I'm not okay, Ei.
So can you go home, please?
*
Bakugo didn't groan or grumble as he usually did that morning when he sat up in bed after barely sleeping the night before. He simply let out a short puff of air through his nose, a defeated sigh as he told himself to accept the last 12 hours of his life had really happened and they weren't a fever dream.
Not that he slept enough to dream in the first place. He screamed silence into Ren's pillow all night. Dry-crying nothing into the linen until his aching eyes and sore throat forced him to give up. He didn't have to ask himself why it hurt so much, he knew. He just wished she did too.
His swollen eyes darted around her room, at the half-tidied and half-packed things scattered around what was normally a fairly tidy space. Her suitcase sat next to her desk, meant to be ready for them to head to his house for the break the afternoon before.
Yesterday, he couldn't wait to get home. To spend uninterrupted time with his girlfriend. He wanted them to do all the cheesy stuff he'd seen in the lame romantic comedies she'd made him watch. Go on a picnic, bake together, have a shopping montage trying on ridiculous outfits until one of them came out in the perfect one. For what, who cares?
Bakugo slipped out of Ren's bed, cursing himself for making her bed smell like him. He took a last glance around the room, trying to make himself agree that he couldn't and shouldn't come back here. His vision tunnelled to the door handle, the sooner he was out the better he'd feel.
His fingers had just grazed the metal handle when something called out to him. Not literally, maybe spiritually. Bakugo glanced behind him at Ren's now unmade bed. Her whale shark plushie he'd bought for her on their first date, smooshed and contorted into the corner against the wall.
He snapped his attention back to the door in front of him. Shaking his head and furrowing his brow to cast the thought from his head. He wrapped his fingers around the door handle, ready to push down and pull the door open but the damned thing called out to him again.
Bakugo cursed himself again. Snatching the fat blue thing so quickly it was like he was hiding the shame from a loud audience of judgemental people. Tucking the plush under his arm, he prepared to leave again, taking in one last look at her room and feeling the stabbing and uncomfortably heavy twinge of pain in his chest as he did.
He didn't care if someone did see him in the hallway but he left silently all the same. Closing the door in the way he'd learnt made the least amount of sound and avoiding specific floorboards he knew creaked in the early morning until he reached the stairwell. He hadn't checked the time yet that morning but he knew it was early.
Too early even for Iida. Not that the class rep would be harassing them the morning after an event like that.
Once he was back in his own room, a sight he thought would be comforting but only made him feel more empty, he decided to check his phone. He'd turned it off the night before when the constant buzzing of messages and calls after call from friends and family checking up on him. He sat on the edge of his bed as the screen lit up, taking the time to scratch at a little dent on the side next to the on button.
A few bubbles popped up and then the screen flooded with missed call notifications and messages from people he didn't remember giving his number to. None of them from the person he most wanted to hear from, and most of them from his mother. Bakugo scrolled through the list of missed calls from his mother, the most recent being only twenty minutes earlier.
He was probably being unfair, she must've been worried sick about him. A fresh message blipped at the top of his screen, also from his mother.
Old Hag
Katsuki, we don't have to talk about it.
The school is offering to escort students
home or have their parents collect them.
We just need to know what you
want to do.
Katsuki
I'll go with the school.
Old Hag
Thank you. We'll see you at home.
He tapped the side of his phone a few times.
Katsuki
I'm sorry, mom.
Old Hag
I'm just glad you're okay.
But he wasn't okay. And she knew that. He was alive, unharmed aside from a few cuts and bruises, but far from okay.
He sighed, slowly sitting up from his bed and scanning around for his mostly packed bag. Bakugo almost regretted his decision to go home with the school. Now he'd have to wait longer than if he'd agreed to go with his parents. But going with his parents meant being closer to questions of are you okays and what would make you feel betters.
He considered sneaking out of the dorm before anyone else was up and taking the train home but that would also lead him closer to those questions and likely more trouble.
