I've dreamed about my brothers for years.
About what they were doing, what they were thinking, if they missed me as much as I missed them…
I must have dreamed up a thousand different versions of what I'd do if I could see them again, just one more time. Would I hug them? Would I scream? Would I fall apart in tears? Would we pretend it was all just a bad dream?
I used to whisper those thoughts to myself on the too quiet nights, tucked into unfamiliar beds. In anxious seconds, pressed against cold panes of glass and waiting on mail that never seemed to come. In soft, whispered daydreams, back before I learned not to learn names.
Sometimes, when I was younger, I'd pretend they rescued me.
I'd act out these little stories in my head, nestled quietly into whatever corner of whichever home I was living in at the time. I'd pretend that Sora would appear at my window, his lopsided grin mischievous and familiar, threadbare clothes rustling in the wind. I'd imagine he'd whisper for me to hurry, to run away with him into the night—that he'd take me back home, where Mama was waiting just barely out of sight. Or I'd dream of Kaito, sweet and kind and surprising me in a doorway. He'd reach out with a warm hug and a too-big smile. Sorry it took so long, he'd laugh, stroking back my hair and helping me to re-braid it.
I'd imagine Ryu, arrogant and tall, leaning in with an expression as wild and free as ever, sneaking into my school and pulling at my sleeve as he nodded the way out.
Let's go little sister.
Mama, with her sharp, red nails as they'd slide through my hair lovingly.
If you weren't so weak, they could get more. They wouldn't fight.
And then I'd wonder why they didn't.
Was I just not enough?
If maybe I proved I was nice, if I proved I could be quiet and obedient and good—I promise I can be good—would they come then? Was that why they didn't? Was it me? Did every time I accidentally broke, was that why? Was that why they didn't?
Because I thought they loved me.
And yet…
Standing beside this too nice couch, surrounded by painted walls and lacquered photos, with a handsome blue rug spread over dark-stained hardwoods and the smell of sweet candles melting nearby, this isn't what I expected.
Ryu's home is nice, far nicer than anything we grew up in.
It looks comfortable.
And I don't… I can't understand.
He doesn't want to see you.
He doesn't want anything to do with the Hoki last name.
Atop the white, immaculate mantle, a couple beams out of silver frames. The girl with Kiko-nee's face is dressed in a full white dress and the boy, the dark stain of a tattoo peaking out from his suit, looks happy. And there are more. So many more, with that same boy grinning. One, maybe even from the same day, surrounded by four other males, their arm tattoos on full display as they strike ridiculous poses and laugh. In another, expressions of awe as the couple cradle a tiny pink bundle, and beside that an elderly pair waving from a beach pier.
My fingers drift across the edges of one, my brother's grin transposed strangely across a stranger's frame.
Like ghosts of memories I've half-forgotten and people I barely recall.
You never responded, you never even tried.
Where have you been?
Because he looks happy. And it… It feels completely unfair, like waking up to a soggy bed or getting a sheet full of red pen, and- And I don't understand. Where has he been? Why is he smiling here and why didn't he come? Why doesn't he love me? Why didn't he care?
Why didn't he try?
You never even tried.
In all the years I'd dreamed of my brothers, I never thought I could hate him.
I never thought I'd understand Kaito of all people.
And yet, staring at the picture of a grinning toddler, missing teeth and smudged food pasted across her cheeks, something black and bitter claws its way through my chest. Like acid, dripping across my tongue, like fire in my veins. Everything tastes putrid and sharp and inside, some part of me doesn't want to be rational. Something inside me burns.
Did you give up on him too?
Is that why you weren't there? Is that why he went crazy?
Did you ever even care?
The sound of tires in the driveway don't bring relief. The clack of a car door echoing and crunch of fast-moving footsteps. In another room, maybe the kitchen, I can hear the toddler Kiko-nee has yet to set down as she squeals.
"Dada! Dada!"
"Ah… Rin-chan," the woman says, peaking her head in to where I haven't moved. "Ryu's home…"
I don't know what to say.
Good?
About time?
Fuck him?
