Surprise! It's a KiriBaku x reader.
I didn't say anything so it could be a surprise :)
Happy Halloween!
Enjoy~
It was cold and you were waking up yet again in the middle of the night. You shivered, holding your arms against your body as you sat up. Something in the air felt really different at this particular moment, something murky that made the frigid air sweep the hairs on your arm up. The pads of your toes brushed the floor softly first, the balls of your feet hesitant to set down and make the floor creak. Pajamas fell with the gravity as you fully stood, skin prickling up on your stomach and crawling up to your neck--flowing to tickle at your upper arms.
Something was certainly different.
Clammy hands curled up into fists as you snuck to the door, the gentle clatter and chatter from the last call 2 floors down. Light filtered up from the first floor of your narrow house, your parents cleaning up the bar they owned down the 2 flights of stairs. You had assumed something nasty had been crawling around in the darkness, but that was just you. A solid cylinder slithered up your back and around your arm to run its head under your hand. Your familiar snake had made his presence known, having slipped from one of the several stitches in your skin.
"Not now," you murmured, watching the snake respect your command as he slithered back where he came from. Your parents were unusually proud of you for making your first choice of 'creepy crawly' a snake, though you kept a particularly close relationship with a butterfly you were keen on producing. From your father, you had received a nasty quirk much like the humans of the past had dreamt up. He was a stout man with a hefty voice, and he had a lack of control in the way he moved even though he got a lot of things done. He was harsh and lacked a sense of understanding. He, much like the boogie man, had been born with what people used to assume was impossible, only a thing of nightmares. He was just...full of as many disgusting critters you could imagine.
You were too.
Your mother was the opposite, very uptight and spindly. She had found your father quite appealing, her own personal abilities much like that of a spider. Growing up, you had hoped to turn out more like her--which was unfortunately not the case. Despite how mean she was and how little she seemed to care about you...you still felt the need to emulate her. She at least had a little bit of a chance at a more interesting and better life. Yet she still chose to be with your father and a child she didn't want, cleaning up in a bar every night. You thought, perhaps, if you had her ability, that you would be a little more appealing or could live out the life she had chosen to reject.
You could hear classes clinking below as the chatter regressed--more and more villains making their way out of here. You slunk down to the kitchen, leaning up against the counter. You just glanced over your shoulder, ignoring as a pair of lizards sloppily filled up a glass of water for you. The glass was set on the table and you grasped the lizards, placing them on your shoulder to find a place to slink back into your body.
"What a successful night! I always liked October, seems to drive in more business," your father stated, trompling into the main living space. Your mother followed with a dull look on her face.
"I suppose," she replied, her eyes flickering to look at you. "Darling, must you always be up so late?" she asked, strutting her way over to you.
"I was sleeping."
"Clearly," your mother replied, running a hand to smooth out the pieces of hair that were out of place.
"I don't sleep like a dead person, like you do," you jut, causing your mother to look at you with sharp eyes.
"If you didn't have my quirk, I'd think you were adopted," your father joked. You just looked at him with great dismay. He liked to joke, as if he were in any position to appear friendly with you. Your mother finished up settling the murky evergreen locks on your head. You disliked how cozy things appeared to be sometimes, especially when you would waitress. Familiars would mention something about the classic trio you and your family were.
"Off to bed, don't cut those nightmares short."
You just sighed, gripping the glass of water as you made your way back upstairs. Your feet left creaking noises directly behind them with each step as you set the drink down.
You had an extensive collection of Halloween movies. Your parents thought it was rather offensive to their kind of villain, but you liked watching the irony of your situation. Most of the time, it seemed, that some of the classic and childish movies left you as the villains. The fact you had to live that narrative didn't seem all that fair.
You didn't like that your parents were such active villains. They would include you in their crusades, but most of the time you lingered behind. It just didn't fit who you were, despite the obvious setbacks you had been stuck with for your whole life. You had never asked to be born, to fit such a cliche life. It seemed like it would never end. One of the older films, Nightmare Before Christmas was interesting to you. You had watched it several times in order to translate it over, seeing what a horrifying image they had painted of Oogie Boogie.
That was just who you were unfortunately, a sort of slap in the face from the past's imaginations. It was how it was. You were stuck up here in your room most of the time, picking at stitches and absentmindedly listening to your mother's school lessons. He was stuck in that weird basement thing. You sat on your mattress for a moment, thinking about it.
