𝐌𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐲 - 𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐲𝐚x𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝑽𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒊𝒏 MHA

★⋆𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑬𝒍𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏⋆★

𝙋𝙐𝘽𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙃𝙀𝘿― 6/26/23

𝙍𝙀𝙑𝙄𝙎𝙀𝘿― 12/25/24

丨-Chapter Eleven ▬ Uncertainty -丨

—ꜱᴇɢᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ ᴏꜰ - ᴛʜᴇ ᴇxᴘᴏꜱᴇᴅ—

  ʚ▬▬ι═ ═══ﺤ Musutafu City, Urban park─ 4:30 PM │

ONE WEEK LATER. . .

┆--Y/N POV--┆

Quirks. They were such strange little things, weren't they?

You wonder what the world would be like if they never existed. Probably a dull boring place, but balanced. Fair. And you?

Where would you be? 

Still with your family? 

With your mother...?

A faint grin pulled at your lips, though it didn't reach your eyes, not like a real smile would. "Meh," You muttered to yourself, temporarily brushing the thought away with a slight shake of your head. That kind of thinking was dangerous, a slippery slope leading nowhere. People. Trust. Attachment. All of it just waiting for the perfect moment to kick you in the teeth.

As an avid movie watcher, you've seen how trusting characters have paid the price for having attachments. They made perfect examples of what happens when you become so... domesticated. And a life of true freedom wasn't something you could afford to put on the line. Not for anyone. Not for anything.

Your fingers tightened around the grip of the revolver tucked securely in your holster, the weight of it grounding you to your identity. A single bullet was loaded and ready for his skull. Just one pull of the trigger, and you'd be free of him.

Midoriya didn't matter─ whether he had All Might's stupid strength quirk or not.

The back of your mind itched with thoughts of backlash, but you shoved them away. Let them come, let every hero track you down, Polterheist always prevails. You'd learned not to care. Not about things. Not about people. And you were very good at it. You'd dodge the curse of responsibility and consequences till the day you die.

"Difficult decisions," You muttered with bitterness, pretending to lean casually against the cold, moss-covered brick wall lining the edge of the park. "Can't they just... go away?"

"𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒚. 𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒔..."

I intend to do so. Your eyes tracked higher, zeroing in on him. Already you were imagining the position he'd fall in, the pool of blood that the soil around him would drink up.

Across the field, the boy trained, his movements sharp, determined, and purposeful. He was working on his quirk for that Sports Festival that he wouldn't stop yammering about. Sports Festival this, Sports Festival that. His excitement about it bordered on irritating. It's like he couldn't see the whole thing was a glorified circus for raising cannon fodder. U.A. was just another factory funded by the HPSC, churning out sheep in Halloween costumes.