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scary-grace · 4 months ago

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Enough to Go By (Chapter 18) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Your best friend vanished on the same night his family was murdered, and even though the world forgot about him, you never did. When a chance encounter brings you back into contact with Shimura Tenko, you'll do anything to make sure you don't lose him again. Keep his secrets? Sure. Aid the League of Villains? Of course. Sacrifice everything? You would - but as the battle between the League of Villains and hero society unfolds, it becomes clear that everything is far more than you or anyone else imagined it would be. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19

Chapter 18

You store your backpack in the lockers provided for the purpose, then step into the line for the metal detector. You looked up what to expect when you visit somebody in jail, and so far everything checks out. It’s a long line. You wait your turn, step through the metal detector with no incident, and make your way up to the check-in desk. The officer behind it gives you a cursory glance. “Name?”

You give it, along with your birthdate, and she types it into her computer. A moment later her expression relaxes. She’s just seen that you’re quirkless, which means she can let you in without any special accommodations or extra guards. “Who are you here to see?”

“Aiba Manami,” you say. “My cousin.”

You haven’t been reading the news very much. You wouldn’t have known that Manami and the villain she works with had been arrested if Isuzu hadn’t texted you in all caps, asking if you’d seen the news and dropping the link when you said you hadn’t. And sure enough, there was Manami’s picture, right next to her villain crush’s at the top of the article – only they didn’t call her Aiba Manami. They called her La Brava, the name her villain gave her.

Isuzu was scandalized when you asked if anyone in the family had gone to visit her. You knew that meant no, so on your next three-day gap, you made plans to go see her. And here you are, hanging out in a visitation room, waiting for the guards to bring her in. You’re the only one in this particular room, and you know why. Manami’s quirk is useless without her villain nearby, and they’ve almost certainly separated them. And you don’t have a quirk, so you're useless overall. It’s safe. Enough.

When the guards bring Manami in, it’s clear that she’s been crying. A lot. Her eyes are red, and her permanent dark circles are augmented by bruises from rubbing them. She looks shocked to see you at first, but it’s not long before her eyes fill with tears again. “I didn’t think anyone would come. The family is so mad –”

“Fuck the family,” you say. Tomura and the others must be rubbing off on you. You never used to swear this much, as evidenced by the fact that Manami’s jaw drops and a startled, nervous laugh sneaks out. “I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner. I’ve been kind of keeping my head down.”

Manami’s gaze sharpens. “Why?”

“Um – no reason. Not really.” You need to be more careful. There’s nothing you’ve said so far that doesn’t sound suspicious. “Should we sit down?”

Manami sits down on the table, and you sit down in a chair. She’s so tiny that even the height boost from the table doesn’t put her at eye level with you. “How are you doing?” you ask, before she can ask you anything. “I don’t know all of what happened, obviously, but I – um –”

“Gentle fought Midoriya, and he lost.” Manami sniffles, while you try to conceal your shock. Midoriya Izuku really gets around. “My love wasn’t strong enough.”

“I bet that’s not it,” you say at once. “That kid’s just berserk. Nobody who runs into him gets away clean.”

Manami picks her head up out of her hands to give you a weird look. You look back, trying not to panic. Your brain-dead civilian act won’t work on Manami – she’s known you your whole life, and she knows the kind of tricks you play to fly under the radar. Then her gaze slides away from yours, and her eyes fill with tears again. “If I had just loved him more –”

“Did he say that? Your – uh, Gentle?” If he did, you and he are going to have words at some point. You might not be very intimidating, but your friends are terrifying, and you’ve picked up a few tricks from them.

“No.” Manami wipes her eyes again. “Of course not. Gentle loves me. He would never. Have you – have you seen him? I don’t even know where he’s being held.”

You shake your head. “I can find out if you want.”

“Oh, that would be wonderful! I haven’t seen him in so long!” Manami’s expression transforms. You really hope that’s not what you look like when you think about Tenko. “You should meet him. He’s the most handsome man in the world, and he’s so refined and elegant – and honorable – and tall! Tall boys always thought I was too short, but he can carry me around all day if he wants to.”

You absorb that image with some difficulty. “Nobody in here understands,” Manami continues. “They say I’m too nice to have ended up a villain, but they’re only saying that now that it’s too late. Everyone was cruel to me before. None of them cared. Except him.”

She looks back at you, her eyes bright. “Our charges aren’t that bad. They can’t keep us here forever. I know we’ll be together again once we’re out.”

You envy her confidence, and the fact that she’s right. If Tenko gets captured, he’s never getting out of prison. The only way you’ll be together is if he wins. “I’ll find out where Gentle is,” you promise, and Manami smiles. It shouldn’t be hard to do. Kazuo could probably find out without even touching his quirk. “I’d like to meet him sometime. I’m glad there’s somebody who makes you this happy.”

“Really?” Manami looks surprised. “My mom called me and yelled at me about him. And my dad. Everybody.”

“Fuck them,” you say patiently. The sooner Manami picks up that attitude about your whole stupid family, the better. “If he treats you well and makes you happy, that’s what I care about. Even if he likes tea a little too much.”

“Ugh, that’s how we got caught!” Manami flops backwards onto the table. “Midoriya Izuku ran into us and Gentle had to say something about him ruining the aftertaste of the special tea – and then Midoriya knew about the tea – so then Gentle had to talk to him about it –”

This sounds like a train wreck. “I didn’t know tea could do that.”

“Me. Either.” Manami sighs. “He was so excited that somebody else might like the weird stuff he likes. I can’t be mad at him for loving stuff. Even if he was dumb about it.”

She glances at you. “What would you do if your boyfriend was doing something dumb?”

“Drag him out of there.” That’s basically what you did that night in the convenience store, and you and Tenko weren’t even dating. “But I’m taller than you. It works a little better.”

“I knew it!” Manami crows, and you jump. “I knew you had a boyfriend! You didn’t even deny it.”

Manami’s sneaky. You forgot about that. “I was being hypothetical.”

“No you weren’t. You aren’t very good at makeup,” Manami says. You freeze. “Maybe you could fool a boy, but any girl could see that hickey from space.”

You clap your hand over the side of your neck, but it’s already way too late, and Manami laughs so hard she starts crying again. Maybe you’re bad at makeup, but you’re going to blame this one on Tenko – Tenko, who missed being crushed to death by inches seven times during the last fight cycle, and was so strung out on adrenaline that you could barely get him to focus long enough to try to fuck him to sleep. If he couldn’t focus on that, there was no way he could focus on not being loud, and he bit down hard on you to muffle himself so the others wouldn’t figure out what was going on.

There wasn’t time for you to grab a condom, so your first errand of the next fight cycle was the morning-after pill, followed by drugstore-brand makeup to cover up the bite mark. Apparently you did a bad job. A really bad job. “How do I fix it?”

“Tell me about the boy first.” Manami wipes her eyes. “Do you have a picture?”

You do. It’s old, and it’s in a locket around your neck, and your hand twitches upwards to it before you can stop yourself. Manami’s eyes track the motion. “Let me see.”

You hesitate. There’s a chance that Manami will be able to recognize Tenko – she went to your fifth and sixth birthday parties, and he was at both of them – but even if she recognizes him as a kid, she probably won’t be able to match his face to Tomura’s as an adult. You unclasp the locket and hand it over. “This is him as a kid. I don’t have a recent one.”

“Oh, he’s cute.” Manami tilts her head, studying the photo – and then her eyes widen. Her voice goes whisper-quiet, so much that you have to lean in to hear. “He’s alive?”

