Chapter Twenty-Two: Salt Waters
Knots upon knots of wild brown locks formed a nest upon Ayumi's head, pins and clips sticking out at all angles haphazardly. This style was common for her, fulfilling the purpose of holding each and every strand away from her face, as hair always proved to be troublesome while on the job. She'd never really been fond of the chocolate mess sprouting from her scalp, treating it as though it were an invasive species, devouring the only potential for individuality of her physical features. However, the brunette, who writhed under the image of her hair, understood from early on that escaping it would be impossible. Cut it, dye it, tangle it - no treatment mattered, as each and every time, Ayumi's hair would return to it's naturally wild and brown state. She hated its tenacity, but, ironically, she'd feel an inkling if relief when the mirror reflected those chocolatey locks of horror inevitably.
Ayumi despised the fact that within her heart, she loved her hair, and thus, the sickly girl constantly pinned back one of the only links to her mother she had left. Of course, there were a select few memories throbbing in a corner of her mind, isolated and neglected by the rest of her body. But, the depth of Ayumi's relationship with her mother could be encapsulated in just two sentences:
She was brunette, smoked the same cigarette for years, and had us chew chamomile when she came home without dinner. I never knew her name.
Bubaigawara - the only link that strung together Ayumi, Jin, and their nameless mother besides the genetics displayed in unique phenotypic ratios. If she could, the wide eyed girl would've rubbed them out of her memory completely, the torture she'd felt for years suddenly nonexistent. The faces were all similar, each one like a warped funhouse version of the others, but nevertheless, Ayumi still couldn't bring herself to look in the mirror without fear of seeing the Bubaigawaras all at once. Whether it was her mother's hair, her brother's eyes, the structure of her cheekbones - Ayumi saw them. The green skinned girl only had said skin to herself, the striking tone and self inflicted bruising the only things she could safely admire. It saddened her that she couldn't appreciate her genetics; rotten thoughts of the others who shared them poisoned her praises before they exited her mouth, leaving only critiques and insults on the tip of her tongue.
This was how venom was produced.
Wide eyes intently focused on the knotted mess of a hairdo, although her mind wandered pensively through the evils of her mind. Her network of nerves in the frontal lobe was swollen with memories of the bad, the chunk of her brain managing to weigh her mind down without killing her (that would be too easy). Yet, somehow, Ayumi found time to set her hatred aside when she participated in heroics. The next raid would take time to prepare (Aizawa held a meeting after the Asamane ordeal), but the bloodshot girl had enough sweet scented thoughts stored up to last until then. It was inexplicable - the rush she felt fighting alongside connections she'd made herself, having people call her by her chosen name, depending on others to depend on her for once. Putting the Hero Killer away (although not without a great scolding from dear Recovery Girl) just pushed more buzz into her, the type of buzz that was all natural and elating. Todoroki, Midoriya, Aizawa, Shinso -
Kirishima. They kept venom at bay and her frontal lobe from popping. And so, as Ayumi departed from the room at the end of the security wing, she departed from the mirror with her hair pinned and hidden beneath her own choices. It was a rush, inexplicable, elating all at once, but for the first time, Ayumi was beginning to see past her reflection.
—
This is the house of a hero.
Two trains later, Ayumi was less than pleased with the sight facing her as she approached the steps to Kirishima's house. It was a modest building of sand and red tones, the type that caught your eye for a second, but soon you'd have your mouth full with images of other houses to come. Still, the house, the easy going street, the quaint neighborhood, they all fit Kirishima well - Ayumi couldn't picture the setting of his childhood any other way. However, an out of place anger combed over the evergreens populating the area, the heat accompanying it forcing beads of sweat out of the sickly girl's overused pores. Curious at first, when coming across the sight of an all-too-familiar, delinquent-looking prodigy, the source of the abnormal fury was easy to pin.
"What the hell is-"
"-SHE DOING HERE?!"
Bloodshot eyes and eyes that shot for blood met each other, their blind rage at the sight of the other an unsettling combination for all three in the room meant for two. Tense muscles in the face moved Bakugo's mouth agonizingly, while Ayumi's kept her tight lipped in the face of his rant. Although the two never seemed to meet eye to eye, they shared one common thought in that moment: I didn't sign up for this. Neither had known the other was coming until both had shown up on the Kirishima residence's doorstep at the same time, the shock giving way to unbridled rage on both sides. The red head knew better than anyone the state the two's relationship was in, especially after the sports festival.
