Slice of Life and growing up in the strange world of BnHA Verse
if there was a mistake in grammar, capitalization, punctuation, verbiage? etc, and it hurt your sensibilities...just quote them and write the correction.
Why didn't I use online or offline tools, dictionary, Grammarly, etc. to correct my mistake? no time and no money for long internet connection, and cheap internet in this corner of the world were like 20kbps tops.
I already sacrificed my food budget so that I could get internet from home instead of renting it by the hour at an internet cafe. I planned to make money by uploading my story every other day and use the traffic to get rep for my online shop on that one site. but now the money is gone and no internet in sight.
I'll just update this story when I could, and will fix the grammar and wrongly used word and term one day in the future when my life is more stable.
Help also needed in naming these characters, if you could. I was going to name them according to their quirk, but I gave up.
If there was an error in grammar or word usage, just quote. I already felt fed up with re-reading to QC this and decided to just post and worry about plotline rather than worry about language rules and usage.
Type of SI : Gradual memory recovery and fusion, not a continuation of previous self.
Chapter 1
He didn't know what happened but suddenly he was on the ground lying on his stomach with blood trickling down from his aching nose. His t-shirt was wet and sticky, and there was a puddle of blood right under where his nose and cheek was, so it looked like he was here for quite some time. He decided to at least try to sit down instead of keeping his position of lying down on the cold tiled floor. But when he succeeded in changing his posture to sitting, what he saw were different from his previous conclusion.
He was on a wet floor next to an overturned bucket, scattered cleaning tools, and a plastic sign with a slipping man drawn on it. The sticky feeling on his torso was from a melting Ice cream popsicle, not from the bloody puddle where his tender nose kissed the floor. The bloody puddle didn't even reach the collar of his t-shirt. From all the evidence he saw around him, he concluded that it was an accidental self-inflicted injury. It looked like he was distracted while eating Ice cream, slipped down from colliding with bucket and cleaning tools, and kissed the floor enthusiastically using his nose.
When he tried to wipe his bloody nose it's still felt painful, he even gets brief dizziness. He wondered whether his bloody nose was just a superficial injury or he actually got a concussion and the blood was from a brain hemorrhage or something. He decided to abort doing a thorough cleaning of his face and only do a cursory wipe on the dirty part of his face outside of the nose. When he finished cleaning his sticky cheek from blood, he placed the palm he used to wipe the blood with under his face, using it to stop the blood that still leaked from dripping on his clothes.
He looked around to see where he was, and he saw the shelves full of snacks on his left and shelves of stationery on his right. It looked like some kind of shop, some kind of a convenience store, mini-mart or maybe a mall judging from the diversity of the product and the size of the shelves. There was something wrong with the snacks and other product labels, but he was not sure what was the cause. He wondered if it was because the brand of the merchandise was different from what he could remember.
His eyes were drawn to the mess around him, and he surmised that his fall should make a loud clatter at the very least. The cleaning tool and the bucket were hard plastic, but it was the kind of product that will make quite a distinct sound when it was thrown to the hard unyielding surface. He's curious because there wasn't anybody checking for quite some time since his fall. the place was still quiet, and there was no one that could be seen on both ends of the aisle.
He sat and look around him for another five minutes before he stood up to get some help. And maybe find out which store had lousy service. He thought he could take a little bit of walking because his nose was not throbbing painfully anymore. The blood was still trickling one drop at a time though, and it was staining his t-shirt when he doesn't manage to catch it with his palm. The aisle he was and the surrounding was so quiet that he felt the only thing to complete it into a scene of a low budget horror movie was by changing the color of the lamp above – and make it flicker at a set time.
Before he walked away he looked down at his blood puddle in the ground for the last time. He was suddenly struck with naughty and juvenile urge to assert his opinion on this shop in general. He thought since chalk won't leave a distinct impression on smooth tile, then he should get a permanent marker. It shouldn't be hard finding one in a convenience shop, and then he would be back here to draw a corpse body line sketch-like on those crime scene investigation police drama.
He held his chin while grinning mischievously for a while before deciding that he should rein his rampant imagination this time. He thought that doing that will just bring extra trouble that wouldn't be able to be enjoyed since he was currently injured, even if the injury was just aching nose. He also took consideration the fact that the edge of the blood puddle and the blood-splattered outside of it looked different than the rest. it looked like those were almost dried, and cleaning dried blood so it wouldn't leave a stain was sometimes such a chore.
So he just turned around in a random direction, picking whichever direction he thought he should go to get help on a whim. He walked off, leaving the puddle of blood, melted ice cream, and overturned bucket imagining the reaction of the janitor who would find it.
...[]
As he walked around randomly, he heard a loud commotion that sounds like a bunch of people talking over each other. He wondered if it was those soccer moms on a sale hour or the place where the cashier holding off the line of people saying something along the line of 'shut up and take my money!'.
Since either was a valid place he should go to ask for help, he walked over without much thinking, mind still preoccupied with the product lining the shelves on both sides of him. He did find some people before, but they looked busy and wouldn't be amenable to request of help so he only gave them a glance before ignoring them.
There was something weird about them too, but he didn't want to be nosy so he kept walking instead of staring at them until he found out what made them different from normal people. But then he found something that he couldn't ignore when his eyes passed over a big guy with dreadlock and thuggish fashion style. His eyes kept wandering back on the gangsta guy busy picking up milk and his brain kept telling him to inspect him.
There was something wrong with what he was seeing, but for the life of him, he couldn't quite make out what it was. Something really really wrong. It's something about the person currently in front of him, the way he was wearing his pants if it could be called wearing pants at all.