You nod. “He’s who I think he is,” Manami says, and you nod again. Of course she guessed. She’s a villain, and you know for a fact that villains keep track of each other’s press clippings. You should have thought of that, but you didn’t. Maybe you wanted her to know. “How?”

“They took him.” You’re not sure how else to phrase it subtly. Manami closes the locket and hands it back to you. Her hand is shaky. Yours is steady. “I’m lucky I found him again.”

“Lucky?” Manami shakes her head. “No.”

“What do you mean, no? Look at your boyfriend.”

“My boyfriend is a gentleman thief. He’s refined and elegant and he wants to write his name into history by making things better.” Manami’s proud of him, proud in a way you can’t be proud of Tenko, and your stomach twists with guilt. “Yours did – that.”

She’s pointing at the bite mark on your neck, the one she was teasing you over a few minutes ago. Now it’s something evil, just because of who left it there. “I could be into that,” you say, and she gives you a frustrated look. “It’s not any different than you.”

“It is. Look at me.” Manami gestures to herself, her eyes brightening with tears again. “Me and Gentle don’t hurt anyone. Gentle wants to help people and show them another way. What does your boyfriend want?”

To tear the world down, so something better can be built by people who know what needs to be fixed – but he has to tear it down first, and that will come with casualties. Lots of them. You’re slow to answer, trying to package it in a way that doesn’t sound insane and terrifying, and Manami takes your hesitation for what it is. “You don’t have to do this,” she says. “You’re not like I was. You have friends. You have a real job you like, and you’re normal. I mean, quirkless, but normal.”

Not quirkless, but that doesn’t matter. You stare her down, daring her to say what she actually means. To her credit, she does. “You don’t have a reason to do this,” Manami says, and she talks right over you when you protest that you do. “That means you have a choice. It doesn’t have to be him.

“I don’t have a choice,” you say. If she’d just let you talk, you could have explained, but you don’t need that many words to do it. “I –”

You’re trying to say you love him. If you can’t say you love him – to your cousin, who knows all about love that ruins you – who can you say it to? You try again. “I don’t have a choice. I – I lo – I do. I lo –”

Manami’s hand clamps down over your mouth. “Don’t,” she orders. “You have to save it.”

“What?” Your voice is muffled. “I can’t say it. I’m trying. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Why can’t I say –”

“You can. You have to save it for when it counts.” The door to the visitation room opens, and over Manami’s shoulder, you see a guard step through. Two guards. No, three. “You’ll find Gentle, won’t you? You promised –”

“I’ll find him,” you say. You grasp Manami’s hand, hold it tight. “And I’ll be back to visit you. I promise.”

“Please think about what I said,” Manami says. She looks worried – worried, and sad, and even when the guards come to collect her, she hesitates long enough to try one more time. “It’s not too late. You don’t have to be like me.”

You thought you and Manami would be on the same page about things, since you’re both in love with villains, but apparently not. Apparently Manami sees the League as much worse than Gentle Criminal, just like the League sees Overhaul as worse than they are – and she’s worried about you. Yoshimi’s worried about you, according to Mitsuko and Ryuhei, but Manami’s worry worries you more. And then there was what she said while you were stuttering and panicking around the admission that you love someone you’ve loved in one way and another for almost your entire life. Save it for when it counts. What does that mean?

“Wait.” A guard stops you as you try to walk out through the metal detector and you nearly jump out of your skin. “Take that off.”

He’s pointing at your locket, and your hand flies up to cover it. “Yeah, that,” the guard says. “Take it off before you walk through.”

“It was fine before,” you say. Your nerves are jangling. “Why do I have to take it off now?”

“The prisoner touched it.”

“So you think her quirk works on a locket?” You can’t be combative right now. You can’t make waves – but you’re angry with yourself, angry with Manami, and you don’t want to hide it. “She touched my hand, too. Are you going to make me take that off?”

“Take it off or I’ll detain you,” the officer says. If you’re detained, they’ll search your backpack, and if it comes down to them looking at a baby photo of Tenko or checking out the gun in your backpack, you know which one you prefer. You take off the locket and drop it into the guard’s palm. “Thanks for your cooperation.”

You stand there, seething, as he pries open the locket and studies the photo inside. It occurs to you that the guards were watching you and Manami, that they saw her reaction when she opened it. Of course they’d want to take a look. But the guard never met Tenko, doesn’t know what to look for, and after a moment, he hands the locket back. “Was that so hard?”

“No,” you admit. You look down, bite your lip, the picture of quirkless contrition. “Sorry. It just means a lot to me.”

“Of course,” the guard says magnanimously. They’re all magnanimous once somebody gives in. “Go on.”

You walk through the metal detector again, retrieve your backpack and your phone, and step out of the jail. It’s a sunny day, but it’s cold, and you wish you’d brought a heavier coat. Or a scarf. It’s not hard to imagine that the bite mark is beaming like a searchlight from your neck, letting everybody know just how bad your boyfriend is at keeping quiet. You alter your priorities. You’ll get a scarf first. The firing range will still be there after you’ve covered up.

This far into the fight against Gigantomachia, and your errands during each fight cycle have taken on a new pattern. Food and sleep first – as guilty as you feel for eating hot food and sleeping in a bed when Tenko can’t, you’d feel guiltier if you made a mistake because you were too hungry and sleep-deprived to keep a clear head. Once you’ve gotten that out of the way, you do a few things to maintain the ruse that you’re on a leave of absence from work, then check up on the others.

Usually that means corralling Toga, or finding Compress before he can fence whatever he’s stolen. He’s recognizable enough that it’s safer for you to fence it yourself. You worry less about Spinner. Spinner tends to stick close. If he’s not shadowing Tomura or passed out and snoring, he’s usually following you. Once you’ve checked up on them, made sure they’re eating and sleeping in addition to whatever else, you run an errand of your own. You’ve got a gun now. You need to make sure you can use it.

You go to at least one firing range every fight cycle, sometimes more. You’ve learned how to tense yourself against the recoil from a shot, how to load and reload quickly, how to clean the gun, disassemble it, and fix any problems with it before they get work. The main thing, the most important thing, is shot selection and accuracy. Your accuracy is decent – not quite as decent as it is in Call of Duty, but above average. It got a lot better once you stopped trying to aim for the head.

You don’t need to aim for the head. You don’t want to kill somebody. What you need to do is slow them down long enough for you or your friends to get away, and that means hitting somewhere in the center mass. The fact that gunshots to the center mass can kill somebody just as easily as shots to the head is something you try not to think about. You’ve got a lot of practice not thinking about stuff by now. Enough that you can almost forget about the casualties that will result from tearing everything down, and forget basically everything Manami said except her stories about her villain boyfriend and your twin promises to visit her again and find out where he is.

You text Kazuo to ask if he knows where Gentle Criminal is being held, telling him specifically not to use his quirk to find out, and put your phone away. Then you step into your booth at the firing range.

You’re good enough at it now – barely – that you can practice firing one-handed, firing from positions other than square-on in front of your target. You’re also practicing using the gun for something other than shooting people. One of the guys at the firing range in Nagoya, an ex-cop who took a shine to you in a way that made you deeply uncomfortable, told you that a gun’s not helpful at a distance of less than twenty feet. Somebody with a knife can close that distance faster than you can fire. Dodging a knife strike and clocking somebody in the side of the head is a better bet, so today you’re practicing that, too. You’re as useless with a latent quirk as you were without one, so finding another way to be useful in a fight is your top priority. A stupid latent quirk is the same thing as no quirk at all.

