Conflagration

Chapter 6

The only word Izuku could use to describe the next morning didn't exist. His eyes and head were overcome with a dull, droning pain that was most likely caused by how hard he'd cried himself to sleep the night before.

Before he could even get his bearings, his phone began ringing.

He sat up, raising an arm to shield his eyes from the bright sunlight that seeped through the space between his green curtains that early Wednesday morning. He knew he wouldn't have to work, but he hadn't been able to convince himself to go back to sleep very well the past few times he'd woken up during the night.

Izuku glanced at his phone, sighing at the caller ID and flopping back down onto his pillows. Great. The last person in the world I want to talk to.

He waited until it stopped ringing to pick it up, soon getting a notification about a new voicemail. He opened it and pressed play, turning his volume up enough to be able to hear it without holding his phone too close to his ear.

"Uh- hey."

Bakugo's voice came through the speaker, irritating him enough to earn an eye roll.

"I know you probably don't want to talk to me right now, but I've been calling you all morning and you haven't answered. I hope you... never mind. I wanted to ask if you still wanted to go to the concert, but I think I know the answer."

There was a pause, and Izuku glanced at his alarm clock. Oh, it's past 1:00.

"God, I don't know why I'm still calling. I'll leave you alone now, sorry. We just won't go."

The voicemail ended, and Izuku sighed lowly. He'd wasted half the day away, slept through twenty missed calls, and was still in bed at 1:36 with a terrible headache and a stuffy nose. Still, he couldn't think of any reason to stay in bed any longer, so he stood up and walked to the bathroom.

Once face to face with himself, it felt as if his headache grew even worse. His eyes were red and swollen, and underneath them were eyebags dark enough to look like smudged purple eyeliner. He knew he'd looked worse, but he couldn't help but associate his mental and physical state with all of the surprises and danger that had sprung up in his life. The longer he thought about it, the more it made sense.

He turned on the shower, stripping off the clothes he'd worn yesterday since he hadn't felt well enough to change out of them. As soon as he stepped into the stark white space of the shower, his thoughts began racing to connect dots he'd never even considered to be mildly related.

Why always alleys? Anytime I'm outside with him, he's gazing at some dark corner like it's his enemy. Does it have to do with his work?

Always sneaking around like a rat. Where did he get that from? The silent presence and the brash tone and the cold demeanor... He acts like it's nothing at all to him. Like it's normal.

When Izuku stepped out of the shower thirty minutes later, he didn't feel any better. He was still tired, still in a depressed mood, and still very pissed at Bakugo. If anything changed, it'd be how angry he'd become after his shower thoughts painted the blonde in an even worse light than he'd painted himself in.

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Play 'Ashley'

Thursday wasn't any better.

Izuku had been jolted awake by yet another inconveniently timed phone call, this one from his mother. He hadn't spoken to her since he'd landed the job at the cafe, which had been a few months ago, around March.