Worth Fighting For (Toshinori Yagi x Reader)

Chapter 32

Art Credit: professor-spacecakes

Though the battle was over and the dust had settled and while life in Musutafu was already returning back to its regular grind, there was something unfinished that was dangling over (Y/N's) subconscious.

Banshee was still being monitored and kept in custody in Japan even though it had nearly been two months since the their fight. Due to legal reasons and prolonged wait time she had yet to be transferred back to America. That issue was something between the two country's governments, but it had given both women enough time to think about all that had happened. The now retired woman still wanted to contact Banshee and try to make amends.

Facing her that day gave the woman a broader perspective of the ivory haired woman's standpoint, and although the two would never agree with certain things (Y/N) could at least understand the pain Banshee felt in regards to her late partner.

With much persuasion and begging, the police force and the facility holding the villain allowed Mighty Marina a one on one visit with Banshee.

The woman's body was still sore in certain areas as she tugged one of Toshinori's big coats over her shoulders and slipped her short arms through the sleeves. Under the massive overcoat she wore (Y/N) was also wearing one of her favorite long sleeved sweaters colored (f/c). It was a soft knitted sweater with pretty patterns decorating the entire piece of clothing and it fit nicely against her torso and hugged beautifully against her bust. The top clothing was tucked strictly against the round band of her high waisted mom blue jeans that hid the curve of her calves and thighs but complimented her figure nonetheless.

As she was tending to the pesky frizz at the top of her (h/c) colored head in the mirror her partner emerged from the restrooms entryway to lean against the doorframe with his lean arms crossed over his chest. The blonde's lengthy stature made easy to see a lot of things and grab items that may be out of reach to others if average or short height, but he sometimes did have trouble walking about in his own home. With his height also came different sizes in ceilings and doors, furniture, and his shared bed with (Y/N). Sometimes if he found her taking a midday nap, as she was basically a cat, he would sometimes find her snuggled in a pool of his many pillows on top of a gigantic western style bed that made her look even tinier than she really was.

Even with the altercations he made to accommodate his size, his doorways still nearly kissed the top of his head when he passed through them. Toshinori was reminded of his irregular height as he stood where the bathroom door was wide open. Still, he watched her, fondly, nervously, all the while trying his best to keep an open mind about her decision to meet with the villain today.

It was like he could hear the blatant warning alarms ring in his mind as his heart simply didn't want to see (Y/N) in any proximity near the woman who tried killing her. He was concerned, of course, but he had no ground to stand on to persuade her not to go as he'd had "civil" conversations with All For One in the past himself. It wouldn't be right to hold different expectations to his lover than he did with himself and even more so since he vowed to support her.

He could remember their time in the hospital while the woman was debating on her retirement and how tightly the man was holding onto her as before seeing her lying on that hospital bed he wasn't sure if he'd ever see her alive again.

"You're nervous about me going." (Y/N) murmured as she patted the rest of her frizz down and turned to Toshinori who tensed at her remark. A soft grunt escaped his throat as the woman pulled herself away from the bathroom vanity before making her move to quickly slip her hands and arms under Toshinori's big baggy shirt to feel his warm skin underneath.

The man turned to near stone at the gesture with his gaunt face flushed red, still after all this time not being so used to the sudden bouts of affection and touch he received from his partner. He felt the side of her soft jaw which had the faintest line of a scar from her fight rest easily under the small curve of his solid chest. Her fingers ran nimbly up his long back and dragged against the bumpy feel of his spine before she finally rested her dainty hands on his sides. She had her right hand defensively on his left side, as she always did when her hands were on his injury, before she hugged him closer.