Chapter Text
The rain puddles and splashes at your feet. But you don't notice. You don't notice anything. Not the blood dripping from your head, or the blooming pain on your burned calf. You keep trudging forward, survival gnawing at you from the inside. You don't stop, because you know if you do, you won't have the energy to move again.
Step
You feel something in your foot crack, and you tumble forward.
Step
You're now barely conscious. You can feel death trying to claim you, and you would have readily accepted any other day. But not today. Not after all your efforts.
Step
The pain erupts all over your body, and you're forced to stop. You crumple to the ground, laying defeated as your consciousness wavers. Even on the brink of death, you can't help but chuckle. Blood spews from your lips and you sigh. How ironic. After all those years of being a prisoner in hell, you escape only to die on a random road. But it's okay. This is nice. You could come to terms with this. Rain isn't really half-bad. And once you die it's not like you'll remember it. Your hand ghosts the ground and you feel a flower appear in your hand. At least you'll die pretty, you think, tucking it behind your ear.
You were about to lay your soul to rest when a shout registers in your foggy brain, and you can make out footsteps running towards you. A flash of light in your eyes and another yell. More footsteps. You wonder which poor souls had to witness this bloody spectacle. Then you're being lifted up by a strong pair of arms. Maybe you'll live, you hear a voice within you reason. Maybe. For all your reassurance, you didn't really want to die. You open your mouth and mutter, hoping the bearer of the arms could hear you.
"Am I safe?"
Carrying you, the boy doesn't stop running for a moment. He was sure you could feel the heaving of chest as he tries not to panic. Behind him, his friends plow tirelessly after him. He hears you whisper and his heart beats faster. You were still alive, still conscious. There was still a chance.
"She's still with us!" he yells over his shoulders, then ducks his head down to you. "You'll be okay. You'll be fine. I swear."
You nod weakly, you think. Your hand falls limp, and you fight to stay awake. Scared of what may happen if you fell asleep now. "Damn it! You're being too slow!" you hear someone shout angrily. A blast through the air shocks you, and you groan. Then you feel yourself being ripped away from the boy and flung onto someone else's back.
"Soy sauce face, secure her!"
Something akin to tape traps you against the new boy's back. And you resist the urge to relax in it. Blood continues to spill out of your head, and every passing second is agony. You don't think you can hold on any longer.
The boy feels your head lull on his neck like dead weight, and he shrugs his shoulder to wake you back up. "Oi, if you die on me after wasting my time I'll seriously kill you. Get up."
As you try to lift your head, he blasts off into the air. You hiss as hot air surrounds you, and cough on the smoke, choking out more blood. He swears and blasts off again.
It's all a blur now, and whatever energy you could muster was directed to keeping yourself awake. Your surroundings started to change. Cold air and fluorescent lights attacked your senses. You heard the squeaking of wheels and the smell of antiseptic, loud voices yelling over each other. Then a cold sensation swept through your body, and you feel yourself slip into darkness.
When you wake, the only thing you register is the constant beeping of some machine. You try to sit, but an immediate headache pulls you back down and you groan. The pounding in your head doesn't go away even when you hear a door slide open and footsteps approach you.
"I see our little mystery patient's awake."
You open your eyes, not very much, and make out the silhouette of a male doctor. "Where, am I?" you ask.
"A hospital, " he says, smiling tenderly, "So. I see you've sustained quite the damage. What happened?"
You reach your hand to your head where the bleeding was, and shudder. How much could you say, before you got in trouble? How much would they even believe? "I was running, away," you say, hand dropping to your side.
"Hmm, interesting. You know, we couldn't find you in our database. No DNA matches whatsoever. Have you got your ID with you?" he raises his eyebrows.
"Sorry no, I don't have anything." you say truthfully. Please, just let me go.
"Okay... Any emergency contacts or family members we could call for you?"
"No," you reply. The doctor sighs heavily and rubs his forehead. "Well then, you'll be quite the case. Anyhow, those kids that saved you yesterday are here to see you."
You swallow and nod your head, looking down. The doctor retreats from the room and you can hear him hold a short conversation outside, before the door slides back open. Looking up, you watch carefully as five... teenagers, you suppose, silently file into your room. Their characteristics are striking, to say the least. You observe them: a boy with red spiky hair, another with black hair and strange elbows, one with yellow hair and a black bolt running through it, and the last boy with blond hair that went every which way. The one girl herself had pink hair and horns sprouting from her head, her skin was pink too, and her eyes a black void that reminded you of the sky at night.
They stared at you, and you at them. Eventually you opened your mouth, "Thank you."
The boy with red hair smiled, "No problem. You're lucky my friends and I were out walking that night."
"Hella lucky," the blonde smirked.
You hear their voices, quietly noting that these two were the ones who carried you to the hospital.
The pink girl walked over, eyes closely examining you. "You feeling better girly? You were knocked out for about a week."
"A week?" you gasp, shooting up straight. The headache hits you full force and you fall down, the red-haired boy catching you and setting you down slowly. "Easy there, you just got out of surgery."
You didn't hear him or anything else. A week! No, it couldn't be. They'll be looking for you soon. Maybe they've already found you and were moving out. Your eyes dart around frantically, then you slowly pull the IV drip needle out of your skin, pressing on a gauze ball and taping it. Beside you, your saviors were protesting, trying to get you to lay back down. You remove the other machinery contraptions too, before slipping out of the bed. You glance at your companions, "Please turn around." Their eyebrows were twisted in worry and confusion, but they turned anyway.
