Chapter Twenty: Dye

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"No amount of makeup will ever cover this up," I said, turning my face in the mirror.

"Stop it," Mina said, turning my face back to where she could see it. "I'm experimenting.

"The last three experiments haven't worked. I can't afford to use half a bottle of concealer every day."

"Let me work."

I did, and we sat in silence for quite a while. Mina was a master of the makeup brush, although the burned tissue that ran up from my right wrist up to my cheekbone was a challenge even for her.

The burns, while they had saved me from decaying completely, had been extremely severe. For four of my five days in the hospital, my arm, neck, and cheek had been covered in bandages, and my shoulder and arm were sedated to prevent them from moving. The hole in my side hadn't been much worse, though. Denki's electricity had sealed the wound well, and only a few stitches had been needed.

"When are you going to see him?" Mina asked.

"When I don't feel like I need to hide half of my face." I lapsed back into silence, crossing my arms and staring at the wall.

"What if we tried a mask?" Mina asked suddenly.

"A mask?" I said skeptically.

"Trust me." She dug through one of my drawers and found the black fabric mask I had used at my job. Before she placed it on my face, however, she swiped mascara on my eyelashes and dusted powder on my lids.

"It's not ideal for official things, but it's pretty good," I said, inspecting the right side of my face. The burn was almost completely covered. "Can you dye my hair pink?"

Mina started. "That's a little sudden."

"I hate the blue and I'm feeling impulsive." And the last thing I need is to look like that villain version of me.

She nodded. "Let me see if I can get a group together. We'll be back in an hour or two."

Mina was barely gone before I texted Denki "Where are you?"

"In my room" he texted back almost immediately.

I walked across the hall to Denki's room and knocked once on the door. It took a few seconds, but the door opened to reveal a messy-haired Denki, who broke into a grin when he saw me.

"I don't know why I wasn't allowed to visit," he said, letting me walk in and closing the door behind me.

"I just..." I had to move some notebooks and scattered papers to the side to find room to sit on his bed. "I just didn't want you to have to see me with my face the way it is."

"What does that mean?"

I shrugged defensively. "I don't like having a messed up face."

"It doesn't mess up your face," he said. "Plus it'll make you super popular with the heroes. Battle scar, right?"

"You haven't even seen it."

"Then let me."

I tentatively unlooped my mask from my ears, half-shielding my face in shadow.

Denki squinted at my face. "Nope. Still beautiful."

"That makes one of us who thinks so," I said, crumpling the mask in my fist and staring intently at the ground.

"Look at me?" he said.

"Hm?" I had barely looked away from the floor when he kissed me. It was gentle, but there was enough emotion behind it that I couldn't--wouldn't--pull away.

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