Hey, guys. This is BD with another installment of the 'Think Yuu Can Escape, Izuku?' This chapter will serve as a filler chapter. In this chapter, Izuku finally confronts Yuu about her actions. How will things turn out? Read and see.
As a reminder, this particular story in this anthology will contain darker elements unlike its comedic predecessor. Due to the graphic nature of this chapter, reader discretion is advised. Enjoy!
Izuku took a deep breath before stepping into the building.
Instead of taking the elevator, Izuku chose the stairs. Every step felt heavier than the last. He focused on gathering the momentum he would need for the confrontation awaiting him. The decision had been made. No more excuses, no more second-guessing.
The word was out: Izuku Midoriya had enough.
What more can he say? The control, the abuse, the possessiveness—treating both him and their daughter like property. It had to stop. He had to stop it. The only thing he wanted once he stepped inside that apartment was freedom.
A divorce.
He reached the door, and suddenly, his stomach twisted. His heart pounded so violently he thought it might burst out of his chest. Sweat dripped down his temple, and as he grasped his keys, his fingers trembled.
Fear.
He knew what Yuu was capable of. What she was willing to do to keep him in her grasp. What she might do to him.
Or worse, what she might do to herself.
The latter thought nearly paralyzed him.
But if he didn't face this fear now, it would never go away.
With a shaky exhale, he inserted the key into the lock, turned it, and pushed the door open. Inside, silence loomed like a predator waiting to pounce.
"Yuu Takeyama, would you accept this divorce?"
The door creaked open, and Izuku stepped inside, pulling it shut behind with a soft click.
Darkness—the apartment was pitch-black, the air thick and stagnant. The curtains were drawn shut—not normal. Yuu always left at least one window cracked open, claiming she liked the feel of the breeze. But now? Nothing.
A prickling sensation crawled up his spine.
"Yuu," he called, his voice firm, though the slight tremor betrayed him. He reached for the light switch, flipping it up.
Nothing.
His stomach twisted.
"Power outage? No. The hallway light was on when I came in." He exhaled slowly, trying to keep his pulse under control. She cut the power to the room. Deliberate.
His fingers tightened around his keys.
"Yuu, answer me!" he barked. "This isn't the time for games!"
No response.
The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. She was here.
She had to be.
Izuku took a careful step forward, his foot barely making a sound on the polished wood floors. The dim glow from the city outside seeped through the heavy curtains, casting distorted shadows across the living room.
Then, he saw them. The suitcase by the couch. The vodka and glass on the kotatsu. And then, the shattered mirror—cracks spider-webbing from the center as if something—or someone had punched it.
Izuku's blood ran cold.
This wasn't normal.
His breath hitched as his eyes flickered across the apartment, taking in the scene with trained precision. Signs of a struggle? No, but something was wrong.
He moved further inside, passing the kotatsu, careful of the shards of glass glistening on the floor. His boots crunched softly against them, and he flinched at the sound. Too loud. Too noticeable.
Then, from somewhere deeper in the apartment—a creak.
His body stiffened. A floorboard. In the hallway.
He turned his head sharply toward the sound, his heart hammering. "She's here. Watching. Waiting."
He forced himself to breathe, his hands clenched into fists. Enough was enough.
"I am not fucking playing, Yuu!" he shouted, his voice echoing in the silence. "Where in the hell are you?"
Silence.
Then, a whisper. Faint. Breathy. Unnerving.
"...right here."
Izuku's entire body locked up. He could barely breathe.
Yuu swayed in the dimly lit hallway, her bare feet barely making a sound against the hardwood floor. The silk of her gown—that gown—dragged slightly as she moved, whispering against the ground.
The same gown she wore on the day they had their "civil" union.
Pristine back then. Stained now.
The delicate white fabric was soaked in crimson, dark streaks staining her arms, trailing from her wrists to her fingertips. Fresh, sticky—a metallic scent coiled in the air.
And in her left hand, held with an almost playful grip—a jagged shard of glass.
"Oh, you're home, baby." It was the slurred sweetness in her voice that made Izuku's stomach lurch. Her lips curved into a familiar, lazy smirk—the one she always used when she wanted to control the conversation.
His feet refused to move forward.
Instead, he stepped back. Not too quickly, not too suddenly, he had told himself. She would have noticed.
Yuu blinked slowly, then sighed—a long, exaggerated breath, as if the movement exhausted her.
