Chapter 2: Body's Flux

'I'm rather hot for this windy day; my breathing has sped up, and I'm experiencing occasional chest pains. Do I have a fever?'

Sitting under the shade on one of the now rare warmer days, he covered his eyes from the pesky sunlight while laminating at his situation.

'Damnit, I don't have medicine for that, though; I can't tell the nurse. She'll inspect my body and find the scars. Then police get involved; normally, that'd be fine, but in this area, they're all corrupt. They'll make one quick phone call, and my life will turn into even more of a hell.'

Although Ken came to that solution, he was confused. Ever since birth, he's been unexpectedly healthy, more so than babies delivered by c-section were expected to be.

He never caught any diseases, and his wounds recovered rather fast with the amount of food he ate and the severity of his beatings.

'Guess I'll just need to loiter around til the nurse leaves and 'borrow' some more medicine.'

Returning a few extra hours later than most kids his age did wouldn't raise any suspicion. He's sure his father wouldn't waste any sleep over it.

Ken was brought out of his mind by a hand forcefully pulling him up.

"Look!"

Ken was dragged by the blonde-haired girl over to a separate tree. A wide-eyed bird could be seen lying on the ground, unmoving.

'Creepy.'

Ken looked up to see the girl's hesitant but proud expression on her face, as if she'd won the game but was looking for his approval. 

After yesterday's fiasco, Ken needed to simply sit with himself and think, so during their extended outside time, he snuck out of the school's cramped personal playground.

But when sitting in the other nearby park on a Tuesday at 1 p.m., Ken didn't expect to be bothered by anyone, let alone another kid.

Taking a moment, he appraised her.

She had blond hair that came to her shoulders, spitting off into big strands that stuck together.

She had bangs all across her forehead, letting her golden eyes stand out, especially paired right next to him with his white hair and black eyes.

She dragged him along, saying she wanted to play, and with his deteriorating condition, he decided to get rid of her, so he proposed a game: whoever finds the most interesting item wins.

He submitted a random piece of grass he found, letting her tire herself out with indecision while he sat on the ground to ponder, but whoever knew she would find a dead bird so quickly.

He looked back to find her smile still on her face as she thought about what she would make him do.

The winner got to make the loser do one thing; that was the agreement they made.

RING

'I have to get back quickly before they find out I'm gone.'

"What's your wish?" He said it with some impatience in his voice.

If she wished for something difficult, he'd throw something to distract her and then bolt away.

But if it was reasonable, like, let her punch him, he'd just take it.

The girl thought about it for a moment, putting her index finger on her cheek to think, before opening her eyes with an 'Aha' expression.

"Come back to play with me."

'Somehow that seems more annoying than just letting her punch me.'

However, for the sake of time, Ken agreed before dashing away; after all, if he didn't want to, he could always just not go.

So sneaking back in through a hole in the gate, Ken slipped into the less frequented area, getting back into the building through the back door, which had been left open for the delivery people.

Ken then navigated through the hallways and walked into his class, which was just about to start.

Sliding the door open, his teacher looked in his direction.

"Wher-"

"Bathroom, second floor of the old building. Others were occupied; I'm not a fan of sharing a bathroom."

His speedy response left her a bit speechless. Those with bathroom 'preferences' were not rare at his age, but the quickness of his reply was what surprised her.

Though she quickly shook it off, Ken was a rather notable figure at their school.

He was alone and standoffish, but rather smart for his age. He even had the nickname 'Little Teenager' by the staff.

Thinking nothing of it, she sent him to his seat, having no intention of trying to confirm his story.

The old building didn't have cameras, not to mention eyewitnesses aren't the most reliable, and it was a hassle to work.

So Ken sat listening to lectures for an hour, hoping the ticking of the clock would stop.

Just like when he died, he felt all of his senses had been abnormally increased.

The sight of things hurt his ocular senses, so he closed his eyes. Touches felt more vivid, hearing increased, hurting his ears, and smells made his stomach churn.

He knew something was up but couldn't think properly to find out the answer.

This continued before he finally couldn't stand it.

The smell of old wood mixed with the scent of children caused his nose to flare up.

He wanted to rush his hands to his mouth, but he didn't have time as the contents of his stomach rose up throughit. 

The unpleasant sound of throw-up colliding with wood reverberated throughout the room.

The students within the vicinity rushed back, making "ew" sounds.

The teacher, who'd been paying attention to Ken, responded quickly, trying to come to his side with a paper towel.

But Ken shoved her to the side; what he expected to be a simple tap was anything but.

With an unexpected growth in strength, he was surprised to find that she collided with the desk rather harshly, falling down onto the floor.

But Ken had no time to pay attention to her as the boy writled in his seat, clenching his head with his hands as he grabbed two fistfuls of his hair.

"AHHHHHH!"

The screech filled with pain was followed by the skin on his lower back being broken through by two red tentacles, which made quick work of his now-tattered cotton shirt, already barely held together.

The children were now horrified; no more were the jokes and disgusted expressions, but pure—daunting—Fear.

Some immediately broke down, crying, not able to withstand the sight of blood spatering the floor from his appendage breakout, while others screamed simultaneously, scattering out the room.

Fear replaced the small cognitive functions the small children had as many stumbled in their desperation, forgetting the basics of walking.

A few were petrified, while others didn't fair much better, crawling and shuffling back while unable to take their pupils off of Ken's figure.

