Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Why don't you play with us anymore? You're boring."

...

"Your quirk will make it extremely hard to breathe. Hence the oxygen mask. If you'd like, we can give you an alternative that makes it easier to walk around with. The problem is that you'll have a permanent puncture on your neck. Are you willing to do this, young child?" 

A slow nod from the young child as they clutched hard on the All Might plush in their arms.  "I'll tell your father, then."

...

After a few minutes, their father walked in, a grim expression plastered on his face. The same quirk that took his wife from him, his beloved child now has. How much more cruel can fate be?

...

"I personally think that all quirks are the best, and anyone who doesn't have one is a loser."

"Is it really bad if you don't have one? Should you have one, Bakugo? What if you... don't want one...?"

"Then you're a weirdo who shouldn't be friends with me." Harsh words. Especially harsh considering their situation.

A quirk that doesn't give its user the ability to live a free life without struggle may as well be a genetic curse.

...

Here {Reader} stood, patiently waiting for their bus. It's been a good 10 years since they left Musutafu and now they were there again.

Maybe this time things will be different.

Things have been different since your father's passing, so you came back, even if he would hate knowing that he drove you back there. Not that it matters. You're here for work and it's not like your relatives hold you in a high enough regard to bother helping.

They hated your mother, so it was natural for you to be next in tow. You just wished they weren't so eager to hook your father up with who they deemed "acceptable" at her funeral. You had vague memories, but you do remember a woman in red came over, and your relatives were so elated.  Now that you look back on it, they invited her to a funeral to cosy up to your father so that she could marry him and dump you.

Sickening.

At least now you were back in the city, away from them.

The bus finally arrived, and they went in, paying the fare and sitting down.

The bus quietly hummed as it drove down to the city. When it came their stop, {Reader} got off and made their way to their new workplace and apartment. When they got there, it looked exactly as advertised. A small  minimart that sold comics, with the housing on the third floor. Quietly knocking on the door, they were greeted by Kashiwagi Michiru, the owner of the store.

An old soul who's appearance was akin to that of a kind-hearted panda.

"You can come in, child." A voice that disarms, too. Michiru guided {Reader} to their new room on that third floor. A double sized bed with several blankets, sheets and pillows sprawled all over the room, and {Reader}'s bags which arrived before them, it seems.

It looked like comfort compared to the hellhole they had just come from.

They were left to their devices, to which they plopped down onto the bed, exasperated and all around tired. Just days before was their father's funeral, and now they were here.

"So many arguments..."

At least now they had a cool view of the sunset due to the store being on the other side of the beach.

They looked out the window and sighed. "Tomorrow..."

Chapter Text

Now it was early morning. Next day, same old emptiness.

It felt strangely comforting now, like getting used to the cold water at a pool. They got up, searching for a bathroom.

As soon as they did, they prepared some hot water and went about stripping down, taking out their new uniform: a dark blue shirt with a smiley face on the breast pocket, and white shorts.

Scratching at their head, {Reader} walked back into the bathroom, sinking into the tub. The water was scalding, to say the least, and it burned away at bruises, making them wince a little.

It wasn't as bad after a few seconds, though–thanks to their godforsaken quirk–and after they finished bathing, got out, spilled the water, and got back into their room.

After around 10 minutes, they arrived downstairs, headed for the cash register, seeming annoyed by the smell of some customers.

It was to be expected, but not at such a disgusting degree. One would assume that at the very least, not so many of them would have such a foul odor about them. Irregardless, they brought money in, and that's what mattered most.

At least to {Reader} it was like that.

Over the course of the day, several individuals came about, a good slew of them callously talking about lolicon and borderline pedophilic things, causing police to be secretly called over 9 times in 6 hours.

Just as {Reader} was about to take a lunch break, deciding that 6 hours was enough for the moment, someone barged in, almost scaring them into screaming aloud.

Almost immediately, they could see him. Striking platinum blond hair shaped in spikes. When he saw them, his angry expression faltered, with genuine surprise peeking through.

{Reader} couldn't understand why, though. They didn't recognize him.

Maybe it was the way his eyes changed over time. They were almost gentler, with that same fiery ambition remaining. Maybe it was the fact that he was in his hero suit with the mask on to boot.

