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I am Sister

Reader type: Female

Pairings: Oboro Shirakumo X Reader (main), Shouta Aizawa X Reader (slight, if you squint)

Rainting: T for Teen

Warnings: Mentions of death

Summary: (Name) was the childhood friend and ultimate love of one Oboro Shirakumo, even after the she fell during a fatal villain attack in their second year at UA. Years later, her friends, who achieved their dreams of going Pro are called to Tartarus and receive some information that shocks them to the core.

AU: Oboro lives but you lose your life during the internship.

· You didn’t look like you- that much was clear. If you had, Shouta would have immediately recognized you during the USJ raid.

· You weren’t (name) in appearance, but you were not a Nomu either- you still looked human. Like someone they would pass on the street any day.

· Shouta remembered from the USJ that your once joyful, full of wonderful emotion had been transfigured into emotionless, pupilless eyes. They were baby pink, and cloudy, pretty in an unsettling way.

· Your hair that you had taken such good care of was now impossibly black, like wet ink spilled across the pages of an aging book. You locks had been cropped just below your ears and were now impossibly straight, lacing any of its previous volume. What looked like pink smoke hung like fog around it, even with Shouta using his quirk.

· You skin was unhealthy pale, lacking any of its previous warmth. You looked sickly.

· Could this really be the body of (Name)? all men thought to themselves.

· You blink your eyes open, one twice, three slow times before the fog of sleep lifts from your mind.

· “We’re going to wake her up now,” Grand Torino spoke through the sound system in the cell.

· All three men took their places.

· Three individuals stare up at you through the glass window that separates interrogators from the interrogees. You are used to seeing police forces, investigators, on the other side of the room, but today, well, it looks like a change of faces has finally arrived. You are so relieved- you were getting tired of looking at that decrepit old man.

· A sleepy groan leaves your lips as you yawn wide like a cat, when you’re done, you settle lazy baby pink eyes on the men before you.

· “Hello,” you greet. The men before you all tense up at the same time. Unbeknownst to you, the voice you spoke in was a monotonous version of a voice that was familiar and once dear to them.

· You scanned them slowly, from left to right, making no move to hide the fact that you were sizing them up.

· The first one, the one looking dead at you with eyes like priceless rubies, you remembered him. Erasure Head, the homeroom teacher of class 1-A, a huge thorn in your side at the attack of the USJ.

· The second you remember on principle. Present Mic. The loudmouth, another teacher at UA, one of the pros you never in your life had the energy to deal with.

· And the last one… His name was… Loud Cloud, you were pretty sure.

· “Do you recognize us?” Erasure Head was staring at you, his eyes boring into your soul and cancelling out your ability to utilize your quirk. That was mildly annoying, but it wasn’t like you were expecting to be able to use your teleportation quirk anyway.

· With a simple tilt of the head, you offered an answer, “You are pro heroes: Erasure Head, Present Mic, and Loud Cloud.”

· “Do you remember us?” this time Present Mic spoke up, his voice dripping with emotions you could not seem to place, save for one. Frustration.

· Baby pink irises flicked between the three faces. “Pro Hero Erasure Head fought the League of Villains during the UA raid. Present Mic joined the fray when the rest of the faculty appeared to assist.”

· “And me? Do you remember me?” Loud Cloud spoke up. In your time of freedom, Loud Cloud had never been any cause for concern. You had never before interacted with the pro, and you knew little of him aside from his name.

· He looked sad as he stared at you from across the glass, the smile that was always plastered across his face from your brief media memories was gone, not even a ghost of it could be found on his lips.

· “I have never before interacted with Pro Hero: Loud Cloud.” At your words, the man seemed to shrink in on himself, his head hung low, and his arms came to wrap around himself. You didn’t understand why the sight made you sad.

· Present Mic lets out a long, frustrated groan then looks up to the surveillance camera in the corner of the room. “You guys have got this all wrong. There’s no way she wouldn’t remember Shirakumo! And besides, she’s nothing like (Name)!”

· “Present Mic would be correct, I am not (Name).”

· All eyes in the room turned to you.

· “I have no name; I was never given one. As I have told my previous interrogators, I am simply referred to as Sister, or, in the case of the media: the Villain Pandemonium.”

· “See?” Present Mic jumps from his spot and points an accusatory finger at the black chrome camera, arguing with the individual behind the surveillance camera about something you still did not understand.

· “Keep going.” The voice of the individual operating the surveillance equipment was masked, but you were sure it was either that one old man, the hero, or the younger one with the black hair. The plain looking guy.

· Keep going with what? What information about you were they after?

· I didn’t matter. Not really. If AFO sensed that they were probing into something they shouldn’t, he could just that quirk to make you catatonic. They wouldn’t get anything from this pointless endeavor.

