Fulgenzio Scarsella was a small man with olive skin and a trumpet nose.

He had deep wrinkles that furrowed his face and cheeks that hung like a bulldog's, chubby little fingers with no nails, and short legs that wouldn't get him very far if he had to run.

Fulgenzio was no threat.

He was a retired old man, a prominent member of the Mustafu Bridge Club, married to an equally old woman, an active practitioner of yoga and tennis.

Fulgenzio was my psychologist made in Italy and paid for generously by Teka for almost six years.

He was one of the few people I could describe as incorruptible - or at least fairly aware of the consequences of opening his mouth in the wrong place to the wrong person.

He didn't aspire to much more than eating out with his wife on Sundays and donating most of his six-figure salary to charity.

A rare breed. The kind of man you don't find on the streets anymore.

- How was your week, Shoto ? he asked me, stretched out on a sofa, his eyes looking up at the glass ceiling.

Lying on my own sofa, I watched the clouds move across the sunny blue sky.

Fulgenzio had arranged our 'lazy session', as he liked to call it, because I'd once told him that being the only one lying down while he watched me made me nervous, as if I were sitting an exam that I'd have to cheat to pass.

- Fine. I guess.

He listened to me talk about my days in Nagano, the countless restaurants Hawks had dragged me to and the distinctly endless feeling I got at each new lenghtened meal.

I had the uncomfortable feeling that I was wasting my time repeating nonsense, but at the same time I knew it was necessary.

I've got enough to worry about without having my psyche threaten to collapse.

- Be positive, Shoto. Be positive: 'It could have been worse'

- It could have been worse, I admitted.

I knew he was smiling, his little moustache shadowing his upper lip.

- This Hawks doesn't look like a bad guy to me, he added. He seems to take good care of you.

I shrugged, though he couldn't see it.

- I suppose

- He could have told you to look after yourself, that managing you in a town that had suffered such a tragedy was part of your 'punishment'.

I didn't know Hawks very well, but that seemed to me to be the antithesis of his personality.

- I can't imagine him doing that.

A sudden thought flashed through my mind.

Maybe he's trying to gain my trust so I'll side with the Commission.

- Exactly! You have to trust your judgement, Shoto.

The last time I trusted my 'judgement', I decapitated a man in a public place.

- Hmm

- You're a very logical and rational boy, Shoto. If you don't let your emotions get the better of you, you can trust yourself.

Could I ?

I frowned and concentrated on a cloud that floated like cotton wool above our heads.

If I focused hard enough, I could make the black outlines of the glass tiles that made up the ceiling disappear.

- I've... had other episodes.

For a moment Fulgenzio said nothing, and I knew that the turn of the conversation had taken him by surprise.

- Didn't you tell me that your paranoia had practically disappeared?

His voice was high, three octaves above normal.
He asked the question even though he already knew the answer: his Quirk was absolute memory, the impossibility of forgetting even the smallest sound, the slightest smell, the faintest sensation.

But he gave me a way out, a way to explain myself without feeling as if he had cornered me.

- I lied

Fulgenzio didn't answer.

He knew that I more or less occasionally lied for more or less benign reasons.

- How are the episodes ?

They're spaced out, but more intense.

- Spaced out but more intense

- How exactly ?

I didn't answer.

Fulgenzio continued:

- Has anything important happened recently?

My left hand twitched nervously, but I didn't answer.

- Does it have anything to do with the quarrel between you and your father?

- No, I...

I remained silent, my ability to express myself fading as I searched for the proper words - or at least the correct words.

- Take your time, Fulgenzio said.

From anyone else, these words would have sounded patronising.

But I knew Fulgenzio well enough to know that he could keep quiet for an hour if that's how long it took me to express myself properly.

- There's this thing I did recently. A very big mistake.

- The kind I'd rather not know about, right ?

- Exactly

I licked my dry lips, trying to get my thoughts straight.

- It was... I had a sudden burst of anger and I did... something I could have avoided. That's why Hawks 'punished' me.

- Does your father know?

- No, he doesn't.

I heard Fulgenzio inhale sharply and then close his mouth again, his lips slapping together with a smack.

I could hear his thoughts without having to be telepathic: 'What? The crazy boy didn't tell daddy Todoroki, even though he always tells him everything ?'

- Why ?

Because I'm afraid of how he'll react, because I'm afraid that the gap between us will widen.

- Because I'm afraid he'll realise there's something wrong with me.

Because I'm afraid he'll think I'm not worth it and abandon me.

- Don't say that, Shoto. You've come a long way: don't let a simple relapse ruin years of hard work.

- I still can't control myself, I said. I'm trying, but there's this thing...

I am already at a loss for words.

- The ball of anger

- Yes, the ball of anger : it gets stuck in my throat, my thoughts become blurred and then- then- I can't control myself.

I grew silent, unable to go on.

- But it's better than before, isn't it?, said Fulgenzio.

I'm not so sure.

- You don't fight with your comrades for no reason now, right ?

True.

- Yes, I muttered.

- You see ? That's progress !

Maybe he's right.

