It always started with an accident. That’s what you thought to yourself as you watched the bouquet of flowers in your hands decay into nothing. As the flowers wilted and their color dulled, so did the pain in your side. Crushing a rotting petal between your fingers, you couldn’t help but laugh to yourself. Someone is going to be mad that you used their flowers to heal yourself.
You strip down and pitch your dirty clothes into a laundry basket (perfect shot by the way, hell yeah) and inspect your side. It wasn’t your finest work, an ugly red scar remained from the stab wound, but you no longer were bleeding. That means you were no longer a risk for ruining your white couch and that’s all that really mattered. Throwing your body on said couch, you let out a groan. Man, it really has been a night.
Things started off good, you had hit up one of your usual spots to party. You had been dressed nice and loving the attention you been drawing from the dance flow. Then a guy popped out of nowhere and started sweet-talking you when suddenly his ex, some chick with the spikiest hair you’ve ever seen, comes up and starts yelling at you. She pushed you, you pushed her back and then she picked up a chunk of her spiky hair and stabbed you with it. Like, deadass, cannot even make this shit up.
So with your new stab wound killing the mood and staining your nice clothes, you were forced to make a tactful retreat back to your home. Stabbed by hair, like really who could even predict that? What even kind of quirk is that? Hello, I’m Medusa but with knives instead of snakes. You scoff, only you would have this kind of luck.
Laying on your couch, you start to doze off. Hopefully tomorrow will be a better day for you.
Newsflash, today was not a better day for you. In fact it was ten times worse.
You are not sure why you decided to go clubbing again after last night's disaster but you did. You are also not sure why you always decide to open your big mouth and get yourself into shit situations for no reason. You look around, clenching your fist as three men draw closer to you.
Fucking shit. Cornered from all sides and a dead end behind you, there was nowhere for you to go but forward.
“So you think you can just run your mouth to any one here just ‘cause of who you use your little quirk on, huh?”
You look up, the guy in the middle, who also just happened to the biggest, looks down at you with a smirk.
“Yeah! Little bitch is getting too comfortable out here!” The one on the right laughs, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Where the guy in the middle looks at you with a cold anger, this guy is all but ready to beat your little ass.
You open your mouth before, god forbid, the third one joined in on the shit talk and intimidated you further. “Well at least I don’t try to harass girls who are out of my league into fucking me!”
Never let it be said that you don't know how to instantly set off a crowd, because the three of them after hearing you immediately lunge at you. You quickly dodge the eager guy’s hands and slip in between him and the middle guy and take off running as fast as you can. You’ve never been happier to be short and quick in your life.
You shoot out of the alley and back into another one where you know there is no dead end. All is going well until you trip and completely eat ass onto the concrete. Looking back to see what tripped you, all you see in the dark alley is an outline of...someone’s legs? Leaning against a wall is the silhouette of what looks like a guy sleeping with his legs sticking straight into the narrow walkway of the alley.
His eyes shoot open and he has the nerve to pin you the world’s most annoyed look.
“Oi, watch where you are going.”
Suddenly this whole situation is just too much. Somewhere from having to run for your life, tripping and ruining your dress, to knowing this guy totally was getting a show of your underwear right now and was scolding you instead of being grateful, made you snap.
You get up, grab him by the shirt and shake him. “Watch where I’m going?! Who the fuck sleeps in an alley with their damn legs sticking straight out! I’m running for my life here, I don’t have time for this shit!”
You hear three pairs of footsteps that are suddenly way too close. You were absolutely screwed. The alley man peels your fingers off his shirt, and pushes you off him. You being who you are, fall right back down on your ass. He then nods his head to the three asshole musketeers running up to you both.
“That who you’re running from?” He asks casually, getting up and popping his neck. You just glare what him, silently asking "What do you think?"
He just shrugs, and stretches his hand with his palm facing towards the men. Just as you sit there in disbelief thinking, what is he going to do, politely ask them to halt, blue flames burst from his hands lighting up the small alley. It also conveniently lights up your chasers. You look at the destruction before you, it was almost impossible to hear the three men scream over the roar of the fire.
“Your welcome by the way.”
Instantly your attention dives back to the two legged menace that tripped you in the first place. Now that you could see him in the light, you almost wish you could go back to only seeing his silhouette . He was a patchwork of burnt skin being held together by stables with messy dark hair on top of his head like a bow on the world’s ugliest present. You sit there in shock, this was the guy you just screamed at your tripping you. You looked to where the men chasing you were burning alive and swallow nervously. It was only now you noticed how hot the alley had gotten.
“Why so silent all the sudden? Cat got your tongue?” Patchwork smirk down at you and, wow did it not feel good being mocked by a guy who slept in alleys.
Quickly, you got up and pulled your torn dress down the best you could. “Oh, um, thanks for that I guess. You saved me a lot of running that’s for sure.”