"What's the matter?" she asked, tilting her head. Her fingers flexed around the shard, a drop of blood slipping from the tip onto the floor.
Drip!
Drip!
The sound filled the silence like a ticking clock.
"You don't want to embrace your wife?" She asked, displaying a smile.
He clenched his jaw. His mind screamed at him — run, escape, don't let her get close. But his body remained rooted. If he ran, she would have chased him. If he pushed, she would react. If he showed weakness, she would take advantage.
He swallowed hard, his voice tight. "Stay back."
Yuu froze. Then, she giggled. Light. Airy. As if nothing was wrong. "Oh, baby." She lifted the glass shard to her collarbone, dragging the tip lightly across her skin, not enough to cut, but enough to make his stomach twist.
Her eyes were hazy, unfocused. Not entirely there.
"You used t o hold me so close," she murmured. "Do you remember?"
He didn't respond.
Her smile widened, but her eyes glistened.
"You used to say you would never leave me," she whispered. Her free hand lifted slightly, trembling before clenching into a fist. "That I was everything to you."
She let out a soft breath of laughter, shaking her head. "You called me beautiful that night. The night of our union, the night when we exchanged our vows as husband and wife. You do remember that we're married, right?"
"..."
"You told me that I looked like an angel. You told me that I was your everything."
Izuku's heart pounded painfully against his ribs. Nevertheless, he inhaled sharply, his chest rising and falling in controlled, measured breaths. He wouldn't fall for this—not this time.
For years, he had let Yuu dictate their reality, allowed her to manipulate every emotion, every memory, every shred of who he was.
But not tonight. His fingers curled tighter around his keys.
"I'm done," he said, his voice steady. "I'm done pretending. I'm done playing along with the lies."
Yuu's lips parted slightly, her brow twitching in confusion.
He swallowed, forcing himself to keep speaking before she had a chance to twist his words.
"Our 'love,'" he spat the word like it was venom. "...was never real. It wasn't love. It was control. Possession. You created a fantasy where I was yours, and you expected me to live in it."
She blinked slowly. Her expression didn't shift immediately. She stood still, eerily still, her glassy purple eyes locked onto his as if she was processing his words like a machine trying to compute an error.
She began to smile. A soft, almost pitying smile. "Oh, sweetness." Her voice dropped into that syrupy-sweet murmur that made his skin crawl. "Why would you say something so awful?"
She took a step forward, and Izuku tensed.
"You're upset. You're confused. It's okay." She lifted her hand—not the one with the glass, but her bloodied one, as if she meant to touch his cheek. "I forgive you, love."
Izuku flinched away.
It was that, that was what finally made something crack in her expression. A flicker of hurt. But it was gone as fast as it appeared.
Her eyes darkened instead. "Why would you lie?"
The whisper barely escaped her lips, but it carried a weight that made Izuku's stomach coil. Her hand, still suspended in mid-air, trembled slightly before curling into a loose fist.
"You're lying to yourself," she said, shaking her head slowly, almost dazed. "You do love me."
Her voice hardened. "You do love me."
Her fingers dropped to her stomach, rubbing it in slow, delicate circles. Izuku's heart stopped. "And you do love this baby," she whispered, tilting her head. The air turned suffocating. His entire body stiffened.
His lungs felt too tight—his vision tunneled onto her hand, the way it rested over the fabric of her gown, right where her stomach was.
"I know you didn't forget," she purred, watching him with an expression that was both soft and cruel. "You're going to be a father again, sweetness. And you will be there to raise our baby."
Yuu studied his face, drinking in every micro-expression, every hesitation, every crack in his armor. Then, her expression shifted. Her eyes narrowed.
"...Or."
When hearing that word, her tone turned cold. Her grip on the glass tightened. Her head tilted slightly, shadows casting across her face. "Did that bitch you're cheating with tell you to say these awful things?"
He kept his face neutral, schooling his expression into one of calm confusion despite the sickening weight in his stomach.
Yuu's blood-stained fingers twitched around the shard of glass, her grip tightening for a moment before she resumed tracing it against her own skin. Not deep enough to cut. Not yet. But she wanted him to see. She wanted him to squirm.
"You're going to pretend, aren't you?" Yuu murmured, her voice sweet but dripping with poison. "You're going to pretend I don't already know."
Izuku shrugged slightly, keeping up with the act. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Her smirk widened, her eyes darkening. "Oh, sweetness," she cooed. The shard slid down her collarbone, across her chest, to her hip. She let it linger there. "You must really think I'm an idiot."
