It’s a little late. Too late to be sneaking off of campus. Monoma knows he’ll be scolded for it the second he returns, probably punished worse than that considering. But it’s worth the risk.
Ever since what’s happened, Monoma has hardly seen... anyone. It’s his own fault, really. He’s been trying his best to ignore and avoid anything and everything he could, but the loneliness of his exile was starting to catch up on him.
He doesn’t know where to go, at first. Everyone he’s close to seemed so violently affected. His thoughts drift to the simulation, frown twitching onto his expression as he starts to walk again, dialing his phone and calling the victim of the first death he starts to recall, hoping he’s still awake.
Monoma watches the boy sleeping peacefully besides him for just a moment. Shy and gentle and as carefully as he can manage, he toys with his hair, playing with the dark strands until he rouses slightly in his sleep.
He stops then, waiting until he settles again, then starts over, even more gently than before.
Frowning to himself, he comes to an eventual stop, settling besides him with a sigh. He’s struggling, and the reasons why are hard to place, hard to grasp, hard to come to terms with.
Awase is...
... so kind to him.
And he just can’t understand it.
A sea of gore roils quietly in the back of his skull, dripping down his spine until it oozes slow into his stomach. Monoma quietly wishes the boy was crueler. Less understanding. Less eager to help him. He wishes talking to him didn’t feel like getting flayed in reverse, his skin stinging and raw as it scars over with his perfectly timed words. He wishes he were someone who deserved to be in his presence.
Chewing on his lip, Monoma leans in to kiss his forehead quick before rolling out of the bed and grabbing his phone. As he quietly gets dressed, he stops to scrawl out a quick note, placing it besides Awase’s pillow.
Went for a walk..
Tonight was fun. Thanks. xx
With that, he gives him one more little look before he slips out of the room.
For a short period of time, Monoma is one of the only ones there, the building that served as his home for so long now barren, a prison. After his abrupt and violent awakening from the simulation, he's been more or less trapped here, kept under a steady watch. He feels antsy... restless... wrong... It feels worse, despite the well-meaning nature of such a situation.
But the campus is slowly starting to fill again. People were finding their reasons to move in, getting ready for the new semester... Perhaps even avoiding their growing troubles with something familiar. All at once, Monoma is grateful and apprehensive, protective of his era of solitary. He peeks out in regular intervals, walking through the campus to make note of every new resident.
He's on one of his walks through the campus now, soft glower on his face as he pokes around 1-A and waits for one of the other victims of the game to appear. Any day now...
Monoma’s eyes widen and snap upwards to face his new visitor. A detective looks down on him, hands in her pockets, eyes hard but smile sympathetic as she paces slowly in front of him.
He bites his lip after a moment, fighting back his protests. He needs to keep the act up.
Watching him, an eyebrow raises on her face as she studies his expression. “What, do you think he’ll hurt you here? What did he do to make you too scared to talk to the authorities? Or do you just not want to give him up?”
Paling slightly, Monoma’s eyes return to fix on the table.
She paces a little more, still staring.
“Was that the first time you two have interacted?”
“...”
“Have you ever talked to him before that night?”
“...”
“You are aware of who he is, right? He’s with the League. Has he ever tried to coerce you into any sort of villainous activity, has he ever mentioned it? How close were you two?”
“...”
“Monoma.” She leans closer to him, her hands on the table, interrupting his gaze. “You need to start answering these questions. We’re trying to help you.”
Monoma bites his lip, staring hard as his eyes start to tear up. “I want to talk to Hawks.”
A flicker of recognition passes over her face, acknowledging his sudden break from silence. “He’s not here right now. How did you and Dabi meet?”
His vision blurs, burning as he starts to cry. “I want my parents.”
“They’re not here yet either. How did you and Dabi know each other?”
“...”
Her jaw clenches. “Where did the blood come from, Monoma?”
Monoma flinches.
She continues, uncaring. “You arrived here covered in it. We tested it, it’s yours, you were covered in your own blood and that’s the only thing keeping us from arresting you. You do realize that, yes? How bad this looks, based on this report?”
“...”
“Did he hurt you that night? Has he hurt you before? If you’re being abused, we can-”
“Oh my God...” Monoma covers his face with his hands. He starts sobbing.
Looking stricken, the detective steps back. She waits for him to calm down, only to look guilty when his sobs start to get more out of control. “... Okay. We can stop for now. We can stop.”
“...”
“...” She grimaces before snatching her file up from the desk behind her. Hesitant, she eventually turns on her heel and leaves the room.
Monoma continues for a few more minutes before slowly tapering to a stop, eyes blank as he uncovers his face to check that she’s gone. He frowns to himself, processing her words quietly as he’s left alone again.
