes instantly glued themselves to her waist. "Maybe so. But I'm just fulfilling an old promise."
"A promise?" asked Jugo, not looking away.
"Yes, yes. Just like your promise to stop staring."
"Sorry, sorry," he chuckled, finally shifting his gaze up to her eyes instead of what was below. "Didn't mean anything by it. Just wondering how to ask you out to dinner."
"Let me know when you figure it out," Enega said, walking away. Under her breath, she whispered, "So I can figure out how to say no."
….
Clint opened the classroom door and, out of pure habit, ducked.
A rock sailed through the air, occupying the exact space where his head had been a second ago. The speed was low, and the trajectory hadn't changed once in all their years of schooling. At this point, this greeting was just a mundane part of his morning routine.
"I told you it's time to increase the difficulty!" a guy shouted at his classmate, seeing the projectile miss.
"You don't understand anything! It's reverse psychology! If he gets used to one trajectory, he'll forget that it can change. I'm just waiting for the perfect moment!" argued another guy wearing glasses.
These two were a personal pain in his ass. One had a Quirk that let him control the trajectory of anything he touched; the other could turn his skin to stone.
They used Clint as target practice and didn't even have the decency to be subtle about it.
Naturally, Clint hated them, but what could he do? In this society, they had infinitely better prospects than a Quirkless kid.