But even as you practice firing one-handed, firing from a crouched position, firing from the floor, you can’t shake off what Manami said. Her hand covering your mouth, her order to save it for when it counts. Save what? The I love you? Sure – you should probably tell Tenko before you tell anybody else, as soon as you figure out how to get the words out of your mouth. What was weird was how intense Manami was about it, but Manami’s always been intense about love. Intense enough to cover your mouth about it? Maybe. Maybe she just wanted you to shut up about how much you love Shigaraki Tomura, aspiring of the supervillains, while you’re in the visiting room at a jail. She’s been at this longer than you have. She’s better at it.

She’s the second person to point out that Tenko’s hurt you, and she and Mitsuko had the same reaction. You’d be worried about it if you didn’t know the whole story, but you can’t explain that your boyfriend bit you because he’s loud in bed or that he hates letting even you see him cry. You also can’t explain that you don’t hate the bitemark, that you don’t want people to see it but aren’t mad that it’s there. You definitely can’t explain that you’re trying to build a new world, and you’re terrified of the thought that he won’t be in it with you.

And there’s no possible way to explain that you’ve weighed the world against the idea of losing Tenko again and decided that keeping him was more important. Not without sounding insane and selfish and awful. Not without sounding like a villain.

You stay at the firing range, drilling over and over again until the time you’ve paid for runs out, and then you check your timer. Four hours before the end of the next fight cycle, and the new base camp is two and a half hours away. That’s plenty of time for you to get there before Tenko does.

Or at least that’s what you think. There’s a disruption in the train service, courtesy of some villain, somewhere, and you wait as ten minutes, forty-five minutes, an hour and a half tick by. There’s no way you’re going to make it there by the end of the fight cycle, and you might miss the break entirely. You have to be there. You need to see Tenko and make sure he eats and sleeps, so that the next fight cycle doesn’t end with him being killed. This far in, he’s barely alive. You don’t know how he’s keeping it together. You don’t know how anyone is.

Another twenty minutes slip past with agonizing slowness. You’re getting desperate. If Kurogiri was here, you’d have options, but he was captured months ago, and you don’t know anyone else who has a –

Yes, you do. You dig the earpiece the doctor gave you out of your backpack and activate it, jamming it into your ear. The doctor’s already on the other end of the line, and that strikes you as weird, but you don’t have a chance to think about it any more before he speaks. “I was just about to reach out to you, Saintess. There’s been a development.”

Your blood turns to ice. Tenko can’t be dead. He’d have told you first if Tenko was dead. If Tenko was dead, you’d know. “What is it?”

“Shigaraki Tomura has devised a plan to destroy both of his enemies at once – the Metal Liberation Army, which has challenged him to a battle, and Gigantomachia, whom he has yet to defeat.” The doctor doesn’t explain who the MLA is, but he doesn’t need to. You’re quirkless. You know all about the people who want to make society’s might-makes-right thing explicit instead of poorly concealed. “I’ve just transported he and the others to the outskirts of the battlefield. He gave me explicit instructions to keep you away from the fight.”

“No,” you say at once. “I’m the medic. They need me. I have to be there.”

“My thoughts exactly,” the doctor says. Oh. “I believe you could be very useful indeed. Stand by for transport.”

You hold still. The doctor heaves a dramatic sigh. “That means get out of sight, dear.”

You’re an idiot. You duck into the bathroom at the train station and lean back against the door, blocking anyone from coming in. “I’m out of sight.”

“Excellent,” the doctor says. A moment later, your mouth fills with black sludge.

When you get to the edge of the city that must be the battleground, the fight’s already in full swing. You can tell by the clouds of dust that are rising, the flashes of blue flame appearing and vanishing just as quickly. Tomura must have called for Dabi. Dabi, but not you. Dabi can fight.

“Allow me to provide the lay of the land,” the doctor says. “The Meta Liberation Army has a hundred thousand members in this city alone. Shigaraki’s objective is to hold them off, without drastically reducing their numbers, long enough for Gigantomachia to awaken and pursue him here – where he will theoretically clash with the MLA and incur enough damage to allow Shigaraki to defeat him.”

It’s brilliant. Tomura’s plans these days usually are. But when you check your phone for the time, your heart sinks. “They’ve still got an hour left. That’s too long.”

“That’s where you come in, my dear. The MLA left you out of their calculations entirely due to your perceived quirklessness.” The doctor sounds smug as all hell. “I’ll direct you where you’re needed. With that gun of yours, the amount of ammunition you’re carrying, and the practice you’ve been putting in, you should be quite effective in thinning the MLA’s ranks – assuming, of course, that you’re willing to get your hands dirty.”

You made that decision a while ago. You put on your veil and crown. It’ll complicate your vision, but you couldn’t practice with it on. “I’ll do what needs to be done to keep Tomura safe.”

“Let’s hope he proves worthy of your devotion. Descend into the city. Avoid the main avenues and work your way towards the tower in the center.

It’s a distance down to the city, and the doctor put you on a rocky slope. There’s probably a defined path down, but you don’t want to waste time looking for it, and you roll and slide and tumble your way down to level ground, the doctor tsking in your ear the entire time. You ignore him and choose a deserted side street, working your way towards the chaos in the center of the city. The doctor gives you periodic updates. “Toga has neutralized her opponents, but she was injured – no, no, my dear, your objective is Shigaraki.”

“I’m the medic. If Toga is hurt –”

“Twice is on his way to assist her, and her injuries aren’t immediately life-threatening.” The doctor’s voice takes on a bite of impatience. “You’ll be able to aid her later, assuming Shigaraki’s plan succeeds – which it may not do if you waste time here.”

Helping Toga isn’t wasting time. But there’s a bigger picture here, and you know it. You pick up the pace again, jogging through the streets, until the doctor tells you to stop. “Dabi and Compress are near. Dabi’s opponent could stand to be distracted. Avoid being seen.”

So you can’t help Toga, but you can help Dabi? The doctor’s priorities are pissing you off. You creep closer, pivoting down a small alley and climbing into a building, peering out a broken window for a better view. There’s Dabi, and Compress. And there’s his opponent, some guy with white hair in a blue coat, who’s doing his best to crush Dabi and Compress under a hail of ice.

Strategy isn’t your strongest suit, but this one is easy. Dabi is the League’s only ranged combatant – other than you, and you barely count. If Dabi loses this fight and switches to chasing Tomura, it’s over. Ice Guy is moving around a lot. You take out your gun, make sure it’s loaded, make sure there’s a round in the chamber. You can’t stay here long. You have to get out fast, so you give yourself three shots to get the job done. You peer up over the window frame, steady yourself, flip off the safety, and hook your finger around the trigger. Ice Guy is holding still for once, bantering about something with Dabi. Perfect.

You fire all three shots in a tight burst, but you aren’t solid at this distance, or this angle. You miss with all three, and you cringe in embarrassment. Ice Guy falters for a second, looking around wildly for the source of the gunfire. You drop to the floor and belly-crawl out of sight, gritting your teeth at the amused note in the doctor’s voice. “Obviously it would have been better if you’d hit him, but he’s unsettled enough to hand Dabi a momentary advantage. All Dabi must do is make use of it.”

You make your way into the building’s back lot, then through a gate onto a quieter street. This one is lined with piles of dust. Big piles of dust, and two sets of footprints through them. “Tomura was here. And Spinner?”

“Yes, although Spinner’s unable to compensate for Shigaraki’s near-incapacitation.” The doctor gives you a new direction to run in and keeps talking. “I admire your efforts to keep him healthy, but they’re ultimately futile. The exhaustion will kill him sooner rather than later.”

“Later,” you correct. He can die of exhaustion when you’re both ninety. “Where are they?”

