This is SIOC/OC-reincarnation and twin fic.

Alternative summary: "... for when you gaze long into the abyss. The abyss gazes also into you" by Friedrich Nietzsche. So what, mister Nietzsche, should I do when I constantly carry the abyss within me?

- Or more like something that was used as summary before. It still could be used, but as I am moving at much slower pace than I first estimated, I figured that I should change summary to something that it is more... actual?

Warning: There is swearing throughout the whole fic (a lot), character death in first chapter, violence and questionable morals in later chapters. OC is not your typical goody two-shoes and the fic will reflect that.

I follow manga so those that only watched anime should be prepared for spoilers (though not much - I am waaay behind the manga now).

Also, my grammar is shit, just saying.

Beta - my loyal helper and idea-bouncer OTrizy. Check out her profile when you have time, too~-

Disclaimer: I don't own anything from anime/manga My Hero Academia. I only own my OC and even SIOC/reincarnation idea is so overused, that I can't say that this idea is mine, either.

The image of this fiction was made by me on a bebinator*com site.

Quote: For life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one. - Khalil Gibran

Pain.

The widely used definition of pain is: "It's an unpleasant sensory and emotional experience associated with actual or potential tissue damage, or described in terms of such damage."

Now, I didn't really care about things like 'potential tissue damage' and other nice sounding complex words. I wasn't really smart type, mind you. However, what I cared about (more like what I knew from my own experience) was: it sucked as hell to be wounded. Enough said.

Sure, some could get used to it if they were hurt often. That didn't mean that it was pleasant (or healthy) to get your 'tissues damaged'. I was not a person who was fond of pain (I am not a masochist, thank you very much) I tried to avoid situations that would result in me getting hurt... And failed again and again and again.

Well, in my defense, it wasn't entirely my fault that I ended up going home all torn up every third day. Blame my occupation and stupid people who refuse to learn from their mistakes.

What occupation, you might ask... Well, I suppose a lot of people would frown upon this job. I probably would too if I had a chance to live normal life. But well, I guess that was impossible from the start with my trouble-making ways.

Shit happened and I went down the bad road and somehow became involved with the worst crowd possible (...but it's not like I lived saint life before that). I did various odd jobs for several years until I settled on the courier job.
You want someone to transport something from one place to the other? I am your woman, just call me. Be it expensive goods, drugs, money, people or even corpses. I didn't really care (well I minded corpses a little - do you know how long their stench stays in the car? Very long) and I didn't ask questions.

I didn't hate my job. I was actually quite satisfied with it, because I've always liked cars. I've wanted to become mechanic... but that became impossible after having a criminal record. Driving one also felt extremely fulfilling. Salary was good too as my clients didn't mind paying a hefty sum in exchange for my silence. Even after giving half of my earned money to my… let's say, protector, I still lived in luxury with what I had left.

There were downsides, of course. The Police was one of them, I can't count how many times my lawyer had to get my ass out of the mess I got it into, luckily I've never spent in jail more than a week... except the first time.

The other, more dangerous and more… sensitive downside was when somebody decided that he wanted something I was transporting. They ignored that I was under the protection of a very influential person who could destroy them with one glance. They were so very stupid to think they can do this without him knowing, or maybe they were just actively suicidal?

Fast chases that ensued throughout the whole country as I tried to shake them off (sometimes it worked and sometimes it didn't) were certainly entertaining… right until fun ended in the situation where I was surrounded by enemy's cars and the only action that was left to do was the direct confrontation. What followed was ugly, bloody and most of the time it left me in very bad shape, but surprisingly not dead.

However, as they say: luck eventually runs out… and I was currently experiencing this saying.

I was transporting some fancy paintings. I've never been into arts therefore I didn't know how much they were worth, probably a hefty sum considering how many people were willing to put themselves against me. I was no pushover, people who underestimated me in the past because of my gender… let's say, they weren't able to do that mistake ever again.

I had it under control. It wasn't that different from all those assaults in the past. Just one guy with brain hiding behind the mass of muscle brained thugs. The only difference this time was that somebody heard the ruckus we were making and probably was too curious for his own good, therefore, he had to go and look what was going on.

I… panicked you could say. I hated it when innocent people died just because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time. It reminded me of how I ended up where I was and more importantly of my dead best friend. I've killed people in the past, but never without reason. I may be criminal but even I had lines that I didn't cross, no matter what.

So, yeah. I lost my focus when I saw that one of those brainless men started to run with a knife in hand at the fear-stricken man. Without thinking I lunged at the running male, ignoring other assailants. I jammed my small knife into his exposed neck (who the hell turns his back on his enemy?!) and glanced with the corner of my eyes at the stupid guy who, fortunately, already managed to shake off his stupor. He turned on the spot and ran away with frightened scream. Well… points to him for running away so quickly, at least his survival instincts were working properly now.

However, I was so engrossed in the fact that I did something good for once that I forgot about my enemy… stupid, novice mistake, I know. I am so ashamed of myself now (again, who the hell turns his back on his enemy?!).