The main different between you and Oogie Boogie was that you were just human still. He was built...like a burlap sack. You had to gain stitches on your own. In your lessons, either your mother or father would slash a new spot to produce your abilities, stitching them so you could be more powerful. At first, you didn't understand and dreaded those days.
It just hurt.
You laid back, pulling a scratchy wool blanket over you so that you wouldn't be cold anymore. It didn't seem to help all that much.
You woke up for the second time that night by a crash from downstairs. This was unusual--waking up twice in one night. It confirmed that something was different. You quickly sat up, making your way to the stairs again. Your eyes drifted down, peeking into the room. There were brightly colored heroes, the kinds you caught on bits and pieces of the news. Your father was gone and your mother was subdued, hands in cuffs.
Your stomach dropped.
You quickly head back upstairs, heading for your window. Heavy books clumped up the stairs as you undid the latch, letting out as many spiders as you could. You watched as they formed a slide down from your window. You heard voices, knowing they would be less than understanding. You slid down, letting the spiders fall with you and return back to your body during your escape. Feet hit the ground and you watched as lights flickered from your bedroom and out the window. You made a break for the gate separating the alley way. You leapt up, climbing over with ease. Feet hit the ground again and suddenly you were stopped in your tracks.
The alley was illuminated by one of the largest men you had ever seen, shoulders and face lit up with flames. Your head tilted to look up at him, several spiders scuttled away at the threat of heat. The man looked down at you, arms crossed.
"A girl," he stated.
You could only assume someone had heard him.
"She's got his quirk."
~~~
People bustled around you and you kept your eyebrows furrowed. Your hands hung heavy in front of you--a metal box encapsulating your hands. You were incapable of producing even some of your easiest creatures so your eyes just glared at the ground.
"(y/n), (l/n). Female. 15. Green hair and eyes. Daughter of--" you just drowned him out as he spoke, relaying this information to whoever. You didn't know how he had even learned these things. The lights in here were bright and clinical, which made your stomach kind of sick. You didn't even bother asking where your parents were, assuming they were in jail.
Or dead.
It didn't really matter anyways.
It appeared to be nearing an hour. You ran your teeth over your bottom lip. People continuously moved around you for the longest time, until they all stopped.
"I'm fine," a figure stated, as he sat in front of you. He had shaggy black hair, an even more tired look in his face than you had. He stared at you for a long time, sunken scar under his right eye and pupils shot. It was ridiculously quiet here, your stomach threatening to growl and break the silence. His hands shuffled around each other, rough skin creating a sound of friction. You could only look back at him with a look of great indignation. "(l/n)."
You were confused if he wanted you to confirm that (l/n) was indeed your last name.
"(y/n)?"
"What?"
"You go by your first name then?"
"Whatever," you stated. That was what was on your uniform name tag, whenever you were working. Of course, it appeared that you had been forcibly let go when the bar had been shut down.
"Are you hungry?" he asked.
"No."
That was a lie.
"You sure then?" he asked, leaning back in his chair.
"This a last meal request?" you questioned. He eyed you for a moment before getting up. He placed a bowl of rice and water in front of you. You didn't know what was on top of it. You stared at it for a moment before back at the man. "I can't eat this."
"Why not?"
"I can't use my hands," you replied, lugging up the heavy metal box. In many situations, anyone would be reluctant to speak, but you were nearing the end of your rope here. Why drag out what they wanted to do with you? In a way, you were expecting this to happen sometime.
"Right," he stated.
You watched as he took a pair of keys off the table, kneeling down in front of you. He unlocked the box and you felt the cool air on your sweaty hands. For a moment you sat there, not moving your hands. He didn't seem to have any issue with you being fully capable. You considered it for a moment, but just took the bowl of rice. If they intended to poison you, that was fine. It was weird to choose this way, when they could just kill you instead. You placed rice in your mouth, silently remarking that it was strange for this man to be watching you eat.
"So then (y/n), I find it rather interesting why you haven't asked about your parents yet," the man stated.
"Why do you get to know my name and I don't know yours," you pointed out. The rice wasn't poisonous, you decided.
"It's Shouta Aizawa."
"Where's that fire guy?" you asked, looking around.
"He's busy," Aizawa stated. "(y/n), you still haven't asked about your parents."
