The Price of Pain
Chapter 2: The Itch Under Your Skin
Aki sat outside the principal's office looking at the ground passively. She'd been through much worse punishments. They thought their discipline was strict, but they had not been Iwa Shinobi. They had not witnessed even a fraction of the hardships she had experienced. Their petty punishments were laughable.
"Why do you always look at the floor? You're not in the house right now," a familiar voice asked.
It was rough from disuse. Aki looked up to see purple hair and dark eyes. She felt a bout of irritation at his presence.
"Why do you not talk much?" she countered.
"Touche," he relented, but didn't leave.
She went back to staring at the ground, hoping to be left alone. He didn't go. Maybe it was misconstrued comradery, but Hitoshi sat next to her despite her obvious lack of desire to continue a conversation.
"Why did you help me?" he asked.
Was he hoping for something sentimental? She couldn't give him hope. Aki was barely living herself. She itched for escape. This false life of peace was grating at her nerves, and she hadn't 'saved' Hitoshi for any particular reason other than the violence felt natural.
"I didn't. I wanted to hurt them, so I did. It had nothing to do with you," she replied.
Hitoshi didn't speak for a short while after that, but he didn't leave. Aki didn't care as long as he remained quiet. It was... oddly nice to remain next to someone as still as her. The moment didn't last long because Hitoshi decided to get up.
"I'm sorry," he apologised.
Aki looked up for the first time since he came. She was taken aback by the genuine sadness in his expression. She would have remained silent if it weren't for the way it made her heart twist uncomfortably. She scowled.
"What for?"
"You must have been there for a long time. I've never once seen you smile. I'm sorry... that they took that away from you," he said.
Aki gripped her hands into a fist and refrained herself from killing the boy where he stood. Before she could tell him to keep his pity to himself, he left. She took in a deep breath, holding back her quirk. She could have had him shitting his pants in front of her, spiked his adrenaline so hard he would go into shock. She could have taken a knife and stabbed it into his vulnerable thin neck. Aki didn't. She was a controlled killer.
She took in a deep breath and wondered since when violence had been at the edge of her fingers. They were like sparks racing to a barrel full of explosives ready to go off at any moment. She hadn't always been like this. Violence had been a necessity, never a need. She turned to see the scowling parents of the boy's she had beaten. She was impossibly angry at them, at her father, at this world. The fact that she had held it in for 9 long years probably explained her recent bout of aggression.
"You can't let this villain stay at his school! She'll hurt more kids. With a quirk like that who knows what she's been doing to them behind your backs! I even heard she's killed a kid before," one of the mother's screamed.
Aki looked at her, catching her eye and reducing her energy just enough that she wouldn't notice. She could have done more if the lady kept eye contact for longer, but instead she was back to yelling at her teachers. It seemed the ire of every adult was on her now.
"Kuroishi," she heard a voice growl from behind her.
She turned to see her foster parent and sighed.
Well fuck, violence was more effort than it was worth.
Suspension was not fun. Aki sat in her room confined and alone for a whole week. Most days the caretaker didn't bother to feed her or give her any water. It was her punishment they said. Aki could drink from the sink in the toilet when she was allowed to go. It sucked but she had been through much worse conditions in her first life. Though she had never been this hungry or thirsty, so there was that.
It was on the fifth day that she contemplated leaving this house earlier than planned. She knew she could rough it out on the streets. She had wanted to wait until winter ended before trying, but a little bit of cold was better than this humiliation.
She hadn't expected for her door to open in the middle of the night and for Hitoshi to peak his head through the door, muzzle-free and holding a plate of sandwiches.
"You snuck me food," Aki marvelled.
Even she wasn't so prideful as to reject his offer. She picked the plate out of his hands eagerly, the hunger pains suddenly feeling more intense than it was when the idea of food was beyond reach. Now that she could smell it, it was all she could think about. Aki wolfed it down quicker than she had ever eaten anything before.
"We can't let them treat us like this. They treat us like criminals," he hissed.
Aki was mid-way through the final sandwich when he spoke up. She realised he must have watched her pitifully swallow the food like a mad man and waited to speak. She didn't have it in her to be upset with his pity any longer. She was too hungry, exhausted, and in complete agreement with him.
"Four more years," she said.
"What?"
"Until you can get out and do your own thing. That's your sentence," she explained.
He scoffed, baring his teeth in the first form of aggression he had ever shown. Aki quite liked that expression on him. The anger hidden behind clenched fists, grinding teeth and cold eyes. It validated the itch under her skin for violence.
"I heard you've been here since you were 6. Aren't you tired of it? Why should they be allowed to treat us this way at all?" Hitoshi asked.
