Birth Of A Bnha Fanfiction You Wont Regret Reading 🌚

birth of a bnha fanfiction you wont regret reading 🌚

burning storms — prologue

╰┈➤ fandom — BNHA

╰┈➤ pairing — dabi x narukami [oc]

╰┈➤ trigger warnings — mentions of torture, references to alcohol and smoking, mild descriptions of violence, swearing. as the story progresses, there will be more graphic descriptions of violence in future chapters.

╰┈➤ word count — 3401

"What are they doing to her?"

"You know that's none of our business. She's a villain who poses a threat to our society- whatever they're doing to her, they're doing it for our safety."

"Do you honestly believe that?"

The second guy's response was lost as they moved out of earshot. But the girl, lying on the cot and facing the slate-grey wall that had been her constant companion the last month or two, took this all in without any outward reactions. She was used to this by now: guards who could barely look her in the eyes when they came to bring her food she was half-sure had been spat in, and when they did, their eyes were filled with revulsion, hatred, but also fear.

It was quite laughable, how she was bound with Quirk suppression cuffs that rendered her quite useless in combat and trapped in a room with no windows and a heavy metal door reinforced with a code, a security keycard and God knew what else—and yet they still eyed her with apprehension, as if they were frightened of what she was capable of. As if they expected lightning to strike through the reinforced walls of this godforsaken government base and strike them down where they stood at her command.

On her part, she should have lost her sanity long ago. Their torture should have had her on her knees a week into her captivity, begging for the pain to stop and willingly giving up whatever information they wanted. But she hadn't, and her sanity was still very much intact. Which was a very good thing for herself, not so much for whoever the hell it was who decided to keep her immured in here, pumping her for information day in, day out.

Of course, she wondered how long she could hold out for. After all, she was presumed dead to the world and no one knew of her whereabouts save for, well, the Hero Public Safety Commission and the government. She was almost certain they had arranged for her to be placed here instead of in Tartarus. For what reason, she wasn't entirely sure. It didn't mean she didn't have her suspicions, though.

Whatever they wanted from her was important enough to justify keeping her alive and in their clutches, and it seemed that they had all the time in the world to get it out of her by whatever means necessary. Who was to say that after they got it out of her, they wouldn't promptly dispose of her in Tartarus or, even worse, silence her permanently? The latter option seemed more likely.

The sound of the familiar digital beep and the metallic click of the locks unlatching as the 4-digit code was keyed into the keypad that served as the second line of defense against her escape filled her ears, drawing her out of her train of thought. On instinct, she pulled her legs against her chest and curled into a fetal position, before realising what she was doing and relaxing her muscles. .

"Show no fear" was the lesson the Hero Public Safety Commission drilled into her from day one. “Your fear is how they control and manipulate you. If they have that, then they can make you dance to whatever tune they please.”

This, then, was her defense. Not a strike of lightning that would shock their hearts to a full stop, or a blast of electricity that could cook a man from the inside out. Instead, her defense would be her wit, her sarcasm and a smile that showed them that she was perfectly alright. As if their torture was merely amusing instead of giving her nightmares so terrifying she was afraid to let herself fall asleep every night.

"You know, you've been a pain in the ass for the past two months."

The girl swallowed down her fear, keeping her expression blank and trained on the wall as her cracking, dry lips curved into a smirk. "I've been trying to be one, in case you haven't noticed yet."

Her clever remark didn't faze him at all. Rather, it was like water off a duck's back as the man replied coolly, "Miss Kuwahara, our patience is wearing thin. It is in your best interest to give up any and all information we desire regarding the League of Villains and any future attacks they are planning—"

"'My best interest'? I believe that is rather rich, coming from you." The girl pushed herself into a sitting position and crossed her legs but her gaze didn't move from the smooth, grey concrete wall. "You speak of having my best interests in mind while you have me in chains, imprisoned behind a heavy metal door guarded with at least two people, a code and probably a keycard, along with the daily torture sessions you seem to enjoy giving out like candy?" Her voice remained flat, but it gained a dangerous edge that was the only indication of her rising anger. Her fingers twitched as she reached for the familiar stinging sensation of violet lightning at her fingertips that would never come—

"What if the charges against you could be dropped and you could go free?"

