Bakugou Angst Stories

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚In the following time he took his life - 1.2

Aoyama was never the sharpest tool in the shed. Nor was he the most courageous, the smartest, the strongest, the sturdiest, or the most durable. But he was flashy, gaudy, and sometimes garish. He put on an ostentatious show for anyone who was willing to see. He loved his looks, he liked to feel pretty, to feel loved, and noticed.

In fact, Aoyama always got up early in the morning, sprinted to the bathroom before any other person, and spent a little over two hours making sure he looked fabulous before leaving. First, he would practice glimmering, then sparkling, then ultimately twinkling. It set the spotlight on him without ever moving the showers of light. He cupped his face lovingly each morning, dabbing skincare cream on his already silky skin.

Then he would step outside and glow for others to applaud, see, and admire. With one glare, you'd feel as if he had ran a long, thorough, physical check through your spine with some latent, intrusive force that worked behind his galvanizing, amethyst eyes.

But it was hard to be the receptacle of adoration when everybody else possessed your qualities and more. Ashido was pretty, that was undeniable, she twinkled through her upbeat personality just like Aoyama, but in a way that was far more enchanting than he ever thought he could do. Not to mention, she had great friends and limitless social capabilities, having been friended that gremlin!

Plus, Aoyama didn't realize how lonely and caved-in he felt until he met Midoriya, the warm, green-haired boy who had embraced him in a way not even his work-busy parents could. Aoyama also hadn't felt such a deep, dicing giddiness swarm him until he gazed into the greenette's virescent eyes that held an endless amount of warmth. It was his first crush, his first real realization of perfect qualities, ones that undermined his. But for some reason, he loved it.

It was then the boy had made his first friend, the caved-in feeling had disappeared as quickly as he had come to name it. Then he made others, Iida, Uraraka, and Todoroki. They all came with the Midoriya pack, and it was ever so perfect. Aoyama was filled with an irrefutable buoyancy. These people were so... welcoming.

So nice. 

So great...

.

It was extremely early in the morning, and Aoyama had crept out of bed like the undead, groggily. It's a good thing nobody ever saw him up this late, he felt grateful for that. He wrangled up the energy to pick himself up, and took weak yet long steps to his dorm door. Creaking the door open, he rubs the crust out of his eye and stretches his back out by reaching his arms to the ceiling.

Then he's in the hall, walking towards the elevator, trying to make his form erect. He doesn't want to grow up to be hunchbacked or anything- that would be terrible!  A hunched back can hinder a pretty face and wreck a nice figure.

He gets up. Soaking in the earliness of the morning and the quiet atmosphere around him, tapping the lowest floor with the common room, shower rooms, and everything, bathrobe in hand, with toothbrush and toothpaste buried in a black bag that's being held by the other. Excitement shrilling through his bones. He likes getting ready in the morning, always gets him hyped up to see his makeover.

He wonders how shiny he can make his hair look like today before it starts replicating the texture of glass!

Soon the elevator halts, and he takes a step out. Finding his way to the male shower-rooms or bathrooms or whatever, he steps into the room. Then feels the urge to pee as he unloads the bag with his toothbrush and toothpaste.

Ah sparkles! Just great, huh?—his eyes instinctively jump to the stall, and he sees clothed legs underneath the short door of the bathroom stall— a neon orange, empty pill bottle away from an open hand, fingers up as if about grasp something. Did somebody really sleep in the stall? How bad of a food did they eat? Aoyama tests the air for a stench but finds nothing but the scent of cleaning products.

Still, he gingerly walks towards the stall. He wishes he had cheese on him so he could make a peace offering or something, but he doesn't bring it to the bathrooms on the morning— it's when he gets closer does he realize the stall door is slightly open, ajar, revealing the body of Katsuki Bakugou, asleep against the walls. He looks peaceful, but what's the pill bottle doing there.

'Oh, good morning~' Aoyama dazzles, trying to comb the messy locks of his hair away from his face. Not even a murmur is returned, Bakugou's doesn't move an inch. 'ah such a sloth in the mornings, aren't you, gremlin de la classe?'

He waits patiently for at least a pop of his quirk, completely on guard. But nothing.

'My, my, is everything okay?'

Not a sound.

With newfound worry, careful with the fear that he might be launched away by his classmate's powerful quirk, his leg nudges the door open and he staggers back.

Pale without the rising chest that signals breathing, and Bakugou's head rolled over against the wall, eyes closed, and mouth in a resting smile, it looked just like he was asleep.

But Aoyama was better than that. He'd like to pretend that maybe he was being stupid, because he truly was stupefied, looking at the body in front of him. A sight he never thought he'd live to see, right there before him. Hollow and devoid of life, the only spirit of Katsuki left in the thoughtless smile.

Everything after that felt too fast to be of note, yet so slow at the same time he didn't need to revise a thing, every moment was there, and it felt like he was living through those excruciating seconds on repeat.

.

The letter was simple. Readable. But Aoyama was never the most courageous tool in the shed, and as he rests his head limply against Asui's shoulder, the very day Bakugou had been pronounced dead, he knows he'll never have the strength to open up that letter and read that boy's parting words.

A boy he didn't even really know or care to try to know, the boy he was always scared of, turned to nothing but a newly made carcass before his very eyes. And it was of the boy's own doing.

Life is so ironique.

Aoyama is seriously doubting this career choice. He doesn't think he has the guts to be a hero anymore.

His parents were right. His quirk and his head isn't meant for this.

Everything hurts.

And Aoyama doesn't even deserve to hurt.

.

A/N: ANGST FOR ALLL! THE AOYAMA CHAPTER IS FINALLY HERE PEOPLE!! I seriously need to wrap this book up... do you guys have any wants for upcoming chapters??

Words: 1144