Chapter Fourteen: The Heart's Chapter
I'll watch this time.
For once, her footsteps were all she could hear, the blood which habitually rushes through her ears temporarily muffled. The wide eyed girl looked everywhere but the exit of the tunnel, her nerves frying under the rays of sunlight escaping into the covered walkway. Although her face felt like it was baking under said rays, Ayumi knew she was flushed for other reasons - guilt, shame, embarrassment - and yet she continued trudging onward. A gust came from the open threshold, hitting her face gently, nudging her to turn away. Ayumi would've listened, but her heart had the wheel tangled under its complex vessel network, her tissues no longer shut down by the brain.
The bloodshot girl's heart used such devices to pull her gaze forward, forward towards the stands, forward towards the breeze that pushed her back. Looking ahead, Ayumi stepped across the tunnel's exit, a sense of urgency replacing her usual melancholia. A cocktail of excitement and adrenaline coursed through her arteries, Ayumi's heart anticipating victory over the bruised girl's mind. The sky was clear, fans were cheering - it almost felt as though the world had set this up for her personally. But that's when Ayumi frowned, the scene her eyes observed ruining her pleasantly triumphant nature.
Below her and the rest cheering in the stands, Bakugo was pummeling Kirishima for all to see. For Ayumi to see. The red head threw punch after hardened punch, yet the blonde's sharp counters were more effective overall. Sinking - Kirishima was sinking for all to see, for Ayumi to see, pride there but dignity stripped as the boy with the rock hard will tumbled from the pedestal he wished to reach the top of. He was being toyed with, in a way, Bakugo already having the perfect strategy to defeat Kirishima - the same Kirishima who held hopes of becoming unbreakable.
"With me, you're unbreakable."
Ayumi struggled under the weight of such words on her shoulders, bearing a conflicted frown, tugging at her snake bites. The twisty girl knew venomous words were her specialty, and thus couldn't come up with something to relieve her partner with. Her mouth was empty; her heart was full.
As punishment, Ayumi was forced to watch Kirishima shatter at the undeserving hands of Bakugo.
—
She stayed quiet for the majority of her days as an early teen. Something much stronger than a vow of silence enticed the lonely girl's tongue to stop moving, passion draining from her eyes like the color did so easily, so readily. The grays, the buzz, the gloss, the fade - Ayumi felt at home when her senses were inhibited by her own power, the girl, who's eyes became more reddened by the minute, poisoned by a sick sense of catharsis. Wounds were stapled over this way, and time was unnecessary for Ayumi to move on, minutes and days equated when the fuzz was timeless. Worn out perpetually, Ayumi was attached to the couch, where she sat, her body glued and her mind expanding in silence. Her eyes flitted to the window occasionally, then just as easily flitting back to the door with the knife in it.
Jin came and went as he pleased, of in his own world ruled and confined by addictive chains of carbon, hydrogen, and oxygen in the form of ethanol. Like Ayumi, if he drank the drug, he'd never have to bridge the gaping valley between his left and right brain, a knife shaped hole the cause of his disconnect. When alcohol wasn't twisting his mind and wrestling with his tongue, the elder Bubaigawara waged war with himself, his inflamed left brain and chaotic right brain each with a mind of their own. Of course, Ayumi didn't notice from her spot on the couch, and she never bothered to try bolting the door anymore either.
On just another night, Jin stumbled in, a familiar sight Ayumi had become immune to. Yet, it wasn't Jin in a sense, as locks of chocolate, warm and vibrant, had been bleached into a white chocolate. Ayumi couldn't see the change, however, as the grays all bled together when she used marijuana in heavy doses.
The corroded stranger blurted, "I dyed my hair." He was met with a lack of a reaction, his sister's eyes wide and void. "The dye wasn't cheap, so dinner isn't on me this week." No words, no sound, just silence. Then, resuming his usual routine, Jin stomped over to their mother's room, slamming the door.
