Her Forgotten ~Tomura Shigaraki x OC AU~

Chapter 23: Pending Storm

Illika

The scent of rain teeters on the breeze.

It blows, riding the wind as it caresses my face. The air is heavy, the humidity practically falling on my tongue like honey. Thick and smooth. Storm clouds gather overhead, dense gray beasts choking any hopes of sunshine. A few low grumbles echo somewhere in the distance, singing a deep melody.

I sit, relaxing on the balcony, basking in the approaching storm's beauty. She looks so mysterious from afar, her elegance sweeping across Musutafu in a poetic dance, but soon enough, she will unleash her true power. Her chaos will ensue, swallowing part of the day. I'm sure by then I'll migrate back into the building, but for now, her grace is still in its infancy. Hell has not been unleashed yet.

I take a deep breath, breathing in the summer fragrance, melting more in my seat. Alone, under this expansive sky, I feel so small and insignificant. Almost as if I am a tiny grain of sand, simply tumbling as the waves known as life bashes against me, withering me micro-bit by micro-bit.

It sounds almost tragic, really. Labeling myself as insignificant. It sounds as if I don't value myself or my worth, but that couldn't be further from the truth. I know my abilities are valuable, not just to the PLF, but to anyone I could choose to ally myself with. Friend or foe, anyone who knows what my quirk is would see its usefulness. I am confident of that.

So, why do I feel so small right now?

There's something about sitting under a great, big sky, watching as great, big gray clouds cloak it. It stretches and stretches, going beyond what I can clearly see – beyond the borders of this city. Beyond all of Japan. And it's almost humbling.

It may be strange, but it reminds me of how little I am compared to the rest of the world. I am just one face out of billions of faces. One heart out of just as many. Just one.

And I suppose I wonder – though briefly – if maybe there is a God or higher being. If so, are they really watching me? Are they really passing judgment on how I live my life? On my wrongs? On my rights? And do they not have their own flaws? I don't know if I can believe in that. In a flawless and faultless God.

Then again, I've lived a Godless life. I've never once uttered a prayer. Not really. I was too busy trying to survive. Survive the coldness at home. Survive the bullying at school. Survive the streets when I turned eighteen. Just survive. That has been my mentality for so long.

If such a kind and caring God did exist, would he really let me do that?

"It's gonna bust open soon."

I glimpse over my shoulder, watching as Dabi moseys out onto the balcony. He walks slowly, scuffing his soles as he holds a cigarette between his lips, lighting it with a flicker of a tiny blue flame. He inhales, then blows a cloud of whisking smoke. He looks at me, extending the cigarette my way.

"Want one?" he asks, his tone smooth and cool.

I shake my head. "No, thank you. I'm not much for smoking."

"Fair enough." He shrugs, taking another puff.

He seems as he always does. Calm, cool, and collected. Almost like the popular boys that went to my school. I shiver, remembering their glares. They always looked at me as if I was nothing, and maybe I was. Not to them. Not to my family. But there is a difference between Dabi and those boys.

He – and the rest of the League – do see me, and they see more than a scary quirk.

Another grumble dances through the clouds and I shift, turning back to how I had been sitting before he appeared. "I didn't realize you smoke, though. Is this a new habit of yours?"