Forced to Tell

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The evening is... relatively bland.
Aoi lets you control the TV, because she's busy on her laptop, taking phone calls all throughout the evening, and admittedly comes back looking more and more stressed every time.
Whenever you ask her about it, she does what Keigo always does, putting on a fake smile, all teeth and closed eyes, and tells you everything's fine, just a few injuries on the field.
You assume that because she hadn't told you anything specifically about Keigo, that he hadn't sustained any injuries himself.

The later into the evening it gets, the longer the phone calls and the more stressed you can see Aoi getting, her blonde hair getting more and more messy the more she runs her hands through it out of the sight of you.
You eventually decide to duck away out of her space, choosing to sit in the blank, white room that you were temporarily living in, laying on your bed and scrolling through your phone idly.
It was a little boring, but felt less stressful than being in her space while she was clearly moments from a stress-induced breakdown.

It makes you think about how much of a bitch Rai had been, though. If this was what it was like every day, then you could imagine that would definitely stress you out enough to make you a little cold towards other people, too.
You hadn't heard back from Keigo all afternoon or evening, either, which was making you feel a little on edge too. Even if he was busy at work, he always made time to reply to you, even if it was one of those stupid faces he'd send instead of just sending an emoji.

You must fall asleep at some point, because you wake up with a start as fingers dig into your wings, close to the center of your back. Close enough to make your stomach tingle again like it had when Hitoshi had accidentally touched you there, and it makes a strangled noise leave you, sounding something halfway between a moan and a squeak of surprise.
The fingers tighten even more, and then there's sudden searing pain rocking through your wings, but there's a grunt of disgust in response.

"Why do I always get the freaks?" An unfamiliar male voice asks sourly from behind you. "Up. Out."

You hiss in pain instead of giving whoever it was the reward of a show of just how much your wings hurt.
A rude awakening for sure, and you still haven't quite wrapped your head around what the fuck is quite happening just yet.

"Kinda hard to get up when I have a lardass sat on top of me." You quip.

After all, if someone capable of breaking into a HSPC building and hurting you was on top of you, you were as good as dead anyway.

"Fucking brat." Is the response, earning you fingers tight in your hair, pulling you up with brute force.

You bite back the urge to cry out in pain, your eyes water instantly in reaction to the pain, though, annoyingly. You don't even get a good look at the trespasser before being shoved in the direction of the door.
You stumble initially, your feet being heavy and uncoordinated underneath you, and you're hyper aware of your wings dragging behind you, any attempt at trying to lift them so the feathers aren't dragging against the floor completely futile as pain makes itself incredibly obvious whenever you try.
Broken wings again. Except this time there was no recovery girl, and likely no hospital trip to get it fixed.

You're pushed back along into the living area, where Aoi is straining against quirk-nullifying cuffs, forced chest-first to the floor by a large, muscular man littered in scars who's resting his feet on her back, his ankles crossed, as though she's some kind of footstool.
You get pushed hard enough to land painfully on your front too, next to Aoi, earning a low chuckle from the huge man weighing her down.

"This one's trouble." The guy that'd been shoving you announces as you push yourself back up.

"Y/N." Aoi says, squirming more. "Just comply."

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