K.BAKUGO X READER (Cover art by me)
In a life where I'd be safe in one moment and on the brink of death in another, I realized that he was the only force that could ground me. Of all the people in the world. My volatile co-worker. My menacing rival...
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part one
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When we are faced with an eminent threat and no means to conquer it, human nature says to run. A novice knight, threatened to be burned alive by a crimson-eyed dragon guarding the tower, has few options when forced to fight without a sword. Defend. Avoid. Adapt.
My quirk is called Tear. It lets me do all three.
If the dragon rears its ugly head, all it would take is a nano-second of time, and I would be back at the entrance, picking my lost sword from the ground. And in the next, I'd be at the dragon's throat, blood running from my blade. Before the king could announce a threat to the rest of the kingdom, I'd be at the castle gates. A quest complete in the time it takes horseback to travel in 5-minute intervals.
Time is fickle. I play with its boundaries and every time, it conquers me.
My quirk doesn't control time, but it tears the threads of space and time that hold our dimensions together. It sounds monumental when I explain it, but it's not as fancy as it seems. I wish it were stronger. Would've made my life a hell of a lot easier growing up, wanting to kick bad guys' butts and take down villains who could lift the weight of cars over their head or blow-up entire cities... strength and power like that blonde-haired idiot...
Physical training, sleeping, eating; everything takes time. So does travelling from one place to another. But if you were to fold that space and tear a hole through the center, you'd get there faster. It takes more time to walk around a wall than it does if you could walk right through it and show up on the other side. That's how teleportation works. That's how Tear works, for the most part.
Now, let me tell you, teleporting isn't a physically competent power but it sure packs a hell of a punch to my body. I can't teleport to the moon or even across a football field. Turns out, human cells can't withstand the tears of our physical reality too well. Last time I tried to teleport further than 50 ft, I nearly lost my legs. The flesh was splotchy and black. Recovery girl wasn't sure I'd be able to walk again.
Good thing I still can. I've been needing my legs a lot lately. Walking to and from the agency can be quite the commute. It's close enough that taking the train is pointless, and biking is more work than it's worth with all those hills and busy traffic. Plus, I like to be on my guard. On foot, ready to teleport where and when I need to. When the weather's nice, walking isn't so bad. Sure, it takes time, but taking short cuts doesn't always end well for me. I tried to teleport in 30ft intervals across the city and nearly passed out in a cold sweat at the agency's doorstep. Not the best impression.
Coffee helps. It doesn't fuel my quirk or anything, but it gets the nerves firing in my body if you know what I mean. There's a little shop sitting on the side street at the top of the hill. It's quaint and always has some artist or musician spending their break filling the bustle of life with something beautiful. Taking in the moment as it is. The owners are friendly. The coffee's decent. Most of the patrons are nice, normal, not crazy, hotheaded psychopaths. Except for one... He doesn't talk to anyone. The baristas see the scowl under his sunglasses and the blonde, spikey hair tucked under his dark ballcap, and they know. He drinks a large, black, dark roast. If he's there, he'll begrudgingly walk with me to work. There's always some excuse. "There's only one way to the agency. Not my problem you're walking the same way as me!"
