Mind over Matter (bnha dadzawa) [complete]

Chapter 1

Kiyoko Misaki's pov

"I really don't know how much more simple I can ask this," I snarled at the trembling boy. My left arm had him shoved against the brick alleyway wall. My right kept the blade pressed against his neck. I pressed a little harder and slowly slid the blade across his neck. He squeaked a little which only made me smirk. I pushed harder against the wall and read him.

'What if I never see mommy and daddy again?'

"You'll see your parents again, just tell me Daddy's secret code. I know you know it. I've watched you type it into padlocks." I pushed my left arm closer to him. He stared to cry more.

'Mommy. Daddy'

"Just tell me the damn code kid!" I scowled.

"7246-3323" He sobbed.

"Are you telling the truth kid?" I interrogated.

'Yes! Please! I want my mommy and daddy!'

"Y-yes," he stuttered. I took the knife off his throat and put it in my pocket. I took my left arm off his chest making him fall 2 feet and land on his ass. He got up to run but I quickly grabbed his arm. I got on one knee to meet him at eye level.

"Remember kid, this never happened. If you tell anyone, just know I know the code to your house now." I pulled my knife back out and held it to his face. "And I know right where mommy and daddy sleep," I poked the tip of his nose with the tip of my blade. He nodded his head. I stood up and pushed him. "Now scram!" I said.

The little boy ran off. I turned around and made my way to the ladder and jumped up. I climbed until I hopped in an open window and made my way into the base. I walked down the short, dirty hallways until I made my way to Shigaraki. I took off my mask and set it on the counter.

"Got a pen?" I smirked.

"So you finally got the kid to talk." Shigaraki said, pulling out a pen. "Don't just stand there, tell me,"

"7246-3323" I said, going behind the bar to help Kurogiri wash some glasses. Kurogiri nodded in my direction, I gave him a small smile.

"And you're sure this is the right number?" Shigaraki asked.

'You know what'll happen if you screwed this up'

"I'm positive. He's entered the number multiple times to enter his house and he said it was correct in his head. He didn't know about my quirk," I said. I set a glass on the rack and poured another drink for Shigaraki. I grabbed some water for myself and talked a little about the plan with Shigaraki. That's when I heard my father barge into the room, beer bottle in hand.

"You're finally back. What the hell took you so long?" He growled. I felt my legs tense up, but I kept my composure.

"The kid wouldn't talk. It took a lot for me to get him to," I said calmly.

"So you weren't intimidating enough. Did you punch him?" He asked.

"Of course I did. I-"

"So you're WEAK!" He shouted. He threw the beer bottle my way and I fell to the ground to avoid it. I heard it crash behind me as I felt the shards of glass bounce off my back. He stormed over to me. I got up and looked at him blankly, even though I was shaking in my shoes. He viciously grabbed my arm and began dragging me. "Come on, were training" he growled.

"Father, please not today. I need a day more to heal and th-"

"Shut it brat!" He bellowed. He pulled my wrist as I glanced back at Kurogiri for any backup. He shook his head and gave me a remorseful look. He continued to drag me as I succumbed to his wrath and walked over to the training room. He shoved me in front of what was once a white punching bag, now riddled with reddish brown marks. "No wraps. 1-1-2, NOW!" He shouted.

I sighed as I took off my sweatshirt and tied up my hair. I reluctantly got into a fighting position. I held up my scabbed knuckles and hit twice with my left, and once with my right. It stung as I felt the scabs on my knuckles opening and tearing into the slimy under layers. My fist tensed up with each punch, but I didn't stop. I couldn't.

"Punch harder you brat!" He yelled.

I punched faster and harder. The pain was mostly replaced with a numbness and a slight sting when my skin ripped a little more. I felt myself begin to sweat. As I punched. I glanced where my fists his the bag. They slowly began to get covered in red with each new punch.

"HARDER!" He bellowed.

I punched as hard as I could, feeling my skin shreds off my bones. My eyes teared up a little until one right hook. I felt my delicate under layer scrape against the bag. I screamed and cursed in pain. I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned to the source only to get clocked by my father. I fell backwards. I wiped my nose, feeling it running. I looked at my hands, not sure whether they're covered in blood from my knuckles or my nose. I looked up at him.

"Get up coward!" He screamed. I obeyed. I stood up and he kicked he hard in the stomach. I grunted as I made contact with the wall and fell. I glanced at the wall, now dented behind me. I coughed up a storm, gasping for air. He stared down at me.

"What would your mother think if she saw you so weak?" He snarled. My eyes widened

"Don't you dare talk about mom," I coughed. I gasped for air and glared at him. My eyes widened in fear at the sudden realization of the tone I just talked to him in.

"Shut it brat!" He kicked my stomach. Hard. I coughed and groaned a little on the floor. Trying my best to act nonchalant. "You will be absolutely useless in the field if you're this weak. You can impair people for a little bit, and then what? You run? You're no better than a quirkless runt. No daughter of mine will be this weak. You bring disgrace to this family and you bring disgrace to the League." He spat on me as he turned to leave. Before exiting he turned and said one last thing:

"You're not eating tonight. Keep training. Make yourself comfortable," he said. He slammed the door shut and I heard the click of the lock all too familiar to me. I laid on the ground for a while. Catching my breath. I soon got up, body aching. I went to the training bathroom. I grabbed a paper towel and wet it in the sink. I wiped the paper towel on my face, collecting the blood. I looked at my hands, my knuckles covered in blood, along with my fingers from the punching bag. I ran my hands under the sink and used a little soap. Once that was done, I opened the medicine cabinet above me and sighed, dreading what happened next.

I grabbed the peroxide from the cabinet and a paper towel. I poured the peroxide on the paper towel, and put a towel in my mouth. I put the paper towel on my knuckles and bit hard on the towel. I grunted and screamed in agony. It felt as if there were billions of tiny, lemon dipped knives ripping apart my hand and the bones in it. I repeated the process for my other hand as I felt a buzz and a pulsing pain afterwards. I steadied my breathing and wrapped my knuckles in gauze and micro tape.

I go back to the training room. The only place I had access to. I take a cinder block and lightly set it on my feet. I began doing sit ups until my core began to shake and I could no longer. I traced my abs lightly with my fingers. I breathed slowly and pulled out a mat, the only thing keeping me from the ancient wooden floor. I pulled my purple waist length hair out of the hair tie and gingerly our in on my wrist.

I laid on the mat and shivered a little bit in the cold, lifeless room. If only I was stronger, this wouldn't have happened. If only mom was still here.
Mom.

I sighed trying to push her out of my memory. I lightly caressed my bruised cheek, and I gently traced the scar on the left side of my rib cage.

I could still see her beautiful light blue eyes every time I looked in the mirror. Though mine could never match hers. Her eyes were all I had left of her.

I teared up a little, but not much since my tired eyes refused to stay open. I slowly drifted off to sleep, nervous for tomorrow.