He moved across the store quietly, causing {Reader} to check the security cameras.

If someone could have two grenades casually attached to their arms, anything is possible.

For a moment he looked down at them before swiftly taking them off, holding both in one hand and a few All Might CDs in the other.

They were new ones from his time spent in Russia. Most people didn't even know of their existence.

A die-hard fan, it seems.

When he came to the counter, they leaned on the desk, a cheeky smile on their face. "That'll be 50 yen."

He placed a 50 on the desk, and they looked at him in mock offense, ronging him up and turning around to search for a plastic bag in the thousand different cupboards behind them. Same routine with every customer.

He took the opportunity to scan over their body. Scarred all over. Either bruises or long gashes that are slowly fading with time.

They also had a rather nice body shape. Not by Japanese beauty standards, but still healthy all around.

They then turned to him, staring daggers into his soul. It felt like that at least.

With a tired expression, half-lidded eyes, and an intensity about them that couldn't quite be placed. He barely noticed his stuff being thrown into the plastic bag and being handed to him, to which {Reader} had to poke him on the chest, causing a jerk back and he almost raised his left arm at her. Scoffing, he grabbed the plastic and stormed out, embarrassed to say the least.

"Wonder what that was about?"

Something felt awfully familiar. Almost painstakingly so.

Maybe it was a misplaced memory. Those were common. Or just dejá vú.

One day down, four months more left to go until the day of retribution.

"I'll see you soon, Ma."

Chapter Text

The store was closed after that rather strange customer. He was cute, though. At least the look of surprise was. The scowl reminded them of an "unhappy breakfast".

Shaking their head, now headed on the journey of the week: not necessarily a task, but something {Reader} does every time they are in Musutafu–visit the grave if their mother.

Upon arriving at the cemetery, they walked past several graves, smelling the dried liquids all over, making them crinkle their nose before taking out the mask and put it on. It made it so much easier to breathe and it stopped their quirk from changing their entire circulatory system in the name of water.

A good hack to life. It no longer meant frequent hospital visits.

Once they arrived at their mother's grave, holding a bouquet of sunflowers. It was hard to get them, and in shame they hadn't visited the grave in order to get said bouquet. He'll, they were even growing some sunflowers in that apartment, right by the window.

It was their mother's favourite and they were not gonna let that be forgotten to time.

The grave was a bit stuffy, with a significant amount of dirt on the tombstone. Thankfully, {Reader} was prepared, refusing to let something like that happen.

They had their backpack with them, stuffed full of cleaning supplies, a pot in case the one at this grave got stolen–which it was–and a lunchbox right on top of it all. Beautiful packing skills.

...

Now the grave had looked as clean as ever, with the tombstone almost sparkling.

{Reader} was currently being watched. Not a dangerous watch. Just... curious.

...

Now, {Reader} was standing on the roof of the building, finally having the opportunity to gaze at the sunset. A blazing orange colour fading into red the further away from the sunset you looked, and then eventually blue again. Beautiful, and passionate. It felt familiar.

They couldn't figure out why, though. Why did something like this feel so... nostalgic...? Like there was someone attached to this image..?

Maybe they'd go to Musutafu again, just to find out who it was.

Leaning on the balcony meant they could hear a lot of chatter down below, most of which was about UA students, whoever they were. Some girls around their age started giggling, fawning over one of them, named Dynamite. "He's such a bad boy! I'd bet he's a loyal dog to his partners." "There's also a chance he isn't, you know?" "You're so negative, Aira! Come on, let's go to the karaoke club before it gets full!"

How strange. Dynamite. That name reminded them of the strange customer today. Everything about him screamed Dynamite. They're not wrong when they say he's a bad boy, but he seems to follow the rules well enough. Maybe it's the attitude and appearance he had. Makes sense.

"He is hot..." A quiet whisper accompanied with a lower lip bite, their top lip fully covering the bottom one.

A shake of the head. "I need sleep."

Chapter Text

Another day, different task. Instead of cashier, {Reader} was supposed to go to the supplier to oversee some stock coming in. No problem.

After all, they had the rest of the day off from this, so what was the worst that could happen?

