Pariah || BNHA OC

Stuck in Limbo

Everything burned around Yuta.

Shimmering, golden sparks drifted through the air like dust. Each restless flitter of his wings sent more out. They erupted wherever they fell, spreading the blaze to the surrounding furniture. The scent of ignited wood and fabric choked him. Or maybe it was the ashes of the corpse clinging to him that clogged his throat and lungs.

They were both on their knees amid swirling flames. The scorched husk's arms were wrapped around him in an embrace.

Out of everything, that sickened him the most.

The remaining skin that wasn't charred resembled melted wax. Yuta swallowed down the bitterness burning his throat. He looked away from remnants of the corpse's wings and antennae before the need to retch overwhelmed him.

Yuta knew who she was—who she used to be. Why couldn't he remember what she looked like?

A handful of memories glimmered in the back of his mind. Her eyes were always glossed over with apathy whenever she saw him. The way she carried herself was always slow and labored, like an invisible burden weighed down on her. Yuta barely remembered all of it. There was one memory clearer than the rest. He remembered how she never smiled.

The woman in the singed portraits hanging off the wall looked nothing like the woman in his memory. There was a smile on her face. Same went for the man next to her.

Yuta wasn't in any of the pictures.

That was why they were happy back then.

That was what he stole from them.

His lungs worked against him, pushing out whatever measly amount of air sucked in before he could steady himself. Like they were pushing through mud, his limbs were sluggish and unresponsive. Enough struggling jostled the corpse off. His mom's body crumbled into a plume of ash against the floor.

Yuta clawed at his skin, scraping away at the soot covering his hands.

It wouldn't get off.

He couldn't get it off.

He'd never get it off.

"You're alive." That voice... It made his body go rigid.

He looked up at the man standing in front of him. The inferno hadn't left him near unrecognizable like his mom. Yuta wished it did so he would have to see the look in his eyes. It was always the same. His father was always ashamed of him.

"You're still alive." It wasn't a statement but a question. It was disbelief.

After everything he caused, why didn't someone as worthless as him burn away too?

Why did he save him?

He awoke to the hum of ceiling lights and a tingling sensation that numbed his hands. The room was too bright, amplified even more by the white ceiling and walls.

There were voices in the background, close to him. They sounded muffled like his head was under water.

Vision blurred, Yuta couldn't make out the faces of the two people standing over him. He blinked. It didn't help.

The gown he wore and the bed underneath him felt like sandpaper against his skin.

Everything was too much.

"I can't..." His chest heaved, but he still felt like he was suffocating. Yuta wasn't sure there was any oxygen in his blood. The tingling in both his hands remained even as he shook them out.

"Yuta?" One of the voices again, clearer. One of the people next to him took his hand into theirs. "If you can hear me, try counting to one-hundred. It'll help."