SSD VI: Remus

163. In the Carriage

Shorter chapter today but no less crucial.

If you're reading this while on the train, my recommendation to you is don't, wait until you're wherever you're going. Love you all! Enjoy!

Sat in one of those folding seats that faced the centre of the train, she leaned against Hizashi, and mentally prepared herself for the day.

It was going to be non-stop travel. They'd spent last night holed up at UA, Silver blindfolded the whole way. She wasn't blindfolded now, but she would be later. They were planning to give her noise-cancelling headphones too, leaving her with as few senses as possible. It was going to be terrifying, but it was the safest option.

She was pretty sure the only reason she wasn't blind and deaf right now was because they were taking her in completely the wrong direction in order to throw Virgil off if he tried to find her. But that was only a theory.

Hizashi was staying with her the whole time. He'd promised her that this morning. He wasn't going to leave her alone for a moment of this.

Shouta had gone ahead to secure the safe house she was going to be living in for however long, making sure there were no signs of the whereabouts of said safe house that Silver would be able to see once she got inside. Hitoshi and Eri were staying at UA. The further from her they were, the safer they'd be.

She missed them already.

The train carriage wasn't busy. They'd purposefully avoided rush hour to ensure that. It was nice that it wasn't dead silent either though.

Silver was about to spend what could be a long time trapped in a single room, interacting with only a set few. Which she'd essentially been doing for too long already. So, while she wasn't exactly interacting with them, it was nice to see some other people while she still could.

Toy in hand, a little boy whizzed into the train, his exasperated mother a few steps behind, a twig in her curly hair as she tried to keep up with her child. Her child who'd leapt up into the seat beside Silver.

His mother took one look, and Silver witnessed the exact moment it clicked that Silver was Quirkless. The woman's nose wrinkled, and she attempted to pull her son away, tugging him towards some free seats further down the train. He grabbed hold of the bar between him and Silver and howled.

As a completely mature person who wasn't at all petty, Silver did not snicker at the embarrassment on the woman's face as several train-goers stared at her and her son. It was with a glare to Silver, and a sigh, that the woman sat beside her son.

"Do you like heroes?" the boy asked his seat neighbour, voice loud enough to carry through the whole carriage in his excitement.

"You know we have to use our inside voices. And we don't talk to strangers," the woman chastised.

The boy apologised, bringing his legs up so he looked a little smaller than he was. He couldn't be much older than four or five, his quirk probably a recent addition to their daily lives judging by the haphazard holes cut into his clothes to make way for gem-like protrusions along his skin. Those gems reflected the day's sunlight, casting rainbows on the walls. "Do you like heroes?" the boy whispered, but it wasn't until he tugged Silver's sleeve that she realised he was asking her again.

"What did I just say?" his mother demanded, voice a quiet hiss that drew as much attention as a shout would've.

"But how do I make friends if I can't talk to strangers?" the boy complained. Silver was really starting to like this kid. "So," he started, turning back to Silver, "you like heroes?"

Persistent kid. Good for him. Silver nodded, a smile warning her face. "They're pretty cool," she said. "Do you have a favourite hero?"

"I like lots and lots and lots of heroes," he told her. "There are so many! Some of them fly, and they dig, and-and some of them look really pretty! Hawks' wings look so pretty!"

He stumbled over his words a lot, the way all kids did. It was hard to keep track of his conversation with all the tangents he went down, but she got enough of a gist of what he was saying that she could respond here and there. He looked so overjoyed whenever she said even the smallest thing, encouraging him to keep going, his pale eyes glimmering in the light.

"Do you have a favourite hero?"

Silver made a show of really thinking about it. "I think my favourite hero has to be Present Mic," she said, taking far too much joy in the way her pa choked on nothing but air beside her. "Don't get me wrong, Hawks is pretty cool, and you made some really good points about how awesome he is. But Present Mic is cooler." Hopefully nobody would tell Keigo she said that. Who was she kidding? Hizashi was totally telling Keigo that the first chance he got.

"No," the little boy said firmly, patting her shoulder. "You're wrong."

She barely kept herself from laughing at the solemn look on his face.

"Hawks is way cooler than Present Mic."

"Hey." His mother took him by the shoulder, making him face her. "We respect other people's opinions," she told him.

"But, Mummy, her opinion is wrong!"

While mother and son shared a disagreement, Silver leaned over to Hizashi. "Well I think his opinion is wrong. I've met Present Mic and Hawks, so my opinion is definitely more trustworthy."

"Well I think Quirkless is the coolest, personally."

She rolled her eyes, unable to hide the smile on her face.

The train was travelling in a gentle curve at the moment and her eyes happened to fall on the window perfectly placed on the other side of the train. That was the only reason she had any warning. It couldn't have been planned. Luck of the draw, that was all.

There wasn't time to shout, wasn't time to do much of anything. Hizashi was on her left but the little boy was on her right.

She wanted to help Hizashi. Her pa wasn't as lucky as her, he was looking at her still, leaned over so he could talk without being overheard.

But Hizashi was an experienced hero who could take care of himself. A kid was just a kid. That little boy arguing with his mum because he disagreed with Silver.

With more time, with more thought, maybe she could've grabbed both of them. She didn't have more time. She didn't have more thought. She had a split-second. Hesitation meant two potential deaths instead of one.

Silver reached out, pulling his body towards her and grabbing the pole in front of her just in time.

The world rocked, and it would never be the same again.