querencia | BNHA Various x Reader

Chapter Zero - A Blur

"ʀᴇɢʀᴇᴛ ɪꜱ ᴀ ꜰᴏʀᴍ ᴏꜰ ᴘᴜɴɪꜱʜᴍᴇɴᴛ ɪᴛꜱᴇʟꜰ."

__________

"I didn't mean to! I really didn't mean to...!" He cried.

He just kept yelling and yelling, flinging his arms in the air in a desperate attempt to keep them from touching — and therefore destroying— anything else. Your ears were starting to ring, his constant whining beginning to sound like nails scraping against a chalkboard.

You tried reaching out a hand towards the terrified boy, but he harshly flinched away, looking at you with a notably mortified expression.

"I can't..." He began, choking on his own sobs, dark hair sticking to his forehead with either sweat or water from the rain. "I can't kill you, too!"

You stared blankly. You, being only 4 years old at the time, and lacking very important context, couldn't begin to grasp the severity of the situation. All you knew was that there was blood everywhere, and a very grief-stricken boy, around 7 years old, in front of you who wouldn't stop crying and twisting his arms around painfully.

The rain pounded heavily against the metal roofs above you, water droplets bouncing onto the dirty ground littered with debris. You could see the dirt staining your white sneakers, and feel the water drench your hair so much that it felt like a dumbbell was placed on your head.

"Calm—" You tried, voice small and worried. You were cut off by another yell.

"Why?!" The boy screamed, forcefully slamming his hands on the ground, which began to rapidly decay beneath his fingertips. He scrambled away when he noticed the damage he was inflicting. You couldn't help but think that the decayed concrete looked alot like the rotting pile in the corner next to the trash bin.

You were only looking for your cat, who had gone missing sometime around 8pm. You were aware that it was too late for you to start looking for him, especially alone, but you also knew that if you didn't take responsibility for your actions, your parents would have your head.

It would probably be better to get scolded for letting the door open and letting your cat escape, than get kidnapped by some villain, but you were young. You didn't know any better.

(You wish you did.)

You had walked all around your neighborhood, shaking a bag of kibble and calling out his name until your throat got hoarse. You attracted a few weird stares, but nobody bothered to reach out. A normal thing in your town.

It was around the 1 hour mark when you saw a familiar, fluffy figure sprint into an alleyway, followed by pained meows and screeches. You had dropped the bag of food and ran towards the sound, only to find yourself in your current predicament.

You bit your lip, inching closer towards the hunched boy and, again, trying to pat him. He felt you coming near and started shaking, starting to hyperventilate.

Your hand retracted back to your chest, forming a fist. "...What happened?"

Your question only seemed to freak him out even more, as his head snapped towards you in shock, like he wasn't aware of your presence, despite you being there for a good 10 minutes.

"You need to leave..." He wheezed out, staring back down at his shaking hands, coated with half-dried blood.

Your face twisted in concern. You were worried, but also scared. You should've ran back to your house a long time ago. You weren't supposed to stay here.

"But—"

He cut you off again, "Leave!"

You stayed quiet, slowly inching away from him. You looked deeper into the alleyway and found a small, limp body thrown on the floor, its bottom missing and blood steadily pouring from its exposed half, being washed away by the rain. You swallowed back the bile that made its way up your throat, and looked away.

It was your cat.

It was your cat and—

You were woken up by your bedroom door slamming open.