Chapter Text
You always thought your quirk was ironic. A cruel joke that some angry God or Goddess played on you simply because they could. You sigh and look at the clock on the wall—almost five.
You smile a little, excited for the weekend. You didn't have plans, so to speak, but you were just excited not to have to work. Let's be honest. You didn't hate your job. No, not at all.
It paid your bills, kept you in a nice apartment in a good neighborhood, and gave you the income you needed to live the lifestyle you lived. Insurance was a boring profession. A good-paying one, but boring. You yawned a little as you scanned over another policy for your approval.
You remember this couple. They were sweet, young, and in love. They had become so worried about the coverage they would need, but you, of course, set their minds at ease. With a quick handshake, you showed them their fears and how to work the best outcome.
They were grateful to you. Everyone who came to the agency was. Your boss especially loved the fact that she snatched you up before her competition could. You glance at the clock and smile as you sit up.
You quickly log out of your computer and tidy up your desk, not wanting to come back to a disorganized mess on Monday. You stood up and grabbed your purse.
"Night, Yuri!" You waved to your desk buddy, who sat directly behind you.
"Night, honey. Get home safe!" She smiled as she slowly shut off her computer.
You walked through the little maze of desks and got into the elevator. You hit the ground floor button, and the doors close. You lean against the wall and close your eyes for just a second.
You run over the mental list in your head of things to do this weekend: laundry, grocery shopping, cleaning. The ding of the elevator reaching the ground floor snapped you out of your thoughts.
You walk out and head through the lobby. You got outside and headed to the train station. You checked the time and quickly stuck your phone in your purse.
The train showed up, and everyone around you boarded. You grab onto the pole, and the doors shut. The train slowly started to move, jerking everyone forward a little.
You were careful to keep your hands away from everyone. You didn't want to see them. It's not that you didn't have control over it, but sometimes the feeling would be so strong, you'd see something. A second. A minute. An hour. The train reached its normal speed, and everyone settled in. Everything was fine until it wasn't.
You don't remember how you got down here. Frankly, it doesn't really matter, but it bugs you. There were pieces of time missing. One second, the train took you home; another second, you felt yourself being thrown into darkness and dust. Your eyes flutter a little, still trying to grasp the situation. You were stuck.
Almost crushed between two massive concrete slabs. There was smoke and dust everywhere. Once you focused, everything was unmuffled. It was overwhelming. You could hear police sirens and a helicopter flying above. People shouting, coughing, and screaming for help.
You looked around and saw four people with you. You stood up slowly, your head spinning. You felt something wet on your face. You touched it gently and looked at your fingers. A shinning red covered them.
You looked at the other people with you. They seemed to be ok, minus the coughing and panic they probably felt. You stumbled to them and touched someone quickly, hoping you'd see sooner rather than later. You willed yourself to see the next 2 minutes of their life and nothing more.
You see him scrambling through an opening.
His eyes widen, and he met yours. "What did you jus-"
"We need to find that opening, no time to explain." You coughed. He looked around and pointed.
"There!!" He shouts. You all scramble to it.
"Him first." You say quickly. He crawls upward through the rubble to the shining flashes of the helicopter light circling your area. He gets out and shouts for help. You nod, and another woman crawls out, and he pulls her to safety.
You turn and see a little girl and her mother. "Her first, then you," you say, trying to cover your mouth, desperate to not inhale in more smoke. The woman lifts her child and encourages her to crawl out.
The man grabs her tiny hands and lifts her out, handing her to a firefighter. "Go!" You shout. The woman nods and starts to crawl. The slab cracks. She isn't there yet. The man reaches for her, but it's not enough. You have to touch her. You push her leg, giving her leverage.
Her daughter is going to own the family business one day.
The man grabs the woman's hands and pulls her out. The slab cracks, and darkness consumes you. Your escape is gone. You stare at it and laugh a little. Not on purpose. There isn't anything funny about your situation.
It's a panic response. Like laughing at a funeral. Your funeral. You always thought your quirk was ironic. You could see everyone else's future but yours.
"Hey! Over here!" A voice shouts.
You look around in the darkness. Your eyes scan slowly, desperate to see something. You cough again.
"Hey...Follow the sound of my voice!" It speaks again.
It's sweet and calm. Deep and comforting. This time you see a light—a little red one. You stumble over to it and see an opening.
"There ya go! I'm gonna get you out. Just sit tight." The voice says.
"Where else am I gonna go?" You laugh a little. Not humor. Panic. The voice knows this. It laughs a little.
"Good point. What's your name?" It asks.
"Y/N!" You shout.
"Ok, Y/N...do you have something to cover your mouth with?" It asks.
You rip your work skirt a little taking a piece and folding it. "Now I do!" You shout.
"Good! Put it over your mouth and nose, get low, and step back a little." The voice instructs.
You follow the directions and crouch onto the ground. The air is thinner. You know this. The voice knows this. Time is running out. "What's your name..." you ask softly.
"Everyone calls me Red... but you can call me Kiri!" It says cheerfully.
"Ok, Kiri..." you nod a little and cover your mouth with the cloth tightly.
Your eyes flutter, and then, another overload of sounds. A crash. A rumble. Rocks. Darkness. You don't hear the voice anymore. It's ok, though. The voice tried...right?