Ok so im pushing this one out to get it outa the way I know some of you wont like all the back story stuff so yall get 3 chapters this week. If this gets enough interactions with it I may even do 1 more on top of the one for Friday. So hope yall enjoy
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P.S. Please point out any mistakes or anything that feels weirdly written so I can edit it and learn from it. Thank you
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Chapter 15: The Commission's Shadow
Yui fussed over him for a few minutes adjusting the blanket, checking the bandages on his chest, making sure he was comfortable. Cid let her, too drained to protest not that he would. When she finally sat back down, the question that had been burning in her mind since the agents outside finally slipped out.
"Those… men in suits. They wouldn't let anyone in. It was like they were trying to keep us away from you. And principal Nezu mentioned something about the HPSC having a prior connection to you. What was that about, Cid? What aren't you telling us? Telling me?" she said the last part softly, almost a whisper.
Cid closed his eyes for a long second. He considered brushing it off, giving her the same vague "it's complicated" answer he'd given everyone else for the past few years. But the way she looked at him — worried, exhausted, and genuinely caring — made something inside him crack. He sighed, the sound heavy and resigned.
"You really want the whole story? It's going to be long." he asked quietly.
Yui nodded without hesitation. "I do."
He stared at the ceiling for a moment, gathering his thoughts. Then he started talking, voice low and even, like he was reciting a report rather than reliving the worst years of his life.
"It started when I was eight."
-flashback start-
The city was burning.
Eight-year-old Cid stood frozen in the middle of the street, his hand still outstretched toward the spot where his mother's hand had been reaching only moments earlier. Blood — her blood — splattered across his face and shirt, warm and sticky.
He didn't know how long he stood there, staring at the rubble that had buried them. Long enough for the first heroes to arrive on the scene. Long enough for the smoke to sting his eyes and the sirens to become a constant wail in the distance. Long enough for his eye to burn every detail in front of him into his mind forever.
A hero found him, scooped him up, and rushed him to the nearest paramedics. They took him to a hospital later. The nurse who cleaned the blood off his face was gentle, but the pity in her eyes was something Cid would never forget. She looked at him like he was already broken.
That same night, a man in a crisp black suit arrived at the hospital room. He introduced himself as a representative of the Hero Public Safety Commission. "You're coming with us, kid. We'll take good care of you from now on, I promise."
They didn't give him a choice.
The facility they took him to was clean, sterile, and completely isolated. No windows in his room. No other children. Just trainers, doctors, and handlers who spoke in calm, professional voices while they tried to break him down piece by piece.
The training started immediately.
They called it "quirk training and resilience training" To Cid it felt like they were trying to slowly erode him away. They made him run drills until his legs gave out. They forced him to use his Quirk on increasingly difficult targets until his head pounded and blood trickled from his nose. They stopped calling him by his name after a few days, referring to him only by a code number. They told him his power had killed his parents because he wasn't in control, and that the only way to make it right was to listen to them; they knew how to help him control it best.
When he cried, they told him to get up, heroes didn't cry.
When he refused to train, they isolated him for days at a time without food.
When he tried to run away at nine, they brought him back and showed him footage of what happened to people who tried to leave the program previously. The message was clear: there was no leaving. Not alive. They owned him.
The years blurred together in a cycle of exhaustion and being controlled. They told him when to sleep, when to eat, when to use the bathroom, he barely felt like he was in control of his body at times . They taught him to view his Quirk as a weapon first and a part of himself second. They drilled black-ops tactics into him. How to eliminate threats quietly, how to follow orders without question, how to cut off emotions that might make him hesitate. They pushed him harder and harder, trying to mold him into the perfect asset.
Around age 12 he started defying them. The more they pushed, the more Cid pushed back.
At first it was small acts of defiance. He would complete tasks at the bare minimum level. He would give them just enough to keep them from punishing him, but never enough to satisfy them. When they tried to force him to use his Quirk at full power in training simulations, he would refuse.
They responded with "corrective training."
The beatings were always disguised as "hand to hand combat training." A trainer would strike him far harder than necessary during sparring, claiming it was to build pain tolerance. When he flinched or hesitated, the strikes became harder. Broken ribs were called "character building." Bruises and split lips were "necessary for focus." They told him it was all to make him stronger, to make sure he never failed like he had with his parents.
The psychological conditioning was worse after that.
They isolated him for weeks at a time when he rebelled. They showed him edited footage of villains using Quirks to kill innocent people, telling him that without their control he would become one of them and played them on loop when he was in isolation. They reminded him daily that his power had already killed the only family he had, and that the only way to atone was to serve the Commission completely.
The more they broke him down, the more Cid rebuilt himself in defiance in spite of them.
By the time he turned fifteen, the rebellion had become open and an actual threat to the hspc. He started refusing missions outright. He threatened to use his Quirk on the trainers if they laid another hand on him. He told them flat-out that if they pushed him any further he would turn his power against them and anyone who tried to control him.
The Commission realized they had created a monster they no longer could control.
They had trained him too well. He was powerful, unpredictable, and dangerously close to turning against them entirely. One bad day, one final push, and he could become a threat to the very system they served. They reached a compromise.
They allowed him limited freedom. He could attend High School, he could live something resembling a normal life. In exchange, he had to become a hero, to allow weekly check-ins, submit to occasional evaluations, and remain under their monitoring. They still had pull. They could pressure him when they needed to.
Cid accepted the deal. It was the closest thing to freedom he had felt in years.
-flashback end-
Cid finished speaking and his voice was normal as if he had just finished telling her a story from a news article. He stared at Yui, watching her reaction unsure of what to do.
Yui hadn't interrupted once. Her hand was still gently holding his, but her face had gone pale and her other hand was covering her mouth in shock. Tears streamed silently down her cheeks, her shoulders shaking as the horror of what he had endured sank in. The thought of an eight-year-old boy being taken away, beaten under the guise of training, isolated, and psychologically broken for years made her stomach twist. She could barely imagine the pain he had carried alone for so long.
"Cid…" Her voice cracked, thick with tears. "That's… that's awful." She wiped her eyes with her free hand, but the tears kept coming. "You were just a kid…..You lost your parents and they… they tried turning you into a weapon instead of helping you."
She leaned forward, wrapping her arms around him as best she could without hurting his injuries, burying her face against his shoulder. Her body shook with quiet sobs. "I'm so sorry you had to go through all of that alone. No one should ever have to endure that."
Cid remained still for a moment, shocked still, then slowly also most robotically lifted his free hand to rest on her back, the motion awkward and tentative. He wasn't used to being comforted. He wasn't used to anyone caring enough to cry for him. It was strange but as he sat there and let her cry while holding her, he found he didn't mind it all that much.