~Authour's Note~
Remember that time I said I was gonna upload every Friday? Ha. That was funny. I mean, that's still the goal but don't be too upset if it doesn't make its way on here till Sunday. Also, Im going to include bits of dialogue in other languages in here, mostly Japanese and Mexican Spanish, but if I make a mistake in another language, feel free to educate me on how I can fix it. I just feel like it gives the reader a clear sign that a character isn't speaking English if it isn't explicitly pointed out. Anyways, enjoy chapter 3!
"Okay. In my defense, he was nice to me so I took that as an invitation to try to get closer to him. Was I wrong? YOU'RE GONNA LOOK AT ME AND TELL ME IM WRONG?!"
I aggressively stirred my pancake batter trying to get rid of the clumps. "A cute, sleepy eyed pro hero talks to you and offers to walk you home TWICE? I mean, come ON Ceb! You can't just move on from that. The dude protected me from glass! GLASS!"
Cerberus stared at me, tongue out, tail wagging, far more interested in the fact that he might get some food than my justifications of stalking this innocent man on the internet.
"I know you think it's a complicated situation and that I might be reading too much into it," I conceded, pouring batter onto a skillet. "But I mean, he patrols the area. I very well could run into him again."
Days had passed since our boba tea/ villain encounter. I hadn't seen him since, but that vague news article continued to bother me. To my knowledge, the pros get paid very similar to the ones in the US. The more exposure he gets, the more the government is willing to pay him, so any article or story ran is an opportunity, especially with your ranking in the Japanese Hero Billboard charts.
What person doesn't want a little more cash in their pocket?
I turned off the stove and plopped my stack of 5 pancakes on a plate with strawberry jam. Ceb got a plain pancake and was enjoying it thoroughly as he tore it up all over the floor.
It was my first day off in 9 days and I was going to be lazy. Sleeping in till 11 was heavenly and getting to make my breakfast and not scarf it down in 7 minutes was beautiful. I scrolled through the clock app for about an hour, slowly munching on my brunch before deciding to take the kid on a walk.
I didn't bother with makeup or brush my hair, just putting on my Mexican jacket and a beanie. Passing the mirror though, I realized I looked a little more . . . homeless than desired, and forced the tangled curly mess in a braid.
Ceb lost his little mind at the sight of the leash in my hand, spinning and hopping. It would've been quite cute if his giant wagging tail wasn't causing mass destruction in its wake.
We left the apartment and slowly made our way into town towards an empty park where I would end up playing fetch several hundred times.
The fresh air felt great even though it was a brisk 40º. The forecast earlier said we actually might get our first snow of the year later that night and I thought I might sit outside and watch it with a cup of that Abuela's chocolate. As we got to the park, I unclipped Ceb from his leash and he bolted, knowing I'd pitch it far. Throwing the ball warmed me up just enough and when the breeze came through, ugh. Magical.
Getting to use my quirk freely was also very liberating. My mother had the luxury of being able to use her quirk all the time without people knowing, even my dad! But nOoo. My eyes had to glow and tip off any cop in the vicinity. Stupid laws.
But feeling my arm move on it's own, the chance to recall skills I've had since childhood. It was like taking a bra off after a long day. Ultimately, I still got tired, especially if I was very out of shape. Seeing Cerberus and how much energy he had, I knew would take a while for him to get tired, so I settled in for pitching the ball for at least 30 minutes.
But of course, it didn't go that way.
"That's a unique jacket. I don't think I've seen anyone with anything like it-".
"AYE QUÉ LA-" I jumped dramatically and turned only to see the one and only, Eraserhead, leaning on the fence to talk to me.
You. Absolute. MORON, I yelled internally at myself. Did you even brush your teeth? Put on deodorant? Idiot.
"Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you," he apologized, frowning a bit. "I was intrigued by your jacket then realized it was you."
I adjusted my beanie nervously. "Nah, nah. It's chill. Crazy to run into you again! You working right now?" My armpits began to pour sweat on command.
"No. Not really. But I'm running a few errands. You alright though? That night, I hope you didn't get hurt too bad."
I started rolling up my sleeves. "Nope. Just some scratching. I've gotten a lot worse from surfing or skateboarding so it's fine. I was honestly more worried about you. Were you okay?"
He shrugged. "Yeah. I was fine. Had to get a few stitches. Not a big deal."
"Good. I was concerned. But you seem like you know what you're doing. I tried to see if your name came up on the local report of the incident but I didn't see you mentioned."
