MHA Sickfic

Day 18

Izuku floats in the wide expanse of grey, curled in on himself against the shudders of anxiety, isolation gnawing at his resolve. He's tried to escape, to move through the atmosphere around him and sometimes he's able to touch something solid; a wall or what seems like a floor. But it all looks the same, a vast nothingness of grey. It's disorienting and even as he tries to run, he stumbles, head whipping around as he hears the shuffle of cloth, or the 'tick-tack' of bony feet clicking in pursuit. Occasionally, he feels the phantom warmth of feather light touches on his head, or wrist, or forearm as unintelligible words ghost against his mind with a familiarity that draws out soft longing whimpers. He cherishes those moments of relief but they never last long, fading in favour of the nip and nick of razor claws that draw bloodless lines in his scarred skin, piercing eyes watching his every move while eight phantoms stand impassive and watch, unable or unwilling to help him, no matter how much he begs.

"I don't want to die."

"Help me, please. Mom? All Might? Anyone? I'm so scared."

"Kacchan..."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

When Bakugo starts to wake, he's more contented than he's felt in forever; he's warm, his heart rate is slow, his mind strangely calm. He inhales slowly, blinking languidly as he surfaces from the haze of sleep. He's loathe to do so, but the creeping sense of unfamiliar surroundings has him scrambling to sit up, taking in the room around him and flopping back onto the pillow with a whispered curse when he realises what happened. His face settles into a scowl and he drags himself out of bed, muttering angrily about being pathetic and stupid as he fixes the duvet, ignoring the twinge in his chest that encourages him to lay back down and give in to the comfort. He huffs out an angry sigh and turns for the door but a picture frame catches his eye. He reaches out and traces the glass, fingers ghosting over a head of green curls resting on the shoulder of a much younger Bakugo.

"Fuck, the nerd still has this photo?" The blonde marvels, narrowing his eyes as he recalls angrily whispering at his mother to 'put away the damn camera' so as not to disturb Izuku. The corners of his mouth twitch into the smallest of smiles before he pulls back his hand and pads to his own room to change before anyone catches him.

But his step falters when he sees an envelope resting on the floorboards, his name written in elegant script on the front. Frowning, he picks it up, kicking his door gently closed and tearing the seal. A card, with "Thank you!" in huge letters across the front. His attention is pulled by something else falling out of the envelope and he snatches it out of the air. A note, in the same handwriting as the envelope:

"We know you don't like fuss, but we wanted to thank you for everything."

(he thinks it might be Yaoyorozu, maybe Iida?)

And the card is full of messages of appreciation and gratitude for how he took care of them when they were sick, as well as a warning from Sero that they'd only barely managed to stop Kaminari drawing Bakugo in a nurse's outfit on the cover. That draws a chuckle out of him and before he can comprehend what's happening he's knuckling his eyes against the sudden sting.

"I'm turning into a fuckin' sap," he grumbles to himself as he places the card on his desk, giving it a fond look before grabbing his wash bag and heading for the showers.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

When he enters the common room there's a familiar scent in the air and when he approaches the kitchen a bowl is offered to him:

"Okayu?" Yaoyorozu greets with a gentle smile. Jiro must sense his suspicion from where she's helping prep toppings because she clarifies with an easy shrug: