Forsaken

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The hours were long, far longer than any had been before. At least, that was how he felt. Red Hood's gloved right hand held the contoured handle of his sniper rifle tightly. For the last 2 days without rest or sleep, he watched the doors leading to the Detnerat building, noting every instance of when someone entered or exited, what they looked like, and what direction they walked in after leaving.

Anything and everything lest he be left alone with his own thoughts because, as it turns out, the world isn't kind to someone who defies the natural order.

At first, he had ignored the small irritations that would be no more than a minor annoyance. The sound of dripping water in his ears, an itch on a piece of skin he could never reach, and the small instances of phantom pain he would experience.

However, in quiet moments like this, he was forced to remember. To ironically live both his death and his rebirth. The feeling of his skin turning cold, the warmth of his blood escaping, vision darkening until he could no longer see.

Then, he woke with his airways blocked as he drowned in the water of the Lazarus pit. His body, mind, and soul knew that, at that very moment, he had no right to be there. That somehow he did not belong in this world. Even now, that choking feeling returned, like a rope was growing tighter on his neck with each passing second. Yet no matter how much he moved his head, tried to clear his throat, or rationalize the feeling, he could not rid himself of it.

It reminded him that despite him sitting here now, the league, Shigaraki had killed him. He was now no better than a living corpse, Izuku Midoriya, Inko Midoriya. They both died in that warehouse. It was only by pure coincidence that he was "alive." An instance of both bad and good luck.

Looking at the desk that supported his rifle, Red Hood scanned the wood. Abundant were the wrappers of the nutrition bars he had been surviving off of. Next to them are empty bottles of water. The luxury of a hot meal was long gone, and so was a minute of shut-eye. Not that he would want it, although the silence brought memories; sleep only got nightmares.

A sigh erupted from Red Hood, right eye still focused on his sniper's scope. The hour and shade of the sky marked the end of the third day he had stayed in this figurative Utopia. Deika City, from what he observed, was a place with no issue. Citizens walked around with their heads held high, heroes roamed the streets with smiles, and the villains? Their attacks were low and in areas that seemed controlled. At least, that was what he garnered from the news broadcasts.

It was... something that he wanted to achieve in Japan, but seeing just a part of it as a reality felt wrong, almost disturbing. 'It's impossible.' He thought this since his encounter with the cafe. This solidarity and togetherness was artificial, and if not that, then it was manipulated. It made him realize that the dream of Izuku of Deku was a fantasy of some naive kid. This peacefulness would not last long; there were more villains like the league.

Butcherers... Murderers... Animals.

Pressure built on Red Hood's body. His muscles began to lightly ache, and his bones trembled while his skin itched. It was only for a second, but Red Hood looked out from the scope of his rifle and down to his left hand. It shook and danced along his palm and fingers like red lightning. He had partly forgotten his quirk; nowadays, he hardly used it. He didn't know whether to blame himself or his resurrection, but the quirk was far more unstable than it was at first. He guessed it was both.

He allowed his quirk to run rampant, his fist clenching as he forced his trembling to stop. He let the pressure build continuously for a few seconds before finally cutting the quirk off. With a grunt, Red Hood sat back in his chair, taking off his left glove. The skin underneath, generally of a healthy complexion, was already turning a light purple. Just a few seconds of use bruised his skin, and if he used it longer, his muscles would begin tearing, and nerves would start frying.

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