I can barely contain the torrent of emotions swirling inside. They stretch and scratch and cling like sticky tar. They ebb and churn like the dark shadows of the yawning ocean at dusk. I itch. I itch in places I can't scratch, and ache in places that feel never ending.
I feel like one wrong move, and we'll all fall apart.
I wish Sensei were here.
But he isn't.
And then the door is violently thrown open, the sound of footsteps crossing the threshold still covered in boots.
I don't turn, too afraid of what I'll say. Too afraid of what I'll find.
How many years had I imagined him? How many years had I waited?
And you were here… Living happily with your little family as our worlds broke.
Did you ever give a damn?
You were supposed to be our big brother! You were supposed to save us! You promised you'd always be there!
You promised!
My eyes sting, the smell of exhaust and car oil spilling across the room.
"Ryu, oh thank goodness! She's just been standing there-"
"Kiko, take Izumi to another room."
"But Ryu-"
"Go," he says, and he sounds like Daddy. All baritone and purpose, the grit in his tone weary and old.
I can't move.
I can barely breathe.
Ryu.
So close. So close that if I just turn, I could reach out, I could touch him.
And I'm afraid to look.
Afraid of what I'll find in the overbearing silence of retreating footsteps and quiet, half-whispered breaths.
It should have been me.
It's hard to breathe.
"Rin."
My feet move automatically.
I turn slowly, my sight still caught on the image of a snaggle-toothed grin with dark familiar eyes.
And yet, the sight of him steals my breath. Alive. Whole. My heart swells and breaks all at once. He looks more like the picture in my room then the brother I remember. Daddy's thick jaw, Mama's narrowed eyes, and styled, dark-colored hair. The tattoo on his neck, a dragon, winds and turns, twisting under his tank top only to reappear across large, muscled arms, each tattooed scale gleaming and rippling as he moves.
"Nii-san."
A million questions slide through my mind.
Where have you been? What have you been doing? Why did you change your last name? Why couldn't I come? Why didn't you want me? Why didn't you tell me? What do you know about Kaito?
All of them stick in my throat.
He seems to struggle just as much, lips opening twice only to pause, sounds stuttering and failing.
He clears his throat.
"You shouldn't be here."
Out of all the ways I'd imagined seeing my brother again, despite everything, I think some part of me still believed-
Still hoped-
It always finds the pathetic ones, the unloved wretches that no one will miss…
I glare.
"Seriously?" I curl my fist, vision blurring as the familiar rage replaces hurt. "I haven't seen—haven't heard from you since they took us, since they dragged you away. And the first thing out your mouth is I shouldn't be here! What the hell is wrong with you?"
His faces twists and I hate it.
I hate him.
I've never hated anything so much in my entire life.
"You're supposed to be my brother!" I snarl, not caring that I'm burning—not caring that there's blue dew clinging under my shirt. I can't. I can barely think past the terrible hurt wrenching at my seams. "Where have you been? Do you even know how many times I wrote you? How many times I waited for you? And I finally find you, and- and the first thing out of your fucking mouth is that? What's wrong with you? Are you crazy too? Have all of you gone stupid?"
He flinches.
I sneer, some dark part of me vindicated by it. I hope it hurts, hope my words rip at him in the same way.
"You know I found about Mama a month ago?" I growl, teeth barred in disgust. I swipe at my eyes and hate the wet tracks they leave behind, hate the furious shake in my arms. "She's been dead for years, and nobody told me! Did you not think that was important? Did you not fucking care? Or was it easier just to hide here in your stupid house-"
"Stop," he interrupts, voice low and cracked. "Rin-"
"No! Why should I?" I snarl, taking pleasure in the small jerk of his body and tightening of his shoulders. The anger that flickers across his face tastes sweet, and part of me wants him to fight—wants a reason to drag him to the floor kicking and screaming if only to do something with the sharp feeling nearly bursting from my skin. "Why should I Nii-san? Where were you? Where were you when I sent letter after letter? When I begged you to write back!"
He doesn't respond, and I want to hit him.
I want to rip apart his room, tear apart his life like Kaito tore up mine, and drag him and shake him!