“Continue straight, then turn left at the next major intersection.” There’s an edge in the doctor’s voice now. “If I were you, I’d hurry.”

You pick up the pace, furious with yourself for not being able to move faster. Training with a weapon clearly wasn’t enough – on your days off, you should have been improving your physical fitness, enough that scrambling from house to house as cover on a street parallel to the one Tomura and Spinner are traveling on would be nothing to you. You turn left at the next intersection and you’re bolting down the street when the doctor orders you to hide, his voice loud and sharp. You dive into the shelter of the nearest fenced yard just in time to see a horde of figures dressed in black and white stampede down the street Tomura and Spinner are apparently on. It looks like Twice. Twice, but hundreds of him.

You thought his quirk would only let him make two copies, and he never copies himself. What happened? “It appears his quirk has awakened,” the doctor says, and you realize you’ve spoken aloud. “If only the same thing would happen to you.”

“If I could do that, I’d know.” You poke your head up over the fence to see if it’s clear, and one of the Twice clones spots you. Shit. You duck down out of sight, but you know he’s coming. “What should I do?”

You hate yourself for asking, and the doctor doesn’t answer. At least not in a way that’s helpful. “Your objective is to aid Shigaraki. Proceed with that in mind.”

Before you can even begin to parse that, the Twice clone reaches over the fence and grabs your arm, pulling you upright. “Hey, you’re not supposed to be here! Shigaraki said to keep you away!”

“I’m supposed to be here. I’m the medic.” You struggle to pull your arm free, but he’s stronger than you. “Let go. I have to help him –”

“We’re helping him.” The clone’s chest puffs with pride. “Don’t worry, sister. Your boyfriend’s in good hands!”

You need to get away from Twice. You need to get away from him right now. What’s the chance that this is the real Twice? Next to none – you can’t imagine the real Twice leaving Toga’s side if she’s hurt. With that in mind, what you’re about to do should have no consequences whatsoever. “I’m sorry,” you say to the clone, and you strike him so hard in the side of the head with the barrel of your gun that he collapses instantly into sludge.

“Wonderful. It seems you weren’t lying – your devotion to Shigaraki does extend to getting your hands dirty.” The doctor sounds pleased. You don’t feel like anything at all. “Continue your pursuit course. Shigaraki has pulled ahead of Spinner, but you shouldn’t have trouble catching him.”

You decide against using the main streets, opting instead to hop fences and cut through backyards and alleyways. You don’t want to have to kill any more Twice clones. You don’t have the greatest view, but you’re sure the doctor will tell you if you need to speed up. Tomura might be in the midst of a battle, high on adrenaline, but you’ve eaten and slept in the last three days, so you must have the advantage in speed. You’ll catch him soon. You have to.

You hear the screech of tires, followed by the sound of hundreds of feet on the road – and then a voice, booming out through a megaphone. The voice that responds is quiet and thin in comparison, but you recognize it. It’s Spinner’s voice. Is Tomura with him? No, the doctor would have told you to change course, and he’s said nothing of the kind. Out of everyone in the League, Spinner’s the most loyal to Tomura, second only to you. He wouldn’t leave Tomura for anything. You break the back window of one of the houses, climb in, and pick your way through until you’re peering through the front window. There are too many people in the way. You head for the stairs.

Once you’ve got the elevation, it’s obvious – Spinner’s trapped in the middle of an angry mob. There’s a news van blocking his way, and a guy standing on top of it. He’s calling Spinner by what must be Spinner’s real name and saying the kind of things that make you see red. Spinner shouts back, owning it – owning weakness, owning a lack of vision, owning unimportance except as a follower to better people. That’s not all he is. You don’t let anybody talk to your friends like that, your friends included.

You need to do something. “No,” the doctor hisses in your ear. “Pursue Shigaraki. Leave him.”

“No,” you say. The doctor makes a scathing, offended sound into the phone. “That’s not who I am.”

You don’t have enough bullets in your gun or your backpack to take out the entire crowd, but you can handle the guy in charge, and the resulting chaos might be enough of a distraction that you can yank Spinner out unnoticed. Forget this only-three-shots nonsense – you extract another clip from your backpack and set it down beside you, at the ready once you empty this one. You break the window you’ve been peering through, trusting that the mob’s own noise will cover the sound, and screw the silencer onto the end of your gun. You haven’t practiced with it much, or at all, so you don’t know how it’ll disrupt your shot, but between the gun and the clip you have nine shots to get the job done. At least one of them will have to hit.

The man on top of the van has just donned a mask. Probably a support item rather than a shield, but you were never aiming for his head. Your first shot strikes him in the shoulder. He staggers, turning halfway just in time for you to empty the clip, sending two bullets tearing laterally through his torso. You eject the empty clip and load the next, and in the time that takes, your target collapses. His blood is pooling on top of the van, running down the sides. He’s not moving. Unless somebody in the crowd has a serious healing quirk, he’s dead.

You turn away from the window and race back down the stairs, keeping the gun hidden at your side. Most of the mob’s forgotten Spinner in their efforts to help the leader, and Spinner’s crawled through them, heading towards you. He must have guessed who was shooting. He’s the only one in the League who knows about the gun.

You race out of the house to help him up, drag him out of sight. One person notices the two of you, and you shoot them without thinking twice. Not fatally. It won’t be fatal if they get some help soon.

Spinner needs help right now. He’s bleeding, and while you can see the puncture wounds in his shirt, you can’t tell how deep they are. “You’re wasting time,” the doctor hisses in your ear.

You ignore him, but Spinner unknowingly echoes him a moment later. “Don’t worry about me,” he says, grimacing in pain. “Get to Shigaraki. He needs you.”

“I’ll patch you up and we can both go.”

“No, you need to –”

There’s a colossal explosion from somewhere in the distance. At least, you think it’s an explosion. You don’t know what else to call it, except that it’s the loudest sound you’ve ever heard, and it makes the ground rattle beneath your feet. You and Spinner both freeze. “What was that?”

“Change of plans, my dear. Get as far from here as possible.” The doctor’s voice is in your ear again – and in Spinner’s, based on the way Spinner startled. “Shigaraki has engaged the leader of the Liberation Army, and his chances won’t be improved if he’s distracted by your presence.”

“What if I just shoot him?” you ask. Spinner stares at you. “The leader of the Liberation Army. Could I get a clear shot?”

“He’s the size of a house,” the doctor says, and your stomach clenches tight with fear. “You could hit him from the moon if your weapon had the range. But you don’t, and he’ll see you coming, so –”

“He wouldn’t care about me. You said it yourself. I’m quirkless, so I don’t factor in.” You help Spinner straighten up. “I’m Tomura’s sidekick. I can’t let him fight alone.”

“You can if doing it will get you flattened.” Spinner stumbles as the ground shakes again. “Give me the gun. I can do it.”

“You won’t be able to get clear in time.” Get clear in time for what? At the kind of range you’ll need to be effective with a gun this small, you won’t be able to get clear, either. The ground rattles again. “I have to do this.”

“Yes, I believe you must.” The doctor’s voice is crisp and abrupt, almost as abrupt as his change of tune. “I’m quite impressed with Shigaraki’s fortitude. I’ll be sending another gift to assist him in this fight, in addition to you. Spinner, make for the outskirts. I’ll direct you to Toga and Twice. Saintess, head for the center. Stay out of sight as long as you can.”

There’s no time for you to patch Spinner up. The two of you trade a glance and a nod, and then you split up. Spinner books it in the opposite direction of the disaster that’s unfolding at the center of the city, and you run towards it.

