[Chapter 28]: Your Father

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     "At least he wasn't lying about the coffee," I sighed aloud, picking up the lukewarm mug.
With a fluffy robe wrapped around my frame and a book in hand, I sat at the kitchen table and sipped at my coffee. Usually, Aizawa would have been up long before now and breakfast would be on the table—it was the only way he could bribe me to eat in the mornings. I wasn't great at cooking and we both knew it.
     The startling lack of his presence in the empty apartment had a surprising surge of sadness filling my heart. Without Aizawa's idle nagging and the sweet smell of fresh waffles wafting through every inch of the kitchen, it felt... lonely. However, his absence wasn't the only one weighing on my mind. The mug left behind by said person felt heavy in my hands as my fingers drummed against the tabletop, and I lost myself to my thoughts.
     I knew that the likelihood of Hitoshi staying was low. I knew that he'd probably leave right after he woke up. But I also thought that I'd get the chance to say goodbye...
     Things never seemed to go as I planned.
     A shrill ring broke me from my train of thought and I reached for the phone. "Yeah?"
     My ear was met with a short, exasperated huff from the other end of the line. "Really? That's how you answer our phone?"
     "Aizawa!" I chirped happily. "How's the Girl Scouts Getaway going?"
     "It's a training camp," he corrected dejectedly.
     Laughing at his tired tone, I said, "Kids got you stretched thin?"
     "I don't understand how it is even possible for one class to cause this much of a disturbance," Aizawa muttered to himself. "Where do they find the time? They're all like little beacons for destruction..."
     "And yet, you wouldn't trade them for any other group of students," I pointed out, a note of smugness in my voice.
     "Debatable," he sighed. Then, judging by the way his voice became muffled and distorted, Aizawa pulled the receiver from his face and shouted, "BAKUGOU, PUT MIDORIYA DOWN! BAKU— Oh, dear God. (Y/N), I have to—"
     "Yeah," I snickered. "You should probably go defuse Blasty. Try not to get yourself into too much trouble!"
     "I should be telling you that," he grumbled. "Don't forget to eat breakfast. BAKUGOU—"
     The line went dead. I sighed.
     You know me too well... Begrudgingly, I stood from my chair and made my way to the counter. I placed a piece of bread into the toaster and rested back on my elbows. With my eyes closed and the sound of the city coming to life outside, I could almost feel the serenity that I longed for. Birds chirping their morning melodies bled through the typical mundane noises, creating a strange orchestra of car horns and their throaty calls. My head lulled back.
     Against my better judgment, images of last night flooded my mind. Bare skin, hot kisses, uncontrolled need... I hadn't even noticed when my fingers found their way to the bite marks that littered my neck. The pads of my fingertips brushed across the deep red and purple marks, tracing them all the way down to where they dipped beneath my collar— lingering reminders of Hitoshi's face, contorted with determination and lust. I blushed.
     Despite this, my nostalgic euphoria was short-lived for those marks were also a testament to what I could no longer have... Hitoshi wasn't here.
     The toast popped.
     Thinking about it isn't going to do you any good, I chastised myself. You knew this would happen.
Groaning loudly into the empty room, I rubbed my face with my palms. "Fuck this. Why does everything have to be so damn complicated?"
"What's complicated?"
I jumped at the sudden intrusion, slamming my hip harshly into the counter. Hissing at the sharp pain I inflicted upon myself, I pressed my hand against the already forming bruise. When I managed to compose myself and spin around to face the unwelcome visitor, I found myself face to face with none other than my baby sister.
"Saya," I breathed, slumping against the cupboards.
Her dull green eyes stared into my own, a slight pout playing at her small lips. She strode forward with grace, much more elegant than she had ever been in life, spinning and giggling all the while. Saya stopped barely a hair's breadth away from where I stood. This close to her, I could see the light dust of freckles smattering the bridge of her nose. My heart clenched, wanting nothing more than to reach out and touch her star-speckled face, to trace the constellations dancing across her skin. She was already so beautiful, far prettier than I'd ever be—and she would never get the chance to grow into a young woman.
"Why do you look so sad?" Saya inquired quizzically. Her head tilted to the side, the picture of innocence.
Forcing myself to turn away from her, I began to butter my toast. "I'm not, Love. I suppose I just wish that you were really here with me."
"But I am!" Saya protested. "I am really here with you!"
I smiled sadly at the countertop, tears brimming my eyes. My fist tightened around the knife. "No," I choked. "You're not real."
     When my words were met with silence, I assumed that the hallucination had vanished—Saya was gone. Just like everyone else.
     I sighed, sagging heavily against the counter as if the sheer force of gravity was too much for my body to bear. As if all of this was becoming too much for me to bear. I needed sleep. I needed someone to tell me that all of this was going to be okay. I needed—
     A faint pressure rested itself against my elbow. My breath hitched. Tiny fingers wrapped around my arm, squeezing gently and effectively ripping me out of the prison that was my own head. I peered over my shoulder. Saya's small hand had grabbed me—the first physical contact she had made with me since I had begun seeing her. I didn't think it was possible.
