Cracks and Shatters || Nick Cross

Nick did not go out as ‘Nick’ very much anymore. It was simply too dangerous. Too dangerous to be myself, he thought bitterly as he stood in the café doorway clad in a ginger wig, fake glasses and plain clothes chosen deliberately for how they did not stand out. It was not the ‘Sam Turner’ disguise he had worn at the military camp, albeit similar. Keeping his disguises varied would improve his chances of being undetected, he figured.

He turned his weary gaze towards the woman he assumed was the owner as she addressed him.

“Yes,” he replied. “Just a glass of water, please.”

He hoped the bags under his eyes were not too noticeable. Sleep once again evaded him. When he had closed his eyes for an early night his mind had been assaulted by images that had left him sweating and shaking.

He’s lying on a sofa with his arm around her. She rests her head on his chest with her eyes closed and a faint smile on her lips. Everything’s quiet and peaceful and it just feels so right.

It was not a dream he had had often, but every time he did he found himself unable to think of little else upon waking. Nausea swirled within him and made him stagger as he approached a table.

Outside the window there are only fields that seem to go on forever, but that’s okay. They’re away from his mother and her father and everyone else that would want to hurt them. A trio of children that are the perfect blend of both of them run in and out of the room.

He practically collapsed into the seat. He had chosen to sit at a table away from what few other customers there were at such a time, in a corner. He rested his chin on one hand as he used the other to hold the menu, but his mind barely took in anything his eyes roamed over.

He had chosen to come out to this café because of its reputation on the streets for only hiring Quirked people and the owner’s open use of her Quirk. He felt more comfortable at such a place. More accepted. He needed somewhere like this to sit and think.

Nick had barely even been pretending to look at the menu for five minutes and the owner was asking him what he wanted. True, it was because she had brought him the drink he had asked for, but he had thought she would give him a few minutes with the menu at least. He wanted her company about as much as he wanted to be dragged naked through the street. He opened his mouth to retort as much, but then closed it.

Stop it. You don’t need to draw attention to yourself and your problems, and an attitude will do that.

Instead, he gave the menu a quick proper glance to find something, anything that jumped out at him in the next second or so, then nodded to her with the best smile he could fake. “A teacake would be quite nice, I think.”

At her question of whether he would be staying at the place, he shook his head.

“No, thank you. I live in the city.” He was careful to keep it vague and not specify how far from the café he was currently staying. He could never be too sure who was listening.

“I just needed a walk out to clear my head, you know?” he continued, all too aware of how suspicious he must have looked being out at such a time. “Sleep hasn’t been easy these last few days.” At least that much was true, though it went way beyond the last few days.

He wondered then if he should have said yes, he was in fact looking for a place to stay, for that might have been the least suspicious thing to say. Then again he did not want to worry Nari or her mother; for all he knew they might come looking for him if he did not return one night, and that would cause issues he really did not want to deal with at all. (That, and of course the much greater issue of paying for the room).

She snickered. At Nick? He was the most awake he had ever been just like that. His gaze hardened, eyes as cold as the Arctic wastes. His body reached a new level of tense. His hands curled into fists.

No one laughs at me, you whore!

Before he could act, however, she claimed her snicker had not been aimed at him and quickly went on to explain the other side of her business. His hands uncurled again, but not all of the tension left his body.

It was an intelligent use of her Quirk, he would give her that. And yes, it was quite the marvellous coincidence. Even so, he instinctively wanted to dismiss her offer, aware of how very silly an idea it was to accept a stranger’s offer to essentially drug him.

Then he thought of Rin’s face again, and no matter what, he could not bring himself to turn the offer down.

“You say it stops bad dreams?” he asked. He shuffled uneasily, reluctant to reveal any weakness in himself, even to a complete stranger he would likely never see again. “I’ve been having those a lot as of late.”

And by ‘a lot’ he meant ‘almost constantly’. ‘Almost’ because he still did not know whether to categorise his most recent dream as a true nightmare or not. His other dreams had all been straight up terrifying, full of darkness and voices endlessly screaming about how much of a failure he was and how alone he would always be. The most recent one had made him feel good about himself - at least until he had woken up, at which point reality had come crashing in.

