╰┈➤ 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐍𝐎 𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋 ━━ ❝All these worries about villains and heroes... about quirks and the quirkless... when they should be worried about something far worse... me.❞
𝗜𝗡 𝗪𝗛𝗜𝗖𝗛- you, the once powerful and feared Control Devil, find your...
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━ ⭒─⭑━
The early morning light filtered through the thin curtains of the extra room used to store things, casting long, soft shadows across the cluttered space.
You shuffled inside, careful not to disturb the mess that had accumulated over the years. The scent of old cardboard, dust, and fabric filled the air as you navigated your way past boxes stacked haphazardly, shelves filled with old holiday decorations, and plastic containers overflowing with childhood memorabilia.
Your arm still rested in the sling despite you being fine and only a little sore. Your mother, and surprisingly Bakugo, had both insisted you keep it on until you 'fully healed.'
The white fabric stood out against your school uniform—crisp navy blazer and pleated skirt—an outfit that felt oddly formal in this disheveled, almost forgotten part of the house.
You moved slowly, wincing slightly as you reached up with your good hand, sifting through various shelves, looking for your Mei's sewing kit. It had to be here somewhere, tucked between the clutter and the forgotten memories.
A sigh escaped your lips as you bent down, pushing aside a stack of old books and magazines that nearly toppled over.
Then you saw it, nestled above a broken draw. As you walked over to grab it, your gaze landed on a medium-sized brown box, half-hidden beside the draw next to a pile of mismatched fabric scraps and a broken coat rack.
It was dusty, the kind of dust that suggested years of neglect, the cardboard slightly sagging at the corners. Something about it felt out of place—like it was hiding in plain sight, waiting for someone to notice.
You hesitated before brushing the dust off with your fingers, the gray residue clinging to your skin. Carefully, you pulled open one of the flaps. Inside were random child items—small toys, a stuffed bear missing an eye, and some clothes too tiny to belong to anyone else in the house now.
You blinked. These things—they could have been yours.
Right in the middle of the box was a picture. It lay atop the other items, the edges slightly curled with age. You picked it up gently, your eyes focusing on the image.
It showed three figures: two adults and a baby.
Your parents, so much younger—your mother's hair longer, her smile bright and carefree, your father with a playful glint in his eyes that you hadn't seen before. They looked happy, radiant in a way that seemed almost foreign now.
The baby was nestled between them, but before you could get a good look at its face, a familiar voice broke the stillness.
"____, did you find it yet, sweetie?" Your mother's voice echoed from upstairs. "If not, don't stress yourself. I can fetch it myself after dropping you head off to school. Oh! We can go summer clothes shopping!"
