Chapter Twelve: Filth vs. Scum
Coat? Tied.
Coffee? Drank.
Stabilizers? Popped.
Nerves? Vanquished.
In came the first wave of injuries, the unmistakable groans of pain charging into the infirmary like a war cry, the battle between medics and wounds just beginning. Ayumi was quick to place two fingers on her neck, locating her carotid artery and amplifying the caffeine shooting up into her brain. The world around her faded into gray, but never before had Ayumi herself felt so alive, the girl's eyes bulging on instinct. Her brain felt electrified, the only thing keeping the girl back down on Earth and treating minor injuries being the tender self-inflicted bruise on her neck. Observing the scene set before her, the overstimulated girl realized that the more majorly injured were mainly from the non-hero courses, whereas the minor ones belonged to those moving on to the next stage of the tournament. Alas, the strong and weak exposed themselves once the scalpel and threat of going under the knife were present.
With her mind racing at a hundred miles a minute, Ayumi multitasked easily, not even paying attention to the patient beneath her as she wrapped him up. Tugging the thread the wide eyed girl was sewing into the boy's leg, Ayumi earned a pained "OW!" followed by a whiney "Watch it!", both of which she paid no mind to, instead beginning to survey the area and map out her next move.
"Oi! Ayumi! Can I get something for the pain?" Surprised to hear her name roll off unfamiliar lips, Ayumi whipped her head around, continuing to wrap the kid's leg blindly. She was met with silver hair and a gruff appearance she was sure she hadn't seen before. Her perplexed nature amplified by the copious amounts of caffeine latched onto her brain, Ayumi finished dressing the wound, then briskly made her way over to the caller boy, his eyes lighting up at the sight of her. Raising his shoulder, the bloodshot girl caught sight of his lacerated shoulder, burns, scrapes, and all the like painted over the skin.
Ayumi grabbed her bag of morphine, jabbing the needle into the boy's wrist, before questioning, "So, how do you know my name?" She waited before increasing the drug's effects, curious of the injured boy's reasoning.
He smiled, his devastated shoulder relaxing a bit. "This red head from 1-A told me to come see you! We both got crushed by this robot that half and half kid dropped!"
Rolling her wide eyes and gently prodding the damaged shoulder, Ayumi inquired further, "And is he going to come see me too, or is he just gonna refer more people to me?"
"Dunno. It seemed like he was busy hyping himself up for the next competition," the kid explained, then hurriedly added on, "I'm also competing next! I refuse to lose to that red head's rip off version of my quirk!"
It must've been the caffeine, as Ayumi found herself unable to contain the amusement in her eyes. "Ah, so we have stud on our hands. Don't worry, sporto, I'll make sure you receive the best treatment I can provide." She began to slowly increase the morphine levels, the loud boy's proud smile morphing into a goofy one, his glossed over eyes completing the look. Ayumi grabbed ointment, while asking, "What's your quirk?"
It took the boy a second, before he proclaimed, "My name's Testutetsu! What's yours, beautiful?"
Normally, Ayumi would've gagged, however, the caffeine bubbled up into laughter, the bruised girl mocking the drugged boy. "I asked you what your quirk is, stupid."
"Ohhhhh...basically my skin turns into steel! Cool, right?" Automatically, the one lightly toned gray skin Ayumi could see in her caffeinated state darkened, the metallic layer glistening with a luster she'd only seen in fine jewlery.
"Hm, interesting, but I bet Kirishima's hardening stronger than this pretty boy coat you put on." Getting the rise she wanted, the amused girl continued, "Be careful, girls might try to pick you up for your looks." Wrapping Tetsutetsu's shoulder, Ayumi sent the stunned boy over to Recovery Girl with a "See ya," and moved on to the next kid unapologetically.
Tetsutetsu, on the other hand, had trouble understanding the trade off, exclaiming over the crowds, "Wait! When will I see you again?!" To the intoxicated boy, she appeared to be a fever dream, an angel of death, a vision! His murky mind could only cling to the last words she yelled back, somehow putting him at ease:
"When you lose to my partner, you lightweight!"
