Aniki // bnha x Bakugou!twin reader// ‼️Ended ‼️

45 - and get him to swap our places

The scenario of the world crashing down was something only scientists commented on, or kids wet the bed about, or movies loved to flesh out for a profit.

For Bakugou M/n, the world fell down around him three days before his twelfth birthday. Before any of this, he had been growing and learning; the colours of the seasons fresh before his eyes instead of being washed out behind locked doors and drawn curtains.

It was odd for a child so young to carry that amount of self loathing- stemmed from hospital visits and slaps across the face.
His and his mother's paths had intertwined messily during his childhood, her line often darting off when he made a mistake, leaving him in the dark, calling out for his momma. Asking, pleading, desperately to know what he had done wrong. How could he fix it? 

But these past few years, their wavering strings of existence seemed to meld into each other like the ends of burning ropes, sticking and weaving, both unsure and wary of where it would lead. 

She was taking regular classes, sitting at a table in the basement of some university, listening to councillors dissect the importance of forgiveness. Mitsuki Bakugou had a lot of people to forgive, but not enough to spare.

Her parents had divorced when she was young, the way her mom's taillights had wavered away in the distance while her dad clamped a hand on her shoulder still made her shiver to this day.

She was an adult, but nestled between her lungs and beating heart was a scared child afraid of causing more familial rips.

Often at nighttime, when the moon was full-faced and hushing the city, Masaru would twist in the sheets to find his wife; knees tucked to her chest and a book cracked open under the rims of her thin reading glasses.

"Honey?" his voice rumbled with thick tiredness, but she only hummed in response, eyes glued to the scribbled notes on the page. A small smile crept over his face as he turned back around, patting her thigh, before drifting into slumber. Lamplight cascaded over her form for hours, bleeding into the sun's slow awakening. She knew her husband was proud, so she had to keep working.

Her youngest, Katsuki, didn't need forgiveness. She would scoff internally at that: 'youngest." He was only and hour and a half late than his brother. M/n's birth had been relatively easy, or as easy as childbirth could be, but that other brat refused to come out.

Absentminded she'd find her hand stroking the C-section scar on her belly, the taut skin and bumps reminding her of how the doctors bloody gloves had plucked the baby from her anatomy, like an irritating kidney stone. A red-faced jewel.

Katsuki was roaring up a storm as soon as he entered the world, and it would never get a break from his rage. M/n, however, came out silent. Frighteningly quiet. He didn't fuss, didn't squirm, just glanced around the hospital room curiously; big, ruby eyes blinking and swivelling, taking everything in. He only ever cried when he was taken away from his father's chest for checkups. 

Maybe that's why it was hard at first. She always had this niggling insecurity that he was judging her, saying 'you're not good enough to be my mother. you're not who I want.' she decided bitterly that maybe she didn't want him either, if he was so much better without her.

It was a silly side effect of post-natal depression, she recognised early on that her negligence toward the babe was immature. But still, even as a toddler, he would just... stare at her. It's like they were strangers since day one, an open opposition that made her pick sides. Dad was his favourite, fair enough, but why did she have to suffer from this quiet, judging brat.

M/n never meant to judge her, it wasn't in him to be offhandedly cruel. He was only a baby, and he only wanted to know why his brother was constantly tucked in her arms and never him. Why didn't she hold him like that thing that looked like him? Why was he pushed away in his high chair at dinner time? Why didn't he get colourful blocks to play with?