Hello hello!
I know it's been a long while since I published anything. I apologize for dipping without a word for the past month. To be honest, my life has been down in the depths and really hit a big writer's block while I was mentally down. Not to mention a bunch of extra curriculars and university things that managed to stress me out sm I barely had time to write even if i wanted to.
And even though it isn't the best right now, things are getting better. So hopefully, i'll be posting at a more consistent pace from here on out, but i can't promise anything.
Disclaimer: a lot of Katsuki's inner demons are going to be explored this arc and it starts this chapter. so please bear in mind he ain't in a good mental space so he might not be the same Katsuki we are familiar with the past 30+ chapters (::>_<::)
Hope you enjoy the chapter! Love u bubs <3
-----
Anxiety was an old friend, always resting in the back of his mind no matter the day, the hour, the minute. They nestled in his veins, churned in his stomach and lodged in his throat, stealing his voice when he needed it most.
Yes, anxiety was an old friend, and Katsuki learned to find comfort in it. Because his anxiety was for his survival, was meant as a catalyst to get things to move faster and made catching villains so much more thrilling. His anxiety got his blood pumping and his heart racing which made him sweat and that much more lethal when he was fighting. So anxiety was a welcome friend in times like those.
However, in times like these, when his anxiety was festering like an infection, like it was fogging his rationale like a drug, he'd turn to meticulous organizing.
So here he was, reorganizing his kitchen for what would be the tenth time since he's moved into his home, counting his inventory and restoring the contents in their respective places after wiping down the shelves from the inside. He rarely had this much time on his hands, and with Hina out to get groceries, he busied himself to subside the restlessness in his bones.
He was hesitant in sending Hina, and after a few minutes of going back and forth with her, he convinced her to at least go with company. So she quickly texted Mina who was now the closest person to her after him, and left roughly an hour ago with a long list of things he'd ranted they needed.
However, even with one of his trusted hero friends, he couldn't shake off the gut feeling that something was going to go terribly wrong.
He knew the NVA implanted some grotesque images in his mind, none of which have ever come to pass, but felt as though they had.
Images of Hina in pain, of her begging for respite of pain. Of her pleading for it to just end.
He shook his head as he placed a mug back in the cupboard.
None of that happened. It was all fake hallucinations he was forced to witness.
He knew that.
His hand reached for the last mug Mina had brought from the cabin along with the rest of their belongings. The red mug Hina has grown an attachment to.
He smiled softly, picking it up and placing it in the front of the crowd of other colored cups.
But half way through his hand slipped, the mug falling and clattering on the counter, surprisingly not shattering at impact.
His body was alight with adrenaline, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach suddenly amplified. All his nerves were tingly, zapping and making his head clear with a crystal-like clarity. His breath rested in his lungs, holding itself there as though it were waiting for some sort of cue, some sort of sign to be released. And then the sign it was waiting for came, his breath puffing out slowly as courage puffed in his chest and his heart thrummed like a bird trying to escape its cage.
His senses were hyper focusing on everything. His ears perked to the sound of every drip from the faucet, his skin felt the gusts from the air vents overhead, the clear smell of his home wafted in his nose with every node of his caramel, sandalwood, and campfire scent which were on the forefront of it all, and his eyes stared blankly at the folds of the curtains framing his kitchen window.
Then fear, a very minute spark of it, lit the smoke of bravery and created a fire burning inside his lungs.
And now he couldn't breathe, a minor panic attack that one couldn't see but could only fully feel was overtaking his entire being.
He tore the window's latch off, opening it to let in fresh air so he could somehow breathe.
With his hand clenching the fabric of his shirt over his heart and five deep breaths later, the panic and adrenaline subsided, a surge of contagious, familiar reassurance and of relief overtook his entire being.
He released another shaky exhale, loosening his grip on the cotton of his shirt as he grabbed a glass sitting on the counter and poured himself a glass of water from the sink.
When the icy liquid doused a part of his--their--inner panic and fear, he sighed, ruffling the blond spikes on the back of his head with a huff.
Something happened, he realized.
Something that put Hina in danger.
-----
Hina found herself staring at rows of rice once again. This time she knew exactly which one to get, the challenge was to not mix it up with another one Katsuki had mentioned that his dunce face of a friend always managed to get instead.