Aki felt a little insulted at his pushing. If she recalled, he was also quick to become passive. She saw him get beat up at school for his villain quirk almost always. He was passive too and he thought he could criticise her for it? Had her standing up for him once sparked some kind of delusion into him?
"We have to get this to the authorities. Change the system," he said.
Aki scoffed. "Maybe try standing up to those boys beating you before you start trying to be a revolutionary."
Hitoshi flushed at being called out like that but instead of biting back with meaner words he nodded in acceptance. Aki felt her bite die. It wasn't very fun to argue with someone who was being level-headed. Her hunger was not helping her temper though.
"You're right. But we can't give up. We have to at least try," he said.
"And do what exactly?" Aki sighed.
"We can find a hero. They'll have to help."
"A hero," Aki repeated, unable to suppress the incredulous tone to her voice.
She could not fathom why everyone trusted these 'paragons of justice' so much. They were not like shinobi. Not structured or trained properly. Shinobi carried out missions for their village and were unified through discipline and comradery. Heroes did what they did for ego and fortune, and occasionally to do the 'right' thing, whatever that was. Unlike shinobi, they were unpredictable in their motivation. It made trusting any of them without extensive research, near impossible.
Aki was more familiar with the word hero when it was associated with war. War heroes, whether they were a war criminal, or a hero was dependent on what country they were from. They were revered for their ability to kill in the thousands. She suspected she had been killed by one too, not that she had a way to confirm it. The heroes of this world by contrast, were defined by the task of saving people. Death was an unfortunate side effect, never sought, and always prevented as much as possible. But they were sleazy in a different way. Saving people, and using a word with so much altruistic meaning, to further their corporate and greedy agenda. Aki didn't trust a hero more than she trusted a goddamn Konoha Shinobi.
She didn't trust heroes, not a single bit. But Shinsou Hitoshi... she trusted him in so far as much as she trusted he meant what he said. He desperately wanted to leave this place. She could sympathise. Children were so rarely treated with anything that amounted to as respect. It was even worse here considering even at 14 she was considered a child. As a Shinobi this was a respectable adult age. People considered you young still, but they knew you had enough experience to be worth listening to. In this world she would have to wait until she was 18.
"Going to heroes won't help. If it did an institution like this wouldn't even exist. You don't think someone else has already tried?" she asked.
"What do you want to do then, if you don't like my ideas?" he asked irritated.
"Leave," she said simply.
Shinsou huffed in disbelief. His eyes clearly spoke his feelings loud and clear. He thought she was crazy.
"I'm only telling you this because you risked punishment to get me food. I haven't spent my days idle. I have some connections with the Underground," she admitted.
"What?" he asked, eyes growing wide.
Aki levelled him a look before chewing the final bit of the sandwich left.
"It's going to be a dangerous job. If you come, we'll be running drugs between suppliers, stealing information, and other jobs like that," she said.
Aki wondered if she'd regret telling Hitoshi this. So far, he looked incredibly scared, and put off. Then again as far as she knew he had no criminal history. Children were adaptable if nothing. A few months in this line of work, and he'd get used to it.
"Are you crazy? The underground is dangerous and full of villains. Kuroishi, are you trying to get yourself killed? This is... it's wrong," he hissed.
"Never claimed it was the right thing to do. Just the best option we have right now. It doesn't have to be forever. We dip our feet into the underground, find a niche, and profit. Drug running will be temporary, and we don't have to commit to any gang," she explained.
"I'm not a villain," he said, his voice going cold and hard.
Aki rose a brow incredulously. "When did I ever suggest you were?"
"The moment you suggested we join a gang," he nearly yelled.
"Hero. Villain. It's just bullshit terms. Unless you're off torturing cats for fun I don't see why the term villain needs to apply. We're going to be criminals," she scoffed.
Hitoshi faltered for a moment and Aki knew she had challenged a pretty fundamental view of his world for a moment. The people here were so obsessed with two words that they very rarely decided to dissect and consider. It was all so theatrical, but so fundamentally ingrained in their culture.
"I- I don't think it's a good idea. Let's talk to a hero first. If not, we can show the world, we aren't inherently dangerous just because of our quirks," he said.
"Are we not?" Aki sighed.
"What?"
"Inherently dangerous. I can stop your heart right now with enough energy, and you could have told me to kill myself the entire time we were having this conversation," Aki pointed out.
Hitoshi paled for a second before the scowl came back in full effect. It seemed like she'd struck a nerve there, one that may have closed him off to her for good. Not that she cared.
"Forget my offer," he said coldly, as he got up to get to the door.
"Well mine still stands. If you want to get out of here, that's the way to go. Feel free to try your method and fail," Aki shrugged.
He glared at her from the door. "You know you don't fool me. You've never once hurt a person here, and when a kid younger than you is hungry, I've seen you give them your own food. You shouldn't be joining gangs. We should be showing the world we're better than they think we are," Hitoshi said, his voice growing firmer.