"Where were you Nii-san?" I snap, taking a step forward, hair rising in fury at his silence. "Where were you when Kaito went crazy? Did you know he was killing people? Did you know why-"
"I said stop!" he interrupts, teeth barred.
"THEN ANSWER ME!" I scream, hair exploding out behind me with shadows.
Ryu doesn't back away, doesn't run or hide.
He snarls and steps forward, close enough we could touch.
"You wanna know where I was?" he growls. "I was there. I was there in the same fucking place that sold Kaito, fifteen and alone and stuck trying to save our entire fucked up family. I tried, Rin! I gave everything to this family, and it wasn't worth shit. I was there when Mama died. I watched as she choked on air. I broke her ribs trying to save her, and none of it mattered. None of it ever matters cause it doesn't change shit. She still died and Dad still isn't coming home, and no, I didn't call. I didn't want to, because every time I try, all I manage to do is fuck it up more."
I stare, eyes going wide.
And he glares, small trails of tears spilling from the corner of his eyes.
"I tried to save Kaito," he snarls, teeth barred and hands clenching and unclenching at his side. My throat tightens, lip trembling at the sight of my unmovable brother breaking. "When they offered him that damn job, some shitty lie about an office position for anyone that wanted it. People don't offer shit like that to kids, especially not quirkless rats. He was an idiot, and they took him, and I flipped every fucking table in that home until they arrested me—and then they got Sora. Doped him up on some shit that had him hooked forever."
I don't know what to say.
Don't have the words to even start.
Sora…
Ryu…
"If it wasn't for Kiko and her family, I wouldn't have gotten him back. Maybe I shouldn't have," he says, curling his lip and looking disgusted.
"Don't say that," I whisper.
"Do you even hear yourself?" he snarls. "Kaito tried to kill you. Hell, he nearly killed me. He's insane, Rin. He broke Mama's wrist for accepting some water, and he nearly burned down the house with Kiko in it."
"They hurt him!"
"And?" he growls, arms opening. "You think all of us aren't hurt? You think I don't hate them for what they did? You don't see me killing people!"
My tongue feels like led.
My brain like floss.
And I… And all the thousands of things I wanted to say, all the millions of ways I imagined this…
The words fail me.
I bow my head, blue dew drops clinging beneath my shirt.
They hurt him, and he's wrong.
But I hurt them, and Sensei still saved me.
"Who did it?" I ask instead, watching half-dazed as the tears drop into the space below. "I… I met one of the traffickers, he's going to jail. But… But he said there were heroes."
Ryu doesn't speak.
I don't look up, waiting.
After a long moment he sighs.
"The Owl."
At the sound of his retreating footsteps, I lift my head. He steps back to the front of the house, removing his shoes and looking solemn. Trading his boots for house shoes, he draws himself up and sighs again.
"I… I have something for you," he says softly before stepping back into the living room. "It's in the garage. Stay here and I'll get it."
I nod, and he pauses in the doorway for a second longer before heading to the kitchen.
I can hear their voices as they pass, Kiko-nee's worried tone and Ryu's reassurance.
The soft gurgle of the baby carries through the space between us, and I can only stare down at my hands.
I didn't want to, because every time I try, all I manage to do is fuck it up more.
"You're not the only one that struggles with low self-esteem."
I scrub at my face and breathe deeply.
The choking pressure in my throat undeterred, and I fold shaking fingers into my arms.
The Owl…
"Do you think… Do you think I could work with the hero over Kaito's case?"
Sensei, still staring in my direction, frowns. His brows furrow in that judge-y way that makes me want to squirm.
That probably wasn't the right thing to say…
"No," he says. And then, strangely enough, he folds the papers in his hands and sticks it beside him on the arm of the couch. I can already see where this is going. I sink backward. A couch conversation. "The Owl doesn't work with females."
The hero over Kaito's case… was he really the same one that started all this?
"If he has his way, your brother will be arrested and tried quietly, yes. From what I understand, he's working on the case personally."
Fuck heroes.
I don't know what to do.
I drop to the couch, arms crossing against my stomach and curl forward until my hair spills across my shoulders and neck. The dark streams curtain my face and I hide in the darkness, swallow past the painful lump in my throat and ache.
