𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐌𝐏𝐇 || ʜᴀᴡᴋꜱ

36➟ In which Hawks tries to break the contract.

When we were 7, the commission made us use our quirks on rabbits. They'd given us the animals 2 weeks before that and told us to give them names. We were charged with taking care of them for those 2 weeks. I called mine Bonnie. It wasn't the most creative name, but it was hard to be overtly creative when you'd grown up in a concrete government facility. I think Hawks named his Hopper.

We were told to use our quirks with the intent of harm.

None of us wanted to, but all of us had to. The idea of a choice is what always made their training exercises worse.

I couldn't do it, so they took me out of the room and brought me back in. That time, there was a burlap sack in the middle of the room. They'd told me it was a dummy and I'd test out my quirk on it before I'd have to use it on Bonnie.

I don't know why I didn't realise, my quirk only works on living things, but by the time it was over, they'd gotten me to kill my first and only pet.

They told me Hawks did it first try, without the sack. They always tried to make it a competition between the two of us.

That night, I cried. We were younger and shared a room back then. So Hawks heard me, and he hugged me. Told me that Bonnie was playing with Hopper up in the clouds. I laughed and told him that rabbits couldn't fly and that he was being stupid. But the fact was, he'd made me feel better.

Just like now.

I didn't know how to tell him. All I knew is that I wanted to. Out of everyone I could talk to, he was probably the only one with a remotely similar experience. I didn't want to believe Rin had been through anything like that yet, nor did I want to burden him. Lelija was out of the picture and Grace—

His shoulder stifled another round of sobs that racked my chest.

"You're okay," he repeated, his hand alternating from my back to the back of my head methodically.

"He killed her," I mumbled into his shirt.

"Who?" He pulled away, our eyes locking onto each other.

"Clover," I shook my head, "Clover killed my friend."

A concerned look fell over his face as he narrowed his eyes, "Were you there with him?"

I rest the bottom half of my head against my hand as I looked to the window of the apartment, my attention drawn to the street lamp that stood right outside, its light was just bright enough to keep me from seeing her face flash across my eyelids again, "I wasn't meant to be."

"Did he see you?"

I shook my head slightly, eyes still fixed on the street light that kept a steady flicker.

"Did he see you?" His hand was on my cheek and forced me to look at him. I met his eyes that time. Genuine concern filled his eyes, and at that moment, his fear filled me as I felt myself begin to panic.

He hadn't seen me, I was in a cupboard. I was safe. Grace wasn't.

"No, no, I don't think so."

"You don't think so? Or you know so?" His face was deadly serious, his golden eyes boring into me with such intensity I wanted to take a step back, "because know we know he'll kill, you're in even more danger and I— [Y/N], I can't lose you."

I breathed out, shocked by his words. In theory, it was a simple statement, but the way he said it, like he really, really meant it... I felt something stir inside me like I was in a carriage on a rollercoaster and we'd just tipped over the highest drop. Butterflies. But it couldn't be that that was childish, something you felt when your 'crush' said hello to you in primary school. This was real life. This was an adult situation. Grace had just died for god's sake, this was a conversation, literally, about life or death, and a part of me was, as much as I hated to admit it; falling in love. Apparently, my emotions had the worst timing.