Chapter Text
Ryōta stared in the mirror at his tiny, pathetic wings. They were nothing more than small, tiny shards of glass at best if he used them for weapons. It was less than feathers, and more plumage, as he hadn’t given them time to recover yet. The exams were coming up. He’d already scratched out his relations to Aiko and Kiyoshi in their papers. He was only related to Haru, and Aiko and Kiyoshi were just good friends with similar quirks. He ran a few clawed fingers over his left eye, now milky white from the healing of the damaged tissue that’d covered the original blue hue of it. He traced the scar that ran down to his mid cheek. He wondered when he’d stop, when he’d quit hurting himself like this. Stop tearing his wings out, stop using the feathers he’d sometimes have to slit open his skin. Stop biting his hand when mad, stop smoking, stop doing lines, stop taking pills. He still kind of missed having his full eyesight.
He’d stop whenever he deemed it appropriate. Right now wasn’t the time, the time probably wouldn’t come for years. Maybe it’d never come.
Ryōta slowly reached behind his back, trying not to tense as he grabbed the plumage coming from his shoulder blades. It wasn’t a lot, but it’d make a bump in his back and draw some attention if he kept it around during the test. His grip tightened on the soft fuzz, and he started to pull. He squeezed his eyes shut and hissed, his breathing becoming more uneven as his wings tensed up despite his efforts. The sharp, almost glasslike shards sliced open his palms the more he pulled. He choked out a sob, a warm red fluid trickling down his back as he heard things ripping. The feathers came out with a strong tug, and he frantically tried to get the bandages to seal the wound on his back. Tears blurred his vision as he wrapped the fabric around his chest and shoulder blades, crossing it over his neck to try and cover the scars there as well. He hooked it underneath his armpits in an attempt to keep it from sliding up.
It wasn’t at all the correct way to bandage himself, but it seemed to work. The bandages were already tainted red from his hands, which he then managed to wrap correctly. He wanted to shower, he wanted to clean up, but he feared it’d make his new wrappings soggy, and would slide and reveal everything fresh. He didn’t even want to walk right now, hobbling out of the bathroom and tossing himself on the bed the rest of his siblings slept on. They weren’t allowed to have really anything other than a metal frame and a single fireproof mattress that someone had thrown out. They weren’t allowed to go anywhere on their own, and they didn’t have any money, so all they could do was pray someone threw something out. Their tails still charred the mattress, though. Their flames were too hot, not at all suited for a normal flame resistant mattress.
Haru was wide awake, lying on his back as he stared at the ceiling. He saw Ryōta come in, turning his head. “Hey, ‘Yōta. I.. I don’t feel too good.” He mumbled, the scent of burning flesh and smoke coming out of his mouth. He hadn’t let his quirk out yet, something he routinely forgot to do. His quirk needed to be used periodically, or else it’d char his organs and flesh and boil him from the inside out.
Ryōta sighed, and started to drag his brother from the bed. It wasn’t often him or his siblings could feel heat, given their quirks making them always hot. Whenever Haru forgot to do this, his body heat was so intense that it alone could start a fire without a spark. Blood dribbled from his mouth as Ryōta helped him down the stairs, still reeling from the pain in his back. Haru himself also winced and reached for his own shoulder blades and back, feeling the pain from the nerve endings Ryōta had torn from himself. Sometimes Kiyoshi’s quirk was more of a pain than a helpful boost.
Ryōta’s stomach twisted into a knot, his digestive tract felt like it was sizzling, his blood boiling, and his brain a scrambled mess. He wanted to vomit, despite it not being half as bad as how Haru felt it. Haru managed to wobble outside, and lit himself ablaze. The black fire burned inches away from what they considered their ‘home’. The knot went away, so did the sizzling, the boiling, and he could gather his thoughts again. His joints still ached, and the bandages rubbed annoyingly against his open wounds.
Haru turned around and almost immediately passed out, collapsing onto the concrete as Ryōta dove to catch him. Goddammit.
Ryōta stormed back to their room and tossed him over Aiko and Kiyoshi before throwing himself into the bed as well. He shoved his hand into a bottle of gummies, shoving three melatonin into his mouth. He stared at his siblings before his eyes started to droop. He felt himself drifting off, he slowly shut his eyes and fell asleep. When he did wake, it was to being entangled within a mass of fluffy, soft feathers, both white and black. He groaned and tried to move away, squirming out and sitting up right before the alarm went off.