Goddess of Creation(Momo x Male Reader)

Chapter 27 | Bitter Revaluations

(Y/N) POV:

"Your quirk is a monstrosity of an ability," Aunt Kaya growled with a cold, blank stare. (Y/N)'s eyes widened, a sharp spike of fear wrapping around and surging down his spine. His legs started to bounce up and down rapidly, the nervous energy becoming more difficult to maintain.

"That's enough," Aizawa shouted, standing up from his seat with a new found determination in his eyes. "You have no right to tell my student something like that, especially one who is your own nephew," he scolded.

Kaya straightened her back slowly, crossing her arms, closing off her body and emotions from the two. She had little care for (Y/N). Being blood related had no effect on her. All she cared about was protecting her family, not her brothers, no matter how she had to do it.

"Oh really? Let me ask you something, then, are you familiar with the quirk doomsday theory?"

Aizawa frowned, but only for a moment. He had no desire to let this woman scare his student. "I am. It's a ludicrous and highly improbable possibility designed to scare the public. Cause discourse and social unrest."

Kaya huffed, raising her chin and looking further down at Aizawa. "I won't refute its purpose, of course it was designed to cause fear. But that doesn't mean it's not true."

(Y/N) stayed silent, still trying to process what Aunt Kaya had said about his quirk. He always knew it was dangerous, it killed his parents after all. But from all the recent support from UA and class 1-A he started to believe he could use it for good. Now he knew the truth.

"Don't let her get in your head, (Y/N)," Aizawa comforted.

"Trust me, I don't want to upset him. I just want him to know the truth. If he can't handle it, that's not my problem." Aunt Kaya stomped back to the lounge and took another swig of whisky. "It's only fair."

My Aizawa's face scrunched inward, his eyebrows becoming narrow and the creases of age deepening. "You act so high and mighty, yet you haven't explained at all what makes you believe this."

"Fair," she replied, "but it's a long story. You sure you wanna hear it?"

"We didn't come out all this way for nothing."

Kaya huffed, took one final gulp of her drink and leaned back into the lounge. "When you were young, (Y/N), your mother noticed how you showed properties of multiple quirks, like you'd inherited both of your parents' quirks, but not in a combination like most kids with mixed quirks. She ran some tests, did some training, and found that your quirk was a strange mix of not just two, but four quirks."

"What were those quirks?" Mr Aizawa asked directly.

She stared at him, an obviously annoyed twitch in her eye. "The first was Dismantle, which allows the user to separate two combined objects into two different objects. Then there was Link, pretty much the opposite of Dismantle, allowing the user to combine two separate objects into one. The third quirk was Alter, which allows the user to change the properties of an object. And lucky last is Harm, which allows the user to enhance physical and mental injuries," she paused, letting the information sink in before adding, "each one of those quirks was owned by someone in your bloodline."

Overwhelmed by the bombardment of information, (Y/N) sat on the lounge staring blankly through the crystal clear coffee table, spying a basket filled with educational toys designed for a toddler. Among the basket was a small brown teddy bear very similar to the one he owned, admittedly in much better condition. He wanted to reach out and grab the plush toy, squeeze it tightly until all his worries were transferred into it. But he knew he couldn't. It would only make things worse. As much as he wanted to find comfort in the plush bear, it wouldn't make everything go away. It wouldn't make him disappear and be transported to a safer place, and it certainly wouldn't help with the reason why (Y/N) had come all out all this way in the first place. So he trapped his anxieties deep inside his mind, locked it away and threw away the key into an endless river of awful memories.