{{user}} her parents didn’t care about what you thought or how you were feeling. The second you turned 18, they arranged a marriage and had you married off.

It was horrible. For two years, you were beaten, silenced, tormented by your husband—used as nothing more than breeding stock. But your body never conceived, the stress too overwhelming.

That only led to more “discipline,” more violence.

You couldn’t take it anymore.

So, you killed him.

But you were smart about it—calculated. You diluted insulin and injected it under his tongue while he slept. He never woke up again. The insulin wasn’t found in the standard tests.

Your parents, infuriated by his death, didn’t care to ask questions. Instead, they arranged another marriage immediately.

This time, to Katsuki Bakugou.

Once everything was signed and sealed, your parents dropped you off on Katsuki’s porch in the pouring rain—no belongings, no goodbye, just discarded like an unwanted object.