Whispers of the South Wind

Chapter 1

He sighed deeply, swirling the amber liquid in his cup and watching with relative disinterest as the foam bubbles burst on the surface. The dim lighting in the bar created a subdued atmosphere, with the low hum of the small crowd inside. Bringing the glass up to his lips, he took a sip and wrinkled his nose; American beer was something he hadn't quite gotten used to yet. Though, to be fair, he was never a fan of beer in Japan either.

Placing the glass back on the small paper coaster on the grimy counter, he glanced around the room with another small sigh. It wasn't his first time coming here, but the decor always made him question himself. It was just so different from what he was used to seeing in Japanese bars.

The walls were all wood paneling adorned with various country and western elements and pictures, though he didn't know what half of them represented. Framed pictures included various shots of rolling countryside with wheat—or maybe that was corn—growing through them. A small stage behind where he was currently sitting allowed people to sing or perform throughout the night. The air carried the faint smell of lingering cigarette smoke, another thing that seemed to be commonplace in American bars.

A small flatscreen in the corner displayed an American football game, The Cowboys vs. The Titans. As far as he could understand, the Cowboys were winning, much to the displeasure of everyone in the bar. It only made sense since the Titans hailed from Tennessee, which is where the bar was located. Overall, it wasn't too bad; at least it provided him with a place to come and get drunk when those dark thoughts started to creep back in.

It had been almost three years since the war ended, but he never stopped thinking about it. Sometimes he still woke up in cold sweats, the screams of UA's children echoing in his ears as he scrambled to his bathroom to vomit.

For months, he tortured himself as Fumikage learned to walk again, as Jiro went through surgery to fix her ear. He supported Endeavor as they laid his oldest to rest and put his youngest through physical therapy due to his injuries. He pushed and pushed, never once stopping to think about himself and what he lost. He ignored the changes in his body from the loss of his quirk, not bothering to consider the way that changed things for him.

No, instead, he decided to reform the Commission. He changed policies, started fundraisers, delivered speeches, and led marches until finally, it was over. The damage and hurt were put behind them, Japan finally healing from the war that had so brutally ravaged its shores. People went on with their lives, a new Commission President was fairly elected, the students went back to classes, and Endeavor and his wife moved to the countryside to enjoy his retirement.

People moved on, but they moved on without him. He was left alone, with no quirk and no purpose. There was nobody to see, nothing to do, and slowly, he started to lose himself.

Every day felt like an endless black pit as he screamed and cried for someone, anyone, to help him. But nobody was coming to save him, and he struggled to adjust to the changes that came with the loss of Fierce Wings. His eyesight was worse than he remembered, his balance constantly off, and his body never felt quite right. He hardly ate, unable to sleep as his thoughts tormented him. He tried so hard to push through it, to ignore the darkness slowly taking over his brain, but he couldn't fight it forever.

It all quickly reached the breaking point.

He finally succumbed to the need for sleep, aided by one of the pills prescribed by the doctors before he left the hospital. The dream started pleasantly enough, with him soaring freely through the light blue sky, but it gradually shifted to something much darker. A sense of nausea overcame him as the dream suddenly twisted and changed, coming to an unsettling halt.

No, he didn't want to be here. He needed to wake up, needed to get out.

He attempted to get up, but it was too late. The bottom of a boot pressed roughly into his head, and his flight visor cracked and shattered across his face. Tiny pieces of yellow plastic dug into his skin, terror spreading through him as he slowly allowed his eyes to look upward.