Chapter Four: Snake Bitten
Ayumi carefully tugged on her lip rings, a nervous tick she had developed long ago. She was surprised the police let her keep them - for all they knew, the rings could've been deadly weapons. Whatever the case, the rings weren't bringing much comfort to the brunette, as she found herself caught in the hard stare of the man sitting in the back corner of her room. At first glance, Ayumi was shocked into silence - the wild fur, his large build, the muzzle covering his mouth (or snout if she understood correctly). The wolf man was seated in that very corner when Ayumi came to, and it took everything in her polluted body to appear composed and unaffected. But everything clearly wasn't enough, with Ayumi's nervous tick still ever present and most likely noted by the hairy man in the chair. Even after spending a few hours exposing information about various drug rings in the area to the man, Ayumi still couldn't get over his appearance, and consequently, she stayed on edge throughout the interview.
"So, is that all?" Ayumi had taken to gnawing at her lip now, anticipating anything. If the man really wanted, he could kill her right there and then - after all, she was just a vulnerable girl kept conscious by the stabilizers being pumped into her system. Her mind was spiraling, Ayumi helplessly consumed by her nerves and thoughts of the future.
Looks like I won't be dealing big time again when I get out of here.
"Not quite...grrrr...what got you into dealing in the first place?" The man knew he had struck a nerve when Ayumi's tick faltered, the girl almost ripping a ring out of her mouth. She drew blood, covering the cut with her hand frantically. Her brows furrowed, and she took a couple of deep breaths without looking at the wild haired man.
"Well, my quirk makes it awfully easy, doesn't it?"
"Yes, but...grr...something had to have pushed you towards it. What about your...grrr...parents? Are they involved too?" Ah, a loaded question.
Ayumi sighed, determined to keep as much privacy as she possibly could. She lied, "Both my parents died in a car accident shortly after I was born. My brother took care of me as we grew up, but he died a couple of years back." It was a half truth; although Ayumi never knew her father, she did consider her mother and brother dead to her, even when painfully reminded of them in her own reflection. She knew she had to tie the lie up quick, before more questions were asked. "I was born on the side of the road and my parents were extremely...poor. They died when I was two and my brother was seven. There's no record of my birth because of that."
The tension in the room was suffocating. Ayumi knew that one wrong move and she would break; breaking meant more trouble than it was worth in her eyes. The man didn't seem to be convinced, but with a hard glance, he left the room anyways, his tail stiffly dragging behind him. The room suddenly felt larger again, as Ayumi moved her hands back to her side. Even just talking about them...it hurts so much...
Ayumi held tears back; she couldn't afford to cry when she knew so many were watching. Crying brought questions and questions brought people closer - none of which she wanted to happen. Ayumi's bruised, sickly skin had seen so many that claimed they cared, only to lead to more bruising on her part later. At that point, she didn't know whether it was her fault or theirs that every time they crossed her mind she burst more vessels to block them out. Ayumi glanced at the morphine she was placed on, recalling that the narcotic worked well for situation such as the one she was presently stuck in. Once the idea crossed her mind, the brunette couldn't forget it. The sensation was an itch waiting to be scratched; Ayumi knew full well she'd rather let go of her tormenting thoughts than be haunted by the presence of others.
She moved her right hand to her left wrist, preparing to amplify the narcotic and buzz out the rest of the world. It's not like I'd let them know. If anything, I'll be less sharing once the high sets in.
Focusing on the contents of her bloodstream, Ayumi squeezed her eyes shut and pin pointed the pain killers in various locations all over her body. And with a little effort, the molecules began to multiply...
—
Her mom was gone again.
A five-year-old Ayumi watched her mother stumble down the hall, most likely to the stairwell. Although she was young, Ayumi could sense her mother's disdain for her children, always wanting to be as far from them as possible. On rare occasions she would spend the night with her kids; on even rarer ones, she'd bring home a meal for them to share. The older brunette shared very few words with her kids, usually staggering straight over to her room after a long night drinking and partying. Besides her looks, Ayumi could only clearly remember one other thing about her mother: the cigarette that constantly dangled out of her mouth. It was always on her lips, limp and almost as lifeless as the woman who displayed it. The wear and tear on it spoke volumes, the cigarette being one of the few things Ayumi's mother actually cherished. It couldn't have been sanitary, but the woman was never known for being the most conventional.
