𝐏 𝐚 𝐫 𝐭  𝐱 𝐯 𝐢 𝐢 .

"𝐎 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫, 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡: 

𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐞."

 - 𝐉𝐮𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐭: 𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝟓, 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞 𝟑

Cautious, yet frantic, footsteps tried to lead you over the unstable rubble. In the chaos, it had seemed the heroes had forgotten about you. The moment The League of Villains had destroyed the building, the heroes tossed you to the side. However, your escape attempts were short-lived. Dread filled your every muscle when you heard him cry out,

"Found you!" Shigaraki grabbed your shirt, tossing you to the every-shifting ground. You saw the rage behind his blood-colored eyes. Shigaraki didn't view this as an ordinary kill. You weren't simply something that got in his way, no. You were a traitor. You betrayed him, but more importantly, you betrayed your own father.

"I've always hated you," Shigaraki said, sharp venom lacing his words. You had no weapon. You had no quirk strong enough to defend against his. Your wrists were still cuffed together. Was this really the end?

"Likewise," You told him in a similar tone. You watched as Shigaraki readied himself to lunge forward, easily turning you to dust. Before he could take a step, something shook the uneven ground, causing him to fall.

"Run!" Izuku shouted as he landed nearby. He hadn't forgotten about you in the slightest. The urgency in his voice shook you; he was desperate for you to go. You took the opportunity he provided you and scrambled away. You hurried through the wreck of a building to try and find what was left of the evidence room.

You frantically shifted through the demolished drywall and turned over broken tables to find anything that could help. You cut your hands on sharp glass but hardly noticed over the ringing in your ears and the feeling of your heart pounding against your ribcage. You thanked whatever god was watching over you when you saw the shine and familiar blade.

With chained wrists, you grabbed the handle, your grip less than perfect. You managed to hear the subtle sound of rocks clicking behind you. You swung your blade, blocking an incoming knife attack.

"I thought we were friends!" Toga exclaimed, some mix between anger and sadness.

"If we were friends, you wouldn't be trying to kill me," You pointed out calmly. Your sword clashed with her knife. You began to lose your grip, the handcuffs making it difficult to maintain proper form. The handle slipped as she charged you again, a loud clattering sound echoed when you dropped the weapon.

You swiftly ducked under one of her swings, taking hold of her petite arm right below her wrist. With ease, you overpowered her, taking your other hand to grip her knuckles. You broke her wrist with a hard snap in the wrong direction, then landing a sharp blow to her stomach. She fell on her back and you left her to wallow in the pain.

When you looked up, you saw the state of the fight between Shigaraki and Izuku. It looked to be swaying in the young hero's direction, but then Shigaraki picked up one of Spinner's forgotten blades. You didn't think. You had no time to process what was happening. Your body moved without your mind telling it to.

In a heartbeat, you threw yourself between Shigaraki and Izuku. His juniper eyes widened upon seeing you in front of him so suddenly. He tried to grab you, to push you out of the way, but Shigaraki was faster than he was.

The steel of the blade was cold against your skin, but the blood that quickly followed the impact was warm. It didn't hurt, it seemed your body had gone into shock the moment the edge of the sword plunged into your chest. An impossibly heavy weight was placed onto your body. You wondered if all your past victims had felt this way.

Shigaraki let go of the weapon, realizing his mission was all but complete. Though he would have loved to watch the light drain from behind your eyes, he signaled for a retreat. The young hero didn't chase after the villains, nothing crossed his mind but you. He fell to his knees, quick to hold you carefully.

"(Y/n)!" He cried, a gentle hand coming to press on your wound in some attempt to stop the bleeding. "You're going to okay! Everything's going to be fine!" You knew he was wrong. You knew enough about your craft to know when someone was a goner. Slowly you raised a hand to touch his cheek, watching as tears began to fall from his beautiful eyes.

He scrambled to try and find something he could do to help, but it seemed he realized what you already knew. He held you close, your blood staining his clothes and hands. He saw the color was leaving your skin; you were losing too much blood.

"You're going to be okay," He croaked out, repeating it over and over again. "Please don't go... "

"I love you," You said just above a whisper. "And I thank you for loving me." A smile made its way onto your damaged features. Your hand was cold against his face, but he latched onto it tightly, kissing your palm. He knew now that it was too late for you to live. But it wasn't too late to remind you of how much he wished he could have saved you.

"I love you, (Y/n)."

"𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐞 

𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐉𝐮𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨." 

- 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞: 𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝟓, 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞 𝟑

𝐓 𝐡 𝐞 𝐄 𝐧 𝐝.