(Bakugo and Katsuki x OC)
MHA Fanfiction
In a desperate attempt to break a curse inflicted by the Demon King, Liora- a dimensional blade witch- embarks on a forbidden journey across universes. Her only hope lies in capturing the soul of Bakugo Katsu...
Rain poured relentlessly over Yokohama, drenching the city streets as the hour struck midnight. The downpour was deafening, the streets flooded with umbrellas that scurried for shelter. In an instant, the streets emptied. Pedestrians and night owls found refuge in the warm, dimly lit coffee shops and bars lining the perimeter of Ground Zero in Kamino Ward. No one lingered long outside—not in this weather, and certainly not near the eerie site of past destruction.
But then, the night was torn apart.
A crackle of energy flickered in the air, a rift glowing with an intense orange-red light ripped through the rain-soaked sky. It hovered for a breathless moment before splitting open, and from the tear in reality, a woman stepped through.
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She was striking—her white kimono clung to her, drenched by the rain. Her long, ivory hair cascaded down her back, water streaming down the strands. Atop her head sat a crown of jagged horns that gleamed ominously in the fleeting light of passing cars. As she walked, the rain seemed to bend around her, almost unwilling to touch her fully. Her orange eyes burned like embers, scanning her surroundings with a piercing gaze.
Inside one of the coffee shops, patrons who had been engrossed in their quiet conversations suddenly fell silent. The glass windows fogged up from the warm interior, but the presence of the woman outside demanded their attention. They whispered among themselves, glancing nervously at the ghostly figure moving with purpose through the rain.
"Is she... one of them?" one person murmured, eyes wide with uncertainty.
"Maybe a villain? Should we call someone?"
But no one moved. The figure in white walked with eerie calm, her fiery eyes passing over the crowd as if searching for something—or someone.
She pushed open the door of a small coffee shop, the soft chime of the bell overhead barely audible over the rain. Inside, the warmth of the café contrasted sharply with the icy presence of the woman. The patrons stiffened, eyes wide with fear and curiosity. The barista's hand froze on the coffee machine, spilling milk onto the counter as she stared at the strange visitor.
The woman's gaze swept across the café, her fiery eyes cold and calculating. With deliberate grace, she approached the nearest person, a young man nervously gripping his coffee. She held out a hand-drawn picture, slightly worn from travel, and covered half of it with her fingers, revealing only the face of a blonde man. "Recognize him?" she asked, her voice steady and commanding. "Where is he?"
She moved through the café, showing the drawing to anyone who dared meet her eyes. Silence fell like a shroud, and the tension was suffocating. The barista, who had been trying to steady herself enough to clean up the spilled milk, stopped, her hand frozen mid-air. She dared not speak.
Just then, the television on the wall blared a breaking news report. A robbery was in progress not far from the café, the shaky footage capturing a chase unfolding in the streets. The scene was chaotic, the camera struggling to keep up with the action, but four figures could be seen in pursuit of a speeding van. One wore a white hero costume, phasing effortlessly through obstacles; another was a blur of green lightning, zigzagging in quick pursuit; a third left a trail of ice across the road; and the last, a figure with a mop of blonde hair, propelled himself forward with deafening explosions.
