Alright, so this chapter is in two parts. I just thought I'd warn you so when you hit the next break line like the one between this and the story, you don't stop reading. And I was right in what I said at the end of last chapter. This one's a doozy. We should probably get right to it. Enjoy.
Walking as quickly as I can, I pat myself down in search of my phone. Then it dawns on me that I left it in my backpack, which is now slumped on the floor by the dorm entrance. My lips press into a fine line, but I just sigh and continue moving. Likelihood is Dad isn't at home. He usually isn't. And even if I had my phone, Fuyumi's at work so there's no guarantee she would know if he was there, anyway.
On my way, I cut through the park we used to play in as kids. I pause, my eyes falling on the jungle gym. I can still see her standing at the bottom in pigtails, shouting that she'd save me as I sat at the top. She always wanted to play hero, and I always wanted to sit and catch my breath, so I would usually play the damsel in distress. There were times, though, when I still had energy, that I wanted to be the hero. Even when I was little, and still under my dad's oppressive rule, heroism always had an attractive shine to it. I always admired All Might, and how nice he seemed. The pillar of justice was one thing the two of us could banter about all day! I often imagined he was my dad instead of Endeavor.
I can still remember those numbered times where I played the hero. Instead of the jungle gym, she always liked to find tricky places around the playground so I'd have to work to get her down. Sometimes she'd sit on top of the monkey bars. Other times, when we were in a more imaginative mood, she'd sit atop the tube slide and we'd pretend there was a villain climbing up to get her. I'd have to get up to the slide, coax her off the top of it, and carry her down the slide in my arms all in a set amount of time to win. I enjoyed it, but she got into it, always creating crazy reasons for why she was stuck, or arguing with the make believe villain to stall for time. She trembled and fake cried while she waited and clung to me like I actually was her life saver when I took her down the slide. It was her magically real relief and gratitude that first convinced me that, even despite it being what my father wanted, I wanted to become a hero.
I shake my head and force myself to keep moving. This isn't time to reminisce. Now she's dangerous and volatile and I need to find her. She isn't here, and the group that I sent here has moved on to search elsewhere. I need to do so, too.
Memories continue to bombard me as I move through to the other side, but I refuse to let them stop me again, even when I can't help but recall the time I couldn't stop those classmates of hers from forcing her to use her quirk.
I only allow my feet to stop again when I'm facing the front door of my own home. I catch my breath, and glance about to see if I'm being watched. I'm not. Figures. She's more likely to be inside, in a place she knows well and where she'll know the moment anyone enters.
When my breaths are once again even, I brace myself and lift a hand to the door. Slowly, silently, I slide it open.
The lights are off. I give my eyes a moment to adjust, the step inside, closing the door behind me with the same care I opened it. As I cautiously trek down the hall, each step measured to prevent the padding sound of footsteps, I run through my memories and try to recall if she ever learned to use any weapons. As far as I know, though, she only over learned hand-to-hand combat with me. The only thing I can think of that she might know how to use is nunchucks, but back then, she was never very good with them.
Despite the number of rooms and hallways, there's no question in my mind as to where she is if she's here. While the Kyou's would occasionally eat dinner with us, the only place she was ever really allowed without her parents was in the dojo.
I come to the door of the dojo: Heavy traces of smoke linger in the air. My fingers curl around the handle, and, delicately, quietly, I slide it open. I don't enter.
Daylight streaming in through the windows washes over the Japanese floor and gives color to the girl's dark hair. She hovers carelessly in the center of the room, her fingers daintily maneuvering a small knife as if there wasn't a more fascinating thing she could have in her hand. Her hair hangs from a high ponytail, a thick black headband restraining her bangs. The dot on her forehead is displayed unmarred. Her fingers close around the handle of her knife as her albino eyes raise to meet mine, and a small smirk tugs at the corners of her lips. Before I can speak, she flips her knife to point to a corner behind her.
Outside of the beams of light let in through the windows, a familiar figure with restless hair curls against the wall. A mask over his eyes hides his face, a cloth tied in his mouth keeps him mute. The way his arms disappear behind his back suggest they're held there by something. Still, even with the restraints, the fact that he hasn't fought back makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.
"What did you do to him?"
She sticks her empty hand in the pocket of her jacket and pulls out a syringe, flaunting it tauntingly before slipping it back. "Just a little poison."
I stiffen. "You didn't—"
"It's not fatal," she interrupts, stepping over towards her hostage. She leans against the wall next to him, smiling at Midoriya in a way I can only think to describe as sadistic pleasure. "Hallucinogenic. Illusions are my specialty, after all."
"Midoriya!"
"Ear plugs." She points to her ear. "I cut off all external stimuli. Frankly, I've never been the scientific type, but I think this experiment is rather interesting. I wonder if what he's seeing right now is like what he'd see if I used my Night Terror."
Keeping my gaze zeroed on her, I take a careful step into the room. "Just give him back and come back with me to school. If you come back, we can get him treated. I'm sure he'll forgive you."
She scoffs. "He would, wouldn't he? Stop, not another step." She points her blade at me and I freeze. Seeing my obedience, her grin widens. "Let's be real, Shouto. UA doesn't want me. They just want to keep me leashed. They're not gonna just let me off now that I've overstepped their bounds."
I hold up my hands in surrender, my intentions to keep her calm. "You don't want to do this."
"Don't I?"
She kneels down and moves her knife to drag lightly along Midoriya's cheek, causing me to instinctively step forward. Her smile morphs to a growl and she presses the blade deeper, drawing a bead of blood at its point. I retract my step.
