i hate you. (Bakugou Katsuki x OC)

20 | ....And a Hurricane Brews

It's one of those nights. The ones that come around at the precipice of summer—when the sun sets just a little earlier and the wind blows just a little harder. It's like Mother Nature wants to remind us all what we're losing as the season changes. Or perhaps she's reminding us what we're gaining. It comes down to perspective, I suppose.

For me, tonight, it feels like the former. Like every rooftop I'm jumping across is somehow already a memory. Dr. Ishii's forever unchanging office sounds a little more appealing at the moment. His idea about victims of loss being more resistant to sudden change sounds closer to the truth every day.

Native is quiet as we reach the western border of his patrol route. Instead of turning on his heel to loop back around to the agency like he did the last two nights, he decides to drop down on the ledge of the roof. He lets his legs swing in the open air and his fingers curl around the concrete.

"You know, I love this city so much, I really do," he says when I sit in the space beside him. The height gives me vertigo, but it's not unpleasant. "Yet, I don't think I'll ever call it my home."

I take a moment to take in the city in question. It's similar to Musutafu in a lot of ways—like the way the lights twinkle like stars and how it never seems to sleep. But, Hosu feels rooted. It's got this timeless quality to it. The streets are narrow and winding, and the buildings have a sort of weathered charm that makes you feel like you're walking through history. There's a rhythm to it, a sort of predictable calm.

Musutafu, on the other hand, feels alive. It's constantly changing—new buildings, new people, new energy. It's vibrant and bustling, and there's this sense of movement that never really stops. Sometimes, it feels like it's too big to truly know. Like, there's always something more to discover. I love every part of it.

"Are you not from here?" I ask.

"No, I'm not," Native chuckles softly, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon. "I was born and raised up north, in Hokkaido. My parents were a huge part of this traditionalist Ainu community there. It was important to them to make sure our culture wasn't forgotten."

I glance over at Native, surprised by the rare personal detail he's sharing. He's usually so unserious and private, but today is full of all kinds of surprises. The lack of sleep and stress must be weighing on him. "So, what made you leave?"

He smiles, but there's a hint of sadness in it. "My parents passed and suddenly Hokkaido felt haunted by memories. Becoming the first Ainu hero seemed like the best way to honor their legacy without staying around."

For some reason, my thoughts move to Sakura-Price, my Hokkaido. I don't have a single grievance with it, the people, or the life I've lived there. And yet, no part of me yearns to return. It's exactly like Native said, there's memories lingering at every turn there. The gates Mom used to drop me off at, fussing with my hair to make sure it was perfect. The gala Father accompanied me to after my very first girlfriend (of two whole days) dumped me for the new American exchange student.

U.A. would be my Hosu.

"It's weird, isn't it?" I say, more to myself than Native, pulling my knees up to my chest. "How you can love a place so much, but still feel like you're not really a part of it. Like you're just passing through."

We sit in silence for a moment, the city stretching out before us, and the night growing cooler. The soundtrack of Hosu fills my ears in the absence of conversation. The distant hum of traffic, panicked screaming, the occasional siren...wait, what?

My eyes shoot back to the skyline of the city, towards the sound of the screaming. There's a violent cloud of smoke, the telltale sign of tragedy, from a dozen blocks over.