He sighed again. Electing to just gather the last of his things and sit in the living room downstairs with headphones on and eyes glued to nothing in particular on his phone. Everywhere he scrolled, news reports and threads of the evening before popped up and clogged his phone with more of what he didn't want to occupy his wait time with.
Eventually, he settled with watching Hells Kitchen. A show that normally brought him joy and entertainment but now also felt dry, uneventful and boring.
Other members of the class slowly emerged as the morning progressed. No one sparing him more than a glance, their years of living together finally having taught them to leave him alone when he was in a particularly foul mood. A few of them filtered out, leaving with packed bags without breakfast and quick goodbyes.
Bakugo had upped the volume on his phone so his headphones would block out any potential conversation or irritating noises. When they were ready to take him home, someone would surely tap on his shoulder or gain his attention. He sunk into the couch, eyes lulling and glazing over. He hoped the lack of sleep was finally taking over and he could try fit in an hour or so of some sleep. But a hullabaloo of movement in the hallway annoyingly caught his attention and forced him to look up.
Three men in suits, accompanied by an always tired Aizawa stood before one of the elevators blocked by Uraraka. Bakugo arched a brow and slipped his headphones off as more of those who were downstairs noticed too and gathered to see what the fuss was all about.
"... You can't just take all of her stuff!" He caught the end of Uraraka's defiant bark. "What gives you the right?!"
"I'm sorry young lady, we have showed your school and your teacher the warrant." One of the suits said.
"Uraraka, you have to step aside." Aizawa advised as he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.
"No!" Uraraka hit his hand away. "What is she gonna use when she gets back?!"
Aizawa grimaced.
"We'll take the stairs." One of the other suits said. "Please ensure the path is clear once we start bringing items down."
Aizawa nodded.
"No!" Uraraka took off to stop them but Aizawa gripped onto her shoulder again. A lot tighter this time.
"Is there any chance any of your other students would have her things in their room?" One of the other suits asked Aizawa before he opened a file and flicked through a few pages. "It says here Arakawa was in a relationship with one of your other students, a Mister Katsuki Bakugo?"
Bakugo sunk further into his seat. The last thing he wanted to do right now was unlock his room to a trio of suited up collectors of evidence and watch them palm through all of his stuff on the off chance they'd find something of her's. Of course they would, including the stupid whale shark he'd shoved into his bag.
Aizawa's eyes darted over to Bakugo for a second while the investigators were still rummaging through their file. Bakugo's brow knitted briefly as his eyes met Aizawa's.
"No. There wouldn't be." Aizawa said plainly, his vision returned to those in front of him.
"How about your room, young lady?" They asked Uraraka.
"Ren didn't really like to share." Uraraka snapped as her eyes narrowed.
"Mind if we take a peak?"
"I do, actually."
"Do you have a warrant to search any of my other students rooms?" Aizawa asked as he dropped grip on the now steady Uraraka, folding his arms over his chest.
"Well... Not exactly, but-"
"Then no." Aizawa cut him off.
"We'd just be having a look around."
"If you so much as breathe on another one of my student's belongings, I'll personally escort you off of the premises."
Uraraka smirked and glanced over her shoulder at her teacher.
The one who'd made the suggestion cleared his throat awkwardly. "Well... I suppose we'll find what we're looking for in Arakawa's room."
"I'm sure that's where you'll have the most luck." Aizawa narrowed his tired eyes and tilted his head towards the stairwell. He shook his head as the suited men headed up the stares, tutting while he followed with Ren's key.
Bakugo peeled his attention away from the hallway, returning to his phone and the meaningless mush that was barely distracting him. It wasn't long before his eyes lulled again. Sentences spoken by incompetent chefs broke and changed topic as he fell asleep for seconds between dialogue. He breathed a sigh of relief as he felt himself slipping into a doze.
He almost audibly swore when voices coming from the stairwell pierced his headphones and shook him awake. He wasn't sure how long he'd managed to get shuteye, but it was long enough for the three suited morons to come back down with archive boxes overflowing with Ren's things. Bakugo sat up in his seat, watching as they exited with her stuff in their position, more people turning up behind them who must've come in while he was dozing.