At that, she broke eye contact with the wall and finally turned her eyes on the man, whose lips were curved into a pleased smirk at finally having her full attention. "All the charges, dropped?" She asked casually, although inside, her heart was racing even faster than before. "And here I was under the impression that I was important to the government. You would let me go for a few words?"

"A few words that would go a long way towards bringing our society back to a peaceful one." He paused for a fraction of a second. "If I may be frank, Miss Kuwahara, the League of Villains threatens the peace that the Hero Public Safety Commission has worked hard to maintain. Peace that we worked hard to earn shortly after the Quirk phenomenon emboldened criminals and nearly caused a breakdown of our society."

"And why, pray tell," she asked, her violet eyes darting to the floor as she leaned back against the wall, "should I care about your peace?" The last word was spoken with a derisive sneer.

"If not for the good of society," the man shrugged, "do it for yourself. You have always been forced to put someone else before yourself, have you not? You've put the League of Villains before yourself, fighting on the front lines for the likes of All for One. You've, regrettably enough, been forced to put the HPSC before yourself, too. But deep down, don't you desire your freedom more than anything else?"

He folded his arms, a smug expression on his face. "All we want in return is information that should be readily available to you. You worked with the League of Villains for a time, recruited by All for One, no less. You would have been in a position to know plenty about what their plans: their endgame, their plans for any future attacks, the location of their hideout, et cetera. Naturally, your name will be kept out of it. Anything, no matter how small, helps."

The girl's expression was hidden in shadows, but she was definitely pondering the offer. Her freedom was right in front of her, and all she had to do to earn it was answer a few questions she would know the answer to. The man's grin widened as he watched her open her mouth, waiting for her to say the words that would seal her fate and turn the tides on the villains in the eternal war between the heroes and the villains--

"I refuse."

His grin slipped as her lips curved into a smug smile at the blatant shock that was showing on his face. "Whatever information I have is the only reason I'm being kept alive, is it not? No one will be able to testify to any sort of deal between us, except for you and I. And between us both, whose word is going to carry more weight?"

"I suggest," the man spoke through gritted teeth, "that you get to your point, Miss Kuwahara. What is the relevance of what you are saying?"

"Ah, my apologies. I believe what I meant to say, amid the rambling I was doing, is that I'm not an idiot." The girl spat, turning an icy violet gaze on him that would have reduced a grown man with less guts than him to a blubbering mess. "Once I give up the information you've been attempting to beat out of me for the past two months, what's going to stop you from claiming that we never had a deal? From having me assassinated and promptly disposed of? After all, no one is aware of my status."

"Are you suggesting that our esteemed President is a liar?" His tone was indifferent, but he took a step forward in an attempt to have her cowering against the wall. Unfortunately for him, she wasn't so easily cowed. "I would consider the next words you say very, very carefully, Kuwahara Reina."

She folded her arms. "I'm not suggesting it. I'm saying that she is one, and so are you. What reason would your "esteemed President" have to keep me alive? After covering up the murder of the previous President? I am one of the few who knows the truth. Would she really want me out and about, possibly exposing two of the darkest secrets of the Commission?"

The man didn't have a response to that, so she pushed on. "I'd like you to tell your esteemed President exactly where she can stuff her deal. And also, tell her that one doesn't sell out family that easily. I'm sure she'll understand."

"Very well, Kuwahara." The man replied ungraciously, turning on his heel and pressing a keycard against a reader beside the heavy metal door and keying in a code. "The offer is off the table the second I leave this room," he warned. "You'll be sorry you missed this opportunity at freedom. Let's see how long you can hold out before you're begging to tell me everything."

The girl merely smiled as the door slammed shut behind his retreating figure. The minute the locks clicked into place, she let out a sigh, all the bravado and energy she had previously exhibited disappearing as she slumped back against the cot.