It did make him all kinds of uncomfortable looking back at it, though, so there was that.

Nick listened quietly to her further explanation. It sounded like everything he so desperately needed: pure, undisturbed rest. A part of him still balked at it, however, and a voice in his mind representing this part angrily scolded him;

Are you really going to accept such a ludicrous offer? Don’t be a fool. She could cut out your organs to sell on the black market. Steal your DNA for whatever purpose. Take off your wig and find out who you truly are…

A kidnapper, a criminal, a monster. He could only imagine how much her attitude towards him would change if she had even an inkling of his actions. He really did not fancy waking up in a prison cell…

And yet he could not say no. The word was at the front of his mouth but just would not leave it. The thought of at least one night without being plagued by nightmares and bizarre visions was simply too tempting to resist. He had forgotten what a good rest was. Besides, if she did anything shady with the aid of her sleep sand then surely word would have gotten out, would it not?

He narrowed his eyes a bit when she took a seat opposite him, but said nothing of it. It was her establishment, after all, meaning she could sit where she pleased, and they were having a conversation so her continuing to stand would have looked odd.

Then she asked him his name. Oh damn it, quick think of something...

“My apologies,” he said with the fakest sincerity he could muster. “My name is Boris.” It was the first name that popped into his head. “Boris Johnson.” Again, the first surname he thought of. “I’m a college student originally from England - though I imagine you might already have guessed that from my accent.” Somehow he was able to fake a laugh, though it was followed by a genuine heavy sigh.

“Yeah,” he said after a moment of quiet contemplation. “Yeah, I’ll take up your offer.”

Nari surely won’t mind if I’m gone for just one night - hell, who am I kidding? She won’t even notice. She’s probably too busy killing people.

A thousand voices continued to clamour in Nick’s mind, demanding to know if he was truly serious about this and if he had well and truly lost his marbles. He honestly had no idea anymore.

I just want to rest. Just for one night…

He tried not to wince himself as she made a mention of his least favourite place in the world, Yuuei.

“Ah, I don’t go there,” he said. Not anymore, at least. He knew he could never return there after what he had done; his former homeroom teacher’s recent attempt to arrest him had only accentuated that. “It’s a normal college for me.”

He was somehow just able to fake a smile after her joke about trying to speak English to him. It would certainly be ironic after he went around speaking broken Japanese in his previous disguise. Though it would probably annoy him...

Whatever he was going to say, however, was lost as the door was suddenly pushed open. The heavy smell of booze hit his nostrils and he resisted the urge to gag. He narrowed his eyes at the reprobates leering in the doorway.

Wonderful. Not just Quirkless fools, but drunken Quirkless fools. My favourite kind.

He sat there and listened to the drunkard spout off his nonsense, his fingers digging deeper into the wood of the table before him the more he heard. It did not matter where he went. What he did. Who he spoke to. Reminders of his true purpose would follow him and find him whether he was in the mood for them or not.

As always, I must teach the weak their place.

Nick exploded from his seat like a beast unleashed from the depths of Hell itself. The familiar inky blackness of his Quirk erupted from the growth on his back and consumed him, forming his armour in a matter of milliseconds. His shoulder collided with the Quirkless scumbag harassing Nemuri; a vicious tackle that would make even the most ill-reputed of footballers flinch.

Considering Nick’s armour had reached a state where it was as tough as bronze, to say it went badly for the drunken Quirkless fool would be an understatement. He definitely heard something crack. The Quirkless ingrate was knocked flying back into the wall.

Nick stood over the idiot, his look of sheer disgust hidden beneath his armour’s mask, thankfully for those around him, for they would have found it most unsettling. “Damn Quirkless…” He rounded on the other man that had entered the cafe and allowed his tendrils to burst from the palms of his hands. “You won’t let us have anything to ourselves, will you?”

