Thank you so much to Quail for the beautiful banner art of Izumina! I hate how long it took me to update but I'm so happy to finally show off this beautiful drawing. Check out their Wattpad @birdfuckery where they feature this art again in their work: 'Fanart ig..'
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"Why are you crying, Maman?" Izumina asked as she knelt on the ground. She spoke in French, trying to reassure her mother that she was indeed picking up the language of their new home; despite her peers' less-than-accepting nature. She couldn't have been older than five.
The scene was sombre, yet all too common in the Yūsha household. Miyuna– so often seen as a quiet yet kind woman to the outside world– was a mess of tears on the living room couch. Her eyes were glazed over as if she were miles away. Perhaps it was her childhood home or the pitiful state she was in... but to any bystander, Miyuna looked like a child. Broken, naive, and in desperate need of comfort.
Izumina didn't know what to do. She didn't fully understand what was happening, why her mother came home every day, cooked dinner, and made conversation as if everything was all right, before breaking down in the silence of the night. Izumina rubbed soothing circles on her mother's knees, tilting her head as she looked up, trying to get a better view of her mother's face.
Miyuna said nothing as her tears began to slow. Her hands covered her face. Her hair was a mess from the day's tribulations.
"Do you miss father?"
Miyuna's expression was cold, her face neutral as she stared forward blankly. "Sometimes," she confessed. "But none of that matters... not anymore."
"Why?" Izumina asked, trying to meet her mother's eyes.
The room was silent for a long time before Miyuna spoke again. Her voice was strained, practically a whisper. The words came as if involuntarily, from somewhere deep in her conscience. Izumina had no idea if her mother even meant to utter her next words aloud.
"He's a monster... and it's all because of me."
...
Izumina eyed Nakiro and the phone in his hand slowly, unable to read his expression. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means," Nakiro spoke, lowering his arm. "You're strong Izumi, strong enough for the league to consider you a threat."
Her teeth grit as she bit the inside of her cheek, trying to retain some semblance of composure. Izumina realized suddenly that her plan had been doomed to fail from the very beginning. He'd had her phone and repressed her quirks. He had all the power, while she was sitting ducks.
She was powerless.
"What?" she stuttered, her voice catching in her throat.
"I've been ordered to keep you in those cuffs, but I'm not a monster." Nakiro walked towards her before crouching and gently handing her the phone. "I want you to know I'm on your side."
Izumina's eyes fell to her phone. Sleek, shiny, and ever so enticing. She didn't move.
"Take it," Nakiro urged, placing it in her hands. He didn't have to ask twice.
Izumina accepted the phone hesitantly, a feeling of unease settling in the pit of her stomach.
"Are you displeased?" Nakiro asked with a smirk. "I thought you'd be thrilled to have it back."
Something changed in Izumina's demeanour as she nodded slowly. Something akin to muscle memory siphoned her voice, her words. She stayed silent. Perhaps it's all she knew to do. All she'd ever known how to do.
Nakiro smiled, feeling a sense of pride well in his chest at his actions. "You may check your messages if you'd like."
Izumina nodded. There was nothing to be gained by refusing. She tapped the screen, revealing a mess of messages and missed call notifications, the majority of which were from her best friend.
Midoriya Izuku 🥦
14 missed calls
Hey, I just came by to check on you and your dad said you were asleep. Hope you're doing alright.
Are you still sleeping?
Izumi!!!
Want to come by my place and watch some old hero movies?
My mom's making udon, your favourite :)
Hello?
You have to be awake by now.
Sorry for the spam... I'm just really worried about you.
Are you doing okay?
Call me back when you can.
You know you can always talk to me, right?
Izumina tried to steady her breathing as she read through the messages. Midoriya had been there? At her home? Talking to her father? The thought made her shiver as she read through the rest of the messages.
Ashido Mina💗
Hey gurlieee, im thinkin of getting the gals together for a hang at some point over the week off u free sat???
Uraraka Ochaco🪐
Are you coming on Saturday? Hagakure recommended this cute little cafe! Hope to see you there <3
Like hell she'd be able to go out, she thought to herself.
Bakugou Katsuki 💥
1 missed call
Oi Aho! The nerd said you've been passed out for days. Wake tf up you lazy ass
Jesus Christ woman how long can you fuckin sleep?!
Ignore the call! It was a misclick
Call that loser back already so he'll get off my fuckin back!
