PLAGUE [BNHA] ~kacchako~

part eight

Bakugou woke up in a pool of his own sweat.

And a sick, sinking feeling of familiarity wrapped itself around him as he flung the duvet from his skin.

Where would they go?

The panic ate at him with a relentless hunger. He closed his eyes tightly, dragging his hands down his face.

The image of last week stained the back of his eyes, her lying in that bed. For seven days and seven night. She was so still, so cold. And yet covered with sweat. He had kept his hand on her wrist most of that time. Listening and feeling. Holding on to the last person he had left.

Bakugou shook his head and forced himself to stretch out of the bed, but with every painstaking movement he wished he could crawl back in.

He had turned into a coward.

He had spent nearly nine hours scavenging for supplies around the city. And for nine entire hours he felt more insect than man, picking off scraps from someone else's rotted home.

It made him sick to his stomach.

Uraraka had spent most of the day in bed resting, as she promised. Though she did protest for half an hour as they shared their last packet stale pop tarts. But he could tell, even the arguing had made her tired.

It made him nervous for this journey ahead. He brough his hands down his neck and sighed.

The best bet was to aim for the country side, to a less densely populated area from before, where it would be easier to start over.

Bakugo scoffed at himself as he slid on his pants he had thrown to the side of the bed before he he went to bed.

As if starting over was possible.
There was no starting over from this. Much less for him.

And yet the night before, when their hands graced one another's for just a moment-

A soft knock sounded at the door, interrupting his thoughts. "Are you up?"

The softness in his voice was both a curse an a blessing. 

"Yeah." he grumbled and opened the door. "How are you feeling?"

Her eyes widened with surprise at the sight of him and blinked quickly. "I'm feeling good! Ready to go!"

She was both a life raft and a tidal wave.

The smile plastered across her face was forced. And so, he chose to ignore it and pushed pass her. "Fine."

She did not look good.
She looked exhausted, weak. Her skin was pale and the bags under her eyes were worse than he'd seen even during their exam weeks at school. She did not look ready for a painstaking cross country journey. She barely looked ready for a trip across the hall.

What are they thinking?

He moved into the living room, where their two large bags sat ready to go. He had packed them last night and they were full of as much food, medicine, blankets, and gear he could find. But it wasn't enough. It wouldn't last them longer than a few days.

Bakugofelt fucking useless. Everything was starting to feel useless.

A noise in the kitchen startled him, causing him to turn on his heels. It was Uraraka, two granola bars in one hand and a jug of water in the other.

"Let's get this show on the road!" She was smiling, unnaturally chipper.

Bakugou stared at her in horror. "What the hell is that? This isn't some fucking road-trip."