The first time Anya first brought Shouto over to their home, Yor was just glad the girl had made another friend. He was a well-behaved young boy, and he never caused any trouble while he was with them. She was surprised at how often Anya asked if he could come to play with her, defaulting to Loid’s judgement to decide the response, but nonetheless she was happy that permission was almost always given. Having a little boy around the house reminded her of when Yuri was younger.
Although she had no idea what was went on in the children’s day-to-day lives, she couldn’t help but wonder what had happened when he stopped coming over. She’d asked Anya how her friend was doing after a couple weeks had gone by, but the girl strangely didn’t have much to say about him. Maybe the two of them had gotten into an argument ? Kids could be fickle and hold grudges over small incidents, after all. It was a shame, though. Shouto was such a nice boy. When Anya finally mentioned him again, all worries about whatever had caused the small hiccup in their relationship disappeared and Yor and Loid both encouraged her to invite him to visit.
As it turned out, they should’ve been more concerned about their daughter’s friend.
Yor couldn’t contain her gasp as she opened the door, hands quickly moving to cover her mouth before she hastily shoved down her own emotions and schooled her expression into something she hoped was natural. Smiling gently, she ushered the boy inside and closed the door. She had plenty of questions ( What happened ? And, more importantly, who was responsible ? ) but they could wait. Crouching down to be closer to his level, she greeted him as sweetly as she always did.
“ Hi, Shouto. Are you hungry ? Anya’s dad made cookies yesterday, would you like some ? ”
Unfamiliar to what friendship was, Shoto has been. Forbidden from talking even to his siblings, when school started, a variety of possibilities the boy had never imagined unfolded before him. An environment much different from what he had known his entire life. His world, once limited to his house, had suddenly expanded to a building of hundreds of children and dozens of teachers, whose responsibility was to look after him in the many hours he'd spend apart from his mother. At first, knowing nobody and how to approach anyone, his mind only wandered to how she was doing when he wasn't around, struggling to find peace even for a moment. Until a girl made a move to speak to him, managing to keep busy his troubled mind for the first time.
Anya became his first friend. Shoto never had imagined he'd make a friend, or how happy someone could make him — as if always knowing what he needed to hear, as if knowing how to erase any dark thoughts when he'd have them. Often he'd even visit her house, getting to observe for a few hours what a family different than his own was like. A family where both parents loved their child, along with each other. A family he secretly wished he was part of.
But not this, not the friendship he had with Anya was any longer within his reach. Because he wasn't deserving of anything kind. The scar he had gained on his face was the proof, the reminder of what he was. A creature of hatred. Undeserving of love and kindness, of his mother's gentle touch. He barely remembered how he found himself standing before Anya's mother. He shouldn't be there. The girl had insisted he'd come, undeterred by his silence and avoidance. He couldn't have refused. This was the excuse he told himself. A selfish wish he had, to be treated, if only for a while, as if he wasn't someone to be feared. Mrs. Yor didn't know of the CURSE he carried, and Shoto wanted to take advantage of it. Of a single moment of comfort, to escape from himself to the warmth Anya's household offered.
Hesitantly he walked in, still uncertain about paying them a visit. “ Hello, Mrs. Yor, ” the boy whispered, keeping his gaze on the ground, in an attempt to hide his scar. He should be looking repulsive to her, now. Would she look the same way at him? Her voice was the same, but what if he raised his head and she got scared of him? What if she stared the same way his mother had? Nauseous he felt at the thought, shaking his head in refusal at the offer of cookies. He wouldn't be able to keep anything on his stomach. “ Thank you, but I just finished my lunch. ” An excellent liar he had turned into. His father had trained him, but he had now reached a whole different level, deceiving people with such ease, with no guilt at all.