He nodded. "I try to stay out of the media as much as possible. I don't need the general public knowing my business. And you know how reporters can exaggerate." Eraser stared at Cerberus who came up to him, sniffing all around him.
"Oh! He's very friendly. I spent a lot of time training him. You can pet him," I encouraged.
He bent down and let Ceb sniff his hand. A bond quickly formed and my fluff ball was getting all the pets he desired from the pro.
"Anyways," he continued. "I became a hero to help people. To do what I can for those who need saving. I want to be as genuine as I can to the feelings I had when I was younger, so fame and fans and all of that, it just seems distracting."
I listened attentively, his words hitting a sore spot on my heart.
Being genuine to the feelings of his younger self.
I wondered what that felt like.
So much had happened in almost 5 years, thinking back to a younger Persephone, her dreams and aspirations, it was like looking at a different person.
"May I throw his ball a bit," Eraserhead asked, pulling me from my thoughts.
"Yes of course", I said enthusiastically. "The farther you can throw it the better. Also, please feel free to speak informally to me."
He smiled lightly. "Sure."
Watching him play with Ceb, I zoned out again. Fourteen year old Percy continued to occupy my thoughts. She had so much hope. A bright future with any and every path open to her, parents who loved and supported her, going to bed every night feeling loved and safe.
How quickly that all ended.
After years of just trying to survive, little Percy's goals changed from becoming a hero who saves people alongside her family, to making sure to find food the following day. Finding a spot to spend the night that was hidden away, far from anyone who could disturb her. Praying constantly that she wasn't discovered and killed by the same people who took away her family. Or worse, sent back to Norway, with that horrific man.
But now, as a fledgling adult, I realized I had no goals. There were no dreams spurring me on. Heck I didn't know what next month was going to look like, let alone 5, 10 years into the future. I couldn't see it. I couldn't feel it. I was still in survival mode. It was a sobering thought that with my mental health. . . just surviving wasn't going to be enough to keep me alive in the long run.
And this was why I never spoke to people. Of course, I had enough issues and trauma to make any psych question if they chose the right proffession. Always keeping to myself, never forming anything but superficial relationships, those safeguards kept me from thinking. It helped the façade I had created, that everything was fine, that I wasn't burning from the inside out.
That I wasn't still wandering through the flames of the fire that destroyed everything.
As I watched Eraser throw the ball, something flickered behind him, almost like a person. I did a double take but nothing was there. I kept staring, about to write it off as a mild hallucination or something, but then I saw it again.
My eyes widened. My mouth went dry. I saw him. Standing there, clear as day. His wavy dark brown hair that fell in front of his soft grey eyes, the same that he would let me practice my braids on. That dark green and yellow uniform that my mother meticulously mended and cleaned.
Papa?
The man smiled warmly. 'Never stop dreaming míja', he signed. 'Dreams keep us alive.'
A memory…playing out in front of me? I mean, I remembered him telling me this, but why was he manifesting here? Now? Is this an unknown effect of my quirk?
I hesitantly took a step forward.
And then he was gone.
Tears sprang to my eyes and I furiously tried to wipe them with the scratchy material of my jacket, but I could tell it wasn't going to let up.
"Hey, Eraserhead, I'm so sorry," I called out, trying to hide my phlegmy voice, "but I think I have to go home. I, uh, forgot to take my allergy meds, and man, are they bad right now," I said with a nervous laugh.
"Oh. Sure.'' I could tell he was a little thrown off. He gave me back Cerberus ball. "I should probably get going too. Take care."
He bowed and walked away slowly.
Stupid memories.
I tried to get home as fast as I could, Cerberus confused as we ended our little outing early.
My past. My family. The less I thought of them, the better.
As soon as we got through the door, I ran to take some meds that keep my anxiety at bay. They normally helped me relax, but this one memory, it refused to stay locked up.
So I sat down in my reading chair, leaned back and closed my eyes, Ceb following suit and laying in my lap to doze off. After a shaky breath, I unlocked the memory, letting what ever my brain was trying to tell me play out.
Years later, reflecting on the choices I made and paths I carved out for myself, it was this moment, reliving this one memory, that gave me the courage to stop survivng, and live.
•••
••
•
Five Years Before
It was chilly that morning, despite it being August. Mama had opened the window the night before to let the cool air in. The pink sunlight and light breeze shifted through my curtains as the day began. I stretched and bolted up, unusually awake for the morning.
