space heater
x.0

The sky is breathing tonight, Vivian thinks. She eyes the twinkling stars and imagines their voices. Come back to us, they whisper. It's soft, quiet. Hints of a honeyed tone seep through, filling her head as if it were a jar and warmth floods through her despite the chilly night.

It isn't rational to be up at this hour. She should be curled in bed with her space heater on full blast, but instead, she's out here giving voices to lights in the sky. Trying to reach her tanned, rough hands up to help shape the constellations.

Her hands provide a pillow for her head instead as she sighs. God, she was tired.

The grass tickles her neck and makes her huff a small laugh. Maybe she likes the stars because they feel free, billions of miles away; yet they still shine their light enough to reach Earth, content just to be. It's amazing to even think about it.

Though the sight is a little ruined by the dim streetlight a few meters away from her. The yellowed light seems blinding from where she's made her spot in the front yard, it obscures the sight of the world beyond. Just like that, the mood drops. The sudden change is enough to make anyone receive whiplash.

The damp grass presses against her skin through her shirt and she shivers in discomfort. Ugh.

It's been stormy the past few days, the sidewalks were caked with black dirt that never seems to wash away. The air is clear and crisp, it makes it easy for her to breathe. So while the air was clean, everything else was not. She'll have to go scan for worms on the concrete walk areas and put them back into the grass later.

The crunch of footsteps grabs Vivian's attention fast. Immediately she winces, only one person would be idiotic enough to be up this late-or would it be early?

"Y'know you can't just come out here every time you have a nightmare, right?" Jamie asks. His voice is the epitome of condescending, tilted and raising in octave as if he were actually asking a question.

But ah, yes. It reminds her of why she's out here in the first place. A dream that felt so vivid that she could've sworn she was really there. A place filled with battle cries and riots, with a tattered blue cape edged with blood. She can still feel the phantom fabric weaving between her calloused fingers.

Jamie simply crouches right above her head and stares down at her. Vivian doesn't bother withholding her scoff.

"Yet you decide to come out to tell me this anyway."

It really wasn't necessary for him to come out here at all. There is no point to prove, nothing to gain. She tilts her head to get a look at her older brother.

His bleached hair was tousled and his face seems empty without his octagonal glasses to frame it. Jamie is still in his pajamas, a simple shirt and sweats and-God, was he wearing socks out in damp grass? What kind of horseshit is he on?

"Get your ass inside, it's almost 5 AM. You have the stuff to do today, right?" Jamie scolds and shakes his head. Wow, what a gentleman. A true saint, that guy. Such heart, much great-

"Stop being condescending to me in your head."

A few seconds pass in silence before he grabs her upper arm and yanks hard enough to get her to fly upwards a good distance. Her feet flail out in an attempt to dig her heels into the ground. Ow, ow, ow what the f-

"You're taking too long."

Ah.

Before long she's back inside. The AC billows from the vents and she shifts around uncomfortably. The damp spot on her back settle into a biting cold that claws at her skin. The anxiousness starts to set in as soon as she comes inside. It's the reason why she goes outside after dreams spun their way out of her head. It was like the day after being attacked, after every weapon drawn has been sheathed. It hangs over her head like an executioner's axe. A sentence bound to never be spoken.

Vivian and Jamie sit across each other at the kitchen island, opposing sides just like always.

"Well?" Jamie breaks the silence. It was times like this that Vivian wishes, against every single red flag ever dropped, that he could just leave this alone. On the contrary, he just flicks flakes of paper towel at her. Vivian schools her face into a neutral expression. If she could say '?' as a tangible word that would be great, please and thank you. Unfortunately for her, she can't, so instead she settles for a hum, the beginning of what would be a tiring conversation she'd rather avoid.

"What was it about this time?" Jamie rests his head on his hand. And oh, if only she could tell him.

If only she could tell him of the pictures of a phantom community she's never met, of riots and rebellion and the yelling. The unsettling atmosphere as the world always looked bleak, contrasting with the red anger and orange excitement of the energy, buzzing and humming underneath the dull sky. Only greys and soft, unsaturated colors exist in that world. All except for that blue cape, a rich cobalt that latched around her shoulders and draped to the back of her knees. Those were the better nightmares, with visions of an uprising and the protesters filling the streets. On the worse ones, she shivers, those phantom people turn into real phantoms. Red stained concrete and the screams and wails of a woman holding her son. Officers line the streets and her heart plummets when she realizes the bullets aren't rubber this time. But she can't tell him this. So instead,

"Don't remember," she gruffly murmurs. It was stupid to even talk about any of it as if it were real, right? Those people don't exist. The son isn't crumpled on the ground, no cold, unfeeling officers staring down at hope itself and crushing it under their boots. No wails, no cape.

