𝗥𝗮𝗱𝗶𝗮𝗻𝘁 +K. Bakugo X Reader+

58. Heart Of Gold

Sitting in front of the hero commissioner, your eyes had heavy bags and your eyes were puffy. Your hair was messy and you smelled like week old leftovers from dinner. You looked so dead. So tired.

The hero commissioner pitied you. The sight of you repulsed her but she saw the clip. It was horrific.

"Quit."

"Hm?"

"I want to quit."

Hawks, from the corner of the room saw how much the hero society had held on tightly to your ankles, presented you a bouquet of roses, and then slowly plummeted you into a quicksand of blood. A good metaphor to describe you: a bug caught in a Venus fly trap after a promise that came from the Venus fly trap with it's sweet smell.

The smell of sweet nectar.

A hero with a future promise.

"Honey, there is no quiting. You are the trump card, the ultimate. There's no way you can-"

"Then I'll kill myself over and over again until you let me quit."

The hero commissioner was taken aback by your boldness.

You looked down at the pen resting on her desk. "That pen could easily pierce through skin."

Hawks grabbed it, twirling it between his fingers before he tucked it into his wing. "Don't try anything, kid."

You shrugged. "Could easily throw myself out of the window anyways. Choke on a piece of paper. Swallow my tongue. I'm not going to stop unless you allow me to quit."

"It's very difficult to quit, your case is special. It is nearly impossible to quit. You'd face a lot of repercussion."

"Don't care. I don't care anymore. They could stomp on me for a full day and I could care less. I want to quit. I want to live peacefully and quietly. I'm done. You drained everything from me. I have nothing left to give to you. I lost my mother. My will to live. My home. My life. My childhood. The normalcy of my life was disturbed, and I want nothing more than to return to it."

She folded her hands on her desk and observed you. Fine. If you wanted to face your followers with that pathetic look on your face, she wouldn't care. Pathetic. Disgusting.

"Alright. I'll let you quit immediately. However, I have a condition."

"Take anything else you'd like."

She cleared her throat. "With that normalcy, you'd need to give up your quirk. I can't take it away from you, but I can restrict it. It is a danger to have you roaming the streets without restrictions."

"I'd give it to you if I could." The irony was that you could. Just that you might die. "Just give me the quirk restrictions and leave me alone."

"Your pill bottle." She held out her hand. "And your license."

You gave them both to her. She nodded at Hawks.

"Get up, kid."

You followed him into a room. He pointed to a hospital bed. "Doctor will put restrictions on you. I'll be here so don't worry about being taken advantage of."

You stared at him before smiling. "Thanks."

You were strange.

"Can't blame you for wanting to return to normalcy. Hero work is not for the weak."

"Weak, I may be. But you are too. Weak in so many ways, Hawks."

"How so?" He crossed his arms, leaning against the wall. You were probably offended so you were trying to get back at him.

"How many people have you killed?"

He eyes flickered to you. "Classified."

"Would you kill me if the commissioner asked you to?"

"Maybe."

"Why?"

"My job."

"What if I was innocent?"

"Every person is not innocent. No one can escape sin."

"A child, perhaps?"

He kept quiet.

"The lack of empathy. A cold heart, steeled to pure ice. People are human. They are alive. Breathing, with lives ahead of them. Heroes are people. Alive. Have children. Families. A threat to classified information or even associating with villains give them the immediate death."

Hawks gripped his hands into fists.

"You are a killer. Blood on your hands. Hands on blood."

He suddenly pressed a feather to your neck within seconds. "You have no idea what got me to this point. What I had to endure for this."

"I know, Hawks. I know how or why. You have a tragic past. But what has you holding a grudge against me is not that, but the ability to have sympathy."

He backed away from you. He was about to kill you. In anger. Apathy. Cold heart made of solid ice.

The doctor came in with a metal like block. "This will be in your chest. It isn't heavy, won't restrict you at all for movement."

You shrugged. "Do whatever you want."

Hawks was in the corner, watching the doctor perform surgery. You weren't put under anesthesia. You simply stared at the ceiling. Tired.

Hawks was there the whole time. The block in your chest, the stitching, the packing...

You sat up, putting your shirt back on.

"Look, kid, I'm sorry for shoving a feather near your throat."

"I don't care. Don't care for much anymore. I feel old. Don't need an apology. Just want to get back home."

"Need a ride?"

"No. I'll walk."

Hawks watched you leave. Poor creature. Stripped of everything. Your numbness. It seriously hurt him. You may have been uncaring but you had a lot of sympathy. While he was a hero, he had a lot of apathy.

You truly had a heart of gold.

He wiped a stray tear away before heading back to the hero commissioner's side.

Finally free from the chains of your quirk, you skipped back to the dorms. No longer is the girl with problems. No longer is the girl with trauma.

"Now in. Girl with heart of gold quits after an incident in the United States of America leaves her unstable."

A board on a building announced the the people walking on the street. You stopped and watched the board.

"The girl with the heart of gold is no more, thanks to her selfishness. We have no one to protect us now, her quirk was vital to Japan's survival. Stronger than All Might himself, she could've been the queen piece for us."

People started looking at you.

"Now that we have no trump card, what's next for our hero society? More with Eddie."

You smiled. You were truly free. No blood, no violence, no nothing.

"You're so selfish!"

"You're a girl with a rotten heart!"

"How dare you smile like that when you've just quit?"

"You're a pathetic and disgusting piece of shit!"

You continued smiling, walking back to the dorms as people hurled insults at you. They may tear you down over and over again but no longer do you have to see dead people for them.

A sight not meant for a teenager at the tender age of fifteen.