𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 ➸ 𝐁𝐍𝐇𝐀

𝟎𝟎 || 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

She stared in utter shock at the ceiling of her bedroom, subconsciously glaring daggers at the degrading paint work, observing as the humidity of the rain (that'd been pouring for an entire week now) formed a massive paint bubble in the corner of the room. 

That just depressed her even more, the realisation that she was going to have to be the one to fix that now, with her own profits and incomes, finally hitting her. She couldn't ask for help to anyone. She didn't want pity. What would she do with her life? How would she survive? 

Reassuring herself, she realised that maybe she didn't have to. Maybe, at some point, the grief would be too much to bear. God, it sounded terrible.

Her arms were crossed over her chest, as she lay on her bed, tightly draped across the bedsheet, as if the wind would suddenly enter the room and steal them away. 

She'd been in that same position for an entire week now. Her legs felt numb, and her eyes were tired of staring at the same spot. Had she even eaten anything? She couldn't really remember. She'd been too busy contemplating her lifeline to care, truly. 

How had this happened? How could she have let this happen? How could she have carelessly done the one thing that'd brought this dreadful, utterly disastrous and horrifying event to life? How could she? Was it all her fault? 

Those questions had been replaying in the back of her mind, scanning the shelves of her intellect for answers that she knew she didn't have. 

The door opened with a loud creaking sound, and as always, it hit the bean bag placed against it, moving it with ease. The visitor sighed sadly upon seeing her in the same position yet again, but said nothing. She made no move to check who it was, for she knew there were only a few possibilities, and the elimination process taking process in her mind had already almost concluded. 

Another sigh interrupted her trail of thought. Exasperated, she weakly moved her head slightly to the right, the silhouette of the individual contrasting against the light that was on outside. 

"Look, I know it's shit," Bakugo Katsuki said. "But you need to take care of yourself." He sounded angry, but he really was trying to be nice. 

He left it at that. He took a plate from the small table outside and entered the gloomily illuminated room. His eyes were full of sadness, half masked by the fury that contradicted him, as he once again grabbed an untouched plate of, now cold, pasta, replacing it with a new one, this time full of meat. 

She hadn't responded in any way. Well, she hadn't spoked in a week or so, so he wasn't too baffled at the idea. Ever since- no. Not now. 

He shakily sat down on the bed, next to her, carefully occupying the empty, cold space that was left in the bed she was in. He then laid down with her and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in for a long hug. This had also been going on for a while. She lifted her arm up just enough for her hand to grab the sheets and place them over her friend. He smiled at her thoughtfulness.

"You aren't any better," he noted after a moment, sadness lacing his voice. 'Way to point out the obvious, Katsuki,' she normally would've said. Instead she stayed silent, not acknowledging his comment.

"I'm sorry," he whispered softly in her ear as a tear delicately exited her left eye, falling onto her nose. She sniffled, and he hugged her tighter. "I'm so, so fucking sorry this is happening to you."

They laid like that for a while, her sniffling once in a while as she let her tears flow freely for the thousandth time that week. She'd lost count. 

Finally, words made their way from her heart to her mouth, straight into his soul, and for the first time that week, she spoke. "Thanks, Katsuki." 

It was barely a whisper, and after just a small fraction of a second, it was gone as if it'd never been there, but he recalls hearing it so clearly, it could've been screamed to him. 

A soft smile made its way onto his face, the urge to jump in joy dominating his instincts almost completely. Instead, he hugged her so tight that her lungs felt like they were about to burst. He messed her with a joyful laugh. "Whenever, Y/n." 

She grinned weakly at him.

No one said anything for a long, Long time. He hugged her like their lives depended on it, and she let him comfort her. At some point she fell asleep, and he decided to stay there for as long as he could, shielding her from what had caused her to be this way. 

Cue the doorbell ringing. Of course, the doorbell would ring. It's like an alarm clock, that people use to wake up other people.

Bakugo groggily stood up, the passive aggressive way of acting already finding its own way to his very core, his expression changing immediately into one of irritation as he put his shoes back on and descended the stirs to the main entrance, making his way to the door. 

He looked out of the window on the side. 'Pink cheeks, Half 'n half, and Deku. Great..." 

Annoyed, he opened the door, to find the two smiling faces and, well...whatever that expression was meant to convey...awaiting. 

"What do you want?" he asked straight away. "Y/n is sleeping, and I'm not letting you ruin that. You already did for me," he added. 

"We want to see Y/n, Kacchan!" Poor Izuku stated determinately. 

"Please let us see her!" begged Uraraka. 

He mockingly contemplated the response he would give, then looked at 'Hot and Cold' in the eye. "No." With that, the door was closed in their face, and he began making his way upstairs once again. 

The three stood baffled outside, before Tododoroki stepped on the porch and, once again, rang the doorbell. 

"WHAT?!" Bakugou's shouting echoed throughout the house. "JUST GO AWAY, EXTRAS!" he yelled. 

He was in the Kitchen, making himself lunch. He'd only made one plate, for Y/n. He'd completely forgotten that he needed to eat as well. 

"BUT KACCHA-" Deku began, but was interrupted. 

"NO!" 

"B-"

"JUST COME BACK WHEN SHE'S AWAKE, IDIOTS!"

That was his biggest mistake, but he only realised later that the three, well, two (he stilll wasn't too sure about Mr. Canadian Flag), had perceived the order he'd given out as 'invite everyone, later, when she's awake.'

"OKAY!" the voice of Izuku Midoriya responded, from the porch he'd gracefully chosen to stand on. 

'Damn, If that girl hasn't woken up yet...'

𝐀/𝐧: 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬?