A week passed by dreadfully slowly and each day I grew more and more anxious, nerves pulsating through my system. Dad pat my back and assured me I was probably going to get into Yuuei. Probably. That just put me more on edge! What does probably mean!? Will I or won't I get in? Probably is just a big grey area, a word for an optimist and I, sir, am no optimist. Good going, Dad. If I don't get into Yuuei, where will I go? What will I do? I can't live with Dad forever even though he's the best person I know. I didn't apply anywhere else so will I just remain on an elementary school level of education forever despite the fact that I'm already above that? Not trying to toot my own horn or anything. Maybe a truck driver, all I'd need is a driver's license. But I could also drive limousines for famous people, much better income...
Before I knew it, it was already night, pretty late too; I just had some instant ramen for dinner with my thoughts an hour ago because Dad wasn't home yet and I'm too unfocused to cook anything that isn't meant to be burnt. Curtains drawn and fuzzy blankets out shielding me from the sting of the cold, I was sitting on the end of the couch, curled up in my own body heat and watching some movie on TV between the masses of advertisements cluttering the action. Hearing a miniscule click from the door interrupting a seal talking about tiles and their fifty percent discount; I figured Dad was back from work.
"Izu, I'm home." He drawled, proving my small theory correct. He came into the living room, hands occupied with more files than last, same look on his face; utterly finished with today.
"Same case?"
"Same case. This one's a pain. There's little to no evidence and the clues are so obscure no one at the agency knows what to make of 'em." Heaving a sigh, Dad joined me on the couch, snatching some of the navy-blue blanket.
"Obviously One, Two and Three are people. That much should be easy enough to work out." I stated matter-of-factly as I recalled some details.
"Today and yesterday that villain or villains hit again, two places -streets- on the other side of the city from each other, might be a few villains instead of the one."
"Clues?" Dad passed me a file open to the page holding the words.
"I wanted two halves; One didn't want me. Over, under, I tried to reach," The quatrain being built just sounds like someone has really bad abandonment issues. "This villain sure is kooky, that much I can figure out. But like, kooky with a spooky undertone? Like they're not even trying, just showing off what they can do and dangling the answer right under our noses. If you get what I mean." Dad just nodded. I took my phone out of my black jumper's pocket and scrolled through my notes. I tapped on one memo floating amongst a sea of memos, each with its own unique and questionable name; and began typing in the two new verses to join the previous.
"What was left of three was one two:
We're a happy family,
One and Two and Three,
I wanted two halves,
One didn't want me.
Over, under,
I tried to reach.".
Dad and I sat in one another's silence, contemplating the connotation behind the villain's rhyming ballad. We just sat. And thought. And pondered. And scratched our stubble. His stubble. And Dad scratched his stubble. And listened to the small voices from the TV such as a chemist advertisement ruining an old song and making it their own trashy theme song. Zero hasn't been talking lately, whatever's going on at the library must be important; maybe he writes songs in his spare time. It'd be weird to hear Zero sing; It'd sound like I was singing. Am I a good singer? I dunno. Maybe Zero writes stories instead. Can he write? He can be me in, like, my physical form, so probably, but are there any empty books in a library to actually write in? Would he have to write over a book? Where would he get a writing utens-
"So," Interrupting me from my strange train of thought, Dad's gravelly voice slowly proceeded, "The title is obviously 'What was left of three was one two'. And we're assuming One, Two and Three are people, three people in total. What was left of three -as in all three of them- was one two. 'One two' being the person being called Two was the only person remaining or two people both being called number One."
My brain refocused to the task at hand, "If the villain is giving us clues, he'd want them to be cryptic as to not let on who they are but still, I doubt they'd give two people the same number; otherwise they could've had four numbers in the poem instead of three for the sake of our possible but hopefully likely correct interpretation. I'm going to say that Two was the last of the three people left and the poem is telling us why and how." We both nodded in agreement. "'We're a happy family, One and Two and Three'. So they must've been a family or felt like family. Siblings? Parents and the child? Close friends?"
