Honoured One of Young Justice

Winning is a curse.

Once you've won once, you have to win again.

And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again. And again And again. And again. And again. And again. And again And again. And again. And again. And again. And

again.

And again.

It is a curse so potent that it brings ruin to any semblance of joy.

A malignant tumour that festers and grows until all the body knew was the cancer.

A heartless killer of satisfaction, of contentment and of fulfilment.

That is the true nature of winning endlessly.

If winning is a blessing to others than it is the greatest of curses to me.

Me.

A person who's seen the true face of such a curse and seen it for what it truly is - a sham

My first victory being at my birth - a victory that most people take for granted after all, a 1 in 400 trillion chance that you or the you that you see before you in the mirror was born and yet we dismiss it with a simple scoff.

I didn't have the luxury of doing that. My birth was a precursor to the misery that followed.

A week into my life my thoughts began to take shape as not just noises without meaning but words.

'Victory.'

That was the word documented in countless newspapers and records. Records of the first baby to speak in their first week of life.

Records that plagued me and clung to me as countless other feats followed.

First child to walk in his first month of life. First child to formulate logical sentences at the ripe age of two weeks old. Fastest solved rubix cube at 4 weeks old. Youngest person ever to take an IQ test and passing that test with such incalculable numbers that it astounded researchers. First child to write a dissotation. First child to solve an equation that left pioneers stumped. First child and person to not only grasp the Riemann hypothesis.

By age 3, I had reached a level that made it clear that I was more than just in a league of my own - I was in another world.

The world couldn't get enough me.

It rarely does when it sees a being excel at everything it does and break conceived notions of normal.

Football. Basketball. Tennis. Track and Field. Golf. Archery. Swimming. Judo. Baseball. Karate. Bobsledding. Skiing. Boxing. Volleyball. Fencing. Brazilian jujisitu. Chess. Cricket. Archery. Muay Thai. Taekwondo. Capoeira. Rugby. Aikido. Hockey. Bull fighting. Badminton. Gymnastics. Equestrian. Darts. Bowling. Horseback archery. Figure skating. Body building.

Any sport you could think of I excelled at - no, I won at. 

Anything I put my mind towards, victory followed suit and so to did the emptiness of it all.

Looks? Just another lottery I had unwillingly won. Academics? Is that a serious question? Athletics? I already talked about my physical performance so why even ask.

You'd think after all such endless tastes of victory it would be insane to not feel contentment.

Not just insane but absolutely ungratefulness of the highest order.

I did for a short while.

I doubt any person wouldn't relish in effortless sweet victory

But the curse of victory was a vile petty curse.

It was a clingy curse that extended its reach far beyond the pitch or ring.

It unveiled itself in the eyes of people around me, latching its tendrils on their perception of what they believed to be a flawless being.

It took root in peoples' minds, speaking through them and puppeteering them as they held me up as an object of reverie.

People tend to distance themselves from those they perceived to be unfathomable. They saw me for my feats and blessings and not the me within - putting me on pedestals like an unsurmountable mountain to be looked at with awe envy and spite but not friended or loved.

Friends were non existent after all its hard to befriend a person who you believe to be in every way superior.

Even my parents couldn't see past the curse. Their hollow love diluted by sweet words of praise and adoration until all they saw was a spectacle rather than a son.

Isolation.

It was pretty dull really.

The curse had stripped the satisfaction of achieving it.

After all what contentment can be gained from achieving something that required you no effort to seize - no trial or stress or hard work just cold empty victory.

Life became a game where each ending felt scripted and predictable.

A game that I was losing. A game that I had lost the very moment I was born. A game that had designated me the role of loser even before it began. A game that I intended to beat even at the cost of my very life.

After all not even I could win over death.

Not even the eternal loser could find victory in something as powerful as death itself.

I had lost in every sense of the word.

…

At least that's what I thought.

My heart beat once more. My blood ebbed and flowed through each organ. I drew in the breath of life once again.

Life.

It coursed through me once more.

After throwing myself off the Golden Gate Bridge at the tender age of 23 I found myself lying amongst rubbish that cushioned my body as apathetic bodies rushed past in swarms.

I found myself drawing breath like the events prior to all this were figments of my imagination, like my decision to put an end to the game was a passing wisp of a dark imagination.

It was almost comical really.

Comical enough that I could laugh. Comical enough that I could cry with tears of joy. Comical enough I could question the bizarreness of my situation with a wry smile. Comical enough that I could burst out in fits of giggles at this very moment.

I tried to escape the confines of the game and beat it by losing and yet even that proved insufficient as the curse still coiled around me in death.

Was this hell? Heaven? A limbo of sorts? Maybe none of the above and I had actually survived the drop and the samiritan that saved me decided it would be better to drop me on trash

Questions riddled my mind whilst I propper my body up for better comfort - even if it was just garbage.

I ran my gaze over my surroundings with blatant curiosity but most importantly disgust.

The putrid air that wafted the streets like miasma, the litter flung across the streets and the lifeless cold husks of civilians that passed by not sparing me a single glance.

