||Call It Epiphany Or Serendipity|| [BNHA × Reader]

Chapter 8|Negative Emotions

Six lumps of wood sat before you, all different sizes. Only one remained the scapegoat in order for them all to succeed. The third from the left, that's who remained in your sights as your hand lifted, eyes steadying, breath leveling.

"Whenever you're ready." A gruff voice from the right lulled into your senses when you let out a breath.

The crimson comfort of your own fluids seeped from within your palm and swirled into a spinning blast. It shined through the blaze of the sun that continued to beat down over your back, clad in a simple tank top and sweatpants.

"As you ran, your lower half burning with the intensity of your blood, a wobbly blast appeared in your hands."

Sweat pooled at the nape of your neck, tracing a line down your back.

"Not even a moment later, it became further deformed and exploded into a pool of blood in your hands."

You bit your lip and shook your head to rid of the scene. You couldn't afford a distraction.

Be quiet.

The wind whistled by as the blast flew straight for the unsuspecting log, a small explosion of red-coated every inch of your sight, and only blood splatter stood in its place. Wisps of shredded wood flew by, contaminating the air surrounding the area.

Your stomach sank, a frown crawling up your face.

Shit

The five other logs hadn't been in the condition you expected them to be. Four had disappeared, the area covered in your blood.

The remaining two were frayed and had fallen over. Chunks of them completely obliterated into messy piles. As if someone had taken a bite out of them.

A heavy sigh heaved out of the brooding man, arms crossed at the work that needed to be done.

"I..I swear, I was only aiming for th--" you began, voice strained in desperation as your worst fear had manifested once again.

Above, birds flapped by with a caw as Kan stared down at you, brows scrunched before raising his voice at your failure. You tensed.

"That's enough!"

With that, your yammering came to an end. Pursing your lips, you looked down. Your nails dug directly into your open wound, blood dripping down the sides of your palm in a goopy waterfall, but you hadn't noticed through the blinding frustration burrowing within you.

I'm such a dumbass!

"It's not that I don't believe you," he started, eyes closed as he spoke, "but we need to continue if you want to make it in time for the first day."

Hearing that made you release your grip on your palm, but not the distress that came with failure.

If I just ignored it, I could've got it this time.

Opening his eyes once again, he stared at you for a second. You had only calmed down by an ounce, the clear disappointment in your eyes unwavering no matter what.

It had been a look no one but your own success could rid of.

The white-haired man sighed into the air.

To take one step forward only to take ten steps back was sure to be a tedious path and full of frustration. All you could do was, once again, be patient.

Picking up new logs, you lined them up for the 11th time that day. This time, you would do better. Just lower the strength and size of the blast even more so than usual. The exact amount memorized from years of trying to master it even when it refused to cooperate.