He spied one of his shirts; the very first shirt he'd ever leant to her peaking out from the lid of an archive box and his stomach lurched. Bakugo bolted up, feeling his body move towards the thieves and ready to tackle them for her belongings but a tug on his shoulder pulled him back and brought his mind back in control.
"Our car is ready, Kacchan." Midoriya said quietly but firmly, having obviously read what Bakugo was about to do.
"I should've guessed you'd be thrown in to carpool with me." Bakugo snapped back as he rolled his shoulder away from Midoriya. "They better take me home first. I can't stomach being around any of this anymore."
Bakugo turned to collect his things without sparing Midoriya a glance. He kept his eyes down as they headed past the production line of Ren's possessions towards the entrance and focused intently on his shoes when a box that must've been carrying a bottle of her knocked around perfume passed him. His stomach lurched again, this time enough to bring up the vile and acidic contents of his empty stomach into the back of his throat.
Even after she'd been dragged away by the body of municipal water, bled, muddied and spewed, her ocean spray and coconut perfume had still lingered on her neck. The scent that on any other day he would revel in breathing was now making him silently retch as the muscle memory of her hand slipping from his stung his palm.
Bakugo sprung up and shoved the forensic investigator who was entering the building at the same time he chose to exit. He stomped down the steps, hearing Midoriya give a stuttered apology on his behalf.
There was a car waiting to the side of a group of blacked out vans and posh sedans. Bakugo tried not to look at the expanding stash of his girlfriend's things. Tried and failed.
Could I even call her my girlfriend?
His stomach lurched once again, so heavily this time he had to stop in his tracks a few mere steps from the car. Much to his irritation, stopping long enough for Midoriya to catch up. As he expected he would, Midoriya was about to ask if he was okay when a booming voice and shuffling gravel so loud it may have come from a tank came hurtling towards them.
"Yyyyooooung Bakuuuugooooo!" All Might's heroic voice, followed very quickly by his muscular frame skidded to a halt in front of the car. "I am h-BLEGH!"
A stream of blood poured down his chin as his muscles poofed into nothing. Bakugo's eyes didn't leave the car. He ignored All Might, opening the door and sliding in with his bag before shutting it again quietly.
"Jeez, I was hoping for a glance at least." All Might mumbled as he wiped his chin. "I wasted my ten daily seconds for nothin'."
"I don't think Kacchan's in the mood to be cheered up." Midoriya muttered to All Might. "I think he just wants to be at home, and alone."
The car ride was expectedly awkward and quiet. Bakugo reverting back to having his headphones blast anything loudly in his ears to try and drown out the thoughts gnawing in his brain. Even though his attention was elsewhere, the other three present felt like any conversation or normality would be rude and insulting to him, and so they were all dead silent.
Midoriya's house would have been easier to go to first but when they pulled into his street, Bakugo suspected he must've requested they get him home first. He glanced at Midoriya as the car stopped in front of his house, giving him a curt nod before he grabbed his bag and climbed out of the car. Midoriya rubbed his chin as he watched Bakugo fiddle for his keys and unlock the front door.
"I can hear you thinking from here, Young Midoriya." All Might said as he glanced over his shoulder. "A dangerous pastime when done by you."
'Hmm.' He mumbled back. "It doesn't add up..."
"What doesn't?"
"Nothing." He peeled his eyes away once Bakugo had disappeared into his house. "I'm just... Worried about Kacchan. I hope he's okay."
Bakugo slipped his shoes off as he entered his house, letting them fall together neatly as he adjusted the grip on his bag.
"I'm home." He called into the house quietly. Unlike the last time he came home, footsteps immediately scurried towards the entrance and he was greeted by the paled faces of his parents.
