shiru ka [overhaul x reader]

༄.° tomura shigaraki

The next morning, Y/n woke to the soft light of dawn filtering through her curtains, the city outside still waking up. For a moment, she lay there in silence, staring at the ceiling, her mind replaying the events of the previous night. The clean kill, the satisfaction, the darkness that had settled over her so naturally. It was as though nothing had changed. But here, in the light of day, there was a small, lingering emptiness—a faint reminder of the person she used to be.

She sighed, pushing those thoughts aside. She had things to do today.

She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood, stretching her limbs. The soreness from her training session with Hawks still clung to her muscles, but she moved through it, determined to shake off any signs of weakness. Today wasn't a day for reflection—it was a day to put on her mask, the other one, the one that made her appear ordinary.

Y/n made her way to the bathroom, splashing cold water on her face. She stared at herself in the mirror for a long moment. Her dark hair was slightly tousled from sleep, and her eyes, though sharp and alert, carried the weight of everything she had done, both in the past and the present. But none of that could show. Not today.

She brushed out her hair, smoothing it down before tying it up into a neat bun. Her makeup was light but flawless, concealing the weariness beneath. She picked out a simple outfit—a long black skirt, a tucked-in black turtleneck, and a beige trench coat. She looked every bit the part of a sophisticated city girl, not the cold-blooded assassin who had taken a life just hours ago.

With one last glance at the mirror, She nodded to herself. Ready. As if nothing had happened.

The walk to the cemetery was a quiet one. The rain had stopped, leaving behind a cool breeze that swept through the streets, stirring fallen leaves. She kept her pace steady, her hands in her coat pockets as she passed by the familiar neighbourhood near where she used to live. It had been years since she had returned to this part of the city, and the memories of her childhood tugged at her, unbidden.

But there was one memory in particular that called her back. One she couldn't ignore.

Y/n reached the small cemetery just as the wind picked up again, rustling through the trees and casting a chill over the stone markers. She knew the path by heart, weaving through the rows of graves until she stopped in front of one she had visited countless times before.

Her best friend's grave.

The name engraved on the stone was worn but still visible—Yumi Sasaki. Y/n's chest tightened at the sight, the familiar pang of loss returning like it always did. Yumi had been her rock, her confidante, the one person she could always count on. But now, she was nothing more than a memory carved in stone.

She knelt down, her fingers brushing against the cold marble. She sat there in silence for a moment, letting the breeze carry away the weight of the world. Here, in this quiet corner of the cemetery, she allowed herself to feel vulnerable. To remember.