Chapter Ten: Unbreakably Broken
The clock the wide eyed girl's gaze was glued to moved steadily; the minutes hand chugged along admirably, while the you'd miss the seconds hand if you blinked even once. Growing up the way Ayumi did, days became insignificant, and suddenly hours flew by at the snap of a finger. A few days in the hospital at her mentor's side were nothing, the girl passing the time by studying her biochemistry and simulating card game strategies to take the head of the indigo boy the next time she saw him. She found that small talk buffered the pointless thoughts from the painful ones, Ayumi basking in the melancholia her conversations with Aizawa impressed upon her. Internally, Ayumi had reached an equilibrium among two emotions, the unstable balance catalyzed by the horrors she had experienced thus far: hurt and disinterest. Back and forth, the two fought using the tortured girl's mind as a playing field, both relentless in their assault. She'd be hit by a flurry of pain, calm down, then chill out so much her tongue and words became iced over. To avoid the whiplash confronting her feelings guaranteed, Ayumi resolved to watch the clock and bug Aizawa.
Currently, Ayumi was taking part in the latter pastime, Aizawa having no trouble cramming useless conversation into her head, force feeding her small talk in large quantities.
"The sports festival is coming up," Aizawa recalled, looking through a hero equipment catalog absentmindedly.
Terms from her textbook racing through her head, it took the entirety of the concentration Ayumi had left to budget to respond simply, "Yeah."
"You're not competing, you know that right?" Inconspicuously (or so he'd like to think), the man suffocated in white lifted his gaze slightly to perceive his student's reaction, not surprised at the lack of one portrayed plainly across her features.
"Fine by me. I figured as much."
"Good. Technically, showcasing your skill and quirk is useless because I've already scouted you myself. It would be stupid to give up the element of surprise."
"Go on, captain obvious. Tell me something I don't know." Aizawa's dead eyes were met with a heavy glare, Ayumi's unintentionally withering antics managing to shake his fragile bones.
A smirk formed under his white mask, the elder shooting back at the bloodshot girl, "Don't you have somewhere to be? I bet a certain red head wouldn't be thrilled to hear you forgot about him..."
"He'll be fine. It's not like we made plans or anything." Ayumi refused to admit her fear of seeing Kirishima again, due to the fact that a majority of her flashes back to USJ revolved around him. Her mind was unwillingly stuck on his red hair and kind eyes, craving more of his good natured jokes and jabs. Dreading such dependency, Ayumi couldn't help but trick herself into repulsion of the poor boy, wishing she'd find something else to hate about her "savior" besides his lack of confidence. Methamphetamine is the most addictive stimulant drug, followed by cocaine.
A chuckle coming from her mentor's bed brought her gaze back to Aizawa's bandaged form once again. "Good thing I've already set plans for you two." At the sight of his student's growing irritation (the crumbled textbook page evidence enough), the man cockily questioned, "What? Too good for my students now?"
"I'm so glad you've become my secretary and all, truly," Ayumi began, a mocking tone conveying her true feelings, "but that won't be necessary in the future." Upon seeing Aizawa's smirk still ever present, her mocking choice of voice broke, annoyance prominent as the brunette lashed, "That's my way of telling you to butt out, boss."
"Butt out of what?" Are you kidding me? Ayumi's facade scrambled to contain her elation at the sight of Kirishima, clothed in the provided UA track suit.
The wide eyed girl rid any indication of joy or surprise at the sight of the red head, forcing a stoic frown onto her face defensively. Refusing to spare the boy a glance, she blandly claimed, "Nothing that concerns you."
Undiscouraged, Kirishima enthusiastically exclaimed, "Okay then! Let's get going, yeah?"
As much as Ayumi detested the undesirable situation Aizawa had orchestrated, the sickly looking girl wouldn't plead or try to bargain her way out of the training. Despite the mismatched and haphazardly nature to her appearance, Ayumi knew begging looked even worse on her. Thus, she complied, curtly taking her leave to suit up.
The men left in the room perceived Ayumi's actions in two completely different lights: the one in bandages admired her indifference regardless of her personal feelings, while the one with shark teeth was baffled by her cryptic ways, but that was nothing new.
—
An unlikely pair stood at a distance from each other, duel style. Their backs were turned to the other, one determined, one dulled.
3...2...1...GO!
Kirishima's wild smile grew, the energetic boy flipping around hastily as he declared, "Give me all you've got, Ayumi!" Her grunt in response was characteristic, the brunette made sure of it.
And so, the two went at it. Kirishima took initiative of the spar, being the primary attacker, while Ayumi parried or blocked each hit. Her bruised skin was cursed with abrasions Kirishima's hardened skin delivered. Each impact felt like rock slide hit her, the heavy punches doing their job right. Horrifyingly, Ayumi couldn't bring herself to counter. Her mind was boggled as to why her body wouldn't communicate, but the answer was simple: her heart controlled her body the way her mind held her tongue captive. The girl with the bloodshot eyes would in theory incapacitate her partner with ease, however, her heart couldn't let go of the boy who carried her out of USJ, feeling guilty that she was useless to him. Consequently, as Ayumi battled Kirishima, she was also locked in a death match between her heart and mind.