What you see there in the midst of the destruction horrifies you. You’ve only caught glimpses of Tomura’s battles with Gigantomachia, but you’ve heard stories from the others, and in spite of the fact that the giant he’s fighting this time is smaller, you can tell from a single glance that his odds are worse. He was tired going into this fight, and he’s already injured beyond what you or anyone else could fix. And unlike Gigantomachia, this giant can talk.

He wants to know what Tomura’s going to do with the world, if he survives. “Is the pursuit of destruction your only worth as a human? The world you wish to create will be as empty as you are.”

“It’s not my world.” Tomura’s face is smeared with blood. One of his legs is twisted at a terrible angle, broken so badly you can’t believe it’s bearing his weight. His left hand is mangled, missing two fingers at least. He can’t fight like this. How could he? “It’s for them. They can choose what’s in it.”

It’s for him, too. If he gives you the chance to build a new world, you’re going to make it worth living in. “They can choose?” The giant scoffs. “Your pack of outcasts and delinquents don’t have that kind of vision. None of you can see beyond your own petty desires and think of the greater good!”

“I don’t need to see it.” Tomura stumbles sideways to avoid a strike, then loses his footing and falls. “She can.”

He’s talking about you. You get set, raise the gun, and fire.

The giant is too bulky for your bullets to make much of an impact. You’d have to hit him in the eyes or the mouth, and you’d have to get closer for that. He reacts to the shot like you’d react to a mosquito bite, mere annoyance and temporary distraction, and Tomura struggles back to his feet long enough to exploit the opening. For a split second you’re drawn back to the games the two of you played as children – facing some terrible villain, distracting them so Tenko could land a decisive blow. The same game as always. Now it’s real.

Even with the giant distracted, Tomura’s injuries are slowing him down. It’s not just that he’s limping. You come closer, unable to stop yourself, and you see how badly he’s favoring his other side. He’s only got one hand, his quirk at half the strength it used to be, and even as your empty the remainder of your clip into the giant’s torso, load another, and fire again, you know you can’t do enough to make this fight one Tomura can win. If you’ve really got a quirk, if there’s something you can do, now’s the time.

But there’s nothing. Why would there be anything? If you had anything more you could do, you’d do it. if running into the middle of things and getting killed to save him would mean he’d win, you’d do it in a heartbeat.

You wouldn’t hesitate, but you won’t get the chance to choose. The giant’s spotted you. He swats Tomura aside with one hand and turns his attention to you. “So you came to join us after all,” he says. You hold your ground. If he comes close enough, you’ll have a clear shot at his eyes. “It’s a shame to say so, Saintess, but there’s no place for your kind in our future. I’ll put you out of your misery.”

You shoot him. It glances off his cheek, and his footsteps rattle the ground, jarring your next shot into thin air. “You’re only resisting the inevitable,” he continues. “Is this truly a world you want to live in? A world where meta abilities are used freely, where your kind are left to occupy the lowest rung of society while the rest of us wait for evolution to wipe you out?”

You’ve heard people with quirks say some truly out-of-touch things, but that might be the worst. You open your mouth for a retort, but instead of a snappy comeback or heartfelt appeal to humanity, laughter pours out. You can’t make it stop, and the giant stares at you, puzzled. Behind him, you see Tomura rising from the dirt, all his weight on his knees and his mangled hand. It only takes a split second’s thought to understand why he’s putting pressure on his injured hand instead of the good one, but it’ll all be for nothing if you can’t give him time. You need the giant to keep looking at you.

He hasn’t looked away. Your semi-hysterical cackling is keeping all his attention. “Is something funny?”

“This world you want,” you start. You have to pause to suck down air, aware that he’s coming closer to you, aware that you can’t let him look back at Tomura. “It’s the same world we have right now. I’ve lived in your perfect world my whole life.”

Tomura steadies himself. You see him steady his right arm with what remains of his left hand before the giant’s bulk fills your vision. You look up at him, holding his gaze even as he raises his hand to crush you to a bloody paste on the ground, and you smile, even though your veil hides your face. “It’s our world now.”

The giant’s fist comes down towards you. You hear a distant scream. A split second later, the ground falls out from beneath you.

You can’t decide if you’re dead or not. You’re falling through a haze of dust and ash, listening to screams that fall abruptly silent, flinching as buildings crack and crumble around you. Above it all there’s a sound you’ve never heard before – half howl of rage, half insane laughter, all rough and painful, as though it’s tearing apart the throat it’s issuing from. Tenko’s still alive. You can’t die yet. You have to get to him.

Maybe your quirk is some kind of willpower, because even though the impact with the ground is agonizing, you’re on your feet within seconds of the hit. You find yourself standing on the edge of a massive crater, one that’s swallowed half the city. You’re not the only one at its edge. You see Spinner, Dabi, Compress, Twice – about a billion clones of Twice, holding as many clones of Toga, and Giran off to one side with a clumsy bandage wrapped around his hand. The League of Villains made it through.

A few members of the Meta Liberation Army made it through, too. They’re staring down into the crater, sheer horror on their faces, as they look at what’s left of their leader.

He amputated his legs to avoid getting caught in the wave of Decay Tomura unleashed, and the part of you that’s a nurse and not a murderer notes that those wounds will need to be cauterized soon if he wants to avoid bleeding out. But the leader of the Meta Liberation army is a footnote, an afterthought. Tomura’s down there, too. Tomura’s on his feet. His hair’s gone pure white, and his right arm’s been torn to shreds.

He and the Liberation Army’s leader are talking. You can’t hear what they’re saying, at least not at first. Not until the leader announces his unconditional surrender and orders his soldiers to lay down their arms – or rather, to turn them over to Shigaraki Tomura, the new leader of the Meta Liberation Army. Tomura’s won, and it’s not just the MLA who’s submitted to him. When you glance at the far side of the crater, you see Gigantomachia crouched there, calm and awaiting orders. It’s a mark of just how focused you are on Tomura that you didn’t even notice.

The enemy leader’s still talking, but Tomura’s not paying attention. He’s looking up, around the edges of the crater, his eyes lingering on each member of the League. Twice and Giran to Twice and Toga, Dabi to Compress to Spinner, and finally to you. You hold his gaze, unsure of whether to take down your veil and smile, not certain if he needs reassurance that you’re okay or if he’s just making sure you’re alive. Then his face goes pale beneath the mask of blood. You see his eyes roll up in his head, and before you can make a move to help him, he pitches sideways, unconscious.

The enemy leader is the one who catches him, and something snaps in your head. You hop the edge of the crater and skid down the slope, racing towards them. You’re not the only one on the move – Spinner and about fifty Twice clones are doing the same thing, and the enemy leader is shouting for help. Somebody with a healing quirk, maybe. Or transport to a hospital. You can’t think. All you can think about is getting Tomura away from the person who was trying to kill him five minutes ago. A person whose soldiers will kill you all without him to lead them.

You pry Tomura out of his grip, slide your backpack off your shoulders, and start giving orders. “Twice, take the sterile pads and start packing them onto his legs.”

“Whose?”

You gesture one-handed at the giant, who’s not so giant anymore. “Re-Destro,” he introduces himself.

“Yeah, him.” Once the Twice clones are in motion, you unwrap the scarf you bought earlier today and shove it into Spinner’s hands. “Use that as a tourniquet for one of his legs. Find something else for the other one.”

