The Wise Child (BNHA x OC)

24. You Were Wrong

          

           My breath fogged out from me in the cold air. I stood watching my home. No, my house. It was night now. And I still hadn't returned. A part of me knew that the longer I waited the worse his anger would be.

The adrenaline from the fighting had left me I was replaced with a deep seated fear. Thoughts screamed in every which way as I pictured returning. Of entering that horrible place and seeing my father, and seeing his anger, oh his anger, how it burned. And I was so tired. It felt as though an inferno had engulfed me just to have me swallowed once more.

The hours I spent at Miss Megumi's home didn't prepare me at all. It was merely a distraction. And as sweet as it had been, the fallout from eating forbidden fruit was always worse than the rush it gave me.

So, with deep trepidation, I moved.

My legs wobbled, they didn't agree. Not in the slightest. In fact I was shaking so horribly I felt I might get sick. Again. Three times in the last few hours.

But no, I had to keep moving, I had to. Time did not bend to the whims of mere humans, no matter how I longed for it too, and as such I would need to return, and face my father's wrath before it became too great.

Slowly, my footsteps echoed on the concrete opening as I slid my key in, and pushed the door open. My eyes turned in every which direction in fear, before they settled on the kitchen door slightly ajar. A light was on and I could hear the sound of a chair moving.

I braced myself, moving on my own to face my doom. It was better to choose. It made it feel like I was in control, though I so rarely was.

My footsteps were loud in the quiet, and when I entered the kitchen a chill traveled through my bones. My father was sitting, his back turned away from me, a glass in his hand, the deep brown liquid gliding in a circle around the rim.

"Where were you?" he asked, but his voice wasn't angry, it was empty.

I gulped, waiting for him to pounce, "I-I was at Miss Megumi's home." I prepared myself for him to yell, he never liked the bond we had formed.

But he didn't even move. For a moment I wondered if he were a statue. I couldn't help but stare at him, waiting for the telltale signs of his temper. For his shoulders to tighten, his hands to form fists, his eyes to narrow to slits.

None of that happened. Nothing. He simply sat, and stared at his glass.

"You won't be a hero."

His words were tight. Cold. And they withered me. I knew, I knew that was the decision he made. I knew it well. But perhaps part of me had held onto the hope that at seeing my success later, he would see me as being worthy. He would regret his words and take them back.

"Please, I can prove to you-"

"You were never going to be a hero." I stopped. Was he trying to hurt me? Was this his retribution for my insolence? "I never thought that you would. From the beginning I knew you didn't have the soul, the power. You were always weak."

I wanted there to be malice in the way he spoke, so I could perhaps convince myself his words were said from impulsivity. But there wasn't. There was only the stoney truth.

"But I found you could serve another purpose. Your brother lacked motivation. And nothing sparked persistence like rivalry. You were the perfect tool to carve his image. And there you were, offering your skills on a silver platter. I couldn't find it in me to say no."

I gulped. He was lying. He had to be lying.

"That was my mistake. I never should have accepted this. I should have known-" his voice broke, and he crumpled, setting the glass down as hand fell limply against the counter. "I should have known that you weren't strong enough to forge steel. That you would break under the pressure. That in forming his image, you would crumble beneath his strength."

Slowly he turned towards me. His eyes were red. Puffy. And his lips formed a thin line.

"Yae, forgive me. I was so wrong. Please, please, forgive me."

I stood still. I looked at him. And he stared at me. And there was ice in his eyes. And I was so cold.

Before I knew it my legs moved, and I raced up the stairs. Tears clouded my vision, and I could barely breathe. All I knew was that I couldn't stay there. I couldn't keep rotting away beneath this roof. I had to leave, or I would be frozen still, living my days in all the wrong ways.

When I entered my room, I stared, looking at the white walls, the perfectly manicured bed, the way that it all stood so still, so lifeless.

I stormed to my closet and pulled out a suitcase, without thinking I randomly pulled clothes from their hangers and shoved them inside. My hands only stopped at a black jacket in the back. It sat there, staring at me, and for a moment I thought of my brother wearing it. I saw him, with red hair turning white, eyes warm, his smile. A longing hit me and I pulled it close to me, the familiar smell of burning wood hit me and I held it even closer before pulling it on.

I moved to grab the rest of my possessions, before I realized I had nothing left.

          I wanted to crumble, what was I doing?

          Leave. Leave or you never will. You will be
stuck living your life, always in the shadow of your betters. Leave, and make them regret never seeing you. Leave and show them that you are stronger than they ever could have realized. You are more than a shadow. You are the sun that makes them.

          I pulled myself up, and before I could regret anything, I stormed down the stairs.
My eyes fell on the figure of my father in the kitchen. Frozen. Staring at nothing. I was supposed to remember all those moments I had shared with him, the moments where we knew each other, when no one else could.

But all I saw was a broken man, who destroyed things to make them see the same pain.
I rushed out the door before he could stop me, and Moved down the steps of the house, each one taking me farther and farther from what I knew.

I had made it down the street, only fifteen steps, before I saw blue in the corner of my eyes. I turned and looked, and realized that my father's eyes had met mine through the darkness. And they stared at me, asking a silent question.

Forgiveness. They wanted forgiveness.

I stared back, and I found that I had none left.

"Go away!" I screamed, and I felt my voice go hoarse with the effort. "I won't! You ruined me! You made me think I was something! But you burned me to the cinders and grinned at my ashes, and I will never forgive you!"

My fingers tore their way through my hair and I felt hot tears burning my face. It felt so loud. I wanted the world to be quiet. I wanted the world to go away. I wanted it all to stop. I just needed it to stop.

I forced my eyes open and my father's gaze had left. It was never there to begin with.

Slowly, I went to the only place in this horrible world where it felt quiet.

I couldn't remember the steps I took to get there, or how cold the wind felt, or how the voices would scream as I moved. All I knew was when the green door to Miss Megumi's home opened, and her eyes went wide with concern, I was home.

"You once told me I was kind," the words echoed from my lips, as they knew them well.

"You were wrong."