A villain attack on the main road to said suppliers, causing a 6km walk() over waiting a potential twelve hours.

A hero was kind enough to help them. She had lovely features: flowing green hair, round bug eyes and a long tongue. The help was extremely appreciated, and {Reader} couldn't help but think about it the whole time afterward, only to get their thoughts interrupted by one of the suppliers.

"Well look who we got ourselves! Name's AJ. You need to sign a couple of documents and then I'll let you be on your way. Or not. Depends on big man over there."

A resignated sigh. This would take a while. No matter, though.

...

AJ stared at them, switching his gaze from their lips to the eyes.
"Beautiful..."He muttered, clearing his throat.

{Reader} had a straight expression. One that was clear: this was strictly business, and nothing more.

Oh, how some lucky guy had the opportunity to love them, hold them... His thoughts were straying. He shook his head, jerking a thumb at the guy that seemed stressed. "Go over to him. He's the guy you need to talk to for the stock and all. Good luck." A short hold of the shoulder.

He couldn't help it. He needed them at this point. Was it a bit much for an initial encounter? Yes, but he's long noted that he's mentally out of it. Besides, he'd make a profit off of them.

...

{Reader} stared at him, eyes narrowing. In their heart and soul, something was off with this man, but they'd have top ignore it. He wasn't the one they were looking for. That manager over there was.

...

Finally, after it was all done, they called a cab back to the store. Walking up the stairs behind the stairs, constantly checking over their shoulder as a result of AJ, feeling a deep sense of dread creep up on them. He couldn't have possibly followed them, right?

As it turned out, they were right.
It wasn't AJ, but someone else entirely.

"Who the hell are you and what are you doing doing at my house!?"
"Would you shut up already, you nagging extra?!"

"Nagging?" Genuine surprise and anger was now sprawled all over their face, and it made him stop for a moment before getting slapped hard across the face before they scrambled, already dialling the police. Would they even answer at thus time? Doesn't matter. It's not like they wouldn't notice, anyway.

Chapter Text

After chasing {Reader} all around the block, he finally grabbed them and shoved them against the wall, palm in their face. "Keep moving and you'll see what happens."
This was the exact opposite of what was meant to happen. Did they really forget all about him like that? There's no way... right..?

{Reader} stayed frozen, eyes wide and mouth partially open. For a moment, they saw their mother again, and it almost became clear why she died. The bright colours illuminated by his hero suit didn't help either. It felt... visually blinding, and their vision was going hazy. "My meds... fuck."

That soft murmur caught his attention before realizing their body had slumped against the wall he cornered them to, their knees buckling immediately.

The panic set in. Meds? There was medication they were on? Did he cause them to collapse? Fuck.

He held onto their body, only now realizing that it felt slimy and wet, like a fish. Worst of all, they were sweating... or secreting the slimy substance. Didn't matter. {Reader} was slowly starting to choke. In a panic, he took them back to the apartment, rummaging through their pockets to find the key, and immediately bolted for the bathroom, setting them down and pouring water to fill the tub, and then looking around for any sort of pills that they seemed to mention. Was it pills or a liquid medication? No, just look for anything that looked medicinal.

He found it eventually, and it was, in fact, pills. He took them and a glass of water, walking back into the tub, setting them down on the sink and closing the tap. For a moment, he sat on the closed toilet, hand over his mouth. He'd fucked up. Horribly.
What were they going to say to him when they eventually woke up? They were going to call the cops, no doubt, and they'll want nothing to do with him, obviously, which was bad since the only reason he came over was to talk to them. To really see if it was them or if his mind was playing tricks on him.

Either way, he needed to give the meds and leave when they were fine. Simple plan, right?

...

They were now back to normal, albeit passed out, but safe. He left, leaving one of his grenades in the bathroom sink, ashamed of his own actions.

It was Midoriya all over again, and he hated that.

...

When {Reader} finally woke up, they were strapped to a bunch of tubes in a hospital bed, with their left hand cuffed to their bed. There was a nurse on standby, who seemingly smiled when they woke up. "Hush now, child. You're staying here. We got some people who need some of those organs of yours, and since you're so adamant on killing yourself... or being a terrorist... whichever one it is, still counts as a suicide attempt, darling. Your diary doesn't help either. Just full of, "I'll meet you soon, Ma"s that make you look so guilty. Don't worry, though. Your wish will be granted soon enough."
She grabbed a syringe, and inserted into the IV drip, and almost as soon as they awoke, {Reader} was asleep again.

