Hooded Decay

3. The girl and the hood

I'm not one for sob stories. I'm one myself.

I've been confined to my room for far too long, hiding in secret. God, it's gonna feel so good to finally be able to take the fucking Earth and shake it.

But for now, I resort to a simple walk, my hoodie pulled far over my face. Partly because if anyone were to know of my existence too early, it could ruin everything. Someone could say they saw me walking a certain direction, entering a certain building.

A faceless, hoodie clad nobody is what I'm known as for now.

The other reason is because I hate it when people just can't keep their stupid mouths shut. Talking in loud voices about my appearance, not even trying to hide their disgusted faces, their eyebrows furrowed and their eyes looking me up and down like I'm a walking piece of dog shit.

But I don't really care. I hate it, sure, but I know if I wanted to, if I really felt like it, I could kill them, wipe them off the face of the Earth without a trace, no problem. No one would even remember their stupid names.

And someday I'll be able to do just that. Those furrowed eyebrows will be raised, shocked, scared. Their eyes won't be able to look away, frightened and fearful. Instead of insults, they'll gawk at my power. They'll scream.

But patience is a virtue that I must get used to for now.

I love this street. Knowing all the people I'll have to fight have walked or do walk here makes me feel like a spy, a well-versed thief. I've broken onto their territory and they don't suspect a thing.

I look up slightly from the ground, and there she is. UA. I smile at her, but not the smile you'd give a friend. One that you'd give someone that you just found out your partner had cheated on you with. They took them from you, and that sucks. But the one thing in this life that they didn't want for you to do was find out. Information is power and shit, you've got it. And they don't suspect a thing.

As I put my head back down, I feel my bicep collide with someone else's shoulder. Clearly someone shorter than I am. I don't look up, but I hear a feminine voice, I think, it's quite deep. They mutter a quiet but clear 'sorry'. I notice the way they're staring at their shoes as they walk.

They're like me. They weren't looking either.

But that's no hooded nobody. They're a student, I see the green on their shoulders, part of the UA uniform.

They aren't alone, either. Their friend, slightly taller and skinnier than them, stopped and turned around. "So sorry!" I don't stop at first, just keep walking.

"Hey, apologize to him properly."

For some reason, I stop. I turn around, still not looking up all the way, but just enough to see the taller person with their hands on the other's shoulders, turning them towards me.

They bow at a small angle, almost just nodding their head. It's a bow that hates being controlled, told what to do. "I'm sorry. Good morning." They look at me, where my eyes would be if I wasn't looking down. I realize they're both waiting for a response.

I can't talk to them, so I just slowly dip my head back. I feel some of my hair slip towards the edge of my hood, but say nothing. As I stand back up, I realize I have lifted my head slightly higher than I intended.

I see the taller one gasp, their eyes instantly widening, the hand that rested on the smaller person's shoulder now over their mouth. "Let's go, we'll be late, uh, good morning, sir."

The other one, however, has a reaction I've never seen before in a person. It's so foreign that I can't quite put a finger on it.

They tilt their head, as if trying to get a closer look. Their eyes scan my face, but not with disgust, and I let them, there's no point in hiding now. Besides, I want to see what they'll say.

They finish their once over of me and look me dead in the eyes.

"Isn't this a great time and place for a walk?" They asks, face completely serious.

I chuckle a little. "What?"

"Are you not taking a walk?"

"I am but- you talk funny for a high schooler. Sure, why?"

"Just making conversation."

"If you pity me, you don't have to say anything. I'd much rather you pity me and say nothing than pity me and try to make me feel better."

They shook their head. "I don't pity you. I'm sorry for interrupting your walk."

And then they turned and left. I began to walk back to my cell, my prison, my room. The one thing I enjoyed there was the videogames.

I'll never forget that face. Those words. The name tag.

Jiyuu Kimoto