Spinner doesn’t question it. You wonder if he’s made the same calculation as you have, figured out that your survival is tied to Re-Destro’s for right now, but now that you’ve got people helping him, you can focus on Tomura. And Tomura is – is –

The rise and fall of his ribcage is lopsided. He’s got a punctured lung. His shirt’s been torn away, and most of his torso is turning a strange mottled color, one you remember all too well from the victims at Kamino. Internal bleeding. His left hand’s down to three fingers. His right arm’s all but flayed. His leg’s broken so badly that you can see pieces of his femur protruding through his skin. The only thing that’s still working properly seems to be his heart. He still has a pulse, but he needs more help than you can give him. You can’t tourniquet internal bleeding. You can’t stitch wounds inside his body. As much as you want to save him, this is out of your skill set by a hundred kilometers.

You hear a helicopter approaching, and when you look up, you see a cross painted on its side. Medevac, but they’re here for Re-Destro, not for Tomura. When he sees the medics approaching, Re-Destro shakes his head. “Take him. I can wait.”

You’re terrified that they won’t listen, but Re-Destro’s minions are loyal. They come to Tomura’s side instead, load him onto a stretcher, and rush him to the helicopter with you chasing after them. One medic turns to tell you to back off and you shout in her face. “I’m a nurse! I can help!”

You’re not sure if she believes you, or if she just believes that you’ll throw yourself in anyway and spend the entire flight clinging to the landing gear if she says no. Whatever her reasons are, she steps aside, and you scramble onto the helicopter alongside Tomura’s stretcher.

You’ve never been inside any helicopter before, and you have a feeling that most of them aren’t this nice. They have actual gear, actual scanners, and while you get pressed into service trying to secure Tomura’s broken leg, then promptly kicked out to deal with his right arm, the medic who let you in runs a scanner over his torso. The image pops up on a screen attached to the cockpit divider, and when you glance up at it, your heart plummets a thousand meters, all the way back to earth.

Internal bleeding, just like you thought. Massive internal injuries, the kind a person can’t come back from, and the medic who ran the scan shakes her head. “Even if we had the blood to transfuse him, we can’t waste resources. This is ATC, and with those injuries – he’s not going to make it to the hospital.”

“No.” Your voice comes out watery and weak. “There’s something you can do. There has to be. I know –”

“You’re a nurse. You should know.” The medic gives you a look. “He’s got minutes. Say your goodbyes.”

It feels unreal. It can’t be real. This can’t be happening. Not like this, not after everything the two of you have been through, not after he’s won. How could you have let this happen to him? You look back up at the scan, hoping desperately that something’s changed and finding nothing. The medic is right. You’re a nurse, and you should know – a patient with injuries this severe isn’t someone who can be saved. No matter how many surgeons could work on them, no matter how many units of blood they might be transfused, there’s no way to hammer life back into a body this damaged. It’s cruel to try.

You lift his right hand, careful to avoid making contact with all his fingers at once. You can’t kiss it, but you bow your head over it all the same, fighting back tears. You can’t face the thought of never hearing his voice again, never linking little fingers with him again, never kissing him or making him laugh or playing another game. You swore you’d follow him through the end of the old world and into the new one. You can’t lose him again. If you could take his place, you would.

“Tenko,” you whisper, even though he can’t hear you, even though everything that matters is already beyond your reach. Maybe that’s why it’s easy to say, why the words are lighter than air on your tongue. “Tenko, I love you.”

You curl over his hand, eyes shut, head bowed. You can’t watch the light leave his face. Feeling his hand go limp and cold will be horrible enough. You stay still and wait as seconds tick past. Seconds, then minutes. The medic said he had minutes. How many minutes did she mean? A spark of hope catches in your chest and you smother it without mercy. He’s gone. You can’t have him back this time. He’s gone.

You hear the medic’s voice, but nothing she says makes sense. “Scan him again.”

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

You stay where you are until someone nudges you aside, but you don’t open your eyes, and you don’t let go of Tenko’s hand. The scanner hums as it runs over his limp, nearly lifeless body, then emits an excruciatingly loud beep. Even with your eyes shut, you see the flash of the screen coming to life. The medic’s voice is hesitant, stunned. “Holy hell.”

“That’s not possible,” the other medic says. “It isn’t! Not without –”

Both of them stop talking. If they’re not going to explain, you should look up and see for yourself. You open your eyes, and sit up, and that’s when you see the second scan, side-by-side with the first. And they’re – different. The first scan is apocalyptic, unsurvivable. Even someone with no medical training could tell. The second scan is bad, too, but it’s better. Better enough to change his status from black-tagged to red-tagged in the medics’ opinion, because they get back to work, working around you rather than telling you to move.

It’s weird, because you’re definitely in the way. You’d ask you to move, if you were them. Do they need you to help? You ask, and the other medic lets out a cracked, uncomfortable laugh. “You’re more useful where you are.”

“What?” you say blankly. “I don’t understand.”

“I do,” the doctor says in your ear. You’d forgotten he was there. “Tell me what you see.”

You describe the first scan, then the second. “Hm. It sounds to me as if Shigaraki’s body is repairing itself,” the doctor says. “Small repairs, obviously – he still requires major surgery and quite a bit of luck – but even such repairs take hours, days, or even weeks to occur naturally. And here they’ve occurred within the space of a few minutes. My dear Saintess – it seems you have a quirk after all.”

The doctor keeps talking, about how he and All For One are never wrong, how you were so silly to doubt him, how he knew your quirk would awaken if the right circumstances were met, and you ignore him. It’s easy to do, just like it’s easy to ignore the medics as they pivot around you, easy to ignore the pilots’ discussion of which MLA-controlled hospital to make for, easy to ignore the fresh scan that pops up on the screen, revealing even more improvement – impossibly slight, but enough. You focus on holding Tenko’s hand, keeping it safe between yours for the landing on the hospital’s roof, the race down to the operating theater, the hours and hours of surgery that leave you dead-on-your-feet tired, interrupted only by orders to move this way or that.

You’re still holding his hand as they wheel him out of surgery, into the recovery unit off the ICU. Still not thinking. Still ignoring everything but his hand, warm and wrapped in bandages, a pulse still beating in his wrist. He stirs slightly in his sleep, eyelids fluttering half-open with no awareness behind them, and you wonder if he’s in pain, if you can call someone to medicate him so he’ll get a good night’s sleep for the first time in months. Your hands are stiff and frozen around his, locked into position for hours on end, and you force yourself to let go. You might need your hands to help him. You’re still a medic, still a nurse. He might need more from you than this.

You leave your little finger linked with his, though. It’s tradition by now, and tradition, too, to tighten your grip just a little bit, letting him know you’re here. “I love you,” you say, in case he’s listening. It still feels easy to say.

Tenko doesn’t stir, doesn’t open his eyes. But his breathing is even, his heartbeat steady, and his finger hooks a little tighter around yours. He’s all the way under. It’s just a reflex, but you’ll take it as proof: In spite of everything, he’s here, too.

#shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x you #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki tomura x you #tomura shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki x you #shimura tenko x reader #shimura tenko x you #tenko shimura x reader #tenko shimura x you #x reader #reader insert #please hold #man door hand hook car door

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linkemon · 13 days ago

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Beauty and the Beast (Bakugō Katsuki x Reader) 9

ʙᴀᴋᴜɢᴏ ᴋᴀᴛꜱᴜᴋɪ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴄᴜʀꜱᴇᴅ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀ ʙᴇᴀꜱᴛ. ʟᴏᴄᴋᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴄᴀꜱᴛʟᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄᴀʟ ᴏʙᴊᴇᴄᴛꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴏɴᴄᴇ ʜɪꜱ ꜱᴜʙᴊᴇᴄᴛꜱ, ʜᴇ ꜱʟᴏᴡʟʏ ʟᴏꜱᴇꜱ ʜᴏᴘᴇ. ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ᴏɴᴇ ᴅᴀʏ, [ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ], ꜰᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ ʜᴇʀ ꜱɪꜱᴛᴇʀ'ꜱ ʟɪꜰᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛɪᴍɪᴅᴀᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴏᴠᴇʀʜᴀᴜʟ ᴀʀʀɪᴠᴇꜱ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀꜱᴛʟᴇ. ɪɴɪᴛɪᴀʟ ʀᴇʟᴜᴄᴛᴀɴᴄᴇ, ʙᴏʀɴꜱ ᴀ ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱʜɪᴘ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴏꜰ ᴀᴅᴠᴇɴᴛᴜʀᴇꜱ, ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ɢʀᴏᴡꜱ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴛɪᴍᴇ.

