- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ 𝟗 - 𝐢 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤. ❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌

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"I'm bitter, physically, emotionally, in every sense of the word, and I have every intention to remain that way."

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To pick at the loose threads of a poorly cared for cardigan is like begging for it to be unwound, no matter how anxious or how little you may be thinking as you pick at it, just as picking at your skin, or your hair, or your nails, slowly causes pain to your body.

If you're too distracted to know what you're doing, you'll begin bleeding before you know it, more and more over time, until the frayed cardigan is covered in splotches of vermillion, staining the sunshine yellow color of it so badly that it may not be salvageable.

But isn't that just how coping works, you pick and you pick until there's nothing left, because what is there to do, but pick.

And as the sound of keyboards clacking resonated through the brightly lit room, that is just what Haru Shira Aizawa did, carpet sinking beneath her mud-stained sneakers.

Standing in this spot took her back to a much more complicated time, two years prior, she was still a foot shorter than her father, and... most people.

she looked the same in so many ways, her skin was the same, her hands were the same, her cardigan was the same, yet so many other things have changed.

Now she stands eleven inches taller, just an inch shorter than her father, every last god awful teal streak in her hair dyed over, her eyes being a golden, sun-like yellow, just like her father's shift to be when he uses his quirk.

and when he looks at her, he doesn't see a single remnant of her mother, not anymore.

It was disheartening, knowing his daughter, his ball of sunshine, could hold so much hatred for someone she had never known, knowing she could hold so much hatred at all this early on.

"You can go now, dad." empty. her voice was empty, her eyes were empty, she's empty.

When her poorly painted nails weren't picking at her sleeves, they were pulling at the hem of her skirt, desperately trying to keep herself covered to some degree.

tongue in cheek, eyes narrowed, shirt untucked, tie untied, hair undone.

she had already given up, because she didn't even make it through the large doors before getting dragged away, she didn't even make it through the extremely secure gate that could kill a man, before getting dragged away.

𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐙 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐎𝐔𝐓 ☆ 𝐁𝐍𝐇𝐀Where stories live. Discover now