But it was a special day.
The night before, I could barely sleep from excitement. Something like that hadn't keep me up since I was 12. It had been the morning we flew out to New York. Mama had a some lectures to give and we made a family trip out of it.
I put on some shorts and my favourite striped t-shirt, pairing it with some boots and a fuzzy sweater. By the time I had washed up, did my hair and put on some mascara, it was only 7 and my mama had barely gotten up.
"Lillemor, what are you doing up this early," she asked a little bewildered. I turned around from making myself tea.
She was so beautiful. Her light milk tea skin, the heart shaped blush patches on her cheeks, the same ones I had. Her short white hair, messy and soft. My mom's morning look was so cozy, so different from the look she normally had as the famed professor, Dr. Sørenson.
"Morgen mama," I greeted softly, since my papa was still asleep. "Like you always say, som plommen i egget! Remember, papa is taking me to the school today to get me registered," I said excitedly.
"That right," she said yawning, making her way over to give me my morning kiss on my forehead. "Just remember. You have to keep him busy until 2, okay?"
"Right!"
That day was also my Papa's birthday. We were having a surprise party at his agency and everyone was going to arrive at 1:50. It was my job to keep him occupied for the couple of hours after registering.
I sat with my mama on the couch as we drank our hot drinks, leaning on her as she watched some TV. The smell of her perfume. The fabric of her favorite pj's. Even how her skin felt as I relaxed against her arm. Sometimes I thought even without my quirk, I'd remember those things forever.
I hadn't realized that I dozed off until my papa came over and gently shook my shoulder.
"Oh man! I hadn't realized I fell asleep. Feliz cumpleaños papa," I said tiredly.
He smiled softly and patted my head. 'That's okay mí amor. Thank you. Mama had to leave for work already but she didn't want to wake you up,' he signed. 'I was thinking we should go get breakfast at 'Las Casuelas' before we go to your new school, yeah?'
"Do they have menudo today?"
'No silly. It's Tuesday. Only on the weekends. But you can still get a different caldo if that's what you want.'
"Ughhh. That's such a dumb rule. But okay."
He laughed and started getting the paperwork he needed for my registration together. I kissed my bunny, Chato, before I left and we were out the door by 9.
Las Casuelas was my papas favorite place to go and he honestly didn't need an excuse like his birthday to go there, but him being excited to go always made me excited.
The hostess did the most by making a fuss over how big I'd gotten like usual, even though we'd been here less than 3 weeks before. They brought him over a pot of coffee and my hot chocolate without having to ask.
I was left to my own devices as my Papa went to the back to talk to the staff, many he'd known since he came to town when he was a teenager. I did the usual and stared at the art work and enjoyed the music as I ate my chips and salsa. When he eventually came back to sit down he told me any updates from the back that he got.
He was the local hero, the kid who made it out of the slums and made a life for himself. The one who never forgot where he came from and the people who helped him along the way.
When the server brought the food out, everyone else came out to sing for him, long thin candles sticking out of his chiliquiles. His smile, the tears that came up, the aggressive kisses and bear hugs, everyone taking pictures, I soaked it all in.
I still dream about that place and wonder about them. All the people who loved and supported my family. Who learned sign language so they could communicate with my papa. They truly had a special place in my heart.
We left extra full from breakfast and some flan they surprised us with and drove off to the school, nestled 20 minutes outside the city.
Southern California Academy of Heroes. SCAH.
One of the top 5 schools in the U.S. for fledgling pro heroes.
There was a general test needed to get in, one that was allegedly really hard to pass, but because of my educational background, and parents, I was immediately accepted. It felt weird but my papa said I had earned that spot with my hard work, and it wasn't a free pass they were giving me.
The vice principal greeted us at the front of the building, a balding white man who didn't seem very unique. He explained how he was so excited to have the pro hero Silencio, an alumni, come back to bring his daughter to their school. I found out later how this wasn't the same principal my papa had when he went there and he too thought he was a funny looking man.
I interpreted as my papa spoke to the principal about this and that and statistics and what not, only half paying attention as I marveled at everything. The giant doors and windows, the extensive training grounds, the labs for Support students. I wanted to try it all.
The years I spent since I was 3, going to school, going to college, taking tests, learning subject after subject, sure. It was kinda fun, but this…It felt like my heart was going to leap out of my chest. In four years I could be working alongside my papa and tío. We could be like the Bat family! I could be Robin!
My papa noticed how distracted I was after a while and gave me permission to look around as he used an app to communicate.
