I promised an extra chapter at every 100k reads. Thanks for 500k <3
I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who makes tik-toks and fan art and spreads the word about my writing. Writers live off word of mouth and I know this is a stupid little fanfic, but honestly writing is my dream.
I know my original stories, my story about when the loml died in the hospital in my arms may not be good enough to be a bestseller or whatever, but I don't care. I care about all of you. You make me who I am by giving my work the light of day and I could not be more thankful. Thank you to all my readers <3
ARC 3
Tenko
Twelve years ago
The phone rarely rings. When it does, I can expect one of two things. Either someone reported a strange figure in the night wearing a mask attempting his shot at vigilantism to the police and followed me home to give them my address and I'm screwed. Or someone from my past needs something.
Kireina calls me with a code. She lets the phone ring twice and then hangs up. Then, she comes to the house that night. It's been a few years since she left me to go to art school. Since then, I've painted over the walls. It's not that I don't love her art. It's that I love her. I don't need any more reminders that she left me than I already have.
I know it's not rational to be upset at her for that. I'm the one who told her to go in the end. We hook up every once in a while. We can't resist it. We both fear that creeping loneliness. We've even made up rules. We never stay till morning. That can turn into us staying together for a week and then neither of us wants to separate.
I miss her. I miss having someone in my life. The house is unbearably big for one person and unbearably quiet. I've been thinking of selling it. But then again, technically, I don't even own it. So when that loneliness creeps into my head and I have thoughts of leaving it all behind, I force myself to remember that this is my atonement.
What I don't realize is that tonight is the night my life will change forever.
Tonight, as the phone rings while I ready myself to leave, mask on my nose and mouth, jacket in my hands, it rings more than twice. It keeps ringing until I answer it.
"An inmate from Musutafu federal prison is attempting to contact you. Do you accept the call?" The automated question stills me completely.
I swallow before answering. "I accept the call."
It takes a second for the line to connect. The man who answers is the last person I thought would ever contact me again.
"Still got a soft spot for thugs, huh?"
"Dabi?"
"Long time no see."
"Why the hell are you calling me!?"
"I need a favor."
"How'd you get this number?"
"Relax. I'm not gonna say your name. Police are gonna listen in." Even if they do, I had the number concealed so that cops couldn't trace it and everything. The only thing that could ruin it is the police knowing I'm still alive. Dabi knows that. He mentions that the police are listening in as a subtle threat. An incentive.
"What do you want?" I bite.
"I have an asset I need you to deliver to this address. Are you ready?" I grumble something under my breath, reaching for a pen and paper. Dabi speaks in an old code we used to use in the liberation army. Once I have the address down and converted, I grumble, casting my hair back and slipping my coat on.
