Pariah || BNHA OC

Memento Mori

TW: gore.

Murder? He’d dismiss it as an idle threat if he didn't see how the corners of Hokusai’s mouth twitched upwards, or how his body shook like an aggressive dog ready to lash out. Ink dripped from his fingers and pooled on the carpet.

Murderers deserved death. It was simple. Even then, wasn't he going too far? No justice or closure ever came from emotion-fueled revenge. Something like that was hardly the act of a hero.

He had no right to judge him though. Yuta was just as rotten as Riven.

"You're that detective's kid, aren't you? Your Quirk's similar. Face is too." Riven pinched the bridge of his nose and furrowed his brow like he was suffering from a migraine. "Don't you dare blame me for that. All she had to do was stay out of our business, but she kept digging and digging. Her death was her own fault."

Hokusai’s lip trembled. "You tortured her. There was barely anything left to bury. The hell do you mean it was her fault?" Blobs of ink crept forward, latching onto and encasing Riven's body.

Yuta held his tongue. He'd seen the manic smile on Hokusai's face before, in his own reflection years ago. He wouldn't listen if he told him to stop. Not like he wanted to. The bone shard stuck in his thigh gave him an excuse not to stop him physically.

A hand stuck out of the writhing mass, swiping at the liquid and completely erasing any that it touched. The same went for the rest that restrained his limbs and body. Riven doubled over once he was free. Wheezing, he hacked up ink.

An opening, one he wouldn't miss the chance to capitalize on. He flew above the cubicles of the office towards the man. He pulled back right as his hand reached towards him, showering Riven with the coarse dust of his wings.

None of the particles disappeared.

So there was a limit to what he could erase. That much was obvious watching him rub at his eyes. There also had to be a limit to when he could activate his Quirk. Evidence: Yuta didn't lose his leg as soon as his leg connected with his side.

Hovering above the ground to keep off his wounded leg, the strike didn't have the impact he wanted.

More ink tethered Riven's arms, pulling them taut. Completely defenseless. Cords 'n all, Hokusai snatched a monitor off a cubicle desk and smashed it against the side of his head. The man's head recoiled. Right into Yuta's first.

If he was trying to use his Quirk, the nonstop flurry of blows between the two of them didn't give Riven the chance.

Landing another punch, his flesh ripped apart upon contact. Yuta pulled back. Left hand shaking, he looked over the flayed skin. From his knuckles, down to the middle of his fingers, the top layer of skin was gone, exposing the raw layer underneath.

Shaking the blood off, he sucked in a breath from the cool air meeting the exposed and sensitive tissue. "H-Hokusai."

Shock and pain delayed his thoughts. The warning wouldn't be fast enough.

Hokusai was too close. Open. Fingers grazed his forehead. If he hadn't fallen backward out of the way, Yuta had no doubt he'd be missing a chunk of his head. Not too far off from that.

For a split, the missing patch of skin above his eyebrow exposed the Ivory white bone. Blood oozed out, filling the wound and Hokusai's eye as it streamed down his face.

Landing in front of him, the gust from Yuta's wings pushed the fake hero back. Untended files on the nearby desks were launched into the air from the rush. Riven's Quirk erased the few that landed on him.

A muscle spasm in his leg was all the warning Yuta got before it gave out. Fighting only jostled the shard in his leg more. Inside of his boot felt cold and soggy from the amount of blood that had tricked down his leg. The smell of iron clogged his nostrils. Nauseating. It took all of his will not to look at his marred hand. Combined with the pain, seeing it would make him sick. He'd be of no use then.