Scowling enough to distort the blonde's naturally good-looking features (Ayumi hated to compliment trash, but she never made herself a liar), Bakugo nearly screamed when he saw the brunette approaching from the opposite direction. Every fiber of his being told him to turn around and keep away from her, Ayumi, the girl whose name he knew only on the surface level. Her name meant 'Sweet Fish', encapsulating the green girl's ambiguous and haunting nature perfectly in Bakugo's oddly wired mind. Ayumi was a mystery, but was Bakugo really unworthy of knowing her secrets? Bothered and huffing in annoyance under the weight of his inferiority complex, the blonde growled, "Who said you could show up to MY tutoring session?!"
"I was invited here, numbskull," retorted the beyond ticked off girl. Though she had been showered in the angry boy's spit, the uncomfortable sensation did nothing to dampen Ayumi's fury, her sharp tongue lashing back. "I'm flattered, once again, but we won't be swapping spit anytime soon. You can take yours back." Swiping her wetted brow with the back of her hand, the wide eyed girl returned the foreign saliva onto the shocked blonde, wiping it onto his stiff face with an easy smirk.
Slapping a green hand away from his face, turned red and flustered, irritated by her cold touch, Bakugo screeched, "HANDS TO YOURSELF, SCUM!"
Explosive bickering ensued, violent jabs cutting at hedges and splitting once tranquil clouds. The two brewed their own summer storm in a matter of seconds, the heat blistering the flowers planted in neighbors' gardens. Consequently, the front door to the Kirishima residence blew open, a red faced and haired Kirishima Eijirou making a much awaited appearance. The pops coming from Bakugo's hasty hands and brooding on Ayumi's end were suddenly snuffed out by the almost frighteningly bright smile displayed by the shark toothed boy - so bright it chilled the blonde and brunette, shivers the only thing they could have in common.
A laugh from the top of the stairs, then, coolly, "Guys, how about we don't do this in front of the neighbors."
Two scowls were carved at the sight of the blinding smile, one in annoyance, the other in shame, but nevertheless, two sets of irritated eyes entered the modest home of the modest boy. Upon entering, the two new faces were drenched by baby blue walls, tan accents pulling the exterior and interior together wonderfully. Wooden flooring decorated with clashing area rugs pulled the teens' attention to the ground, where assortments of weights and jump ropes were strewn all over. The house had character, made evident by goofy family photos hanging from the walls, each one including at least one smile for all to see. Though there was plentiful physical proof of the love bestowed unto the house by the Kirishimas, the way the lights in the house reached all corners of the rooms and could light up eyes in the process was evidence enough of the tenderly loved home.
This was all new for Ayumi, on the other hand, who'd only been subject to shadowed living spaces and heavy eyes at all times. Everything twinkled, twinkled in a boisterous manner that must've run in the boy's blood. Refreshing...
After a half-baked tour of the den, the trio arrived in the kitchen, where the smell of salt pricked at nose hairs and put nerves on the fritz as if on display. Kirishima's house was an ocean, waves of love and warmth crashing onto those brave enough to venture in. The blonde seemed to fare well, a buffer fueled by a good home life and self importance helping him drift at the surface, only occasionally flinching at the inviting ocean spray consistently spurted by the red head. In contrast, Ayumi was choking on the smell, unable to tread water when she already was accustomed to drowning within herself. Lungs which ached for dry air were met with drippings of compassion and friendliness, both setting her heart on fire painfully. She coughed, but quickly recomposed herself, preferring to struggle in silence than alert the two boys she was stuck with. The whiplash between warmth and wetness formed clouds within Ayumi's melancholic eyes, clouds full of salt and smiles of others. She blinked them back, though, as studies were absorbed best by dry eyes.
"So, guys. Math first?" Kirishima and the pair behind him sat at the table, the latter two unloading supplies and bracing themselves for the incoming tides brought by the shark boy's bright voice. Then, glancing over at the kitchen, he exclaimed, "Oh yeah! My mom left some fish cooking for you guys in case you were hungry."
