bnha imagines

scars and bruises // i. midoriya

word count: 1.9k

summary: have you ever wondered where you'd gotten that strange bruise on your leg? or that weird cut on your arm that you can never remember where it came from? were you really just that clumsy, or... was it something else?

...

since you were younger, your body has always been beaten and bruised too many times for you to count. however, you'd never yourself gotten hurt.

  there has always been a link between soulmates since the history books could remember, whether it be sharing thoughts, a common splotch of ink, meeting in dreams, or a little red string that tied two people together. but there was a rare one, one that tied two soulmates together by pain; by far the most dangerous, and the one that usually went without being diagnosed. most with the scarring tie thoughts they didn't have a soulmate, as most never met their soulmate. it was believed that those who were reincarnated with this type of bond had done something unforgivable in a past life.

  from a young age, you were all too aware that you'd been one of the lucky ones to receive this painful bond. you would come home with bumps and bruises of all sorts, despite the only thing even remotely dangerous in kindergarten class was sharpening your pencil (lots of things could happen, you could slip and fall while walking to the sharpener or you could accidentally stab or cut yourself). but you could always feel the wind being knocked out of you during lessons, or your knee scraping while you were coloring during recess.

  your parents had worried about you when you'd come home with a black eye or scraped up knees; at first, they believed you were being bullied but refused to come forward, they'd never heard of such a painful bond between soulmates. but much to their horrified surprise, this was all your soulmate.

  you were always careful, cautious as to not hurt your soulmate despite the hurt they'd saddled you with since you could remember. but it was, perhaps, because of your cautious nature that they believed you didn't exist. you had come to terms with that when you were in middle school, when all the girls suggested you pinch your arm to let your soulmate know you were there. you outright refused; your soulmate went through so much already, you couldn't imagine bringing anymore harm to them.

  and that was probably why, despite being the most gentle and careful person, your right arm was so messed up, or your hands would always shake during the simplest task. you would always wear long sleeves to cover up the scars, and bandages to cover up your hands. perhaps your soulmate was a hero, that was the likely answer, but it didn't stop the pain you'd felt every time one of your limbs were broken.

  you were now twenty, a legal adult living on your own with your own apartment and a cat to greet you with a glare when you came home. but, with adulthood and owning your own place, there were certain tasks that needed to be done to keep yourself afloat–tasks like going to the store at two am because you wanted to make cookies but were short on chocolate chips.

  you grabbed a light jacket and slipped on your tennis shoes, not bothering to change out of the shorts you were wearing to lounge around the house. it was a warmer night, sky clear of all clouds and the concrete still warm from the sun beating down on it.

  it was a quick walk to the store, the streets dark in the late hour; it was quiet, just as you would have hoped, only a couple cars passing by on your walk.

  you reached the convenience store in no time, chilling ac greeting you as you walked through the door. you said hello to the clerk, the one who was often working when you came in.

  "brownies again?" he asked.

  you shook your head, "chocolate chip cookies, actually."

  "well, you know where everything is, let me know if you need help," he gave you a small smile, one you returned, before you made your way to the cramped baking section. you reached up to grab a bag of semi-sweets, but before you could, a blast of a gun had gone off in the store, followed by the sound of a crumbling ceiling.