Although Ayumi's mind remained in a vegetated state, her heart was still pumping blood, still living within the crumbling girl. She couldn't feel, and her neurons were dead, but the girl's eyes leaked tears, against all odds, against her wishes. Unable to process it, Ayumi sat, mouth agape, sobbing on the couch she glued herself to. Words bubbled up but she couldn't speak, her throat constricting as she tried to play her vocal chords one more time. There was conflict between her organs, one numb to Ayumi's pain and the other throbbing, knowing Ayumi wouldn't remember this agony in the morning.
Unbeknownst to the other, both Bubaigawara's were at war with themselves that night, and would be for countless to come.
—
"LET'S GO, KIRISHIMA!"
What was meant to be a cheer was forced out of Ayumi's throat as a scream, almost a cry. She couldn't bring herself to be joyous or cheery, yet the bloodshot girl got her feeling across all the same. And, although the crowd continued to chant and bellow over her anguished voice, Ayumi swore she saw a smirk on his jagged before the Bakugo's final blast sounded. Through the smoke and spark, the choked up medical intern hoped the smirk lasted.
When the debris cleared, Kirishima laid on the ground, unconscious, but nevertheless, the red head's lips remained quirked up ever so slightly. It stayed, even when Bakugo was declared the winner, even when Ayumi turned and walked away to meet him in the infirmary.
He hadn't broken. Not while she was there.
—
His hands tingled, then chest, then the legs, then his eyes, which burst open at the sensation. The room was mainly white, with a green splotch in the corner, the boy's blurry vision hindering his understanding of his surroundings. The green could've been mold, but for some reason, Kirishima had a nagging feeling it was more like a patch of vines, the type that you'd hear stories by ear of its hidden beauty. When the splotch came closer, however, Kirishima realized it was something even more...beautiful. Ayumi walked up to his bedside, coat on and clipboard in hand. Red hair a mess, Kirishima was still drooling and disoriented, only able to clearly see the girl he had trained with the last few weeks - the girl that stood behind him.
She hadn't put much thought into styling her chocolate flavored locks, pinning them up in a haphazard updo with no particular rhyme or reason. The bruised girl didn't hide the hemorrhaging on her neck, her cream button up shirt not reaching that high; her snake bite scared away those daring enough to stare at her for too long. Kirishima tasted the solemn air she emitted, his face relaxing contrary to his anxiety about his unrecognizable surroundings.
Ayumi sat on the side of the battered student's bed. "Kirishima, you're in the infirmary."
"Ah...I figured Bakugo got me," Kirishima replied, voice raw from battle cries wasted on an easy defeat.
Packed in the space between the two was an infinite number of things gone unsaid, the mouth unable to convey all that was felt. Yet, they still tried.
"I was born in the back of a night club." The sickly girl started at the beginning of her sickening story, the words leaving a painfully sour taste on the tip of her tongue. She averted her eyes from the vacuum of a boy, one who took all he could in so others wouldn't have to, instead focusing on the wall's clock. "My mom didn't know she was pregnant. You could imagine how furious she was to have given birth while her favorite song played with a full the dance floor." Softly, Ayumi muttered, "She hates that song now."
Kirishima didn't want to blink, afraid he'd miss a rare sight from the depths of Ayumi's guarded mind. "Where's your mom now?"
"Dunno. Maybe she's forgotten about me and can finally dance to that song again. It's not like I have any records or personal documents that tie me here. Made it so we were as invisible as she hoped we were."
"We?"
Red eyes met glossy ones - the type that could break if too many questions were thrown at them - as the brunette started messing with her hair, preoccupying herself. "I had a brother too. Jin."
"Where's he?"
Ayumi looked at the red head, her face brewing with throbbing emotion, a sort of warning before the storm. She sighed shakily, counting minutes on the clock while saying, "Dunno."
And a hand was on hers, the initial shockwaves making a reappearance. Ayumi would've pulled away, however, his rough, cracked hands reminded her of home in a way, the warm and tender feeling four walls are supposed to bring. They shared a look, shared a touch, and shared Kirishima's words in that moment: "You've got me, and we'll be unbreakable." Somehow, the red head who cleared all dread made the unspoken feelings tangible. His smile he flashed after such impactful words reassured the weary girl she was in safe hands.