Her voice dropped lower, like a venomous whisper, like she was enjoying every second of dragging this out.
Izuku's pulse thrummed against his throat, but he forced his posture to remain casual. Playing dumb was the safest option. If she thought he was lying to her face, she would snap. If she thought he was taunting her, she would snap. But if she thought she was in control, if she believed he was scrambling to cover his tracks, she would monologue. She would expose how much she knew. She would talk. And if she was talking, she wasn't hurting him. So he kept his expression blank.
"Are you sure you're not imagining things?" he asked, tilting his head slightly.
Yuu laughed. A soft, breathy giggle at first, then a deeper, heavier. Hysterical. Her body shook from how hard she was laughing, but her eyes never lost that glint of malice. "Imagining?" she repeated.
Then, she stopped laughing. Her expression went flat. "You think I would imagine the way that gaijin bitch looked at you?" Her fingers dug into the glass, a fresh bead of blood slipping down her wrist. "I knew she was a threat the moment I saw her."
She took a step forward. Izuku didn't move, at least not yet.
"She thought she was so clever." She made another step.
"As if I wouldn't notice the way you looked at her amber eyes when you handed her coffee at work." Her voice turned sharper, the sweetness peeling away.
"As if I wouldn't watch." Izuku's breath hitched. "She was watching?"
Yuu licked her lips, grinning now, pleased with herself. "Oh, my love," she whispered. "You forget. I have every right to monitor you."
The words made his stomach churn. Then, her smile faded, her lips pressing into a thin, pale line. "You must have thought you were so smart." The glass slid down her stomach. Her voice was soft now, cold. "You didn't even notice me, did you?"
Izuku forced himself not to react. But something inside him snapped when she said, "I was there, sweetness."
His jaw clenched.
"I was right there. Watching you behind the dumpster at the coffeehouse, watching you flirt with her like a common street whore."
Ice shot down his spine. Despite the horror crawling up his throat, he still played coy.
"Interesting," he said smoothly, forcing an indifferent tone. "You never mentioned this before."
Her face twitched. Then she sighed, shaking her head. "You were always such a terrible liar, baby." Her grip on the glass twitched. "You really thought I wouldn't find out about your little bike ride to the mountains?"
He barely kept his face from betraying him. His throat went dry.
"Oh yes," she hummed, her voice turning mocking, "I know all about your secret rendezvous at her apartment." She laughed again, but it was hollow. "Tell me, did she fuck you good? Did she suck your dick the way I would? Did you grind into her pussy? Getting her all wet? Did you nut in her like she was your woman?!" She scoffed. "Private, my ass. You were both so careless. So, so careless."
Izuku's fingers flexed, his mind racing.
Yuu noticed and tilted her head, feigning mock hurt. "I waited for you to tell me." Her breath hitched, a sharp intake of air. "I gave you a chance to tell me, sweetheart." Her face darkened and her jaw clenched. "But instead of coming clean, you brought that thing around our daughter." She was shaking now.
Not from sadness. Not from grief. From rage. Her voice came out in a low, guttural whisper. "Did you hear me, sweetness?"
Izuku didn't answer.
Her fist flew back.
CRACK!
The drywall splintered beneath her bare knuckles, a sharp dent forming where she had punched through the wall. Her chest heaved. Her eyes burned. "Going behind my fucking back with that gaijin whore. Playdates with our daughter."
Izuku's stomach dropped. Yuu was seething now.
"As if that cunt had the gall…" Her body shook violently. "...the nerve." her grip on the glass tightened to the point of breaking. "To think she wanted to play stepmother to my daughter."
The room felt smaller. The air felt suffocating. Yuu's gaze locked onto his, and for the first time that night, Izuku felt pure dread.
"Do you really think—," she murmured. It was mocking, amused, cruel, "that I was going to let you and that whore ride off into the sunset with our daughter?"
Izuku forced himself to breathe. One inhale, one exhale, needing to focus.
"Think, think, think." He thought to himself.
Yuu tilted her head, watching him carefully, as if waiting for him to break.
"Think again, Izuku Midoriya." She savored his name on her tongue, stretching each syllable like a taunt. Then, her expression shifted. All amusement drained away. Her face became eerily blank, void of emotion. Her next words dropped like lead. "Hear. This. Now."