Kuwahara Reina was truly alone.

—

"Be quick. I have a meeting in ten minutes."

Taguchi Teruo stifled a frustrated sigh. The Kuwahara girl was obstinate, which the Commission president had warned him about. He clearly had underestimated just how far her obstinacy went.

"She didn't take it."

The line went silent for a moment. "President?" Taguchi asked tentatively.

"It was to be expected. That girl is just like her father—stubborn, willful and impossible to control. Although I didn't expect her to see through the lie so easily. I must have misjudged her."

"President, she knows that the information she holds is the only reason she's alive. She won't give it up so easily, we should just dispose of her instead—"

"That's where you're wrong, Taguchi. Our sources say that girl was personally recruited by All for One into the League. She was in a position to know plenty of his schemes. She is more valuable to us alive than dead. Use whatever methods necessary, mentally break her if you must, but we must ensure that whatever information Kuwahara Reina was privy to ends up in our hands."

"President, with all due respect—"

"This is not up for discussion, Taguchi. Put the report of today's interview with her into the evidence box and try again tomorrow. I expect a call for you at the same time tomorrow, updating me on your progress. Every day you fail to get anything out of her is another day closer the villains get to destroying this society we have worked so hard to maintain. Don’t screw this up.”

Before Taguchi could reply, there was a click and a dial tone. Cursing under his breath, he stuffed his phone into his pocket, stalking in the direction of the confidential evidence room.

Throwing open the door with a loud bang, he headed straight for the shelves, locating the white cardboard box with the number ‘#656700’ in the dingy light and opened the box a crack, dropping his written report into it.

Before he could drop the lid, a hand clapped over Taguchi’s mouth and he felt a sharp, stinging pain on the side of his neck as a small, slender syringe entered the vein. Taguchi thrashed violently, his arms flailing as he attempted to land a hit on his attacker. Unfortunately, the medication that was now coursing through his bloodstream was too strong. Gradually, his thrashes became weaker and slower as black spots flooded his vision, growing bigger and bigger until his eyes finally fluttered shut and his movements ceased completely.

The man who had taken him down slowly eased his body onto the floor, taking the needle that had been stuck into his neck and yanking the plunger out. Staring at the crimson liquid that filled the hollow cylinder, a wide, uncharacteristic grin split his face as he spoke into the microphone wire strapped to his wrist.

“Phase 1, complete!”

—

A few minutes later back at the League of Villains hideout, Shigaraki was haphazardly pulling files out of a white cardboard box that was labelled with the number ‘656700’ and tossing them onto the bar table.

“Are you sure you got the correct box, Toga?” He barked at the ash-blonde haired girl who was giggling on his left, a glass of apple juice clutched in her hands.

“Aww, c’mon Shiggy!” The teenager whined, taking a big gulp of apple juice. “I triple-checked the number before I left! I’m sure it’s the right one!” She made a face. “Their blood tasted awful!” At that, Toga swallowed another gulp of juice.

Shigaraki scowled, pulling the final file out of the box. The entire box just comprised of files, files and more files. "You're sure the operation was a success?" He retorted.

Toga nodded cheerily. "Of course! No one noticed me, right up until Kurogiri warped me out. I hid the bodies reeeeeally well, no one's going to notice they're gone for a long, long, long time!" She gasped, draining the last of her apple juice. "Does this mean I'm really a part of the League now?"

The man sighed. He couldn't deny that Toga's Quirk was going to be extremely useful to the League going forward, especially for missions like these that relied heavily on espionage for success. "Fine. Whatever." He scoffed, knocking the box off the table.

Ignoring Toga's squealing over her acceptance into the League, Shigaraki and Kurogiri begun sorting through the paperwork that had once been neatly sorted into the box, now scattered all over the smooth wooden surface of the bar table.