The man's back was facing him, wearing a super big xxl t-shirt and he could see that the part of the pant that was supposed to be placed at the man's waist was dropping down at the ankle level. The gangster style pants looked awkward, but somehow he felt that the man was wearing his pants correctly.
So he took a shot in the dark and psyching himself before calling out, "Hey, Uncle!" the man just glanced at him before dismissing him, so he said it louder"Your pants are dropping down to your ankle!"
The man panickedly bent down to reach the pants, and only dragged it up slightly. There was tittering laugh from somewhere near, and the man glared down at him with flushed face, his long dreadlock hair looked like inflating at the tip "Don't mess around, nosy brat!" the man glared at him harder before walking away. "I'm not your Uncle, and my pants are right where they supposed to be, okay!" After a couple of steps, the man sighed loudly from his mouth before muttering under his breath. "...Shitty kid..."
When the man bent down to pick up his pants, he found out what was different and made his brain note its wrongness. It turned out that the man had a stout leg, waist right above the place where the ankle was supposed to be for everybody else, and he had long – very long, absurdly long - torso. The scene was too strange that he got stuck there flapping his mouth opening and closing without any sound escaping it while his right hand is lifted with finger stretched in the pose of complaining person. He was sure that he remembered a different scene in his memory with similar circumstances where the man in the picture was just dressing according to trending gangsta style instead of this.
The picture in his memory was the funny post about a person who wore xxxl long t-shirt and had his pants on the ankle, with the caption of "gangsta stylezz". It was reposted again with extra painted in ms paint about his body structure, with the caption of "hey, don't diss on someone who's born deformed!" he knows for sure that it was just a joke posted on meme site, but seeing someone who actually had that kind of body IRL was surreal. 'did he actually born that way?' and he remembered the way the dreadlock hair's tips flaring and inflating. 'what the hell! don't tell me he's born out of long bloodline of gangster and evolved to look like that!'
A bunch of girls with uniform and wildly colored hair and skin passed him by giggling while pointing at him, talking at each other with hushed whisper interspersed with giggling together at every other sentence. "...kid kinda looks stupid..." "confidently making trouble..." "...tually he's kinda cu..." "why?" "...say the stupider they are, the cuter th..." each whisper became more indistinct the farther away they walk, and soon the only recognizable sound coming from them was the high pitched giggling before they disappeared in the distance.
He decided right there and then that this latest embarrassing episode was something unacceptable and he should get somewhere unobtrusive to sit. He would then try to make sense of what is okay and normal and what actually made the mundane scene of people shopping felt weird and abnormal. There was just too much of a jarring inconsistency between what he saw in this place and what he thought as common sense and a scene of normalcy.
He wasn't a hundred percent sure that he was in real life or dreaming, some of his most memorable dream - like how he was an archaeological university student studying technological fossil of an ancient magitek civilization of dinosaur which became extinct because an anarchist dinosaur called down a meteor - felt just as real as this one. He woke up that morning quite confused after experiencing a decade long wankfest dream that actually only happened in the span of one night.
After basic dream check like pinching hand to check for pain and feeling it, he went on to check for world inconsistency by listing fact and checking all the sign. The first fact; he didn't remember anything before waking up in a puddle of blood inside a mall. Most of his dream was sudden in media res, like that time he dreamt about finding a corpse of a girl and he wanted to hide it somewhere, so this could also be marked on probably a dream.
Next fact, he thought he was in a shop somewhere and the product was off. He moved closer to a product shelf and took one kitchen utensil and inspect it thoroughly. After checking it twice he found that it was the writing on the brand of the product. He didn't notice it since he could read it just fine, but the word was actually not a roman alphabet but Japanese katakana and kanji. Is it real kanji though? Those dinosaur hieroglyphs from the dream also looked legit, another mark in maybe dream?
Another fact, people looked weird and somehow different from what he remembered. He started to stare at a passerby, and his gaze was attracted to a pale red-skinned big sister who had big horns... her tail was swishing lazily from left to right. he moved his eyes away to the hairy dog-faced guy with big torso who moved on four like a gorilla. He moved his eyes again to another person, noting their distinctive characteristic and try to find the common denominator. Those people looked natural and not some cosplayers with realistic costumes.
Those people were also bigger than him, in both size and girth. He suddenly got an epiphany and hurriedly inspect the size of his own body and limbs. Turned out that he was pint-sized and from inspecting the size and proportion of his finger, it was not because dwarfism and not because all other people were xxxl sized.
Being a kid again in japan, and surrounded with people with the body that deviated from standard human biology still didn't tell him what the setting was, so he inspected the poster in front of the shelves containing plastic toy figurine. It said selling miniature toy figurine of pro hero, guaranteed to resemble the real version. After another inspection, he found that these toys were based on a real-life person, and one of them was an expensive toy with movable joint depicting the number one pro hero.
He was in Japan, in a society where superpower – or just non-standard body types, extra limb and exotic feature – were the norm, and the number one hero is an American. The blonde hair, weird hairstyle, and the shading on the face... He concluded that this might be a dream with fusion setting between an American superhero comic and slice of life set in japan. He still needed to check for any abnormal behavior among the native inhabitant to be sure that this was not actually a dream.
When he was still busy daydreaming and fantasizing story scenario, something suddenly touched his shoulder. He looked toward his shoulder to find out what was interrupting his thought, and it was the hand of a tall and slender woman with pale grayish-white skin. Her shoulder-long dark blue hair was let down over her shoulder, framing the face with an elfin feature. Her narrowed slanted eyes were decorated with dark-colored eye-shadow and there was facial paint on her cheek.
"...there you are."
He was sure he knew who this woman was, so he didn't try to move her hand away. As he scrutinized her beautiful expressionless face, some information coming up from his brain on who was this woman in front of him. He inadvertently made a smile and greeted her in a relaxed tone.