𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐨𝐧 | b.k.

Chapter Thirty-Two

32.
Chapter Thirty-Two : Weakness

By morning, everyone in town knows that the pretty house up on the hill was burnt down. Everyone knows that Y/n barely escaped the hasty flames and that Izuku was lost in the fire. Everyone except for Y/n.

After Y/n was cleared by the doctor, Katsuki took it upon himself to take her back to his place. Her home was gone so there was nowhere else for her to go. Y/n didn't say anything the whole way there.

She sat there in silence, her body swaying side-to-side in rhythm with the horse's strides. Katsuki was seated behind her with his arms caging her in, providing support so that she won't fall out of the saddle. He says nothing. He doesn't know what to say.

Eventually they reach their destination, and after facing the Bakugou's friendly interrogation, she was finally able to rest.

When the morning came, Y/n was woken up by the smell of breakfast. Her first thought was Izuku; he was making breakfast and it smelled so good. She sat up in the bed and stretched, squeezing her eyes shut and groaning as her joints twisted. She'll open her eyes and with a muffled yawn, she realizes that this isn't her bed. This isn't her bed and this isn't her room. She's not at home.

Images of the fire flash before her very eyes. She saw her house crumbling all over again and she could smell the wood burning. She could smell the smoke filling her room and as it inevitably began to fill her lungs, she remembered the feeling of death gripping at her conscious mind.

All of that is swatted away when the bedroom door opens. She sits up straighter and she releases a shaky breath. Mitsuki is the one who knocked on the door. She offers a pitiful smile as she wiggles through the small space she gave herself, shutting the door behind her.

"Good mornin', Sweetie. How're you feeling?" She asks, her voice soft and quiet.

She blinks. "I'm okay..." She mutters, "Uhm... How is the house? Did everyone else get out ok?"

Mitsuki purses her lips. If she looked like she pitied Y/n before, she definitely pities her now. She shifts her gaze to the floor and she begins to fidget with the skirt of her dress.

"Sweetie... I'm sorry but uhm... Izuku's body wasn't recovered..." Her sentence is broken as she tries to break the news in the nicest way possible. She tries not to overwhelm Y/n with the news and even then, the tears in her eyes are instant.

Things were starting to get so good. Everything was happening just the way she wanted to. After two long years of pain and depression, she was finally happy and she was looking forward to a long life full of happiness beside Izuku Midoriya. Now? Now that was all gone.

Mitsuki's heart breaks at the sight of Y/n as the news hits. She was perked up full of hope—hoping to hear some good news—and like a flower at the end of summer, she deflated. Y/n crumbled upon hearing Mitsuki's words as, brutal pain ripping through her body and grabbing onto her heart. Tears pour from her eyes.

Mitsuki doesn't know what to do at first. She's never been an emotional woman and her husband, Masaru, was more cut out for comforting people in distress... She briefly considers going to find him. Instead after some careful thinking, she decides to take a seat beside Y/n and she pulls Y/n into a tight hug.

Days pass and the Bakugou family watches in horror and pity as Y/n becomes a husk of a human being.

The woman spends days sat in Katsuki's bed with dried tears staining her cheeks and his pillows. She doesn't eat and she doesn't speak. She has no more tears to cry, so there she lies with thoughts—regrets—swarming her mind.

Izuku was gone, his funeral was two days ago and she missed it. He was put to rest at the church alongside his mother and father. Katsuki said it was a nice ceremony.

Her family's home was nothing but ruin.

Logically, Y/n knew it wasn't her fault but she couldn't help but wonder if Izuku would still be alive if she had done things differently. She wondered if the house her father built would still be standing tall if she did something different. It was hard not to blame herself when she was the only survivor...

The Bakugou's house is empty when Y/n finally sits up. It's around noon and everyone is at work. Something on her had changed and she decided to get up. It must've been because her sides were getting sore or she truly couldn't go much longer without food. It was something that made her swing her feet over Katsuki's bed and place them on the floor.

Her bones trembled as she sat up and heaved a deep breath, her eyes scanning the room. Katsuki had a small room in his parents' house, but it was so him. There were dirty rugs on the floor and he had his boots strewn around the room, a pile of dirty clothes in the corner. His window was open, providing a nice breeze that Y/n deeply appreciated. There's an old Western saddle set atop a worn blanket in the corner, propped up on a stool. Sitting just below the saddle is a stack of books with a thin layer of dust covering the fabric-covers.

Katsuki is a mess, but he is intelligent. And that's reflected in his room.

Y/n takes a minute to find the strength to stand, and when she does it feels as though she hasn't moved in decades. It's that feeling that has her falling to the ground. She doesn't try to move. She doesn't even really breathe. She just lays there—wanting to cry but too weak to even muster the tears.