Now he was just looking at you like you were stupid and if being made fun of by alley man didn’t feel good, this felt twice as bad. So maybe that wasn’t the best response, it’s not your fault you don’t know the proper protocol for thanking a guy for burning people alive for you. Looking him over once again, you couldn’t help but notice a red spot on his white shirt. You squinted at it, and then your face lit up. He was bleeding. This was perfect.
“Oh you are hurt!” You excitedly point to his wound. Now he was really staring at you like you were stupid. You quickly backtracked, holding up your hands. “I mean not good for you, but it's good for me because I can repay you for helping me with those assholes.”
“And how exactly are you going to do that? You some sort of nurse or something?”
You send him a grin, “Nope. I gotta healing quirk though,” you wiggle your fingers at him. “Free of charge this time, c’mon follow me and we can get this started and over with soon.” He just shrugs, and gestures for you to lead the way.
So you lead the little freak back to your apartment.
When you open the door, quickly ushering alley boy in, the place is a complete mess. Laundry on the floor, dishes piled up in your kitchen, not to mention all the dead flower petals everywhere. You wrinkle your nose, was your apartment really that dirty when you left?
“Do you really think it’s a good idea to just let a complete stranger in your apartment?” Patchwork guy says, wondering over from the doorway and messing with one of the bouquets on your kitchen counter.
You roll your eyes, “Please, worse people than you know where I live.” You walk into the living room and start shuffling laundry and trash around to make room for the both of you to sit on the floor. You weren’t letting him on your white sofa, as beat down as it was you were pretty proud of the lack of bloodstains on it.
Alley boy watches you, and quirks an eyebrow. “Are they the ones sending you all these flowers?”
“Ugh yes! What is this, fifty questions?” You turn around and face him, throwing your hands up. He was leaning on the doorway to the kitchen, watching you work. How annoying.
You throw yourself on the ground, looking at him you gesture for him to take a seat next to you. He stares at you for a couple of seconds before walking straight to your couch and sitting there. He then looks at your face of utter disbelief and laughs. You scowl, his laugh is even uglier than him, the jerk.
“I’m not sure if you’ve noticed but that is a white sofa and you are actively making a mess,” You gesture to his bleeding side angrily.
“What kind of nurse makes their patient sit on the floor? That’s just horrible.” Patchwork shakes his head in mock disappointment. Honestly, the amount disrespect you were receiving in your own home was disgusting.
Groaning, you get up from the floor and plop down on the sofa next to him. Why was this guy so annoying? “First of all, I am not a nurse, I just have a healing quirk. Second of all, you are literally so rude and owe me a tub of bleach if your nasty blood gets on my couch.”
Grabbing the bouquet of flowers on your coffee table by the stems, you motion for him to lift his shirt, “And finally, third of all, let’s get this over with so you can get out of my house and I can go to sleep.”
He slowly peels his shirt back showing of a nasty stab wound on the left side of his abdomen, all while watching you for any sudden movements. You want to roll your eyes, like if you had the ability to kill him you would waste time giving him a house tour beforehand. You assess the wound, it wasn’t that big, but it was bleeding quite a bit and you couldn’t tell how deep it was. Kinda was giving you deja vu towards your own stab wound from yesterday. Either way, the amount of flowers you were holding should do the trick.
“Ok, so I’m going to have to touch you for this to work so don’t freak out or anything.”
Quickly before he could run his mouth, you placed your hand as close to the wound as possible without getting blood on you. You feel your eyebrows furrow as you concentrate on activating your quirk. Slowly the flowers start to decay and his skin from the inside out starts to knit back together. You look back up at him just to gauge how painful the knitting has, your quirk was cool but it did nothing for pain relief, just to find him calmly staring back down at you.
“So your like a leech, huh?”
“Yeah, sure, whatever. You totally owe me a new bouquet after this.” You grit out, focusing on forcing the energy from the flowers into healing his stupid wound.
He just hums, still staring at you, “Whatever happened to this being a favor, little leech?”
You quickly look back to the wound, not having anything to say and suddenly feeling weird about sitting so close to him on your sofa. The floor really would have been better for this. It was silent in your little apartment as the wound finished healing.
It doesn’t heal completely, once your bouquet of flowers is out of juice there is still a pink scar left behind. For some people you’d never let them walk out like that but a little scar was the least of this guys problems. Also he has been annoying since you tripped over him so really it is his own fault that he isn’t receiving world class service.
You toss the now dead and rotted flowers back into the vase sitting on your coffee table and give Alley boy’s stomach a pat. “‘Kay, all done, get out of my apartment.”
He pulls his shirt back down, stands up from your couch and makes a show of dusting himself off. Like you couch had been filthy to sit on or something. You huff out loud and cross your arms at him. Ugh so rude!
As he makes his way to your front door, he pauses. Back still facing you he looks over his shoulder at you.
“Oh and by the way, aren’t you a little too old to be wearing All Might underwear?”
Instantly your face gets red and you can hear him laughing mockingly at you on his way out.
If you could just die on the spot, you would.