Hoshiumi had had it rough.
His first childhood home was in a small, cramped rented apartment with only his mother and younger sister, and so much stuff it fills up the house from the door to the rooms. His mother wakes up early, and arrives home late - from working two jobs to make ends meet. That left him to take care of the home, the chores, and his younger sister. He learnt to grow up fast, be responsible, be resourceful and independent.
He cooked and ate with his younger sister, leaving his mom's portion of the meal on the table, covering it with food covers. However, that doesn't mean there weren't times his mother arrived at home to have dinner with Hoshiumi - when Hoshiumi was late after volleyball practice, and his mom's boss allowed her to leave early. Sometimes, she would cook dinner for both of them and make them bento boxes for tomorrow's lunch. But the last time they had a dinner together was too few now - those days could be counted on Hoshiumi's thin fingers.
His mother sometimes felt guilty over not spending more time with her children, but Hoshiumi understands. She was a kind, caring woman who would sacrifice everything for her children, and are working hard to pay for their expenses.
His fiery personality, huge gall, lack of money and social status, and his strange hair attracted attention from bullies. And he repelled them with his fiery personality and huge gall too. He was small, yet he knew how to fight, how to stand up to others, how to punch and kick. He had, many times, been involved in fights at school and was brought to the principal and his mother's attention. She had always scolded him, but that did not deter Hoshiumi at all, since he knew he was only standing up for what he thought was right.
Obviously, he also protected his younger sister and her friends. They looked up to him, oftentimes visit his home and taste his food. Apart from his personality at school, he was soft to them. He was the chill, cool brother they wished they had.
He saved his allowances, and were careful with money. He resorted to buy for his sister over his own, and he knew to treasure and take care of his possessions, especially if they were new.
He was interested in volleyball. He had signed up at his local volleyball club, but they paid no attention to him due to his short height. He could not let the injustice go unsolved, but could not do anything about it either.
He was punctual, methodical which surprised everyone. He arrived soonest to practice and left the latest, always doing his best, working like an unstoppable, vigorous maniac. He advanced, due to his flexibility, fast reflexes, and raw talent. The looks on his coaches' faces, on his teammates' faces that had always looked down on him with scorn, was something Hoshiumi could never forget. The first spike that broke through tall blocks, that proved even small people could fight, and win up in the sky. Hoshiumi realized he had a chip on his shoulder, a mission: to prove wrong anyone who dared look down on him, to show how powerful or capable he could be in his passion. He had been seen as weird-looking, poor, angry and unlikeable loner kid who had been constantly looked down upon and laughed at. This time, he was determined to let others know who he was and what he was capable of. Firstly, through volleyball.
Since then, he had been constantly proving himself. Others disliked his anger, but it was what pulled him up whenever he felt discouraged. He worked harder, at school and volleyball, fixing his impulsive behavior toward teammates and while playing volleyball, jumped higher, ran faster, spiked and blocked with more skill, dexterity, and power until he reached perfection. Now, everyone saw him as something more - older people as the determined kids in poverty working hard to achieve at life, younger people feared him and respected him, his teachers saw him as an unstoppable force of pure willpower and tenacity. Some still hated him though, from him being an unlikeable, unnecessarily angry kid who had crossed path and fought with others now was praised for being a high-achiever perfect kid in a poor family.
It was so much more effort than someone who was tall, and accepted in the volleyball court - but it was worth it. Life isn't fair, and being short was one of the obstacles he had to overcome. But he will overcome it, or has to, to become a professional player. And he wanted to be a professional player, wanted to expand his range beyond his little town and show the world what he had to offer. However, he was pretty much the unknown boy in a small town in the volleyball world, and the hope for nationals only in a tiny place in the south of Nagano.
Kamomedai answered his prayers. They saw something in his abilities and scouted him using a sports scholarship. His mother and younger sister could not move because of financial problems - so he had to live in the school dorm and pay for food and accommodations with his mom's money.
Arrangements were made, and he would be admitted as a first year, although he had to go to school later than his friends.
The first thing he did when he moved was to find a part-time job and a place for rent, since he could not afford dorm. He could not afford to spend his mother's money on the non-necessities, and rather paid for them himself.
Rumors already circulated within the school walls, about an unknown boy who moved from the south, won a hard-to-earn scholarship paying his whole school fee, was a beast in playing volleyball and even went to Nationals.
Hoshiumi did not have experiences with rumors or how to detect them and acquire information. His old school was tight-knit, everybody knew everybody, and rumors penetrated through the school walls, but he didn't bother to pick it up. Now, he was only concerned with keeping his grades high enough.