He lunged at the other man without waiting to see if this man was even going to do anything. He swung his whips in a wild, savage frenzy, not letting up for a second - though he was also not terribly mindful of the damage this might do to the cafe, or the other patrons there for that matter. Nor did he realise he was laughing - but damn, letting off all the pent up rage and bitterness within him felt good.

Nick retracted his whips so that he could haul the man into the air with one hand. The man’s body was now covered in bleeding red cuts from his thorough lashing. Nick curled his other hand into a fist and launched it straight into his face. Blood and teeth flew in several directions.

He pulled his hand back for another punch when the sound of glass shattering brought him out of his violent frenzy for just a moment. He glanced back to see what was definitely a concrete brick surrounded by the remains of one of the cafe windows on the floor.

Really? They must actually want me to maul them or something - well, I’m more than happy to oblige.

With a ‘tch’ he hurled the man towards the idiot who had started it all, so they could lie there in a miserable pile together.

He then strode out of the cafe as casually as he would if he were walking to buy groceries.

“I can’t tell if it was brave of you or utterly stupid to do that when you know I’m here,” he said conversationally to the idiots outside, the ones who did not have the balls to walk in but would still vandalise the place from a distance. He mock-gestured putting a finger to his head to think, then lowered it again. “No, wait - it was utterly bloody stupid!”

The Quirkless did not wait for him to finish speaking, of course, and came at him a messy drunken rabble. He threw himself at the nearest of the Quirkless morons with speed none of them could hope to match. He drove his knee into the man’s ribcage and definitely heard several things crack. The man dropped like the sack of shit he was.

The others were upon Nick, then. A fist struck the side of his head, but his strengthened armour absorbed the brunt of the impact, and it seemed the offender was more hurt from the way he gripped his hand and pathetically yelped. Nick seized the offender and crushed his nose with a brutal headbutt, again his armour absorbing most of the shock of the collision.

Another drunken idiot wrapped his arms around Nick’s torso and was strong enough to bring Nick down with him as he fell back onto the ground. Nick grunted, mildly shook from the force, but recovered faster than the idiot did. He got to his feet again before the idiot was even halfway sat up, grabbed the front of the idiot’s shirt with both hands and used him to slam down another idiot who was rushing towards him.

Nick stood surrounded by the battered Quirkless, breathing fast from the sheer rush of adrenaline and excitement.

They never even had a chance. What wastes of space.

His mouth twisted into a wide, wicked grin beneath his mask.

“Who’s next?” he roared.

Nick could not remember the previous time he felt so exhilarated. Every last millimetre of his body was overcharged with excitement on a level he had never known. If he had been tired before, he was more awake than ever now, ironically enough given his reason for being there.

He threw back his head and let loose a wicked laugh that was as uproarious as it was chilling. It bounced off the walls of the street and echoed across the neighbourhood. He just needed to let it all out, let the world know exactly how he was feeling.

His laughter was cut abruptly short, however, when he sensed movement beside him and a hand gently touched his shoulder. He whirled around with a vicious snarl, but the tension went out of him when he saw it was only Nemuri. He looked away, grunting in a way that was halfway between annoyed and sheepish. “Don’t sneak up on me like that. I could’ve torn your arms off just then.”

She frankly had no idea how lucky she was he had not, at least in his opinion. Adrenaline continued to rage within him. He still wanted to fight, to rip and tear and to crush all the weaklings in his path.

But she has a Quirk, and she makes intelligent use of it, so she’s not an enemy. You would regret attacking her.

He took long, slow breaths to do his best to calm himself, with a little bit of success at least. He could already tell the adrenaline crash was going to be hell, so perhaps it was still a good thing she had offered him her sand service.

“This?” He raised an arm at her question about his armour. “This is my Quirk. I should think that much was obvious.”

How could she not tell it was his Quirk? What a bloody daft tart, honestly.

With a sigh, he allowed his armour to return to its liquid state and recede from his body. It did so obediently - but pulled his red-headed wig off his head in the process. He could almost hear his heart plummet along with the wig as it dropped to the ground.

“Fuck.”

The universe simply would not allow him to have even one moment of triumph.