Hey, guys. Big Diesel and [girlfriendoftheauthor] here with another story for Izuku's Sisters. This newest vanilla drama-romance involves Izuku and Nejire. Warning: the story contains strong graphic content involving past abuse and ageplay (Nejire is eighteen and Izuku is thirteen). Discretion is advised. Enjoy! As a reminder, Izuku's Sister is a loving, heartwarming, vanilla series.
It was through the nudging of the bus driver that awoken Nejire Hadou from her slumber. She moaned harshly, hitting the hand of the person who disturbed her light slumber, the first time she was received consistent sleep in the last couple of days. The bus driver looked over the petite teenager, releasing the musk of his day's work into her nose. She opened her eyes, wiping its sleepiness followed by wiping the saliva with her sleeve. She was careful, as the slightest brush could hit the cut on her cheek. She stared into the eyes of the bus driver, giving him a look, as if why would he do such a thing? She scanned her surroundings, noticing that she was the only passenger on the bus. She quickly turned to the window, where realizing she was at the bus depot.
Without saying another word, she bowed before the bus driver and excused herself from the seat. She picked up her backpack and made her exit from the bus. The warmth of the bus terminal contrasted the coolness from the bus. She felt her pores opening, awakening her senses and to be on alert. She was grateful that she packed light. Only the essentials, she concluded as she made her way from the terminal and onto the neighboring streets.
She hoped that the money she saved from tutoring and her allowance could sustain her for a few days until she could make living arrangements. As she scanned on the internet for a hostel, she found a 24-hour manga cafe that can accommodate her with showers and continental breakfast. Although she knew of its poor quality of its ratings, it was in her price range. She also carried a taser in case of anyone coming to attack her. Of course, she had her secret identity of Nejire-chan to defend herself from danger, but that was if the moment was desperate.
She walked to a trash can and pulled out her cell phone. She opened it and pulled out the SIM card. She didn't want anyone to know of her whereabouts, and that meant her friends. Despite their long-lasting sisterhood, her departure was a means of losing all access to everyone; and that meant separating herself from her friends. She swallowed nothing as she through the SIM card in the trash can. She walked a few feet to another trash can. She broke the screen with her foot and discarded that in the trash. With her new phone in her backpack, she knew that was one less thing to worry about.
Since entering high school, she felt like she was floating in the motions. Since being accepted into a prestigious, elite high school, things have been falling out of place. No longer could she see her friends because of the hectic work schedule her parents, as well as her teachers, had placed on her. The only time she could spend with the other team members was when they were on missions. Even through those missions, she felt depleted. Even the joys of being a superheroine were succumbing to her as well.
She was tired of being a shadow.
Nejire was fortunate that there was a park nearby from the bus terminal. The reservation for the manga cafe wasn't for another few hours, leaving her with time to kill. She didn't complain, the blue-haired teen was grateful for the alone time and the nothingness of space within her brain. She was able to breathe, she thought to herself as she made her to the slide. She sat at the foot of it and scanned the area. No one was around. It didn't surprise the superheroine as she knew that many of the children were still in school.
She was supposed to be in school. She kind of felt like a villain, she thought to herself as she reached into her backpack and pulled out her composition notebook. What should have been a notebook for her studying has been a documentation of her life; or in other words, a journal. She lightly touched the wound on her cut; still fresh like the feelings she got from the person who had given it to her. She shook her head in disappointment. She took another sharp breath as she tore a piece of paper from the notebook. She made it into a paper airplane. She looked into the morning sun and threw it into parts unknown. Of course, she knew it would land eventually at some point, but honestly, she didn't care.
With her eighteenth birthday approaching, she was growing tired of being the honor student. She was growing tired of being a shadow under everyone's expectations.
The word itself was like water, absorbing into her sponge-like mind. Along with being a studious scholar, a member of every academic club in her school, and scoring top marks, placing her at the top of her class, she has been used to be under a shadow.
She was like an ant, observed through the eyes of the magnifying glass. A shadow cast upon her before the end hits her exact center.
A center.
She questioned in the seventeen years of her existence of where was her center. Was it hidden in the abundance of textbooks she became accustomed to carrying to and from class? Was it hidden in the number of notes she written in the warm, dusty confines of her classroom? Was it hidden through the painstaking hours of studying for exams and working on homework to assure her future in a top national school? With the high expectations of her parents? Her teachers? Her tutor? Her friends?
Where was her center?
She stretched her arms wide like a bird does where they began to take flight. Many times she prayed to God for the spirit of flight. Transition to transcend into a being to go wherever they desired. No laws to challenge them on their destination. The ability to make decision on whatever route they chose. Even if they go against the wind, the factor that they can combat made it amazing, she thought.
Many, many nights she prayed. Many nights she asked for flight. Many nights she asked for escape. From the stress of school, from the pressure of her teachers, from her parents, and overall, herself. Nejire knew at some point she couldn't stay in the same place. Her friends were going to worry. She was grateful that she had a few hours of borrowed time before leaving for the next town. She was wise to not stay at the same place for too long. The biggest thing she didn't want to happen was to return home to her parents. Back in the treacherous hands of her mother and especially through the rough, callous hands of her father.
Nejire, it is important that you attend school so you can become a hard worker. Don't you want to make the Hadou name great?
Why did your grades drop a few points? Aren't we pushing you hard enough?
Do we have to cut time from your friends if you don't study harder?
Ms. Hadou, I expect the best out of you. This B doesn't show growth. Are you a B student?
Nejire, sweetheart, your father is only being harsh because we expect more from you.
