Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
❟❛❟ CHAPTER FIFTY FOUR ❟❛❟
THE FIRST THING SHE SAW WHEN HER EYES FLUTTERED open was a sterile white ceiling. Definitely not her room. Muted footsteps echoed beyond the door, accompanied by the soft beeping of machines and the gentle drip of an IV. A clock ticked steadily, announcing the hour: 8 a.m.
Akame blinked slowly, her lashes brushing against her cheeks as she took in the sterile air. She wasn't sure if she should feel relieved... or devastated.
So... it was just a dream?
She sat up, movements careful and slow, her joints aching with stiffness. Her right hand tugged lightly at the IV line as she swung her legs over the edge of the bed, feet slipping into hospital-issued slippers.
She felt them. Even without opening the door, even without seeing them—she knew. Todoroki. Bakugou. They were here. Not in this room, but close. On the same floor, down the same corridor.
A soft breath escaped her lips, half a sigh, half a prayer. Relief pooled quietly in her chest.
Reaching for the remote on her nightstand, she pressed the button with a faint click. Mechanical hums followed as the window shades pulled open, letting in a flood of morning light.
Tokyo sparkled beyond the glass—buzzing with life, endless motion, a city that never stopped. But Akame's eyes weren't on the skyline. Her gaze locked on the mirror across the room. The reflection startled her.
Her hair had been neatly braided—tightly, meticulously, as if someone had cared enough to do it every day she'd been unconscious. She wore light blue hospital pajamas. Her face wasn't pale or ghostly, but alive and healthy.
But one thing had caught her off guard. Her right eye. It glowed faintly with a deep, ominous hue. Violet. Etched with concentric rings.
Rinnegan.
"What is this...?" she whispered.
It didn't feel like part of her quirk. It wasn't a mutation. It wasn't an upgrade. It was something... different, yet familiar.
Slowly, she raised her free hand in front of her face. Her fingertips trembled as a long-forgotten sensation stirred beneath her skin. Not just energy. Not just a quirk.
Chakra. Her own chakra.
She could feel it pulsing through her veins again. Raw and familiar. Her heart stuttered. No wonder she can see more clearly and feel everything.
No... don't tell me... Hashirama?
Who else but him? How could she regain her former chakra?
