Al Dente

The deeper and darker the despair...the brighter and powerful the hope born from it.

Nobody would listen to him, but I knew he was completely right. After all, he was the exact opposite of my despair.

My hope.

My name is Kiko Daishu, I’m the ultimate psychiatrist. If you’re reading this, it means hope prevailed, and I am dead, it was my will that my son, the next ultimate hope, release these writings to the public when I die. This is a story about overcoming despair, how I… no, how we did it, and what I’ve learned.

A young boy stood by his father as he threw a woman’s corpse into a den of pigs. The boy tried to cover his eyes as tears welled up in them at the sight of the pigs eating at the flesh of the corpse, but the father smacked his hands away.

“No, watch it kid! This is important! This is what you do with dead bodies when you can’t get any acid. They’ll even eat the bones, you can’t perform an autopsy on pig shit!”

The dad laughed as the kid felt bile build up in his throat. It came splashing out of his mouth into the dirt.

“God dammit Beau, that’s leaving evidence! They can get your DNA from throw up, you know!”

The father pushed the child down so they were face first in their own vomit.

“But daddy, I didn’t kill anyone! I don’t wanna hurt people!”

“Eat it.”

“...What?”

“EAT IT YOU DUMB SHIT”

The father forced his kids head down into his own vomit with his boot as he licked it up out of the mud. This was a normal occurrence for the Arsenault family, after all, his father was the ultimate serial killer. He had his sights on his son becoming his successor, so he knew everything there was to know about murder, the human body, how to avoid and trick law enforcement. It caused him true despair.

But Beau didn’t want this life no, they wanted to be artsy. They so many times tried to make and perform things to win their father’s approval but it only resulted in harsh words and beatings. When his dad got a new wife, and he had a little sister, they couldn’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy. They got to do ballet, they got to wear pink, makeup, and flowy dresses. They got to be a girl. The older Beau got, the more they hated their male body, even when he saw the female victims of his father, he wished he were them. They wanted big breasts, curvy hips, full lips, soft skin, big gorgeous eyes with long lashes and thin effeminate legs, they wanted to be small and protected by a gentle prince. One with flowing hair and soft eyes and a bright smile, not too muscular either, she wanted a tall thin man, most importantly: he had to be smart, and kind.

As I grew older I began to grow more pessimistic and apathetic. I gave up on my dreams, instead, I opted to study why my dad was so fucked up. Because of him not only did I develop Narcissistic personality disorder, but my little sister developed Borderline personality disorder, eventually my focus became helping her. It’s not like our mom, if we could even call her that was any help. She was a fucking drunk, all she cared about was my old man, and how he killed her ex lover for her and it was romantic. There was nothing romantic about what the bastard did, that man was simply in the way of what he wanted so he took him out like an angry child throwing a fit. My father was a psychopath if there ever was one. Not that all psychopaths are bad, but, I think being a psychopath makes it far easier to kill, at that point it’s a choice to be good or not, my father chose to be bad. That was when it happened.

Red and blue lights were swarming the house as men in black uniforms broke the phone call, responding to the 112 call from Beau, describing what they had witnessed as their younger sister, Sylvie, sobbed in their arms. Ah yes, Sylvie Arsenault: The Ultimate Ballet Dancer. Undoubtedly mom’s favorite, their dad however hated her. Beau was ultimately surprised their dad hadn’t killed them too. After all, they were both right there when…

“I need you to tell me what happened.”

The 112 operator spoke through the phone as they heard the sobs of the siblings, having to stay composed as they did everyday.

“My dad he… he hit our mom with a whiskey bottle, it broke and she fell to the floor and then, there was blood and he started beating her face into the glass on the floor… then…”

The loud sound of a gunshot echoed through the house, followed by a thump on the floorboards.

“They… They’re both dead!”

After that day, it was just me and Sylvie, most people don’t believe we’re sisters, Me being so tall now, 6’5 and lanky, except for my gross gut. She was muscular and a whole foot shorter, her skin was warm and rosy in comparison to my cold pale skin, her bright, silverish blue eyes and my dark green ones, the only thing we shared was our freckles, though I hated mine, that was… until my hope called them cute. I inherited my dad’s entire will, even though I was only 11, all his riches, weapons, mine. He was like Jack the Ripper, the police didn’t even know he was the rumored Slaughter Man. Still, if it were ever found out that I was the daughter of the political murderer I’d have a target on my back indefinitely. I had to leave, but Sylvie had no one else, no where else to go. So, I took her with me when I got on a plane to Japan, and changed our names, I became known as Kiko Daishu. She insisted on keeping her first name, but legally, we did change her last name to Daishu as well. sometimes I still wonder if I made the right choice.

