From The Ashes | Bakugo x Fem! Reader

𝙊 𝙉 𝙀

𝘐𝘯 𝘊𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘵𝘺

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The world around her is a realm of muted sensation, a thick, sluggish sea of warmth pressing in from all sides. The liquid envelops her completely, dulling the edges of her body and floating her in an indifferent, weightless suspension. Tubes and wires snake across her limbs, connected to machines outside the tank that hum steadily in a lifeless monotony, sustaining her without her knowing. She doesn't hear the rhythmic blips of monitors or the hissing of valves adjusting the chemical balance in the tank. If she could, she might hear the faint buzz of generators feeding the machinery that keeps her breathing, that keeps her stable, that keeps her from waking up.

Inside her mind, however, she is far from stable.

Flashes of blue burn in her memory like embers, flickering to life in the dark. At first, the images are faint, as if she were viewing them through fogged glass. She sees the house, her house, with its familiar walls and rooms, its cluttered warmth. Then the fog sharpens, clears, and the flickers of blue burst into flames that eat away at everything they touch.

The fire spreads, moving in swift, merciless streaks across the walls, curling around the floorboards and swallowing furniture in a ravenous embrace. And there—there stands her father, Hiroshi Tsubaki, a shadow against the brightness, his hand outstretched, his jaw set in defiance. She can see the toll on his face, the strain as his breathing quickens, his shoulders heaving with effort to hold back the encroaching flames. His quirk, Oblivion, pulses around him, distorting the air with its invisible field, momentarily keeping the blue inferno at bay.

But even in her nightmare, she knows what happens next. His heart falters, betrays him in his hour of need, and the shimmering shield of his quirk flickers out. Her father stumbles, a moment's lapse, and the blue flames close in, a wall of destruction that devours him in a burst of light and heat. His face, caught in a final look of anguish and love, dissolves into smoke, and the vision shifts violently to her mother.

Emiko's face, her eyes wide with terror, her hand reaching out for something unseen. Her quirk, Restoration, strains to heal, to protect, to reverse the damage tearing through her home, but the fire is relentless. It laughs in the heat, mocking every touch of Emiko's hands as they attempt to soothe, to calm, to undo what's already been done. And in a last, desperate act, she pushes her son, Renji, behind her, trying to shield him, her only remaining strength.

But the fire doesn't care about kindness. The blue flames seize her, twist her, turn her into ash as Renji's cry echoes, a horrified, choked scream that tears through the inferno. And then—then it is her brother's turn, his face shadowed in horror, his mouth forming her name, trying to call to her, to reach her, to save her in any way he can.

(Y/n), muffled and faint, barely reaches her as she drifts in the tank. It hovers in her mind, like the sound of someone calling from behind closed doors, until it is swallowed up by darkness once more.

And then, a faint sensation—a tightening around her wrist, cold metal digging into her skin. She can almost feel it there, the bracelet she'd worn since childhood, the one that suppressed her quirk, that kept her power under control. She remembers fumbling with it, struggling to unlock it in those last desperate seconds as the flames drew near. Her fingers were trembling, clumsy, and the clasp wouldn't budge. Her heart thundered as the heat surged closer, the fires dancing in her vision, and her last thought, before it all faded to black, was of failure. Of being too weak, too late to save her family.

Back in the dimly lit laboratory, the machinery continues to hum, its cold efficiency unfazed by the memories raging within her unconscious mind. Beyond the sealed doors, heroes gather in preparation, their faces grim, their voices low. The Hero Public Safety Commission has assembled the best of them, briefed them on the girl locked away behind the concrete walls, sealed in the bio-reactor. They know her story; they know her age, her history, her loss.

The profile glows on the screen in front of All Might and Aizawa, her name written at the top, followed by a terse description of her quirk, The Conductor. The quirk, they know, is a rare and dangerous mixture of her parents' powers—a potential force of obliteration and restoration in equal measure, should she ever gain full control of it. Or worse, should it fall into the wrong hands.

Aizawa studies her file, his brows drawn, eyes flicking over the details of her abduction, her containment, the League of Villains' suspected intentions. All Might stands beside him, his face shadowed, a steely resolve set in his eyes. It's more than just a rescue; it's a mission to save a girl who has endured the unimaginable. And beyond that, it's their responsibility to prevent a power like hers from being used to tip the scales of humanity.

Inside the tank, her mind stirs again. The nightmares coil, stretching long shadows that twist and distort, blending her memories into an endless blur of sorrow and rage. Faces flicker and vanish, voices rise and fall, and the blue flames continue to burn, relentless and unyielding. And in the murky depths of the bio-reactor, (Y/n) floats, unaware of the storm building just outside her prison. She is a soul trapped in limbo, suspended between the past that haunts her and the future that awaits.

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