The teacher came to her senses and quickly grabbed those who couldn't move, shuffling them out, focusing on the mass rather than the one.

As they were running away, nobody noticed the change in Ken's right eye's Sclera from white to black, making his pupils turn heterochromic, with one turning red while the other stayed black.

They also didn't see the tentacles moving up his back, leaving a scene of mangled flesh and blood in its wake.

Then, before the ambulance and a few heroes appeared, an interesting scene appeared in the barren classroom.

The outside flesh wrangled and moved, binding itself back together as the tentacles returned to the boy's skin.

If Ken were conscious, he'd notice how hungry he felt as well as how hollow his back was.

Unfortunately for the police and other interested parties, Ken's school would never consider adding cameras, citing that they were 'to expensive.'

…

Waking up, Ken kept his eyes closed as a glimpse of the light caused him to frown.

The white ceiling, thin covers, and memories from before he collapsed allowed him to conclude that he was in the hospital.

A few feet away, he could overhear a conversation.

"Is my son okay?"

A distressed parent would be identified by the voice, but Ken knew better than others.

'Got to keep up appearances, huh?' He scoffed inwardly, keeping his eyes closed.

"Yes, your son only awakened his quirk in a rather gruesome manner."

Unlike the somber atmosphere, the parent's tone rose a few octaves, expectations lining his tone.

"Quirk, is it a powerful one? Maybe fire creation, memory control, or blood manipulation."

Though the stone-cold doctor smashed his dreams to pieces,.

"No, unfortunately not, although his q-"

"Oh…then can he be discharged?"

The familiar, indifferent voice was heard once again, and Ken was impressed with his inability to keep up the act for more than a minute.

"No sir, we still need to run some tests on him and keep him for an observational period."

"Alright, I'll be back in about a couple of days." 

With that, the fat man left the room, his hard steps shaking the floor slightly, confirming Ken's thoughts about who he was.

But with his body not having rested enough and his ears returning to the constant sound of distant chatter as the doctor left his room, Ken fell into unconsciousness once again.

When he woke up for the second time, he heard a new voice, female this time.

"Doctor, his vitals are coming back clear."

"Amazing."

Bafflement and astonishment laced his voice.

"This boy's body is a gift from the gods. His quirk boasts powerful regeneration; thus, we couldn't even sew the little cuts on him since they healed so fast."

Taking a moment to calm his breathing, the coldness he gave to Ken's father was nowhere to be found.

Beep

Recognizing that he was needed, the doctor headed towards the door before saying, "They may need a nurse too; come with me."

Sitting up once he heard steps pass from behind the closed door, Ken looked at his hand.

He traced it up his back to his shoulder blades, not feeling anything resulting from the tearing feeling he'd felt prior.

Though, when pressing, he felt it was a little less dense than other parts of his body.

From overhearing the doctor's words, he had an understanding of his "quirk," though he couldn't fully comprehend it.

'Let's just try.'

Curiosity got the better of him, and besides, according to the doctor, his wounds would heal fast, right?

Ken got up, unplugging the needles inside of him. The small wounds healed so quickly that no blood could leak.

Then he stabbed himself again, this time in the stomach.

As one would expect, intense pain flared, and Ken, due to his body being more sensitive than usual, barely managed to keep his screams down to a pained grunt. 

Blood leaked out when he took the needle out, but amazingly, it quickly mended itself.

His skin wrangled and moved together at a speed visible to the naked eye.

Ken, in his marveling, had let go of the IV drip. Which swung back to the side of the bed where it was connected.

But in its swing, it knocked over a glass of water on the stand next to the bed, creating a crash.

Before long, sounds of footsteps were heard outside his door, and after a polite knock, the male doctor from before came in.

He checked the floor, finding the broken glass and water, along with Ken and his deadpan expression.

Turning around to a nurse who followed him, he told her to call someone to clean up the mess.

Then he went to the other side of Ken's bed and had him perform various actions, seemingly very interested.

Simple things like moving up and down, to others like squeezing his hand.

As he did, he wrote the findings on his board, filling the next 20 minutes with the sound of a pen hitting paper.

Ken, who noticed the stiffness in his unused legs, slowly got better at using and manipulating them until he felt no difference from yesterday.

Once finished, the doctor got up and was going to leave the room with only the two of them inside, but the kid's pensive stare caused him to chat unnecessarily.

Sigh

"Your quirk is an anomaly, not related to either of your parents; it seems like your body has a separate organ inside of you that should be responsible for your fast healing. I don't know if any adverse effects will occur, as only time will tell, but for now, you should be safe."

He didn't know why he was using complicated words with a kid, as if he would know what he was saying, but the doctor just felt like the oddly mature boy knew.

Confirming his thoughts, Ken nodded.

"What do you want to name your quirk?" The slightly spooked doctor said.

Again, another conversation he should be having with the father, though this time the boy's maturity wasn't the only reason he asked him.

From the test he ran, malnourishment could easily be found, as well as some scars and bruises, both old and new, all numerous in amount.

'Knowing this boy's recovery rate, even if it wasn't focused on the scars not produced from the back, they still wouldn't have existed for as long as they did, unless they weren't recent, a couple of days old or more.'

Conversations with the teacher confirmed Ken didn't do anything dangerous these past few days, so the only other spot to get them was home.

'Even though he had that shitty personality, would a man really…No I'll think about that later.'

Ken didn't have any outstanding answers, but perhaps entranced by the mood he went with the answer he didn't want to be true in actuality.

"Kagune."

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