King || BNHA • T. Shouto

iv. origin | part 2

warnings: teenage pregnancy; early motherhood; mentions, implications & mild descriptions of child abuse; implied human & child trafficking; implied torture (if you squint); death; overall dark themes.

Please heed the warnings. This chapter will be the last concerning of Kaze's origin. Starting next chapter, she will be properly introduced with our beloved characters and things will proceed lighter compared to the first four chapters of this fic. However, please expect that origins such as Kaze's and the siblings leave life-long effects. As such, expect douses of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorders.

A certain hero of ours appears at the end of this chapter :)

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"Keep that smile, kid."
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Shibata Riku gingerly pushed the door shut with the pads of his fingers, a slight tremor rolling down the length of his arms as a lick of a wind teased around his ankle; faint and fleeting, but for someone who was well aware of what that wind can do—has seen what that wind can do that defies possibilities—he was wary in his approach. A feeling he was ashamed to harbor.

However, that didn't stop the churn of worry as he watched his only daughter sit in the middle of her bed, spine bowed and head lowered, yet even behind the thick curtain of her endless black tresses (a trait she had gotten from her mother), Riku can see the twist of defiance in her scowl. Dashed by guilt, maybe, but she knew what was going to happen. Why he was here and why he was careful.

It was best to get this over with.

"Sweetheart," he started, a sigh stuck in his throat as he shuffled closer towards the edge of her bed. "What happened today?"

She huffed, tongue in her cheek. "Mama told you already."

Riku was stunned, candy red eyes wide with surprise at the snark in his daughter's tone. He didn't approve of it, and while his wife did lay out the story of this afternoon's happenings, he at least wanted to know from his daughter's perspective.

"Fix that tone, young lady." Riku narrowed his eyes, chest straining against his blue dress shirt. "I want to know why your mother is severely disappointed in you today and why our next-door neighbor's been complaining about their children being hurt."

That last word must have triggered, because no sooner did it fell from his lips, his daughter snapped her gaze up at him, face flushed and brows knitting deeper, but it was the clear betrayal in her eyes that Riku found himself inwardly shrinking back in shame.

What was he even doing?

"You believe them, papa? Why? I didn't hurt them!" She wrinkled her nose, stubborn to keep the tears at bay. "I was being really, really careful! I moved out of the way, I promise! I would never hurt them."

The child clawed at the sheets of her bed, desperate. Riku could see that—see the truth in her gaze and hear it dripping from her tone, but he could feel the wind ruffle his hair and he noticed then that her window was open.

He withered.

Shibata Riku was no fool. His daughter was powerful. A prodigy who could wield her quirk to a feat unlike anything nor anyone he has ever seen before, especially at her age. Though admittedly, he was embarrassed to admit that he—along with his wife—had mistaken his daughter's wind-wielding quirk to just mere flying before. If it weren't for those agents from the Quirk Development Department, he would have been none the wiser. But now he was and the signs had never been more obvious to him. The danger seemed far greater now, imminent as his daughter grew stronger each day.