Regress || bnha x op!reader

10: Arcades are Pretty Nice

warnings: violence, blood mention, creepy men being creepy

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❝The day when everything feels different.❞

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Being in an alleyway has always been a familiar experience to you.

They might be cold and uncomfortable to live in, but back then, they provided so much comfort rather than just running around in the middle of the streets with nothing but crumbled rocks to hide from. At least, in some way, alleyways gave you a chance to rest; at least it gave you some moment to be by yourself, safe, for a while.

Now that you're back in time, you don't have to experience that any longer. You're back in the past, with all the comfort you could get. With all the warmth, the home, and the safe place for you to rest, and you should have been satisfied by that.

But alleyways have always been familiar to you.

They're like a painful reminder of your future, just like the scars on your body.

You can call it being suicidal or having a death wish, but here you were, standing in a dark alleyway once again. Pinned to the wall, with a knife threatening to slice your throat, and a man glaring holes to your body.

A familiar scene in a familiar alleyway.

"You should be careful about what you say, kid."

You welcomed this familiarity without any protests.

The guy holding the knife growled. His pupils were dilated, but the anger in his eyes made him sober enough to speak.

You could have escaped from here. From the moment you followed this guy muttering inside an alley, you could have ignored him and went on with your life.

But death with the promise of a reward tempted you to come here.

There wasn't a guarantee that this man has a Quirk— you know nothing about him after all, you only got glimpses of him on the sidewalk. But if there was a chance he had a useful Quirk, you still needed to try it.

And so you approached. You spoke to him, watched him like a hawk, pushed all the buttons that you could just for him to get mad.

Get mad, he did, and now it led to this situation.

The ends of your lips curled into a challenging smirk, glancing down at the knife that slowly inched towards you. "I don't see what's wrong with what I said. I'm correct, aren't I? You are polluting the air, and you are a bother for the people. Can't you just do something else besides being useless and acting like trash to everyone around you?"

Now, don't get me wrong. Those aren't the kind of words that you should say to anyone, ever. But at this moment, there are bad things you have to say for you to get what you want. That's why, you have to bear through this.

If it means being the shittiest person with the sharpest tongue in the world, then so be it.

"You don't understand what the fuck you're saying," the man growled out. "Everyone says the same thing, they don't bother to know why I do it— they don't bother to see if they're the reason why I do it!"

He pushed the knife near your throat, cutting through your bandages. It's such a sharp knife, as if he had been brandishing it, waiting for a chance to do something like this.