Shockwave | MHA | Dabi/Male OC

Chapter 22

"We finally meet at last, Shockwave."

-

Shockwave would never forget the first time his father struck him.

At the tender age of six, Shockwave had made the audacious decision to interrupt his older brother's training session, driven by an eager desire to participate. However, his act of disobedience was met with swift retribution from his father. With a quick yet measured force, his father's hand connected with the side of his face in a resounding slap. Although the blow was intentionally restrained, it still carried a sting that should have sent his young head reeling.

It hurt, that was unmistakable, but he hadn't moved.

Metal Fist, his father, recoiled slightly, his expression a mixture of surprise and incredulity. Yet, what followed was even more extraordinary. A radiant glow, pulsating with vibrant hues of violet and magenta, illuminated Shockwave's face, only to recede beneath the surface of his skin.

A quirk manifestation.

-

Shockwave's tenuous grasp on reality wavered as he found himself in a disoriented state, only vaguely aware of his surroundings. An elderly figure, appearing weathered by time, moved swiftly with purpose, securing each of his limbs to restraints and extending his body across an elevated table. In his dazed state, Shockwave mumbled incoherently, struggling to comprehend the purpose of the multitude of wires being haphazardly attached to him. The touch of hands against his battered and blood-soaked clothing sent a surge of panic coursing through him, eliciting a feeble jolt accompanied by a strained groan.

"Don't touch me," he managed to slur, his voice weakened and laced with desperation.

Yet, Dr. Ujiko, consumed by his own zealous fervor, paid no heed to Shockwave's plea, wholly engrossed in his macabre work. The doctor's impassioned ramblings, fueled by a twisted enthusiasm, fell upon deaf ears as Shockwave's consciousness continued to wane, his grip on reality slipping further with each passing moment.

"D... Don't touch me..."

-

He was never allowed to play with his brother as a kid. Noble was eight years his senior and was already well on the track to becoming a renowned hero like their father. The eldest son had been blessed with his father's metal kinetic quirk, backed by the raw power of their mother's potent soothing quirk.

They said their youngest son had been cursed.

Cursed to forever carry pain inflicted on him.

Shockwave's father never hit him again, but he didn't need to. The throbbing ache in the side of his cheek served as a constant reminder.

As the years raced by, the weight of unbearable agony grew increasingly oppressive for Shockwave. Time seemed to slip through his fingers, and before he could fully comprehend it, he found himself at the age of eighteen, grappling with a pain that seemed to intensify with each passing day. The proximity of his own family became unbearable if one could even refer to it as such. He felt nothing more than an expendable afterthought, a flawed spare, while his parents reveled in the glory of their illustrious achievement—his older brother's meteoric rise to the ranks of the top ten heroes before even reaching the age of twenty-five. In comparison, Shockwave stood as a lingering embarrassment, an unspeakable stain that his parents dared not acknowledge.

Amidst this neglect, a seething rage began to take root within Shockwave. Unbeknownst to him at the time, he was slowly hollowing out, a mere semblance of a person desperately searching for something, anything, to fill the void that had consumed him.