Wolf Teeth

Prologue

   Harper paced his small room, biting his nails and mumbling in a rush. “Quirk? I have it. Is there such thing as quirk removal?” He was almost dangerously nervous about his quirk. Even at five, he knew the gravity of the situation.
   
    He knew that his parents would freak, perhaps throw a tantrum. Kick him out, worst-case scenario. His parents hated quirks. Both being quirkless themselves, they really didn’t understand how important they had become to society. And if they figured out that their own son had a quirk…

    But it was better to tell them and have to leave than to keep it a secret until he couldn’t anymore. And even as a child, still, he knew that it wouldn’t be kept for long.

    Harper treaded lightly down the stairs. Who knew if his dad was home. He hoped not. Mom was easier to deal with, despite how much the boy hated it when she cried. With Dad, he had to deal with disapproving stares, “are you sure?” comments, and the way that his face blushed when he got in a tizzy.

He reached the landing of the stairs, his breath hitching before it could enter his lungs every time he took a breath. Step, step, step. He walked down the hall.

Step, step, step. He walked into the kitchen, where his father was cooking dinner and his mother was singing Disney songs. Harper almost abandoned ship right there, freezing and getting ready to bolt back up the stairs under his blankets.

But he didn’t.

“Mom, Dad, something’s happening to me. Something that I don’t know if you’ll like…” Harper almost got a kitchen knife and cut himself open right then and there. His dad looked like a statue, his mom stopped the music.

Mom smiled. Her face was already weathering away, but it held a kindness that every mothers did. “We won’t judge you for anything, Harp. Go ahead.” Somehow, that didn’t reassure the brunette at all.

Harper tripped and stumbled as he struggled to get the words out. “I-I-I… I have a quirk, Mom.”

His mom gasped. His father dropped his spatula, his face coloring red. “You… you what? Can you repeat that, Harper?” His fury began to play along his face like a piano, his veins beginning to throb in his temples. The food was beginning to burn, but he paid no mind.

“I-I have a quirk. It’s not a joke this time.” Harper showed his sharper teeth and the darker coloration of his fingernails. With a sick snap, his ears and tail popped into view, which made him groan in pain. The extension of his spine took a moment to absorb back into his body, but his ears on the side of his head didn’t go away.

His mother began to sob quietly, horrified at her son, but more horrified at her husband, who was just about to scream in fury.

“GET OUT! GET OUT GET OUT GETOUT—-!” Harper didn’t need to be told twice. He already had his bag packed up by the entry of the kitchen, so he just scooped it up and ran out into the cold before something got thrown at him.

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Harper pushed his legs as fast as they would go, dashing into an alleyway with his duffel bag heavy in his weary arms. You knew this would happen, Harper. It’s your fault that you’re alone now.

Harper didn’t feel the sobs racking his tiny body or the tears rolling down his cheeks until he reached up to fluff up his hair, which was beginning to stick to the sides of his face. “It’s raining…?” His thought shuddered past his lips, and he collapsed onto his duffel bag.

It had two sets of clothes, a pillow, and some scentless soap. He found that ever since he had gotten his quirk, the scented soap that mom used began to hurt his nose whenever he caught a whiff. Mom eventually gave in to his whim of not having scented soap in the bathtub.

That was all that Harper thought that he needed, honestly. It was a good thing that he was a lucky little boy.