𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬, 𝐛𝐧𝐡𝐚 𝐯𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬

[33]

Two of hearts

33

___

Y/n stood amid the dense woods, surrounded by towering trees that seemed to whisper the secrets of the forest. In front of her, the campfire's embers flickered dimly, a testament to the remnants of its former warmth. Her task was clear: reignite the dwindling flames and turn them into a roaring fire, and then she could work with the fire as she so pleased.

The air was thick with the earthy scent of pine, and a cool breeze rustled through the leaves overhead. Y/n took a deep breath, trying to centre herself before attempting the task at hand. Her fingers hovered over the smouldering embers, their glow barely illuminating the darkened surroundings.

"C'mon... just work."

With a determined expression, she concentrated on the dimly lit embers. The rhythmic dance of her fingers began, a delicate ballet aimed at coaxing life back into the dying fire. She could feel the heat building at her fingertips, but frustration gnawed at her as the flames remained stubbornly subdued.

The stiffness in her fingers grew more pronounced, a side effect of the intricate manipulation she was attempting. She winced as cramps threatened to overtake her hands, a reminder of the fine balance she needed to strike. Y/n gritted her teeth, pushing through the discomfort with the tenacity that defined her.

The woods around her seemed to hold their breath, the only sounds being the crackling of embers and the occasional call of a distant bird. She felt the pressure to succeed, not just for herself but for everyone who didn't believe she was capable.

Her fingers, now stiff and cramped from repeated attempts, hovered over the embers like a conductor before a reluctant orchestra. With each failed attempt, her patience waned, and the forest seemed to close in around her, amplifying her frustration.

"I- I can't fucking do this right now."

In a moment of sheer exasperation, Y/n let out a primal yell, a raw expression of the anger bubbling within her. She kicked a nearby rock, sending it clattering into the darkness. The outburst echoed through the silent woods, leaving a momentary stillness in its wake.

To her surprise, as the echoes subsided, the embers responded with an audible crackle. Y/n's eyes widened as the fire responded to the turmoil within her. Anger, the very emotion that fuelled her frustration, had ignited a spark within the embers. A mirthless chuckle escaped her lips as the realization washed over her. How could she forget such a fundamental aspect of her quirk?

As the campfire flickered and danced in response to Y/n's emotional outburst, a realization dawned on her – a stark reminder that her quirk, like a living entity, mirrored the ebb and flow of her emotions. She had always known this connection, an unspoken dialogue between her and the flames, but recent events had momentarily overshadowed that understanding.

In the silent aftermath of her frustration-fuelled outburst, Y/n stood before the crackling fire, the warmth seeping into her bones. The dancing flames served as a poignant reminder that, to master her quirk, she needed more than raw power – she required control.

The shadows cast by the dancing flames played on her face, emphasizing the furrowed brow as she contemplated the revelation. The essence of her quirk lay not just in its destructive potential but in the delicate balance she needed to maintain between emotion and restraint.

Y/n meticulously set up a range of targets at varying distances, each demanding a different level of precision. As she prepared to execute her training, the air in the secluded woods felt charged with anticipation. Her goal was clear – accurately project flames to hit each target without wreaking havoc on the surroundings.