Angel of Death || Shota Aizawa

Chapter 9

Fast forward to the evening of the same day I got dismissed from recovery girl's office, Yuki got drunk. Rewinding back to how this happened. 

After she drove me to my place and she ordered take out from a local restaurant, she asked as we were eating "Hey F/n, what do you think about drinking?"

I looked at her weirdly and said "Well that was a random question. But... I guess I don't mind drinking a cup or two. Why?" 

She had a mischievous glint in her eye and looked at me as she said "Cause I was thinking we should get wasted tonight." 

I looked at her blankly for a few seconds and said "Seriously? I just got out of the nurse's office."

She responded, "Sooo? You look fine to me. Looks like that old lady truly has an amazing healing quirk." 

Wait. Does she know recovery girl? 

"You know recovery girl?" I asked. 

She looked at you confused and said "Recovery girl? Is that what the students and faculty call her?" 

I nodded my head and she said "Oh. Well I only knew her from a distance. Before you began to work at the hospital, she used to come by our hospital when she was training other people with healing quirks." 

 "Oh. I see." I said. 

We both took the last few bites of our food and she put her hands together and said "Thank you for the food! I'm stuffed!" as she leaned back against the kitchen chair, patting her stomach. 

I also put my hands together and said "Thank you for the food. It was delicious." 

Then I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket, I took my phone out and saw it was an email from Principal Nezu. I opened the email and it had all the paperwork requirements I have to complete before I could work at U.A.

 I should probably tell Yuki that I won't be working with her at the hospital anymore. 

I said "Hey Yuki. I have something important to tell you." 

She looked at me a bit anxiously as she sat straight in her chair and said "Yeah, what is it F/n?" 

I said, "Well, I'm not going to be working at the hospital anymore. Long story short, the principal  of the school took a liking to me and offered me a job. So, I accepted his offer and I'm going to be working as a teacher assistant in U.A high school next year, starting in April." 

She looked at me stunned at first and then said with a smile "Wow F/n, that's great! I mean that's a once in a lifetime opportunity for quirkless people like us. Now, you gave me a reason to celebrate and get wasted tonight!" She abruptly got up and ran towards the door and said "I'll be back with some f/alc (favorite alcohol)!" 

She got up so fast that I didn't even have time to say anything before she left to buy from the local convenience store. 

However, I noticed the facade. She was sad. I know because I put up a facade all the time. My entire identity is a facade. Not because I want to but because I have to. People would never accept the real me, my past, and my trauma. The real y/n. I sighed. 

I won't question her about it. Let's just enjoy this moment before we go our own ways soon. 

I go to my cabinet and grab two f/c color balloons packets that I bought at a store because I thought they were cute, some f/c ribbon, and then took out two wine glasses. 

I took a few balloons from each of the two packets and began to blow air into them, tied the end of it, put the string around the end of the balloon and let it go to the ceiling. I kept repeating this process for a few minutes until there were no more balloons left on the table.