Ayumi had spaced out completely, leaving her wide open. Kirishima stopped himself before he landed a solid right hook, his gentlemanly nature gifting him with restraint. "Ayumi! Are you even trying?" Hurt washed over the Kirishima's features, the red head managing to look a little blue. "How come you haven't hit me with your quirk? And, please, for the both of us, don't say it's strategy or something."
Hesitation. The preoccupied girl couldn't think of an excuse over her unwillingness to confide, all alarms sounding in her jam packed head. Her shaking right hand flew to her snake bites, Ayumi for the first time lacking a quip or jeer to take the light off of her. "I-I-"
"What's wrong then? I promise, I won't judge," Kirishima assured her, softening his skin back to its normal texture. He stepped up, putting an arm to her shoulder. Ayumi hated the fact that an action that should've been comforting, that should've coerced her into alleviating some of her tension, only served to put the girl more on edge. The green skinned girl became rigid at the shark toothed boy's touch, unsure of how to save herself. Of course, Kirishima didn't notice, the oblivious boy's sole focus being the way Ayumi played with her lip rings skittishly. "It wouldn't be manly of me to judge you, Ayumi."
The soothing words caused the guarded brunette to snap, as she recoiled severely from his words and touch. She backed up, a faux look of stoicism planted on her features, as she castigated the boy: "You just can't handle my quirk! You're hardening can't do anything against it, and there's nothing you can change about it. Look, I'm sorry, but I don't think this is gonna work out with us. I don't want to hurt you because you made a mistake in battle." Silence, but the damage was clear. I...I just preyed on the one thing he's insecure about. Regret filled every cavity of Ayumi's being, her mind unable to justify its uncalled for low blow. If she had just been protecting herself, she could've ignored the boy or lied completely, yet the half truth she spit out was clearly aimed to hurt. Damn it, why do I always do this?
Kirishima's concerned expression glossed over into somewhat of a grim smile. He turned his back, admitting quietly as he walked away, "I knew that." The once fiery boy's spark had been exhausted into smoke and ash, his step lacking its usual pep as he exited the training grounds glumly. With the boy gone, Ayumi found she still couldn't breathe, the wide eyed girl managing to continue drowning in the thoughts she used to tread.
As usual, Ayumi isolated her self in the dust of others. She deserved it, after all.
—
The classroom's endless chatter was almost louder than Ayumi's thoughts, the brunette attempting to block both out simultaneously. But, it seemed her wide eyes, although a bloody red around the dark irises, invited unwanted conversation.
"Bubaigawara! Aren't you excited for the sports festival?"
"You're so strong, you'd probably do really well!"
"What you did with Recovery Girl was sick!"
The female population of the class surrounded Ayumi's desk, no openings for a getaway allowed. The brunette's eyes darted around the room, searching for an escape from the overwhelming estrogen she was becoming enveloped in, catching a certain red head's eye unintentionally. They shared a brief look, before Kirishima turned away to his conversation with some guys from the class. What should've been just a moment of discomfort blossomed into (what felt like) an eternity of it, Ayumi lacking any sort of escape from the girls' onslaught of excitement and praise.
"Uh, guys? Maybe we should give Ayumi some space." The frog girl Ayumi had worked closely with during the USJ incident approached the girls surrounding Ayumi's desk, slight worry etched onto her features.
"What?! Tsu, you're already on first name basis with Bubaigawara?!" exclaimed a girl who'd appeared to have been dunked in a bucket of pink paint prior to class. Her looks embodied her personality perfectly: loud. Yellow eyes with black sclera, horns, complete with pink pigmented skin and hair - the girl was an eye catcher in more ways than one. "She doesn't talk to anyone!"
"Mina! That's rude!" interjected the tall girl with good posture. Ayumi couldn't put her finger on it, but there was something posh, almost delicate about her that gave off an air of high status with high power.
"What? Just stating the facts."
"Anyways!" a fellow brunette quickly declared, moving the painfully awkward conversation along. "Bubaigawara if you ever want to-"
"Actually, it's Ayumi. Um...she's not special or anything," Ayumi stoically interrupted the conversation which danced around her, beginning to move out of her seat. The two girls bathed in green avoided each other's gaze, neither wanting to be reminded of what went down at USJ. Asui didn't want to draw a line in the sand, but she couldn't bring herself to stand idly by and just let Ayumi continue to hurt herself. Ayumi wasn't reciprocating such friendly sentiments, though, so Asui couldn't do anything to help her at the moment.