"K-Katsuki-" His mother stammered. "We, I- Welcome ho-"
"I'm going to unpack." He cut her off without giving either of them a greeting glance and pushed past between them. His parents exchanged a worried look. Inexperienced with, and unsure of how to deal with a son who was upset rather than angry.
Bakugo tried not to think about what would have been. How he would have gotten home the day before with Ren's fingers interlocked with his. How his mother would have teased him and his father would have given her a hug. How he would have come into his room with her and she would help him unpack and probably steal one of his shirts in the process.
He entered his room that suddenly felt so foreign, so unlike his own home, almost as if his family had moved in his absence and his room had been unpacked and labeled as his when he had no input. Bakugo dropped his bag on his bed and reached for the zipper but a lack of care gripped at his chest.
What was the point of doing it right now?
It's not like unpacking would make him feel better and he'd just have to repack in a couple of weeks time. His hands dropped against the bag, and gripping the material he slowly slid it off of his bed until it hit the floor with a sad clunk.
He dropped onto his bed, deciding to look at his phone for the first time since he left the school. Again, a stream of messages from people he didn't care to hear from clogged his screen. Bakugo scrolled through the names and numbers he didn't recognise, a small but foolish part of him hoping to see Freckles pop up in the mix.
The only message he chose to address was from Kirishima updating him on Ashido's condition, and a few other of their classmates who'd been injured. They were all fine; tired and a few would have scars but fine nonetheless. He breathed a sigh of relief before he locked and dropped is phone next to him.
He glanced around at his room from his spot on his stomach, face half smooshed into his bedding. Though they'd been patched up and smoothed over since, he focused on places he'd destroyed the last time he was at home and upset. A hole in the wall here, a scorched floor there, broken bookshelves or smashed in trophies. He wondered if that sense of rage would grip him at some point. He wished it would.
Anything was better than feeling this.
Bakugo felt his eyes droop and after a night of failed attempts to sleep, he let the drowsiness take him, and as he did he tried to push away any thoughts of Ren and the nightmare he lived in for the last 24 hours.
At some hour that felt like it could have been early evening or early morning, Bakugo was jolted awake by a knocking at his door and the soft calling of his name. In the past if his mother had tried to wake him, she would barge in if he hadn't responded after the first knock and violent summon of his name. This time, he had no idea if she'd been gently tapping at his door and saying his name for a few seconds or a few hours.
"Yeah?" He croaked as he rolled onto his back.
"Dinners ready, made your favourite." She said encouragingly, like his favourite meal would make everything go away.
"Not hungry." He sighed.
His mother was silent and he wasn't sure if she'd just stormed off and rolled her eyes at him or if she was trying to think through her next move.
"I'll leave a dish in the warmer drawer if you change your mind."
Mitsuki left her hand on his door for a second, almost like it was the only way she could pat his back and tell him everything would be alright. She descend the stairs to the kitchen, defeated and racking her brain for any parental advice.
"Nothing?" Masaru asked as she returned to the kitchen, to which Mitsuki shook her head.
"I doubt he had breakfast, and he didn't eat when he got home. I've never seen him like this." She rubbed her sore temples. "Even when All Might retired he still ate like every meal was his last, and he made me stick to his nutritional requirements."
"He's only been home for a few hours, Mitsuki. If yesterday was anything like the media is spinning it to be, it's understandable that he wouldn't be normal. Let's give him some time and some space, okay?"
As the days rolled into the next, Bakugo remained the same as he was the day he returned home. His once stable routine of early morning workouts, healthy meals, study sessions and early nights became a mess of sporadic and messy sleep, food that could barely be labelled as a meal and hours of not paying attention to TV shows, movies and social media.
Bakugo had binged through multiple different shows and films and wouldn't be able to recite the plot of any of them. Hobbies and interests lost their appeal and he would usually give up the activity after only a few minutes of attempting it. The food he ate had no taste regardless of how many spices he added and most of the time he wouldn't finish what he was eating. He barely responded to any messages from friends and if he did they were short and close ended responses.
