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it's not like she was blind to the suffering she caused the blue haired lady. she saw it.
she just didn't care. she was brought here for a reason and that reasoning was to torment. she wanted to make her life hell.
she knew her life was already shitty. she watched as the other man slapped her to the floor. she watched as itachi stared from the doorway. she watched it all.
and she just wanted to make it worse. why should they have their happy ending when she was stuck here? she was forgetting things daily.
how old was she last time when she departed? 16? 14? 13? she didn't know.
being a kid again fucking sucked. she couldn't express the firey anger inside of her very well in this new, delicate, disgusting body. she got her "father's" upturned onyx eyes. her "mother's" dark blue locks. they were so smooth. so gross and perfect.
her flames burned everything but what she needed it to burn.
her hands, tiny and chubby. they could do so little. but she made do with what she had.
whenever that damned lady washed her, she grabbed onto those annoyingly silky locks of hers and pulled. they came out easier these days. good. she hoped that bitch would be bald by the time she could speak proper words. even better, dead.
as of now, she could only say basic things. her knowledge of her previous language-what was it called again?-dwindled every passing day. it made her mad.
mad.
all she could express. all she could ever do. she hoped that caretaker of hers could see the rage. feel it. but it seemed like she didn't mind much.
mikoto didn't mind much these days. she was uncontrollably numb to it all.
so much so that she'd begun to neglect her children.
itachi, now four, could take care of himself. what a promising kid. already being trained by fugaku. already bathing himself. already unbothered. he'd enter the academy in 2 years.
what a useless kid. at one point, lyssa had contemplated whether or not she should include him in her rampaging. but he was far too soft. too kind. why was he so considerate towards that hag? that worthless conceiver?
lyssa was hungry. for both flesh and some actual fucking nutrition to keep her alive.
but, maybe this was better. fire spreads faster when the vicinity is silent and solitude.
lyssa odin-now ikari-was gonna envelope this whole world in flames.
right now all she could do was cause minor inconveniences. the moment she could run free, the moment this unreliable pair of legs could do more than three steps at a time, and the moment these fragile little hands could tear faces to shreds,
everyone would be in danger. no one would be spared. not the children, not the adults, nobody.
no world could bring her peace. no matter where she goes, all she'll do is reek havoc.
she'd make whatever deity that sent her here regret not diminishing her existence when they still could.
