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Maybe yelling 'fucking try me' wasn't the best approach to the situation but god did it feel good to yell it in his face.
In the moments after being kicked out of the only place she'd ever called home, Tenko walks till her feet are sore. Through warm, unending tears, the adrenaline from the fight wears off: Father's face seared onto the backs of her eyelids. She can't see the redness of his face or the flying spit without cringing, causing another wave of tears to escape her attempts at calming down.
After today, it was made very clear that she wasn't welcome anymore. A point echoed by the door being slammed in her face. And Mother didn't say move or speak, or tell him that he's overreacting.
She just stood there like a stone, doing nothing but crying, probably thinking about what the neighbours could overhear. Asshole.
At the ripe old age of four years old, Tenko knew in the pits of her very soul that she was meant to be a hero. Nothing else entered her mind once she pinned a name to the profession, though speaking life into these thoughts would earn her a swift smack. But children are tenacious beings and every time the idea is beaten out of her, it comes back with just as much passion: in the games the kindergarteners play, the images on the sides of yogurt pots, and plastered all over the television channels.
"Wanna play doctors?! You can be the injured hero!"
"Hey Tenko, do you want to play house?! Here, you can be the Mummy and I'll be the Baddie that squashes your house!"
Unwantingly, her mind circles back to her not-home. Not-any-more-home. Ex-household?
She wasn't sure what to call herself now. Her family, her existence in it and all that she had ever known was now useless trash: scrunched up into an itty bitty ball. Spat on. Stomped on. Thrown away like a disgusting piece of garbage like she didn't mean shit in the first place.
No book in the library spoke about what to do when you're kicked out of home. Or how to feel about it. She certainly feels hurt and shame mixed together with a whole lot of other things but she couldn't pull one out to inspect when she's this enmeshed in the moment. The tears continue to dribble down her cheeks and off her chin as the road to nowhere in particular continues.
Father's words were just as loud and vitriolic replayed back. They hammered her ears till they fizzed with white noise.
She chokes back the urge to cry, feeling lighter than before. "Fuck all of them." She tells sternly to herself. The cicadas chirp nonsense back. Tenko breathes out through her nose and sighs, wishing she had a tissue. Her school uniform would have to do. "You're okay."
Tenko smears away the scene replaying in her head as she does with her tears, not too sure what to do. It's late in the evening when she finally stops walking, turning to see a police car encroaching towards her on the sidewalk, unable to see past the headlights.
Regardless of the pain from the fallout, Tenko knew herself in a way that felt unusual for most her age. Being so steeled with certainty feels adjunct to the criticism but the young teen doesn't let it stop her. There wasn't anything wrong with her ambitions. She wasn't wrong for wanting more just because it didn't fit into the mold dictated by Father. And she sure as hell wasn't about to sit down and let them strip this chance from her, no matter the shit they spin. Fuck them all.
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She's four again.
It's deep into summer when Tenko's quirk emerges. She remembers the day so vividly: muggy enough at night for her to roll around in the grass with Mon without needing additional clothing. Her fringe sticks to the sides of her face and she can smell dinner cooking in the kitchen. But this is a punishment, one that feels wholy undeserved because she: 'didn't do anything!'
But here she was, hungry and in trouble because Hana told a fat lie. She didn't have a watch to tell the time with either, so being isolated out here made Tenko feel horribly alone. And frightened. And confused.
Mon's body runs at a high temperature, typical since the corgi hadn't been taken to the groomer yet. And with him being terribly clingy (more or less being with Grandma every waking second if he could help it) Tenko wanted nothing to do with him. She's dressed in a tank top and silk pyjama bottoms: blooming lavender bruises on her upper arm sit hidden under the shade of the early evening.
Tenko gulps, trying to make sense as much as a four year old could in this situation.
Father had been real mad this time, madder than she'd ever seen him before. Tenko got in trouble and Hana didn't, and it wasn't fair! Why did Father get mad at her and not Hana? How is it fair? She hadn't been anywhere near the upstairs office anyway; instead, she'd been consumed with her drawings when Father strode into her room.
She gave up asking to be let in when Mother closed the curtains over the sliding door. Instead, she watches the shadows move around from the comfort of the spot next to the dog house, where Mon's dirtied pillow sits. And the more she sits with her legs tucked to her chest, ruminating with stormclouds over her head, the more her hands itched. It bugs her to no end because all she wants is to be alone and hug Mon. But the itching burns the more she tries to ignore it.
And nothing would relieve her of it. Fingernails only hurt her skin, not enough to quench the urge. She then feverishly tries to scratch her skin with her two front teeth, something that usually does the trick but even then, it wasn't enough. She feels almost mad trying to find an outlet, wondering if there were worms crawling under her skin. Tenko looks around for something else and to her left, her eyes catch sight of the bottom railing of the roof on the dog house. The black and weathered shingles look sharp enough that maybe it would fix things.