Wake up or I'll burn your house down!!
Izumina's stoic expression melted ever so slightly as she exhaled. That boy, always so quick to violence. At least those two were getting along somewhat. Her chest panged with guilt suddenly, as she realized how much danger the two of them had unconsciously put themselves in by coming to her house and spamming her with messages.
🔥Todoroki Shoto❄️
hello.
Time froze for a moment as Izumina's heart skipped a beat. Out of all the people in her class, Shoto was probably the last person she'd expected to reach out to her. There was something endearing about the way he texted; so formal, to the point. It was oddly fitting; exclusively lowercase lettering and proper grammar. Izumina could almost hear the monotonic sound of his soft voice through that one word...
"You're quite popular," Nakiro spoke, snapping Izumina out of her thoughts. She glanced up at him with a blank expression. "They worried about you?"
Izumina nodded slowly, unsure of what to say. Her throat felt hoarse, and she wondered for a moment if she was even capable of talking. The concept felt impossible.
Nakiro eyed her cautiously, that fake paternalistic grin of his never leaving his face. "What will you tell them?"
Her eyes widened slightly before emptying of colour and light; until they were completely dull. Izumina turned off the phone, its lumination dying as she flipped its screen downwards. Her lips formed a thin line as if to show retaliation despite her obedience.
"Excellent," Nakiro spoke, his voice like unrefined maple syrup; sickeningly sweet. "I knew you'd come to see reason."
Izumina forced a nod, her features glazing over as if she were in a trance. She felt hopeless, sick to her stomach. Nothing felt real.
"Come," Nakiro ordered, extending a hand. "Let's have dinner. I made curry."
Without accepting– let alone acknowledging– his hand, Izumina stood.
Dinner passed in painful silence. Izumina's posture was rigid as she shovelled food into her mouth without complaint. The handcuffs were annoying but she bit her tongue, knowing sustenance would help to speed up her recovery. At that point, she wouldn't have minded if the food were poisoned. It was better than living off of IV fluids, as she'd been doing the past few days.
As she swallowed a mouthful, she couldn't help but feel forlorn. Anything would've been better than the crushing hand reality had dealt her.
Her father made small talk, but she hardly paid him any attention. He babbled on about the weather, and a book he'd been reading; trivial topics Izumina couldn't bring herself to care about.
If her father had noticed her lack of enthusiasm he certainly didn't show it. He transitioned between subjects fluidly, hardly leaving room for Izumina to reciprocate.
Good.
She preferred it that way. The familiarity of the exchange offered her some semblance of normalcy amidst the whirlwind of chaos.
Nakiro began to talk about work, which piqued Izumina's interest ever so slightly. Now that she knew he wasn't a scientist like she'd once thought; Instead of a lab researcher he experimented on humans. Just what every child wanted to hear, she thought to herself, imagining a toddler at parent day beaming: 'My daddy's a psychopath!'
"Quirk transplants take so much preparation," he spoke in passing as he removed his glasses. "First. you need to ensure that the recipient's body is a proper vessel." He lowered his glasses and began to clean the lenses with his shirt. "Then, you need to find a donor or rather, concentrated quirk genes. I tend to get those as a serum from the Doctor."
Izumina nodded hollowly as her father placed his glasses back on his face. She tried to concentrate as he elaborated on the whole process of quirk transplantation. But, if she was being honest with herself, most of what he said went right over her head. She could hardly understand it.
The chain links of the cuffs got in Izumina's curry, causing her to exhale sharply and shoot her father a stone-faced glance. Nakiro chuckled heartily before reaching over with a napkin to wipe the food off. How he acted reminded her of a doting parent, wiping food off a child's face. The thought made her sick, as though this exchange were some diluted depiction of that kind of parental care.
"You know," Nakiro spoke affectionately before chuckling to himself. "Now forgive me if this seems random, but your name originally wasn't supposed to be Izumina." He smiles to himself as if remembering a fond memory. "Your mother was always a stronger French than Japanese speaker. So, when I suggested the name Izumi and used the word 'na (な)' to make it a question. 'How about Izumi?' She misunderstood and thought I'd said Izumina."
Izumina's expression remained neutral as her father seemingly got lost down memory lane.
"Your mother was so beautiful, I didn't have the heart to tell her she'd misunderstood what I said."
Nodding slowly, Izumina finished her food.
