RESURGENCE - MHA x FReader

Chapter II: DILEMMA

SATURDAY, 12:12 AM; SHIZUOKA PREFECTURE, JAPAN

.....

Y/N's eyes fluttered open, the sterile smell of antiseptic and the cold, unfamiliar environment of the hospital room assaulting her senses.

A wave of confusion and fear washed over her tiny, helpless form.

She couldn't speak, couldn't walk—she was a baby, and the only thing she could do was cry.

Tears streamed down her chubby cheeks as she lay in a sterile hospital crib, her mind racing with questions she couldn't articulate.

"Such a healthy baby," a nurse cooed, smiling down at her with a warmth that did little to ease her turmoil.

....

Days blurred together as she found herself in a new home with strangers who claimed to be her parents.

They looked at her with love, but...

Who were they?

And why was she stuck in the body of an infant?

This had to be a dream, right?

A bizarre, vivid dream she couldn't wake up from.

She slept, ate, and did everything a normal baby would do.

Her "dad" always wore a white coat—clearly a doctor—and her "mom" stayed with her all day, doting on her every need.

They seemed like a normal couple, but nothing felt right.

Questions gnawed at her insides.

Are lucid dreams supposed to last this long?

She had heard of lucid dreams—those fleeting moments of awareness within the realm of sleep—but this... this felt different, more vivid, more real.

What's really happening here?

Why couldn't she wake up?

As the questions multiplied and the answers remained elusive, she felt herself teetering on the edge of sanity.

Then, one day, everything started to make sense.

Her "dad" trudged through the door, weariness etched into every line of his face. Dropping his keys onto the table with a tired thud, he turned to her "mom" with a heavy sigh.

"Today was tough," he muttered, his voice strained with exhaustion.

"We had a patient come in—a victim of a villain attack. He was lucky to be alive, but the damage... it's going to take time."

Her "mom" listened intently, her expression a mix of concern and empathy.

"Is he going to be okay?" she asked softly, her voice laced with worry.

Her "dad" nodded, though the weariness in his eyes betrayed his reassurance.

"He'll pull through," he replied, though the weight of the day's events lingered heavily upon his shoulders. 

Villain?

She heard that right, didn't she? Why would they use such a dramatic term to describe a criminal? That was odd.

Really odd.

Later that evening, the news broadcasted, illuminating the living room with the glow of the television screen. A massive man with an equally muscular and well-defined physique appeared. Tall, blonde, and imposing.