a/n: Happy Sunday, friends. You got Hemza yesterday and today you get Darian. What a fun time this is. Clearly this chapter is a reward - a celebration of hitting another milestone here. I've said it a million times, but thank you. Enjoy Origins of Nothing Pt. 2 & please let me know what you think. 3
Her mother and father were high school sweethearts and had met in her mothers first year at UA. Her mother had been in general studies, alongside her aunt Sakura. The two had struck up some sort of friendship, with the elder girl eventually introducing her new friend to her older brother, Hisato. Hisato had been infatuated with Mara from their first meeting, her red hair a stark contrast to his dark.
The way her father told it was that he tried desperately to win her mothers affections for months, bringing her flowers and snacks to class almost every day. He'd had his sister help him learn to make bento, something he knew she would love to get as a foreign student. He learned her favourite flowers and songs and activities, studied up on the fiery redhead in General Studies before asking her on a date. Her mother had said no, in the beginning. Hisato told his daughter it had taken several tries to convince his now wife to go on a date with him.
Mara, however, told the story differently. She said that Hisato was incredibly awkward - almost painfully so. His face would burn red anytime she was around, and he couldn't seem to converse with her like a normal person. She told her daughter that she'd sent letters home to her father, telling him all about the strange Japanese boy who couldn't look her in the eye. She claimed to have been flirting with him for months - much to Sakura's dismay. She said she brought him American snacks that her father had sent her, and she said that she said yes the very first time Hisato had managed to ask her out.
These stories were told at almost every family dinner, while her mother and father and aunt crowded around the dinner table in the house. Sakura laughed and teased her older brother and sister in law, because she remembered it differently than they both did.
Tonight was no exception. Shoto sat beside Emiko, his hand resting gently on her knee. Her parents sat across from them in their living room, bickering animatedly. Sakura rested on the arm of the couch beside her niece, laughing at the scene in front of her.
Hisato was tickling her mother mercilessly, causing her mothers vibrant hair to fan out wildly across the couch. Mara was laughing wildly, teeth glittering in the overhead lights. The sight made Emiko's heart ache. She couldn't wait for a future where she and Shoto could do that in front of their children.
"I think we'll have a boy and a girl," She sighed, resting her head against his chest.
"Yeah?" she could hear the smile in his voice at the admission.
"Yeah." She answered, her eyes threatening to tear up at the idea. "I think you'd be a great dad to a little girl."
"And a little boy?" He finished for her, pressing his lips to her forehead.
"And a little boy." She answered, letting her eyes drift slowly shut to the sound of his heart beating softly.
"God, 'sato." Sakura laughed, leaning forwards slightly. Emiko was startled out of her daydream, gazing around her living room again. "You really think you were slick?" Her aunt was teasing, a soft smile dancing across her lips. Emiko gazed up at her, trailing her eyes over the harsh bun sitting at the nape of her aunt's neck. She was still draped in the suit she wore for work - cream linen hugging her every curve, meeting taupe heels on her daintily crossed feet. Her aunt was a prosecutor, and she worked alongside some of the most successful heroes in the industry. In fact, she was working a case with Shoto's father now - which seemed to be dragging on if the bags lining her aunt's eyes was any indication.
"I was, Saku!" Hisato crowed, "You're just an idiot and can't understand my prowess."
"Hisato," her mother cooed, sitting up from her place on the couch. "You were not slick and it's a wonder we've been married for as long as we have." She stood then, her navy pants pooling around her ankles. She stepped delicately over her fathers legs, bare feet padding across the pale wooden floors.
"Mara, you weren't the suave heartbreaker you seem to remember either!" Sakura giggled, moving to help her sister-in-law with clearing away the plates from their dessert. "I distinctly remember how flustered you were after your first date! You called me and could barely talk!"
Her mother rolled her eyes, tearing her gaze away from her husband and settling her blue eyes onto her daughter. A chill ran down Emiko's back, one she tried to stifle. A look of contempt crossed her mothers face in an instant, eyes narrowing ever so slightly as she stared at her daughter.
Emiko tore her gaze away, burying her face into Shoto's shoulder. He laughed slightly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before pulling away slightly. He gazed down at her, and confusion seemed to seep into his lopsided gaze - his vision clouded for only a moment and Emiko swore she saw a scar forming over his left eye, red pooling over his cheek and across the broad expanse of his forehead.
"Are you okay?" Emiko whispered, squeezing his fingers with her own. When his fingers didn't squeeze hers back as she was accustomed to, she felt dread seep into her stomach.
"Why would I not be okay, Emiko?" Her boyfriend answered, gazing down at her again. This time, his eyes were dull and lifeless - no spark or shine permeated his gaze.
Emiko stood - pressed her hands against her knees and moved backwards. Her heart was hammering in her chest, her breath coming in giant heaving pants. In front of her very eyes, the paintings lining the walls in her living room seemed to shift and ripple, colours swapping about wildly before settling back into their permission.
"Miko?" Her mother called, "what's wrong?"
