❝Stars Aligned❞ » Katsuki Bakugou x Fem!Reader

89

You squeezed your eyes shut.

This isn't real.

But when you opened them, his reflection was still there.. pale skin, white-blue hair, those bloodshot eyes watching you with lazy disinterest, like a ghost who'd grown bored of haunting you but kept showing up anyway.

"Y'know," Shigaraki muttered, dragging his fingertips down your shoulder like he was brushing dust off a prized possession.

"You're not all that different from me anymore." You didn't move, you couldn't even if you tried.

"You're deteriorating," he whispered next to your ear, almost feeling his breath fan over your skin.

"From the inside out. Just like I did. Only difference is, no one's pulling your strings. You're doing this all on your own." You tried to shake him off, hoping he would just disappear but he didn't.

"You're not real. You're just a side effect. A glitch." He laughed, that gravelly, dry sound curling around your throat like smoke.

"Sure. Blame the meds, the quirk, the stress. Blame me if it helps you sleep. But let's be honest, princess..." His reflection leaned closer, smirking in the mirror like it knew you better than you knew yourself and in some ways, it did because this was just your head playing tricks on you.

"You've been seeing me long before you started shooting up." His hands rested flat on your shoulders again, squeezing them tightly and this time it felt a little too real.

"No," you rasped, setting the needle down on the counter like it was suddenly burning through your hand.

"No, I've moved on." You said in a way where you were more so trying to convince yourself.

"Then why am I here?" he asked, head tilting. You couldn't answer that question right away.

"Why do I keep showing up every time your hands start to shake? Every time you forget who you are, or wake up and can't breathe without help?" You gripped the sink, knuckles white, breath uneven.

"You're not real."

"You keep saying that." He smiled, a cruel mimicry of comfort.

"But your brain's rotting, Y/N. Every time you use our power. You're losing time, losing control, and guess what? It's only gonna get worse. She said so herself, your brain is consumed by the parasite." He stepped closer behind you, his reflection right over your shoulder now. You could feel him breathing against your neck but that wasn't possible. It couldn't be. It has to be your imagination.

"The doc gave you a bandaid," he whispered.

"A needle and a lie to keep you calm. But she knows. This fusion? It's not a merge. It's a fucking infection." You were shaking now, and not from fear but anger. He's only saying this because it's your head trying to play tricks, trying to drive you crazy to the point where your quirk boiled under your skin, causing a faint glow to it.

"I'm not like you." You mumbled, your eyes bright red from the pain and tears welling up.

"You're exactly like me," he hissed.

"Why do you think I kept showing up? Because some part of me never left. And you let it grow. You let her inject me into you because you wanted more power." Your vision blurred, rage and grief clashing behind your eyes. You spun to face him, but there was no one there.

"I just wanted my fucking quirk back." You snapped but the bathroom was empty, silent.

The mirror still held his shape for a split second longer, smiling, before it flickered out like a dying flame, and you were left staring at your own reflection: pale, exhausted, the whites of your eyes a little too red. Your hands hovered over the needle again. It sat there like a secret weapon and a death sentence rolled into one. You shouldn't. But your fingers curled around it anyway.