"Should work... worry, darling, your... That's all..."

He shouldn't have left, let alone leave a potential murderous weapon behind, but that's what rash decision making looks like. Then again, the hospital should've been informed first above all.

Stupid.

Chapter Text

They finally stumbled awake, now in a cold, desolate room.
"I have a question for you."

The voice was raspy, and sounded like it had been damaged for years.

...

"What...?"
It was more confusion than it was a go-ahead, but he still took it as such to continue. "In a way, both me and you are the same. Cursed by our own quirks. Ain't that funny..?"

They looked at the man saying this, and let out a gasp. Purple, bruised skin, as burned and rotted as it was, was stapled to his skin. It made him look grotesque... in a strangely alluring way.

Beauty within what was ugly, they supposed. "How could we ever be the same..?" It was unwise to just start demanding who this man was. There were a multitude of things he could do to them and since {Reader} was bound to a chair like a wild animal that went rogue, they wouldn't be able to do anything.
"Your quick makes it hard to breathe, no? You had a seizure of sorts and almost died due to half you body turning into that of a fish without water. It's a given that your quirk inconveniences you. If you can't even be passed out without the guarantee of dying, that is."

...

{Reader} simply stared at him, with his piercing blue eyes staring right back. He'd been lighting his hand on fire all the while, still keeping that same eye contact. \
The bastard knew how dangerous he was, and wasn't afraid to flaunt it.

"Who are you...?"
"Your new boyfriend, hostage. Now, if you keep asking questions, I'll make you look like my carbon copy. Understood?''

He only now found out and was scouring everywhere.

All because of that stupid grenade. Fucking hell, I'm an idiot! 

Like always, making stupid decisions. Where would he even begin to look?

Hell, they kept relocating so damn much that the only time you'd see the L.O.V was when they attacked, and that wasn't helpful.

Consequences have actions.

Chapter Text

"Let me strike a deal with ya. You stay our hostage until that grenade boy comes over and then you're free to go. That sound good...?"
It had been a few good hours. {Reader}  had been in and out of consciousness, and the villain couldn't seem to care less, focusing more on the staples of his skin and replacing them with new, clean ones.

He kept to himself, occasionally going up to them and checking their pulse, sometimes spooking them as they awoke when he did that with his hands, seeming to have forgotten how hot they were to the touch.

That said, he was rather quiet, choosing not to engage over answering their endless questions when they were awake.

"Just so you know, we had you stitched up by one of our... doctors. You don't have any missing organs... at least not anymore."
He said it so casually, too. "Your body is still trying to readjust to that fact, hence the drowsiness." When he saw their head tipping again, he held them by the forehead. "Heard you have some memory problems. A lot of trauma to your head that seems as recent as a month ago, Overhaul said. Seems to be true. You don't recognize a soul and you don't seem to recognize it, do ya? Well then. Let me tell you my story, since yours is buried in your head.

As he began to speak, their eyes widened in eventual horror. "Endeavor...? Who... what... oh." They looked down, feeling nothing but a pool of shame settle in their gut. "You watched him... do that to your mother...? He didn't care...?"
Empathy for a villain was something new to {Reader}, but who could blame them? It was sickening to hear.
"I remember after my father's funeral... my uncle gave me a drink. I don't really remember much afterward... but I was sore all over for weeks on end. Never knew what was going on..."

It was a less a way of sympathising with this villain any more than it was just recalling something as it came to mind. When {Reader} looked up, however, staring back into the now horrified villain. That gaze painted a story so violent anyone would peg him a normal civilian after an accident.

He immediately grabbed them by the shoulders, causing them to momentarily cry out in pain at the suddenness of it all, now staring daggers into their soul. "When was this? When did your father pass and when the hell was his funeral?!" The shaking, the urgency... it was overwhelming and they passed out yet again, and this time he cursed aloud and stormed out of the abandoned building, feeling the frustration grow in him until he started to combust.