"Parents and their kid makes more sense, rather than doing this all to get revenge on your sibling; it could be torturous towards the other parent over something between them both and the child and I don't think this is some petty friendship rivalry.".
"'I wanted two halves; One didn't want me.', So if Two really is the perp, than we can assume One was or is their lover by the general context. So, Two wanted everything but something must've happened between One and Two because now, they aren't much of a happily family and it sounds like One is kicking Two out -rest in peace Two. We haven't heard about Three so Three is probably their child, maybe really young at the time seeing as they didn't have a say in the matter unless that just couldn't've rhymed but I doubt that that's the case because that's just a really dumb reason. Maybe One and Two were married but Two messed up the relationship by being too greedy -taking two halves- and then the relationship fell apart, meaning Two couldn't see Three anymore or wasn't allowed because One had told Two not to. And then, Two 'tried to reach'. Tried to grab something or maybe figuratively like reach out or grasp a concept instead of a material and literal thing. If it were to be a material thing, Two could've been reaching for One to take them back but by now the situation is turning grim so Two could be trying to take Three from One. 'Over under' suggests they tried being more flexible with their ways or tried harder and looked at the situation from every angle possible. But then, saying 'tried' obviously means the attempt was unsuccessful in the end so that could have an effect on why they went to villainy." I paused for a second, gathering some thoughts as well as breath, "So, we've -I've- concluded that One, Two and Three were a family but then Two became too greedy and the family fell apart, leaving One and Two on bad terms and Three left in the dark with their parents fightinggggggg." Dragging out the last syllable I realised that I'd been mumbling and slurring through my slosh of thoughts. I turned to look at Dad, my face was tinted a light red with embarrassment when he slowly brought his hand up for a light applause.
"That was very hard to keep up with, somehow I did, and I literally have no idea how, but I'll probably forget it in five minutes. Everything sounded plausible, maybe you'll help us catch a villain or two." He pat my back, praising my babbling habit. "Stop doing my job for m- wait. Keep doing my job for me, let me sleep." I felt like grinning, my face muscles did not, "You sure you don't want to become a detective, Izu?".
After that compliment (was it a compliment?), I ran through what I miraculously managed to mumble and gave Dad the important pieces of information, said goodnight then excused myself to sleep. A Detective, though. That doesn't sound half bad. It'd be like a hero but without all of the unwanted attention because the heroes, for some reason, crave the spotlight and I'd gladly let them take it. Being a detective, I wouldn't be at a desk all day, not out in the field the whole time. I could do a course online and if I pass that, intern at an actual station, but I'd have to find a good course and legitimate website, I'll ask Dad later. I'd surely do a lot of thinking, like, testing my brain constantly. I'd probably be paid pretty well if I were to be hired and work my way up the ranks, too. You're allowed to work once you're older than fifteen so I could start soon, I just wouldn't have long hours. And I'd see some of the coolest, if not, strangest things. It could actually be fun. I'd have to work on my social skills a heap but that could just be strengthening my game face around people. My smiley face. But then some things might be really gross, eh, no problem. But then paperwork, ew, it'd surely take up the majority of my work experience if something were to happen but it might also...
_____
I really hate this chapter. I've been stalling getting this out because I'm really not happy with it, but I feel kinda bad for the few people actually invested in this story. Also, why so many reads? The title is ridiculous, the desc is so sad (the original description), the cover is literally something I drew a while back and reused :') I was called an onion and a fishstick too so that's something, something positive though. I wanna call someone irl a fishstick. Welp, the minimum working age in Japan is fifteen, in Australia it's fourteen and nine months. This chapter is DEFINITELY trashier than usual so uhhhhhhh too bad so sad. Aight, toodles.
YOU ARE READING
This Ain't Good
Fanfiction[[ officially discontinued, final chapter for more]] Midoriya Izuku, a struggling teenager with too many voices in his head and not enough friends outside of it, has to sneak through his schooling at the prestigious Yuuei and try stay out of trouble...
