original

Paroxysm~(Bakugo x OC)

Chapter 1: 1

Drip, drip.

Sounds echo into a fuzzy memory. Sunshine leaks into the small grey sedan casting a golden glow around me and my family, while Rebecca Sugar plays on the radio. Laughing, I smile at Mom in the passenger seat while she belts out her heart to our family anthem. I hear my sister pipe up beside me, and close my eyes and start singing to join in on the family fun. The scent of fresh cut grass rushes in from the open windows, and I breathe in deep, loving the smell. I blink open my eyes and look Dad, who's acting a bit weird, he loves this song, why isn't he singing it? Suddenly, Mom stops and looks at Dad, and they begin to bicker in a hushed tone. Not another fight, I moan mentally, today was gonna be the one good day we've had for months. Still concerned, I listen in, knowing a lot more than they think I do at only eight. My sister's still trying to sing the song, unaware of the situation, which makes it harder to hear their conversation. Dad looks back at me, tears leak down his face as he sobs. He's crying?

"Im so sorry."

Abruptly, the car swerves and tumbles, and I hear a loud crash before my vision fades to black.

Quickly, I open my eyes, my vision hazy and red, with a razor-sharp pain under my creek. I reach up to touch it, and hear the echo again.

Drip, drip.

I wake up, drenched in sweat and out of breath. I find my hand in the same place it was in the dream, and feel the rough skin against my fingers. I wipe the sweat off my forehead, and sit up. The rusty bed frame creaks under my lumpy mattress and I sigh, I should've swiped something higher quality. I stand up, stretch, and look in the the small, broken mirror crudely nailed to wall, to stare at my distorted reflection. The nasty scar gifted to me on the worse day of my life, stretches under my cheek, from my left ear and almost all the way over to the bridge of my nose. Freckles splatter everywhere else on my face, and my tawny skin accents my brown almost black hair well. I could probably be a hooker if it weren't for this scar. I laugh at my inner-sarcasm, and finger-brush my loose-curled pixie cut. I throw on my favorite hoodie (well my only hoodie) then leave, slamming the door behind me. I navigate through the building and finally reach fresh-air.

I smile at the warm sunshine and head off to the library. Since i'm technically homeless, I live in an abandoned water treatment facility on the edge of town, and even though it's rough, I couldn't be more satisfied with where I live. I consider it more of an apartment, since countless other bums and lowlifes live there. We don't even lock doors, considering there's nothing to steal anyway. The most trouble i've run into there is someone try to take over my "room" and gotten into a few scuffles, and because it's literally an abandoned buildings there's no showers, running water, or kitchens, I go to the library to freshen up and waste time.

As sunshine warms my back as I walk to my destination, I try to not to stick out as much as possible. l stay out of sight, and out of mind. Suddenly, a muffled explosion breaks the silence, followed by sirens and rising smoke. Civilians begin to scatter and run, and I head towards the ruckus. Looking to pickpocket in the chaos, but mostly out of curiosity. Making my way to into the fray, I slip in in out the crowd, grabbing wallets and pouches left and right. Pfft, people really need to pay attention to there stuff. Twisting and turning in and out of the crowd, I get to the scene.

The Police are already there, standing around and waiting for a pro to arrive. Live News channels record and flash cameras, and civilians swarm behind yellow tape. A robbery seems to be in action, and stepping closer I quickly analyze the situation. Five people stand inside of the bank, wearing all black attire and pink bunny masks. Lame, these "Heroes" are really useless. Weaving between cop cars, I slip unseen towards the bank, getting a closer look. Hostages are being held and each robber has sizeable gun in hand, aggressively slinging it around. If overwhelm them with my quirk, I could probably get the hostages out of there, and it'd be quicker than just waiting around for a hero. Pulling my hoodie hood over my head, I create as many mes out of myself as I can physically allow, and begin charging my mob towards the robbers. I hate large crime like this.

We crash in and shatter the glass window, and instantly, the robbers pump lead into my clones, and I feel a slight fuzzy numbness throughout my body. To avoid getting shot, I keep close to wall and sneak pass the burglars. Rushing up to the hostages, I put a finger over my lips to keep them quiet, and spawn more clones to help untie ropes. The numbness and confusion from the multiple consciousnesses is really starting to irritate me, so I quickly hand-off the ropes to some other mes and mentally think to tie up the criminals. The clones do the work for me, as I lead the former hostages to a backdoor in the building. Tears run down the poor peoples faces, and they whisper thank yous as they rush out the door. Does this make me a vigilante or something now? As I walk back towards the safe room, and see cash strewn everywhere. I swipe a few bills and stuff them into my back pocket. I hate large organized crime, but turn a blind eye to petty thievery. The streets are tough, and I know first hand how hard it is to survive. I make sure my clones securely tied up the villains, and turn around and head out the same backdoor I lead the hostages out of. Running out into the small alleyway, I head home. I really don't want any media attention, because technically using your quirk in public is illegal and I don't want to get caught. Overuse of my quirk is seriously fogging my head, and trip and fall next to a dumpster. Fuck. I manage to let go of my clones before feeling the fuzziness of exhaustion. Right before passing out, I see a disgruntled looking man in serious need of some Vitamin D hover over me. I feel him picking me up, and I try to resist but I lose consciousness and fall asleep.