Izuku's throat tightened.
"You and I," she continued, her voice was very calm, very firm, and very final, "will forever be side-by-side."
Her bare feet stepped forward, slow and deliberate. One step at a time.
"As lovers."
Another step.
"As partners."
Another step.
"As parents."
Her eyes gleamed.
"As soulmates."
Izuku's fingers curled into a tight fist. He knew what was coming.
"Or," she stopped just inches away. Izuku could feel her breath on his skin, warm and faintly laced with vodka. "Or…" she whispered again, softer this time.
Her lips curled back into a sickening smile. "We will be carried side-by-side when the coroners come and pick us up." The words sank into his chest like a blade. He swallowed, forcing down the wave of nausea crawling up his throat. She meant it. She meant every damn well.
Yuu lifted a bloodied hand, placing it against his chest. It was warm, sticky, smearing red over his shirt. "I have invested too much," she murmured, "for this family—for us—to watch it crumble because of that bitch."
Her fingers gripped his shirt, pulling him closer. "I have invested too much in you, Izuku." Her lips ghosted over his cheek, her breath slow and uneven. "I refuse," she murmured, "to see it dismantled."
Izuku's stomach churned, his pulse hammering in his skull. The exits were gone and the game had changed. Yuu wasn't just threatening him anymore. She had already decided the ending. And he was trapped inside it.
"I'm going to say that you and I were having a holiday," she continued, her voice almost dreamy. Like she was weaving the perfect story. "You did your thing." Her glass-tipped fingers trailed up his chest. "I did my thing."
The pressure in his ribs tightened. "But like all pleasantries…" She leaned in, lips brushing his ear. "It must come to an end." Izuku's back pressed harder against the door. No more space. No more space.
Her head tilted back, her smile widening as she lifted the glass shard to her lips. She kissed the bloody edge as she met his eyes.
"What do you say?" she whispered, voice dripping with mock affection. His breath hitched. She had trapped him in a cage of words. No good answer, no good choice. Then her voice lowered to a whisper. "Because you're not going to leave."
His chest constricted. Her words felt like a chain snapping shut. She inhaled softly, then sighed contentedly. "Through the bad and the good. Through sickness and in health." She tilted her head, her golden hair slipping forward. Her grip tightened on his shirt. "Till death do us part." She pecked him on the lips. "The choice is yours."
Yuu's lips crashed against his again — hot and desperate, her fingers twisting into his hair as she forced him to give in.
His muscles tensed, every fiber of his being screaming to fight back, but she had pinned him in place. Smacking noises filled the room, her breath heavy and uneven, a mixture of lust and obsession, dripping into every feverish press of her lips.
Her nails dug into his chest. Then, the cold metal.
The glass shard pressed against his shirt, sharp enough to remind him of the edge, but not deep enough to cut. "Oh, baby," she murmured between kisses, her voice drenched in twisted devotion. "I won't ever let you go." Her lips trailed down his jaw, his neck. "I would never set you free."
The blade slid up, ghosting his skin.
"You belong to me."
Another kiss.
"And only me."
Izuku couldn't breathe. Her words dug into him deeper than the blade ever could. The more she spoke, the more it sank in. His future flashed before his eyes. A future where he was forever trapped in this nightmare. Where every morning he would wake up to her twisted affections. Where every step he took, every breath he made, every interaction he had was monitored. Controlled. Owned.
Where their daughter, his Yuri-chan, grew up in a cage.
Just like him.
"No. NO!"
His mind ripped through the past. The control, the torment, the gaslighting. But one memory slammed into him like a hammer, shattering everything.
The hospital room.
The doctor.
The accusation.
'Doctor, I am not sure how Yuriko isn't getting these spots on her back. But, it certainly didn't come from me.'
'I believe you but you know that wouldn't hold in court if I were to report this. The stress Yuri-chan is inhibiting is due to some kind of obstruction. Is everything alright in the home?'
'Her mother has been stressed out lately. I can't say how things are with Yuri-chan whenever I am not at home.'
'Do you think Takeyama exhibits postpartum depression? It's very common with mothers after childbirth.'
'Yuu isn't always right in the head, chemical imbalance.'
'I'm going to pretend that we didn't have this conversation. As a doctor, I really should advise someone about those burns on your daughter's back. But as a friend, get Yuri-chan out of there. I know what Yuu is capable of and she doesn't need to be around that environment.'
'You know my situation.'