In that moment, Bakugo and Ayumi were submerged in red tides, any struggle futile against the airtight smile thrown their way and hands on their shoulders.
—
"Your writing sucks! How the hell did you make it past first grade?!"
"It's called creativity! My adjectives are simply stupendous!"
"Oh yeah? What's an adjective, huh?!"
"Uh...you've lost me bro..."
A violent chop to Kirishima's head was delivered by the raging Bakugo, who seethed while scribbling down the definition of an adjective on to every page in the dizzy red head's notebook. "Maybe this will get you to remember, you moron. And you!" Bakugo directed his attention over to a drooling Ayumi, screwing his eyes up at the sight. Growling, he set off mini explosions right above his sweaty palm, abruptly shoving the hand by the bruised girl's unpierced ear. Her eyes shot open, and, consequently, her hand shot out as well, smacking the violent tutor on the cheek.
Ayumi rubbed her dulled eyes, cracking her knuckles in an effort to wake the rest of her body up. She yawned, asking, "What'd I miss?"
"You..." Heavy breaths took the place of words, but neither worried the groggy brunette, who had slapped the usually untouchable blonde for the second time.
A wary Kirishima glanced between the two guests, both of which held the usual scowls upon their faces. Unbeknownst to him, the sweet salts drifting in the house's air were stinging at his companions, and, as a result, the two were at each other's throats once again, irritated and at odds. The bright eyed boy gave a worried smile, afraid he'd choke on the souring atmosphere around the three, but nonetheless smiled. With a salty breath, he spoke, hoping to calm the two by saying, "Guys, maybe we should eat now! I don't want my mom's cooking to go to waste..."
Bakugo and Ayumi, at each other's throats, recoiled and looked away indignantly, neither able to meet the other's eyes.
"Fine."
"Do whatever, idiot."
Red left, leaving blond and green alone to drown.
Bakugo scoffed, moving to itch his arms. Without Kirishima between them, the room went stale, the walls fracturing and the pictures cracking in the absence of ocean. All Bakugo had was his sweat and what he could assume about the sick looking girl across from him, but the rest remained an apparent mystery. He hated it, and thus, he barked, "What's with you today?"
"Huh?"
"I don't know...You aren't being as hostile as you were last time..."
"Bakugo, being civil?!"
"Don't ignore the question!"
"I mean, what do you want me to say?"
"I DON'T KNOW, IDIOT!"
"I know. You want me to apologize, but you just don't want to admit you need the closure or something like that," Ayumi muttered, averting cloudy eyes from the blonde with the nerve. "Well, newsflash! I don't communicate, so you're going to have to deal with it like the rest of our class." There was a tinge of sadness flowing through the apathetic words, but she'd refuse to act on such sentiments.
Bakugo huffed. "No! I don't want your damn apology!" Sighing, the angry blonde pulled at his hair aggressively, words escaping himself as well.
"Then-"
"I just - I need to know you're not gonna ruin him!"
The two warring teens put their weapons down in response to the flustered boy's words, the battle between prides pausing. Ayumi's wide eyes widened, the broken vessels writhing under the absence of tension which tied the two together. Then, with a genuine smile, snake bitten, fueled by stimulants, kept secret by depressants, one of which Bakugo had never seen before (he gaped), the green girl put a hand on the headstrong boy's shoulder. Softly, she whispered to him, "Listen here, filth. I get that you care about your buddy. I do too. So, I won't apologize if you won't. As long as we both keep his best interests in mind."
Foreign words lept out of her mouth, yet they were true nonetheless. Ayumi didn't know where they originated - vocal chords? mind? heart? - but wait her way, Bakugo seemed to accept them gracefully, features settling into a peaceful frown on his face. Hands were shaken and waters rose once again, the house sighing in relief as Kirishima reentered with sweet fish and rice.
Smiling, the red head brightly asked, "So, what'd I miss?"
Two smirks met, then departed quickly, as the bloodshot girl drawled, "Oh, nothing." And thus, another battle was put to rest by the ever changing Bubaigawara Ayumi, who floated above the water now, the hand shaking Bakugo's keeping her afloat somehow.