Nakiro leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes contently. "She was a transfer student. We'd both interned as lab technicians at Shizuoka Prefecture's finest quirk facility." He opens his eyes and glances at Izumina, but he doesn't seem to actually see her. "I knew the moment I laid eyes on her that she was the love of my life."
Izumina said nothing as her eyes glazed over. She sat, staring blankly at the table in front of her as Nakiro spoke.
"Miyuna was the smartest woman I'd ever met. So intelligent," he trailed off. "I wish she were here now."
Izumina wished so too as she nodded her head in agreement. It was all she could bring herself to do.
Nakiro turned to his daughter and smiled. "Well then, let me take care of that for you." He cleared away her plate, standing up and taking it over to the counter to wash.
The water from the faucet thumped against the metal sink rhythmically as Izumina zoned out. The sound of its flow was the only thing tethering her to reality. She felt a hundred miles away. No, that wasn't quite right. She felt like she was standing in an open field in the middle of the night. Unnervingly vulnerable, and painfully aware of any sounds that pierced through the darkness.
"If you don't mind I'd like to check your vitals," Nakiro asked, giving Izumina an illusion of choice in the matter.
She didn't respond; gave no verbal or physical indicator that she'd heard him. She didn't feel real. Nothing did.
"We can do it here if you'd like?" Nakiro tilted his head in her direction as he placed the dishes on a drying rack. "Hm?"
Izumina shrugged, her movement lethargic and without rationality. She hardly registered the motion at all as she stared off into space.
Nakiro smiled as he left the room, returning a moment later with a small bag. "Hold your arm out."
Izumina obeyed.
Pulling a sphygmomanometer– which Izumina recognized as 'the thingy that measures blood pressure' from the doctor's office and pharmacies– out of the bag, Nakiro took Izumina's arm. He fastened the pressure cuff to her bicep and squeezed the inflation bulb.
Izumina's face remained neutral as she felt the pressure build against her arm. She sucked in a breath as the cuff released its hold and Nakiro glanced at the number on the manometer.
"Very good," he said, removing the pressure cuff from her arm. "Thank you for being so cooperative."
Izumina couldn't meet his eyes as she bowed her head, her bangs shading her face.
Nakiro placed a hand on her forehead, feeling her temperature before moving his fingers along the back of her neck. She froze under his touch, her body stiffening. He removed his hands.
"Do you feel alright? No discomfort or nausea?"
Izumina hadn't the faintest clue what he was on about but shook her head 'no' regardless. She didn't want to ask, or rather, she couldn't bring herself to ask.
"That's good to hear." Nakiro closed his eyes as he smiled at her. "What shall we do now then?"
Izumina blinked as her gaze fell to her handcuffs, the very thing that nullified her quirks.
"Sorry, not yet," Nakiro sighed, seemingly genuine. "Why don't we watch a movie? Like when you were a kid? Do you still like Disney? Or perhaps Ghibli is more your speed?"
Izumina didn't meet his eyes. Her chest felt tight as she sat, silently. Wishing she could just disappear.
"Maybe Finding Nemo? You always used to like that one."
With sweaty palms, Izumina slowly nodded her head.
Nakiro beamed. "Attagirl! Come then, let's watch it together. It's been so long since we've had any father-daughter time."
Izumina stood and followed him to the living room. Her chest felt tight. No matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't seem to get enough air into her lungs. It was suffocating.
Nakiro gestured for her to sit on the couch– which she did– as he set up the movie. They watched, in painful silence. Izumina hardly registered the film, her mind everywhere and nowhere all at once. She began questioning everything:
'Am I a villain?'
'Am I a monster?'
'Am I even human still?'
The movie ended, snapping Izumina out of her thoughts as the credits rolled. She glanced over at her father who was wiping tears from his eyes.
"I'd forgotten how touching this movie is. A father crossing the ocean for his child." He turned to Izumina. "Sorry, I suppose I'm being a big sap aren't I?" He placed a hand on Izumina's leg. She glanced down at it flatly, too numb to protest. "I hope you know, everything I do, I do for you."
Izumina didn't move. Didn't even react. She'd completely dissociated.
Nakiro placed a hand on her shoulder, causing her eyes to flutter slightly before she flinched back to reality. "Now then, it's late. Why don't we go to bed now?"
