oblivioni traditae | bnha

十三

[12090519]

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Nighthawk

[n] a nocturnal bird of the subfamily Chordeilinae within the nightjar family Caprimulgidae that is native to the Western Hemisphere

see also; 

[n] a reassuring thought that only seems to strike you late at night (ex: an overdue task, a nagging guilt) that circles high overhead during the day and pecks the back of your mind while you try to sleep. You can successfully ignore it for weeks, only to feel it's presence hovering outside the window passing the time by quietly building a nest as it waits for you to finish your coffee. 

—the dictionary of obscure sorrows&wikipedia

IT IS NIGHTTIME AGAIN AFTER MIMI LEAVES AND ROKKU RETURNS WHEN [Y/N] FINALLY DECIDES that it is time for her to listen to the surprisingly good advice that Bakugo gave her. It is not a crime to do research, much less about yourself. She was doing nothing wrong and thus, hypothetically, had nothing to fear.

So why were her hands shaking so much?

"One hour." [y/n] whispered to herself. 

Starting now. 

The race to find the answers had commenced! She flipped open her laptop, fingers a blur as she hurriedly typed in her password. After pausing for a second, [y/n] then changed it, put a sticky note over the small camera, and went along on her merry way. Perhaps she was being paranoid, but [y/n] had a gut feeling that she absolutely could not, under any circumstance, let Rokku know that she was poking around. 

[y/n] grimaced as she imagined the conversation that would ensue should the older woman find out. 

"You've never been interested in your malady before, so why now?" imaginary Rokku asked, mouth flapping up and down. For some reason, she seemed like a muppet with button eyes and a felt body. 

Imaginary [y/n] struggled to find an explanation that wasn't "oh, some boy I met the other night behind your back while you were sleeping told me that I was basically a coward and a pathetic human being for not even trying to cure or find out more about this disease of mine. And, after some deliberation, I thought that it couldn't hurt to try and at least know more about this beyond what little details you've told me?"

Yeah no, that would not end well. 

She shivered, and scoured the web, wading through rivers of text and pictures. [y/n] pressed on, picking apart website upon website, eyes scanning articles and medical experiments. Stalks of plants swaying in the wind, dispersing their pollen to the four corners of the world. Were the small grains of pollen, capsules of life accidentally inhaled into the airways where they didn't belong, the culprit of her condition? Or were the guilty parties dust mites or asthma? 

The girl scratched her head. Eyes watched as the screen faded away to black despite still being at a stable 56% of power. She sighed, her lungs deflating as she sank back into her chair. That was it. One hour of research, and nothing had turned up. Sure there were cases that seemed to be alike, or similar, but none were an exact match.