· But maybe you could. After all, it’d been so long since you had tasted freedom.

· “If you three insist on badgering me with questions, may I ask one of my own? How is Tomura? As Sister, I am his secondary caretaker. This… unfortunate situation has left me unable to fulfill my duties.”

· “You want to know how he’s doing?” Loud Cloud asks softly. He’s still looking at you with sad eyes. It still makes you feel some type of way in the pit of your stomach. You look away from him to Erasure Head, who is looking at you with one of the best poker- faces you’ve seen to date.

· You direct you answer to the red eyed hero, not liking the feeling you get when your eyes settle upon Loud Cloud. “I would yes. Is he okay?”

· Mic groans loudly again. “How would we know?” he all but yells. He is very theatrical, even after all these years.

· Wait. What? Where did that come from? You shake your head. A simple slip of the mind.

· “That’s rather unfortunate. I’m beginning to tire of being asked questions but not being given answers to my own.”

· “You’ve been locked up in a cell for months, that guy has never once tried to free you. Why would you want to know about a punk like him anyway?”

· Another tilt of the head, like a confused puppy, but with blank eyes.

· “Because. It is my duty to protect and nurture Tomura. That is why I am Sister.”

· “That’s a lame duty is you ask me! Who would want to take care of a gloomy little punk all day long!” Suddenly, Mic lets out a gasp and turns to Erasure Head. The man in question is now struggling to keep composure, his eyes are watering with unshed tears.

· Erasure Head scoots closer to the glass and gives you a soft look, tender almost. He begins to speak, and his voice is sad.

· He tells the tale of a bright, young schoolgirl with a friendly smile and a quirk similar to one you have in your quirk repertoire, generously gifted to you by AFO.

· He tells the tale of a bright and cheerful girl pulling a gloomy punk by the sleeve, encouraging him when he was down, doing the absolute most to bring a smile to his face when he felt less than adequate.

· It seemed that this (Name) was perfect in his eyes, a true friend, a ray of sunshine in his life and a pillar of hope.

· That’s when it clicked. They thought this girl was you.

· They were trying to bring forth some long-lost memories from your subconscious or something. Well, that wouldn’t work. You were Sister. You had always been Sister. …Right?

· “I think I know what you are trying to do. I am not without compassion. I am sorry, but I am not this (Name) that you think I am. I am just Sister, agent of AFO and caretaker of Tomura.”

· Tears pool down Erasure Heads cheeks and your heart clenches in your chest at the sight. Why? Why did it hurt to look at this man who you barely knew?

· And then he stepped up to the glass. Loud Cloud.

· His eyes were so sad, rimmed with unshed tears, and he kneeled beside the glass, as close to you as he could get with the obstruction, and pulled something from his pocket.

· You watched him curiously as he opened the drawstring to the little velvet bag and dumped something shiny out into his hand.

· Your pupilless eyes made it hard for any of the men to gauge your reaction to the object, and it seemed your poker face was just as good as their dark-haired companion.

· “What’s that?”

· Loud Cloud opened out his palm. Cradled in the palm of his hand was a delicate sliver band. There was a cloud made of what looked like rose quarts on the top of the shiny band, trimmed in silver.

· “You- you were wearing it when you died.”

· Gods, he looked so sad there, peering at you through the glass.

· Loud Cloud, from what you could remember was a happy go lucky pro with the ability to create clouds that were dense enough to carry and store things on. Every time you had seen a media article on the man, he was smiling happily, looking very well put together in his hero costume.

· The man before you did not look like that Loud Cloud. This man was dressed in what looked like rumbled pajamas, like he had rolled out of bed and ran here, unlike his counterparts in their hero attire.

· His pretty blue eyes were red-rimmed, like he had been crying before attending this “Meeting”. They were shinning with tears now.

· “Your mom- she gave it back to me. It was, it was recovered on your body.”

· “Do you remember when I gave you this?”

· You wanted to tell him that he was wrong. That he had never given you jewelry, because the two of you had never met. But all you said was: “No.”

· His lips wobbled. “My name is Oboro Shirakumo, and you were-are- the love of my life.”

· They way his said it was earnest, a feeling that you weren’t familiar with was working its way through your chest, it sent sharp pain throughout it.

· Oboro leaned his head against the glass, “I gave you this ring on the day we both accepted into UA. Does any part of you remember that?”

· You don’t answer verbally, you just shake your head, watching his face contort into despair. Th tears rimming his eyes finally fell over and splashed his cheeks.

· You wanted to wipe them away. You didn’t want him to be sad. This look- this look didn’t fit him. You wanted to fix it. Why?

· A soft smile appeared on his fact when he started to speak again, reliving a memory that he was fond of. You wanted to hear it. You needed to hear it.

