𝟑𝟔: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐫: 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 - "𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬".

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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐫: 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 - "𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬".

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𝐲𝐨𝐮

the day felt endless, and the air was thick with the suffocating scent of ash and burning flesh. dabi's flames had left scars—not only on the bodies of those he touched but deep in my soul. my own body felt shattered, cradled by an aching, searing pain, but my mind clung desperately to the last faint tendrils of awareness. i could feel hawks beside me—still and silent, his once-bright wings battered and torn worse than i'd ever seen.

tokoyami had appeared like a shadow breaking through the chaos, his dark silhouette blending with the ruin left in dabi's wake. his heart raced, fear carving into his chest as he found one of the people who meant the most to him lying broken and still in the aftermath. dark shadow unfurled protectively, he had taken us away from the scene, ready to guard us from any further threats.

"sensei..." tokoyami muttered, his voice rough with panic as he looked down at hawks. he had never seen his mentor this vulnerable, this defeated. but he couldn't let himself freeze up; there was no time. my own voice struggled to surface, cracking as i tried to focus on his face.

"tsukuyomi...?" i whispered, barely managing to get the words out. every inch of my body screamed in agony, but i needed to make sure hawks was okay.

"i'm here," tokoyami's voice was steady but strained. "we're almost somewhere safe. just hold on." yet i could sense his urgency, his own panic barely contained. he had lifted hawks onto his back and carefully wrapped me in dark shadow's embrace, his focus singular: getting us both to safety.

as tokoyami carried us, my mind drifted in and out of painful memories, fragments of moments slipping through the haze, some grounding me to life, others filling me with a bittersweet ache.

the first memory that came was of touya, and we were maybe eleven years old, outside his family's house, huddled in the dim light just after sunset. he was practically buzzing, his hands lit with small, flickering flames that cast warm glows across his face.

"watch this," he whispered, as if the night itself was our secret. he'd been practicing a set of moves he'd come up with himself, eager to show me. he bent low, holding his hands steady as he unleashed controlled bursts of fire with each movement, a fierce, focused look on his face.

"you're gonna get caught if you keep this up," i whispered back, even though i couldn't look away. my heart beat with a mix of worry and awe—he was amazing, and yet... he was pushing himself too far, too soon. "your mom's gonna notice the scorch marks tomorrow."

𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 ⟢ 𝘁. 𝘁𝗼𝗱𝗼𝗿𝗼𝗸𝗶/𝗱𝗮𝗯𝗶Where stories live. Discover now