Indifference held within their gaze - an indifference brought about by experiences that hardened them and made them grow cold to the world.

What sort of shithole have I found myself in?

My previous questions filled my head.

While the sheer grossness of it all seemed to point to this being hell the people that walked past seemed far too human to be imps or angels.

So just where was I?

Seems like all religions were wrong if life beyond death was just a revamped Detroit.

I felt the tingle in my limbs. I felt the control over my body and so with one swift movement I ordered to rise and it did.

Propelling myself onto my feet with simplicity I observed my surroundings in greater detail yet even I could tell something was wrong.

The lifeless husks that walked past seemed to tower over me, their apathetic gazes washing over me with strangeness dancing.

Strange… I'm not one to boast but it wasn't an exaggeration to say I was tall and yet the average everyday people passing by seemed to make that size seem so small, so insignificant.

Something was wrong.

Even that simple action of getting up felt different.

For the first time since waking up in the place I looked down - I felt my body, I flexed the limbs at my disposal and scanned them.

My skin was pailer. A chalk that matched the white of a spiders web. My fingers were stubbier and childishly small, same with my hands.

Not to mention my arms and legs.

It wasn't that the people around me had gotten taller.

It was that I had gotten shorter - significantly shorter.

This details coupled with the clothes I was wearing - a navy blue hoodie and green shorts that went up to my knees - made me come to two conclusions.

The first being that I had reverted into my child self. A decade prior to my eventual end.

Or what was turning out to be a much more likely outcome.

This…wasn't my body.

It's so funny I could laugh - hell I would've laughed if not for the sharp jolt to my shoulder that sent me flying onto the uneven concrete below.

"Watch where you're goin-." A man just around the age of 30 yet he wore his age like he was 40 loudly walked past. His agitation evident as he peered upon my collapsed body.

His words caught in his throat as if he found something worthy of attention, of a short moment of shock.

"Freak." With venom lacing his tongue he spat before trodding off with a vague goal in mind - like a puppet being carried off by its marionette.

Freak.

I tasted those words in mind.

It hadn't been the first time such a word had been directed towards me after all my natural ability to win was more than freakish.

And yet this man that knew nothing of me spoke those words from one glance of my appearance.

Why?

I pulled myself onto my feet, still adjusting to the shortness of my body whilst I clumsily stumbled to the glass of a nearby shop.

Its windows uncleaned and foggy but good enough to make out as my reflection drew near.

…

A child.

A boy of Asian descent.

A boy that enthralled the very eye.

White hair. Stripped of all colour and shade that practically glowed in the light of the polluted city.

But the feature that stood out the most. The feature that seemed so otherworldly were his eyes.

Sapphire.

Cerulean.

Lapis.

Eyes that ladled the clouds and the eye and shaped the essence into orbs that pierced the soul.

Beautiful.

Is this…me?

My hands reached out to caress my features and trace the child like chubbiness on my cheeks that seemed to extuate the almost ethereal look of the child that gazed back in the mirror.

I played with the snow upon my head that flipped and curled with each sway of my hands.

Just what the hell happene-

My trail of interrupted as before my very eyes, reality seemed to stretch and warp until finally to my shock a blue holographic screen appeared out of nowhere.

"What the hell…"

My thoughts so in disarray that I barely took note of the adolescent cadence in my voice.

[You are chosen]

Ominous black inked words typed themselves onto the screen, the screen warping precariously with each letter.

Chosen?

[Hello! I am A.I.D. Your personal response guide to ensure the will of the Architect is fulfilled and that your task is completed 'Eternal Loser']

Foreign words plastered themselves on the screen that left a feeling I hadn't experienced in a while.

Confusion.

But before any more attempts could be made by me to make sense of such an absurd situation. The words tapped away once more.

[Your mission? Rectify the balance of this universe. Ensure the never ending battle of order and chaos. And of course - win.

[Now, 'Eternal Loser' shall be begin or do you wish to delay your losing streak for longer?]

…

It was comical really.

The game I had tried to escape from had continued even beyond death.

Under new rules and conditions, the game has switched. It had grown cunning. It had taken on a different form. A different shape. A new name.

And yet it was the game nonetheless.

The rules for me had not changed in the slightest - if anything it only reinforced them.

I would beat this game.

I would win through losing.

"Quite a contradictory statement," I chuckled to myself while I stared at my reflection. A wry smile slithering upon my features unbeknownst to me.

Nonsense that couldn't be spouted by any sane person.

Nonsense that could only be said by a natural born loser.

"..Let's begin."

Perhaps this situation could allow me to face true loss once and for all.

A possibility that seemed so small and yet I wanted to chase it with all my heart.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

[A/N* The rewrite begins now and pretty obvious but there are some major changes to the MC

Rather than a Gojo wannabe I want to explore a character that always wins no matter what and sees those endless victories as a loss

Pretty contradictory but contradictory practically insane characters are pretty fun to write

This fic will probably be goofy and have its moments but not on the level of goofy as before

Anywho now that I'm back let's see how much I've improved in my writing and if I can match what I wrote before*]