Hesitating, Izumina nodded slowly, her eyes glazing over as she stood from the couch. She tried to think, tried to formulate a plan, but everything felt hazy. She felt like she was nine years old again. Her hands felt moist and sticky. She glanced down at them and sucked in a sharp breath as her palms flashed red for a fraction of a second. She shook her head.
"Coming Princess?" Nakiro smiled as he held out a hand for her. Despite her better judgment, she obliged and took it, allowing him to lead her up the stairs.
As she entered her room she placed her phone on the bedside table, a force of habit, and yet, a calculated action. She didn't want to discard it fully.
"Now I'm really not supposed to do this," Nakiro sighed as he rubbed the back of his neck. He leaned against the door frame of Izumina's room as she shakily sat on the edge of her bed, trying to steady her rapid heartbeat.
She hardly heard him, feeling claustrophobic in the room that had once felt like home.
Nakiro sighed once more as he raised a hand. The distinct outline of a circle shimmered into existence in front of him. He reached forward, his hand disappearing for a moment as he rummaged around his transport pocket. Izumina flinched slightly as he withdrew his hand and stepped towards her.
"Give me your hands," he ordered.
She hesitated, her body frozen.
Nakiro smiled. Izumina could hardly meet his gaze as he seized her forearm– gently, but it didn't seem so to her– and inserted a key into her cuffs. She lifted her hands weakly, presenting her shackled writs more willingly.
She held her breath as the cuffs clicked and clattered to the floor. Izumina looked up, her expression was bewildered. As though she were unsure if what'd just happened was real.
"It'll be a while before your quirks come back... but after the past few days I can't bear to keep you locked up any longer." Nakiro's voice was soft as he caresses her face.
Izumina was too stunned to speak. Her throat felt dry as she nodded her head gratefully. Without thinking she hugged her father, burying her face in his chest.
Nakiro inhaled sharply, his surprise evident before his expression melted into one of contentment. "I'm sorry for putting you through all that. I promise it's over now."
Izumina trembled slightly as she gripped the fabric at the back of his shirt. If only that were true. She knew in her heart, now that the truth was out, that she'd never be able to go back to the life she'd once known. No matter how much she longed for ignorance, to be oblivious, she couldn't erase what she'd learned about her father. What she'd learned about herself...
"What do you say?" Nakiro's voice was sweet as he placed his hand on her head and stroked her hair gently.
"Thank you," she stammered, her voice cracking as she held him.
Nakiro's smile widened. "You're very welcome, Princess."
Izumina felt her chest tighten. Her hands shook as Nakiro pulled away.
"Sleep now. Can I trust you to do that?"
She nodded aggressively, her lip quivering slightly as she lay down.
"Good. You need your rest"
Izumina got under the covers, pulling them over her shoulders before turning to her father. Nakiro perched on the edge of her bed and watched her. "You didn't think I was going to leave did you?"
Izumina tried to keep her expression neutral as she gulped. Her hands felt clammy and her body trembled. She'd only felt like this on rare occasions, whenever she thought of her mother or Fleur... The anxiety built in her chest as she forced her eyes closed, whispering a silent prayer in her head.
She'd never been religious. Still wasn't. That didn't seem to matter to her now. Even if she knew no one was listening, she hoped against reason that this nightmare would be over soon.
Nakiro lowered his voice so that it was hardly more than a whisper. "I'll stay with you 'till you fall asleep." His tone was soft, genuine. It was unbearable.
Izumina took a breath and, despite everything in her body, she tried to fall asleep. She forced her breathing to slow, trying to match her father's as he sat beside her. Slower, shallower. More convincingly...
She waited. Counting the seconds in her head. Seconds. Minutes. Hours.
A few times she caught herself slipping, and with a twitch of the eye, she forced her consciousness. How long had it been? She wondered as she sensed her father, still in the room.
Every once in a while Nakiro would yawn and move his arm, perhaps to check his watch. Izumina, her eyes remaining closed, could feel his focus leave her. Nakiro looked around the room, closing his eyes now and again. Whether out of boredom or fatigue, was impossible to know.
As the pm shifted into the am Izumina continued breathing. She sang songs in her mind, counted time, recited hero trivia facts, anything to stay awake and aware.
Finally, after what Izumina could only assume had been hours, Nakiro stood. She felt more than she saw him lean over her. She kept her expression neutral as he did so, fighting back the urge to hold her breath.
"Goodnight, Princess," he whispered.
