Chapter One: Grayscale
The blues of the sky would be nice to see at a time like this.
A girl somewhere in her teen years dangled her feet above the calm creek, no hint of expression upon her face. Her hands were planted in the grass; the girl fingered through the blades absentmindedly.
Although the creek itself had a serene nature to it, she supplied the melancholy air to her surroundings, making it hard to tell if she was calmed by the creek or if the creek was calmed by her. The girl released a small sigh, venturing out and looking down at her reflection in the isolated water. Locks of a color unknown to her were tied up in a knot of sorts at the top of the girl's head, held together by various pens, clips, and rubber bands found at the bottom of the girl's bag. Said bag was close at the girl's side, its contents ranging from dark lip gloss and a small three by five notebook thrown in above everything else to a sandwich bag of the devil's lettuce stuffed between the pages of a pocket sized picture album.
Ayumi deemed her physical features rather ordinary, allowing herself to be okay with her round face and the rounded tip of her nose and her wide set lips that she smothered with thick gloss and pierced with snake bite rings on the daily. She couldn't say she had striking eyes, their monochrome tone matching whatever shade she observed most had. The girl had long since come to terms with the fact that she could see her brother and mother in her reflection whenever she chanced a look, yet still managed to feel a sense of longing when reminded of the fact.
With both painfully absent and no memory of her dad, Ayumi was left in a dismal, everlasting state of wonder and confusion, and she could see it somehow in every single part of her. It burst through her skin and the features she shared with her close bloodline, although they ironically felt so distant to her. Her perpetual state of confusion often gave Ayumi the sensation that she was cracking, breaking into pieces, yet while gazing at her reflection in the dark of night, she somehow managed to look ordinary. Then again, her wounds were raw and her internal turmoil was still tightly bound and caged inside of her, so she didn't really expect to see much. It was a test of sorts for herself: a reminder of her humanity and that she wasn't really cracking like how she felt she was on so many occasions.
Looks like I'm still okay, World.
No response, but she never really expected one. Ayumi found that expecting less always led to less - of anything really - a valuable lesson she had come to treasure in her isolated state. In a world where danger and riches ruled, Ayumi could reasonably say she well versed in the way the world worked. Those who had were envied and placed on a pedestal, and those who didn't would cut and tear at themselves until they felt as though they did have. Ayumi's brother and mother were prime examples of the world enacting such wonders, so she didn't feel too bad when she was reminded of their absence.
She looked around the creek, finding the serene atmosphere gone and contaminated by the ever present desolate air that hung around her. The buzz she had earlier was caving, her quirk's effects wearing off. Ayumi frowned, glancing at her bag tiredly, but resolving to leave the watery area she poisoned. What else was expected of her, though, when she had no one to go home to except the same body she dragged around all day? However, there was one thing she was sure of in that moment, no matter what she saw and couldn't see in that spiteful creek water:
The edibles just aren't going to be strong enough for tonight.
