𝗥𝗜𝗦𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗧𝗜𝗗𝗘𝗦 ⌈𝐈⌔𝐌 ✗ 𝔽!𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑬𝑹⌋

Chapter 103

CHAPTER 103: Fighting for the Future

Debris rains like ash. Smoke coils through the air, thick and suffocating, clinging to your lungs with every breath. Your legs are trembling. Your arms ache. The battlefield is a wreck of fire, ice, water, and ruin—but you're still standing.

Barely.

Across the chaos, Izuku is still locked in a vicious clash with Shigaraki. You see flashes of green lightning slicing through the haze. His silhouette blurs with every hit he takes, every time he throws himself back into the fight, as if the pain doesn’t matter—because to him, it doesn’t. All that matters is stopping Shigaraki.

You want to help him. Gods, you do.

But your fight isn’t over.

Not when Yumi—Hydrax—stands in front of you like a nightmare made real. Her corrupted water writhes in the air, tainted with that eerie black shimmer, twisting like it wants to devour everything it touches. She’s barely even breathing hard.

You, on the other hand, can feel yourself unraveling.

“Look at you,” she says, her voice low and bitter. “Still standing like you think any of this is going to mean something. Like throwing yourself in front of the fire is going to make up for what they did.”

You tighten your grip on the water flowing around your hands. Controlled. Sharp. Clean. The opposite of hers.

“I’m not trying to make up for them,” you say, breathless but steady. “I’m trying to stop you.”

Yumi’s eyes narrow, cold and shining with something that looks like grief twisted into rage. “Of course you are,” she spits. “Perfect little Y/N, always trying to fix things. Always trying to be the hero. But you don’t get it—you never did. You didn’t see what it was like when the fire came. You didn’t hear me scream.”

Her voice cracks, just for a second. But it’s gone as fast as it came.

“You know what I remember?” she goes on, stepping closer. Her water spirals tighter, more aggressive, clawing at the ground like fingers. “I remember thinking, they’ll come back for me. I remember waiting. I remember choking on smoke and praying that Mom or Dad—or even you—would break down the door. But no one did. You all ran.”

You stagger a step back, her words hitting harder than her attacks.

“We thought you were dead,” you whisper. “We didn’t know—you were gone—we grieved you, Yumi. I grieved you every day.”

“And yet here you are,” she growls, “still carrying their name. Still pretending like they were heroes. Still playing the role they handed you like a script.”

She lifts her hands—and the water moves with her, a tidal wall of dark, monstrous force.

“I’m not like you, Y/N. I stopped pretending a long time ago.”

The wave comes crashing forward, roaring like it wants to tear the earth apart.

But you don’t run. You don’t falter.

You bend.

Your own water rises, colliding with hers in a deafening explosion of force and pressure. The impact rattles your bones, the ground shuddering beneath you. It takes everything just to stay standing.

And still, you speak—louder this time.

“You think you’re the only one who hurt?” you shout, pushing your voice past the roar. “You think I didn’t blame myself? I was eight, Yumi! I didn’t understand what happened—I thought I lost you forever. And I never stopped looking. I never stopped hoping you were out there somewhere.”