No daughter of mine is going to be a damn failure. We didn't spend this much money for you to fail. Do you want to end up like a dumbass waiting tables at some cosplay restaurant? Do you need to break away from your friends? If they are putting you down, then I will forbid you from seeing them.
Not surprised about that Hadou girl scoring great. Is that all she does is study? No wonder she has issues.
That girl broke the curve again. I am sick of this bitch thinking she is better than us with these grades.
What makes you think you are great, Hadou? We ought to kick your ass for embarrassing us.
High school wasn't always easy for Nejire. She had become a victim of hazing. The students wrote expletives on her desk; her locker was vandalized; anonymous hate mail; and constant verbal and physical attacks from her classmates. She had reported it to the principal and they turned a blind eye. She told her parents but believed that if she wanted to survive, then she must work harder and ignore the anguish of school. Her father, stern and surly, often reminded Nejire with this piece of advice: 'if you weak, then you beat. It is a tough world and if you can't handle those things, then why survive?'
It was her father that was the final straw for the superhero. Her father was never the caring type. His word was law in the Hadou household and expectations were upheld. An aide to the mayor, his reputation and dedication made him dutiful and worthy of himself. Therefore, he expected his wife and his daughter to the same; with the latter facing more of the pressure.
Despite his pressure, her mother called it the love of a father for a child. Then what happened that evening when she received the cut on her face, she thought to herself.
It was a few evenings ago. She was returning home for the evening where she was greeted with a teeth-rattling slap from her father. Without a second, she defended herself as she was wailing for her father to stop hitting her. She cried for her mother, she cried for her friends, anyone that could save her. None of that happened. When he was finished, he returned to the kitchen where he continued drinking his bourbon. All the while, her mother was washing the dishes, or the same dish as she covered her eyes from witnessing her helpless daughter begging for help.
That night, when her parents went to sleep, she packed what she needed and made the escape. Blinded with the tears and clothed in the purple marks from her father, she departed into the night.
She put those thoughts aside and dusted herself off as she stood up. She wandered the area. As she was looking for a swing to sit, she saw another person occupying the area. He was swinging loudly as if there wasn't any care in the world. At some point, he would stop, and suddenly he would hop off and play again. For a moment, it distracted Nejire, leaving her with a pleasant smile.
The boy looked young, carefree and playful, she thought. He was wearing a red shirt and jeans. What stood out to Nejire was the color of his hair. It reminded her of an emerald, she thought to herself. She found it strange to see him playing by himself. Judging from his excitement, it mattered not to him.
At least I can tell he doesn't have a care in the world.
She took a breath as she made her way to the swings. The emerald-haired child continued playing on it. Nejire took a seat at the end of the swing. The moment she sat, the child looked. He blushed and quickly turned around from Nejire. She noticed the quickness of his aversion. She concluded that either he was shy of seeing people or shy of being around a girl.
Nejire wasn't the one to show off her looks. She was very humble about her appearance. Her beauty has been dubbed as mysterious; because it takes a special kind of person to fathom it. She had pale skin, big blue eyes, and extremely long, light blue hair that reached all the way down to her legs and apparently twists around itself at the waist area.
She continued to stare at the teen until she was able to break the silence.
"My name is Nejire." She spoke to him calmly. She was cautious. She didn't want to do anything to make the child leave. Judging by his appearance, he didn't look too far from her, maybe four or five years younger, she thought. She watched as the boy turned and received her smile. He extended his hand to shake it with Nejire.
"My name is Izuku. Izuku Midoriya," replied the emerald-haired child.
"Nice to meet you, Izuku," answered Nejire.
"Thanks," he blushed.
"What brings a child like you playing by yourself," questioned Nejire while holding on to the swings.
"On a family vacation," answered Izuku. "My parents are shopping at God-knows-where. I told them I wanted to stay close to the hotel." He pointed to the building a few yards away from the park. "That is where we are staying. Anyway, I told them I would play in the park until they come back."
"Interesting," she said. "Are you the loner type?"
"Not really," he said. "Just wanted some time to myself. It can be tough living in a household being an only child."
"An only child?"
He nodded his head. "That's right." He turned to her. "How about you? What brings you out here today?"
"Just cruising around," replied Nejire. For a moment, she forgot that she was running away from home. She sighed as she trying to keep her composure. "I do that sometimes because I like exploring things."
"Exploring? Me too, Nejire," said Izuku. "That is why I am glad that I am able to visit Tokyo."
His beaming smile was precious to Nejire. She thought she saw swirls on his puffy cheeks. He was very adorable, she thought to herself. She knew she still had spare time until going to the manga cafe, she thought to spend more time with him.
"Say, Izuku. I know we just met, but I saw an ice cream store around the way. Do you care to stop by and keep me company?"
Izuku was taken aback, but he kept calm. "I am unsure if I can go with you. I promised my parents that I will keep close."
"You can trust me, Izuku," replied Nejire. "It is around the way. Not too far from the hotel. How about this?" She pulled out her school ID. "You can take a picture of it and send it to your parents. I promise I am not the type to lurk. I won't kidnap you or anything. I just want some ice cream with you."
He took the school ID from Nejire. She watched him take a picture before returning it to her.
"Ok, I hope I can trust you," he responded. "Shall we go?"
"Great," she smiled. She reached for her backpack and led him to the ice cream shop.
As the pair were leaving the park, she furrowed her face. A glimpse of her father entered her mind.
You can't amount to shit if you don't pick your grades up.
I told you I want the best. Is this your best, Nejire?
You better not embarrass me with that horrid performance again, Nejire.
She shook those thoughts. She took Izuku by the hand and were making their way to the ice cream shop.