Bakugou Angst Stories

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚In the following time he took his life - 0.2

Sato. Ridiko Sato. An average student with a less than average face. He didn't have many girls in his life during middle school, but that was alright. It didn't matter to him, his heterosexuality wasn't as compulsory and hormonally futile as it was for other guys. Sato was never able to read girls or guys like his recipe books, so maybe that was why he wasn't interested.

Well less of that. Sato's not dramatic. He never indulged himself into drama, but when he was invited to join the newly made group of friends, that had exempted a certain spiky haired boy, he saw nothing of it. Blind. Sato had big, fat, fucking eyes but now he felt blind. He had hardly talked to Bakugou and only saw him from distances, but he knew the blond was completely unhinged and mad.

Bakugou always ruined the atmosphere for Sato, and Sato, mostly mistaken for a slave to the kitchen like an affable housewife of some sort, isn't a pacifist, and resolved to serving Bakugou a strong jaw uppercut if he ever felt threatened around him. It would cause the blond to avoid him, and he's pretty sure that was all it would take. 

But Bakugou never looked for trouble around him. Sato never looked for trouble around Bakugou. So when he had replaced his very position in his group of friends, it should have become harder for the two to avoid each other. Except it wasn't. Bakugou never came to the hangouts that Sato was pulled in, or joined the group of six teenagers on outings. Never.

Sato wondered why but never asked.

Because Sato doesn't care much about gossip or drama.

He wonders why he thought of punching Bakugou if they both stayed out of each other's way, and lets a stream of guilt he never thought he'd feel rush through him. Sato gulps deeply, worried at every turn in that dreary morning, but he watches. Eyes wide and laden with crust, which he rubs out of his view to make room for tears.

'It's not Todoroki!' Aoyama's scream catches Sato's unfocused attention, looking for a pinpoint of staring, guidance, something to follow, and Aoyama serves that for the moment with no qualms, 'it was Bakugou! I saw it. Him! I SAW HIM! HE WAS GONE! I know it, I just saw it! And he was smiling too! HE WAS DEAD! AND HE WAS... was...'

The emphasis on was shakes Sato. What's going on?

'You're joking?!'

'No! Kacchan can't be...'

'It was a suicide.'

Sato's attention is flitting between the students aimlessly, like a lost balloon sailing across the room with millions of others, all struggling to reach further up. But his balloon pops as it crams too far away from its atmosphere, stopping at the words of suicide. He thinks. He wonders, and he places that voice. That tone. Iida's.

What? What does Iida have to do with this? This whole thing. Bakugou's gone. Bakugou's dead. And Sato feels deeply perturbed, how did he even die? Maybe this was a villain attack because Sato's doubting suicide. And he realizes: you hardly need to talk to a person to feel guilt about their death. To realize a person you had held before your very eyes has gone through their passing of life, running through the scheming of their utter existence, is enough to root a nauseous start in your chest and stomach.

And he replaced Bakugou. He replaced the boy that ended his life.

Sato's going to throw up from all this emotional backlash that whips through his mental state heavily.

'Huh, how so?' Some interrogative cop, so detached from cases like this he's floated to a crueler reality and is unable to realize the pain in the scene in front of him.

'What? No!! Kacchan would never!' Midoriya uncharacteristically raises his voice with ire.

'It's not a joke Iida!' Uraraka immediately runs to Midoriya's side.