-6-
There are no more families after the first.
They send me to group homes instead.
One after another after another. I rarely stay for more than a few months. I always break at some point, black smoke-like tentacles billowing out and swallowing whatever triggers that particular response. In one I accidentally break someone's ankle; in another, I terribly bruise someone's arm. They pass me all over Japan, until, eventually, they put me in what the lady in gray called, "the last one."
I don't ask.
She doesn't offer.
She hands me my suitcase and leaves with a smile.
"Be good."
I write Kaito to tell him, but he stops responding too. His last note short and scrawled.
Leave me alone!
The Last One, feels the most like Mama's home. Large bedrooms with peeling wallpaper, multiple bunk beds, and the sound of several snores. It houses twenty quirk children in an eight-bedroom house. There are no toddlers at The Last One though, nobody beneath the age of nine. Instead, I'm the youngest at twelve. Haru, at seventeen, is the oldest and ready to age out.
Instead of a room full of my brothers, I room with two other girls.
Niko is thick, her skin a wrinkled, gray and her elephant nose hanging down past her chest. She uses the appendage like a third arm, battering anyone in her way (including boys twice her size) and getting what she wants. Akari, her best friend, is a water elemental. Short, stocky, and with wild orange hair, she uses her powers to prank and humiliate nearly everyone except Niko.
They delight in waking the household with a loud trumpet and wet bed. They take exceptional delight in waking me. My sheets stay in a near damp and soggy state.
The only true relief is Yui-san, the caretaker.
"Rin-chan," the middle-aged woman says with a sigh, bending over to look at me under the table. "What are you doing?"
"They stole my flashlight," I admit quietly.
Yui-san glowers.
"Do you plan on getting it back?"
"I don't want to fight," I whisper, showing her the nightlight curled in my fist. The table is positioned perfectly next to an outlet and all I have to do is reach over and plug it in.
"They'll only keep doing it," Yui-san scolds, huffing. "Half the little shits here are going to end up as villains. They honestly need a hero to come by and set their asses straight."
I blink at her, fingers wrapping tighter around the light. I hold it near my chest.
"I don't like heroes."
She snorts but stops as if seeing something in my face.
"Ah, shit girl. You serious?" I blink at her, and she shakes her head, face turning serious. "You tryin' to be a villain Rin-chan?"
I think about the cashier, his face ghost white. Arms shaking.
"No."
"Then you ought to know, there are two types of people in this world. Those with power, and those without." I nod, a lesson I've known for years. Yui-san smiles, but it's not kind. It's bitter and cold and reminds me of Daddy nursing his shot glass. Of Mama, crying in the cold. Hand over the money. "Those with power have two choices, Rin-chan. You either use it, and be a hero, or abuse it, and be a villain."
In the bag. You have one minute, or she'll kill you.
I stare at the nightlight and consider her words.
"W-W-What if I do neither?" I ask.
Yui-san's smile doesn't disappear.
"If you see someone about to get hurt, and you have the power to stop it, but you do nothing. What do you think it makes you?"
I swallow.
"Now go make them give you back your flashlight."