The Warped Hero - A MHA Fanfic

After The Fire

A/N: small warning for the middle part. ALSO IMPORTANT: the dialogue with underlined stuff /italics means they're talking in different languages.

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Yoki kept running his hand through his hair, looking between Kija and his food. He'd been like that since she got home with the police officer, already having been freaking out when he'd gotten the call from the school telling the students families what had happened.

Kija only blew on her soup, avoiding her brother's watchful stare as her hands shook slightly when she raised her spoon. The two continued eating in stubborn silence.

Finally, Yoki sighed, "You wanna talk about it?"

"No." Kija answered. She didn't let any of her nerves show in her voice.

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not in the mood."

Yoki pursed his lips, "You sure?"

Kija glanced up at her brother. Yes, she saw he was worried, and with good reason. But she didn't want to talk about it. Even if he was back, even if she was getting flashes of her childhood from him, even if she had to clench her fists to stop shaking in the car ride over.

She was fine.

"Really, I'm okay."

The hand imprints on her arms from how much she'd been rubbing at them didn't mean a thing. Kija's trembling fingers as she'd had to text Yoki she was safe weren't relevant. Her growing urge to throw up wasn't important. She could handle this.

No matter how many times her memory tried to show her the horrors it wouldn't work. Her old screams echoing in her head, the sensation of blood dripping down her, and the fear that she'd just assumed was everyone's main emotion. Kija could handle it.

But she couldn't.

She didn't see the sweat dripping down her face, the sporadic look in her eyes, or the twitching way she clung to her arms and furiously scratched. But Yoki saw it all. It formed a knot in his stomach and his throat became scratchy, he hadn't seen Kija like this for years.

Wavering, unsure, cracked.

Broken.

He wasn't going to stand by and let his sister take her fear and lock it up until it burst out of its hiding place, uglier than ever before.

"Kija."

Kija jolted as she felt Yoki place a hand on her shoulder. Her soup sloshed from the sudden movement and Yoki's eyes clouded with worry.

The girl shook her head, pushing herself away from the table. "I-I-I'm fine." The reality of the situation had only hit her as she was on her way home. Sweat stains appeared on her shirt and her hands rubbed at her arms.

But whether Kija liked it or not, her terror was coming crashing down on her.

"No, you're not." Yoki pulled his chair over to sit next to Kija.

His face softened as he saw the toll this was taking on her. He clenched his fists; she'd been doing so well. It'd been hell when he first adopted her, sure he'd been getting help with finances and his boss had been considerate to let him work from home more. But Kija'd been so...lost.

That hopeless look in her eyes, the scars he'd had to help put ointment on, how she never cried out in pain when he knew it stung. She'd just sat there and look at her food too, and she ate with her hands, having never even seen utensils.

Then there was the fact that she couldn't read and spoke half Japanese, half English and parts of other languages together like they were one. It'd broken his heart that this was all she knew.