Villainous [Hitoshi Shinso X Reader]

[Epilogue]: Villainous

3 months later

The soles of my sneakers squeaked loudly against the metal floors leading down the extensive windowless hallway. I tried not to fidget as the guards walking on either side of me didn't say a word, quirk stabilizing guns held at the ready. In fact, they were barely making a sound at all.
One of them, an older gentleman keeping a respective distance to my left, glanced at my awkward expression and offered a small smile.
"Don't worry, Sweetheart," his friendly countenance was that of a grandfather reassuring a frightened child that the monster under the bed wasn't going to hurt them. "We've got 'em locked up real good. Securest facility in Japan!"
I bobbed my head attentively, though I wasn't truly listening to his words. I was too busy fiddling with the hem of my favourite sweater, the whiskers on the front not quite appropriate for the occasion. This hadn't seemed to deter the guards that greeted me at the entrance, however, as they had all appeared much too excited about having one of Class 1-A's elites in their presence. A few had even asked for an autograph, which I graciously agreed to.
My brain was still reeling from the drastic one-eighty that had happened since I had been kidnapped a few months ago—people no longer looked at me with fear in their eyes. They stopped me in the streets and congratulated me for aiding the Pros in capturing All For One. Children squealed and whispered when I walked by. Hell, even Monoma had started treating me nicely! Well, nice as far as Monoma goes, anyways.
And then there was the whole matter of Hitoshi and I.
I grinned to myself at the memory of finally sitting down with my dad—my real dad—and telling him that we were together. Needless to say, Dadzawa had a few choice words about that... But in the end he had begrudgingly accepted the situation and continued mentoring Hitoshi outside of U.A., even if it was partly out of spite (no one would question him if Hitoshi accidentally got a few scrapes and bruises in the name of training). Since then, Hitoshi has become one of the strongest people I know. I couldn't deny the pride I felt whenever someone would take notice of his hard work. He was dedicated to being the best hero he could be and it showed—even the people who once bullied him for his quirk didn't dare to call him a villain now.
When the guards stopped in front of me, I jolted back to my senses. We were in front of a large elevator, waiting for it to make its way to the top to pick us up. I gulped. How far down are they?
The doors opened.
The kindly old man gestured me in first. Nodding to him, I stepped in and tried not to openly gawk at the sheer number of floors listed on the panel full of buttons. The other person accompanying me, a no-nonsense looking woman with her blonde hair tugged back tightly into a neat bun at the back of her head, pressed a button—we were going 60 floors under ground.
There was a shift, a groan of metal followed by the floor rocking beneath our feet, and then the elevator was beginning its leisurely descent. I let out a low sigh, half wishing that I had taken Hitoshi up on his offer and allowed him to come with me.
But I was resolute in my belief that this was something I had to do alone.
A part of me couldn't understand why I was doing it at all. I was happy. Everything was finally falling into place in my life. Even the typical trivial drama of a teenage girl in a world filled with quirks felt like a blessing when I remembered that I was living free from the villains of my past.
There were always going to be some lingering regrets and doubts that haunted me in the darkest hours of the night, of course, but I was learning to move past them the best that I could. My hand went absentmindedly to my chest, just above my heart, a habit that I had picked up after the whole ordeal with All For One.
After Saya.
I hadn't noticed my sister's presence in my soul when it had been there, but now that it was gone there was an unmistakable emptiness in my chest where she had used to be. I comforted myself with the knowledge that if I couldn't call upon her spirit anymore, it meant she was somewhere better—happier—than the underworld I could bring forth. She was no longer in purgatory, bound to myself and thus the eternal damnation that the sinister souls under my command faced. At long last, she could rest.
Even if I couldn't feel her anymore, I told myself, I would always carry her with me. In my heart.
Still.
It didn't explain my inexplicable desire to come to this place. I chalked it up to closure and loose ends that needed tying when interrogated about it by my friends, but for some reason that I couldn't quite place it just didn't feel right.
Somewhat flustered, I realized, not for the first time, that I may have been afraid to be too happy. Ochaco told me I had to work on that.
"Miss," the man tapped me on the shoulder, eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled. "We're here."
"O-oh!" I said sheepishly. "Sorry. Guess I spaced out."
He nodded in understanding. Then he gestured to the two rooms at the end of the long hallway that I didn't remember venturing down. "Who'd you like to see first?"
Drawing up my posture, I set my sights on the room to the left where I knew a certain someone to be. I pointed to it. "Him."
"Talkative fellow, that one. Never shuts up about you."
I grimaced at the man's words—Taiju, I now realized, as I took note of the name tag that had previously been disguised by his clothes. He saw the pinch of disgust curling my lips and shrugged sympathetically.
Pulling out a ring crammed with keys, he unlocked the chains covering the door and proceeded to enter a string of letters and numbers into a padlock that was placed behind it on a second door. Security was not messing around.
"There you go," he said cheerily. "Mia and I'll be right outside the door. Holler when you're done."