Tenko can't reach it while sitting on the ground. So she stands, Mon sliding off her lap. Disgruntled at the sudden change, Mon yaps incessantly; all the while, Tenko's reaches out for her sharpened edge.
She can't see her but Hana's voice reaches her ears over Mon's barking. "Hurry up slowpoke! Mum says dinner is ready!"
Mon, thinking that she's holding out her arm, thinks she's reaching for him. He tackles her stomach forcefully. Tenko is shoved unexpectedly, stumbling back with outstretched hands. She cries out at Mon and the moment her hands touch the chipped paint of the dog house's walls, she feels addictive relief.
It's like all the noise - the summer breeze through the backyard trees, Hana's yelling in the distance, Mon's barking right at her hip - ceases to exist. Like losing all the power in the house. What follows is a great weight on her chest and tears blurring her vision. All the words that Father had said and did to her were,sickeningly right there, and in an overwhelming flush of nausea, the firm presence of the dog house that she had been learning on disappeared.
Like a sandcastle with one wall that's slowly disintegrating into a bajillion little pieces of sand, the dog house topples over into a pile of dust. Or sand. Or something. Mon thinks this is all a game, so he's at her feet and jumping all over her. Tenko grabs her shirt as she trips, falling back into the bushes. All around her, all their coverage disappeared. She shrieks and then coughs, choking, the dust hitting her face.
Her eyes lock shut and it feels like she might pass out if she holds her breath. It's suddenly a lot colder than before and she's frightened to touch anything else. But she's scared to breathe in.
And then, suddenly, Mon's barking turns away from her. Tenko's too scared to open her eyes, mind racing with panic. If she opens them, what if her eyes turn to dust!? What if she can't even see anything!?
Hana's voice sounds closer than before and it makes her cry out loud.
"It's okay!" Her sister yells, with a wobbling voice that jerks around as she tries to contain the corgi. "Stay there Tenko! I'll go get Mum!"
The next six hours - her Mother would later say it was six hours but for Tenko, who was tired and emotionally drained, it felt unfathomably longer - Tenko, Mum and Grandma sat in the emergency room of their town, one that specialises in quirk emergencies after hours. The start of the day was vivid in her mind but the more it went by, the less she could remember clearly.
She remembers the doctor coming back into their little curtained cubicle after going through a series of trials. They've got her hands covered in these strange gloves that she's not used. They feel weird and she just wants to scratch them. But, at least Mum is here to fall asleep on. Her hugs are nice and comforting.
The doctor gives the two women a brief run down of the situation that led them to being here and the results of her tests. Tenko needs to come back to the specialty clinic that's attached to the hospital, in order to fully diagnose her quirk. For now, she's discharged home several new gloves and a candy that sits uneaten in the back of the car.
Mum lets her off of school the next morning, since they were both up very late, but Father grounds her for the week for destroying the dog house. Father helps build a new one with her, because she needs to learn that her actions have consequences. Even, apparently, if it was a complete accident.
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There was a general sense of relief when Tenko arrived back in class, with a shiny new change to her quirk status. The relief comes from defying those that called her names and that now - as she inspects the dark blue gloves that match her school uniform - she feels more grounded in herself.
'Decay' was an unusual quirk according to her doctor and the teacher had to explain to the class some new rules as a result of her change. The response was mixed. Not entirely positive because the possibility of instantly dying frightened many and yet at the same time she was marvelled by a select few because of the potential power one could possess with it. That left Tenko in the position of spending most of her free lunchtime and sometimes after school, in the library on the second floor of the school's campus. Being out of the general populous' periphery was a great way to lose their interests.
She found comfort in the silent aura that cloaked the space. Books meant information, protection and escape. And that means everything.
Books didn't require pleasantries or social cues. They spoke of things other than herself; of far away places, of science and animals, of equations and languages beyond her current capabilities of understanding. Her want to understand things was almost insatiable and Tenko found that time dissipated once her eyes read the first sentence. Her favourite hiding place was a table tucked in the corner of the library, spaced between two bookshelves and it overlooked the playground outside. The sun was a nice friend as she studied, trying to improve herself when the teachers didn't explain something in a way she could properly apply.
It's a lonely kind of upbringing but she doesn't recognise it as such. Because she has her books. And she has herself.
She dreams of the smile on Father's face when she shows him her maths test. She'd worked really hard on it and, according to the teacher, she had done really well. It meant even more to her since it was hard to focus when there was the scratching on pencils on paper around her, the sounds of focussed breathing tickling at her ears. Her Japanese test, on the other hand, was something she would keep hidden for a while until her mother unearthed it from the bottom of her schoolbag. When her Mum calls the teacher to investigate, because she can hardly read her daughter's writing, it's suggested she visit the optometrist.
Her grades improved from then on.
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"You know, Tenko, I've said before that you seem years beyond your age but look!" The Librarian, an elderly lady who only worked there Mondays to Wednesdays, pointed towards the top of her head. Tenko's hand reaches up to her locks, trying to see what the lady meant but she couldn't right then. Her hair wasn't long enough to see. It was barely past her chin. "You're getting some grey hairs, like mine!"