The bruised brunette imagined shuffling out of the classroom, desperately needing a cup of coffee and a game of cards. Ayumi was a guest of honor and simultaneously an unwanted entity within the circle of girls. The sickly girl was too sick minded for the others, her bruised body and mind unsuitable for a regular school life. She sat in the back of the class, a mere outsider in a tight knit group that was oblivious to its lack of inclusivity. Pushing herself up from her chair, Ayumi mumbled to no one in particular, "I have to go."
Kirishima, meanwhile, watched the whole debacle go down, Ayumi's defensive distancing kicking in at record time. Sure, his steaming thoughts were steeped in bitterness, but Kirishima couldn't deny the truth in Ayumi's choice of such strongly flavored words. He needed to be stronger, stronger for the class, stronger for his family, stronger for himself.
He needed to be stronger if he wanted to catch her.
"Oi, Kirishima! Got your eye on the new girl? I hear she's a feisty one!" teased Kaminari, one of the guys Kirishima had grown closer to during their short time at UA. "She's as cold as Todoroki!"
A look of annoyance crossed the usually cheerful boy's features, as he protested, "Cut it out, dude. It's unmanly to gossip about a classmate."
"Oh come on! You can't tell me you've never thought of taking her out!" As Kaminari babbled one, he was left in the dust by his companion, Kirishima eyeing Ayumi with a vigor she hadn't seen in him before. The red head caught her at the door, Ayumi shocked to find his eyes kind and open to her once again. "Man, are you even listening?"
The red head give his blond counterpart a quick pat on the shoulder, quickly telling him, "Sorry man! Got something I have to take care of!"
Kirishima ran up to Ayumi, who almost seemed alarmed at his presence. He pulled her outside, the two's gazes never leaving the other, yet somehow they just couldn't see eye to eye. The halls' silence was deafeaning, the two only having the other to look at. No expressions, no body language, just red eyes hitting bloodshot ones.
"Look, Kirishima, I-"
"I don't blame you, Ayumi. It's the truth, and you said it."
"Stop. Don't forgive me, please don't. I think it's better we just-"
"We just what? People can't stay 'afraid' of you. If you want their trust-"
"I don't need theirs...Hold out your hand."
"What?"
"You heard me."
Cautiously, Kirishima stuck his hand out, a bridge between the gap they had created. Ayumi stepped forward, gingerly taking the tanned boy's hand in her own. Ayumi concentrated, turning the sparks Kirishima felt in his hand into a wildfire, a feeling of euphoric power coursing through his vessels. In a spontaneous manner, his hand hardened, its appearance far beyond recognition as the skin had surpassed its normal levels. The red head's uniform sleeve had been ripped to shreds, Kirishima's usual texture incapable of such a feat. His hand was sharper, harder, and lighter than before, a look of amazement on his features. Quickly, however, his limb reverted back to its normal state, the cracks softening over once again.
Ayumi's hand flew to her snake bites, as if forcibly holding back the unintentionally venomous words she didn't mean the last time. Averting her gaze to the floor, she softly explained, "Kirishima, with me, you're unbreakable. I'm the only one who can break you, and you're the only one I'd let break me." The bloodshot girl took a heavy breath in before continuing. "The other day. I was stressed just with everything going on right now. But please, promise me you won't let anyone's words affect you like that."
Guilt was ingrained on the red head's features. "But Ayumi! That isn't my power, it's yours. I don't want your power to be the only reason why mine is strong!"
"No. Kirishima, you're strong because you have a solid heart. It's unbreakable. What I did to bring out your potential was just amplifying the stimulants your quirk produces to harden your skin." Kirishima's lost expression prompted her to further explain, "You have the power to do it on your own. Think of it as a preview. I can help get you there."
Although the brunette wasn't smiling, Kirishima felt at ease when glancing at her normal image, the same scowl ridden with stoicism and haunting melancholia bringing a strange sense of comfort upon the red head. His confidence skyrocketed knowing he had the sickly girl in his corner, shark teeth making their appearance as he flashed a large smile.
Ayumi turned to her partner, invading his personal space to cup her hand around his ear. The boy, who had flushed to a shade similar to his hair color, heard the girl whisper, "And I know your hair's fake, hotshot." And then she was off, the sickly girl vanishing to wherever she pleased, leaving Kirishima dumbfounded in her dust.
He cracked a smile at her cracked joke, both not needing to meet the other's gaze to understand their shared feelings.
—
Cracked skin, cracked morals, but an uncracked vial he swirled in his hand, spinning the red liquid at a sickening pace. The liquid was thick and laden with thousands of chemicals and molecules normally too toxic for the body to sustain. On the monster of a man's right stood another, his body and motives obscured by a purple cloud of dark matter, polishing dishes peacefully.
"Shigaraki Tomura, what is your next move?"
"Find the girl. With her, we'll be unbreakable."