She snickered at the thought of Denki facing a rageful Katsuki from bringing the wrong type of rice. Her smile fell off quickly, the thought of her being in place of Denki quickly had her back to scrutinizing the shelves of rice.
Grocery shopping shouldn't be this stressful, but seeing a variety of sticky rice muddled her brain and confused the specifications that Katsuki had asked for, only making her grumble in annoyance.
"Ya grumble way more often now."
Hina yelped, turning around to see Mina carrying a basket of fresh produce. She was smirking, one hand on her hip, and snickered when Hina turned back around with a roll of her eyes and puff of her cheeks.
"I know what you're implying," she muttered, "Katsuki isn't rubbing off on me."
Mina threw her arm around Hina's shoulders, "I didn't say nothin'." Then she peeled her eyes open, a shrill squeal deafening Hina's right ear. "Katsuki?!"
Hina flushed a light rose, scrunching her nose to hide clear endearment flooding her eyes when Mina noticed the change. She still wasn't used to saying his name so freely, resulting in a racing heartbeat and a pink complexion. Katsuki noted it a few times, sneaking a few snide comments to turn her scarlet. And Mina was being no different with her little excited jibes coupled with gentle elbow hits to the ribs.
However, while the two were having a candid moment, a man crashed through the glass window, the alarms of the store screaming wild from the intrusion.
Both jumped in their skin from the loud sound, their eyes widening in shock and then steeling with conviction.
Mina stood in front of Hina, her body used as a barrier between the criminal who just entered the aisle. The villain wore all black, the upper half of his face covered with neon green fabric and his bright copper irises piercing through.
"Well isn't it the Acid Hero: Pinky." He glared at the hero, smirking while licking his canines. "I was hoping to get a free afternoon, but alien shish kabob sounds just as good."
She gritted her teeth, the purple acid on her palms oozing out and dripping down her arm. "Careful what you wish for, villain."
And with that both villain and hero launched forward, a fight commencing right at first contact.
She punched his face and he aimed for her stomach. But with her reflexes and the fluidity provided from the acid on her feet, she was able to swoop to the side before he could meet contact.
Then metal spikes shot out of his palm, aimlessly poking into bags of rice and wheat in the aisle, the grains all pouring to the floor.
Hina dodged one aiming to her stomach by taking a side step as swiftly as she could. But her foot slipped from the pellets on the floor and she fell to the floor ungracefully.
"You 'kay?" Mina queried with a scream while she kicked the guy in the ribs, acid burning through his garb and burning his skin and eliciting a painful groan from him.
"I'm good," Hina shouted back, her hand pulling out her shattered phone from her pocket. She frowned, forlorned that she was able to keep the phone unscathed for only two weeks. Just a week away from her record of having a non-shattered phone.
She stood up, gauging the fight between the two as people quickly darted outside the store in fear. With a crack of her neck, she took a ready stance, prepared to include herself in the fight if necessary.
Mina noticed from the corner of her eye while stopping a kick crossing her forearms over her chest.
"Sparkles would do great on his face right now!" She exclaimed with a smirk.
Swerving her weight on her left leg, she grabbed his shoulders with her acid coated hands, and jumped up. Within a second she was smoothly transitioning into a handstand over him and used the momentum to land behind him.
Hina understood immediately. So in that few second window Mina created she released three threads of orange that exploded into small fireworks as soon as they reached his face.
He yelled in pain, his hands covering his face, his feet stumbling and toppling his stance. Simultaneously, metal spikes released from his arms, tearing through his clothes and aimlessly darting through the room.
Many spikes found their way towards Hina, and even though she managed to dodge the majority of them by gracefully twirling in the air, her limbs gliding as though they were made of air themselves, one spike managed to nick her cheekbone.
A single streak of crimson tainted her cheek.
However, she didn't let that falter her.
More strings of orange released from her palms as she hid in the next aisle, all detonating around the man. He was now on his knees, his body curling forward to protect himself from the heat and protect his eyes from the sparks spreading in a frenzy around him.
Mina smirked at the display from behind a pile of cereal she used as shelter to dodge the spikes and the intense yet beautiful explosions surrounding the villain.