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Canary (Life Series)
(Regarding Jimmy waking up in Last Life, and discovering he has been changed. I have a lot of thoughts about Canary!Jimmy and tried to compile them all! This has sat in my drafts for a while and I've decided to just post it instead of nitpicking it any further lol. Enjoy!)
CW: Death mentions, dehumanizing, deprecating thoughts, minor body horror
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Jimmy didn't move for a long time after he first spawned in.
He felt them there. Wings. Hanging off his shoulders with just as much weight as his other limbs. Even when trying not to move, he would sometimes twitch as a human body does (he's human, he's always been human, and he always will be, he HAS to be, right?), and the wings would move too.
It settled an icy dread deep in his chest, to know he'd been changed like this. Against his will. It was so minor, but the mere fact that it happened paralyzed him to the core. What if this was just the beginning?
(What else would happen to him?)
Eventually, he got tired and cramped from his position, and he reasoned he didn't have time for a crisis right now. He could feel that there was something different in this world, although waking up with no memory as to how he arrived was also a pretty good indicator. He was in a death game. Again.
Well, the W--no, don't talk about them. They love it when they're brought up in conversation, and their attention is never a good thing to have.
Anyway, the...game makers tended to throw a handful of players in, so Jimmy at least knew he was not alone.
He set off to search for others. And, for a while, it was as normal as a death game could be, with a few twists of course. They always felt the need to shake things up.
But, Jimmy made friends, and was soon setting up shop as a member of the Southlands.
He turned his back on Grian to harvest some wood, and his friend froze. "Tim...you've got wings."
"Yeah, I gathered that." Jimmy replied with as much neutrality as he could muster. "I can't fly, though, I tried."
He didn't know what he expected, really. If Grian couldn't fly, with wings as grand as he had, why would Jimmy be able to?
(Good for nothing, as usual, isn't it just hilarious?)
"Are they at least colorful?" Jimmy asked, attempting to stay upbeat. "I can't see them, obviously."
Jimmy's wings were so small that even when he figured out how to move them, he couldn't see them, even when he stretched as hard as he could and nearly broke his own neck craning around for a look.
Grian looked constipated, like he didn't know what to say.
"They're yellow." He finally said. Jimmy nodded thoughtfully. "Fits the color scheme, at least--"
"They're canary wings, Jimmy." Grian interrupted, his tone akin to what it would be when telling somebody terrible news.
Jimmy stared blankly. "Okay? What does that mean?"
Grian looked at him for a long time, his mouth pressed into a thin line, until he finally shrugged and turned away. "Doesn't matter."
And just like that, they were back to normal, making "aha" puns while building up the Southlands base. Jimmy wanted to believe in the peace and the laughter that he knew was precious, so he didn't let his mind linger on their conversation.
He noticed Grian avoided looking him in the eyes from then on, though.
It was only later, when they were on their red lives and Grian's blade ran him through the back, that Jimmy couldn't avoid his thoughts anymore and he finally put together what his friend had been so odd about.
Jimmy was the first to die. Again. As if he was an omen that death was coming for the rest of them, a canary going silent in the coal mine that was this twisted game.
Of course. It was a cruel joke that Jimmy was the butt of. He didn't know what he expected.
The worst part was that the wings stayed when he woke up again.
This game was different, as they all were. This time, he had a Soulmate, who he met through death.
It really couldn't get any more poetic than that. Jimmy knew that the Watchers just loved it. It made his stomach clench with a bitter anger.
But he couldn't be mad at Tango. It wasn't his fault that a creeper dropped on his head. Just like it wasn't Jimmy's fault that he was going to die first.
He still felt crushing guilt at the fact that he took Tango with him.
If Jimmy was the Watchers' new joke, fine. But attaching him to someone else just to have them die too was infuriatingly unfair.
He was relieved when the next game was different. Nobody was bound to him, or his fate. Everybody was on an even field; 24 hours to live.
Going through the motions was easy. Set up camp, get food squared away, find a beginning alliance. This time, it was Grian and Joel.
They decided to call themselves the Bad Boys, and Jimmy kept his wings firmly tucked inside his matching leather jacket.
(Out of sight, out of mind.)
As the sun set on their first night, Jimmy stared at the stars from atop the smouldering mansion, squished between his allies in beds pressed so close together that they might as well be one.
Maybe this time would be different. Maybe the fourth time would be the charm, and next time Jimmy would wake up without the canary wings that sealed his fate from the start.
He'd always been one for hoping.
END.
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