There's a strange noise and if takes her a minute to realize that he's laughing. Jamie guffaws as if he just heard the joke of his life. She raises an eyebrow suspiciously. "Are you joking? Again? You can't just keep-" He gulps down a breath desperately. "You're such a goddamn pansy, not sleeping after something you don't remember-"

Vivian has toed the line between general neutrality and the voice of reason for a while now. It's been her specialty ever since she learned to toughen up (after the diagnosis, her mind supplies) and take a hint. It's the reason why she never tells Jamie of the dreams, the wails, the goddamned cape that seemed to be glued to her shoulders. Because he deems everything that she doesn't care for as a gift from God to him. She stopped coming to him after he laughed the sixth time.

Then she remembers.

Vivian shrugs and pushes herself out of the chair. "Du bist so wie wenn Pfeiffersches Drüsenfieber eine Person wäre." She says as she forcefully puts cockiness into her tone. The look on his face gives her more joy than she thought possible.

"Is-" he sputters, "is that fucking German?" His dark eyes are wide and he leans over the table as if it's the only thing supporting him from falling. "Because I swear to God if you learned German just to spite me, I will raise Hell."

Vivian only raises an eyebrow. "We already know Spanish and English. And we live in Japan, so Japanese was off the table." She gives a sharp smile and watches him shrink back in his seat. "So why not something new?"

"I literally hate everything about you."

That's nothing new, she supposes. She sighs, "I know."

A chime grabs her attention and she makes a quick grab for her phone-the 5 AM alarm she had set for today. Vivian immediately lets out a sharp breath, it was time to prepare breakfast for everyone. They should still have pancakes from last night and Yuta already knew how to make toast himself.

"So whatcha' making, chief?" Jamie asks. Vivian ignores him in favor of taking out a cold plate of pancakes from the fridge. "Why do we even have those in there?"

"Leftovers." She replies shortly. She places the pancakes in the microwave and takes out a carton of eggs before sighing sharply. It was only 5 AM, Yuta wakes up in two hours. But it'd be better to just make it all at once, right?

And just like that Vivian drifts into thought. The transition between them is a hazy fog, a mere dirt path that covers itself back up.

Quirks were odd somethings when you thought about it. Jamie's quirk allows him to manipulate electromagnetic fields of inanimate objects, which by all means should help with cleaning the house at the very least. Still doesn't stop him from holing up in his room when it's time for spring cleaning.

Yuta's, however, was a simple force field. A hard as steel shield he could use to protect himself or others if they were beside him. He got that from their mother, Vivian notes. Despite being younger than the both of them, he already has an excellent grasp on how to work it. She has a feeling he can be a powerful hero if he so chooses.

Then there was her. Vivian Chūza, the only quirkless person within their family. A wrench thrown into the system of a well oiled machine, her aunt would tell her.

She didn't know why it had hurt so much whenever the doctor dropped the diagnosis onto her shoulders. Maybe it was because she was fifth-generation, maybe it was because the rest of her family gave her strange looks, or maybe it was because her and Jamie had drifted apart and with it the string tethering them was cut.

All she knows is that one moment life was good. She had kids to play with on the playground and people would awe at her on the monkey bars. Then the next, well, suddenly she sat alone at lunch.

Vivian shoves a plate Jamie's way, "I gotta get ready soon." She mutters.

------

Her homeroom teacher is a strange man, always throwing his arms around as if he were trying to fly. He seemed a little eccentric, but kind to his students nonetheless. Kind to everyone except her, that is.

Vivian had a feeling it was because of her so called disability—utter bull if she's ever heard it, it wasn't a disability—but she couldn't say anything about it. It wasn't like anyone would believe her if she were to speak up about the people who berated and mocked her in the halls—just look at Yusaku-kun's test scores, Chūza, I mean, really?—or who placed flowers on her desk after that group of quirkless students jumped off the bridge in a suicide pact. Who wrote in permanent marker on her desk for her to kill herself, who slipped nasty messages in her locker or stuck their foot out to trip her whenever she has to walk up to the front for another uninvited lecture. No adult had helped before and she severely doubts they would help her out now.