"I don't really care," you replied. That was a loaded statement, as you were kind of curious. While your parents had been terrible people to you, forced you into many things and positions you had not wanted, they were still your parents. Maybe that was a false sense of 'family' but it was still prominent in this moment.
"Your parents were put into custody, your father passed as soon as we placed him," Aizawa stated. You stopped eating for a moment, glancing up at the man. Your dad had just croaked? How...embarrassing. In this moment, you were really trying not to let the fact sink in. He was not good to you, but he was your namesake. What exactly were you supposed to feel?
"Why are you telling me this? Do you want me to tell you what they did or something?"
"No."
"Then why?"
"You deserve to know what happened to your parents, don't you think?" he asked. You just turned back to the rice. He clearly had some kind of proposition for you, you just wanted him to spit it out already. Or maybe he and all the other creeps around this place were just looking for a reaction out of you. You were struggling to understand why you of all people were here. Why you were put in this position. Why you hadn't gotten a well deserved apology from the person who led you to here.
"They were villains and terrible parents, just what you would expect. I've done a lot of bad stuff for them and I have the proof to show for it," you stated, looking up at Aizawa who was studying you carefully. "Wherever you're going to put me, just do it."
"You do a lot for your parents?"
"Yes."
"Like what?"
"You probably have records..."
"No, I'd like to hear it from you," Aizawa said, gesturing to you. You gripped the bowl of rice.
"I go with them to shake down civilians, waitress for the villains at the bar, stuff like that," You explained and Aizawa nodded.
"Did you ever help them with All for One?" Aizawa asked. Your eyebrows furrowed, knowing exactly who that was. You had no idea that your parents had ever talked to him, let alone help him. Help him with what? Aizawa studied your face for a moment. "You had no idea."
"He's never come into the bar."
"Not really the type of guy to," Aizawa explained and you eyed him. The rice was kind of getting cold, but you weren't planning on eating anymore. You just set the bowl aside, mouth twitching into a frown. "You don't like to go along with their plans most of the time, that's why they didn't tell you right?"
"Whatever."
"(y/n)."
You looked to Aizawa, his eyed focused in on you. You were getting frustrated and you were questioning why the hell he kept at this whole interrogation when you weren't restrained anymore. Wasn't he afraid that you would try and attack him.
"No, they don't tell me shit," you spat. "Because I think its idiotic."
"You think it's wrong?"
"There's no right and wrong," you refuted. "Everything's just a morally grey area. You think it was righteous to take my parents away from me and keep me here when I'm just 15? I haven't hurt anybody, I'd rather just die out on the street or have you kill me right now than do this."
Aizawa just looked at you.
"You know," Aizawa stated, "A lot of the time, heroes tend to have this false sense of justice. I try really hard to teach my students to help others rather than try to be a self-appointed judge."
You were quiet. It became obvious to you that you had gotten frustrated, but kept all your creatures in line. You hadn't let yourself slip and it was obvious that Aizawa had noticed this.
"You seem to have a good concept of this morally grey area don't you?" he asked. You didn't nod or anything, but he could tell you agreed. "(y/n), I'm sorry about your parents and for placing you in this position, but I want to extend a hand to you. I think it's better than 'dying in the street'."
He seemed sarcastic, almost joking with you.
"I want to offer you a place in a new program we're implementing," he stated, standing up. "Essentially, it's for kids like you that are born into homes they feel like they don't belong in. People with villainous parents that don't allow for you to choose to help."
Why did he think that? That you wanted to help?
He knelt down again in front of you and you watched him, hands clasped tightly in your lap. Aizawa's eyes bore into you for a moment before he continued his proposition.
"I want to set you up for a better future that you get to choose. Would you like to attend a set of classes of mine as a program student?"
You looked at him for a moment, not really knowing what to say.
"You can think about it," Aizawa stated as he stood up from my level. Aizawa placed a warm hand on the top of your head and you felt your skin prickle up again, eyes wide and glossy. He let go and you could feel your eyes begin to water at the loss of that foreign feeling, which was very unlike you.
"Why--didn't you go to the bar earlier when there were more villains?" you asked, completely off topic. Aizawa glanced in your direction, pausing for a moment as he was leaving.
"Can't bite off more than you can chew," he stated simply.
And yet he could handle you?
"I'll be back soon," he stated, letting himself out of the room. You sat for a moment, feeling your skin crawl as it normally did.
Now...you had a choice to make.
Soon, I would meet them.
~Caly