If Shiori had said that outloud, Izuku would have agreed with her; she’s foolish.
Ever since he was just a child, Izuku had been very observant. And standing this close to each other, in the middle of a dim and quiet alley, there was no mistaking the distressed hitching of her breath, the way Shiori’s eyes glossed over with insecurity, or the slightest sound of pain that unwillingly escaped through her lips. At the face of such an opponent, however, Izuku couldn’t help but wonder what could have dragged her down that kind of path in life.
Not like he had much right to say, considering his own… Situation. But Izuku had faced many people so far — villains and heroes alike — and Shiori didn’t really seem to fit in either category.
It was the woman’s voice that brought Izuku back from his reverie, and he arched an eyebrow at her almost childish comeback. The lack of conviction in Shiori’s tone just made emerald eyes roll in growing annoyance, at the words that sounded almost empty. Boring, boring boring. “You sound like a kid throwing a tantrum,” Izuku pointed out, sounding as unimpressed as he looked, “It almost makes me not want to kill you, actually— Are you sure you are supposed to be a villain?”
That was obviously supposed to be a jab at her apparently very fragile pride, but Izuku’s attention soon focused on something else entirely. His eyes blinked in understanding as she explained ( and truth to be told, he was a little surprised that she even did ) before they shifted back to Shiori’s fingers, no glow or marks on them to indicate the activation of a quirk of any sort. If it was an ability that worked through direct contact, then the tingling sensation left on his skin wherever Shiori touched made sense. The question about his own quirk sounded distant.
“Hm, we could say it’s something like that,” Izuku replied, vague and dismissive, and then a sudden, heavy silence followed. For a moment there, Izuku’s mind seemed to go to another place, a thoughtful curl of the corner of his mouth and a light frown settling down between his eyebrows. A draining quirk… Unwanted, the smiling face of his mentor came to mind, reminding Izuku of an era where becoming a hero like him was all that mattered. And then he was gone, and left Izuku with a great burden on his shoulders and an even bigger sorrow.
Absently, the antihero wondered if his current life and choices would change, if only he didn’t have One For All anymore. The thought brought in mixed feelings, and Izuku pushed them away with a shake of his head. No. No, they wouldn’t.
Wordlessly, the grip around Shiori’s wrist losened, not enough for her to able to easily pull away, but at least her bones wouldn’t be on the brink of snapping anymore. And then Izuku reached for the other one as well, green, intense eyes finding lavender ones as he pressed both of her palms against the sides of his own face. There was a humourless smile on his face, and his voice sounded heavy, strange, when he spoke again, “But you can’t drain it out, can you?”
Life is such a volatile yet fragile thing.. it was ever-changing and merciless to the bone. It simply held no promises to anyone or stayed true to one thing for too long. Shiori learned that much when she had fallen from her righteous grace at just seventeen years old. Confidence made her stray from her dreams, it made her into someone else, but losing those who held great importance in her life was the push needed to abandon all idealistic morals. Bitterness gracefully filled the void in her heart like black tar, anger fueled her wanton need to hurt others. While she eventually grew morbidly aware of how bad a person she’d become in such a short time’s notice, the young woman couldn’t help but ponder why the male standing with her, the one who lit such a fervid ache in her bones, was the way that he was.
Everyone had a reason for their actions (no matter how awful or morally ambiguous) but were they truly justifiable in the end?
Shiori’s eyes, glazed over with a mixture of false confidence and alarm, immediately avoided the scorching intensity that was his gaze. Her dry lips quietly curled downwards in a silent scowl, her mind working on overdrive. She wasn’t a kid, the bright eyed child in her perished so long ago. But with the way she was acting, in retrospect, the brunette couldn’t help but silently reprimand herself for letting her emotions get the best of her. She wanted to prove him wrong, but how could she when all she wanted to do was hurt, hurt, hurt.
“Shut up!” She’d cut him off before he could utter yet another word. Another word that would subsequently get the best of her. The beat of her heart was practically racing away out of the sudden spite that was beginning to blossom once again. It bubbled like a kettle would with boiling water, ready to burst and burn whoever handled it. “Shut your goddamn mouth.” She’d reiterate sharply, voice rigid as she tightened her small fists and loomed forward. How she desperately wanted to corner him, to scare him just as badly. But alas, it was painfully obvious how different he was compared to all her other victims. He just wouldn’t roll over and die as easily. She needed to put in work.
“Kill me or not,” Shiori huffs, her movements suddenly becoming ragged. “You do not get to question me, you hear? You’re just...” Her attention trails upwards to get a better look at him, thoughtfully scrutinizing each and every inch that made him.. him. Scrutinizing the very essence that rattled her in the cage he’d effortlessly cornered her into. A hero. A disgusting, stupid hero. A person she could wholly and passionately hate with all of her blackened heart. Silence swallows them whole for a moment longer, lavender gaze meets green before finally, she exhaled and pulled back. Frustration was a word that didn’t begin to cover the generous whirlwind he was unintentionally stirring.
Then suddenly, everything surrounding her comes to a complete stop. The anger, the ache, her thoughts, the world. Shiori simply stares blankly, a twinge of uncertainty crawls up her skin like a bad omen waiting to strike. “What are you..” She begins before a tiny gasp escapes her mouth, expression melting into one of complete horror. What the hell was he doing? What was going on inside that twisted little head of his? Much to her shock, Izuku’s skin felt relatively warm in contrast to her cold hands. You can’t drain it out, can you? —- That question alone only served to bring up a niggling thought... was his quirk that much of a BURDEN?
“Who knows..” Shiori finally responded after mulling over her thoughts, without as much breaking eye contact. Her voice sounded low and detached from the situation at hand. Both palms slowly pressed into his emotionally devoid face, nails digging gently into the very skin she wished to taint and rip apart. The pads of her thumbs ghosted dangerously close to the edges of his mouth until finally, she began to frown. Just what in the world did he want from her? Why couldn’t she drain answers out of him instead? She chews onto her lips and quietly blinks away, brows furrowing once more in newly found annoyance. “Shall I give it a try?”