Erase Herゾごホ

前兆パート3 - harbinger pt III

"H-Hello?"

"(Y/n.)"

His voice sounded like a fire in a field of flowers. I could feel my breath hitch in my throat, my eyes widening with a special kind of fear. The fear that makes you furious. A fear that trembles you to your core, when you're so terrified but you're also so fucking angry.

Probably one of the worst kind of feelings in the world.

"I told you to never call me again."

"I know, but there are some things I need to get off my chest." He paused, the sound of him drawing in a deep breath could be heard, drawing the notion out longer as if this was painful for him. "Please?" He almost seemed desperate.

Of course every aching bone in my body wanted to hang up on the guy, my muscles sore with fear and hatred just from hearing his voice, but something was different about him now. Something sounded different. I pursed my lips, debating on what to say, or to say anything at all. It was a bit past 8AM and I had just been woken up by a phone call from the number one hero himself. My father.

"I'm sorry." He said, not giving me anymore time to think. I blinked, shaking my head and slapping my cheek with one hand to make sure I wasn't dreaming. "I'm very proud of you, (y/n)."

He's proud of me? Me? The sham of a Todoroki? The bastard daughter of the Flame Hero, who unjustly claimed the number one spot? After being disgusted by my very existence since birth, he now wants to recognize me as one of his own? Something I've waited to hear since I was a child?

"W-What?" I stuttered, the hot tears rolling down the sides of my face as I stared up at the ceiling of Shota's bedroom, still in bed and entangled with last nights sheets.

"I'd like for us to meet so I can..." He trailed off, searching for the right words and putting us both in an excruciatingly pained silence, "..go over things." I shook my head, using my forearm to wipe the tears as I was brought back to reality.

"No."

"(Y/n), please."

"You think you can make up for years of damage with a simple apology?" I snapped, launching up into a sitting position and punching the mattress below me, "Now, because I made something of myself, now you're sorry? Why? Because you want a hand in my accomplishments, to make you look like a better hero? Why are you sorry now? Why?" I shut my eyes, hugging my own torso with one arm. Why? Why? Why? Why does he come back now? After all this time? Abandoning me for years and only coming back when I take my sorry ass and make something out of it? I clenched my teeth, "Fucking answer me, shitbag!" I cursed, hitting the bed once again. This has to be some kind of sick trick. Some kind of plan he developed to fool me. To gain something out of my sorrows once again. After I feel like I finally have it together, after I finally picked all the pieces of me he shattered and hid over the years, now he wants to be sorry? Not when I needed him most, when I was alone as a child with no one but myself for comfort?

You don't need him.

I don't need him.

You don't need anyone.

I don't need anyone.

The only person you can rely on is yourself.

The only person I can rely on is-. Wait no, that's not right.