Satisfied, Nakiro crept from the room– not wanting to wake his daughter– and out the door, closing it carefully behind him.
Izumina took a shaky breath as the door finally closed but remained stationary in her bed. She dared not move. Dared not even make a sound. Her eyes fluttered open slightly, adjusting to the darkness of the room.
She listened to her father's movements. As he crossed the hall and entered his bedroom. She heard the door close behind him and the shifting of clothes as he– most likely– changed into sleepwear. It occurred to Izumina then that she hadn't been allowed to change, let alone brush her teeth or hair. She cringed internally, feeling disgusted with herself.
Waiting as her father readied himself for bed, Izumina stayed completely still. She tried to make out his actions. The sound of his footsteps alluding to where in his room, and adjoining bathroom, he was. She waited until she heard him drawback his covers, and the familiar creaking of the bed frame, before silence.
She paused, until she was certain he must be lying down, before she started counting.
A minute. A few more. Everything in her screamed to stand, to bolt out the door and run into the street, but she didn't. She only had one shot at this.
She counted, the seconds bleeding into one another as time went on.
She waited a half hour, until she heard the sounds of soft snoring coming from his room. Then she waited one more. Just to be safe.
When she was certain he was asleep she roused herself, slowly pulling down the blankets and reaching for her phone. She checked the time: 1:30 am. Perhaps it hadn't been as long as she'd thought. She tried to use her quirk to teleport but her powers were still inoperable. Cussing in French internally, Izumina slowly stood from the bed.
Once she was upright she froze. Her legs felt shaky as she listened for signs of stirring across the hall.
Nothing.
With a breath, and phone in hand, she crossed her room. It was too risky to call for help right then. Too risky to dial 911. What could an officer even do? She had no evidence without a statement. By then, it would be too late.
She had only one thought on her mind: freedom.
Pressing her ear against the door, she paused once more before twisting the knob. She held it, praying the door wouldn't creek too loudly before opening it a crack.
She slipped into the hallway, her heart beating out of her chest.
When there were no other sounds of movement, Izumina took that as her sign to continue. She crept down the stairs, and with each step, she held her breath.
It didn't seem possible, but somehow she got to the bottom of the stairs. She paused, listening again for any signs of movement. She continued to the front door, twisting the lock before slowly grabbing the handle and pulling.
It opened.
Quick as a bunny, Izumina darted from the house, not bothering to close the door behind her.
Without looking back she ran silently through the street. The building across loomed tall as she came upon the familiar apartment complexes.
She breathed heavily as she rounded the corner of the building and sprinted up the steps to the Midoriya's home. She counted the numbers on each door she passed before coming to a quick, and rather ungraceful, halt when she found the one she'd been looking for.
Izumina gripped her knees as she panted, trying to catch her breath as she glanced over her shoulder. The house across the street, her home, her prison, had a dark shadow hanging over it. She trembled, her pupils dilating as she spun, shunning it, and raised her arm to knock.
Her fist reeled, bearing forward with all the desperation in her chest before stopping.
She stopped. Her fist hung in the air as her hand trembled.
She couldn't go to Izuku.
Her throat felt dry as her head fell, an intense look of horror crossing her face. Izuku had come to her house. He'd spoken with her father, about her no less. She'd come here countless times in the past. The Midoriya's apartment would be the first place her father would come looking for her.
She'd be damned if she let her father hurt him too. If she led danger to her best friend's doorstep.
Izumina clenched her jaw as her fingernails dug into the palm of her hand. Closing her eyes and turning away with a pained expression, she lowered her fist.
"Okay," she muttered to herself, raking her hands through her hair as she doubled over. "Think," she scolded herself.
Her head snapped like a whip towards her house, the open door swinging on its hinges causing her to take a step back. She tried to use her powers again to no avail. "No, no, no." With each muttered syllable she took a step back, until she found herself running again. Across the complex. Her feet hard against the concrete.
She ran with almost a manic fervour, her shoulders and jaw tight as her eyes darted around. Finally, she saw a door, leading up to the roof.
Without thinking, she grabbed the handle and pushed. It opened to a staircase, and with a quick utterance of gratitude, Izumina ascended the steps.
By the time she reached the top her breathing was ragged. She stumbled through the doorway, into the open air and arms of the night. She gripped her chest as though she were starved of oxygen, her body convulsing from the strain.
Patting down her body, she fumbled for her phone. She'd remembered grabbing it before she'd left.