And here I was.

Lying in a puddle of my own blood and waiting for death to come. Without fancy paintings I was transporting, without my lovely brown car, without my wallet with pizza's coupons... Hell, there was practically nothing here except corpses - so not very good company.

Well… there was one other thing that was accompanying me in my last moments… It was thing that started all this flash-backing.

Pain.

Geeze… couldn't I be free of it in my last moments? Was it really so important for death to be so painful? I was already so, so cold. Wasn't that enough?

I suppose now was time to reminisce... Maybe some kind of 'life flashing before my eyes' moment? Well, I already kind of did that seconds ago, but I didn't go over the most important years.

I didn't have a lot of happy memories, my 'friends' and 'family' abandoned me when I ended in jail. At that time it hurt, I did what was right. Okay, I admit that burning down house is bad, but nobody died (certainly not because of the lack of effort on my side, mind you, that fucker deserved to die) and everyone knew that it was that bastard's fault that he died, so what the fuck?!. Anyway, I did what was right, but everybody told me that I was in the wrong and that I deserved to be punished.

I hated it. I hated them. I hated myself. I hated my life. I hatedhatedhated. And in the end, I became a cold-hearted killer who only cared about money.

Then, I saw that guy, accidentally stumbling upon our fight and it was so similar to how my friend died, that I... Well.

You see, my best friend.. he was like a little brother to me, no, that didn't describe fully how I felt towards him. I loved him, not in romantic sense, no way, eww, that just- wrong. I just felt like... like he was my whole life.

He was an incredible person. He stretched his hand towards me (quite literally) and brightened my dull life in a way I thought was impossible before and made me see other colors than just black and white. Memories of those years spent with him continued to give me strength to live on even after his death.

Maybe, if I didn't have so much blood on my hands I would be able to meet him again, on the other side. But as it was… It was not possible.

Yes… yes… It was impossible. Because he was like the sun who continued to color my monochrome filled days. When he smiled you could just imagine a meadow filled with flowers. He was not tainted even when he saw an ugly side of the world; no, instead he wanted to change it... He was definitely up there if something akin to heaven existed.

And… I was a monster that wanted to thrive in his light. I was an abyss that wanted to swallow him so that only I could see his glow. I belonged all the way down, into the hell. To forever repent for the things I did. To be miles away from him, so my blood-covered hands could never reach him.

I chuckled wetly at my train of thought. I was becoming quite a poet in my last moments of life, maybe I should have became a writer instead? I bared my teeth in parody of a smile, blood slipping through my clenched teeth and sliding down my chin to join a rapidly expanding puddle under and around me.

The thought of meeting him again was quite ridiculous. His family loved him, his friends loved him, hell even his pets loved him. Surely he was with them now. There wasn't any place left for me beside him.

A short sigh escaped me as I noted my slowly darkening vision. Sure sign that I was seconds away from unconsciousness and in this case it meant my death was nearing, too. Huh, so the Grim Reaper won't honor me of his visit, eh? As my vision continued to darken I thought about what to say. Because, hey, these were my last words, I had to make sure that they were at least memorable if nothing else, even though there was nobody to hear them.

As seconds ticked away and nothing came to mind, my brain, that was probably becoming bored with my slow thinking, decided to play a game with me and started to create an illusion of the person I wanted to see the most.

He was blurry, with a face surrounded by white light, but I knew who he was. I recognized his cheerful and vibrant presence.

I read somewhere that just before death, a massive amount of hallucinogenic chemicals are released, if that's what was causing the image then damn, they were doing one hell of a good job.

The illusion of my dead best friend walked over to me and when he was at the arm's length, he stretched his hand to my laying form, as if intending to help me up… It felt nostalgic. Just like old times, huh?

Aaah… I knew now what I will say. It was something that I wanted for so many years...

'My last words…,' I thought as I collected all of my remaining strength, concentrating it into one point of my body – my hand.

I slowly lifted my deathly pale limb and moved it in the direction of my brain's illusion. I was reaching for the hand, knowing there was nothing here but desperately needing some sort of comfort. I could lie to myself all I wanted and say that I wasn't scared of anything, especially death. But the truth was… I was scared. I was fucking scared.

'My last words will be…'

I smiled despite tremors wracking my body, making my raised hand wobble in the air. Despite tears on my face that started to fall without me knowing. Despite coldness lazily striding through my veins, instead of the warm blood that now lied on the ground.

Because, for just a moment, it felt like the hand of the ghost above me was real, as if he really came to welcome me. And suddenly I wasn't scared so much anymore.

"Can I see your smile one more time?"

Through my hazy vision, I saw that for a moment, his face stopped to be obstructed by light and I was finally able to see his beautiful, beautiful smile. Content, I closed my eyes fully and breathed out my final breath. Hand falling down lifelessly.

The end~

I tried to go back and fix this chapter again, hopefully it's better now.