"This seems to be the most recent report. It was dated today," Kurogiri observed, a report clutched in his hands as he picked up the box Shigaraki had carelessly discarded, placing it back on a section of the table that wasn't covered in paper or files. "'She knows that whatever information she holds on the League of Villains is the only reason she's not being disposed of, and so she refuses to give it up. Has displayed deep loyalty to the League of Villains despite previous attempts to mentally break her, breaking her resolve will require further investigation into her weaknesses...'"

"Remind me why you're wasting manpower attempting to recruit a prisoner?" A low voice drawled from the back of the hideout. A man with a shock of black hair lounged on a couch near the door, taking a long drag of his cigarette as his turquoise eyes flashed with barely-concealed annoyance. "If she was useless enough to be captured, what makes you think she would be of any use to our plan?"

Before Shigaraki could explode at the man, Kurogiri cut in. "The fact that she is being held by the government at the request of the Hero Public Safety Commission shows that she is very important to both organizations in some way. If we capture her, it would deal them a devastating blow. And if this report is to be believed," he gestured at the sheet of paper he was holding without glancing up, laying it aside and picking up another file, "she is both loyal to and has information on us which is all the more reason to sway her to our side."

Shigaraki threw another file into the box. "Makes no sense,' he muttered. "None of this makes sense."

"Shigaraki." Kurogiri spoke up. The latter's voice had a quiet ring of authority to it that made the former glance up, giving him his full attention. Whatever it was, it seemed to be important.

Kurogiri said nothing—just silently passed over a file labelled 'PRISONER 656700' which the blue-haired man flipped open. As his eyes scanned the content of the file, his muscles seemed to tense and, in the dim light of the hideout, his ashen skin seemed to lose even more colour, if that was even possible. "This changes everything." Shigaraki muttered.

Both men's voices dropped to a whisper as Shigaraki started to gesticulate furiously, a contrast to Kurogiri's composed figure. "Fine. For the sake of my goal to destroy All Might and hero society." Shigaraki eventually snapped, his voice back to normal volume, turning away from the dark mist figure. "Dabi. You're going to this government base to break out prisoner number 656700. I'll send you the address when we finalise the plan."

"Send Toga, she'll be more efficient," was the black haired man's reply, taking yet another drag of the cigarette.

"She did her part, it's your turn to prove yourself. And besides, we want it to be as loud and hard-to-cover-up as possible. Incinerate as many people as it takes, burn the place to the fucking ground if that's what you want, but ensure that she comes out alive and that you get prisoner 656700, Narukami, back here before she ends up pissing off the government so much they decide to kill her instead."

"Why the hell does she matter so much? Is she your secret girlfriend or something?" Dabi fired a glare at the leader of the League of Villains. "I have no use for a useless, second-rate piece of trash who got herself captured in the first place."

"Ask her yourself when you break her out," was the only response he got before a picture was chucked in his direction, landing on the ground by his feet. "That's her. Make sure you got the right person."

Dabi huffed, putting out the cigarette on the ashtray lying on the low table in front of him and scooping up the picture. "Maybe she'll make a good meat shield," he snarked. Ignoring Toga's squealing over a new member of the League joining them and how much she hoped they would be best friends, he stalked out of the room and towards the corridor which held the various rooms where the members of the League slept in.

Walking down the long hallway, he stopped to glance down at the picture. The girl photographed, dressed in the bright orange jumpsuit that was worn by every prisoner, stared straight ahead at the camera, her expression vacant as if she had long since forgotten how to smile. Her hair, a pale lavender shade, fell to her chest in tangled locks. But her eyes were her most striking feature. Despite her state of captivity, she didn't look broken or resigned to her fate at all. Her eyes were calculating as she stared into the lens of the camera, as if she was attempting to gauge the distance between an unseen door and the time it would take to slit the throats of the guards in the room. Even in a photo, he could swear that her gaze was burning a hole in the wall behind the person taking the picture.

And a lot of good it would do her, he thought with an amused smirk.

Maybe, just maybe, this Narukami would prove to be something more than cannon fodder when things got ugly.

A/N: if you made it this far, thank you so much for giving my fic a chance! any kind of support means the world to me :)