"You see, Shouto, this world sucks. I didn't ask to be born with the ability to hurt, and yet there I was, driving people mad from the moment I came into the world. Did you know the doctor who delivered me is still in hospice? My parents were so traumatized they couldn't take care of me for the first few years of my life. Meanwhile, while I've been struggling not to be the brunt of everyone's hatred, there are people like Bakugo who are well on their way to becoming a top hero. Stupid, isn't it?"
"That's what I'm trying to say," I reason. "The way you've been acting, you're only encouraging people to hate you."
"Oh I know. I got fed up with people hating me for no reason awhile ago. I think it was early middle school that I finally decided if people were gonna hate me anyway, I'd at least give them a reason. But even then they weren't satisfied." She turns her hand to smear the droplet of blood across his skin with her thumb. "They still thought I was hiding something. Always thought I was scheming. They've all been waiting for me to crack. Even you."
"This isn't you."
"It is and you know it!" she hisses, bolting straight and glaring.
I rotate my hands so the palms face up, harmless. "Listen. What are you even planning to do? You kidnapped Midoriya, made him your hostage, and drew me out. What now? What's your goal?"
She shrugs. "Don't really have one. I'm just giving you all the show you've been dying to get from me."
"No one wants you to do this."
"LIES!" Her foot stomps to the floor with a bang, and I can't help but wince when the floor cracks under the collision. Once again she raises her knife to point at me. "There's not a person in the world who didn't expect this of me!"
"I never—"
"Don't lie to me! You think I'm evil just like everyone else, so I'll give you evil! I'll make sure your poor friend Midoriya can never escape his world of nightmares! I'll try everything until he suffers through them with his eyes open and his blood clean!" Her hand begins to shake in her ferver, her eyes wide with madness as she declares, "Then I'll hunt down every bitch and bastard that ever dared to lay a finger on me and I'll put them through the same hell! I'll become all you guys ever wanted!"
My blood runs cold when she begins to laugh. Forcing my breathing to stay steady, I lock my muscles to keep my hands from quaking as I gradually roll my hands sideways. Slowly, I lower the temperature on the right half of my body.
Her mouth immediately snaps back into a snarl and she sinks into a defensive stance. Her glare on my face, she taunts, "Why don't you use your daddy's precious quirk?"
"I still hate that bastard," I promise her quietly, "and I don't want to hurt you. Please just stop this. Mr. Aizawa said if you come back without hurting anyone, he can hide this. Don't force yourself onto this path."
"Force myself? Force myself? I never forced myself to do anything! It's everyone else!" Her quaking worsens as her lips draw farther back over her teeth. "Don't you dare blame me for it! It was all you. You all think you're so righteous, punishing the girl with the villainous quirk! So what if I get beaten half to death? I deserve it, right? So what if I'm treated as less than human? I'm just a fucking villain!"
"Kyou, put down the knife."
She huffs a quick, disbelieving laugh. "There it is. You just proved everything I said. You're just the same as all of them!"
I flex my hand and all of the sudden, everything's in motion. My eyes fly to her feet as I draw back my arm to freeze her in place, but not before I see the terror flash in her expression, and then a lightning fast movement up causes my gaze to flash upwards involuntarily.
My breath shudders out as I watch Shouto's discolored eyes go wide, his hand freezing in the air before he can follow through with his attack. Then his fingers twitch, then curl in with strained tension, his nails burrowing into his hand as his arm drops limply to his side. His breathing turns shallow as his gaze glazes over, and all of a sudden, his knees buckle beneath him.
My hand snaps away from my forehead, and both rise shakily above my mouth. Oh my god. I just…
I'm rooted where I stand as Shouto trembles uncontrollably. Every muscle has gone rigid, and sweat has already begun to drip down by his eyes. He begins to wheeze as his throat constricts in on itself.
Fuck. Oh fuck! What have I done? I used it on Shouto! I hurt him! He's in pain because of me! Oh god, they weren't wrong, I really am a villain! I should be punished! How could I have done this to him if I had any goodness in me? All those names, all those beatings, the hatred, ostracization, cruelty, I deserved every last bit of it! Somebody hit me! I deserve it! Hit me and kick me and make me bleed! I hurt Shouto!
But there's no one around. No one but the boy I drugged up and kidnapped, and the boy I just threw into his own nightmares.
My gaze lowers to my hands. The bloody engravings stare back at me. Knife. I had a knife. Where did it go? Did I drop it?
A droplet of water drips onto one of the designs. Am I…crying? I drag my palms across my face in an attempt to dry my cheeks, but the moisture just keeps coming. My breath begins to hitch as I rub, and in my desperation I become vaguely aware of my own distorted voice in my ears blubbering out unintelligible words. Why won't the tears stop? I don't deserve the right to be sad! I'm the monster!
Through my now watery vision, a bit of light inside the room catches my eye. I pause rubbing my face, and the water reforms into continuous streams. As faint as it is, there's light around Shouto's left hand. I drop to my knees and scramble to him, reaching out to grab his wrists. In my right hand, even his wrist is hot, and in my left, I can feel the chill wafting from his palm. His powers are leaking. He's so gone he can't even regulate himself.
I look back up to his face. His eyes have lowered to the ground, unblinking, horror twisting his handsome face. A broken sob escapes me at the sight. Decided, I raise his hands and lay each one on one of my cheeks.
I try to convince myself I'm crying because of the searing pain in my face.
Well. I don't really know what to say after that, so I'll just ask what you guys thought and see ya'll again next chapter.