—
Kirishima sat in the waiting room, breathing in confidence and forcing out worries. Sending that Tetsutetsu kid to Ayumi was last minute fun, fun the nervous red head needed and knew his green tinted partner wouldn't be fond of. Just imagining her scowl and repulsion of the overbearing, oversteeled, and overcompensating mirror of himself brought a smile to his tanned features. And, with thoughts he held onto of the girl who swam in melancholia, Kirishima didn't have to harden for his smile to become unbreakable.
The two had trained more before the competition, however, Kirishima's unbreakable mode wasn't ready for showcase yet. The pit of doubt built into his stomach would easily rupture without notice, the red head's confidence poisoned by a nasty case of self-imposed sepsis. Unbreakable skin had to be accompanied by an unbreakable will, one that the shark toothed boy had trouble holding.
"With me, you're unbreakable."
"All remaining contestants, please report to the stadium for further instruction." As if on cue, Kirishima swallowed his doubt, swallowed his fear, swallowed his worries, and flung open the door of the waiting room, anticipation filling the gaps where needed. The red head's adrenaline fueled steps suddenly came to a halt, the boy slamming into the figure before him. Before the figure fell, he grabbed shoulders, steadying them both.
"What a great guy. Thank you, my knight in shining armor, but you can let go now." Kirishima held none other than Bubaigawara Ayumi in his grip, jagged hair caught between his jagged fingers, the boy's arms hardening on instinct. "At least you've got reflexes."
Letting go, Kirishima took a couple of unsteady steps back, blushing involuntarily from such close contact. "Of course! Who do you think I am - Tetsutetsu?" Smirking, he jeered, "That numbskull got crushed! But you already knew that."
Ayumi scowled, the caffeinated high that had made her so giddy drained. She preferred colors to energy anyways. "Definitely a Casanova reject. It was hilarious hearing him claim that he'd beat you." The brunette captured the red head's thankful gaze, relishing in the idea that she finally had something to give to him in exchange for the kindness he gave to her.
Even though her expression remained stoic, Kirishima could see the cocky smile in every sound she uttered. "What can I say? The manly triumph, all others fall."
"Whatever you say. I'm off now, just wanted to check up on you." The secretly elated girl turned to leave when the unthinkable happened -
Kirishima grabbed her hand. Her hand.
The girl jolted, yanking her bruised hand out of his rough one. Ayumi assured herself the sting her palm was cursed with what was just remnants of Kirishima's cracked skin. She talked to block out the noise of her paranoid thoughts, remarking, "What now? I can't have my partner becoming all needy...You'll be useless to me that way and I'll never hear the end of it from the steel kid!" The more she talked, the more secure Ayumi felt, sure that any discomfort couldn't be seen on her face. Yet, this pain she was experiencing squeezed at her heart - she'd have to check it out later.
The red head obliviously smiled - one of his most common smiles might Ayumi add - exclaiming, "Good luck in the pit, Ayumi! Don't worry, I'm sure the damage I'll do will keep you busy."
"As if. Good luck." The two locked eyes once more - red and bloodshot converging for a moment, then breaking apart once released. Ayumi sluggishly ventured back to the infirmary, the new bane to her existence, while Kirishima jogged out to the stadium, where crowds and glory surely awaited him.
Although he had held them steady, the pair shared the same ironic thought as they parted ways: I could've fallen hard.
—
He was drunk again.
The smell of alcohol and sorrow entered the motel uninvited. If she knew it was coming, Ayumi would've locked the doors, triple checking the bolt. At thirteen, she was aware of the world around her, the dry, cracked world around her; the wide eyed girl decided she preferred her oversaturated nightmare of a world her quirk gifted her. However, in moments she needed the escape most, her quirk wilted in fear, as if all potent chemicals she harbored for years were nonexistent when she needed them. So, she spent her sober time twirling the only knife owned by the Bubaigawara's - the knife that didn't just split Jin's skull, but shattered what was left of the family as well.