· “I told you I loved you for the first time that day, and I also told you that I was sure, absolutely positive that you were the love of my life, and that I wanted to spend all of what I had with you. We were too young to get married, but I gave you this and made a promise that one day when we were old enough, when I was successful enough, I would marry you and I would spend the rest of my life trying to make you as happy as you made me. You accepted it.”

· He smiled so big, his eyes were closed, like he was in that moment. “You hugged me so hard you threw me to the ground. Hit my head pretty hard too, had me seeing-”

· Stars and every planet in between… Wait.

· “Stars and every planet in between” he continued.

· But it was worth it… I know this!

· “But it was worth it.” He finished.

· Holy fuck. Holy fuck you remember now and how the hell could you have forgotten him? Forgotten any of them?

· You struggled to control both your breathing and your thoughts. Keep calm, and AFO would have no reason to peek in on this conversation and shut you down with that damn quirk.

· “(Name), do you remember?” Oboro asks, his voice was wobbly, and his eyes were filled with hope. Hope that you would have to crush verbally, for sure. But you needed to send a message, somehow.

· “Someone changed you, after your accident. They stole your body and they changed you. Can you tell us who it is? Maybe if we know, we can help you (Name). Please, just tell us who did this to you.”

· How to get a message through? How, how, how? You manage not to gasp. Lightbulb.

· “I don’t,” a small tap of your foot, “remember. I truly do not know (tap) what you are talking about.”

· Oboro hangs his head in defeat, “You truly are gone, even with your body right here.”

· No, no! I’m here, I’m right here. Please, Shouta, you’re the smart one. Figure it out.

· “And where (tap) would this (Name) have gone, specifically (tap). The afterlife? Are you trying to tell me that the body I am in (tap) is not my own?”

· Mic speaks up after having been quite for too long for comfort, his eyes are also sad, but he’s holding on strong for the other two men.

· “I’m not going to explain the science behind it, villain,” ouch. True, but that hurt. “But the body you’re in once belonged to our friend, and AFO defiled it, and used it to create you, Sister.”

· “Doesn’t your body go to a (tap) funeral home or hospital (tap) upon death?” you shake your head. I suppose it doesn’t matter, being as I am NOT your friend. I am Sister, I watched over Toumura, until the time of my arrest.”

· Overhead, the voice reappears, “Do you have any other ideas?”

· I (tap) bet that’s you, isn’t it, you decrepit old man? What are you trying to get me to remember (tap)? I don’t think the assumption you (tap) are operating under is accurate.

· “I (tap) will say this one more time. I am Sister. I am, sorry, I truly am. I did not lie when I said I’m not without compassion.”

· You look towards Oboro, he’s still seated by the glass, but his hands are covering his face, and his shoulders are shaking. Oh, baby, don’t cry.

· “I am truly sorry that you did not find the woman that you love (tap) here today. You (tap) should look for information on the League elsewhere. I assume that’s what the whole point of this mess was.”

· All of the men before you look sad beyond belief, it pains you to leave them like this. Then, you catch Shouta watching your fingers, you suppress the urge to smile.

· “If you are all (tap) quite done pestering me down, I’d like to be put under again. This was a rather tiresome event. Have fun watching the recordings.”

· As soon as you let the words slip your lips, you feel the cool sensation of the sedative entering your body. Slowly, your head slumps forward, and you are unconscious.

· Oboro lets out a loud sob from the floor and clutches the ring to his chest which heaves with the force of his cries.

· Mic moves to comfort his blue haired friend, but Shouta is up and out the door, straight to the monitoring room.

· “Show me the footage directly after Obror’s story,”

· They play the tape.

· “Look, there,” Shouta points out when your finger beings to tap.

· “I see,” the detective murmurs, “And there’s a significant spike in her brain activity right after the story, then the tapping begins.”

· “Let me try something” Shouta maneuvers himself in front of the monitor.

· Shouta messes with the copied footage, splicing and editing, when he’s one he plays a message. Everyone’s eyes shoot up.

· Shouta calls for his friends and explains what they deduced.

· “Here listen to this. She was there, Oboro, after you talked to her, she remembered. She just couldn’t say anything.”

· Shouta plays the message.

· “Don’t know where specifically. In a hospital. Being watched. I remember you. I love you all.”

· They had to hold Oboro back from running to bust you out of that cell.

· “She’s being watched, we can only assume by AFO. We have to figure out where they did this. A hospital isn’t a big lead, but its better than nothing. If we find out who did this to her, maybe we can fix it. Maybe we can have her back.”

#oboro shirakumo x reader #aizawa shouta imagine #shirakumo oboro #shouta aizawa #my hero academia #present mic #hizashi x shouta #hizashi yamada x you #hizashi yamada x reader #bnha aizawa

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