Bound by regret | Mha x reader

Chapter 4: Fragile promises

When you wake up again, the first thing you notice is the silence.
It's not the comforting kind, the kind you'd expect in the soft hush of a nursery or in the warmth of your mother's arms. This silence feels haunting and heavy. The kind that hums in the walls and presses down on you until even your breathing feels too loud.

Your eyes flutter open, but the light above blinds you, forcing them shut again. The air tastes sharp, antiseptic, making your mouth sting. For a moment, you let yourself believe you're in a hospital bed, back in your old body, after the attack.

But when you try to sit up, your body betrays you. Limbs twitch, too small and uncoordinated, barely lifting from the stiff sheets. You want to curse to vent your frustration, but your mouth forms only a soft whimper. The sound doesn't even feel like yours.

This isn't your world. Not your body.

You remember warmth—your mother's heartbeat, the weight of another baby beside you, your father's voice trembling with wonder. But that's gone. Now there's nothing but the mechanical hum and the occasional shuffle of feet outside the door.

You are alone.

But the silence doesn't last.

Voices slip through the walls, muffled at first, then clearer as the door opens and two figures step inside. White coats. Clipboards. The smell of latex gloves.

"She is still stable," one of them murmurs, keeping their voice low. "There's been no sign of her quirk manifesting again."

"Manifesting... at birth?" The other shakes his head, scribbling something down. "Impossible. Quirks develop at four, maybe three at the earliest. A newborn showing this kind of reaction? It shouldn't be possible."

"Aren't we supposed to report this kind of thing to the Hero public safety commission?"

"We are, but the situation is complicated due to her parents."

The other doctor nods in silent agreement.

"Let's keep monitoring her for now, until the higher-ups decide what to do. Do not allow contact outside the immediate family."

They turn their backs to you, already moving toward the door. Not even a glance spared in your direction. To them, you're not a child. Not someone's daughter. Just a problem waiting to explode.

When the door clicks shut, the silence returns, heavier than before.

'Hero public safety commission?' the term sounds familiar, you almost have the answer to what you have been questioning this whole time, it's right on the tip of your tongue.

'Hero... Hero Public Safety Commission...' you say it in your mind over and over again, each repeat of it makes your head hurt more but you need to know so you keep going.

Until it finally clicks.

You are in the world of My hero academia.

Your stomach twists. The air feels too thick, the blanket too heavy. The word quirk isn't just familiar—it's a warning. A world of heroes, villains, battles that shake cities, lives lost like background noise. A world you'd once known only as fiction.

And now it's real. Too real.

You think about everything you remember from the anime, all the violence and danger that was in it, that is now waiting for you in the future.

Assuming you are born at a time when it happens, and not a hundred years after the disaster. You need to figure out what generation you are a part of.

But that's for later, you can't get answers the way you are right now, now you are just trying to process it all, trying to stay positive, to convince yourself that you weren't born to be in the middle of it all.

But what if you are?

What if fate decided to drop you right in the thick of it? What if you were born just years before everything begins to crumble, the rise of villains, the fall of heroes, the war that will sweep over everything?

The thought coils in your chest like ice. You remember the anime, the blood, the broken bodies, how cities were destroyed in seconds. It's not just fiction anymore, it's something that will happen if it hasn't already.

And now... you might have a role in it.

You squeeze your eyes shut, as if darkness could shield you from the truth pressing down on you. But it doesn't. The fear lingers, heavy and suffocating.

You think of Haruki. Of the day you died. Of how powerless you were back then.

Some second chance this is. You're smaller now, weaker. You can't even lift your own head, let alone protect anyone. How are you supposed to save anyone in this body? How are you supposed to change anything?

'Maybe this is punishment,' the thought creeps in like poison. 'Maybe I wasn't meant to be saved. Maybe I was just thrown here to suffer again.'

You don't know how long you lie there, trapped in the sterile quiet, your mind running in circles. Long enough that you almost don't notice when the door creaks open again.

This time, it's not doctors.

A figure hesitates in the doorway, shoulders slumped, eyes red-rimmed from exhaustion. Your father.

He steps inside slowly, carefully, as though afraid someone might stop him. When he reaches your crib, he leans over the railing, his face softening the instant he sees you. His hand trembles as it hovers above you before finally brushing a fingertip against your cheek.

"You're awake," he whispers, the sound of his voice calms you, it has been hours since you've heard a friendly voice.

You want to reach for him. Want to tell him you hear him. All you manage is a weak sound, but it's enough. His lips twitch into the faintest smile.

"They're calling you an anomaly," he says, almost to himself, "But you're my daughter. Just... my little girl."

The word sinks into you, heavy and warm all at once. This is supposed to be your family now.

You have mixed feelings about that, but you don't want to open that can of worms right now, instead you just want to enjoy the comfort brought to you by the man staring down at you.

His hand trembles slightly as he brushes your cheek with the back of his finger, careful like you might break under his touch. "No matter what they say, you're not a danger to me. Not to us. You're family."

You let out a small sound, something between a sigh and a whimper, and his face softens further. "See? You understand me, don't you?" He chuckles under his breath, though it's strained. "Strong already, like your mother. Stubborn, too, I bet."

He leans back slightly, as though trying to memorize every line of your face. "Whatever comes next... we'll face it together. That's a promise."

For a moment, you almost let yourself believe it—that his words can shield you from the world outside, from the storm you know is waiting. Almost.

But you really hope that you can keep him out of the mess that the country is destined to become.

You've already failed to protect someone once. You refuse to fail again.

The thought gnaws at you, sharp and restless, until exhaustion drags it under. Your father's warmth is the last thing you feel before sleep pulls you down—warm, steady, and terrifyingly fragile.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

I have just started writing, haven't even posted this on ao3 yet but I have already been hit with the authors curse, I woke up to the worst tooth ache of my life at 5am 😭. Anyways, the hospital chapters will be over soon and I'll do time skips to get out of the baby stage, after that it should be easier to write longer chapters, at least I hope so.