Smoke and Mirrors | BNHA FANFIC

┊ ONE

              Nothing felt worse than being trapped in your own mind. To be constantly aware of every shuffle, cough, sigh and click of a ball-point pen. It was absolutely frustrating. Sayuri could see nothing except the back of her eyelids. No shapes could be made out other than the amorphous blobs of light that barely filtered through. All attempts to move were cancelled by some unknown force, as if she had been tied down and shot up with some sort of numbing medicine. Absolutely dull.

First it was panic, why can't I feel anything? Second came fear, will I ever get out of this? Third, frustration of constant attempts to move even a finger yet being unable. Finally, acceptance, it was no use. After all, she was in a coma. Sayuri knew, deep down, that this was the result of that incident.

Locks shifted ever-so-slightly within the door as its knob rotated counter-clockwise. Indistinct conversation came to a halt every inch it swung open. Doctors, she deduced. They always arrived at the 25,200th second after she woke up every morning. They always muttered the same apathetic things.

"Check vitals," attending Doctor Yamamoto instructed. "Steady," the resident interns responded. A very audible sigh slithered around the room as Doctor Yamamoto finished filing what was frankly, redundant paperwork.

"Miss Kitagawa's brain functions are above 46 percent," Yamamoto started. "Yet she still shows no significant signs of leaving her comatose state."

"Why won't she wake up? It's been a year or so," one of the young male residents inquired. The man pursed his lips, a contemplative look on his age-worn face.

"It's likely due to Miss Kitagawa refusing to. After what she experienced, it wouldn't be such a stretch to assume she's protecting herself."

Was he a doctor or a therapist? Sayuri would have scoffed at the man for his mediocre attempts to sound insightful to his young students. They bought it, though. It was remarkable how gullible the new generations were. Maybe she'd knock some sense into those taut little brains when she woke up.

Speaking of which, it was true that Kitagawa Sayuri hadn't regained consciousness since the night of her incident. That was over a year ago. From all the doctor talk she'd been forced to listen to and basic common sense, it wasn't normal. Typically if a patient doesn't wake up from a comatose state it's due to their brain functions being below the 46 percent cut off.

She was above that though. That's what was frustrating; she could wake up if she wanted to. The problem is that she wasn't. As much as she hated to admit the doctor being right, the man had a fair idea. Maybe she was protecting herself.

From what? There was nothing left for her to be afraid of. Nothing except his face. Every moment she was 'awake' she could recall his maniac laughter. Shivers ran down her spine as she recollected the events that night. Frankly she had been avoiding it.

Fear crawled up her spine as the inky space around her vanished and morphed into something far more sinister. Flames crawled up wood walls as if they were some kind of spider. It was difficult to breathe, as if every intake filled her lungs with lead.

Sayuri couldn't even begin count the amount of times she'd witnessed this scene. Over and over, she lived in her own personal hell. Over and over she failed to do what she should have done that night.

Steps weighed down with regret echoed down the hall as she moved forward. The walls she'd known since birth now stand charred and ugly; Everything she'd loved now seemed disgusting to her. Sayuri fought to keep salty tears bay.

Stop, stop, stop!

Sayuri begged her body to listen. Heat licked her skin and left welts in their wake. It hurt so much. Why? In all the times she'd done this repetative scenario she'd never actually felt anything. Her body had always been numb to the heat and to the injuries sustained by her interaction with him. Always.

No. This was different. Sayuri could tell that something was terribly wrong this time. As she turned the knob to her parents room, she knew. Every millisecond it took for the wooden door to open caused her eyes to widen the size of saucers.

A shadow stood tall amongst the destruction. The walls had been blown out, leaving the sky free to view the happenings below. In his hand was the scruff of her father's shirt. Terror gripped her entire being. She knew her mother was already gone. Sayuri refused to watch the blood pool under her mother's body, not this time.

"R-Run..." her father begged. His swollen eyes turned to her, studying the details for the last time. Furiously, Sayuri shook her head. The blonde strands fell into her face as she took a step forward. A resolve hard as steel formed. Sayuri could save them! Her quirk...!

The young female stretched her arm towards the intruder, determined to kill. Tears blurred her vision and her body shook uncontrollably. She could do it this time. She'd save them this time! Failure wouldn't be the end.

Yet, just as it happened every time, the figure rushed at Sayuri with ease. He captured her outstretched arm with his hand and stared down at her soundlessly. She was completely immobilized and at his mercy.

It was here that the memory would end and she'd be plunged into darkness once more. That's how it always was. So she prepared herself to return to solitude, closing her eyes and accepting fate.

When nothing happened and the crackling of burning wood didn't fade away, her eyes fluttered open with curiosity. As soon as her vision returned her body went completely rigid. This feeling was something more than terror, if that were possible. His eyes were trained on Sayuri, bloodshot and maniacal. Pain pulsated through her body, focusing on her arm as he squeezed tighter. The snap of her bones echoed though the air.

This was different─how was there more?

Sayuri screamed as he pulled her arm slowly. She screamed when he tore it off with his brute strength. The pain was so intense and overwhelming, she nearly fainted. Is this what she was missing this past year? The thing that she was protecting herself from? 

"Found...you..."

His laughter filled her head as her eyes snapped open and screamed. The roof of the hospital room filled her sight. Bullets of sweat rolled down her forehead as she moved her head around. She was awake. The beeping of the heart monitor was erratic from her startled state. IV tubes and needles were embedded in her right arm. Slowly her eyes traced to the arm she had lost in her dream. Sayuri didn't want it to be true. She prayed that it was just a figment of her imagination.

However, nothing ever goes as one wishes. In the place where soft flesh should have been, was a cold metal replica. An apathetic sort of feeling took over her mind, numbing it to the reality of the situation. She had lost everything: her parents, her sister, her home and even her arms. Did she have anything left?

Anger, resentment, frustration.

Everything negative, they swirled like a maelstrom in her heart. Doctors rushed in and crawled all over her skin. They asked question after question and performed test after test. Although they seemed to care for her well being, they paid no heed to her mental state. Sayuri simply stared at the wall as they poked and prodded.

What worried her the most were the words he spoke in the last few seconds. Deep down, Sayuri knew that he had never said anything in their encounter. Did this mean that he was sending her a message?

If so, why now?