Thanking him quickly, I entered the room and listened to the heavy door fall shut behind me, ensuring the impossibility of escape. It was a small area that I found myself in, all white walls and fluorescent lighting. The only notable feature in the room was the floor-to-ceiling pane of glass with a metal speaker in the middle that cut the space in half. On the other side of the glass, sitting cross-legged on the floor with a shit-eating grin, was Saiki.
Without breaking eye contact, I seized the rickety folding chair in the corner of the room, scraped it across the concrete floor, and set it in front of his line of sight. I sat down. "You seem pretty excited for a guy locked in a padded cell."
"(Y/N), my love!" Saiki cried, scooting closer. "I knew that you couldn't stay away!"
I rolled my eyes. "How could I?" My voice was dry with sarcasm. "You're just so endearing."
"No need for such a tone. Can't a guy be happy to see the light of his life?"
Willing whatever celestial entities there were in this world to give me the strength not to puke, I cut straight to the point. "Where's the League?"
Saiki pouted like a child. "That's not very nice. I thought that you came to see me, not talk about those downers."
"How about a little bit of both."
He shook his head disapprovingly. "I'd tell you if I knew, Lovely."
"Bullshit," I quipped. "You were the one that tipped off that portal guy before the Pros apprehended you. You know where they are."
"I'm not the one that failed to kill me!" He sang. "If you had just ended my life when you had the chance, we wouldn't need to be having this discussion right now. But of course you couldn't do it—you like me too much!"
I bit my tongue to avoid insulting his delusional ramblings. Partly because it would be ten times harder to get anything out of him if I pissed him off, and partly because I knew that what he said was true—about this situation being my own fault for failing to kill him, anyways.
I was just lucky that All Might had managed to find the creep before he could disappear through the portal with the rest of his freaky gang. Saiki didn't seem too bothered by it.
"If you're not gonna talk, then you're of no use to me." Standing from my chair, I turned to walk away in the hopes of using his twisted obsession with me to coax some information out of him. "And I'll have no reason to stay."
Saiki giggled maniacally. "Come now. I haven't seen you in so long! Let's catch up—how's dear little Hitoshi doing these days?"
I paused.
"If I do recall correctly, you threatened to 'eat my soul' when I took him from you all those months ago," his voice was deadly, cheery with a shot of ice. "Isn't that right?"
"I have Hitoshi back now." My tone was bland, dispassionate towards his words and the cold promises I had made back then. Things weren't the same anymore. "And as far as I'm concerned, you're already dead to me. Killing you would be nothing more than a hassle at this point."
Saiki's brows furrowed almost childishly in what looked to be betrayal. "No," he refused. "No! Where's that fire? Where's that bloodthirsty girl that nearly killed me in a dizzying rage?! No!"
"There will come a day, Saiki," my back remained stubbornly turned to the enraged male, "that I'll see you in my collection of souls. But it won't be because of me. Death is far too kind for someone like you."
The vicious smash that rattled the glass behind me made me jump. I turned. Saiki was pressed up against the invisible wall, grin sickening. His palms, crusted with dried blood from where his nails had bitten into his skin, were pressed flush to the clear surface.
"Aw, come on. Don't be like that, (Y/N). Come on, don't be mean! Kill me. I'm not asking for much." He tilted his head like a desperate puppy. "Grant me the pleasure to end all pleasures"
My face darkened.
"The next time I see you—"
His fist banged against the glass. "Kill me."
"—will be when you're dead—"
"Slit my throat!" He begged, drool leaking from the corners of his mouth.
"—rotting in hell for all of the lives you've ruined."
"Stab me! Throttle me!" He sang, voice becoming more and more deranged as he continued, every word punctuated by a punch delivered with bone-shattering force to the divider between us. "Kill me! Kill me! KILL ME!
"And when I do," I said lowly. "I'll make sure that you suffer. Goodbye, Saiki."
His pleas died away and he fell eerily silent.
I called for the guards. When the door opened, my feet carried me out of the room, not sparing the madness behind me one final backwards glance. I could feel his dagger gaze, sharpened by the knife of his own insanity, drilling into the back of my skull.
The door was almost closed—but I couldn't escape fast enough.
And then there was laughing.
My stomach pooled with dread at the lilting sound, so giddy and carefree it was akin to a child's. It rose in volume the further I walked, bouncing off the walls and following me down the halls even as the doors sealed behind me.
"There's the (Y/N) I know!" Saiki whooped with psychotic delight. "There's my beautiful goddess of death!"
Taiju placed his hand gently on my back and steered me away in the opposite direction, pace fast as he tried to diffuse the situation. Saiki's cackling came to a sudden halt. A rock settled in my throat.
"I'll see you soon, Lovely."
Those words made me trip. Stumble. But I didn't stop. I wouldn't allow him to taunt me any longer.
    Saiki was no longer my concern.
As we continued to walk further away, deeper into the depths of the military compound, Taiju paused like he had just remembered something important and asked, "Would you like to visit the other prisoner?"
My breath stuttered in my chest.
