𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐂 || BNHA

Chapter 1

A low growl escaped your lips as you lay sprawled on the ground, the gash in your abdomen throbbing with relentless pain, each heartbeat sending a fresh trickle of blood oozing from the wound. You exhaled a sigh, a mix of frustration and resignation, and slowly blinked your eyes open. There, towering above you, was a burly figure—a mountain of a man, muscles straining against his shirt, his face fixed in a grin that didn't seem to waver.

"Whatcha doing down here, sweetheart?" he inquired, his tone teasing yet curious.

With a slight huff of defiance, you shifted your gaze away from him, surveying the scene around you. The rich crimson of your blood had begun to seep into the golden grains of sand, forming a dark, spreading stain beneath you—a silent testimony to the struggle that had landed you there.

"I was supposed to be dead," I breathed out, my voice tinged with disbelief and bitterness. The man's brow furrowed slightly, though the perpetual grin never truly left his face. "Who are you?" I demanded, a mixture of curiosity and wariness lacing my words.

He seemed to flinch at the question before straightening up. "All Might," he declared, his voice booming with an underlying warmth. "DON'T WORRY, DARLING, I AM HERE!"

I let out a weary huff and gingerly lifted my head, taking stock of my current form—Indominus. The memory of the mosasaurs' savage attack haunted me, a fresh sting emanating from the wound they had left behind. Yet, to my amazement, I could feel the gash starting to close, the regenerative process underway.

"Do you know any doctors I could see?" I inquired, my voice a mix of urgency and fatigue.

All Might nodded in response, his demeanor shifting to one of helpful resolve. "Yeah, I'll carry you there," he assured me. With that, he reached out, his massive hand closing around my neck. Pain shot through me, and I couldn't help but snarl in response.

"Sorry," he barked, his tone both apologetic and earnest. I managed a hum of acknowledgment and clamped my mouth shut, suppressing any further protest.

With surprising gentleness for his size, All Might lifted me, setting off toward a destination I hoped was a hospital. The world around me blurred, and my consciousness flickered like a faulty light as I struggled to hold on. But exhaustion claimed me, and darkness descended before we could arrive, wrapping me in its inescapable embrace.

💙💜

"Here you are, sweetie," murmured Recovery Girl, her voice a soothing balm as she handed me the steaming cup. I cradled it delicately within the confines of my claws, feeling the warmth seep through the polished surfaces. Beside me, the towering presence of All Might loomed large, yet his demeanor was all gentle concern.

"Are you feeling better now, after everything you've just endured?" he inquired, his tone laced with genuine care.

I exhaled a long, weary sigh, the memories swirling like a tempest in my mind. "It was just a clash with the water monster," I replied, the words heavy with the echoes of tumultuous waves and the sharp sting of saltwater. The encounter had been fierce—a chaotic ballet of splashing fury and desperate resilience, etched into the landscape of my thoughts like an ancient tale sung by the sea itself.

All Might blinked slowly, a thoughtful sigh escaping his lips as he regarded me with a blend of admiration and sympathy. "Well, you are quite a formidable creature, aren't you? May I ask your name?"

"Y/N," I responded, my tail flicking through the air with a soft, restless motion. The longing within me was palpable, a deep-rooted desire that tugged at my heartstrings. "I just want to go home," I confessed, the words carrying the weight of a homesickness amplified by the chaos that had unfolded. The park, once a sanctuary of vibrant life and tranquility, now lay in ruins—a desolate landscape of charred remnants and smoldering ashes, each vestige of its former beauty marred by destruction.

All Might placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder, the gesture both comforting and sincere. "I'm truly sorry about what happened to you, really, I am," he said, his voice filled with genuine regret and empathy.

I shook my head gently, dismissing his concern. "It's fine," I replied, trying to muster a semblance of resilience. "It's happened before, a lot over the past few months. I've been on the bench, bleeding out for weeks." The words carried a raw edge, a testament to the battles endured and the endless cycle of struggle and recovery that had become my reality.

I inhaled deeply, allowing the cool, calming air to fill my lungs before pushing myself upright. The sudden movement was met with a sharp bump as my head collided with the low ceiling above. Pain shot through my skull, and I couldn't help but let out a groan of discomfort. All Might flinched at the sound, his instinctive concern evident in his expression.

"Are you alright? Do you need me to leave?" he asked, his voice a mixture of worry and readiness to assist. I shook my head, the motion a gentle reassurance.

"It's fine, stay," I replied, my voice steady despite the throb in my head. "I need to go back to the beach; I have some food there." The beach had become a lifeline, a place of both solitude and sustenance amidst the chaos, its wild, untamed beauty offering a thin thread of normalcy.

As I prepared to leave, a hand stopped me, and I found myself meeting the gaze of a man standing nearby. A scarf was wrapped loosely around his neck, its fabric fluttering gently with each breath, and his dark eyes were like twin voids, intense and scrutinizing.

"And who are you?" he asked, his voice carrying an edge of suspicion. "Are you that monster who was on the beach bleeding out?" His words were probing, delving beneath the surface of appearances to unearth the truth of my existence—a creature caught between worlds, striving to survive against the odds.

I fixed him with a piercing stare, a low hiss escaping my lips as I asserted myself. "I am now," I replied, my voice edged with defiance. "Who are you, and can you move?" My words were a challenge, a demand for clarity and space.

He responded with a dismissive huff, his hand swiftly reaching for the scarf coiled around his neck. In an instant, it came to life, defying gravity as it floated around his head, mirroring the sudden intensity in his eyes as they flared crimson.

I sighed, a sound laced with a mixture of exasperation and amusement. "Look, babe," I began, a wry smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. "You look impressive and all, but no quirk eraser is going to work on me." My voice carried a subtle confidence, an acknowledgment of my own uniqueness—a puzzle unsolved, impervious to the tricks and tactics of most.

With a swift, decisive motion, I lifted a claw and drove it into the wall just inches from his head. The sound echoed sharply, and the man flinched instinctively, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. "Now back off, man, before I kill you," I growled, my voice carrying the weight of a warning not to be taken lightly.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," interjected All Might hurriedly, stepping between us with hands raised in a gesture of peace. "That's not necessary, Y/N. He's a friend. His name is Aizawa Shouta—do not kill him." The urgency in his tone was palpable, a plea for restraint in a situation teetering on the edge of escalating tension.

The room seemed to hold its breath, the charged air thickening as I considered All Might's words. This Aizawa, with his intense gaze and floating scarf, was not my enemy—at least not yet. The challenge lay in negotiating the boundary between self-preservation and trust.

I growled, a low, rumbling sound that vibrated through the tense air around us. "Well, well, then, hero," I intoned, lowering myself until I was face-to-face with him, our gazes locking in a silent battle of wills. "Now get out of my way. Last warning. "

With a defiant glance, I brushed past him, my movements deliberate and commanding, each footfall a thunderous reminder of my resolve. The hallway echoed with the sound of my passage as I stormed toward the exit, the dim light casting elongated shadows that mirrored the tempest brewing within me.

Bursting through the door, I emerged into the open air, the change of scene offering a momentary reprieve. I shook my head, trying to clear the lingering tension, the cool breeze a welcome balm against the heated emotions that still simmered under the surface like embers waiting for a spark.