Blood and Air [Bakugo X OC]

Waking Up

"Can I go now?" My young voice filtered out into the black room. It was broken, betraying the cold expression my face was now stuck in. 

My hair was stuck to my exposed shoulders, soiled crimson. The smell of blood filled the air as I stood, patiently, in the middle of the room, the black walls seemingly absorbing the light from the one fixture above me.

"Not yet, Mira. You have yet to create anything." The sickeningly sweet voice came out over the speakers and I turned to look at the black, reflective window, red astonishing against the white of my uniform and the paleness of my skin. "Once you do, we will let you out."

I looked down, to my red stained hands, clenching them and taking a step forward, out of the pool of blood at my feet. All those failed attempts made me lightheaded, but I can't show it to these people. Or they'll keep me longer than they said they would.

I had been going through so much pain training, that I had only been able to create a sword when I... when I killed that trainer. But, since then, my mind wouldn't let me make anything again. 

Now, I was forced to cut myself over and over and over until I made something larger than a coin.

I felt my canines elongate, the pain of them enlarging in my gums now familiar to me, and I raised my left arm again, the skin clean of scars but covered in blood. I bit down, hard, on my thin forearm, pain blossoming that I ignored. It didn't hurt as much as what they did to me. Quickly pulling away my mouth, I tried hard, to pull the blood out of my body, to form it into a shape and to stay that way.

The blood pulled from my small, thin frame, my head spinning, as my little self fought to stay awake, to shape the crimson liquid into the shape of - there it was. I made it!

A red, liquid sword was beginning to be shaped, the tip of the blade hardening and glinting cold in the shallow light of the room. Then the rest of the liquid followed the tip's lead, hardening into the elongated shape of a blade. There was no hilt, but I didn't mind as I grabbed the incredibly sharp blade, bending my knees to keep me from falling.

It felt just like the blade I stabbed into that man's neck. Cold, heavy, and sharp.

I look over to the reflective window, angry and smug feeling on the inside, cold expression on my face.  I raised the sword, the only thing in this place that I felt comfortable with, and threw it, as hard and fast as I could, towards the window.

I heard shouts over the speakers as the blade pierced the window like butter, going straight through it, hearing a dull thud as it rammed into the wall of the room I have never seen before. Yells and angry shouts were sounded out, but as my head spun and my legs buckled, I swear a smile tilted the lips of my mouth. 

Then I fell into a pool of my own blood and passed out.

********************

I rocked myself, in a ball, against the back of the sofa, a random show playing that I was 'looking' at. I could see the flashes of orange and blue, the angry and comedic voices of characters on the screen. But that wasn't what I was seeing.

I was seeing memories of different times in that place. I was seeing Shoto's worried but determined face as he told me he would always be there for me, no matter how much pain I was in. I was seeing all the guilt that was building up in me, finally allowing it to be released. It was Saturday night, around 10 p.m., and there I sat, finally allowing myself to feel what I have been trying to ignore.

As the wise Bakugo would tell me - I look and feel so shitty.

My ribs were fully healed, and thanks to my Quirk enhancing my natural healing abilities, the pain from my bruising has gone down significantly. That was not where my pain came from anymore.