Chapter Text
The door swings open with barely a hiss of displaced air, and just on the edge of hearing, a voice says, “ You've got fifteen minutes. ”
Himiko blinks, the beginnings of a grin inching across her face as another voice murmurs a quiet, “ Thank you, Captain, ” and in steps a much familiar figure.
“Tama-oji!” she chirps, somewhat muffled by her muzzle. Wisps of hair flutter in the corners of her eyes as she jerks in her seat, the cuffs rattling against her so very sore wrists. “Tama-oji, you've come to see little ole me?”
He's always had a good poker face, but the aborted flat flicker of his ears gives away how much this clearly unnerves him. How much she disappoints him. How hard it must be not to hate her. Himiko giggles, the sound high pitched and sharp enough to cut. Maybe that's not true. Maybe he hates her now.
But, undeterred, she continues in the same childish tone, “It's been so long! You must be doing a good job; I don't much like the weather here, but there are enough cuties to make up for it. I've had my eye on this one for the longest, he gets hurt and breaks so prettily—”
“Himiko,” he says, an even more familiar sound, the way her name slips off his tongue. A forceful command to stop.
She pouts, though she doubts he can tell exactly.
“Himiko,” he says again, voice wobbling for the briefest second. Amber eyes shine, and Himiko bares her teeth. That’s the one and only thing they share now. Mama had such pretty eyes. “Himiko, why?”
“Why, what?” she says, purposefully being difficult, obtuse. She's good at that, always has been. Right, Tama-oji?
His ears flatten, pupils thinning. “Why?” he demands, teeth needle sharp.
Himiko smiles with her eyes. “If you don't already know, I'm not tellin’,” she says, laughs.
There's nothing to tell. Only the willfully ignorant and blind don't know, and Tama-oji is all of that and wrapped with a pretty bow. Himiko was their biggest disappointment, and it's only fair she lived up to their expectations and then cut them up for it. Fucking quack doctors.
Tama-oji grits his teeth, tapered nails curling into tight fists. The alluring copper scent of blood fills the air, and Himiko sighs, licks the back of her teeth. She can almost taste the leftovers from her last scrap barely a day ago. It's a wonder he’s even allowed to see her.
“I'm… I'm sorry.”
She shrugs, and gives a hidden but easy smile. “Fuck you, Tama-oji,” she sing songs, wiggling in her seat.
What's he got to be sorry about? She wasn't his kid, and, hey, she proved them wrong, right? It took Papa a whole day to figure out Mama wasn't Mama, and when he did, well.
The fear and pain in his eyes as Mama’s form melted away is not something Himiko will ever forget.
Call me useless, she remembers saying, digging the knife in, and basking in his sobs as the last bruise Mama ever gifted her throbbed like a second heartbeat. The crack of thunder in her ears and lightning in her veins. Come on, Papa, call me Quirkless just one more time.
There's a click, and the door opens to a sliver. Boy, time sure does fly when you're having fun, huh?
Himiko’s almost glad he can't see the wistful twist to her lips as he stands. “Goodbye, Tama-oji,” she says, final and absolute.
Himiko won't be seeing him again, she's sure of it.
His whiskers twitch, eyes shadowed with a tasty looking grief. “Goodbye, Himi-mei,” he murmurs, and tugs at his tactical vest once before turning away.
He leaves without looking back.
Two officers come in after him, unhook her from the table, and escort her back to the holding cell. Twice isn't across from her anymore, and the foreign bite of strangled sorrow rears its ugly head once more. Big Sis Magne, now Twice. Himiko doesn't have much left besides herself it would seem, and. And, sometimes she wishes she'd been a little more truthful with Tama-oji about everything, way back when. About the bruises and the cruelty at school. About Mama and Papa.
Sometimes she doesn't think life could have gotten any better than this, and chews ruthlessly at the inside of her cheek, the skin giving easily to her teeth. Most of the time she thinks... that if she's got to hurt?
Then so does everyone else.