❝ 𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘴 . ❞ [ Katsuki Bakugo x reader ]

03

𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙿𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝚃𝙷𝚁𝙴𝙴,

𝚂𝙴𝙲𝙾𝙽𝙳-𝙿𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙾𝙽 𝙿𝙾𝙸𝙽𝚃 𝙾𝙵 𝚅𝙸𝙴𝚆...

The sound of the doorbell sounded off in the house could be heard from where you stood on the porch. Your court-order counselor had been urging you to engage in more normal activities. Yet, you still felt uneasy. But before you could second-guess your choice any further, the front door flung open.

"You must be (Y/n) (L/n)!" A blonde woman grinned chipperly. She shared a very similar appearance to Katsuki, it was obvious she was his mother. You smiled.

"Please, come in!" She moved to the side in order for you to step inside. You accepted her invitation and slipped off your shoes by the door.

"I'm Mitsuki, Katsuki's mother," She introduced herself politely. "It's so nice to finally meet you. He's told us so much about you." You let out a nervous laugh.

"I don't think I want to know what he's said." You tried to loosen up. You watched as Mitsuki walked over to the staircase and leaned over the railing.

"Katuski get your ass down here right now!" Mitsuki screamed. You nearly jumped at her tone, one that reminded you of the boy she was yelling for. You snorted, physically stifling a laugh by covering your mouth. A door on the second level slammed and Katsuki soon appeared at the top of the staircase. His scowl softened when he saw you and he refrained from shouting back at his mother.

"Oh, hello," A brunet greeted you timidly with a small wave. "I'm Masaru, Katsuki's father. Dinner's ready if you're hungry." Very quickly you identified their family dynamic. And it was wonderfully amusing. Katsuki was a carbon copy of his mother, and his father was the poor bastard who loved the both of them. You wondered how that gentle spirit survived in such a household.

It was reassuring to know Katsuki had a good family behind him. Sitting at the dinner table with the three of them was therapeutic in a sense. You could not remember the last time you had a home-cooked meal with others.

"Go start the dishes," Mitsuki demanded of her son. With an angry groan, he collected the dishes scattered about the table and shuffled off to the kitchen. As soon as her son was out of the room, Mitsuki leaned closer to you.

"Would you mind if I asked you something?" She asked to which you shrugged a brief, why not. "How did you find Katsuki in the villain hideout?" Your breath caught in your throat. How were you supposed to answer that? What had Katsuki already told them? What had the police told them? You scratched the back of your neck.

"I'm, uh, not sure I'm allowed to talk about it," You side-stepped the question. "Let's just say I was at the right place at the right time." You observed their reactions carefully as their lips turned up into small smiles. It appeared they had some idea what you had done for their son, and they thanked you for it.

"We appreciate everything you've done for our Katsuki," Masaru told you genuinely. "We're glad he has someone like you to look up to." You felt your stomach drop. Those words should have sparked joy and should have humbled you. You felt somber, at best. It was thoughtful of Masaru to say, but it let a festering pit ruminate in your core. Did Katsuki not have someone more admirable to look up to? You forced a smile.

"What's it like to work with some of the best heroes in the country?" Mitsuki easily changed the subject. Just as luck would have it, this subject was not any better.

"I'm... lucky to get to live out so many people's dreams," You laughed bitterly. You did not feel qualified to deconstruct the problems you were faced with when it came to the heroes. They did not trust you, they did not even like you. The way they treated you was far different than the way they treated civilians. You understood why, of course. They did not believe you were worthy of a second chance.

There were only three people you could name who believe you even had the ability to change: Katsuki, your legally appointed therapist, and your probation officer. Aizawa was a curious case in your mind. In a way, you recognized a part of yourself in him; he had a reclusive, cynical, and dry-humored nature. He had been your probation officer for a few months, and you could somewhat confidently say that you liked him.

But every time you had that thought, you reminded yourself not to get too close. Any one of those UA teachers could be a traitor.

"Shit," You mumbled once you caught wind of the time. "I'm so sorry, I've gotta get going." Your curfew would be upon you soon and it was one you were not ready to break.

"Oh, no worries," Masaru dismissed your apology. You rose to your feet and thanked them for dinner and they thanked you for taking the time to drop by. Before you left, however, you ducked into the kitchen. Katsuki had just finished putting away the freshly dried dishes.

"I'm going to head out now," You told him with a small smile. "I'll see ya soon, kid. Don't do anything stupid while I'm not around." Katsuki scoffed.

"You're the only reason I do stupid things," He fired back, folding his arms over his chest. "You're a terrible influence."

"Hmm," You hummed skeptically. "I'm pretty sure you've been doin' stupid shit before I was around. I've heard the stories." Katsuki's tough expression faltered.

"Aren't you supposed to be leaving?" He raised his voice, pointing for the door. You laughed and waved before slipping out into the street.

With your hands buried in your pockets, you relished in the content feelings that followed the evening. The sun was slowly disappearing behind the horizon, painting the city in warm hues of melting gold. You walked all the way to your apartment complex, climbed the flights of stairs, and pulled the key out of your pocket. You approached the door, ready to unlock it, but you realized a key was not necessary to open the door.

Because the door was already open. It was shut and locked when you left.

𝚃𝙾 𝙱𝙴 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝚃𝙸𝙽𝚄𝙴𝙳...