I got released Monday afternoon, at 1 p.m., with instructions on how to treat my bandages and what not to do. I could take them off in a week, as I would most likely be healed by then.
It was difficult, walking down the slight steps and stepping onto the bus, sitting down. I was wearing a loose hoodie the hospital lent me, to avoid compression on my bandages, but if I bent too much one way everything 'collided' and it hurt. I could handle it, though.
But I'm hungry. That porridge shit really isn't good. I need some real food. But I don't know what. Chicken? Some type of takeout? Wait... I might have some meat in the fridge since... Wednesday. It shouldn't be spoiled yet, right? I mean, my fridge is pretty cold.
I try to lean back in the seat, to get comfortable, only to wince in pain. My bones creaked at the movement and bruises got rubbed the pressing of the seat into my back. I guess I'd be forcing myself to sit straight for a while now. Luckily, I heal quick.
I stare out the window as the city passed by, people milling about on the streets. I ended up getting lost in thought, wondering what I should do about this past Saturday. I mean, a rude and asshole of a classmate made me cry for the first time in ten years.
How am I supposed to see him after that? We live on the same block. Take the same bus to school. I mean, what made that ass say those words to me? Was it that terrible what I did?
But, he can't be all that bad. He did bring me fried chicken. That's a major plus. So, I'll treat him as someone who is coming into my good graces. Food friends are always needed.
I was snapped back to reality when the bus pulled to a stop, somehow at my stop. Groaning as I grab my back and stand up, I walk off the bus with a huff, a light breeze wafting about me. I begin my path down the three blocks, past the large beige house until my one story house.
I grab my key out of my bag, unlocking it and letting myself in. The air was so still, unused for a couple of days. I sighed and locked the door behind me, walking over to the sofa. Tossing my bag on the coffee table, I pick up the remote, turn the tv on, and spend almost ten minutes trying to sit comfortably before I turned my romantic comedy drama on.
********************
"She needs the pain. With how her Quirk works, the faster she gets used to the pain, the more she can use it. The more we can experiment." The scientists argued behind the mirrored window, leaving the mic on. They talked about me like I didn't even exist, like I was a rat in a lab.
My little body was huddled in the corner, tears pressing hard to fall but would not come out. My body was healing from the practice I just had, from the fight training, from the man with a black bird mask that hid his face and hurt me more than Mr. Enji. My canines pocked my bottom lio painfully, my Blood Quirk staying on no matter what.
"She's still just eight We should hold back just a bit for today." The nicer of the two said while the other one snorted. "We can't have her begin to awaken her Air Quirk due to the pain yet. That would be too much for us."
My Air Quirk? They never talk about that with me around. The scientists practically ignored it, focusing solely on my Blood Quirk and the training me. Only allow me usage to sense my surroundings.
"She's fine. The pain intake of increased with age. I am starting the next session." The second scientist and fear rammed through my young body. I heard a sigh, some moving around, and my young muscles tensed, preparing for the pain.
"Three..." a button was pressed and that high pitched noise filled the room. I didn't bother to cover my ears, digging my face between my knees. "Two..." it was useless to ask them to stop. They never listened.
"One." I screamed in pain as little needles flung in my direction, puncturing my skin to draw blood. My face was protected, but my arms, legs, and back eas covered in needles. I could feel my flesh heal over the needles and I let out a childish, gruesome pain of noise.
"Mira, start taking the needles out now." Despite the oain, my body was used to their orders. So, one by one I began pulling the needles out, the sharp edges cutting my fingers and flesh again and again.
Slowly, by the time someone with their face covered came in to pull out my back needles, my body went numb from the pain.
I opened my eyes, staring up at the ceiling that flashed with the lights from the television. My body tingled in memory pain, remembering the slices of all those needles. That scientist wasn't lying when he said that I would get used to the pain: I can cut myself with no problem.
I took in a shuddering breath and let it out slowly. I was laying as flat as I could on the sofa, having got used to the pain from the bruises. I closed my eyes and took in another breath, my hands tightening on each other.
I never understood why, over the past years I was trapped in that place, they put so much effort into training my body. What does it mean to them? Why were they so obsessed with my Blood Quirk? Why was Mr. Enji obsessed with my Air Quirk.
Questions I shouldn't bother myself with.
My eyes popped open as a loud knocking was sounded on the door. I groaned.
"Yeah, give me a sec!" I shouted, needing to find a way to sit up. What time is it? Who'd be at the door? I'm not in a mood to see some stranger doing scams.
Another loud knock sounded and I didn't have the energy to shout, pushing myself up, bones creaking. Swinging my legs softly to touch the floor, still wearing my boots, I slowly stand up. Now walking lethargically towards the door, I waited for the third, now even louder knocking, to finish before I opened my door.
"Who is it?" I asked, my voice annoyed. "Oh, hey Shoto and- what are you doing here?" My voice raised a bit in surprise, eyes sliding from Shoto to the ash-blonde male with a frown on his face. Both wearing UA uniforms. Both giving each other glances. Both here at my front door.
"I have some shit to give you." Bakugo said with a deep, slightly annoyed voice.
