𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐂 || BNHA

Chapter 4

You stretched languidly, feeling the satisfying pull of muscle as your tail flicked through the air with a smooth, almost lazy grace. It was a spectacle, your tail swaying with an elegance that seemed to mock the sheer, utter normalcy of Izuku approaching you, tray of food in hand. You could hardly muster the energy to glance at it. Honestly, the only thing less appealing than this food was the awkward way Izuku was holding it, clearly unsure if you were going to suddenly lunge at him in a fit of hunger-induced rage. Spoiler alert: You weren't.

"You should eat, Y/N," Izuku said, the words tumbling out with the same nervousness he always seemed to carry around. "You'll get hungry otherwise, and I'd rather not have you attack any of my, uh, classmates." He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, a blush creeping up his face as he half-expected your next move to be a pounce.

You didn't even flinch as you lifted your gaze toward him, your ruby-red eyes locking onto his with a calmness that was almost unnerving. Those eyes, cold and piercing, made the back of Izuku's neck prickle. It wasn't that you were angry. Oh, no. It was worse: you were completely indifferent.

"I just hunted anyway," you said, your voice smooth as silk, utterly unbothered. You flashed him a lazy, but somehow regal, grin. "I don't need anything."

The words didn't hit him like a slap; they hit him like a freight train. You weren't even pretending to be hungry. You were far too cool for that—far too self-sufficient.

As you rose from your seat, standing with such an imposing grace that it practically defied the laws of physics, Izuku felt a lump form in his throat. He swallowed audibly, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Why did you have to be so much taller than him? He was already short, but standing in front of you was like a mouse trying to look tough in front of a lion. The way you loomed over him, all predator, and confidence, made his heart race in a mix of awe and, okay, slight terror.

Izuku tried his best to stand tall, but you had already won the height contest—by several feet, at least. His eyes widened in realization. "Uh... Well, if you're sure," he mumbled, already mentally preparing for the inevitable awkwardness when you inevitably found something else to do with that poor food tray.

And that, of course, was all the humor you'd need to keep your day going.

You couldn't resist the urge to tease him just a little more. With a mischievous gleam in your eye, you bent down and pressed a soft kiss to Izuku's nose, watching in satisfaction as his face flushed the brightest shade of red, as if he'd been set on fire. His whole body stiffened, and for a moment, he looked like a deer caught in headlights. You almost felt bad, but not really. After all, you were just being yourself—impossibly charming, of course.

With a grin still playing at the corners of your lips, you straightened up and, without a second thought, swept out of the classroom.

The air outside greeted you with a cool breeze, and you could practically feel the city calling to you. No more patience, no more constraints. Without hesitation, you let the transformation take over. Your body grew, shifting, reshaping into your indominus form. Bones cracked, muscles rippled as you became a towering, fearsome creature. The streets below shrank, and with each step, your claws left marks on the ground. The city, once so large and intimidating, now seemed like a playground beneath your feet.

You gave a low, rumbling growl of satisfaction before sprinting down the street. The wind felt exhilarating against your scales, and the city lights blurred past you like streaks of stars. Freedom—pure and simple. You could already feel your instincts awakening as you leaped over barriers and dashed around corners, no longer bound by any constraints.

But just as you thought you had the city all to yourself, a calm voice rang out from behind you.

"Now where are you going?"

You halted mid-stride, your head turning to see Aizawa standing in the shadows, his dark eyes fixed on you with that usual unamused expression. He looked more annoyed than concerned, but you'd never let that stop you.

"Just going for a walk," you replied, your tone dripping with feigned innocence. You stretched slightly, towering over him with a playful smile. "I can't take up more space than I already do in your room, Sensei."

Aizawa's eyes narrowed, but there was no real bite behind it. He'd long since realized that telling you not to do something was about as effective as asking the wind to stop blowing. Still, he didn't seem all that upset—more like he was resigned to your chaotic energy.

"At least stay out of the way of traffic," he muttered, running a hand through his messy hair. "And don't scare anyone, Y/N."

You gave a slow nod, though you weren't sure how well you could promise that last part. After all, being the apex predator of the city did tend to cause a bit of panic every now and then. But who could blame them? You were, after all, a magnificent force of nature.

And with that, you were off again, your tail swishing behind you, leaving Aizawa to shake his head with a sigh that somehow, even after everything, still felt like it was laced with fondness.

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You absolutely hated simple thugs. There was something about their smug, oblivious confidence that made your blood boil. You were far too advanced for their petty crimes—far too dangerous. And tonight, as you moved through the city streets cloaked in camouflage, hidden from prying eyes, you were determined not to let anything spoil your rare moment of solitude.

But then, the shrill cry of an elderly woman pierced the air. Her purse was snatched by some bumbling thief who clearly didn't know who he was messing with. You let the camouflage fade away, stepping out into the open like a force of nature revealing itself from the shadows.

The thief froze for a split second, his eyes widening in fear as you towered over him. He didn't have time to blink before your hand shot out, grabbing his arm with a sickening snap. The crack of bone echoed down the alleyway as you twisted his limb with effortless strength, making sure he'd never try anything stupid again.

Without even glancing at him, you casually tossed the elderly woman's purse back to her with a soft smile, the gesture gentle despite the violent scene you'd just created. She clutched the purse to her chest, too stunned to speak, as you turned and began to walk away, leaving the crook to lie on the cold ground, whimpering and clutching his broken arm.

You hadn't even broken a sweat.

That, however, was when you caught the attention of something—or rather, someone—else. From a rooftop above, a red-winged hero watched the scene unfold with a knowing grin on his face. He flicked one of his crimson wings toward a dark-haired companion standing beside him, a silent command passing between them.

"I'm going down to check on this," the winged hero said, his voice smooth as silk, tinged with curiosity. Without waiting for a response, he launched himself from the rooftop, wings flapping powerfully as he descended toward the street below, where the aftermath of your display lay in the cool night air.

Dabi, still on the rooftop, remained perfectly still. His eyes never left his friend, the winged hero, as he swooped toward the alley where you had left the thief behind. Dabi smirked slightly, but there was something else in his gaze—something calculating.

He didn't need to chase you down. He knew exactly what you were.

"You won't be running for long, beautiful," Dabi murmured to himself, the corners of his lips curving into a predatory grin. "The League of Villains will find you eventually, and when we do... well, let's just say I'm looking forward to seeing what kind of chaos you'll bring to the table."

With a final glance at his friend in pursuit, Dabi slowly turned, his dark eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and anticipation. It wasn't just about catching you—it was about controlling you. The world would tremble at your feet.

And he, Dabi, would be there when it all began.