With their backs to you, you wave a hand over your body and hair. Immediately the drab hospital gown begins to change, the cloth slowly turning into new fabric, starting where your hand hovered and spreading along. Eventually, it had transformed into a black satin dress with a white cardigan and high heels. Your hair unfurls from the hospital cap and falls down the length of your waist. Your hand combs through it, each comb making your hair glow brighter and change length. When it had shortened to your shoulders you waved over it again, watching it braid itself into a half-up and half-down style.
Clasping your hands together, you separate them to reveal a vase emerging from your palms. You grip the vase with one arm and cover the mouth with your other hand. You rub the rim and quickly pull your hand up, smiling when a bunch of white flowers now settle in the vase. Lastly, you reach your hand into the air in front of you, pulling out a makeup bag from nothing. Using a compact mirror, you apply the makeup heavily, changing your facial features as much as you could. As a final touch, you secrete some water droplets from your fingertips and water your eyelashes. You finally nod in approval, when your reflection shows a girl heavily mourning.
Turning back around, you clear your throat, and they turn to face you. The pink girl gasps in surprise, while the boys mostly stare, shocked. The red-hair spoke first, "What- what happened to you? uh- what are you doing?"
You grimace, gripping your vase of white flowers tighter. "Listen very carefully, because I don't have much time." They all stare stupidly, except the blonde, who was scrutinizing you with narrowed eyes.
"I can't say much. Except that someone's looking for me. And I can't stay here."
The blonde cocks an eyebrow. "So?"
"So you need to pretend to have never met me. Do you understand? Never." They start to question you, but you cut them off. "You don't understand what a mess I'm in. You all absolutely cannot get caught up in it."
"Sure we can," the blonde grins, "Don't you know who we are?" You raise your eyebrows. He points to each of his companions, "We," and ends on himself, "are training to be Pro Heroes. We can handle your drama."
Instead of being relieved, your eyes widened in fear, and you actually start trembling. "Pro Heroes?!" you shake you head, setting down the vase quickly and walking over to them. "Quick, tell me your names."
They hesitate, taking in your shaking demeanor. "Quickly!" you plead.
One by one, they introduce themselves. Eijirou Kirishima. Mina Ashido. Denki Kaminari. Sero Hanta. Bakugou Katsuki. Waving your hands in an arc above your head, five talismans appear and float in the air, shimmering and glowing. Using your nail, you etch each of their names into a talisman. Once you were done, they dropped into your hands and transformed into everyday objects. A hair clip, a 2B pencil, a small lightning bolt earring, a black lighter, and a boxing gloves keychain. You hold them out, offering it to them.
"Is that your quirk?" Ashido questions, eyes sparkling.
"In a way. Anyways, these are safety talismans. Keep them with you at all times. Pick the one that speaks to you most." Your eyes start to dart wildly around the room. As they reach for the objects, you start speaking, very quietly. "Because you have met me, he may come for you. These will keep you safe when he does."
"Who?" Kaminari questions, pinning the earring to his earlobe, "And why's he coming for us? Who are you?"
"Yeah, what's up? You know we should just go to the police right?" Sero offers, pocketing the lighter.
"No! No police," you say firmly, "You have to trust me. This is more than you can understand."
"So help us understand," Bakugou rolls his eyes, spinning the pencil around his fingers.
"I can't. It's too dangerous." When they had settled the talismans, you began speaking again. "Everyone, I am truly so grateful for your help. And I am sorry for whatever may come because of me. Just know this. If he ever comes for you, all you have to do is yell my name."
Kirishima glances at you, "What's your name? And why do you keep calling him 'he'? And how will we know if 'he' comes?"
"My name is L/n Y/n, and trust me you'll know." You start to walk away, but stop, speaking without turning. "Remember, you have never met me before. Even if you see me in the future, you can't recognize me. You don't even know my name. Okay? You guys are training to be heroes. So do this, keep both of us safe."
You walk out, your heels clicking against the cool tile of the hospital. Meanwhile, in the room, the five of them stare at each other incredulously, not believing they actually let you go. Kaminari speaks first, "Okay, we all agree that was weird as hell, right?"
"No crap, dunce face."
Meanwhile, you rush through the hospital corridors, gripping your vase tightly. Thankfully, no one stops or recognizes you, except for a sweet lady who said she's sorry for your loss. Eventually, you make it out and into the city. Here, you set the vase by some stranger's windowsill and continue walking. As you walk, you start to comb your hair, transforming it back to its waist-length. Then, you produce a makeup-remover wipe from the air, and start to wipe away your fake face. You throw away the wipe, and blink quickly, changing your eye color to a beautiful glowing gold. Licking your lips, they sprout a glossy look, and you rub your cheeks roughly, removing your hands to reveal a soft blush.
You walk for forever, mind set on one destination. Into the heart of the city you venture, glancing around every now and then. You continue walking deep into the evening, leaving behind the bustle of the city and entering a quieter neighborhood. 15 minutes later, the sun setting over the horizon, you stand before a large stone-house residence. You sigh, walking up to the huge wooden doors and rapping the knocker lightly. The door creaks open, and a face you thought you'd never see again pops out.
You smile sweetly, "Hello, Shouto."