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spacedaisie · 5 years

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it’s dark

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spacedaisie · 5 years

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Ugly.

Anime: Assassination Classroom

Author's note: this is a drabble that randomly came to me at like 1 am so i don't really know why i wrote it either. i've been toying with a nagisa x karma story in my head for a while now so this ties a bit into that. in any case hear it is lol not that i think any of yall are gonna read it

***

"You are an ugly girl."

Nagisa sat on the vanity chair, his legs not even long enough for his feet to touch the floor. He stared with wide eyes at his mother's reflection in the mirror, as she slowly combed out his blue hair.

"You're such an ugly, ugly little girl," she smiled, her eyes becoming little, black crescents.

His head struggled to understand the venom in her voice. How her touch could be so gentle and tender, yet send shivers down his spine. Why her sickeningly, sweet smile never seemed to reach her eyes. Why her tone was soft and kind like silk, but the words that came out of her mouth wrapped around his throat and choked all the air out of his lungs.

Why does mom call me an ugly girl?

The comb slid down to his nape, the sound of bristles being raked through his hair making him sick. A repetitive, monotonous action that made him feel like scratching his ears off.

"My, should we try covering up your ugliness with some clips, dear?" she asked with her fingers placed worrriedly against the side of his chin. He dared not say anything. Only grabbed the hem of his dress a little tighter in his small hands, and squeezed his feet a bit more together.

She smiled again. She looked like a snake.

Carefully she pinned his hair back with cutely, decorated clips - pink and pastel with patterns and little fruits and sweets on them. When she was done, she stepped back and examined her work.

Her smile fell, and along with it Nagisa's heart into his shoes.

"Haaaah, what's this?" she sighed. "What a shame..."

She looked at him through the mirror, catching his gaze. He felt his whole body go cold, swallowing his breath down into his stomach where he hid it away. There was something dark in the woman's eyes, something vile and unnerving. She looked at him like he was a rat. He could feel no love in her eyes. Scared. He was terrified.

"It seems you're so ugly that you only put these clips to shame, Nagisa."

The way she said his name made him want to throw up. He wanted run. Run away, run away his head screamed at him but he couldn't move.

Run away before she eats you!

It was as if all the light was drained from her eyes. Before Nagisa could do anything, her sharp nails were already tangled in his neatly brushed hair, digging into his scalp and shaking him by his head like a ragdoll.

No matter how much he cried out or begged or wept or pleaded, she didn't hear him.

"Why are you so ugly Nagisa? So ugly... Why are you such an ugly girl?" she mumbled incoherently to herself, ripping all the pretty clips from his hair, one by one.

"Ugly."

She repeated the word over and over again until she was screaming it into his ears. Her nails hurt. Her hands were so rough. It hurts. It hurts it hurts it hurts.

With a final jerk she threw him onto the floor, panting heavily as she stood frozen for a moment. Nagisa cried, softly and trying to stuff all the broken sobs back into his throat, in a small, crumpled heap on the floor.

He heard her heels furiously head for the door, and heard it slam shut behind her.

Nagisa couldn't recall how long he cried. Maybe it wasn't very long. He simply remembered rubbing the tears from his eyes with his sleeves as he picked up all the pretty, scattered clips on the floor - pulling the snapped, blue strands out of their metal teeth - and putting them back in their little metal tin.

Looking in the mirror, he felt his eyes burn with tears again, rubbing at them again and hoping it would make the feeling go away.

Slowly, with trembling hands that struggled to hold the brushes' handle, he started to comb out his hair again.

"Ugly."

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spacedaisie · 5 years

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me: hey, brain, it's late. can we just write this thing so we can go to bed and have something tangible to edit tomorrow?

my brain, the baguette-wielding dictator: no. i will only accept perfection. editing is for the weak.

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spacedaisie · 5 years

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