It was an off hand comment and something said so flippantly like she was looking at the discounted price of apples. But it stuck in Tenko's head for days on end, playing over in it again and again, and even when she looked in the mirror in the morning while getting ready in her uniform. She didn't notice the change at first, not until that weird old lady had pointed it out to her and subsequently threw her rhythm off for the entire week.
Grey hair is normal, right? Grandma has lots and even Mum and Father do. But not Hana and Hana's closer to her age than her parents and grandparents were.
But now that she looks closely at herself in the mirror, she can see her eyes are different too. They're not a dark chocolate black anymore but a deep brown, a filtered deep red like the drink that the adults sometimes have with dinner, the one she wasn't allowed to taste.
It's then, she thinks, that something's not right. She's heard of hair changing colour but not eyes. Not without a quirk or one of those contact lenses her friend's older sister uses for her cosplays. It gives her much stress, and without knowing it, exacerbates the issue even more. So by the time Tenko was able to visit the specialist again, the amount of grey hairs grew even more.
The leading theory for the changes in Tenko's appearance was that it was linked to her quirk.
'Of course it is' She thinks the moment she hears the doctor's explanation. 'Everything started after it appeared.'
Emotions are a powerful force that affects the body a lot more than people know. Stress, being one of the most identifiable contributors. They think people back in the old days knew this too, said the doctor when she asked as they were talking, humouring her. For such a powerful quirk to be contained in a small body like hers, it needed to filter the stress of containing the quirk while maintaining an acceptable level of emotional welfare for its host.
Tenko didn't understand that much. So he explained it to her like this, with a whiteboard, in his little office:
"You have this much water in your sink - your sink is your body, okay? - and all that water is everything in your body. Your thoughts that make you feel emotions, the food you ate for dinner last night, stuff like that. So, what do you think happens if we plop a big rock such as 'anger' or 'stress'?"
"The water gets higher!"
"That's right, the water gets higher! And what do you think happens if too much goes in there?"
"It'll make a big mess!"
The doctor chuckles, looking down at his drawing. "Exactly. So, now, what do you think would happen if we drilled a hole in the sink on the side?"
Tenko thinks about the question before pailing, suddenly feeling terrified to be here with this man. "Y-You're gonna drill a hole in me?!"
(No, they were in fact, not going to drill a hole in her. But he said that the hole - the reason why her hair had greys and her eyes changed colours - was her body's way of filtering both her emotions and her quirk, so that it would never overflow.)
Not all of the changes were harmless, though. Another filter for her quirk was the surge in eczema, which irritates her to no end. So, she left the doctor's office with answers, topical cream and a great story to tell Father that he would eventually blank out half way through because he was too tired from work.
But it didn't matter. She had her answers and she felt safe again.
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Time passed slowly. Names change and Tenko grows more into herself, watching the distance between herself and her family grow as well. While Hana takes more after Mother, with her short stature, good nature and aptness for anything creative that she tried, Tenko mirrors the tall stature of her Father. And it's no secret to why he treats her differently: she's the spitting image of she-must-not-be-named, right down to the beauty spot on her chin.
It's stifling to live under that roof. She keeps silent during dinners and passively ignores the judgement of her only living grandparents. (Mainly her Grandmother. Grandfather kept to himself and never really said much of anything.) Whatever grades she got, no matter how stunning they were, it never felt enough to please them. All of Hana's achievements were on the fridge and walls, teasing Tenko every time she left the toilet.
Stifling soon turned to painful tinges.
She seeks comfort outside of the Shimura household. Tenko signs up for a small paper delivery job that keeps her busy on the weekends. Nobody complains about this development but Father goes through with her some conditions on her having his job. And when the money starts to flow in - a measly amount but still a sizable income for a teenager - he opens a bank account for her. She splits her pay, telling her Mum she's saving half for the future and half for spending at the corner store after her newspaper run. But she doesn't disclose where she keeps the latter half; it's stored in a jar, in her closet, underneath a couple of moveable floorboards in the corner. She doesn't know where this came from but it made her feel safer. She hides the bank statements that arrived in their letterbox, hiding them in the back of her underwear as she brought the rest of the mail into her Father.
And when the delivery route wasn't enough to keep her distracted, she took up running after school.
It's free and it keeps her fit. It distracts her from all the voices that repeat in her head and from their gazes at the dinner table. It's during one of these solo runs around the neighbourhood that she's reminded of that small girl who didn't have a quirk yet: how she exudes happiness. She can picture her vividly, with a wide grin on her face, looking at the small television that sat in their local corner store, covering the day's most recent hero developments.
It makes her want to cry. But what was the point in doing that now?
Tenko keeps her breathing steady and feels brilliant adrenaline vibrate through her feet as they connect with the pavement. No matter what they say about her, no matter what her family tells her, she's going to chase after her dream.
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