I shot a glance in the direction of the other cell fading away in the distance. One that was under heavy guard, round the clock surveillance, a room made to hold the worst of the worst. But I didn't feel scared. I didn't feel anything at all.
A smirk danced at the edge of my lips.
"No," I smiled. "No, I don't think I do."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Come over."
An exasperated sigh travelled to me from the other end of the line and I stifled a giggle. "No. I already told you I have to study. If I don't ace Aizawa's next exam, he's going to kick my ass. Again."
It was true. Aizawa's training was fair, but demanding. If Hitoshi didn't live up to his expectations, it resulted in an impromptu sparring match to prove just how much further he still had to go and just how hard he had to work to get there.
My boyfriend grumbled something unintelligible under his breath that sounded a lot like 'I swear he's doing this on purpose...'
Finally, I couldn't hold back my laughter any longer and I cackled at Hitoshi's expense. He huffed, unamused.
"Tell you what. If you pass this exam—which you totally will—I'll take you to that cat café place that you've been wanting to try."
The purple-haired dork let out a low whistle. "Now that," he declared grandly. "Is the type of incentive I need. You, (Y/N/N), have yourself a deal."
"Good!" I chirped. "Now come over."
Hitoshi grunted loudly. "You don't know when to quit."
"No," I agreed. "I really don't. And that's why you love me."
My boyfriend muttered obscenities, but I knew that it was his form of affirmation. "I'm still not coming over."
There was a pause filled with tense, challenging silence.
"Dadzawa isn't home."
"You're such a cliché," Hitoshi groaned in despair. "Remind me why I'm with you again?"
Despite his woeful teasing, it was only a few minutes later when loud, aggressively eager knocks alerted me to a presence at the door. I bounded to the front of the apartment with a happy skip in my step, and thrust it open. Immediately, I found my hips caught in the firm grip of my boyfriend and I squealed out a laugh.
He had ran the entire way here.
Hitoshi dragged me into a needy kiss and I melted into the way our lips meshed together. My fingers dragged up his chest, toned by hours upon hours of training, until they found purchase into the strands of lavender at the nape of his neck. We tilted our heads and deepened the kiss.
When we pulled away, I was smirking. "I may be a cliché, Bedhead." Hitoshi shivered as I leaned into his ear and whispered, "But you're predictable."
He rolled his eyes. "Shut up."
"Make me."
Hitoshi's lips curled devilishly as he drew our faces closer together, his hand cradling the back of my head. "Gladly."
Our lips crashed against each other's in a flurry of teasing heat and passion once again, stumbling as we carefully picked our way through the apartment while maintaining the contact we were determined to keep. When the door to my bedroom became evident behind us, Hitoshi kicked it open with his foot. We fell onto my bed in a laughing heap, bodies tangled together.
"I can practically hear Mihoko screaming at us to use protection, right now." I giggled.
     Hitoshi's face contorted into a grimace as I reminded him of the rather awkward predicament we had found ourselves in last month involving an unfortunate lack of clothing and a very cheery Mihoko throwing a box of condoms at us... I couldn't look her in the eye for days. Hajime was no better as he had only howled with laughter every time I struggled to find words around them, stuttering and cursing with my cheeks stained pink.
     Surprisingly enough, the pair was relatively calm about the whole situation, just happy to have their son back. When I had first went over to their house after everything that had happened, I had bowed until my forehead was practically scraping the ground in my haste to beg Hitoshi's parents for forgiveness. Instead of the reproval I had expected—the scorn I felt I had deserved for being the inadvertent cause for their son's disappearance—I was met with the watery eyes of Mihoko and Hajime's sly grin as he watched his wife crush me into a punishing hug. She had sobbed and jumped for joy, declaring in her classic boisterous fashion that she was inexpressibly relieved to have her 'future daughter-in-law' back safe with her 'troublesome son.'
     I smiled fondly at the memory.
     "I'm never going to live that down, you know." He sulked.
     "Good," I smirked, nipping at his neck. "Serves you right for not locking the door."
     My hand snaked down to the waistband of his jeans, palm resting dangerously over the clasp of his belt. Hitoshi's breath hitched.
     "Tease."
     With that said, he entangled his fingers into my hair and tugged me down to his level from where I was hovering above him. He sucked on my bottom lip, demanding that I let him in, but I cheekily denied with a soft bite instead.
     Our eyes locked, (E/C) and purple burning with an unspoken challenge.
     Impish fingers travelled south, ghosting over Hitoshi's inner thighs. His jaw tensed, but he wouldn't cave so easily.
     "You, (Y/N)," he panted breathily. "Are the devil."
     His lips attached to my collarbone, biting harshly on the (S/C) skin there in retaliation for the teasing. Cold hands edged the tank top clinging to my body further up my ribcage. I smirked mischievously.
     "You're right," I purred.
     There was a glint in my eye, a deviousness that had a surge of heat pooling in Hitoshi's abdomen. My tongue flicked over his bottom lip and we smiled wickedly at each other.
     "I guess I'll always be a little villainous."