Blood and Air [Bakugo X OC]

Waking Up

When I got home, Friday afternoon, and took a shower after cutting off my bandages and seeing the black bruises change to a light yellow color, I sat down on the sofa and broke down. I couldn't cry again, see, but I was sobbing as hard as anyone might, vomiting and having cold sweats all night and all morning Saturday.

First and foremost feeling, after letting the apathy blanket leave me and the force of memories hit me, was fear. Pure, unadulterated fear. I sat for almost all of Friday night, sweating, wrapped in a ball, shaking vigorously from fear.

Then the fear morphed into anger and pain. Anger at myself, for being so weak mentally. Anger at my father, who put me in that place, and grandmother, who kept me in that place and didn't take me out until I was 'trained enough'. Pain at the memories of what I was put through, a phantom pain around my arms, my legs, my torso. 

And finally, now I sat here drowning in guilt. So much fucking guilt. It was amazing.

Guilt at ignoring the people who said they would support me. Guilt at ignoring the people who I promised to work with. Guilt at blotting out Aizawa. Guilt at muting out Bakugo and telling Yuuko not to call me.

And the most extreme guilt I felt was for Shoto. 

Never, in all my mental breakdowns, have I ever blotted Shoto out of my life. For the past year that I didn't see him, that was only due to the fact I had to move to Tokyo with Yuuko. I've always told Shoto my problems, always confided in him. And he confided in me, too.

He knew most of what I went through, as I told him during visits he gave me and when I was finally released. He knew how I felt about the world, how much I trusted him and loved him. Shoto was the only person left in this world who knew every detail about me and still cared for me. He knew all my mental problems, my terrible flaws, the shit I went through and what had happened to me in that place.  Even Yuuko and Enji don't know what happened to me.

But after finding out everything about me, Shoto never left my side. Instead, he confided in me, trusted me, supported me. And I supported him just as equally.

And here I am, ignoring the one person in this world I can trust without a doubt. Just to stop myself from feeling. From feeling the immense pain and fear at the memories. From feeling the immense guilt that I knew I would have.

So I picked up my phone on the sofa next to me, and without a moment of hesitation, dialed Shoto's number.

It was two rings before he picked up.

"Mira?" His deep voice came across worried and I sucked in a breath as my heart constricted in terrible guilt. I opened my mouth to speak, but after not saying a peep for five days, my voice and throat weren't particularly helping me talk.

"S-s-" I swallowed, trying to moisten my mouth a bit and cleared my throat. I sounded raspy and sick. 

"You don't have to say anything if it hurts, Mira." Shoto said over the phone and I shook my head no. I need to say something, no matter how small it was.

"I-I'm s-sorry." My voice cracked as I spoke, sounding as if I was sick and hadn't had water for a while; but I said something. Soon, I can explain exactly what I'm sorry for. Not over the phone.

Shoto didn't respond right away. I didn't know what he was thinking. I knew he didn't hate me, not in the slightest, so I just waited patiently before I said my next piece.

"I n-need to see you." I grounded out, sounding sad and broken. Guilty. Shoto could hear it, plain as day.

"I'll come over right now." Shoto said, and I heard the sound of a chair scraping the floor and rustling movements of a body.