His days and nights swapped, and he would spend his nights living the meaningless and mundane existence he'd fallen into while he spent days drifting in and out of exhausting nightmares. Bakugo would wake up more tired than when he fell asleep after either spending hours staring into eternal darkness or reliving that day that wouldn't give him a break.
Every movement, every line of spoken dialogue played out to him in perfect detail in a repetitive loop. Only he wasn't forced to relive Ren walking away from him as himself. He was forced to watch as a spectator. Bound and gagged with eyes glued open as he watched himself do nothing to stop her over and over and over again. Finally, he would wake up bolted upright in bed, sweat pouring down his neck and chest and small, harmless sparks setting off in his palms. He would try to stay awake and steer off the dream but he would inevitably fail, only to fall into darkness or his own personal hell.
A few days before they returned to UA, Kirishima invited himself over to check up on his hermit friend. Mitsuki had let him through to Bakugo's room after he'd ignored his messages saying he was at his front door. He knocked several times but Bakugo remained frozen, laying on his side in the centre of his bed, mindlessly scrolling through images on his phone that blurred into one another.
"Hey, man." Kirishima finally said. "I can't begin to imagine how you feel. We don't have to do anything, you don't even have to come out of there I just- I need to know you're okay."
Bakugo tapped the side of his phone a few times before he sighed. He rolled out of bed for something other than a snack or the bathroom for the first time in days and lazily slumped to his door.
"I'm not okay, Ei." Bakugo muttered quietly. He pressed his cheek against the door and sighed. "Remember when you said it wasn't unmanly to cry?"
"I say that to every guy I know." Kirishima said back through the door with an awkward chuckle.
"Hmm. I wish I could. I wish I could say I was sad, and that my heart is broken, and all of the stuff I would never say to your dumb face but you'd know anyway. But I can't. I feel... Nothing, Ei. I'm not okay."
Kirishima was silent, trying to piece together something better than an 'it'll be okay!'
"So can you go home, please?" Bakugo asked, his voice cracking slightly. "And can you stop asking now that you know?"
He peeled himself away from the door, not bothering to wait for an answer from his friend. He half expected Kirishima to bust his door down and give him a lecture but his friend remained silent on the other side.
He slumped back onto his bed, sliding his Minbendo Swetch up to his face and mindlessly scrolling through games knowing he wasn't going to play any of them.
"I miss her too, man." Kirishima finally said before he tapped the door a couple of times as a goodbye.
Bakugo froze. His teeth gritting uncomfortably tightly and his hands uncontrollably shaking his console. He dropped it to the side and curled up into his bed, smothering her plush whale shark as he let his self pity wash over him. It could have been minutes or hours before he let sleep take him again, and he hoped that this time he dreamt of nothing but darkness.
*
"K-ts—i, wa-e -p! W-ke -p!"
"Kat-uki!"
"S-n!"
"I-'s -kay! Y-u ne-d t- wa-e up!"
"Wake! Up!"
A flash of cold water slapped Bakugo in the face and he felt himself stumbling back into a wet tiled wall. He coughed as he regained consciousness, blinded by the bright white tiles in his bathroom as freezing water continued to pour down his body. As his eyes adjusted to the brightness, a pair of warm hands cupped his cheeks and brought his focus up.
"Katsuki, are you okay?"
"M-mom? What the hell are you -?!" He pushed her away before he wiped his mop of wet hair from his face, finally glancing up through wet lashes and burning eyes to see the state his parents were in.
His mother's pyjama sleeves were singed to pieces and burnt parts of her arms peaked through the holes. His father's attire was in worse condition but his skin wasn't scorched. Bakugo glanced down at his hands, smoke emitting from his palms, sweat sliding off of his skin as the cold water cooled him, and his clothing was singed and ripped to pieces. His father turned the water off and offered him a towel, which he took without looking up.
"I'll get you fresh clothing." Masaru said quietly as Mitsuki leant on her knees in front of her son.
"We've heard you having nightmares." She said softly.