So then I wandered off, bursting with energy, thinking, most sacrilegiously, that this was far better than Disneyland.
•••
••
•
I finally stopped the memory, my face wet from tears, Ceb happily licking them away.
The sights. The smells. Seeing my father right in front of me after such a long time. Remembering my mother. It was all too much.
It had been years since I really thought about them. Since I let myself feel what I felt when I was at my happiest.
The rush of having my dream with in my grasp, seeing it all again, I realized my feelings hadn't changed. With all the knowledge of several different fields of study tucked neatly away in my brain, I still wanted that simple dream.
To be a hero.
To be someone as happy and loving as my father and save those in need.
To feel the rush and adrenaline of a fight that actually means something.
For the first time in years, since that day, I felt the resolve again. And I wasn't going to let it go.
(The same day, at a hospital in Busan, South Korea)
"Cant you drive any faster Hae Soo-ah," an old woman complained from the back seat.
The driver, the old woman's daughter, groaned. "Eomma, you ask me that again, I'm going to check you in when we get there, okay?!"
Hae Soo drove as fast as she could, barely paying attention to road signs or red lights. Her elderly mother continued to complain, but she blocked it out, gripping the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white.
How could she not be there when he woke up? She promised him! She knew it was a promise that she couldn't possibly keep, but with how often she visited her nephew in the hospital, she had hoped that she would have made good on that promise.
Hae Soo, her brother, and mother had waited for the day that Ji Seok would wake up. The doctors told them to have hope, but with each passing year, it was harder to hold on too.
And how would she tell him? How could she bear to tell him that not only had he been asleep for years but that his mother and father, his aunt and uncle, his two little brothers. . . they were gone. His cousin was alive, somewhere, but that was his only consolation.
She kept berating herself. Letting him wake up in a foreign place, all by himself, all alone. Stupid.
Hae Soo pulled in to the visitor center parking garage and for a brief moment considered carrying her mother into the building so she didn't slow them down.
"Idiot! Don't worry about me," her mother scolded, reading her mind. "Leave me the keys and go! He's been by himself long enough! I'll catch up."
She didn't hesitate, throwing the keys in the back and bolted for the wing her nephew was staying in.
The nurses who were waiting anxiously for her to arrive, immediately took her back to the room, briefing her on all that had happened in the 40 minutes he had been awake.
She tried to calm down her breathing but still entered his room huffing and puffing.
"Ji Seok ah? Do you remember me? I'm your auntie. I'm Ha Jin's younger sister."
The emaciated 23 year old stared blankly at his aunt that he hadn't seen since he was 14 and blinked. The nurses propped him up on some pillows so he could sit up.
She walked closer. "I know this is really confusing, but you are in a hospital in Busan, in Korea. I'm sorry I wasn't here when you woke up. You must have so many questions." Her voice was steady and soft. She tried reading him but he still looked at her with emptiness, his normally bright hazel eyes dull and lifeless. She sat on his bed and touched the side of his cheek.
"I'm so happy you are awake," Hae-so sqeaked out with a thick voice.
"Where are they," he asked hoarsely in English.
She just stared. She understood, and had thought this moment over hundreds of times and yet, Hae Soo still didn't know what to do.
"Where are my parents? Where are Pepe and Bo?". His face was still, but his eyes began to water and his voice shook. "They are here right? They are in another room? Or maybe . . .they are trying to get here now?"
Tears streamed down his aunts face. "On August 2nd, 2—, your uncles agency was attacked….I'm so sorry baby, but….you were the only one who made it."
Ji Seoks face quickly changed, contorting in pain. His aunt quickly grabbed him and held him tight.
His grandmother made her way towards the room, seeing the nurses solemnly standing nearby. One was even crying. The hoarse sobs of pain and despair coming from her grandson echoing around the wing.
She frowned and took a deep breath.
If only we knew where that damned cousin of his went, she thought bitterly. Then maybe we could've eased his pain. Just a little bit.
~Authour's Note~
Hernan Fiel Guerrera
(Deceased)
Pro Name: Silencio
Quirk: Silence- Born mute, anything he touches, living or inanimate, he can silence for a time. He also is incapable of making any sounds with his body.
Age (at death): 38
Hobbies: Surfing and Cooking
Dislikes: Snow
Thanks for reading! Catch ya next week! Don't forget to follow and favourite to get notifications when my ADHD allows me to post! Stay safe,
I.N.