Finding a hard lump in her pocket, she retrieved it and pressed the power button. The screen illuminated and she hastily input her password.
Without thinking her thumbs flew to Fleur's contact.
She paused momentarily, realizing what she'd done.
Fleur was gone. Her mother was gone. She had no one. She racked her brain for someone to call, but her mind was hazy, her thoughts muddled. All that existed was her ragged pulse and heaving breathing.
Her hands trembled, and she worried for a second if she'd accidentally drop her phone. Izumina tilted her head up as she whispered wretchedly to the heavens.
"Why did you have to die?" Her eyes shut as she pressed her phone to her forehead with both hands. "Mom... Fleur..."
She needed someone she could confide in. She was desperate for a familiar voice, someone she trusted.
She'd regressed drastically. Everything from her mannerisms to her frame of mind embodying that of when she was little. She'd forgotten her ties, All Might and her classmates. She knew on some level she should call the authorities, but something deep inside prevented her from doing so. She wasn't thinking rationally. At that moment, she wanted, needed, a parent.
Her eyes flew open as something in her mind clicked. She tapped her phone and quickly brought it up to her ear. As it rang she muttered, "pick up, pick up, pick up..."
The call went through and she immediately straightened up. "Charles!" Izumina's expression melted into one of utter relief. She smiled for what felt like the first time in days.
"Izumi," Charles's voice emanated through the phone. Izumina clung to it like a lifeline.
"Oh god, Charles," Izumina sighed, her eyes welling up as she paced along the rooftop.
"Izumi I–" he spoke, his voice trailing off.
She could hardly contain her joy.
Charles took a breath before continuing, "I told you not to contact me," and it was then that Izumina heard the disdain in his tone.
Izumina felt like she'd just been slapped.
"...But–"
"No," she heard him exhale sharply. "I'm serious. I can't do this. I won't."
"You," Izumina stammered, she felt winded. "You don't understand–"
Charles cut her off before she could say more, the pain evident in his words.
"I'm sorry..."
"No," Izumina's throat constricted. She wanted to scream, but the call had already disconnected. Charles had hung up.
"No, no," Izumina spoke, gripping the phone as tears sprung from her eyes. She stopped pacing.
"You brought me here," she sobbed. "You left me in that house with him!" She felt like she was choking on every word. "How could you leave me with him?"
Her breathing became ragged again as she gripped the phone with both hands, not pulling it away from her ear, despite the fact that Charles was long gone.
"I could've been your kid! I wanted to be your kid!"
Her knees buckled under the weight of her words, and she came crashing down. She crawled to the edge of the roof and used the ledge to pull herself back onto her feet.
"He turned me into a monster! A Nomu! How could you?"
She sat on the ledge, her body shaking in anguish as her phone slipped from her hands. It fell at her feet with a clamour. She didn't have to look to know that the screen had cracked.
Biting the inside of her cheek, Izumina raised her heel before bringing it down on the phone, shattering it further. Tears ran down her cheeks as her eyes became dull. She stared ahead blankly, her thoughts dark.
Why couldn't it have been Fleur? Why was he the one who'd died?
Izumina trembled.
All she wanted was to see him again, to be at his side.
Her downcast eyes drifted up, her chin tilting towards the heavens. She stood on the ledge, raising herself just so she could feel closer to him. To her hero...
She stopped shaking. Her shoulders set as she realized what she had to do.
No one was coming to save a Nomu like her. How could she have expected anything different?
Izumina took a step back, her heels teetering on the edge of oblivion. Her tears dried as the night cradled her, coaxing her back. To let go...
She was a monster. Plain and simple. Perhaps this was what she deserved.
Closing her eyes, Izumina took a breath and leaned back. As her foot slipped from the edge, she fell from the building. Answering the call of the void.
In the silence of that night, despite the raging swell of emotions she'd been holding all day, Izumina finally felt like she could breathe.
She hadn't realized how much she'd missed that feeling...
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Author's Note:
I did not mean to take this long to update! I've been completely overwhelmed with trying to find a job and working on my original story 'Death Itself' recently (if you're interested in that please follow my other Instagram and TikTok accounts @alyssa_writes_stuff). My apologies again for the slow updates. I hope to update again soon so I can wrap up this arc before school starts, but in the meantime thank you for bearing with me and for all the continued love and support for this story.
~ Snowy ❄️