Aki huffed, turning away from him on her bed. He closed the door and the conversation ended. Her a hero? Aki barely felt like a human at times let alone a hero. Dressing up in ridiculous costumes and saving people wasn't for her.
For a moment she imagined a world with a father and mother, in a small home with a yard and a dog. She imagined cutting vegetables with her mother as they cooked. She imagined a life where her little brother grew up right with her, and she fought with him, pinched his cheeks and bought him some icy-pops. A small innocent world with no war.
Aki had wished for nothing more than the joy of a family. She had none of that. Her life was lived cold and alone. Heroes and villains were so far from her mind they weren't even in the peripheral of her thoughts. Aki was a Shinobi. It spoke of contracts and killing, but also of duty and protection. She was a Shinobi with no family and no nation, drifting in a world with no ties.
That was her hell.
Hitoshi had tried everything he could. He'd tried getting the attention of a hero, he'd tried telling a teacher, and he'd even resorted to begging a random woman on the street. The moment they learnt about his quirk they turned their backs on him. He hadn't ever used it to hurt anyone. How could they call him a villain for something he'd never even done?
Kuroishi Akiho's offer rang in his head every day like a forbidden temptation, an offer for freedom. It left a sour taste in his mouth. Criminal activity with the quirks they had would make them devastatingly powerful villains, but succumbing to their accusations and becoming the villain they wanted was not on his agenda. Hitoshi knew he wasn't evil. He just needed everyone else to see it.
He didn't know how.
He walked down a nearby street to clear his head. If he went back to the house, he'd be muzzled and sent to his room. This brief moment in between class and going home was the only real freedom he had. He watched as Aki walked past him, head down and barely noticing him. Her dark eyes were as dull as her personality, and her face was sharp and hardened in sharp contrast to her ridiculously fluffy mousy brown hair. But the most striking thing about her was her ability to be apart from everyone else.
She moved through the world like not one person mattered to her. That night he had given her sandwiches was the most he had ever heard her speak. And even after the event she barely looked at him, as if the offer she had reached out to him wasn't monumental enough to shake his very life. She offered him crime like she was asking him if he wanted to watch a movie with him. He hated how flippantly she had said it, how resigned she was to being a villain.
He wondered if he was beginning to hate her. There was anger there, but he had barely been in the foster system for a year. Before his life was uprooted, he had parents at least who tolerated him. He had some friends who weren't the closest but at least didn't write him off as a villain. He suspected Akiho had none of those things, so it was hard to hate her, when all he could feel was angry, she was in that situation in the first place, and angry that she didn't realise how fucked up it was that they trained her to keep her head down and move through the world like a lifeless doll.
Hitoshi considered taking a detour so he could clear his head when he noticed Akiho turn a corner. Seeing as it wasn't the way to their place he followed after her. He snuck behind walls, keeping just far back enough that she wouldn't notice when she finally stopped in a back alley nearby an old, abandoned building.
"Kuroishi, it's nice to see you kid," a nassaly voice called out.
Hitoshi peaked his head out to see a tall spindly man come out, lighting a cigar.
"Giran. I have the information you needed," she said, pulling out a small usb from her bag.
The man, Giran, whistled appreciatively as he pocketed the small device into his shirt sleeve.
"I'm impressed kid. You managed to steal the entire database?"
"Yes. There were no casualties. It wasn't a government building Giran. Don't make it sound so impressive," she said dryly.
"Give yourself some credit brat. Not many kids your age can pull off something like this with a curfew."
"Yeah, yeah keep buttering me up. I'm not joining your crew," she huffed.
"You're an independent contract worker. I know because you won't stop reminding me," Giran sighed.
Hitoshi's head was spinning. This was definitely some illegal shit going on right now. He wondered what exactly Akiho had given him.
"My payment," she said, tone impatient.
"Hold your panties, I'm getting it," he said handing her a small case.
Hitoshi had to really crane his neck to see what it was. He nearly gasped and gave himself away when he saw a gun inside the case.
"You know how to use it?" Giran asked.
"No, I've never handled a weapon like this before," she replied honestly.
"I'm no teacher. Don't expect free lessons unless you're willing to pay with more work," he said.
Akiho scoffed as she loaded the gun slowly. "I don't need lessons from you. The internet exists, and practice will fill in the rest. Besides this is simply a precaution. I have... other methods."
"Your quirk," he hummed.
Akiho actually laughed at that, but the sound felt hollow to Hitoshi's ear. She sounded more bitter than anything.
"I'm not here to give you my resume again Giran. It was a pleasure doing business with you. Call me if you have another job but I'm not joining any villain boy bands," she said.