And in he walked, Ayumi's nose overrun by the putrid smell of whiskey and her brother's rotting soul - both unmistakeable scents at that point to the girl. Jin stumbled in, angry eyes assaulting Ayumi's tired ones without warning. He yelled, "You trying to keep me out, huh?!" The intoxicated man of nineteen growled, approaching his sister as if she were the enemy. "Don't lock me out again, useless brat." Attempting to push past her, Jin was surprised when a firm grip latched onto his wrist, an unfamiliar strength preventing him from moving through the living room.
Unafraid, Ayumi bore her bloodshot eyes into her brothers bluish ones, threatening, "I won't hesitate to put this dagger back into your skull. I never would've removed it if I knew it would turn you into a filthy drunk."
"Oh yeah?" A look of amusement crossed Jin's features, as he continued, "What's wrong, Mimi?Bad memories?"
Slap!
The sound of a palm making contact with cheek, and then angry tears. Ayumi couldn't see past images of the two, younger, hiding from their neglectful mother. Jin would soothe her, Ayumi would cling to his shirt, they'd both take comfort in the other - all was no more. Ayumi hated that all was no more.
"Don't! Don't act like your above this! You're still here with me, not some bad guy." Lowering her voice, Ayumi's grip tightened on her older brother's arm, as she cried, "Don't make me hate you!"
"Seems like I'm too late. You locked me out, after all." As quickly as Jin broke his way in, he staggered away, slamming the door to the only bedroom in the cramped motel room. Their mother's bedroom...
It all came at Ayumi in snippets, each memory it's own individual drop in her torrential rain of emotions. Screaming in anguish, the wide eyed girl pulled at the cloth of her shirt, wishing to escape such madness. Somewhere in a deep, drug ridden cavity of her heart, Ayumi hoped Jin would come back into the living room, soothing her as he once would effortlessly, Ayumi's pain his too. She threw the knife into the door, swearing she wouldn't think of Jin again that night.
However, Ayumi opened the door to their mother's room an hour later, a sniveling mess. The girl had thought up some sort of apology truce the two could take part in. She wanted to believe it would give Jin back what that knife took from him that night, but alas, the wide eyed girl was disappointed once again. In the place of a drunk, neglectful woman, sloppily thrown onto the mattress was Ayumi's drunk, neglectful brother, the brother that once would've stood at the door with her. She wanted to gouge her eyes out and silence her emotionally scarred over heart, tears pouring over the safety of her eyelids easily. She couldn't stop the thoughts. She couldn't stop...
Without another thought, Ayumi slammed the door and pressed fingers to her left wrist. She'd never thought of the idea before, but maybe numbing the pain was what she deserved for all her suffering. Maybe she just needed a break, and she'd be able to move on and live with things again. Maybe she'd grow up.
And so, looking deep within her vessels, Ayumi found an anesthetic, and put herself to sleep.
Little did the Bubaigawaras know, neither Ayumi nor Jin would wake up the same.
—
She found it hard to put her confidence in someone - less always lead to less. Less confidence lead to less disappointment when things inevitably went wrong, and the less disappointment Ayumi felt, the less emptiness she was plagued with after. Yet, as she trained her eyes on the screen, the one that displayed the Calvary Battle for all to see, Ayumi couldn't help but put her confidence in Kirishima. The brunette felt a sense of satisfaction for once, Kirishima's valor softening her once screwed up eyes at the sight of blonde filth riding on his back. The boy had gone on and on about the blonde kid, Bakugo, one day at practice, but Ayumi tuned his praises out once she decided she disagreed with them.
Currently, she was reluctantly pumping a short term pain killer into said blonde's arms, the boy looking equally as reluctant to let Ayumi touch him. He was the last to walk in after the battle, claiming his arms needed a quick fix before the 1v1 battles.
"Stop squirming."
The boy went borderline feral at the comment, hissing, "I'm not squirming, idiot."
Ayumi abruptly jammed a syringe full of muscle relaxer into his arm, causing him to recoil unwillingly. "You are now."
"Shut up, scum."
"Don't call me scum, filth."
"I'LL SHOW YOU WHO YOU'RE CALLING FILTH!" Predictably, Bakugo ripped the needles out of his arms. When he went to fire off a blast at her arm, however, Ayumi grabbed his other arm, pumping in and amplifying some caffeine into it. The arm went limp. Immediately, the blonde clutched his drugged arm with his other hand, screaming, "What did you do?!"
