Blood and Air |The Sequel| {Bakugo X FemOC}

A Forced Visit

My head pounded, like the time when I was slammed, with full force, into asphalt. Strong, pulsing glimpses of pain that rocked through my body, down my spine, to the tips of my fingers and toes.

Why does it hurt so bad—

"Do not act out in any way. No yelling, no fighting, no Quirks, no trying to escape — only sit in your spot and do not leave it."

Shock, frightened shock, iced my system, freezing everything — even the pain.

Mrs. Osaka. That was her voice. Why is she speaking, why is her icy fingers touching my arm, trailing off like claws ripping flesh out? Why—

Because you wrre shot in the fucking head, Mira.

My eyes popped open, blurry from the lights and sheer pain that pulsed alive again. My breathw as trapped in my throat as my anxiety rose, crushing me from the inside. I was in a chair, and with my anxiety, I tried to sit up. Tried to move. But a painful tingling, something terrifyingly familiar, kept me locked in place.

The spinning room started to focus. I could feel a rope attatched around my torso to the chair, keeping me upright. A table was before me, set nicely, like a restaurant with the white cloth and silver set. I heard a light shuffle of a chair and my eyes snapped forward, ignoring how much pain that was causing me.

And it felt as if I couldn't breathe.

A woman with silver-streaked brown hair, less sulver than what I remebered, tight in a bun, and brown eyes devoid of emotion, looked back to me. Fine, little aging lines marked the corners of her eyes and lips, the latter set into a tiny, satisfied grin. She sat tall in her chair, perfect poster, clad in a black suit and white button up.

It was the face of that purple woman. The one who told me to hold onto Katsuki, in that little fast food restaurant.

It was the face of Mrs. Osaka. My tormentor.

And it was definitely her voice. Definitely her Quirk, that forced me to stay in this spot, to not let my Quirks rage out and fight back, to sit still and quiet. My heart was beating in fear as my canines came loose, but my face stayed blank, void, unavle to express myself before her.

No, no, no, no no no. This can't be happening. This can't be happening. This can't be-

I forced my thoughts to stop, to not let fear suddenly rule my brain, make me susceptible. I was afraid. Terrified. But I can't show it. I can't show it or I'll only lose to her, become her toy once again.

I glanced around the room quickly. We were in a warm, wooden floored and walled restaurant, all the tables and chairs stacked. Those guards that haunted my dreams, all looking like replicas of each other, clad in white, a white mask covering their faces, gaurded all doors.

Clones. Guards who helped abuse me for years. Who kicked me down and locked me up when I tried running. Not all human. Under the control of Mrs. Osaka.

And her. Ember. The red hair and tan skin, standing back near a atack of chairs. The one who fucking shot me in the head. 

How am I not dead?

"It's been a year, hasn't it? I missed you, Mira." My body tensed as my gaze went by to Osaka. Those brown eyes glinted as she spoke, and I forced myself to breathe in through my nose. I was close to passing out again.

My heart pounded away and blood rushed to my ears. But that amused her. Seeing the fear in my eyes.

So I did what I've learned to do, in my time spent with her. And I clamped my emotions down, shut them off. Letting a blank slate fall over me.