Ashes of the Deceived. (Izuku Midoriya x reader.)

Chapter Twenty.

But that's dumb, because who says he's safe if I have it either? I need some sleep— I need to recoup and regroup and rethink everything.

"If I'm not at my house—" Izuku starts, his eyes flickering from me to stare at the overgrown lawn "Call for me, I won't be far."

The idea of him running around Musutafu doesn't thrill me.

I don't know what he's capable of, and my suspicious side whispers that I have just been tricked— But there's nothing I can do about it right now.

"Was this a victory?" Denki asks as we walk down the driveway "I'm not sure." I reply.

It sure as hell doesn't feel like one.

My knife is gone.

Izuku is free.

And the only thing that seems certain in my head and heart is that this isn't over.

I feel sad, like I'm leaking from a thousand wounds.

That jerk took my damn knife.

"That was one cool light show you put on." Jirou compliments Denki with a chuckle.

The blonde grins lopsidedly "Thanks—"

—Time Skip.—

"The knife is gone.

You lost it.

Where is it?"

He's got me by the throat, strangling for answers and slamming me back into my pillow.

"Stupid, stupid, STUPID!"

I wake up swinging, propped upright on my bed with sweat rolling down my forehead.

The room is empty.

Of course it is; Don't be stupid.

Using the same word on myself brings me back to the dream.

I'm only half awake, the memory of his hands on my throat is lingering.

I still can't speak.

There's too much tightness in my chest and my heart is beating a hundred times per second.

Was it my father? The idea is quickly shot down as I shake my head, realizing how stupid I sound and how different their voices are.

It couldn't be him.

It was just another dream, like the rest, and at least I know where this one came from— It doesn't take a genius to know I felt bad about losing the knife.

Kenya jumps onto my lap.

In the scant moonlight through my window, I can barely make out his dark irises.

He's staring at me, his mouth open in a relaxed pant "Hey." I greet.

The sound of my voice in the dark is sharp and too loud— But it sends the dream farther away, it was so vivid.

I can still remember the bitter smell of something like.. Smoke?

Kenya is still silently staring at me before his eyes snap over to the balcony door, his already erect ears seem to straighten more as he stares.

The sound of something moving catches my attention and I reach under my pillow.

"Oh right, no knife." I deadpan but get up anyways to check it out.

I shift the curtain away from the door to see nothing outside and I realize— How could a person even get up to the second story?

I chuckle at my own stupidity and open the door to breathe in the fresh night air.