𝑩𝑨𝑫 𝑨𝑷𝑷𝑳𝑬 | ˢ.ᵗᵒᵈᵒʳᵒᵏⁱ ˣ ᵒᵖ!ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ ˣ ᵏ.ᵇᵃᵏᵘᵍᵒ

𝐂 𝐇 𝐀 𝐏 𝐓 𝐄 𝐑 𝐒 𝐈 𝐗

Chapter Six: Alone with thoughts

WALKING HOME FROM THE BAKUGOS  left a sour taste in your mouth. Their family was so perfectly imperfect, with the timid Masuru trying to calm his hotheaded wife and son — in some ways it was comical, yet turned your heart green with envy. Oh how you wished you could argue with your sisters like that. Come home and cook them dinner; then eat around one table. But instead you were left alone. Day in, day out, until the opportunity of learning under Mirko was presented to you.

Yet somehow, ever since you'd joined her agency as a student, you'd never felt more alone. Being able to meet so many people, who had already formed lifelong bonds left you out of sorts with the world — simply a background character waiting to be given meaning.

Waiting.

You'd had enough of waiting. Why did it take your sister handing an opportunity to you on a silver platter to finally get off your ass and do something with yourself? It made you realise how out of control you were of your own life — you lacked initiative; you lacked a goal.

And as you were given a taste of all these seemingly unreachable things, everything seemed to fall together, perhaps not quite developed enough as to be called a 'goal', but it was definitely a start.

You didn't want to be a background character anymore. You wanted to be known as Saishou Y/N, not for being the sister of the Tempest, or the girlfriend of Hawks, or for anyone else who was not yourself. Fame, money, power, family. You wanted it all. You wanted to spend thousands on golden jewellery like Mirko; have them decorate your body like a temple. You wanted to feel that sense of accomplishment you felt whenever you tackled your mentor to the ground, and you wanted to be praised for it. And maybe if you did all these things: had the money, had the fame, the power, maybe then you'd be loveable enough for your sisters to never leave you again.

You let out a wistful sigh at the thought, suddenly feeling disgusted by your self-piteous mindset, as a gentle breeze combed through your hair. Such warm weather wasn't common in February, but perhaps it was a good omen.

You snorted at the idea — not really being much of a believer in superstition. Opening your phone you glanced at the newly received message from your mentor. She never usually texted this late. Strange.

After staring at your phone for what felt like hours — whereas in reality was more like thirty seconds — you began trudging towards the city centre, not really noticing as the suburban landscape eroded around you, slowly being replaced with towering skyscrapers and flashing lights. Soon enough you found yourself crossing that familiar street, stepping into that familiar hallway and descending down that dreaded elevator. The door pinged open in time with your grumbling stomach, causing a look of sheer annoyance to spread across your face.

Whatever she's called me here for, better be damned good.