Ayumi was in the hands of her home, wearing her heart on her sleeve effortlessly for the first time. His hand covered the part of her wrist where her heart ventured out, the boy quite literally holding her heart in the palm of his hand. Only this way could they both be unbreakable.
—
"Here's the pad." Red and green lit up the previously dim room, the joy between the pair holding a Christmas-like nature without the festivities. The room at the end of UA's security wing was in a disarray, textbooks laying open on the floor and clothes strung over the couch, bed, and blanketing the floor. The only neatly kept thing within the cramped room was a deck of cards set atop the wooden table neighboring the kitchen area. Kirishima didn't mind, though, because the room's chaotic state reminded him of the unpredictable girl at his side. Anything else would've been unnatural.
Ayumi threw her keys onto the table, slinging her school bag onto the undersized coat rack to the left of the door. She turned, welcoming the shark toothed boy inside with a fine tuned grunt. "You can stay a while if you want." Abandoning her post in the doorway, the girl with heavy eyes made her way into the kitchnette, pulling meat and bread out of the fridge. Being the polite hostess she was, Ayumi asked her guest, "Want dinner?"
"Sure! I'm starving!"
"I figured. If you want, you can put the TV on or whatever."
Instead of taking the suggestion, Ayumi was surprised to find Kirishima at her side, clumsily picking up a knife. He gingerly grabbed the meat in front of them, slicing the slab of muscle as though it was an offering. Smirking, Kirishima locked eyes with the confused Ayumi, playfully saying, "Nah, I think I'm fine right here." If Kirishima had ripped his gaze away from the meat for a moment, he would've noticed he wasn't the only one splashed with red in the room, but alas, the oblivious boy was busy trying to make clean cuts with his knife.
To busy herself, Ayumi turned the gas up on the stove, using a match to ease the burners into flaming up. The bruised girl oiled two pans and put them on the twin flames, stepping aside to give Kirishima space to work his part of the meal. Mumbling, Ayumi threw a slice of bread into her pan. The faint sizzling sound of the oil's fats bubbling into the rigid starches of the bread created a pleasant melody when played over Kirishima's knife slamming the cutting board. As they worked in tandem, Ayumi softly told him, "You didn't have to help. I would've been fine."
"I like helping you. It's exciting." His eyes didn't leave the meat, the shark toothed boy eyeing it like it was his next meal, though, ironically it was. Kirishima threw the meat into his pan, seasoning as he went. The aroma of the spices coupled with the glowing light emitted by the pair brought more life to the security wing than it had ever seen. The room was vibrant, their eyes were vibrant, the meal was vibrant. Ayumi was happy to see her icy tongue wouldn't be able to hold in such a warm environment.
The two plated and carried over their food, sitting at the wooden table without words. But Ayumi found she couldn't eat, as belated words filled the cracks between her teeth where food should've been. The bloodshot girl snagged Kirishima's eyes away from the meal, long enough to admit, "I didn't mean what I said to Bakugo earlier. He likes to push buttons, and I should've been more careful when dealing with him. He's the bomb, but somehow," Ayumi looked down disdainfully, heavy eyes conveying the guilt she was cursed with, "I'm the one that exploded. And that's on me." Once the words came out, Ayumi felt a weight lifted off of her, her features graced with a renewed sense of pride. Thus, she ended the confession with a simply complex, "I'm trying to be better."
Kirishima found he didn't have to think hard to reply, "I see you. I see you trying." With a kind smile, shark teeth and all, Ayumi was assured her partner felt what she wanted him to.
They both dug into the dinner they made, Ayumi finding she preferred the meat, while Kirishima was partial to the bread.
A/N: is anyone else pumped for xmas? so much opportunity for one shots and i just love the vibe in general :D also if anyone has any anime recs i'd love to hear!
