Itsumi Midoriya viewed the world differently opposed to her brother's beliefs. She never really found the admiration for heroes, nor did she see the greater good. To put it simply, her mind was something different.
People always noticed her offsett...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
* * * * * *
ITSUMI MIDORIYA LINGERED in the dark alley as the moon hangs above her in the black, star lacking, sky. It was a cool February night, or very early day, but she was wide awake. Since her job at the restaurant was no more, her nightly hours were filled with walking the streets to occupy her free time. Of course she lied to her mother saying that she found another job, a small one that didn't pay much but that gave her expirience for her resume.
Snow crunched beneath her boots, but the young woman didn't mind. Winter was her favorite season, cold and chaotic, dangerous even. Black ice was something she often compared to herself, unnoticeable to the naked eye, but upon contact they become deadly, attacking with an unsuspecting force.
Which brings her here.
Since that day at the restaurant where she experienced her first kill, her mind became unhinged. To others that would bring concern, but to her, it felt freeing. To come off and out from the pressure that was weighing, crushing, her down, it felt euphoric. It's like the agonizing torture she's been living with finally stopped. Those years of drowning and having her lungs filled with water, she could finally be able to breathe. To have her limbs free from the tightly squeezing strings that were constantly pulling at her, that was everything to her.
And her mind urged, begged, her to feel it again.
So, she did. Her dark nights were filled with killing, and she eventually found another comfort to release her pent up frustrations. She didn't need the trashed beach anymore, nor her room or that bench under the tree where she watched the traffic. No, all she needed was the darkness of the night to comfort her. The only witness to her heinous actions was the pale moon above her.
She was the wolf among the sheep. The snake beneath the flowers. The fox in the henhouse.
She was the predator and everyone was her prey.
But those who had an inkling of resemblance to her father, if they were tanned with dark curly hair, they suffered the most. After all, it was because of him that she was introduced to a life full of stress and pressure, where she had to take responsibility and fit herself into several plastic moldings. Itsumi reveled in their screams as she broke and crushed their bones from the inside, but she always made the kill by ripping their beating hearts from their chests, enjoying it as the crimson blood drenched and dripped down her hands.
The fact that she killed Mifune the way she did was because he called her sweetheart, something her father used to call her. And that's why she kills these men the same way!
So, as she stands in the dark alley, listening to the pleas of the begging man, his green eyes shining with tears, she sneers. This man resembles her father too much. It's disgusting. She knows it's not him, but the parallels are enough to make her absolutely rageful, filling her with a tremendous amount of hate!
