Colors in the Dark

[1] Her

Life had passed by both painfully slowly and incredibly quickly for Ayami. She spent multiple years hopping between foster homes and the orphanage, where Mother Kaibutsu had indeed made her life even more miserable.

And each time Torment took effect, the voices in Ayami's head disappeared and she was forced to see visions of blood and death and feel terror around her, unable to move as the woman watched. Whenever it'd let up and the voices would return, one of the spirits would try to take control and seek revenge, but then Ayami would pass out, alone in the locked cell.

She shook, Why am I thinking about my past now? After everything that happened, and I'm caring for myself now, my biggest worry should be getting bread!

"It's not a crime to remember your roots, Ayami," Deimos reminded her softly. "But yes, we should get bread."

Sighing, the now-fifteen-year-old girl ran a worn brush through her ginger hair and made sure the thin scars on her torso were covered by her oversized sweater. It was itchy and definitely not the right size, but she was hardly able to rent her apartment and buy food, so she didn't complain about what she'd been donated after that.

Ayami locked the door behind her, carrying a bag and enough money to buy food for the next few days.

She was too old to go to any public school, and she didn't have nearly enough funds to afford any kind of decent high schooling.

Some of her foster families had taught her how to write and sent her to some classes, but she never stayed long enough to get a full education.

It was hard to get started once she was on her own, but it was freeing. Ayami worked where she could to survive, though she had already been fired from a few places thanks to her quirk going off at the slightest jab, or when a villain would attack and she'd be rushed off to fight it.

The term "vigilante" kept popping up alongside her, since that's what someone like her was. Someone who stopped (or did) crime without their hero licence, albeit Ayami was doing so unwillingly. She loved the idea of saving people, but with the way her quirk worked... it wasn't up to her to to save them or not, but the spirits that had manifested from her past and took control of her.

But there was no way she could become a hero. After all, she was "the little demon", the orphan with the uncontrollable quirk, the kid who was in and out of foster homes for years, told the same thing over and over.

"Ayami? Ayami! Seriously girl, please don't go down that negative spiral again!" That voice was undeniably violet.

"Sorry, Brizo," Ayami huffed as she walked down the crowded street, not near any one person long enough for them to question why she was speaking to herself. Great prophetic goddess, guardian of sailors; hah. More like the mom of the voices in my head.

The purple spirit simply hummed in response as they walked down to the convenience store. It was peaceful, and she bought a loaf of bread, a box of cereal, and a few other things before heading to the register to check out, which went over smoothly.

"I've seen you around a few times before, but what are those things hovering around your head? The little colorful wisps?" A voice interrupted Ayami's train of thought, and she realized the question was directed at her.

"Oh, uh, these? Th-they're part of my quirk, is all." Before the clerk could respond, she turned and booked it toward the exit, thankful that she had already stuffed her groceries in her bag and paid before she bolted.