The implications were clear. Considering how young {Reader} looked from the start, it could've happened at age five, or lower. That uncle either way was either a teenager who was sick in the head or an older man who had no business looking at a child that way.

He stopped for a moment, really thinking about it. He'd grown far too sensitive to rape, ever since seeing his mother fall victim to it just for that damned child to be born. Hell, the League themselves didn't beat around the bush with it. You had a problem with someone who did that, you choose whether or not you want them dead or not. Then there was that whole recruitment thing. So many of them were just assaulters who thought they were somehow justified in such that it almost made him burn a building down killing them.

He'd grown sensitive, and that was getting on his nerves. He'd killed women and children without a second thought, yet this was where the line drew? Pathetic.

He's a villain. He should have the same morals as one if not worse. This should not be the problem it is.

He was now back in the abandoned building, running his hand through his hair aimlessly.

He'd have to wait another while before they were able to wake up from his excessive shaking.

"Fucking, idiot. Can't even control yourself in front of a hostage. What would he think about that?" 
Silence.

Why the hell was he thinking of his old man at this point?

No. He was referring to All For One. Right.

Chapter Text

{Reader} eventually woke up, several hours passing. "How much longer are you going to keep me here?!"

It was rare, but they'd snapped, but it had to happen.

He paused, turning around with glare in his eyes that made them regret speaking.
"Now, listen here, you fucking moron. I'm not here to tell you what's what. I'm here to watch you since you came back from surgery and all, and so far, all I have is your incessant passing out and yelling in your sleep. I can always just say to hell with this and burn you up, no problem. After all, we just need that punk to think you're being held hostage. Hell, I can make it look like some of our guys got busy with you! It's all about presentation, not ingenuity."

He was snappy, at least that's wat he told himself. It had been hours, and it seemed nobody was taking this seriously.

Sighing heavily, he took off his shirt and tossed it at {Reader}, pissed off all the way to hell. "You've been naked since you got here. I know you untied yourself so put that on and I'll take us to eat. I know a good place not too far from here. Accepts villains and all, I know."

{Reader} was jittery, feeling rather uncomfortable in his shirt, not because of the size, but rather the smell. The cologne was rather strong it almost felt pungent. Maybe it was the fact that they'd essentially been under anaesthetics so long that strong odours seemed to repulse them at the moment. Maybe it was something else. Regardless, it was bothering {Reader}, but they wouldn't speak of it lest they anger him again. A one-sided issue, really.

When they got their food, he grabbed them by the wrist and led them to an empty table. "Relax yourself. There's no need to rush anywhere. I'm not gonna and if you want to live, then abide to that rhetoric or die by my very hand, pest."

They followed his word, driven by little more than hunger and the refusal to die by his hand just yet.

"Would you kill me if I asked you to?"

A pause.

He looked up from his burger, having removed two staples so he could eat the burger properly, and simply nodded. "Ig that's what you want, then I see no problem." A pause to eat his food.

"Why do you want me to, though?" He glanced up, all the heat that was once there replaced by an almost youthful curiosity.

Silence. They'd always had an answer for such, but it was the first they've ever had to explain it properly, at least that's what they thought. He looked like a child with those curious eyes.
"I want to see my mother again, and my dad. It's selfish, I know, but everywhere I go, problems like this"- an accusing gesture in his direction-"make it really hard to believe that as I am now, I won't have even worse things happen to me. My first day back in Musutafu, finally at home where I can visit my mother's grave without problems, and I get labelled a suicidal terrorist whose organs are better off with some random individual, and now I'm a hostage to villains. Four days! I just can't deal with it, you know? Maybe I'd be better off following my father to my mother than I would alive. It's selfish and it's stupid, but it's what I want!"

A heavy sigh followed, to which {Reader} grabbed their drink and downed it, trying to mentally not focus on how surprised he seemed at this revelation-even they were surprised they said it with such anger.

A chuckle then arose from him, which caught their attention. "Y'know, if not the fact that you might not want to, just know there may be an open seat for you at the League. There's people like you in there, and I'm sure that even if you don't join us, you'll feel a little better knowing their experiences." He took another bite of the burger, damn near engulfing it in a manner of minutes. "I'll never be one to tell you what you should do-except for the things that involve your location and proximity to me, obviously-but you should maybe talk to someone? Not me, though. Or just try to... "enlighten the day" or whatever bullshit the white women that keep visiting talk about. I kill people and as bad as an effect as it has had on me, I'm not so suicidal anymore. Think about it."