Ayumi rolled her eyes, annoyed, while explaining, "Your arm's vessels are plugged with caffeine, so have fun with your lack of circulation." The boy sat there, as she continued, "Y'know, I don't get why Kirishima likes you so much. Your personality sucks, you're more trouble than you're worth, and you don't even value him. If I were him, I'd have dropped your pompous behind in the middle of the match."
Bakugo scowled in return, shooting back, "I could say the same about you. No one in the class knows you, all you do is sulk in the back, and you're even dumber than he is!" A look of shock crossed Ayumi's features, bringing Bakugo to smirk. "What? Surprised? Your tests are always blank, but I bet you thought nobody knew..."
"Shut up! I'm not dumb!" Ayumi scowled, anger threatening to surface. "I'm just saying, he admires you a lot, so don't treat him like trash."
"Whatever." Silence enveloped the two, Ayumi opting to focus on paperwork instead of Bakugo's repulsive face. That was until Bakugo questioned, "So what's up with your arms?" When Ayumi turned, she found his crimson glare fixated on the bruises left by her quirk. They never left, eternal, just like the pain Ayumi experienced that drove her to such circumstances.
"Nothing."
"That's what happens when you use your quirk, right?" He eyed the matching bruise on his forearm. "I'm not dumb. You've been drugging yourself, haven't you?" Bakugo's calculative eyes scanned Ayumi's body, no bruises going unnoticed. Ayumi internally screamed at herself for taking her coat off. Normally, such bruising remained hidden, hidden from her eyes, hidden from the questions of others.
Ayumi seethed, growling, "Shut. Up."
"Was it a freak event? A poor family life? Self hatred?" Bakugo's relentless questions beat at the curtains Ayumi sealed around her heart, the girl desperately trying to keep old pain away.
All of the above. "Just shut up about it. We don't like each other. You're filth, I'm scum, let's move on."
Bakugo smirked, having gotten the rise he wanted out of the green skinned girl. "It's funny how Bubaigawara doesn't come up in any phone books."
"Oh really. I'm flattered you wanna call me up and all, but I'll have to decline." Ayumi hoped he'd turn away from the subject, his blinding accuracy forcing palpitations upon her heart.
A pause, then, "It's almost like you don't exist."
Maybe a half truth will shut him up. "Sometimes I think it would be better that way, but we can't always get what we want."
"And that's why you get high on all the drugs you can, isn't it?" Bakugo's next words were the kill shot: "You're just a worthless addict, aren't you?"
Slap!
Ayumi slapped him. The action had only been performed by herself once before, an equal rise brought to her surface. Facade gone, Ayumi hissed, tongue gone rogue with her mind, "Leave. Don't come back, because if you do, I'll kill you myself." The stun in Bakugo's eyes sobered Ayumi, who realized just what she'd said and what she'd done.
"...Ayumi?" He saw that...
At the sound of Kirishima's voice, a lump jumped up into Ayumi's throat. The wide eyed girl couldn't bring herself to look at the blonde or red head, shame poisoning her vocal chords. Shakily, Ayumi stepped back, probing her snake bites in defense. Venom was all she spit, even nastier than what Bakugo could come up with. Those who shouldn't exist don't mix well with those who do.
"Sorry, Bakugo. You two should get to the stadium."
"Ayumi-" Before Kirishima could continue, Ayumi's icy words cut him off.
"Goodbye, both of you." Her stoic tone froze over the air inside the infirmary, the grim girl busying herself with paperwork once again.
Four red eyes attached their gaze to the bloodshot girl, but left, such icy air no place for warm blooded people. Bakugo and Kirishima exited, one with worry on his mind, the other overcome with speculation.
Some questions and feelings were better left unanswered, the tears that threatened to fall from Ayumi's eyes bubbling at the surface, boiling emotions ready to burst. I don't deserve to cry. I thought I was getting better, but I guess it still hurts. Thus, the girl collected herself, drawing her heart's curtains shut, forcing a lock, and triple checking the bolt this time.