Being as we were kids, we couldn’t exactly buy a house. But I was scouted by Hope’s Peak Secondary School program for my talent as the ultimate psychiatrist, I had been researching every person I met after all, I was even in the newspaper after talking down a suicidal person who was going to jump off a bridge. It was easy really, suicidal people usually think they’re doing the world a favor by leaving, you just have to convince them otherwise, that someone or something is better off with them around. It’s only a short term fix but, if they get treatment like I suggested it was the first day in recovery, right? I had countless journals of my writings on what I’ve found about the human mind, how they react to stimuli, how to manipulate them. That was my second mistake.

During my second year in secondary school my little sister was in her first year. We were having lunch together as we always did, but she was sick. I kept getting her food but she couldn’t keep anything down, I was doing everything I could to help, but another classmate noticed, a girl with silver hair and a mask followed in the bathroom after us.

“Excuse me, is your friend sick?”

The girl asked,

“Uh, yeah she is…”

Kiko had uttered in response, how dare they bother her when she was clearly busy.

“My name is Seiko Kimura, I’m the ultimate Pharmacist, I have some medicine if you could tell me her symptoms, I’d love to be helpful.”

She introduced herself.

“I see, well, as you can see she’s throwing up like a pregnant woman, she also has a sore throat, a headache, and congestion, what do you have for that?”

Kiko glanced back at her, maybe she wouldn’t be entirely useless. To Kiko’s surprise and pleasure, the girl nodded. Seiko handed her a tube of liquid, Kiko snatched it and made Sylvie drink it.

“Keep it down for once, it’s for your own good.”

Kiko told Sylvie, putting her hand up against her mouth to hold her head up and back to make sure she couldn’t puke.

“You know, that’s quite a useful talent you have uh… Seiko-Chan, you’re much friendlier than the others here too. Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Kiko Daishu, the ultimate psychiatrist; and pukie over here, is Sylvie, the ultimate ballet dancer, I think we’d get along well as partners don’t you agree? Or what do you other kids call it… friends?”

Kiko cocked a brow as she stepped closer to Seiko.

“You’d really want to be my friend?”

Seiko asked as she looked up at the much taller student.

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re far above the others, that’s what you just proved to me anyway. Besides, you helped me and my sister when no one else would. Since I unfortunately look like a boy, the other kids don’t really like that I insist on wearing the girl’s uniform, some have even accused me of being a pervert, can you believe that?”

Before Seiko could respond to Kiko’s words another two students suddenly and quite forcefully, pushed the door open.

Who had barged in was a girl with strawberry blonde hair and a fur trim on her uniform, alongside a tall boy with a much cooler shade of blonde hair. Kiko immediately got bad vibes from them, as Seiko seemed… nervous when they arrived.

“Seiko what are you doing with them? You do remember what I asked you for don’t you?”

Ruruka asked, tensing up in what appeared as irritation.

“Excuse me, are you Seiko’s friends?”

Kiko spoke up abruptly with a completely collected small smile and cold eyes, putting an arm around the silver-haired girl. This new girl glared at them both with venom.

“Yes, we are, I’m Ruruka Ando, and this is Inazoi Sonosuke.”

“I see. A pleasure, I am Kiko Daishu, that is my sister Sylvie, I too am Seiko’s friend. She was just helping us, she has every right to do as she pleases, you understand that yes? It wouldn’t be very friendly of you to pressure her into doing what you want, correct?”

Kiko questioned straight faced.

“Whatever, it’s fine. Seiko you can hang out with the shemale all you want! See you later. Oh, here, have a treat.”

Ruruka tried to give Kiko a candy, however, she refused.

“I hate sweets, but thank you anyway.”

Kiko pushed it back. Receiving yet another glare before the group departed.

“Thank you but… why did you do that?”

Seiko asked.

“She gives me bad vibes, she talked to you as if you were property, with me around, you don’t have to worry about people messing with you like that.”

Kiko offered a small closed smile.

From that day on, me and Seiko were best friends, it felt nice to have a companion who wasn’t my sister for once, Sylvie however wasn’t happy. I can’t believe it took me so long to fully understand why.

What kind of Psychiatrist am I