They looked at him, really just watching his attitude. How carefree you must be...

{Reader} just nodded, looking down at their food, their appetite festering again.

What a long day it has been.  

Chapter Text

A heavy sigh. They were now back in that abandoned warehouse, now refusing to talk to anyone.

Maybe it's not that deep, or personal. It didn't help that it felt that way.

He was quiet, too, not wanting to talk any more about the matter.

He couldn't help but scoff at himself. It took so long for him to find {Reader}, and it just took spotting them walking with a new guy. A villain at that.
How could they?
...
He can't say that. They're not dating, and it doesn't even seem like {Reader} even remembers him properly. They've been gone so long, and from that moment he saw them, wearing a shirt that very clearly belonged to Dabi. He still felt somewhat betrayed.

Had {Reader} joined the League? Off the bat, that would seem stupid, but considering how close he was standing to them, the subtle hand hovering above them, the generally calm attitude they both seemed to have...

He shouldn't be making such assumptions, especially with their age gap, but she'd been gone and the League was trying to provoke him the way they kept teasing him about it.

Four days of searching-one of which {Reader} had only then woken up-of searching just to see them coddling another guy? It can't be; it felt wrong, but it also felt like he was clutching at straws. That's why he followed them here. So far, the warehouse had nothing but two chairs, one of which had several strands of rope on it.

{Reader} sat down on that chair, and had Dabi walk up to them right after.
"I wish I could help you, but I am a villain. Take my words into consideration, though. They're not in vain. Eventually, you get to choose between starting anew and ruining the world for your own selfish desires, like myself..."

Maybe it was how far away he was, maybe it was how low his voice was, but he couldn't help but let his eyes widen in shock. What he'd misheard essentially confirmed all that he had been thinking. It was a romantic situation, and they were just trying to lure him out.

Typical. Even when he'd thought he had the chance of reconnecting with his childhood friend, it'd turn out that they've gone to the bad side. All that talk about not wanting a quirk seemed to have warped into something else entirely.

He couldn't stand watching them, not with how close Dabi leaned toward the,, almost completely missing the face {Reader} was making as he did that, too wrapped in what he thought he heard, paired with how close they seemed in public and the shirt. The damned shirt that came with nothing else like they had a fucking steamy sex session before he saw them.

For all he knew, that could've been the case since they got here. Maybe that's why they ran to begin with.

Everything up to this point was up for question really, and it's not like {Reader} hadn't been giving him strange looks since he saw them. No hint of recognition, even with his mask completely discarded.

Yeah... it all makes sense now.

{Reader} was involved with villains.

The logical part of him was screaming that it wasn't true. That they weren't doing such.

However, when emotion gets in the way, judgement is often too clouded to recognize itself.

He felt a lump form in his throat, and small tears pricked away at his eyes. It hurt, no matter how you could paint it, it hurt.

He was wrong to believe in second chances. It may have worked to some degree with Izuku, but it can't always work. People often change, keeping their first impression of you forever, even if you yourself have changed. It's just natural at this point.

Chapter Text

He sighed heavily, raising his fists before steadily putting his hands behind him, and lunging at him. Pure rage filled him as he saw only what he could believe: love, and not a hostage situation.

Dabi noticed, and pushed {Reader} out of the way, leading to them slamming against the wall. His eyes widened for a moment, and he spewed curses under his breath before aiming at Bakugo and letting his flames consume that corner of the warehouse whole before rushing over to {Reader}.
"This idiot... the hell is he doing...? The hell am I doing...? Shit, kid... are you okay?"

Unbeknownst to Bakugo, there were stitches running along {Reader}'s back and stomach. Even if they were fine from being flung against the wall, the smoke inhalation was rightfully dangerous, and a generic risk to them due to the possible complications after surgery. It was the whole reason Dabi had taken a generally non-attack based stance, and now this grenade launcher was out here ruining it.

