Falling (Kirishima x Reader)

Chapter 1: Big Promise

A kick was landed on the side of my rib. I hard one. One that could tear into your skin if you allowed it to, but I'm stronger than that and he knows it. 

"Why did you fail to save her, huh? Why did you have to be such a drag and let her die right in front of you," my father spat. He already knows that it wasn't my fault that she died, but he likes to set the blame on me to cover for the killer's mistake. 

It was my fault that the one who was closest to my heart was dead. I can still hear the gunshots rattling through my skull. I can hear the puddles patter against my feet. I was the stupid idiot who decided to run away, to hide. Even though I was one to blame, I was only five years old and I was just learning about what the world was like and how to control my quirk. I ran away, not by choice, but by my stupid instincts. 

He landed another kick on my chest. I curled into a ball, ignoring my black blood on the floor. I pressed my cheek against the cold floor. I can practically hear my heart boom inside my head. 

One beat. Two beats. Three beats. 

He punches my arm. I squeeze my eyes shut, refusing to let him win. My hand wraps around my arm. A slowly open my sore eyes to look at the once kind, handsome man, "You know I won't fight back." 

He knows. I've told him too many times that I've lost track of how many. I can see it in his bloodshot eyes, that there is still a good man. Somewhere. The man who would secretly watch me play in with my dolls when I was four. The man how made the best soba and sushi. The man who taught me ride a bike. The man who took me to the park with Mom so many years ago. 

"I can see that," my father hissed, "but, do you know what I also see? A coward! A foolish little girl! A mistake!"

I gasp, but I'm not surprised. I've heard this too many times. I try to activate my quirk, but it is no use. I am in too much pain. 

I squeeze my eyes shut, bracing for the next painful kick. Another kick lands on my chest. I can feel the rubber rub against my skin, but not cut through. I lose the air in my lungs for a few seconds. 

One. 

Two.

Three. 

Four.

Five.

Six. 

Seven. 

Eight. 

I take a whiff of the air around me. A single tear streaks down the side of my face. 

I lost. 

Satisfied with his kicks, he walks back to who knows where. 

I wipe my nose and bring my hand to my face. Blood. Black blood. My quirk is responsible for the color of the blood. Holding my painful arm, I wobble to my knees. My uninjured arm travels to my stomach. I cough up more blood. Feeling defeated and pained, I lean against the wall. I can see that my (H/C) hair had streaks of black in it. Not from the blood, but from my quirk. 

Webs. 

I can swing from anything with the black webs. I can also grab things with them. I can also "throw" webs to capture someone (like a net or just to throw small ones from to attack the villian). I can also make what I like to call The Spider Web. It is where I tap the floor with both of my feet to make webs shoot out of the bottom to make a stick floor, but I cannot master it yet. My webs only shoot out forty-four feet. Why forty-four you ask? That's because my birthday is on August twenty-second. How does it go to forty-four? Everything with my quirk has to do with times two. For example, I have to use two of my hands to throw webs and I have to use both of my feet to make the floor webs. 

Leaning against the wall, I finally am able to get up. I cough a little bit of blood into my fist. 

I stagger to my room and lock the door. I grab my long white bandages from my dresser and wrap them around my arm. I peel off my shirt and unclip my bra; I wrap the white bandage around my chest. I grab an over-sized t-shirt and slip it on. 

Plopping on my bed, I take out my sketchbook from under my pillow. I open up to a random page. It was... me and my mother. We were watching a sunset. My small hand clung onto hers. I wore an overall with a striped shirt underneath along with a pair of pink rain boots that had small yellow flowers on it. Mom was wearing jeans, a dark purple long sleeve, and dark green rain boots. 

I smiled, but a sad one. I bring my hand to the drawing and stroke it. I remembered this moment as clear as day. I remember the taste of the ham and cheese sandwiches. I remember the baby deer that galloped under the sunset. I remember the sound of the birds singing their own unique songs. 

"I miss you, Mom," my voice slightly cracks and sounds hoarse, but I don't care. "One day... one day very soon, I will see you again and give you the biggest hug." 

I promise. 

And when I make promises, I never break them.