𝑳𝑬𝑺 𝑭𝑹𝑨𝑮𝑰𝑳𝑬𝑺 •𝒃𝒙𝒃•

Overflow ~ 2

It was no surprise to him when he woke up to an empty house.

An empty house... As it always was on that date.

October 20th. The day Yuma was born and... the day his mother died.

Father always took Kyoya somewhere the day before, and they would never return before the 20th passed, leaving Yuma alone.

Alone... and in an empty house, one void of life.

_

It wasn't a school day, so Yuma had the whole house—villa—to himself.

The pure white walls never gave him any warmth, nor were they of any sort of comfort to him. They just added to the sheer largeness of the empty house.

The framed—expensive—pictures marred the spotless walls, trying, and failing, to make it seem more homey. This house was never something he saw as 'home'.

The small, beige coloured, one they had back in Japan was the only home he'll ever have.

And now he doesn't even have that anymore.

If only he never got a quirk!

If only he told his brother that he was feeling unwell that day!

If only he hadn't hurt Mahiru!

If only he never killed mother just by simply existing...!

Then maybe, just maybe, things would have been better.

But, the dread Yuma felt didn't go away.

_

He was lying on his back, blankly staring at the ceiling, bored out of his mind. The sun had barely started to go down and he didn't know what to do with himself.

The TV wasn't satisfying him at all, the thick French accents hurt his ears more than anything else.

He never liked French. There was no reason in particular—his father's face flashed before his eyes, but he ignored it—he just disliked it.

Japanese always sounded better to him, even though he had no time to talk with anyone in it. Father forbade him and Kyoya to speak anything in Japanese, and Yuma couldn't blame him for that one thing.

It seemed like it brought too many memories of mother.

That didn't stop him from listening to it on social platforms and, like now, on the TV. There was a cartoon, one which depicted a boy who had no worries in the world, one who fit in with everyone.

Yuma almost laughed at the irony.

He closed his eyes, listening to the words. Listening to the voices. He felt as if he was home, back in Japan, and yet... Something was missing.

Something which was-

"Here you are... Yet again breaking one of the rules I've put up."

Yuma looked to the side and was met with his father's glinting eyes. He had no time to even move, before the man's strong hands clamped onto his shoulders and he was pulled off the couch.

"Papa, stop!" Kyoya's panicked voice rang out through the house.

The said man briefly stopped as he turned to face the older boy, "Don't interfere!" He ordered, leaving no room for further arguments.

From the corner of his eye, Yuma noticed the terrified look on his brother's face, "Don't use your quirk on him," Yuma mumbled out, weekly grabbing the hands holding him in place, "He didn't do anything."