"Hey, kid. Now that you've got your weapons out, why not just blow that damn bitch up, too? You seem really interested in putting them in harm's way, ain't that neat?"

Your mother abandoned you. She killed herself so she wouldn't have to face the consequences of being with another man. Look at the video evidence.

You see that?

That's what your mother is.
A piece of shit that should've never been graced the chance to be with my son.

Slowly, their eyes opened, and tried to raise their hand, or extend it. {Reader} didn't know. All their could see was a blurry image of fire, only being able to feel their fingertips burn but their body too slow to react to it. In their haze, they could only make out figures in the forefront.

{Reader}'s lungs were slowly closing, and it felt like they were being choked alive. Was there that much smoke already that the warehouse filled almost entirely? Or was it the the cold air in their direction that seemed to only make them cough?

At that moment, they started to cry, really unable to do more.

"Mommy, daddy... Izuku... Katsuki... I'm sorry... I wish I could've met you before this... Before any of this even happened... I wanted to show you my new job... share some comics, hang out..." Their voice died out, the smoke making it harder to talk without violently coughing at this point.

"Mommy... I'm sorry I couldn't do it... all of it... was for you..." A small thought as their mind drew blank and they passed out again, blood seeping from their lips, eyes and nose.

All this banter and for what?

Chapter Text

In the heat of it all, he finally noticed them.

Laid out on the floor, blood pooling around them and an outstretched hand. Help. That's what they needed.

His eyes widened in horror as he could only imagine what could've actually happened, not just his own thoughts.

Idiot. Why the hell was that even on your mind?

Right. It was all the love advice and conspiracy theories Mina had been spewing, trying to get him to talk to her. Find out if they're single or not. Try to flirt. Make normal conversation like everybody else. That was the whole point of him being there that night. He either knock on their window to get their attention and talk to them or just wait to see if they'll come back so then they could talk.
Then they ran without even letting him speak, and he had to chase them down, leading to this whole situation.

A stupid series of actions entirely.

Now he had changed his mind, focusing less on Dabi and more on reaching {Reader}, which was now borderline impossible to do without putting them in active harm's way.

Dabi noticed and he smiled, suddenly remembering the talk they had earlier, now aiming his hand at them. "Maybe this'll put an end to your misery."
Bakugo froze, wide eyed and stuck in place, trembling.
Why wasn't he moving?

Right. Like a deer caught in headlights. That jab he kept tossing at {Reader} and Izuku whenever they got spooked by fighting seems to have gotten back to him in a mocking irony.

Dabi was staring straight at Bakugo, as if to further prove the point. He was just a scared little kid in affairs too violent for his own mind to properly understand or estimate. The affairs of heroes were never something kids were allowed to participate in.
The League knew and that's how they exploited it. Killing younger heroes or their mentors right before their very eyes in order to condition them into believing a world run by villains was the only fair thing they were allowed to have, and so far, it worked.

Civilians started to doubt the system, call it strange, allowing just about anyone to claim they do it to get away with shit. It was true; some heroes did it. That was enough to set the wheels of something greater in motion, though.

All these little threads pulled together made situations like these hit hard.
Not only was he failing to save someone like a hero should, he's perpetuating that heroes are useless in a small, significant way that will further shatter the image the public has of villains.

A sickening sense of dread, almost familiar, crept up on him. Too frozen to move, and there wasn't much he could do. One wrong move and {Reader} dies. Simple as that.

Oh, how Izuku must've felt being bullied. The blank stare, shivering body. The eventual look of pure fear and wavering on what to do.

It leaves a bitter taste. A sickeningly familiar one.

Chapter Text

Eventually, he got hold of them, running and running while his lungs burned from all the smoke he had inhaled.
Dabi was down, but not necessarily one to give up that easily.

He carried them, running in any direction that he thought could lead him to a hospital at the very least.

Finally, he reached a hospital, rushing into casualty, and letting the staff take them, quietly following behind.

Maybe it was the blood on both of them. Maybe it was the fact that they all knew what he was like and for him to be this quiet meant it was a sensitive matter of sorts. Nevertheless, they were calm and patient in handling {Reader}, calmly telling him to wait in reception so that they could give all the information he had on them that he could at the time.

{Reader} was in surgery as of right then, and he just sat there, mask half torn and thinking it all over.

