#kaiure

                AT TIMES, it felt as though he did not exist in Kai’s world.

And, to an extent, he finds no fault with this-- he’d never demand any form of glory or recognition for all that he does. He’s such a sinful creature by nature, but there is no place for him to harbor selfishness within his heart. He’d never ask of Kai more than he deserves-- which was to say, his role at Kai’s own side was a mercy in of itself. 

                   But then there are times such as these-- where it felt as though he elicits displeasure simply by being within his gaze whatsoever.

He’s always been behind Kai-- every step of the way, no matter what stood in opposition. In fact, he can’t even recall a time where he wasn’t. But whenever that trigger has been PULLED; when something has gone too far, his wrath showed no real preference, no recognition of whom was to receive it. 

                   And maybe that’s why it stings so badly.

To go over and above all that is asked of him, and still be accused as if he has anything left to prove to Kai. What was left? What more could he give to him that he hadn’t already?

                   Even his life.

Over and over.

                 HARI stands there as if he’d said nothing at all, his lips pressed into a thin line as he gazes through Kai with insulted indifference. Perhaps if he didn’t react, it wouldn’t bother him so much, and he could pretend to have heard nothing at all. His interjection is so very quiet, insistent yet flat-- the words feel as though they pass through the mouth of another, anywhere but himself. “... I understand.” He hums softly, tone even, as he allows his eyes to focus on Kai again, narrowed sapphire eyes blinking slowly as he listlessly stares forward.

“You don’t have to apologize to me, Kai.“ He adds more softly, more subdued-- he hadn’t meant to phrase it so accusingly. He feels guilty, as if he were at fault for not only making him snap under the constant stress, but forcing the apology from his mouth all the same. 

as quickly as it was ripped off, soramitsu felt the tough fabric pulled over his face yet again. he silenced a choke as the rope was tightened so hastily around his throat to keep him from tearing it off again. tabe didn’t like how it felt. each thread of the fabric tingled against his skin. he hooked dirty fingernails under the rope, hands useless in undoing its knot but making an attempt nonetheless.

He’s frustrated with himself. Today just wasn’t his day and luck didn’t seem to be on his side either. He huffs out a sigh while leaning his back against the wall. 

      “ I just want today to be over with already.. ”

If Aizawa was surprised by this, he didn’t show any indication. His face remained impassive except for the slight raise of eyebrows as he studied Overhaul’s face. Even knowing Chisaki’s age, he hadn’t expected him to look so young. The Yakuza had been a dying breed, a relic of a bygone era, well before he’d come into power. Still, it wasn’t uncommon for people to cling to outdated constructs these days, especially after the fall of All Might. There was a comfort to be found in the traditional.

nO YOU CALLED MY SON UGLY

the noise wasn’t unfamiliar for this time, as he had one hand upon his mask to take it off for the night and assumed that perhaps tabe needed help to get his own off, but when toya turned around he had to suppress a surprised yelp.

          it wasn’t supposed to happen like this. izuku was never supposed to see this man again, ever --- never supposed to have to relive the horrors of what this man had done to nighteye, to eri, to him. yet this is their last resort; there is no other option, no course of action izuku could take to avoid this undesirable eventuality.

          even with the knowledge that it is extremely unlikely that this man will help, izuku knows, and yueii knows, that this is the only man on earth who may be able to make things better for eri. overhaul . . . he knows everything about eri, her quirk, her disposition, all of it. for better or for worse, he is the ultimate authority on all matters regarding her. what that means now is that he, izuku, will have to grovel like his life depends on it.

          yet, when he sits down on the visiting side of the glass, he can’t help the full-body chill that flashes across his skin and then settles. the man may not be wearing his plague mask anymore, and he may not have his hands anymore, but izuku still can’t help the cold fear that pierces his chest.

          you can do this, izuku, he thinks to himself, and takes a deep breath. this is for eri. you can do this.