She turned her gaze to the sound, flinching as she met her mothers abnormally icy gaze. The warmth that had just laced her mothers words and caressed her fathers smiling face was replaced by a truly terrifying cover of anger.
Her mind was spinning, confusion and anxiety mixing together to create a terrifying sensation in her chest. She squeezed her eyes shut, once, twice, three times. Each time her eyes popped open, she expected to see her mother gazing at her with a loving gaze. Expected to see Shoto smiling down at her, his fingers playing with the curls of her hair as he usually did when she felt nervous or anxious.
Instead, though, with each breath and each blink - more and more seemed to change. The scar on Shoto's face swirled and mottled, darkened and grew. Her mothers hair seemed to disappear into thin air - once curling wildly around her waist now sat cropped harshly under her chin. Even Emiko's own skin seemed to burn - her hands trembled as she clenched her fingers painfully tight in her own fingers.
She didn't know it, but tiny scars were cropping up across her body. Small dots lining her back and arms, tiny reminders of a life she'd never lived.
She was sobbing, her fingernails digging painfully into her skin. Her teeth dug into her bottom lip and drew blood, mixing with the tears that were streaming wildly down her cheeks.
What's happening?!
Keeping her eyes squeezed shut tightly, Emiko turned and sprinted out of the living room. She knew the layout of her home like the back of her hand and she moved through it like a ghost. Furniture cropped up in front of her and she ran her knees and shins into it, but ignored the flashes of pain. All she could do was move to her bedroom - the only space she could think of as safe in the ever changing layout of her home.
As soon as the door shut behind her, Emiko opened her eyes. Everything was as she remembered it - all of her ceramics sat on the shelf beside her bed, small animals smiling softly up at her. She could hear footsteps padding through the halls, and Emiko covered her ears with her hands.
"Miko?" Her father called, worry permeating his voice. "Miko, open the door."
She tried to ignore him - tried to ignore the way his voice seemed to shift and fade and falter with each passing second. Tried to ignore the pounding of her heart in her chest at the realization that today was a very, very bad day. Today was a day where she should have locked her bedroom door and hidden her head underneath the mountain of pillows on her bed.
"I need you to open the door for me, Miko. Please." Hisato cried, and his fist pounded against the door separating the two of them. "I don't know why you ran away, but let me help."
Her fathers soft tone was tinted with sadness, and Emiko had to fight the urge to open the door and fly into his arms as she had since she was a child. She knew his hugs could fix just about anything, but she knew that this was unfixable. She had ignored that ache in her chest, that tiny little voice in her brain and now everything was falling apart in front of her.
"I can't dad…" she sobbed, "I can't let whatever is happening to me happen to you, too."
"What do you mean, Miko?" her father answered, "What's happening?"
"Everything is changing, dad. Mom and Shoto and the house…"
"Open the door, Miko." His voice was desperate now, and Emiko finally gave in.
She stood, squeezing her eyes shut tightly. Her fingers found the nob and twisted, and Emiko was instantly enveloped in her fathers strong arms and familiar citrus scent.
"Open your eyes, Miko." He whispered against her hair, "Please? You're okay - just look at me."
She shook her head, tears still pooling in her lashes. If she opened her eyes, she was terrified of what she would see. She couldn't handle it if her father looked at her the same way her mother and Shoto had while sitting in the living room, not him.
"It's okay, kid. You're okay. Just open your eyes for me, okay?" Hisato brushed his broad palm over his daughter's hair, pressing soft kisses around her hairline as he did.
Despite her mind telling her not to, Emiko did as she was told. The moment she did, the room seemed to shift. Walls darkened, blinds were drawn and art was removed. Her father stood in front of her, brown eyes locked on her.
"There's my girl, Emiko." He smiled brightly, scooting back from her slightly. "You're okay!"
Just as she knew it would, he started to change. His hair seemed to grow slightly, curling around his ears. Wrinkles formed and he seemed to slouch just a little.
"Dad?" Emiko called, moving towards him again.
The colour seemed to drain from his skin, and he looked up at her. His eyes were dull and almost lifeless, lips dry and chapped.
"Dad?!" Emiko screamed, diving towards him as he started to slump towards her. Blood was dripping from the corner of his mouth, and Emiko tried desperately to wipe it away. It seemed to grow in amount, spilling forth from his mouth in a terrifying stream.
"Dad?"
"Emiko-" he smiled, blood coating his teeth. It pooled in his chest, spots appearing on the front of his white shirt as the moments seemed to flick by slowly.
"... love you, kid." Her father coughed, slumping even farther forwards.
"I love you, dad." Emiko sobbed, "Please - not you too. I can't… Please, dad. Don't go anywhere, okay?" She was rambling, wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders and pulling him into her chest. "Please, dad. Please?"
The blood seemed to stop flowing and Emiko sobbed into her fathers hair, his once warm brown eyes now cool and lifeless. She swung her gaze around the room, her teary eyes landing on a darkened form just beyond her doorway.
"Oh, Miko. Haven't you figured it out, yet?" Her mother cooed, stepping to the doorway. "It's taken you so long already."