"Sure thing kid. But word of advice. The lone wolves die the quickest in this profession. Sooner or later you need someone to have your back," he said.
Akiho didn't respond to that, simply took her things, and left with a brief goodbye. Hitoshi took that as his que to leave, but just before he turned, she was in front of him. He gasped and stepped back.
"Calm down Shinsou," she said looking decidedly unimpressed at him.
"How did—"
"—I know you were here?" she asked, finishing his sentence for him.
Hitoshi gulped and nodded. Considering using his quirk to get her to go back home and not hurt him.
"I knew you were here the whole time. You're not exactly good at tailing," she said.
"Why... why did you let me?" he asked, feeling his heartbeat faster at her intense gaze.
She didn't speak for a moment and met his eyes. He didn't realise how black her eyes were until now. It wasn't a dark brown, but a pure deep pitch black that seemed almost endless.
"You already know I plan to do work for the Underground. What would hiding this from you achieve? If you wanted to report me, you would have by now. But you haven't," she said taking a step into his personal space.
Hitoshi found himself unable to move. It was like she had locked his body in place and his heart was beating a mile an hour. Sweat dripped from his face as she cupped his chin, and despite being a head shorter seemed to loom over him in this moment.
"W-what did you do?" he asked.
"You freeze when you're afraid," she said instead of answering him.
Hitoshi couldn't exactly think straight. He felt a deep dread inside of him that he couldn't shake. His body was strung tightly in a ball, like his limbs were locked shut in place. All he could do was stare into those deep dark eyes in terror. And just like that, whatever hold she had on him ended and he fell to the ground gasping, holding his chest as his body began shivering.
"That was my quirk. Maybe you're not cut out for this kind of life after all. Don't follow me again," she said, leaving him there trying desperately to compose himself.
Hitoshi didn't know what kind of monster he had met but he was relieved she had left.
Aki left not long after she got a gun. She didn't know if she was a good shot. She couldn't exactly practice it. But she was good with kunai, senbon and shuriken. She had no idea what kind of channels she needed to go through to get any that was worthwhile wielding.
She was a seasoned shinobi but not a seasoned criminal. Her work had been bloody and harsh, but it had always been above board. Iwa had ordered her to kill and pillage and she had obeyed, but that had been legal in the end. Back then she had considered criminals and rogue shinobi to be honourless scum. She supposed she was one now.
So she slinked away from the relative safety of the foster home for something more uncertain. Not of course before she left Hitoshi a present. It was a small key, one she was sure the care takers wouldn't miss. It would allow him to take off his muzzle. She left it with a small note and a name. Who knew if he would reconsider her offer. Or maybe he would actually stick to his plan of showing the world he wasn't a villain.
Aki couldn't. She still didn't consider herself a villain, but as far as public perception went, she just didn't care. It was hard to make herself care when she'd given all that energy to a life she had died abruptly to.
As she slipped into Hitoshi's room, the boy was twisting and turning in his bed, moaning out a name with clenched teeth and furrowed brows. She'd seen Shinobi with night terrors. They were the first to die in the field, and get their team killed too. No one wanted a loud unconscious mess in the middle of the night. Either they learnt to keep themselves quiet in their sleep, or they were barred from missions.
This wasn't Iwa. Hitoshi was no Shinobi. He was a civilian child, she reminded herself. He had brought her sandwiches. She was stuck on that memory. Those had been the best goddamn sandwiches she'd ever had. Somehow this small, insignificant teen had struck a chord in her heart.
Aki gently lulled him to his side, pulling his ruffled sheets over him. She couldn't maintain eye contact so she couldn't exactly calm him down. In the end she resorted to more mundane methods as she knelt beside his bed.
"You're safe. Don't be scared," she continued, whispering random platitudes into his ear as his struggling and crying stopped. Then she tucked the key and note under his pillow.
There had only been only a handful of people in her life that had ever bothered to help her and show her kindness. Her Jounin sensei had been one, but he had died right before she made Chunin, her Genin team had helped, but they too had died even earlier into her career, and finally there had been that one granny who lived across from her that knit her sweaters occasionally. In this life she had the hero Eraserhead, and now Shinsou Hitoshi.
Their actions made them different. She owed them in some way for showing kindness in a world that had forgotten it. She needed reminders to be kind too sometimes. Though she practised it rarely. Kindness in excess was dangerous.
"Kuroishi?" Hitoshi asked, his voice slurred by sleep.
"Shhh. Go back to sleep," she whispered.
"What are you... in my room?" he asked.
"Back to sleep. You'll have only good dreams," she said, sending a surge of endorphins through his mind as she put him to sleep.
As he clocked out, the tension in his face slackened. Only good dreams would follow this night. Aki got up and left in the cover of darkness.
It was time to shed her sheep's skin.