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“That girl is cursed!” Overhaul spat, pressing both of his hands to the ground. No, not hands. They could hardly be considered more than large, grotesque masses of flesh at this point. “If you keep carrying her like that, you’ll be annihilated. There’s no way to stop her cursed quirk other than to disassemble her, so hand her over!”
Eri trembled, clutching onto the boy more tightly. The red cape tying her to the boy’s back was the only thing that kept her from running to Overhaul. It was something that had been ingrained in her over time: to obey his commands.
But despite the pained crease in the boy’s brow, he remained undeterred. His eyes glowed a fierce green in his resolve. “Never!”
As soon as that word left the boy’s mouth, the ground twisted and formed spikes of concrete that shot forwards. The boy jumped to the side, a spike barely managing to graze his ankle, but the wound it caused disappeared instantly.
“You keep rewinding my injuries before I can even feel the pain…” he muttered. Then his voice increased in volume. “Your quirk is such a blessing, Eri-chan!”
A blessing… Eri’s eyes widened as the boy began crackling with vibrant green-blue energy.
“As long as I keep using my quirk at full power, then I should be fine,” he told her with a wide smile. It was a kind smile. Eri’s curse burned brighter as she wondered why he directed that kindness towards someone like her.
This time, when more spikes sprouted up to attack, the boy easily smashed through them with incredible speed. Soon, the world became nothing but an indistinguishable blur. One moment, there were enormous chunks of debris getting torn to shreds on the ground, and then suddenly she was in the sky, flying. The buildings that once towered over her looked no bigger than the doll houses that Overhaul’s subordinates often bought her.
The boy had taken Overhaul into the air with them, too. Raising his arm above their heads, fist clenched, the boy glared down at the sprawling form of the yakuza mastermind.
Eri froze as Overhaul returned the stare. His yellow eyes seemed to be popping out of his skull as he pushed all the hatred he felt into them. His gaze flickered to her briefly, condensing into rage as if to say ‘This is all your fault.’
Not even a second later, the boy sent a super-powered punch straight into the villain’s face. The momentum sent them down, down, down, until they impacted the ground heavily. Overhaul’s eyes rolled into the back of his head as the street fractured around them, body no longer moving to attack.
After confirming that his opponent had been rendered unconscious, the boy fell down to one knee, breathing heavily.
No.
Eri felt something prick the corners of her eyes as her curse flashed, rolling off her body in menacing waves of golden light. It was somehow even stronger than before.
She couldn’t stop it.
“I– I can’t stop,” she whispered, remembering the boy’s kind embrace when she stumbled into him the first time. His kind smile. “Please, I can’t–”
“It’s alright,” the boy ground out, gripping his chest as if that would alleviate the pain of being ripped apart from the inside. “I’ll never let you go, Eri-chan. Never again.”
Eri tried to speak, but for some reason, a hard lump had formed in her throat. Her lips wobbled. She couldn’t get the words out.
Each and every action you take… kills people.
Overhaul’s voice echoed in her mind. He never failed to remind her of the horrors of her power, her curse. It was the reason why her father had died. It was the reason why she had to obey Overhaul–so that she wouldn’t lose control again, so that she wouldn’t kill someone close to her again.
Let me go, she wanted to say as the boy started to fall over. I don’t want you to die too.
People were yelling, but Eri could not make out the words past the pounding in her ears. The cape loosened around her as the boy became smaller. She felt the pressure of concrete not long after, heart beating too fast, mouth too dry, limbs too weak to stand up and move.
Eventually, mercifully, her curse stopped working. She feverishly tried to grab onto the kind boy, wanting to make sure he was okay, fingers curling around the fabric of his uniform.
It was empty.
Overhaul was right.
Something warm and foreign trickled down her cheeks as she sifted through the bundle of fabric, frantically searching for the boy that had refused to give up on her, not wanting to give up on him either. Even though she knew it was futile.
This was all her fault. She was not blessed. A blessed person would not cause people to vanish with a single touch.
Then a finger lightly tapped her on the shoulder. Eri blinked, looking around. She saw a man with red, tired eyes watching her intently from the sidelines, a girl next to him supporting his head, and a few others mixed in the small crowd before her gaze finally settled on the person who had approached her. She was too exhausted to stop the newcomer from lifting her up and carrying her towards a vehicle with flashing lights.
But as the distance between her and the uniform grew, Eri realized that she did not know the name of the boy who once wore it.
She really was cursed.