Maybe he shouldn't have done that. Maybe he should've left them from the start.

The same mistake he made with Izuku.
He had liked Izuku, he really did, but he came on far too strong. Something that was once sweet turned to him having such a disingenuous hatred for Izuku that he ended up his bully. Now he was out here repeating the same mistakes that left such a large gap between them to begin with.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid.

Eyes darted from that operating room to the nurses rushing by, and he bounced his leg for so long it felt like it hurt.

He was going back to all those little nervous movements that he had before his quirk. All those nervous juts around like there was something dangerously wrong with not having had a quirk yet.

The worst has yet to come.

Chapter Text

The sound of medical equipment and machines hummed as you awoke. The room felt... harsh. Uncharacteristically so for a hospital. Looking to your sides, partially ignoring all the different tubes attached to your arms.
A nurse on your left injecting your IV drip with some substance that probably had an unidentifiable name by your standards. On your right, an open window with flowers in a pot that looked oddly placed.

"Ma'am... why is that placed there...? And why is it so cold...?"
The woman didn't respond, only tossing a sombre expression your way before sighing heavily and pointing to your body.

You looked down, and found a litter of stitches across your arms as they lay above the hospital blanket on the sides of your body.
"You had lost a lot of blood. It's not too hard to assume you're feeling cold due to the plasma, especially considering how you haven't been using your arms. Just... try to move around if you can. That'll get you warm, and if you still feel cold, it's fine. The doctor is already on her way here."
You simply nodded, now taking in the nurse's features. Dark skin that glowed despite the seemingly cold illumination around her, dark brown eyes and a hooked nose to tie it all down. Braided hair that was stuffed into one of those surgical hair nets. You could just barely see some random blue and pink braids in the fray. Another other feature she had you couldn't see since she had walked out before you could.

Then, somebody else walked in. At first, unrecognizable, but then, it clicked.
"Bakugo...?" He paused at the door entrance, surprised you even seemed to remember him after all this time. Immediately, he rushed to your side, grabbing you left hand and apologizing endlessly. All of it came gushing out at once and he didn't seem to want to stop in the slightest until you put your other hand over his mouth. He stopped for a moment, letting go of you entirely and dropping to his knees, and you could make out faint whimpers.
You just sat up and stared at him for a few moments before reaching out to him, words stuck at your tongue.

What could you say or do? Apologize to the same individual who put you in this mess? That was the same as a jester apologizing to its king for being executed. Absolving his guilt meant that it came at your own detriment, and you could admit that that would be strange for someone to do, regardless of that, however, you kept comforting him, not saying a word but rather just let him go at his own pace.

Eventually, he explained all of it to you. His plans, intentions, even the misunderstanding he had about you and Dabi, which came as a hard shock. Still, it's not like there was much for you to do, but the atmosphere changed. It was... tense now.
"Could you please leave this room...? I... I just want to be alone right now."
Your voice felt rather shaky, and rough. A cough soon followed and it all got cleared up.

Now you were alone, and still thinking about ending it. Would it really still be worth meeting your mother again over?

Yes it was.

Now having snuck past enough staff, you reached the top floor, looking down at dots on the floor.
This was a large hospital, with around 200 floors, wings dedicated to heroes, high-risk patients, mentally unwell patients(a psych ward of sorts) and just a welcoming place for all sorts of individuals.

Now you were on the roof, ready to swan dive. The sun had started to set, and you knew that they were looking for you. Slowly, you stood on the edge, and leaned forward until your feet were no longer touching anything.

Landing headfirst meant that your neck would likely snap and your brain would just die from a lack of blood flow and oxygen at once, and your body would cease to work.
Maybe except your heart. It could beat on its own without the brain. A passage you read long ago.

Not that it mattered. Your body hit the ground a while ago, and for a moment, your spirit lingered for a few moments, almost as if you'd wanted to see for yourself if your heart would still continue beating. It did. Just faintly, now.

You left the scene, traveling to your mother's grave. There, you saw her again.
The same hair as always, the weary smile, the dress she'd always wear. Alongside your father, who had aged, but still remained relatively as youthful as she was.

You quietly joined them, letting the night finally settle once more.