"I'm fine. It's nothing." He muttered as he slumped back against the wall of his shower, patting down his face and rubbing his hair.
"It's not nothing, Katsuki." Mitsuki reached out to rub his shoulder but her pulled away. She sighed, sitting up and wiping the wet patch in her hair out of her face. "You'll have to sleep in the guest room until we get you a new bed."
Mitsuki exited as Masaru entered with fresh, unburnt clothing. He placed the folded pile neatly on his bathroom counter, taping the shirt that lay at the top a few times awkwardly. He gave Bakugo a forced half smile before he too left the bathroom.
"Oh, Katsuki." Masaru mumbled, peaking his head through the doorframe. "I'm going to Granny B tomorrow, you're coming with me."
His father didn't usually instruct or demand. He was one to kindly suggest or ask things of Bakugo, of which he usually ignored or dismissed with an eye roll. But in the rare occasions that his dad told him something outright or gave instruction, he listened knowing it was important or for good reason. And so Bakugo nodded once before his father disappeared again.
*
Having slept less than normal and being awake during the day made the car ride to Granny B's exhausting and nauseating. Bakugo was thankful that his father wasn't trying to make conversation as they passed from the suburbs and into the rural green fields. Trees and bushes were in full bloom and dotted brilliant colour across the crisp landscape. The sky was clear of any clouds and the sun shone brightly onto his legs.
A beautiful springtime scene he would have appreciated at any other time if he wasn't immensely sleep deprived, annoyed and trying to shield his eyes from the sunshine.
Granny was already on the porch when they pulled up to her house. She waved at them excitedly, adjusting the vividly patterned shawl that draped over her shoulders. She greeted them both as she normally would, giving Masaru a hug and a kiss on each cheek before she did the same for Bakugo. She didn't hug him extra tight or linger sympathetically like everyone else had been doing. He sighed a grateful little sigh to himself, and for the first time in weeks felt a little normal in the comfort of Granny B's presence.
"Did you bring my bread, Masaru?" Granny asked her son as the three of them entered the house.
"Yes, mother." Masaru sighed as he slipped his shoes off. "Have I ever forgotten?"
"I'm just so used to Katsuki bringing it for me when you visit I don't know if I can trust you." She teased with a devious chuckle as she stepped up into the living area. Masaru shook his head at Bakugo before he followed Granny through to the kitchen, toting the basket of bread that had accompanied them.
Bakugo finished untying his shoes and placed them neatly together before he stepped into the living area too. He barely listened to the voices coming from the kitchen as he took the time to absorb the comfortable and homely smells of his Granny's home.
His eyes lingered around the walls, glancing over photos of his family he'd seen a million times before. He followed the trail of photographs in their chronological order, from his father's childhood to his parents wedding and his arrival. As he got to the end of the timeline that displayed his first day at UA and winning the Sports Festival, a new frame hung on the wall caught his eye, and with a shaky hand he reached out to it.
He unhooked the carved wooden frame from its nail in the wall before he traced his trembling fingers along the edge. It was a photo of him and Ren from his parents Christmas party. He had plenty of pictures of her and the two of them together on his phone that he'd been torturing himself with over the last few days by obsessively looking at them and hoping one of them would finally make him crack.
But this wall was reserved for his family and Granny B had elected to make Ren a part of his family by hanging their picture amongst the others. Bakugo's throat ran dry and an uncomfortable lump built up in his chest. His eyes clouded over and his grip on the frame tightened until his hands seared black fingerprints into the wood.
The muffled voices of his father and grandmother cleared as the two of them exited the kitchen to see where Bakugo had gotten to.
"Oh dear." Granny B gasped as she covered her mouth. "I-I'd completely forgotten to take it down. I'm so sorry!"
"Katsuki?" Masaru prodded gently. "You okay?"
"D-Dad..."
Bakugo's voice hitched uncomfortably in his throat as he turned to his father, tears finally escaping and flowing down his cheeks.
"I love her, Dad."
*