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⪼ 𝚆𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚋𝚘𝚛𝚗 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜. 𝚆𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍.⪻
Hanae Yami's childhood had been a rough one. Cast aside, abused and tormented, she took to hiding in the shadows, her safe zone. But the dark ca...
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Recommended song: F E R A L- by Bad Omens
c/w: parricide
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Yami let out a snort at the news she was watching. Shigaraki had made his mark at USJ and failed terribly at his goal. She pressed her cigarette into the ashtray, making a move to leave. She'd been stalling for the past couple of hours and once changed her mind and decided not to go, but today was the perfect day for what she wanted to do.
"You're leaving already?" Nori asked.
"Aww, man, I thought we were going to order pizza." Ryosuke jutted his lip out.
"I'm not stopping you from getting pizza," Yami deadpanned, "I've got stuff to do."
Yami left the room, starting her bike and throwing her leg over it with a sigh. Today was her father dearest's birthday. That meant paying him a secret visit. She put on her helmet and went invisible, zooming through the city. She didn't have her guns on her right now, but she did have her knives. She didn't need to carry guns today since she did not have any jobs. She just kept her knives and a vial of paralyzing poison just in case.
She parked the bike a little away from the neighbourhood to not raise any suspicion. She pulled her mask up, raven eyes alert as they darted around. She became one with the dark, staying invisible wherever she could. The last time she came here was when she met Toya in the abandoned house. She couldn't go there anymore since it was already rented out.
Light on her feet, she crept into the backyard of the place she once called home. She wasn't sure home was the right word. It was never her home. Home wasn't a place where you cowered in fear of your own family. Therefore, this wasn't her home. It was simply where her bad memories resided.
She let the wire shoot out of the bangle on her wrist, wrapping around the railings of her balcony. She let it pull her up and climbed into the balcony. The door was locked. She muttered a curse, digging into the pockets of her utility vests, hoping the lockpick was still in there. She found it and quickly glanced around before fiddling with the lock. It clicked open.
She slipped inside, letting her eyes adjust to the dark. Her room was still the same as she remembered, but what surprised her was that there were children's story books on her empty bookshelves. Her eyes shifted to the bed with fresh sheets. Was this room in use now? She walked around, her fingers lingering on her study desk. This place was her last resort after being beaten and abused mentally. Little Yami thought this was a fortress. It wasn't.
A few papers on the desk caught her eye. She picked them up, seeing a picture of a little boy stapled on the corner. Her eyebrows furrowed as she read through the details of the form. It was an adoption paper. Yami's eyes widened, her thumbs denting the once smooth paper. Her parents were adopting a kid?