So whenever the teacher starts to talk about hero schools, he does not stop the venomous glares shot her way.

Yusaku leans back in his chair dangerously and Vivian has half a mind to kick the legs of it just for a laugh. But no, she reminds herself, that's not what good people do. "Hey Chūza," he sneers. "Still aiming for UA? I thought you'd have given up by now, y'know, with your condition and all." Yusaku is slim, with an obviously botched hair job seeing as the top of his head is bleached and splotchy.

Ah, shit. Witty comeback, what would be a witty comeback?

"Yusaku, I really wish your brain was as bright as the top of your head." Shit, too mean, stop talking. "Talking about me giving up is ironic for a future gas station attendant." What did she just say-

"Chūza, you want to attend UA, correct?" The teacher barks, a tone full of distaste. Some students restrain snickers and smiles. "I don't think bullying would look good on your application, so I suggest you zip it before I send you to the principal's for harassment."

Dutifully, Vivian turns her eyes back to the board and the day continues on, with not so subtle comments from Yusaku and petty glares from a group of girls to her right after she requested for them to talk quietly.

The last bell rings and she quietly packs her things, watching as people congregate into groups to make plans. Friends laugh with each other and Vivian briefly sees a guy ask out a girl with a nervous blush, and the girl excitedly nodding her head. A pack of teens wonder about what movie to see and two boys playfully punch each other. These were people who enjoyed being around each other to the point of cutting into their personal time to hang out. Vivian feels something in her chest pull at itself, thrumming beneath her ribs and she heavily swallows.

It was fine! They weren't important to what Vivian was trying to accomplish. All she needs to focus on are keeping her grades high and training for one of the most important events in her life. Frivolous affairs are fun, optional things at best and absolutely detrimental to her goal at the worst. 50/50 aren't exactly the best chances for something as fragile as what she's trying to do, so it's better to cast it out completely.

A buzz brings her back to Earth and she immediately checks her jacket pocket. Late afternoon, Thursday, it was pretty obvious who would be the one to contact her when she's on her way home. But it's only a text, something she can afford to ignore for now. Vivian's shoulders sag in relief at that. At least she doesn't have to talk over the phone, it always gives her jitters for some reason.

The life of the station bumbles and moves around her as she patiently waits to board the train. Maybe she'll be able to get something to eat from a fast food restaurant somewhere.

Another buzz comes from her pocket. And then two more. She yanks her phone out of her pocket again, only to be faced with a text from Yuta. She blinks hard at that—Yuta, despite being her younger brother, doesn't text her all that much unless it's important. Or if it's—

Bugboy:
Jamies trying to put a science expriment into the microwave again

*experime

**experiment

Vivian pushes her way through the crowd of people, multiple 'excuse me's' and apologies uttered while never truly taking her eyes off her phone. Eventually she's squashed in between two burly men who don't even seem to notice her presence. She's still holding her arms out, trying to burn a hole through Jamie's head through the phone screen.

Vivichu:
Tell him if he does I'll have his head

also tell him that I'll snitch about where he keeps his weird stash of different hand sanitizers

Bugboy:
He ignored me

Oh no

She swears to every god up there if he ends up setting the kitchen on fire again, she'll shove a blender so far down his throat he'll—Buzz.

Bugboy:
Uhhh is it safe to microwave dish soap when it has a bunch of spoons in it??

Her eyes widen.

Vivichu:
Metal or plastic

The crowd starts to move forward and Vivian slips out from in between the two men. They don't even seem to notice, and if they do, they choose not to comment.

Bugboy:
Yes.

Her dream of being a hero is over. That's it, it's done, time to pack it up, boys. She has an idiot to disembowel—

Vivichu:
Okay run to your room and if you hear screams from the kitchen

Just go

Don't try to save him

It's just natural selection doing its job at this point

A chime sounds from her phone and she already has a feeling on who it is. She has half the mind to just put her phone on silent, why was she so popular today?

2 new messages from Blackout

Chūza san are u coming in today????

If you died can i adopt your younger brother

Vivian steps onto the train after weaving her way through the mass of people heading through the door. She immediately grasps a pole when someone pushes her out of the way, almost hugging the bar. She huffs a small breath and texts back.

smol child:

You'll have to get through Jamie first

Did you change my name again I swear to god

Blackout:
Its tru tho

The lack of proper grammar and spelling is really what's scaring her most about the situation.

smol child:
I have a child to save and an explosion to stop

I'll be there in a bit.