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chapter 10

❝ 𝐀𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐑𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐭 ❞

↳ Did he really just... leave me on read?

Dumbfound, you continue to stare at the phone screen, which almost results in an overpour of hot tea.

"Oh my god that was close," you mutter. Putting the cup to the side, you begin to make Daisuke's instant coffee.

Truth be told, you don't know how long it would take for this whole fiasco to end. The whole agency is working together, but this is a national emergency we're talking about. So far, only five men have been captured thanks to Kenji's 'All Seeing' quirk and Daisuke's hacker quirk; thirteen more members of this group have been identified to be hiding in Japan. You know it's only a matter of time until you have to use your quirk too.

But in the meantime, you've been decoding possible notes and filing through potential footage of the terrorists' whereabouts. 

"(y/n)," Yoshiro's voice sounds as he walks up to you, "two more suspects have been found. I'll handle one, so please check the other."

You turn around and nod. You knew he was only asking you because the others were out, so you had no choice. It also wasn't like you could complain; the others have been doing much harder jobs than you.

"I should lessen their burden and quickly get a confession."

With this newfound determination, you drop the coffee off at Daisuke's table and grab your eyepatch from your desk. After walking briskly to your designated interrogation room, you take a deep breath and enter the monitor room. 

"Kenji-san!" you exclaim. He's sitting in a chair and staring at the suspect on the other side of the mirror. Without looking at you, he silently acknowledges your presence before speaking.

"I just came back with him. I'll watch over, so go ahead." 

He yawns, and dark eyebags show as evidence of his hard labor.

"Alright, I'll be quick!" you smile, wanting to let him rest as soon as possible. Kenji nods as you walk into the gray room.

"Hey there!" you greet. A man, around in his thirties, looks up at grunts aggressively.

"Listen here girly, let me go, or I'll rip that pretty little face off," he says in a dense countryside accent. He's a Japanese working for the Chinese. Is he mad because he lives in the slums?

Smiling, you sit down from across from him and rest your chin on the back of your hands.

"Was that a compliment? Thanks, but I can't let you go. Instead, why don't we begin the interrogation?"

Smirking, he leans back on his chair and rolls his head threateningly. 

"Do whatever ya want, but you can't get me to fucking talk," he says as he zips his mouth with his hands. 

"Okie dokie. I'm taking that as a 'yes' then."

You take your chin off your hands and lower your eyepatch to your left eye. Soon, you feel your right eye warm up as it glows yellow. You gaze at the man and see a little girl with blood dripping out of her forehead. 

It's oozing out, but she stays silent. No crying, no giggles, no nothing.

"Was she killed by him? I don't want to see this... let's hurry."

"Do you have a daughter?" you ask. He doesn't answer, and he doesn't show any signs of being uncomfortable, so you decide the little girl's identity isn't that.

You sigh, "I guess you really aren't going to talk huh? Well then, I'll just keep chatting."

"Little kids are so cute, right? They're just so tiny, and you can pinch their cheeks, and their hair is so so sooo soft," you continue. "Boys may be okay, but I would rather have a little sister, you know?"

For about five minutes, you proceed to ramble about adorable children. Irritated, the suspect lashes out.

"What the fuck are ya doing? Just get to the damn point!"

"I thought you weren't going to talk?" you smirk. "Well, that's true, I should get to the point."

You take a glance at the motionless girl, who seems to now have tears in her eyes.

"Back to my ideal little sister..." You examine the girl in your view and begin describing her. "She would have beautiful, soft black hair that drapes down to her arms, and she would have short bangs that seem like were cut on accident," you chuckle.

"Her favorite color would be pink, so she would be wearing a cute, pink flower-themed dress and carry her pink stuffed cat with her."

The man's eye twitch doesn't go unnoticed. 

"Oh, I forgot about her face!" you exclaim. "She would have such a cute little nose, and her eyebrows would be thick as if she drew them on with a crayon. Her forehead is kind of big though," you sigh.

"Either way, she's a total angel. It would be such a shame if she were to get hurt-"

"Stop," the suspect exhales. You pause.

"Yes? What is it?"

"Why are you talking about this nonexistent girl in so much detail? You f-fucking creep."

"She's not imaginary. She was alive... at some point," you smile.

"...what?"

"She's dead."

He stares at you in disbelief and begins sweating profusely. 

You proceed.

"Yup, dead. Do you want to know how?"

Of course, you don't wait for his answer and resume right away.

"A bullet. Right in her forehead." You point to yours with a finger gun.

"Blood oozed out, but she didn't cry."

The little girl in your view begins shaking like a bobblehead, and more tears stream down her face. You're close to resurfacing his regret.

Kenji watches as the suspect, too, shutters violently as he stares at his hands.

"Hey," you say. "Have you seen anything like that? A little girl with a bullet in her forehead?"

Taking off your eyepatch, you close your eyes and reopen them. The little girl has reverted back into the ragged man. His hands tremble as he puts them to his ears and shakes his head.

"...no, no. No. I haven't... I haven't seen anything like that."

"Really?" you retort. "Because you're shaking a lot. You okay there?"

"N-no. I- I didn't do anything!" he shouts. He shoots out of his chair, causing it to fall to the floor with a clatter.

You plaster a fake, sullen expression as you start forming tears.

"Hey mister," you sob. "Did you hurt that poor, innocent girl?"

"Y-you're wrong!" he stutters. "I-it wasn't me!"

"She was so innocent. I miss her very much. Her family must have been devastated when they saw the blood seeping out of her forehead," you continue. "It must have hurt her so much..."

"I didn't want to do it... I swear! I was forced to! Please, please forgive me," he cries. Tears and snot start streaming down his face as he remembers the scene of the dead girl. 

You wipe away your fake tears as you watch the man slouch to the ground in agony.

You got him to remember his deepest regret.