✓ Your Left Eye, My Right Arm Shoto x Reader Soulmate AU

Ch. 1 Tell Tale Signs

(Y/n)’s POV

I laid on the floor, writhing in pain as my back stung, the pain going through my back and arms came in pulses, the flowers sprouting over them reminding me that the anguish isn’t mine.
Why am I here? What led to this? Well let's start around the age of 4, the year my life went to hell.

~Start at age 4~

I sat on the couch watching a movie with my dad when I tensed up at a sudden pain diving through my left side. It felt like I was thrown into boiling water. My eyes glistened as I let out a scream that caused my dad to look at me worriedly. “Wha- (Y/n)!” He yelled, moving me into his lap, trying to calm me down. Through my tears I could see flowers sprouting from my arm, slowly wounding around it.

“M-make it go away!” I cried into his chest as he rubbed my back, trying to calm me down. My scream and sobbing caused my mom to leave the kitchen and stare shockingly at me curled into my dad, covered in flowers.

“I wonder if your soulmate just got their quirk.” My mom whispered, that not taking the pain away. But after a minute the pain died down and I was gasping for air, trying to stop my tears as the flowers that had grew died, shriveling up and falling out of my arm. My mom sat down and huddled by my dad, them both holding me in their arms worriedly.

After that it happened constantly, I would feel like I was on fire, and there was an occasional feeling of sharp pains, and stabbing spots, the flowers always exposed how and where. My back would have lines of them. My arm at one point had almost a bouquet out of a small spot, that one, the pain lasted almost a day. But my parents documented it all, photos taken constantly, and dated. They were worried for the safety of my soulmate.

“They have to be about 6! How could someone be so terrible!” My mom cried as I sat there, tears dripping down my cheek, my left one completely filled with flowers. My dad had already snapped a picture, his hand scribbling fastly the details, time, date, my pain level. As the pain wasn’t too high, I wasn’t as worried, yet within a second I screamed loudly, the pain suddenly intensifying. I clutched my eye, crushing flowers in my distressed state as I sobbed loudly. I was scooped up by my dad as he rocked me, trying to sooth me to no avail as I cried at the stabbing pain. It was a weird feeling, almost numbing like pain that was flaring around the vicinity of my left eye. The pain was not going away fast enough, yet I yawned, crying. I was tired of the endless suffering, for both me and my soulmate. How are they still alive? Will I ever get to meet them and take their pain from them? I thought as I finally slipped into blackness, the neverending stream of tears still falling.

Have you ever woken up from a nap or sleep to the feeling similar to a whip ripping across you? Or like you were stuck in a burning room? It sucks to say the least, and I did it quite often. My preschool teachers and every guardian I had seen in school, or at friends were terrified for me. But I was worried about this person… Some person I never met, that if I went without pain for a week or more I feared finally endured their last beating.

As years went by it faded to blue moon terrors, normally towards the end of the day. Good for them. I always told myself as I realized they were growing stronger with age.

~Caught up~

So how was I feeling, lying on my floor, half ready for class? Pissed. My folks had tried finding out who my soulmate was especially at the point they were terrible, but hospitals always said they couldn’t answer cause it invaded privacy and they’re “So sorry for what she must be enduring.”. Alright. Fuck this. I stood, aching still slightly, as I finished dressing, gritting my teeth.

“I’m gonna fucking find them, and kill a few fucking people!” I screamed, balling my fist up, slipping my bracelets of various bones, hair types, and material, like encased petals, metal and wires. My mom stood in the doorway, a gentle smile on her face. She wasn’t much for cussing, or hearing her mere 16 year old cuss, but she understood very well that I was at my limit.