"Ayumi, get away from the window."
The young, brunet boy Ayumi spent her days with helped his younger sister down from the windowsill that overlooked the dingy motel's pool. The boy was only ten, yet was the unofficial caretaker for his younger sister. He looked out the window as he pulled her down, sighing at the sight of their mother making her way down the sidewalk, far away from her kids.
With teary eyes, Ayumi looked up at her brother, crying, "Where's she going? Where's Mama going?"
A sad look overtook the young boy's features, as he rubbed his sister's back soothingly. "She'll be back soon, Ayumi."
"She never is, Jin."
—
The new bruise on her wrist caught her eye, pulling her back to her senses. Ayumi was still sitting in her hospital bed, the generic hospital bedding familiar to her; the girl had never really stuck around in one place too long. Everything in sight was drenched in familiar tones of gray, and Ayumi almost felt at home. Her eyes caught a man unknown to her leaning against the back wall of her (not so) private room, his dark attire contrasting with the lighter toned scheme of the walls, along with the wolf guy from earlier. The new man was well built and had bandages wrapped around his neck in a scarf like manner. Folds and folds and folds are all Ayumi could manage to think about, her glazed eyes captivated by the well used piece. She was spiraling and too far gone to think; Ayumi listened in, like a ghost hovering on the outside of the one sided discussion. The scarf guy's words pushed her mind on the surface, but all Ayumi could do was mindlessly repeat them while thinking about his scarf and running her fingers over her lip rings. Her lips were cold; she had to have been out of it for a couple of hours at the least.
"We'd like you to work with us, Bubaigawara. It's imperative we have your assistance in this operation to maximize its efficiency." The pale man who dressed darkly looked at the bruised girl expectantly, the air of finality in his statement demanding an answer. Those were the first words that really registered in Ayumi's mind. She felt the morphine she had previously pumped into her veins and arteries all over her body, pulsating almost with a life of its own. It clung to her organs, squeezing her insides and begging her to fuel its fire more.
You need more. That has to be why it's called MORphine. Ayumi laughed to herself, catching the attention of the two adults in the room. She cackled, bending over and gasping for air as she slapped the side of the bed. She couldn't feel it, but her sides were aching, whether it was due to laughing or extensive bruising.
"Aizawa!"
Before Ayumi could register what was happening, she felt something start to trickle out of her, a leaky faucet in a room of pipes. The man across from her was standing now, the laws of gravity suddenly inapplicable to his floating hair. Even without the help of color, Ayumi could see a soft glow emit from his eyes, and could feel it trained directly onto her. She felt lighter than usual, as if she were floating above everyone else. Ayumi's could feel her body float and float, giving the illusion of the type of high Ayumi couldn't even dream of achieving.
And then she dropped.
—
"What's for dinner, Jin?" A young Ayumi clambered over to the small table in the middle of the living room, otherwise known as the two siblings' bedroom. The siblings' mother didn't work for money - only favors - which kept the family crushed under the fist of poverty constantly. Somehow, the trio had managed to inconspicuously squat in the abandoned motel room for over four months straight - a new record for them. Beggars couldn't be choosy, so the ten and five-year-old made the most of their room, sharing the couch every night, clinging onto each other as they would doze off.
This evening, Jin was particularly stressed, as the two's mother hadn't come home for almost a solid month. It wasn't that the boy cared for and worried about her - in reality, he couldn't care less what the vile woman did. She made it clear the feelings were mutual every time she left them helpless and lonely, so Jin refused to let the woman affect him or his little sister. However, without anyone to watch Ayumi, who's dangerous quirk had developed a few months ago, Jin couldn't go out and procure dinner for the two. It tore him apart to see his sister's head in the clouds at the hand of her quirk, not present at all more than half the time the two were talking; it hurt him more to see her crestfallen expression every time she was brought back to reality.
