bnha oneshots (vol 1)

020 ⋆ siren's lullaby 🌸🖤

ship: todokiri

other: my first commission, given to me by @KACCHANSUG0I on twitter

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Late-night grocery runs were the least favorite part of Shouto's day.

He had just gotten off from an evening shift that ran him late into the night, and with train delays and other convenient inconveniences, he finds himself stopped in a mini-mart not too far from his apartment to round up some snacks for him and his peculiar roommate.

Not that Shouto himself was any different.

It's not his first time stumbling into this rundown mini-mart and certainly won't be his last either; he's lived in this particular district of the city for longer than this building has stood on its shoddy foundation. Stale air greets him once he enters through its creaky sliding doors, and Shouto makes his way over to the same aisle he's walked down at least a hundred times by now. He skips gallons of milk, eggs, and butter for the corner of the store not many would dare to venture to besides himself. He pads through sticky flooring, put off by the mess, but ultimately shelves the passing thought and scans through the selection of plasma packs chilling in the fridge. It's times like this when he's stuck deciding between which blood type to settle for that Shouto loathes his dark, immortal life the most.

Oh, the things he would do to eat like a normal human being; to satiate himself with meats cooked well, vegetables steamed, yet it's here in this dimly lit corner of the mini-mart that he's reminded of his vampiric status; of his insatiable thirst for blood and rightful fear of sunlight, forever bound to the nightlife lest he decides to submit to the sun and let its rays eat away at his flesh 'til he's nothing but a pile of smoking ashes. But yearning for death felt selfish in its own right when he had someone that depended on him, who gave purpose to his miserable existence whom he, ironically, depends on for that, too.

The white noise in his head subsides as he opens the door to the fridge and drops a mixed couple of packs into his basket.

His evening quest brings him to the canned goods aisle next, and Shouto lets an exasperated sigh slip through his lips as he looks over the brand choices of salmon stacked before him. His grip tightens around the handle of his shopping basket whilst a fang tugs at the corner of his mouth. His faze falls to a premium brand—a royal blue can with the mortals' version of a mermaid perched atop its logo. He chuffs. The irony. He then eyes the red can beside it; a lesser, Pink Alaskan type, and much cheaper.

"Buying food for your cat?" a voice says off to his side. He glances left to see a woman inches shorter than he looking up at him. He didn't care to memorize the details of her face, as he did with most mortals, though the lithe to her tone and rosiness of her cheeks made quite the impression.

If only he could tell her his "cat" is a siren.

"You could say that," Shouto murmurs, tossing either can into his basket in hopes of obscuring the plasmas packs stacked across its bottom. Her gaze falls and rises just as quick, the noticeable falter in her grin hastily replaced with a forced curve of her lips. Color drains from her face until she's a ghostly white, and she swallows hard.

"You'll be better off getting just that one—" She motions the red cans, voice hurried. Shouto nods. He then glances down at either end of the aisle before taking a bountiful step towards the woman. She shrinks as his shadow swallows her whole, her breath tickling the bow of his lip as the piercing glow of his eyes reflects in hers. He exhales as she inhales and immediately her pupils dilate to the point the color of her irises thinly encase black opals.