"Can we come in, Mira?" Shoto asked, walking forward with a side-glance to Bakugo. I nodded, moving to the side to allow them through. I stared after their heads as I closed the door, both used to the setup of my house.
Shoto placed his briefcase on the table, unbuttoned his blazer and turned to look at me, frowning slightly. "You still have your boots on?"
I nodded, tapping the ground slightly as Bakugo slammed his briefcase on the table and opened it, ruffling through it.
"I couldn't bend over to take it off so I just left it on." I replied, eying Bakugo suspiciously.
"Here, sit down. I'll take them off for you." Shoto said, Bakugo tsking angrily in response. I just nodded and made my way to the sofa, the screen still playing, Shoto turning on the kitchen light. I sat down, hiding my pain as I bent over slightly, sitting up straight Shoto kneeled on the floor and took my left foot in his hand.
"What are you two doing here?" I asked again, hoping for a better answer this time.
"I wanted to check on you, since I wasn't able to help you with the discharge." Shoto said, sliding my boot off my foot after untying it, now picking up the other one. I would have been embarrassed if this were anyone else, but I mean, he's pulled swords and shrapnel out of me. A boot is o big deal.
"And you, angry man slamming papers on my table?" I asked, seeing his shoulders rise at my question. He turned to look over his shoulder at me, frowning.
"I'm not angry!" Yeah, if that's what you say. "I was forced to give you your fucking school work from general classes." He growled, going back to slamming down a paper packet that was surprisingly still flat.
"Why not you?" I asked Shoto as he walked away with my boots.
"Because I don't live two houses away." Shoto said in a quiet voice, something irking me about it. I ignored that and tried to push myself to standing when my stomach growled. Loudly. "Are you hungry?" Shoto asked, returning to my side with slippers for my feet.
I nodded, feeling disappointed in the hospital. "Yeah. The hospital sucks. Loose porridge isn't the type of food you feed to someone who needs the energy for healing." I grumble, trying to stand up but feeling Shoto press me down on my shoulder.
"I'll cook you dinner." I snorted at that, looking up into his confused heterochromatic eyes. "What? I can cook."
"You can only cook soba noodles, Shoto."
He frowned. "Every house has soba noodles. I will be able to make it just fine." I shook my head.
"I don't have soba." Shoto's face fell and I tapped his shoulder, seeing Bakugo close up his briefcase. "I'll cook something. It'll be fine."
"Why don't you just order something?"
"Because I left meat in the fridge and I want to cook it before it's officially spoiled." I said, trying to push myself up once again only to be held back by Shoto once more. "Just let me cook-"
An annoyed growl was sounded out and I turned my gaze to see Bakugo angrily opening my fridge door, his briefcase back on the table. He scanned it quickly, pulling out the pack of thin steak I unthawed starting Wednesday, and smelt it.
"Bakugo, why are you smelling the steak?" Shoto asked, standing up to watch him with a confused look.
Bakugo just gave him a glare, putting the steak on the island. "I'm checking to see if it's spoiled Half-and-Half bastard." Bakugo huffed angrily, back in the fridge.
"Well, why are you checking?" Shoto brushed off the name like nothing, asking my own questions.
Bakugo closed the fridge with some stir-fry veggies in his hands, glaring at Shoto than I. "Because you can't fucking cook and Vampy can't fucking move and her stomachs as loud as a fucking car."
Ahhh. He's cooking for us. Wait - "You can cook without burning down the house?" My voice asked, honestly surprised.
Bakugo sneered and placed the veggies down, unbuttoning his messy blazer. "I'm not going to fucking burn the house down!"
"Yeah, yeah." I didn't believe him at all. Clapping noises sounded and my attention was drawn to the television. I cursed silently, picking up the remote and rewinding my episode to the beginning.
"I'll help." Shoto said, rolling up his sleeves as Bakugo washed his hands. I didn't hear what exactly he said in response, but it was along the lines of telling Shoto to shut up, wash his hands, and cut some onions.
As I reached the beginning of my episode, I glance once more at the males in my kitchen. Both with their sleeves rolled up, exposing forearms that were toned and strong when lifting things. I turned away in time before I felt a strong pair of eyes land on me, now focused on the episode I slept through.
I must have woken up in a separate universe to have someone I almost stabbed with chicken skewers cooking me dinner now when I was injured.
Again, I glanced over to the males, tilting my head to hide my eyes behind my veil of hair. Bakugo was cleaning the meat and Shoto was tentatively peeling onions. My eyes lingered on Bakugo a second longer.
He really must not be a bad person on the inside.
I turned my gaze back to my show and decided to let them cook in peace/violence for now. Bakugo was right - I can barely move without pain. So I'll just sit here and look lazy.
********************
"Thanks. Wow, it actually smells good." I mutter, Shoto placing a bowl in my hands as I adjusted my seating on the sofa. We weren't going to eat a normal dinner, according to Shoto, since he didn't want me to move.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Bakugo shouted, coming to sit on the armchair, his own bowl in his hands.
"It's a compliment, relax." I sighed, looking at the steak stir-fry Bakugo, with some help from Shoto, had made.
