[Bakugou Katsuki x reader]
(y/n) Abé was hoping for a normal high school experience after years of being homeschooled. However she realizes that that was not going to be possible.
{Last name pronunciation: ah-bay}
{Disclaimer: I don't own the anime...
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"Finally!" I collapsed to my knees, letting my body slowly melt to the ground. After a long day of this torturous training, I could definitely go for a hot bath under the stars again. From running for at least two hours, to combat with Hagakure and Shoji, to more freaking running, and then hand to hand combat with Tiger himself:
I was dying quite literally.
Running those laps while using my quirk is taking a larger toll on me then I imagined. My legs felt like pudding with every step I took. I can feel the sensation of running in my veins and the thump of the ground under me still. Doing these will definitely increase my stamina and the hand combat with Tiger will help with my durability.
With Hagakure, she and I would take turns at attacking Shoji. Since her quirk is always activated and it doesn't negatively affect her physically like it does us, she helps mostly strengthen Shoji's ability to create multiple Dupli-Arms.
During this time, we stayed in the forest close to the others while Tiger supervised. This gave me more of a chance since I wouldn't be out in the open. Being in the open lessens my chance of actually being able to conceal myself with Shoji's arms.
I'm drenched in sweat and my hair is an absolute mess. I didn't even want to think about how much it's going to hurt to take it out of the ponytail.
"Aizawa-sensei is brutal man. He kinda reminds me of my dad.." I sigh, turning my head to watch my classmates gather. The grass beneath me was cool and soft, despite it being hot as hell outside. It was relaxing. The way the breeze hit my face just perfectly and the sun setting to give night it's turn.
It really helps me appreciate this down time.
I stare up, admiring the orange-like sky. Mom never really liked the color orange. She would always say it reminded her too much of the prisoners at the jailhouse, and pumpkins. Both of which she hated.
But Dad loves the color orange. From the flowers that bloomed in our backyard at home, to making pumpkin pies to spite his wife (as a joke of course, but he sure did love some pumpkin pie), to the monarch butterflies that he and Mom would talk about every chance they got. It meant fall, and Dad has this passion for fall that I couldn't understand.
Maybe it was because they met during the fall season, under that old tree in the abandoned park. Or maybe because that was around the time Dad proposed to her.
Either way, my opinion on orange: I could care less. I could like or dislike it.
I smile softly at these thoughts. I didn't realize how sweet my parents' relationship actually was. I didn't find reason to think about it so deeply.
I hope I can have what they had.
I screech as someone suddenly moves next to me, screaming a battle cry. I whine with my hand curled into a fist. "IZUCHAN."
