NEVER WOULD SHE HAVE IMAGINED WAKING UP IN KATSUKI BAKUGO'S HOUSE. She'd fallen asleep on the couch, worn out by her emotions, only to snap awake as a hand touched her shoulder. A shield was up before she could even comprehend what was happening. Bakugo, eyes flickering from her groggy expression to the wall of blue shoving his hand back, scoffed and pointed at the kitchen table, mumbling a "Breakfast," before shuffling over to the hook where their backpacks hung by the door.
She slowly rose from her curled position, taking a moment to fold the blanket, where did it come from, it smells good, like candy, and drifted over to the plate of steaming food. Buttered toast and scrambled eggs, with red flakes sprinkled over the top. It was some sort of spice, she decided, after the initial burning taste. Not an unpleasant taste, but just enough to wake her up fully. As she ate, Kendria realized there was more to the house than she noticed the night before.
There were coats and bags strewn around the living room, shoes placed neatly in front of the doormat. The coffee table housed coasters and mugs that defied the rules of coaster usage. Picture frames adorned the countertops, displaying childhood wonder and family bonding. She almost couldn't believe the grinning boy in the photos -- bright eyed, missing a tooth, and laughing -- was the same Bakugo that screamed and glared and blew things up.
Well, the childish behavior made it easier to believe.
"The hag left your uniform in the bathroom," said Bakugo, breaking her from her trance. He'd snuck into the kitchen without her noticing. "Eat and get changed, and then we'll head out to scho --" He cut off, eyes narrowing at her. She stared back, brow raised in question as she shoveled another forkful of eggs into her mouth. Finally, Bakugo looked away, covering his face and muttering obscenities.
"What?" He was already in his uniform, bag slung over his shoulder, both shoes tied. What could be wrong? He seemed ready to go, why the sudden change of thought?
Bakugo stole a glance at her, then kicked the back of the couch. "She gave you my clothes."
She blinked. His clothes? The night before, Mitsuki had given her a shirt and a pair of sweatpants to sleep in while her uniform ran through the wash. She hadn't questioned it, just slipped on the soft clothing and curled up on the corner of the couch. The shirt smelled like the mystery blanket, like candy. Caramel, to be more specific.
Her eyes widened at the realization. I'm wearing his clothes. She tore her gaze away from him, instead staring at the plate in front of her. "Ah. Well then, I ... um, sorry." Standing abruptly, she carried her plate and fork to the sink. "I'll just ... go change." Avoiding eye contact, she all but ran to the bathroom.
Locking the door, she turned and watched her reflection in the mirror. Well. That was ... embarrassing. Her cheeks were flushed pink, already fading back to normal. She shook her head and changed into her uniform, allowing herself to wonder why the smell of caramel? as she brushed out her hair with what she assumed to be Mitstuki's hairbrush.
By the time she was ready to go, laces tied and everything, Bakugo was already out the door, hands in his pockets and shoulders hunched. "You mention this to anyone, I'll kill you." Try as he might, the mask of intimidation failed to hide his embarrassment.
"Trust me," she said, twisting her bracelets, "I won't tell a soul." Bakugo glanced down at her wrists, before sighing and reaching into the pocket of his bag. He shoved something in her face, confusion swamping her before she could register the object clenched in his fist.
It was her bracelet. The one with the wooden flower, yellow like the flowers in the paradise. So much had happened lately, she didn't even realize it was missing.
"Found it on the floor at school," Bakugo muttered, head turned away from her. "Figured the stupid thing must mean something, since you've got six of 'em."
She blinked at him, taking the bracelet and clasping it around her wrist once more. "Thank you." They walked in silence, neither having any idea what to say, and definitely not wanting to talk about her breakdown. She was almost ready to explode when Bakugo coughed and said, "So, our teacher is your uncle. That's ... weird."
"Yeah." A smile pulled at her lips at the thought of Aizawa's stupid, ugly sleeping bag. "He's not very teacher-like, is he?" The boy beside her snorted, rolling his eyes at the understatement.
"I could do a better job than him."
"Oh, you think you could? I'd pay to see that, Bakugo, I actually would."
"What are you saying? You wanna fight?! I'll kill you!"
"Of course you will, of course."
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