I can hear Ryu's footsteps as he returns, Kiko-nee's presence behind him steadfast.
I breathe.
Then, pushing back the hair, frown.
I don't know what I'd been expecting, but a small, black shoe box wasn't it.
He sits beside me, close enough I can feel his heat, and passes the box.
"Here."
I take it gingerly, examining it quietly before lifting the lid. Folded, meticulous papers fill the inside. I reach for one, surprised to note my own writing.
Were they…
"My letters?" I whisper.
"There were more," he says, not meeting my eye. "Mama kept them, she'd unfold them on the bad days and… you'll probably find some… worn."
I open one and see what he means immediately. My ink, which I'd penned meticulously on loose, lined paper had smudged, blurring with the lines until most of it was unreadable.
But I remember it.
It'd been the note I'd written at the home beside the wildflower field.
Mama,
They moved me again. I messed up and accidentally messed up our room. I kinda like this place though, it's really pretty. There's a really big field with lots of flowers and butterflies and at night they have really pretty fireflies! They're my favorite. Mama, if you come get me, I'm upstairs in the middle window. I miss you.
I love you.
Come get me soon.
I'd pressed a daisy in that note. The lady that had lived there had shown me how, sliding it between the letter pages.
She'd never responded.
And two months later, when I'd accidentally lost control, I broke someone's wrist.
They'd moved me the same night.
I fold the note and shift the letters.
At the bottom of the box I find the flower, no longer yellow, but instead brown and transformed. It looks so different from the flower I'd picked.
"Why didn't she respond?" I croak, unable to help the crack in my voice.
"She… She thought you'd move on," he admits, folding his hands. "Out of all of us, you had the best chance. You had the quirk, and… and she didn't want you to throw it away. She thought if you didn't think she cared, you wouldn't come back."
"That's so stupid," I whisper, choking on tears as I push aside the letters angrily. "You're all idiots!"
"Yeah," he says, and the crack in his voice only makes the tears fall harder.
"Dada…" whispers the toddler in Kiko's arms.
I blink as the little girl squirms, shoving and tossing until Kiko has no choice but to let her go and let her run to my brother.
"Dada!"
I watch as she reaches for my brother and brightens, skin lighting up on contact like a small light. And for a moment, I can't breathe.
"Hey princess," he says, swiping at his eyes before reaching down for the little girl.
"Dada! Dada!"
"Would you like to meet your aunt?" he says, and I can only stare as dark eyes the same color as mine look up, dark hair fluttering around glowing skin.
"She looks like you," Kiko admits, stepping fully into the room. "But her quirk is a bit strange."
"Kiko's family all have auditory enhancements," Ryu admits with a half-smile as he pulls the girl in for a cuddle. "Hers is more like yours but opposite."
I watch the child in front of me brighten and swallow.
"It's not."
Ryu glances my way, expression turning into confusion.
"What?"
I summon the darkness to my fingers, ignoring my brother's flinch. Kiko steps forward, but the toddler blinks.
My niece stares back, enthralled.
Black spiraling galaxies with silver dust and thick rivers of blue swirl and twist. I try to focus on my light, on the happiness of finding Ryu or the joy of remembering my mom. The shadows furl, and I realize, quite suddenly that all of my happiest memories aren't here.
They're back with Sensei and UA and…
And the place I just left.
And if I expel you?
"Then expel me."
The darkness turns blue and cold, and I release it as my brother stares.
"What was that?"
"My quirk. It's not shadow manipulation," I admit quietly. "It's emotional manifestation."
So I pull out my phone and pull up a picture of me and Hitoshi, my own glow happily coating my skin. Ryu sees it, then reaching out, takes up the phone with wide eyes. He glances between the screen and his child in disbelief, before turning to Kiko to show her as well.
I watch quietly.
"Emotions?" Kiko says, something strange coming over her face as she stares. "Rin-chan… What… What does that mean?"
"The emotions I feel manifest," I shrug, pulling back my sleeves to show her the blue liquid clinging there. "The water is sadness, and the glow means happy."
"And the shadows?" Ryu asks, looking almost overwhelmed.
"Fear."