The echoes of the battle still rang in my ears, a chaotic symphony of explosions and desperate cries. The taste of ash lingered on my tongue, a grim reminder of the power I wielded, the power that consumed me. After we retreated, I'd told Shigaraki, Dabi, Toga, and Twice to rest. The war between us and the heroes was far from over. Mafia versus heroes – it was a darkly ironic term, the idea of heroes, these supposedly strong figures, so pathetic.
I needed a plan, and I needed it fast. The others had gone to rest, but Shinsou lingered, his violet eyes studying me with unnerving intensity. My flames flickered, reflecting my turbulent emotions. They darkened, shifting from a vibrant orange to a menacing black, the heat radiating from them starting to scorch the floor.
He moved quickly, wrapping his arms around me in a tight embrace. "You okay?," he whispered, his voice a calming anchor in the storm raging inside me.
I nodded, the gesture stiff. "Yeah, I'm great," I mumbled, the words hollow and unconvincing, even to my own ears.
I caught sight of Kurogiri slumped on the couch, looking pale and weak. Compress was hovering nearby, his masked expression unreadable. Shit. Kurogiri was sick. "How is he?" I asked, my voice sharper than intended.
Compress nodded his head. "Stomach flu. He'll be alright," he replied.
Well, shit. That was bad. With his Warp Gate quirk compromised, we were vulnerable.
Later that evening, Shinsou insisted on taking me home. The silence in the car was thick with unspoken tension. Once we were inside my mansion, he didn't waste time. He pushed me against the wall, his body a solid presence against mine, and kissed me.
Fuck, it was so good. A desperate, hungry kiss that threatened to unravel the carefully constructed control I maintained. I wanted more, craved it with an intensity that frightened me. But I knew he wouldn't push, not in my current mental state. So, it was just kisses, deep and bruising, and the promise of something more.
He trailed kisses down my neck, leaving a path of burning heat. He rubbed against me through my pants, the friction eliciting a involuntary moan. Then he pinched a nipple through my shirt, making me whimper. "Sh-Shinso, please…" I gasped, the words tumbling out in a rush. "I-ugh ngh, I can't handle it. I want more."
He smirked, a flicker of dark satisfaction in his eyes. He rubbed the outside of my pants faster, his touch teasing and torturous. In moments, I was lost, my control shattering as I came in my pants. "Shit~ Shinsou~" I moaned, clinging to him for support.
He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that vibrated through me. "Go get cleaned up, kitten. We have a meeting tomorrow." He kissed my cheek, his lips lingering for a moment before he turned and left, leaving me breathless and aching.
I finished my showered, the water washing away the sweat and shame, but not the burning desire. I went to bed, but sleep was fitful, plagued by fragmented images of fire and shadows.
I woke up the next morning feeling drained but determined. With Kurogiri out of commission, I took Shigaraki to the meeting. Overhaul brought his assistant, Nine—yes, that was his name, and yes, he possessed nine quirks. They had met a while ago and Overhaul trusted him now which was surprising. Lady Nagant, for some inexplicable reason, brought Hawks. Shinsou, as always, had Kilt in tow.
The scene in the conference room was tense, a tableau of power players with hidden agendas. Overhaul sat stiffly, his gloved hands clasped tightly in front of him. Lady Nagant, cool and composed, observed everyone with a hawk-like gaze. Shinsou leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable.
We sat down, the heavy silence amplifying the ticking of the clock on the wall. The primary topic of discussion was, of course, the recent hero attack. But before we could delve into the logistics of defense and retaliation, I had to address the feathered elephant in the room.
"Why," I asked, my voice dangerously calm, "is Hawks here? The fuck?" The number three hero, sitting across from us, in our meeting? It was absurd.
Lady Nagant explained, her voice even and unhurried, that Hawks was defecting from the Hero Commission. He had, she claimed, proven his loyalty. But I wasn't convinced. Not even close.
Fury surged through me, hot and volatile. I stood up abruptly, stalking towards Hawks. I grabbed him by the collar, pinning him against the wall. "Don't even think about crossing us," I snarled, my voice a low growl. "Or I will kill you." My purple flames flared in my hand, licking at the air around his face. Hawks, for the first time since I'd met him, seemed genuinely scared.
A grin stretched across my face. This was the control I craved, the power to instill fear and demand obedience.
Shinsou's hand on my waist was a silent directive. He tugged me back, his touch grounding. "Easy, Izuku. Give him a shot," he said calmly.
"Fine," I groaned, reluctantly releasing Hawks. I returned to my seat, the burning rage still simmering beneath the surface. We proceeded with the meeting. But the tension in the room remained palpable. I couldn't shake the feeling that Nagant was playing a dangerous game with Hawks, and I couldn't wait to see what her endgame was.