Reverberate - Chapter 2: Even Her Voice is Pretty
Izuku crouched low behind the bin since before sunrise. His heart was pounding louder than the waves behind him, his breath caught somewhere between panic and anticipation. He hadn't meant to wait this long, but when he saw her approaching earlier than usual, he'd frozen.
For three weeks, he'd watched her. Always combing through the shore like she was looking for something more than scrap. Always alone. And always gone before he could work up the nerve to say a single word.
So this morning, he'd tried something new. He’d scattered a trail of metal pieces—nothing obvious, just a washer here, a hinge there—small enough to pass as junk, but placed just so. Leading her. To him.
She followed it. His heart had practically exploded with each step she took. The way she looked around, cautious but curious. The way she bent to pick up each piece. The way the wind caught her shirt and tousled her long hair.
But then—her bag gave out.
Scrap clattered into the sand, and paper spilled out, fluttering in the breeze like startled birds. She gasped.
And Izuku moved without thinking.
He stumbled forward from behind the rusted bin, heart in his throat, and crouched in front of her, gathering the papers with both hands. His fingers trembled. His mouth went dry. He couldn’t look at her yet. Not until he was sure his voice wouldn’t crack.
He stacked the pages as neatly as he could and held them out to her.
"Here—" he started, voice barely above a whisper.
He forgot how to breathe.
Wow, he thought. She's beautiful...
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