"You're being stupid."
"I know, but you're still going to help me."
"..."
"..."
"I hate that you're right. I can have it done and sent in three days. Can you hold out until then?"
"Yeah. Have it mailed to *********, apartment 306,"
"An ally of yours?"
"Nope. It's an abandoned apartment, but the rest of the building is intact and occupied."
"Great...not suspicious at all. Ciao."
"Bye Mya, and thanks."
(y/n) hangs up the phone and sighs.
Both phone calls are done, finally.
She looks around the room she stands in. It's not the apartment she told Mya to send her package to, rather, it's a much more familiar room to her.
It's part of her mother's old safe house.
(Y/n) once spent much of her spare time in the house, when she wasn't training her quirk with her father or doing her school work. Whenever her mother didn't want to care for her for a while, she would leave her daughter in the safe house while she went out to do... business.
(Y/n) learned far too young what her mother's business involved.
And the amount of blood will haunt her for eternity.
And yet, she doesn't even squirm at the sight of a gory death anymore.
She blames her mother.
"Mommy, what's this?" a four-year-old (y/n) asks her mother, holding a handgun. The safety is on, fortunately, though the mother's calm smile is far more concerning.
"That's a gun, sweety," Mrs. (l/n) explains, kneeling to her daughter's level, "it fires projectiles called bullets at targets."
...
"What's a projectile?"
Mrs. (l/n) lets out a deceptively melodious laugh as she carefully takes the gun from her daughter's tiny hands. She aims it at a target set up on the other side of the room.
"Cover your ears sweetheart."
(Y/n) immediately obeys, covering her ears tightly though widening her eyes as though to focus harder.
With perfect precision, and without flinching, her mother hits the bullseye.
"Woah..."
"Pretty cool, right?" (y/n) 's mother asks. (y/n) nods excitedly.
"I thought so," Mrs. (l/n) says, "how about I teach you how to use it, and then I'll teach you how to use bigger guns too."
"YEAH!"
(Y/n) quickly shakes her head to rid the thoughts of her past, though they don't truly disappear, they simply begin whispering rather than screaming.
(Y/n) quickly makes her way to the closet. Opening it, she reveals a black assassin-style bodysuit, complete with many leather belts to hold knives, guns, and a katana.
Taking a deep breath she removes the outfit and accessories from its place and removes her own clothes. She changes slowly, almost afraid of seeing herself in the outfit.
Finally, the last belt was fastened to her upper thigh, holding a hunting knife in place.
(Y/n) carefully turns to look in the standing mirror. Her eyes widen at the sight.
She swears she's looking at her mother.
The skin-tight black suit is made of a blend of polyester and a mystery material that was never revealed to her. It's quite durable and is designed to have a leather-like appearance. The belts are tight on her thigh, hips, and back, holding her weapons securely in place. She wears a pair of fingerless gloves nearly identical to those from her first phoenix costume.
"I can't believe I'm doing this..." (y/n) mumbles, placing a black mask on her face and pulling up the hood of the suit. She quickly double-checks her weapons before making her next step.
Two katanas on her back. Check.
Dagger on her lower back. Check.
Hunting knife on her thigh. Check.
Two handguns on her hips. Check.
Three canisters on her belt. Check.
That's everything.
(Y/n) takes a quick peek at the clock.
10:59 pm.
"Time to go,"
(Y/n) takes one last look in the mirror, double-checking her red contacts are in place and her now (f/c) hair is fully dyed. She's unrecognizable, exactly her goal. Once she's satisfied that no one will see through her disguise, she quickly leaves the safe house.
She navigates the city easily despite being away for years. Using only the alleyways, she easily makes it to her destination undetected.
Just as she arrives at the empty street, her eyes land on a lone man. He wears a simple business suit, though (y/n) can tell he has a hidden gun under his jacket. She can tell that he is allowing it to be noticeable on purpose, likely as an intimidation tactic.
"Shadow?" the man asks without looking up at her.
"Yes," (y/n) confirms. The man nods and begins to walk away, (y/n) follows close behind. The two remain completely silent for the short trip. Soon, the man has led (y/n) to the simple yet decently large single floored building. It's identical to the other buildings on the street, though slightly blander.
(Y/n) follows the man into the building, scanning every inch of each room without turning her head. She takes note of every possible entrance and exit and the quickest routes to each one. If anything goes wrong, she needs to be able to escape at a moment's notice.
"Boss, I brought her."
(Y/n)'s eyes snap forward and settle on the boss.
No way!?
Sitting on a throne-like chair is a handsome man, no older than (y/n) herself. The way his arms are crossed displays his muscles, silently demonstrating his strength without a movement. His pitch-black hair, tied into a small ponytail, is short and appears to spike at the end. His striking crimson eyes are captivating and draw attention away from the slight scar on his eyebrow.
Despite the obvious differences, (y/n) recognizes the man immediately, though she says nothing.
EIJIRO KIRISHIMA!?
YOU ARE READING
I'll Return (Bakugoxfem!reader)
FanfictionThe sequel to I'll Stay. Y/n Bakugo, AKA Phoenix, is the fifth-ranked hero in America. Known for her kindness and thorough investigations. She leaves no stone unturned and has never once wrongly arrested anyone. Naturally, she's the perfect hero to...