The whole series can be found here. Part 1 is here. Part 10 coming soon.

When you go out

[Reader] stood before the enormous gates leading to the palace, pacing back and forth along the same path in restless impatience. The enchanted objects weren’t even sure anymore if it was worth waiting. She had insisted on staying just a little longer, hoping Katsuki would show up, though she no longer had much faith in that. That’s why she was genuinely surprised to see him standing before her. He held a woven wicker basket that, despite its age, somehow held together. Unsure of what to say, she started down the forest path.

— Do you like picnics? — she broke the silence.

— No — said the king.

Then what are you doing here? — she wanted to ask.

— His Majesty meant to say he didn’t like palace picnics — Kirishima corrected him, clattering with his wooden legs.

The enchanted objects darted in and out of the thickets, appearing sometimes ahead of them, sometimes behind. The girl kept her eyes on the ground, afraid of accidentally stepping on one of them. The Beast, however, didn’t seem particularly concerned.

Bakugō let out a heavy sigh. Kirishima’s intervention had forced him to elaborate, which he wasn’t happy about.

— The picnics my parents organized were... over the top. Tons of food, decorations and a whole lot of boring, pompous people I didn’t even know. I had to wander around, talk to them and try to win their favour just because I was the future king.

It was just another kind of party that restricted his freedom. Occasionally, someone would set up some archery targets as entertainment, giving him a chance to sneak away from the noble circles for a little while — but not for long. Usually, sooner or later, he’d be cornered by an advisor or a foreign noble with a proposal to marry him off to their daughter. He hated listening to them.

— Our picnic will be completely different. I only brought a blanket and some wine. And besides, you’re stuck with me instead of a crowd of boring people — [Reader] laughed. — What’s in the basket?

— I made sandwiches. — He shrugged.

He’d wanted to do something more, something to show her he could. But he hadn’t even been sure whether he should come on this strange outing and by the time he’d decided, there wasn’t any time left. So, he’d sliced up a big loaf of bread and made the first thing that came to mind. The enchanted objects assured him the distance wasn’t as great as it seemed but he felt as though something was pulling him back with every step. Ignoring the dull ache, he focused on the road ahead.

— Your mother was a very good queen.

The sentence immediately pulled his attention away from his discomfort. It had been so long since anyone had mentioned her. He often called her an Old Hag but he knew she was much better at being a ruler than he was. She annoyed him because she burdened him with responsibilities he hated. But that didn’t mean he didn’t recognize how hard she worked. He’d seen her fall asleep over ledgers or maps. Sometimes, when he snuck out of the palace late at night, he’d see his father approach her, drape a blanket over her shoulders and finish her speeches or edicts himself. Now, all that remained of her was a dusty chamber.

— After those picnics, there was always leftover food. She gave it to the needy. I even got some once. Back in spring, when my village was running low on food, I hadn’t eaten for days. She came and personally handed me a sandwich. At the time, I didn’t even know who she was. If not for her, I might not be here now.

— My mother... was... — The lump in his throat grew, making it hard to speak. — She was different from me. She was suited for all of this.

That’s how he felt. She knew exactly what to do, how to speak and everyone adored her. He was never like that. He played a role he’d been forced into. He didn’t fit in at court. He didn’t know how to care for people like she did. He couldn’t care less about his subjects. They seemed like an indistinct mass far away. Charitable outings were met with grumbles of displeasure and he usually skipped them, leaving them to others. But now, having met [Reader] and realizing she might owe her life to such a gesture, it stopped being an abstract concept. It became tangible proof that such actions truly affected people’s lives.

— Overhaul seems to have plenty of money — he deduced from the man’s clothing and demeanor. — And yet, you starved?

— He didn’t. I did. I wasn’t always a lady — she accented the word with a small smile. — I grew up on the streets. From time to time, people let me stay with them in exchange for work. Then, one day, he came and offered me a permanent roof over my head, meals and new clothes if I was willing to learn.

As a child, she’d been enchanted by the life spread out before her. The orphanage was just a cover. The new life was full of opportunities to access things she’d only ever dreamed of — beautiful gowns, rooms filled with food, and countless new skills. Over time, however, she realized she could dress as she pleased but only if it aligned with current trends or Overhaul’s preferences. She could eat only dainty bites, at designated times and with perfect etiquette. Her education had to align with what Overhaul needed, so she could forget about learning swordsmanship.

In exchange, she had to smile and dazzle. Sometimes, she attended parties to steal documents from a rich man’s safe. Other times, she eavesdropped on gossip or confidential conversations. Occasionally, she delivered written threats to various places. It was a small price to pay for the basics of life.

— It was enough for me until Eri came into the picture at the residence.

— Your younger sister? — The fact that Katsuki even knew who she was genuinely surprised [Reader]. She rarely talked about her, certainly not to him. He must’ve been paying very close attention, unless one of the enchanted objects had explicitly told him. But she had a feeling they’d kept that detail to themselves.

— Yes. We don’t share the same mother but we still call ourselves sisters. She’s the one who told me I should demand more, speak up for what I want and that I deserved better. It was all so beautiful... but also naïve. I believed her. When I told Overhaul I didn’t want to continue etiquette lessons, he slapped me. After that, every cup of tea I drank was as if someone were watching me.

The memory reminded Bakugō of an incident in the kitchen long ago. A weight settled in his chest and he was almost certain it wasn’t because of the blue rose.

— Then I refused to marry Shigaraki, so he decided to starve me instead. The servants kept a close eye on me. I managed to get by for a while but eventually, he realized what he should’ve done from the start.

— He threatened your sister — the king finished for her.

— He said that if I don’t yield, he’ll start conducting experiments. The ones so far haven’t been that bad but his future plans are awful. I’m not sure exactly why he needs the rose but somehow it can replace what concerns Eri.

The Eight Precepts of Death sought power and dominance. The group saw an opportunity in forming an alliance with the League of Villains through marriage. For years, neither had been able to seize power on their own. Both managed to orchestrate a few conspiracies but they were usually quickly suppressed. Now, however, in a kingdom without a king and a council of nobles easily bribed, they saw a chance.

— We’re here — announced Gentle.

— Indeed — echoed La Brava.

The view was truly beautiful. A gentle breeze created ripples on the surface of the lake. The trees were covered in fresh green leaves. The group settled on a sandy patch of the shore. [Reader] took the second blanket from Katsuki's basket and tied it between two trees. The magical friends were delighted with the hammock and took turns swinging in it.

— I bet if I skip a stone, mine will bounce more times! — The girl knew nothing motivated Bakugō more than competition.

They raced to gather stones, combing the shoreline but staying out of the water. It was freezing cold. Just approaching its edge was enough to feel the chill, even though the sun shone brightly overhead.