'Your daughter comes first. What is the court going to say when you two are hand-in-hand in handcuffs? Warning comes before destruction. Listen to me, Izuku. Yuu is hurting that child and that is why Yuri-chan is sick. Do what is best for your daughter and get out.'
His entire body ignited. Yuriko—his daughter. His baby girl. The one thing he swore to protect. His first priority, his only priority. His heartbeat roared in his ears, drowning out the sounds of Yuu's kisses, drowning out the nightmare trying to consume him.
No more.
His hands shot forward, shoving Yuu back with a force that nearly knocked her off balance. She gasped, stumbling slightly, her eyes wide with shock.
"B-Baby," she stammered, confusion flickering in her face. "What are you doing?"
His chest heaved, his breath sharp, his vision burning. And then, he snapped.
"Shut the fuck you, you bitch!"
Yuu flinched.
"Enough is ENOUGH!" Izuku roared, his voice shaking the walls. His hands were fists at his sides, his jaw clenched so tightly it hurt. "You are NOT going to keep me locked up like some damn dog!"
Yuu's lips parted, but no sound came out.
"I don't give a DAMN what lies you tell yourself!" he continued, his voice thick with fury. "I don't care about the fantasy you've created! I WILL NEVER LOVE YOU!"
Izuku stepped forward. Yuu's entire body went still. The words hit her like a blade to the gut. For the first time ever, she was the one backing away.
"I am done being your prisoner. I am done being your puppet. I am done letting you control my life. And above all, I am done letting you hurt my daughter."
His hands were clenched, his breath ragged, but his voice remained firm. Even as his heart pounded, even as adrenaline flooded in his veins, he kept his eyes locked onto hers.
"Unlike you," he said, his voice sharp but unwavering, "I won't afflict abuse on you."
Yuu's breath hitched, her grip on the glass tightening.
"I won't threaten you with violence." His stance remained strong, unyielding. "The only reason I came here to tell you this."
A pause. One last chance.
"Grant me a divorce."
Silence choked the room. His gaze never wavered.
"Please, grant me a divorce." His voice softened just slightly, but not with hesitation—with finality. "Just let me go." His next words struck like a hammer. "Let me be at peace. Let my daughter and I be at peace."
Suddenly, white-hot, blinding rage twisted her beautiful face into something monstrous. Her grip tightened around the glass shard. Her purple eyes burned with fury, madness, and betrayal. "If I can't you—" Her body lurched forward. "Then NO ONE'S gonna!"
Yuu sprinted at him, glass flashing in the dim light. Izuku reacted instantly. His foot snapped upward.
….!
CRACK!
His boot collided with her face. A sickening thud echoed as Yuu's head snapped backward, her entire body reeling. She stumbled, her feet losing balance. Then, she fell.
Her body hit the ground, the glass clattering from her hand. It was the opening he needed. Izuku turned and ran.
His legs burned, but he pushed forward, tearing down the hallway toward the elevator. Every step, every second, counted. Just as his fingers brushed the elevator button, he heard a piercing cry.
"YOU'RE NEVER GONNA LEAVE ME!"
The scream ripped through the air. A blur of golden hair and rage lunged behind him. Izuku whipped around. Yuu was on her feet again, sprinting, her face twisted in pure insanity.
No time.
No time.
The elevator was too slow. He ran.
Tearing toward the stairwell, he shoved the door open, bursting through. His boots slammed against the steps as he flew downward, two at a time. Behind him, the door crashed open.
She was following.
Her bare feet slapped against the stairs as she chased him, her voice shrill with rage. "Izuku! You think you can run from me?!"
He didn't stop. He didn't look back.
"Faster, faster!"
Floor three — his lungs burned.
Floor two — his heartbeat thundered.
Floor one — his mind spun.
She was expecting him to head for the main exit. She was expecting him to run to the foyer.
So he wouldn't. His feet pivoted hard. Instead of going through the main door, he swerved left, toward the side exit. He had to throw her off. Behind him, Yuu barreled down the stairs, screaming.
"IZUKU, YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME!"
His fingers slammed against the emergency exit bar. The door burst open. Cold air rushed into his lungs. He didn't stop. He didn't breathe.
He sprinted to oblivion.
To be continued….
BD: A turning point indeed for Izuku. However, we already know how things are going to turn out. Stay tuned as we are getting closer to the conclusion of this particular story. As always, God bless and team Greenshade.