01. STRANGERS

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FOR AS LONG AS SHE COULD REMEMBER, SHE ALWAYS LIKED THE SMELL OF THE OLD BOOKS. Out of all the sections in her grandmother's bookstore, the one filled with ancient texts had always been her favorite. There was something about the way their frayed pages brushed over her fingers, the way the spines bent easily, the way she would find a post-it or words in the margin, and the way the previous owner's names were usually written on the inside cover. They left her wondering what the owners' lives were like; what had compelled them to buy the book in the first place? Why had they sold it? These questions were never completely answered but her quirk allowed her to fill in some of the gaps, allowing at least some explanation.

But now, she really wanted to hear straight from the previous owner.

Dust lay softly on the books, too small to be seen with the naked eye, whilst rays from the setting sun came in through curtained windows. She sat on the rung of a ladder with her head stuck in the book, scouring the pages with a hunger for what would come next. The words were written in scraggly yet still legible writing, some crossed out in a mess of black ink that she could still see as a red figure stood in front of her. He read the words out to her with a rough voice that was filled with a shrouded wisteria that was only for her to hear. Now and then, she'd look up at the faceless figure, longing to see his face- longing as in a purely non-romantic sense of course. "Who could you be..." she muttered softly below the ambient music that resonated throughout the shop.

The beeping of her watch brought her from her wonder and sighing, she placed a bookmark in between the pages. As she turned it off and placed the book in her work apron pocket, the jingle of the door's entry bell met her ears. "I didn't ask you guys to come with me," grumbled an ever so familiar voice, making her stop in her tracks. Could it be...? She shook her head with a pout and walked down the stairs to the sections filled with untouched books. In comparison to the other section, she felt the brand-new and ready-to-sell books weren't as fascinating. When she touched them, she only got fleeting glimpses of strangers that had yet to read the text inside. There were no feelings, memories, or attachments- things that didn't pique her interest.

"C'mon Bakubro! We promise not to bother you-" "You already are." She rolled her eyes at the noise they were making as she pulled a watering can from a nearby shelf and began to water the many plants that hung in front of the windows. Her smooth hands cradled the pots as she did so, noticing a bit of the macrame from a hanger had begun to fray. "Grandma's gonna be pissed," she whispered while making a mental note to herself and finishing up with the plants. A semi-quiet screech came from behind her and she stiffened, looking back to find an all-too-familiar figure. Had she seen him around the store before? She must have... Crimson eyes met (e/c) ones and it felt like her heart leaped from her chest. She turned around immediately, opting to go towards the back of the store where she could sort through new arrivals rather than look at the stunning blond.

But he didn't move at all.

His eyes followed her every move until she disappeared behind filled bookshelves. As much as he wanted to chase after her, his feet stayed glued to the floor, unable to show this part of himself to his classmates. They snickered softly until he turned back around to glare at them, hoping the burning of his cheeks wouldn't make anything obvious. "Oh, so that's why you came here~" If he had no respect for the store he was in, he would've blasted Kaminari's face straight off but quite frankly, he didn't want to cause her any trouble...why was he suddenly feeling like this? He grimaced and turned around (for some reason he had hoped she was standing there again), heading straight for the exit. He could search for his old book later. Right now, he had no time to think of some girl. He was focused on being the number one hero after all.

Unbeknownst to him, she had felt similarly. Although her heart pounded in her chest, she denied that it had anything to do with...love. She cringed inwardly at the thought and shoved a book to the side- and oh wow she was putting that one in the used pile now considering how crinkled the book became when she moved it- hoping her racing heart was nothing more than some form of heart palpitation. She had read it in an old book somewhere so surely it must have been that. Or better yet, it could be she was still in shock from seeing someone so good-looking. It was a normal reaction to seeing pretty people. She was definitely not crushing on someone, that was for sure.

In hindsight, it was actually quite ironic for her to dislike the idea of love considering her last name had the word love in it. It was no wonder her parents had always made fun of her for it. Of course, making fun of her distaste for love didn't help at all. In fact, them making fun of it and showing off their cheesy, picture-perfect idea of romance to the world had most likely fueled her distaste for it in the first place. Especially since their "romance" became fighting behind closed doors. That too was ironic- the two pro-heroes who were "madly-in-love" were, in reality, mad at each other most of the time. Had it not been for her grandma taking her in, (y/n) surely would have had an even greater hatred for love than she already had.

But now, here she was with a blond boy on her mind when she had vowed to never fall in love and he, the boy who had sworn to become the number one hero, was now taking an interest in a person rather than his goal. It was the complete opposite of what they had in mind. And if they had been asked at that very moment if they had fallen for each other, this would have most definitely been their answer:

"FUCK OFF."

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rewritten 01.21.21

✱𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐑/ ᵇ. ᵏᵃᵗˢᵘᵏⁱWhere stories live. Discover now