They threw stones of all shapes and colours. Their enchanted belongings cheered them on. Denki, of course, shouted the loudest when [Reader] managed to set a new record. She decided she could even forgive him for spilling the beans in the library, convinced every bird around the castle had already flown away from his noise. Kirishima claimed that whoever won the little contest didn’t matter because everyone was having fun. That didn’t stop the girl from teasing the king about her victory.

— And that’s why I’m taking the first sandwich! — she declared, lunging toward the basket.

— Not a chance! — Bakugō raised the basket high, out of her reach. He immediately took out a sandwich and ate it whole, a smug grin spreading across his face.

— Did you see that? — she turned to their lounging friends. — That’s unfair! — she groaned.

— We’d love to help you — began Gentle, blowing steam from his spout.

— We really would — added La Brava, splashing tea left and right — but we’re busy.

The girl sat on the blanket with her arms crossed. She turned her head away but out of the corner of her eye, she saw a large brown paw offering her food. She didn’t respond, simply accepting the sandwich. In exchange, she slid over a bottle of wine, hoping the odd truce proposal would be understood. It was. They sat in silence for a while, watching their rowdy friends swinging nearby.

— Is this from the library? — Katsuki lifted a book of fairy tales.

She nodded.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d picked up anything to read. He preferred learning from real-life examples. His mother had insisted he read many books to prepare him for his future reign. He remembered little from them now but he could recite most battle strategies and combat tips by heart.

His nights had never been great. He often had trouble sleeping. Lately, it had been worse. So, when he stumbled upon his mother’s favourite books while cleaning the library, he took them with him. The queen had a habit of jotting down her thoughts in the margins. He recalled how much the royal librarian used to scold her for it. Back then, he didn’t understand why she wasted time writing words on paper. Now, reading her notes in the moonlight, he felt as though he were having a conversation with her. It gave him strange, mixed feelings.

— I don’t like reading but Eri loves happy endings. That’s why I’ll read them all to tell her about when I return.

— What’s your sister like? — It genuinely piqued his curiosity since learning of her existence. From what he’d heard, she was little. And he wasn’t fond of kids. Most "brats", as he called them, usually got in his way or chased him around the palace, asking him to teach them something.

— Eri’s too good for this world. Cheerful and warm, like sunshine. I think you’d like her and she’d like you.

Somehow, he found that hard to believe but [Reader] seemed utterly convinced.

— Kids don’t like monsters. No one ever liked me back then and I doubt that’s changed.

It was true. In the past, those who associated with him at court were usually there for some benefit. Kirishima was a rare exception but Katsuki had recently wondered if, after the way he secured him his dream position, Kirishima still considered him the same friend.

He wanted to take back his words. They sounded sentimental, overly emotional and foolish — like he cared. But he wasn’t like that. He didn’t need others’ approval to be happy. Before he could add anything, [Reader] interrupted.

— Well... Most people don’t like pompous jerks. Who you are... — That sentence made a sharp retort dance on the tip of his tongue. — But Eri would like you anyway. Besides, you still have your subjects... and me... because I like you — she finished softly.

— As if I care — Katsuki shrugged.

His mind was in turmoil. He didn’t know what to cling to anymore. His heart beat faster and he couldn’t pretend it was because of the rose’s distance. The dull pain eased for a moment. It was such a strange feeling that it left him silent. When was the last time someone openly admitted they liked him? His gruff, unrefined self with the sharp tongue? And in this wretched form he hated to see in the mirror?

A loud splash broke his thoughts, followed by desperate cries from where his enchanted friends had been swinging. Something white flashed quickly and disappeared into the lake.

— It’s Ochaco! — Denki shouted. — She’s going to die! — he wailed.

— We’re all going to die! — added the teacup.

— Tea to calm everyone down? — the teapot asked calmly.

— Nobody’s dying! Calm down — the Guard Captain searched for anything that could help the drowning maid.

He looked for sticks but quickly realized that without hands, even with a branch, he was useless.

Without much thought, [Reader] ran into the freezing water. She took a deep breath and dove. The water was murky and muddy. The bottom felt like sludge. She couldn’t see anything but tried to feel around for something resembling her friend. Before she could search much, something yanked her upward. She blinked rapidly, rubbing her eyes. Bakugō’s paw held her above the water. In his other paw was a soaked, muddy Ochaco.

The three made it to shore, where they were immediately swarmed by their panicking friends. Everyone hugged the featherduster, apologizing profusely and promising never to swing the hammock so hard again.

— But could she really have died? — Kaminari had a sudden realization.

Everyone paused to process his words. They quickly concluded that objects don’t breathe. The worst that could have happened was her spending the rest of the day at the lake’s bottom among cattails and stones. Now [Reader] felt a little foolish. She’d jumped to the rescue when it wasn’t really necessary. She didn’t regret it, though. Even if she was soaking wet and the cold was starting to creep in.

— Thank you, [Reader] — Ochaco tried to wipe the mud from her light feathers. — And you, Your Highness — she added.

Katsuki felt strange. They’d barely spoken before. He knew why. Until recently, it hadn’t bothered him. But every time something reminded him of Midoriya, unease crept back. The thought that he might be responsible for his death haunted him. And this maid was the most vivid reminder of it all. She annoyed him. He realized why. He owed his survival to her, which hurt even more. If she hadn’t intervened with the old matron of her fiancé, would he still be standing here?

— I think we’ve had enough excitement for today — Kirishima announced.

The group agreed and began packing up. They didn’t have much. [Reader] wrapped herself in a blanket and handed the other to her strangely quiet companion.

— I’m not cold — Katsuki said, throwing his blanket over her head.

When she freed herself from it, she saw that all their enchanted friends had settled into the basket. A free ride must have seemed like a good idea. Of course, not without the king’s complaints. After all, they had legs of their own. But when it turned out they’d all fallen asleep, he stopped grumbling, realizing it was pointless.

— What would you say if you could leave this place? — Bakugō’s voice faded among the forest trees.

— If this is a rhetorical question to see if I’d run, I’m not falling for it — [Reader] laughed.

— If you want to leave... to see your sister or something... I won’t stop you. You don’t have to worry about my deal with Overhaul. I’ll keep my word.

Saying it made him wonder what he was even doing with his life. He still had a chance to break the curse and return to being human. The odds of someone like her showing up during the time he had left were practically zero.

And yet now, knowing so much, it was hard not to let her go free. He’d done to her what everyone had done to him years ago. They wanted to crown him, despite him not wanting it. And she was part of a transaction with even less say than he’d had. Besides, someone was waiting for her. His family had long since passed. If he could talk to that Old Hag again or see her one last time...

— I’ll think about it but for now, I don’t plan to leave. I miss Eri but as long as I’m here, she’s safe. Even if you kept your word, I don’t think Overhaul would believe it. The moment I show up at the estate, he’ll know. And then he’ll either resume his experiments or marry me off — or both. Do you really have to get rid of me? — she asked with a small smile.

They stopped before the palace doors.

— Looks like I’m stuck with you — Katsuki sighed dramatically.

With that, he disappeared down one of the long hallways.

— You really like her, don’t you, Your Highness? — Ochaco murmured sleepily. — I think there’s still hope for all of us...

He didn’t reply. He put the basket down and headed to his bedroom. That night, he wasn’t haunted by nightmares of blood-stained visions or blue rose petals. For the first time in a long while, he dreamed of something else. The kingdom from years ago. The throne room. And finally, hazy silhouettes resembling his parents. It was a good dream.

#bakugo katsuki x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bakugo x you #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #kirishima eijirou #ochaco uraraka #kaminari #la brava #gentle criminal #beauty and the beast

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