At the ripe age of ten, Jin was physically weak and underfed, but had a decent handle on his copy quirk. He learned over time to use it sparingly, his conservation of energy more important than the amount of fun he had while Ayumi was in her usual daze. The boy was perpetually lonely, his only family being a woman who didn't want him and a sister who couldn't even see him. To pass time on days like those, Jin would practice his quirk here and there, measuring objects and then attempting to make replicas that would put the originals to shame. The hope that one day, he too could become a hero pushed Jin onward, and sometimes into overexertion.
When Ayumi was present, though, Jin did his best to cater to her, wanting to care for the wide eyed girl the way no one ever had for him. So as Ayumi sat in front of Jin, he put on his best smile and reassured his little sister, claiming, "Of course Mimi! Give me a second and I'll be right back!"
With her brother gone, Ayumi sat at the table, only able to hear the grumbling of her stomach over the ever present pounding of her heart. She could always feel her blood rushing and could see things others couldn't. Ayumi liked to think she was a hero with her overactive senses, though in hindsight, that wasn't it at all. While she was kept up in her own head, the young girl failed to notice a crash come from the small kitchen on the other side of the room, smiling to herself and petting the dog she saw in front of her. The dog wagged it's tail appreciatively, but with a small flicker, disintegrated in the blink of an eye.
Jin walked back into the room, limping, with two plates in hand. Ayumi eagerly reached for a plate, wondering what her brother could've come up with in such a short amount of time. Her smile faded, however, when all she saw was a slice of white bread with a little ketchup smeared on it. Ayumi looked up at Jin, who flashed her a reassuring smile as the young girl bit into the bread. Jin moved to take a bit of his too, but stopped when his melted slowly. What once was white bread discolored and formed a brown sludge on his plate. The boy clenched his fists, a scowl ingrained on his face. Tears trickled out of his eyes, and soon the brunet was sobbing onto the table, wet tears mixing with the sludge that was once bread. Jin was angry at his mother for always leaving them to starve, at himself for not having enough energy to hold the copy of the measly dinner he had pulled together for them, at the world for doing this to his poor sister. And so the boy cried, his hunger pains long forgotten.
That was the first time Ayumi had seen Jin cry.
—
"AGHHHHHH!" The blood in her body pounded against the walls of her vessels as Ayumi slammed down, coughing up spit she didn't know she was holding back. She saw her world spinning, Ayumi's eyes rolling back into her foggy head. She couldn't tell what had happened, but the girl knew she was off of everything, her organic quirk taking the wheel. Bright lights, dizziness, itching skin, heavy breaths, hallucinations of vines strapping her into her bed - Ayumi experienced all at once. She could see the man across from her in color now, as he slowly walked over to the side of her bed, needle in hand.
Ayumi giggled painfully, asking with a smirk, "What? Come to sedate me?"
The giggles stopped when the man she swore was earlier in black morphed into an image much worse. Blond hair, dark eyes, scar splitting his forehead - Jin was back in all his glory. He was dressed in the same clothes he was wearing the night he left, black and gray mask close to his side. Ayumi could almost taste the terror of that night once again, that night Jin scared her - the only time he scared her.
Ayumi face twisted in horror as she screamed, "NO! G-GET AWAY FROM ME!" Her throat was dry, the girl beginning to cough up more phantom spit.
The Jin look alike gave Ayumi a solemn smile as he plunged the needle into her wrist, whispering, "Shhhhhh...it'll be okay." And just like that, Jin was gone and replaced by the man in black. The smile was no more, a look of irritation and anger plastered on his features.
The world faded back into her senses, and Ayumi pushed herself back up. She still had color, so the girl figured she was under those stabilizers Recovery Girl had her on earlier. The girl reached up to her eyes, feeling wet tears pour down her face uncontrollably. She didn't want to show weakness, but attempts to hold up a facade seemed futile to Ayumi at that point. The girl sobbed, much like she remembered her brother had once, weakness plaguing her senses.
The man in black scoffed, turning to her. He crouched down, angrily whispering, "What do you think you were doing? You had the nerve to drug yourself after all the hospital's done for you? I'll remind you you're still in police custody and can be charged for possession and distribution of drugs, as well as illegal drug use. This opportunity is exclusive, so decide whether you're serious or not about it before you agree to work with the good guys."
The two men walked out, not sparing the broken girl another glance. Ayumi didn't mind, however, as her thoughts still lingered on the thought of her brother, much like they had been lately.
