The Voodoo Villain (Bakugou x Fem Villain Reader x Todoroki)

Can I trust you?

Shigaraki P.O.V

What the actual fuck? I moved away from the bed and sat on the floor with my back against the wardrobe. Hoping that the distance would help calm (Y/N) down. I watched her as she continued to shout for her parents. How was this possible? She had been dead for nearly two weeks. Her body was lifeless and cold. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. After a while she stopped shouting and stared at me. "Who are you and why are you in my house?" she asked, anger spread across her face. She went from looking like a frightened little girl to a fierce woman. She was scanning her body, moving her hands all over her body and inspecting the scars she came across. She looked confused. I suddenly realised what was happening. It was like that first day all over again. She was somehow alive and maybe she could not remember anything? Why else would she be shouting for her parents? I was pulled from my thoughts when she coughed and stared at me expectantly. "Well, who are you and why are you in my house?" she demanded. I let out a breath I had been holding. "I'm Tomura. I brought you home after the a-at-" I stuttered. "After the accident. You were injured so I brought you to your house." I explained. She grasped at her chest and looked beneath her clothes. The clothes were covered in blood but the wound had healed. 

I watched her examine more of her body. She was running her fingers over scars that were years old. Confusion scattered across her face. She didn't remember. If this was like last time then maybe she had only forgotten a week or something? "Do you know who you are?" I asked her. "What kind of question is that. Of course I know who I am. I'm (Y/N)." she snarled. She was angry but not angry with me. I watched her as she looked around the room. She ran her finger across the bedside table and looked at the thick layer of dust on her finger. "What else do you remember about yourself?" I asked. "I know that I don't like stranger in my room." She spat. "How old are you?" I questioned. "15 years old. So would you like to tell me why a grown ass man is in a child's room?" She asked. It wasn't a question, it was an insult. It almost felt like her personality was completely fine. Then it clicked. Did she just say 15?! 3 years. 3 years she had forgotten. Fuck. "What is the last thing you remember?" I asked as I started to raise to my feet. She stopped for a moment and looked deep in thought. She held her head in her hands, as if it was painful trying to recall memories. "Why is my body different?" she said looking at her chest and her hair. I ignored the question. I wasn't ready to answer that yet. "What is the last thing you remember?" I asked again. "I don't know. I-i-i think that I had received some good news." She said with her brows furrowed looking at the notice board above her desk. She stood up and went over to the notice board. She pulled a letter from the board, it was covered in dust. She studied the letter. "I got in to Shiketsu High School, that was the last thing I remember. I remember this letter coming and my mom crying because she was so happy." she said with excitement and happiness in her voice. 

That confirmed it. Her memories had reset to the same place as before. I stood up and leaned against the wardrobe. She approached me and I almost flinched. She moved me slightly and I realised she wanted to look at the mirror. She inspected her face, her arms, her chest, her stomach, her legs. She looked at her body like it was alien to her. She started to cry. "I'm not 15 am I?" She asked, her voice was shaking. Tears were streaming down her face. I shook my head and looked down at the floor. "How old am I?" She asked between sobs. "18" I replied. She took off running down the stairs. Shouting for her mom and for her dad. I followed down the stairs slowly. When I reached the bottom of the stairs I sat down on the bottom step. I watched her run through the house, going from room to room. Shouting, calling out for her parents. Hoping she would find them hidden. Eventually she came back to the bottom of the stairs, she opened the door and looked in the driveway. She came back in and slammed the door. She threw her back against the door and slid down to her knees. She continued to sob. I moved over to the door and sat in front of her cross legged. I left enough distance between us so she would not feel frightened. We sat in silence for a while. The only sound ringing through the house were small sobs and cries coming from the broken woman in front of me.