PAPER FLOWERS ( k. bakugou )

chapter 3

' nothing like a black heart beating '

━━━━━

Kaede's heart had beat again that night, from the sibilant sounds to the pounding of the drums.

Rhythmic and erratic. And not from the foolish fancies she ensconced herself with, but at the realistic prospect of things to come. What she was made to do.

Raincoat worn over her body, she traipses through the rat infested alleyways along with the scorched, burnt man named Dabi. Rainshowers had been a constant for the past few days, almost as if someone had willed the heavens to tears. Maybe it was the Symbol of Peace disappearing, but whatever happened, whatever pushed things this far, this different, this was only the beginning.

Tears or not, grieving or in celebration, Kaede still can't find it in her to tolerate the rain. That wet, sticky feeling meshing with engine exhaust and smog clinging to pavements and asphalt roads.

"Lady," Dabi called, hands on his pockets. "I believe we should walk faster. At this rate, those idiots will all be gone."

"Oh shut up," she intones, never speeding up. Water had begun its early stages of flooding so the moment she walks faster, applies more force, droplets of rainwater would begin splashing on her calves. She doesn't want that. "I counted properly. We'll be there on time."

"Tomura's told me about your quirk and your proclivity to count, but I don't trust biased judgments," he said, looked at her feet which barely disturbed the water. "You obviously have something against the rain."

Kaede rolls her eyes. These days, Tomoe dying was more of consequences than benefits. She hated partnering with someone as rude and bossy as Dabi. Those two traits were prominent parts of Kaede and true to her hypocrisy, she hates rudeness and bossiness when it's not from her.

Kaede was a fucking hypocrite, so what?

She eyes him with a calculated gaze, the rotting ( scorched? burnt? ) flesh that occupied half of his body, those dead eyes and dark clothes and she wonders if he pulled his skin back from his fingers to achieve this cold visage and she thinks what if she does it too, grasp the edges of her fingernails and tear it all the way to the skin. Maybe she'll see something worth the pain, maybe half marble half ice from all the frigidity she carried in her bosom like a bereaved goddess ( demeter, when will you bring back spring? ) or maybe it's rotting flesh and crimson blood laced with bruises and scratches, worthy of a human who wore the guise of a monster and struggled in the process. She takes another step forward.

"There," she said instead of cursing. If only Tomura didn't demand the safety of his members, she'd undoubtedly slash his neck and damn the consequences of being burnt to ash, the satisfaction would always win her over. "I see them. Just local thugs. I reckon people will get suspicious if you burn them immediately, so let's have them kill each other. We'll make the last one standing vanish."

"I don't suppose your quirk can help with that," he said, gave her a smirk, but she smirked back and it was overflowing with a kind of conceit that made onlookers want to punch the forsaken source.

"Watch me," she said, discarded the raincoat, cringed at the feel of the rain against her skin and in the span of four minutes and eleven seconds, the raincoat was on Dabi's grasps and she was walking towards the thugs, a cordial, disarming smile on her face.

Her time as Yuko brought her a lot of heartache, tons and tons, but there were also advantages. The most obvious: information. And the other added benefits. She'd learned a special move- something everyone could do, but almost impossible to perfect. Pale lips raised at edges, hollow presence. A smile to disarm and a presence that warded suspicions away.