And as soon as the consistent chirps of the fireworks died down, she shot acid on the floor and glided so she was behind him, grabbing his arms and holding him down. An acid coated hand was brought to his face, hovering just a centimeter from his face as she tightened her grip.
"Yer under arrest, villain sir." She announced with a determined glare, "Try to move another muscle and the acid'll burn ya real good."
He gave up immediately, slumping even further into the linoleum if that were possible.
Only moments later, red and blue lights flashed outside. Officials in blue collared shirts and golden badges were occupying the area, asking questions to all the witnesses around.
Hina watched as Mina handed the villain to the police officer, and as soon as they finished asking questions, Mina pounced, giving Hina a death grip of a hug.
"Ya were amazing!" She said, tearing herself away and started reenacting the way Hina dodged the spike. "The way ya moved was so pretty. I seriously thought ya were an acrobat or somethin'."
Hina smiled, not bothering with the sting when the skin of the apples of her cheeks stretched. "It was nothing."
"It was not nothing." Mina grumbled, playfully knocking her shoulder with Hina's. "I should brag to Bakubro 'bout how ya did way better than he did on an impromptu team up. He'll explode. Literally."
"I don't doubt it."
"Speaking of Bakubro, we should call him to let 'em know yer okay."
She pulled out her phone from her bag, only to notice three metal spikes that were protruding from the outside had pierced through her phone.
"I think ya should head over home and let Bakubro know yer okay." Mina said with a hand rubbing her neck sheepishly, "He might be worried sick from feelin' the danger sense when the villain hurt ya."
Hina's eyes widened. She didn't realize the anxiety churning in her stomach when the villain came wasn't fully her emotions.
"Okay. But I should bring someone with me. Katsuki'll get more worried if I come alone."
Mina nodded, shouting for a spare officer who'd be willing to escort Hina to Midnight Hills.
-----
Katsuki was pacing.
Back and forth, he went from the door to the sofa and from the sofa back to the door. Back and forth, back and forth. The thumps of his slippers against hardwood floors echoed in the house, his leveled yet erratic puffs of air leaving his lungs in sync with them. He was a rhythmic embodiment of anxiety.
When the danger sense first electrified through him, he was able to calm himself with a glass of water. But then, the short small shocks that went down his spine sporadically for a few minutes only tightened his doubt, coiled uncertainty in the pit of his stomach as he tried to shake the dread filling his lungs and up his throat.
So when he was faced with a buzz of relief, and a flicker of annoyance afterwards, his nerves were too spent to further wait on what exactly happened.
Because he knew these gut feelings that overtook his emotions weren't his; he wasn't doing anything adrenaline-inducing at the moment, especially with his wounded state. No. They weren't his, but hers.
And he could've gone to go find Hina; would've left the moment he got the first time he felt the distress from her end. And when he decided to call her to check on her just in case, it went straight to voicemail, he was ready to raze the neighborhood to find her.
However, a quick text from Mina explaining that a lowlife extra attacked the store for some measly robbery, he refrained from leaving. She was okay after all, her emotions mostly content and unharmed, barely bristled from pique which he found underwhelming.
This anxiety channeling in his veins was all his own, all due to the fact it has been two hours since that text.
Two hours. And he hasn't received an update.
Now, he understood that they must've been getting occupied by a reporter frenzy, maybe even treating some minor wounds if the paramedics came on site. He understood that.
Nonetheless, his patience was running thin, like a rope frayed to a single thread, and was ready to snap. And if- when- it snapped, he'd be out that door, tracking his omega like his inner alpha has been begging him from the get go. Even if his doctor confiscated his driver's license to make sure he had a proper recovery, you best believe Katsuki Bakugo would march all the way to the grocery store even with his sore leg and thumping burns.
And just before he could succumb to his instincts, the door opened, nodes of bitter cinnamon and smooth coffee and sweet, soft vanilla sifting into the air.
He turned around, her dusty, strong frame glowing gold from the sunset light.
"I'm home," She breathed with a smile, the relief visibly seeping into her bones.
But Katsuki didn't reply.
His scent was amplifying in worry, the smoky campfire burning through hers.
And his eyes were slanted in ire, hyper-focused on the cut on her cheek.