"Bakugo was really efficient in cutting and cooking the meat. It was quite a wonder." Shoto said, going to get his own bowl. I ignored how Bakugo yelled at Shoto, picking up my utensil and a piece of meat. With another sniff, I place it in my mouth.
"Mmm." I sighed, the hot meat melting on my tongue. It carried some heat, which I enjoyed, personally. Great seasoning, and being fresh off the stove it was hot. I continued to eat, Shoto also surprised that it tasted good.
"Mph-" I swallowed my food. "If you guys are staying any longer, you can pick a movie." I said, taking a break after almost choking on stuffing my face. I looked up to see Bakugo already in the process of doing so.
"I know already." Bakugo frowned, scrolling through my Netflix. "What's with all these fucking dramas?"
"Don't judge my taste." Was all I said as I began to stuff the second half of my bowl in my mouth, really enjoying the flavoring of the food. My mouth stung a bit from the heat, but it was a pleasant sting.
Bakugo picked a movie pretty quick, and Shoto got me another bowl. The movie was, after the opening credits, Angel Has Fallen. Movie I haven't seen before. I had seen the first two, however.
It was pretty quiet and peaceful as we watched the movie, other than some commentary on my part that made Bakugo yell at me to shut up.
When I finished my second bowl, I placed it on the coffee table with 'some' trouble. Then I began to adjust my spot with pillows so I could recline at an angle, getting shouted at by Bakugo to tell me be quiet before calming down at seeing a flash of pain on my face.
Shoto, who sat by my feet, helped me adjust. Then I watched the movie with vivid interest. Horror/action movies and romantic comedies. Plus the taste of anime.
Right as the movie ended, Shoto's phone rang out. We both knew that wasn't a good sign.
"I'll be right back."Shoto muttered, glaring down as he pulled his phone out. He walked over to the kitchen and began to talk on the phone.
"What time is it?" I asked Bakugo, turning my gaze to my bag, my phone inside. Bakugo didn't make any noise of annoyance as he pulled his phone out and checked for me.
'It's 7 p.m." He said in a low tone, stuffing his phone back into his pocket.
Seven... Shoto has to leave, doesn't he?
"Mira, that was Fuyumi. My father requires my presence." Shoto said, his eyes darkening. I nodded, fully expecting that.
"So you're leaving." I sigh, about to push myself up to walk Shoto out. He came over to me and patted my shoulder.
"Just sit down." His lips twitched upwards ever so slightly. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"
I nodded and Shoto stepped back, his face blank except for the annoyance in his eyes. I watched, in a surprising silence as Bakugo didn't say anything, as Shoto packed his items and put his shoes on.
"See you tomorrow." I wave to him and he nodded at me. Then the door open and closed and he was gone.
I groaned, laying my head back on the propped up pillow. Of course his father wants him. He always has something to say to Shoto. I open my eyes and look to the male who had a frown on his face, thoughts in his eyes.
"Can we watch another movie?" I asked, not ready to sleep just yet, though I could feel the onslaught of sleepiness coming.
Bakugo's eyes snapped to mine, raising one brow and sneering. His sneer fell into a frown and his eyebrow went back down. "Fine." His voice was gruff as he grabbed the remote and began looking for another movie to watch.
********************
After we argued, we settled on AVA, and I ended staying awake through the movie.
Afterwards, Bakugo would not let me clean up, about to tape me onto the sofa with our argument. I watched in annoyance as Bakugo put the tiniest leftovers away and washed the dishes. Afterwards, he grabbed his UA blazer and briefcase, and I stood up to lock the door behind him.
I glanced at the papers on the table. My homework. I walked behind Bakugo as he stepped out the house, my hand on the door.
"Bakugo..." I call to him, and he stopped, his eyes bright under the moon. "Thanks for bringing my work. For cooking. For watching movies with me." I said with full sincerity. I wonder what I would have done if I was given time to wallow on my memories.
Bakugo tilted his head back and smirked slightly. "You better be on time tomorrow." He turned away and walked off my property. I sighed and closed the door, making sure to lock it.
I guess, after all this, I consider Bakugo a... well, I guess a friend. Great.
I get my phone out of my bag before I made my way to my room. Time to change.
I first took my hoodie off, struggling to raise my hands high above my head. I managed with little pain. I grabbed the largest shirt I had and dropped it on top. Now, onto the sweatpants I also got from the hospital.
This was going to hurt.
I tried to do it standing up, but when I needed to bend over to push the band down my hips, well... that hurt quite a bit. I tried sitting down but that also hurt. So, I ended up grabbing my brushes, putting the bristles on the fabric inside my pants, and slid them down to as far as my hands reached. When I removed the brushes, the pants fell down to my ankles and I stepped out of them, leaving the pants in the middle of the floor.
I brushed my teeth, and washed my face with lots of splashing my shirt. Then I took some time to get comfortable on my bed, grabbed my phone, and sent Yuuko a message stating that I was fine.
Then, after a lot of adjusting, I drifted off to sleep.
Short chapter, I know! I hope you enjoy reading!