十六

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Onism

[n] the frustration of being stuck in one body that only inhibits one place at one time.

see also;

[n] something [y/n] has been feeling especially with the thrill of open windows and the winds whispering danger into her ears on the horizon. two steps away, she might just be able to crack the cocoon. but patience is key, and one day, one bag, one moment, stands in between. 


—the dictionary of obscure sorrows




BAKUGOU CURSED HIS LUCK AND PULLED THE BEANIE LOWER ONTO HIS HEAD, wondering when Kirishima had gotten so good at rock-paper-scissors-shoot. He also wondered if finger-gunning was a valid move, but all of his pondering was useless as he, not Kirishima, was the one standing in front of [y/n]'s house with clenched fists and a backpack that wasn't his. 

He shifted the straps of the bag, the scowl etched into his face deepening when he felt the gas mask jostle around among the faux books as well as past homework sheets that the bakusquad was happy to hand over. After all, it would not do to dwell on the 20s and circled 'see me laters' marked at the top of half-finished essays on the history of past heroes and new policies of quirk regulation. Hakuna matata, yolo and whatever—they were teenagers and it's time to live a little!

Which was probably the reason why Dumbasses #1 through 4 plus Goth Girl and her unofficial official girlfriend agreed so readily to get a random stranger out into the world that could easily kill them in T-minus seven seconds. 

The volatile blond cautiously stared up at the house. It was a perfectly ordinary structure, one painted over with a light tan that could be found dotted all over the quaint neighborhood. Plants crawled their way up the walls, a mosaic of shades of green twisting and tangling together in a ladder some movie character would use to escape into the night. He scoffed. Yeahhhh no, he wasn't going to watch a girl with a gas mask strapped onto her face fall from the second story of her house onto the ground and risk her mother catching them in her yard. 

He'd like to live to see the day he climbed to the top of the hero rankings and presided over Japan as the newest Symbol of Peace. 

Bakugou tried not to make it seem like he was loitering around the outside of the front gates which, unfortunately for him, were locked shut. He kicked at a patch of weeds sprouting through the cement at his feet, mind cursing and screaming why on earth hadn't he thought this through? He'd been here before—multiple times, in fact—so he should've known that he'd have to bypass this massive gate (which, now that he thought about it, was kinda weird in a perfectly safe neighborhood like this one). He looked desperately at the window the girl usually frequented, before realizing how...different it looked from the outside. 

The night had obscured the dark, almost opaque curtains that hung from each window which were now revealed in the obnoxiously bright sunlight. The light in all of the panes of glass were all blotted out except for the one in [y/n]'s room. While he could see that she accidentally left her desk lamp on, the large sliding doors that lead outside to a patio were cloaked in darkness. 

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