|| BNHA/MHA || Bleached Curtains [READER INSERT]

[Prologue]

A young girl sat in the middle of the living room, playing with some action figures that she had just received. She was absolutely thrilled with her new, small replicas of the pro-heroes, All Might and Nighteye. She had been wanting them for the longest time, so when her father finally agreed to get them, she was ecstatic. She didn't want to put them down for a second, not even when she was offered her favorite snack, [f/s].

The [h/c]-haired girl didn't like the action figures because of who or what they represented. That wasn't ever the case with [Y/N]. No one ever understood the things that fascinated her, yet at the same time, they made sense. Her absurd explanations about why certain things interested her were certainly unexpected, but [Y/N] didn't exactly behave 'normally'. She was rather strange from children her age—she was aware of things that kids her age shouldn't be.

A tall and slim woman walked inside the living room. Her expensive heels connected with the freshly waxed floors, clicking with each step she took, resonating in the quiet home. Her strides effortlessly carried her across the room to the ridiculously large mirror that hung from the blindingly white wall. She wore a tight-fitted, red dress that clung to her body, accentuating her curves in all the right places. Stunning jewelry claimed her as she worked a diamond necklace and earrings with golden outlines, multiple silver bracelets that hung loosely on her right wrist, and a golden ankle bracelet. Her [h/c] hair was done beautifully in an updo, perfectly shaping her blemish-free face.

Hearing these familiar footsteps, [Y/N] raised her head. She had stopped playing with her newly bought toys. Her expression went from a pleasant one to one that showed worry, fear even. [Y/N] knew what this meant; she knew what came after her mother would walk down those stairs wearing fancy clothing, and she knew what it meant when her mother would stand in front of the mirror in their living room. It was a routine that she would try to rigorously scrub clean from her memory, hoping that it would ease her pain. Surely this time would be different, right? [Y/N] rid herself of any negative thoughts, putting on a sickening, bubbly persona—a facade.

The dressed-up woman began applying the final touches to her appearance. She added a bright-red lipstick and mascara with ease before taking one final look in the mirror. She took a few steps back, admiring her features. She ran her hands around her body, pressing firmly so that no wrinkles showed. The woman praised herself for doing an amazing job—this was no surprise. She reached for her purse that had been placed on an end table. Rummaging through it to make sure she had everything she needed, she stopped when she felt small hands tug at the bottom of her clothing. She looked down, seeing bright, [e/c] eyes staring at her. They looked at her curiously, anticipating what was going to happen.

"What is it, [Y/N]?" The woman moved her purse to the side, looking directly at the young girl who had a look of bewilderment on her face. [M/N] had a sharp glare that did not falter when seeing her daughter's inquisitive look.

"Mommy, what's going on? Why are you dressed like that," the younger girl asked, though she already knew the answer. Her small hand still clinging to her mother's dress. The woman noticed this and grew slightly irritated, but showed no outward sign of it.

"Mommy has to go somewhere," was all that the [h/c]-haired woman said. Her voice was smooth and soothing. She had activated her quirk momentarily to try and prevent [Y/N] from throwing a tantrum. It would be rather strange if she wasn't able to subdue her. After all, her quirk was called Perfect Melody.

Small tears built up from the corners of [Y/N]'s eyes. "But you always say you have to go somewhere, and you always come back late," her voice quaked as she strained to vocalize her words. Her clutch on her mother's dress tightened as she felt herself on the brink of tears.

The woman's eyes softened the slightest bit before she remembered what her original plans were. "This time it's important. You know this, [Y/N]. Mommy has some business that she needs to take care of," the woman chuckled, knowing that her words held a different, lewder meaning.