❝𝘿𝘼𝙍𝙇𝙄𝙉𝙂, 𝙔𝙊𝙐𝙍𝙀 𝘼𝙎 𝘿𝙀𝘼𝘿 𝘼𝙎 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘿𝘼𝙔 𝙄𝙎 𝙇𝙊𝙉𝙂. ❞
↣ A PARADOX IN WHICH
a girl rises and falls
like the Empire of Rome,
knowing not of
what she has gained,
but instead of what
she has los...
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『 Chapter 26 』
⤐ ♤ « 〚♞〛 » ♤ ⬷
Hate ran deep in her bones and winded through her marrow. It was hard to tell where the resentment started and where she ended. Sharp and hot when heat bubbles up underneath her skin, blazing froth from the sea when it washed up against her shoes, everything in the district of Hosu made her want to rupture.
She hates this city, she hates its people, she hates its heroes and those who respect them, she hates its sky and it's foamy clouds, she hates its twisting skyscrapers and reflecting windows, she hates its streets and its signs, its restaurants and businesses, she hates its waterline, she hates its sunset over the horizon here, she hates its scent of cherry in the air, she hates herself.
The ire flows through her like molten concrete. With time it cracks and becomes more volatile, long and winding fissures and imperfections are glanced over without a second thought. Years pass and it only gets worse, melting like liquid under the presence of the sun whilst its integrity slips past the point of return. While it may be covered over with a new layer, the deficiencies never leave, the anger raw and everlasting, profound and cavernous.
Just being in Hosu leaves her red in the face, screaming in the night into her pillow, unable to get a good night's rest. When anyone talks to her she desires to spit in their face in deep loathing to leave her alone, even the citizens she was guided to watch over and protect. Her muscles are always tense and her knuckles blanch with any movement.
The unsettling feeling that resides in her stomach has become second nature during the internship. No matter how hard Manual tried to get her attention, trying to teach her and guide her as a hero, she was just always so on edge. She would spend more time grumbling to herself rather than listening to what he had to say. On more than one occasion she silently hoped that her behavior wouldn't be reported back to Aizawa, but then again, she didn't care.
She felt physically ill. No matter how much or how little food she ate her stomach always twisted into knots, unable to be satiated. Her head would swim with migraines and her focus wouldn't be able to center on anything for an extended period of time. When they would patrol on the east side of the city the feeling grew worse, the closer she was to the pier the more silent she got and the more quivering her hands did.
There is nothing about this place that she liked. With every turn she saw something that reminded her of the accident, whether it would be a poster in the window reminiscing on a lost family member or the streetlights above the crosswalks, everything jump started her memory. Oh, what would she give to watch this place burn to the ground in a shrouded twister of porcelain flames with violet hues? Caused by nothing except her own hands and her vehement desires.