     The simple action coaxed a strangled cry from my mouth, but all Saya did was stare up into my face with her wide eyes. Her touch was akin to that of a ghost, but to me it felt like a blow.
"See?" She said. "I told you."
"This isn't—this isn't real."
"You're crazy, you know that?" Saya giggled, wincing directly after as I ripped my arm from her grasp. "But I'm beginning to feel a little crazy myself after all of this."
I stared at her, disbelieving. "What do you mean?"
"Why don't you come with me?" Saya's smile took on a dangerous edge, eyes slanting. "And I'll show you."
Alarm bells were wailing in my head, but I couldn't look away from her cunning face. No child's face should look like that. Not my baby sister's.
"What are you going to show me?"
Saya tsked and shook her head. "I'm not gonna tell you that, Silly! That's the point of me showing you."
Her nose scrunched up, staring at me as if to say 'duh.' Steeling myself, I turned away to walk to my room.
     This isn't real.
     She's not here.
     Saya is dead—
"Don't you want to know about your quirk?"
I froze.
"Ah, I knew you wouldn't be able to resist that!" Saya sang. "My big sister never could control her curiosity, after all."
"What is it that you know about my quirk, Saya?" I whispered hoarsely.
She wagged her finger. "You know the deal: come with me to find out. Or," Saya shrugged and began to skip away, "stay here wallowing in self-pity. The choice is yours."
As she disappeared around the corner leading back to the front entrance, I was already shedding my robe and rushing after her in my pjs. I slid to a halt in front of the half-opened door. If I do this... Who knows what will happen?
Glancing back one last time at the despairingly lonely apartment, I sucked in a breath and dashed out the door.
     "Sorry, Aizawa," I muttered to the vacant halls. "Trouble always seems to find me."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Following Saya around the twists and bends of my small complex was easy. Shimmying through tight spaces between buildings in the crowded part of town with only her tinkling laughter to guide me was another story. I could barley keep up. People stared as I shoved them out of the way and ran headlong into the throng of busy traffic with seemingly no regard to my surroundings. Horns blared, people shouted, but I didn't care. I must have looked like a madwoman.
Saya was leading me all over town, not appearing to have any sense of direction or destination in mind. We were hopping over trash cans, dodging bikes, slipping through the back of local establishments—I only registered our arrival in the red light district when the crowds of people began to thin and pompous businessmen in tuxes made way for men in hoodies with leering gazes.
She was sticking to back alleys now, avoiding the prying eyes of the general population. Only the occasional dealer and prostitute interrupted our journey, and even then they were either too high or busy with other affairs to care about us. Finally, we stopped at the back door of a seedy bar. I stared at the boarded up windows.
"This," I gestured to the crumbling bricks and smashed glass, "is what you wanted to show me?"
"Not the outside," Saya leaned in conspiratorially. "It's what's inside that matters."
"How philosophical," I muttered under my breath.
Creaking open the steel door with no visible effort, Saya waved me forward. I hesitated. What was this place? Where was she taking me? A distinct feeling of dread pooled and settled in my gut.
"Don't be a wuss, (Y/N)," she mocked childishly. "Come on."
Taking a step into the doorway, darkness fell upon us. The door slammed shut with finality. Peering around at my surroundings, I was suddenly hit with the realization of where we were. The long corridors, the musty smell, the distant chortling...
     No way. It can't be—
"Welcome home, big sister!"
My heart dropped to my stomach. This was where the League was hiding, where Hitoshi and I had stumbled out of a portal together, where I had grown up.
     This, I thought darkly, is where I was going to end Saiki's miserable life.
My brows furrowed. Padding barefoot through enemy territory with nothing but a thin tank top and loose shorts to fend off the chill was not how I envisioned my plan coming to fruition. So much for meticulous strategizing and 'good' ideas.
Saya seized my wrist, trying to drag me further into the hideout, but I twisted free and bolted for the door. I shook the handle. Locked.
Giggling manically behind me, Saya's eyes were deranged and glinting in the dim light. She pressed a finger to her lips. "You wouldn't want to disturb anyone, would you?"
"Saya," I demanded, the betrayal leaking from my voice. "What have you done?"
Her eyes darkened instantaneously, becoming nothing but flat, lifeless discs. "My mission is complete. I can rest now."
When her body began to fall forward, I reacted instinctively. My arms shot out and I caught her limp form before she could hit the ground. Pushing Saya's hair from her face, I cradled her to my chest like I used to when she was a baby. None of this was making sense. She was too light. Stiff. Even her skin felt just a bit too cold. What was this mission?
"(Y/N)," the deep, foreboding voice crept into my senses and stilled the breath in my lungs. "I see that Saya has done her duty. Wonderful. At least she's good for something."
My eyes shot up, simultaneously pulling Saya's vulnerable body behind me. "What did you do? ANSWER ME!"
"Now, now," he drawled, dragging a finger down my cheek. I flinched away. A sickening smile began to split the man's face in response to my fear and he leaned in closer. "Is that any way to greet your father?"

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