Suddenly the colourful, vivid, perfect image of the man with his legs crushed in the burning shopping centre came back to me.

I remembered his smell and the metallic flavor of blood I could already taste on my tongue.

I remembered his shining eyes and the way he had begged me to put him out of his misery.

I remembered the ease with which I had accepted, the way my hand had covered his mouth as his warm, living breath, brushed my fingers.

He had died like all the other men I had killed, no more spectacular or ordinary than the others.

I knew that if I hadn't activated my sharingan at that moment, the outline of his face would have already faded from my memory.

- Fulgenzio ?

- Yes ?

- What is a murdered?

Fulgenzio squirmed, his clothes rubbing against the sofa, and I imagined him wriggling like an earthworm emerging from the ground after rain.

- A murderer ? Hmm, if I remember the terms correctly, a murderer is a person who commits voluntary manslaughter without premeditation. That's the big difference with an assassin, who commits voluntary manslaughter with premeditation.

Without premeditation...

- Furthermore, murder is considered a crime against humanity, whereas assassination is a crime against public order...

I smoothed my perfectly pressed trousers several times in a row. My knee twitched and I put my hand on it to force myself to calm down.

I could no longer see the blue sky or the clouds passing overhead.

- Do you think...

My heart stopped in my chest and for a second I thought I wouldn't dare finish my sentence.

- Do you think I'm a murderer ?

There was a moment of silence.

- What makes you think that?

- Sometimes I get the impression that...

...that I could kill people without realising how grave it is.

- What?, Fulgenzio asked gently.

- I just...

I raised my arms slightly before letting them fall back onto the sofa, helpless.

- Sometimes I feel disconnected. Like nothing makes sense.

As if I didn't make sense.

- Meaning ?

Is he doing it on purpose ?

I suddenly became angry, and for a second I imagined straddling the old man and strangling him.

Then I blinked and the only thing I could see was the pure, fluffy clouds.

I took deep, discreet breaths to calm myself and counted to ten three times in a row until the ball of rage returned to its dark lair.

Slowly, almost in fear that it would wake if I spoke too loudly, I continued:

- I'm just trying to... make sense of it all.

And I vaguely waved my hand to indicate the famous 'it'.

- You mean life, Fulgenzio murmured, his tone as hushed as mine.

Life, death, everything in between.

- Indeed, that's an excellent question, Fulgenzio said. The answer is not something you can find after a few hours of reflection, but something you have to live to understand.

- And what do you think ?

- Well, to tell you the truth, I don't really know.

He laughed and I felt disappointed.

- But I think we find meaning in the little things, you know ? In the beauty of a sunset or the joy of a laugh shared with loved ones. In a meal prepared with care, or a gesture of comfort when things go wrong. In the hand of a stranger who reaches out to us when we've hit rock bottom.

I leaned on one elbow, all my attention on Fulgenzio.

He kept looking up at the clouds, his hands crossed over his chest, his eyes glazed over, as if he wasn't really there anymore.

- I don't believe that life has a 'hidden meaning' or that we have to do 'great things' to make our lives meaningful. We're the ones who give it meaning, you know ? It's you and me and everybody else on this earth and what we choose. There is no past or future: only the present and what we choose to do with it. Do you understand that?

- I... think I do.

I thought about the fishing rods left on a rock while my father and I swam, about Teka showing me around the Italian countryside for hours in the blazing sun, about my father's face when I gave him the original copy of Lorenzaccio, about the short stay I'd had with the future members of my Familia, all the mischief Leo, Natsu and I had gotten into that should have gotten us expelled from our schools, the time I'd almost gotten into a fight with Katsuki in the locker room, the way Hawks - Keigo - had reached out to me and forgiven me for something no one else but my father would have done.

Maybe I'd been wrong.

Maybe I hadn't blown it all yet.

- Out of curiosity, Shoto, why did you bring advance our appointment to this week ?

- I needed to talk, I said.

My first thought was that I'd already said too much, that he'd use it against me, that it would all come back to bite me.

My second thought was that even if he did use it against me, it wouldn't be a problem because it didn't really matter.

Fulgenzio turned his head towards me and smiled.

- I'm glad, Shoto. I hope this has made you feel better.

It did.

- I know you must have good reasons for not telling me about your recent 'mistake', and I won't ask you to explain it to me - and I certainly won't tell your father. But I would like you to take this opportunity to discuss it with someone: someone you trust, someone who might understand.

- ... I'll think about it

Fulgenzio's smile widened.

- That's all I ask.

For the first time in weeks, I had real hope that I could change.

*

Author's note :

We finally reached 300,000 words on every platform !

Very happy about it, honestly I didn't think I was cut out to write as much lmao.

Tell me what you thought of the chapter in the comments or whatever else you want to talk about.

Also, started 'Battle Royale' by Houshun Takami (you know, there's even this movie adaptation with the teens killing each other) and it is giving me plenty of ideas for my next fanfic (yeah I know, should only focus on one thing at a time but the closer I get to the end the more my mind drifts away).

Anyway, if you want to read ahead of schedule, then go check the story's P@treon, Nar_cisseENG

See you in the next update everyone !