𝘙𝘦𝘥𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘺

Chapter 3

-Izuku's POV-

For the first time in my life, I didn't have a plan.

I don't have notes on how to revive a dead soul.

I'd... I'd broken her down so many times.

I'd taken a cemented wall enforced with firearms and cannons and tore it to the ground with my bare hands.

But as I stared back at the girl with one blue eye; I realized I wasn't looking to break down a sturdy wall again.

I was looking at a city. One that'd been blown to pieces overnight.

She was Pompeii in my hands.

She was dust and rubble, nothing but a mere ghost of the girl I once fell in love with.

She didn't try to push me off of her. She didn't yell at me to get out. She didn't hit my chest with her fists or scream at me that she'd hate me till the day she lay dead.

I could feel her emotions and she felt no anger. No regret or spite... just... pain.

She was just... silent.

This wasn't Asami talking to me.

This was a ghost.

Her eyes; sickly and discolored, sunken and caved into her skull like she'd been wandering the world as nothing more than fog since the dawn of time. All Might told me she'd been using hands to communicate... like those Ouija boards I once read about in some mystery book.

When I held her... she was nothing but skin and bone. Every bit of muscle having vanished over the past two weeks. The abs I used to once watch flex and sharpen under my fingertips now reduced to nothing but ribs and pale flesh. Her arms were nimble, like a child's.

She was sick.

She was a ghost.

And she blamed herself.

I'm facing the most terrifying war of my life and I don't have my best friend by my side to fight with me. Instead, she was on the other side of the field; staring back at me with a sickly pale and scarred eye.

She was holding a loaded gun to my chest, and goddammit- She still looked so beautiful while doing it.

As soon as she said she hated me, she pulled that trigger, and every ounce of love in my body splattered across the walls behind me.

Left in that goddamn hospital room that held the ghost of the love of my life. Holding her captive as if she was meant to haunt that room for the rest of her life.

I'd always known this day would come. Ever since I swore one late night on the beach to withhold the truth of Asami's origins, I knew that I was sealing the fate in which she would eventually spend her days hating me. I always wanted to tell her... Every night she fell asleep with her face curled up beside mine; I had to talk myself out of waking her up and confessing to everything on the spot.

I always loved the nighttime with Asami. She always seemed to loosen up, her skin seemingly glowing and her eyes full of life and color. She danced around on her bed, jumping all over me and laughing about something stupid I'd said as she slowly began to open herself up to me.

I still remember that girl.

I had a thousand sketches of that girl. The moment's I'd catch her with her nose in a book or slowly drifting off on the swinging bench on the porch of her house in the evenings. The moments I'd walk to her house just to find her on the porch steps wrapped up in a blanket with a cup of coffee in her hand.