Blooming Wounds

•[Alkaline Water]•

    [M.n] kneels on all fours, hacking up soot, sludge and scarlet. He clutches his throbbing chest with his calloused hand, pleading for clean lungs and for the unbearable thumping to subside. His other hand grasps at the gravel beneath him, ignoring the scrapes and bruising littering his arms and hands.

    "Hey, the kid's awake!" A stranger yells, followed by two sets of arms hoisting the teen up. The coughing lessens once he's given a bottle of water, though he doesn't take too kindly to the strangers impatience. They practically forced the water down his throat, complaining about the recklessness of children these days.

    Once discarding of the bottle, [m.n] tries to stumble his way home, his vision still blotted by stray debris and blood, and his ribs being possibly cracked. All he knows is that despite the supposed caring nature of the strangers - who were heroes - he didn't feel safe. If they couldn't even save his sister, how could they protect the rest of world? It's a silly notion, but something [m.n] valued anyway.

    The teen spits up a mucus green blob, tinged with maroon. The sky was already settling into it's splendid, autumnal glory, a sangria mulberry hue blanketing the satsuma orange lights dotted along the horizon. An unease fills [m.n]s stomach at the ill-fitting serenity, proven shortly after by an infuriated voice calling after him.

    "Hey! You're that fucking freak!" The accusatory voice comes from a well built blond, his eyes gleaming with disgust and hatred.

    Taken aback by the sudden audacity of the fellow, [m.n] bites back.
    "You have no right to be so callous after what your thug friends did to me!" He references the skirmish before the villain attack. "Anyway, it's your dumbass who got caught by the villain, not me!"

    This clearly strikes a nerve with the blond, who lunges into an attack. [M.n], still struggling with his injuries, narrowly dodges the flying fist by flinging himself to the side, crashing into a nearby wall. He was used to fighting kids his age, but this guy? He was out for blood.

    The intimidating young adult leers over him, a sly, victorious smirk across his face.
    "I'm going to become the number one hero," he roughly yanks [m.n] to his level, spraying saliva on his face whilst he speaks. "My name is Bakugou Katsuki, don't forget it!" He lands a finishing blow, before allowing the boy to slump back onto the concrete.

    "Some fucking hero you are." [M.n] spits, prioritising his integrity over his survival.

    "What'd you say!"

    "You think you're going to be a hero?" He cackles, holding his chest to suppress his pain from the sudden movement. "You just beat up a student taking the recommendation exam! You're going to rue the day you decided to mess with [l.n] [m.n], you got that, punk?" He makes sure to punctuate the syllables.

    Bakugou, angered, flustered, and embarrassed, gears up for another attack, sparks igniting for another attack, but then lets his arm fall limp at his side. He finally takes the state of the haggard male into account: blood is smeared across himself, his hair is in a matted disarray, and (most worrisome of all), he has cold, despondent eyes. The eyes of a desperate man, who has lost too much. Bakugou knows many things, but he hopes to never know the pain behind that expression.

÷÷÷

    "Honey, I'm home." [M.n] calls out wryly to his best friend.

    Hojou rushes to the imposing, impossibly polished door of the large house. She comes from a family of moderate wealth, this being a contribution factor toward her lackluster effort regarding school. Who needs an education when you can just take over daddy's company?

    "What on earth happened to you?" She inquiries, handing him a cold beverage. Ordinarily, she would ask her maid, but Hojou had let her leave for the night after receiving an anxious phonecall from [m.n]. "More importantly, why didn't you go home? Your family must be worried sick!"

    [M.n] ignores her momentarily, getting himself comfortable on the pristine white seating. It's going to be difficult explaining the red stains to her parents. She decide to blame it on 'lady problems', as embarrassing it may be.

    "They'd be less worried about me if I came home tomorrow clean, rather than tonight covered in blood..." He trails off, more inclined to watch the mindless infotainment; tonight's hot topic is alkaline water.

    Hojou sighs. "You know, I'm going to kick you out if you don't spill, like, right now."

    "Can I at least finish watching this segment first--"

    "I'm calling your parents."

    The boy grabs the phone from her, finally relenting and telling her everything.

    Hojou stares in shock for approximately five minutes, jaw opening and closing in an attempt to reply. To think her best friend had been in his second villain attack in two years, and resolved to attend his most begrudged academy, all in an effort to spite some spoiled brat? It was a lot of information to take in.

    [M.n], quickly growing bored of the silence, decides to run a bath, as standing in the shower would be way too painful. Once done, he finds the spare bedroom (where Hojou had fortunately layed out a clean set of pajamas), and attempts to settle into bed. He really should receive some medical attention for his ribs, face, and his whole body in general, but all of today's events have him knocked out in minutes.

÷÷÷

The pair finally purchase their snacks, after waiting for several minutes in line. [M.n] looks up to his sister, a young woman quickly approaching her twenties, and begins chattering idly about the new trend, Gacha Rangers. She smiles sweetly, not exactly understanding but acknowledging his excitement nonetheless.

She unknowingly catches the eye of a stranger, who decides to buzz around her as the siblings loiter around, waiting for the film to start. They'd arrived earlier than expected, having around twenty minutes or so to kill. The man turns out to be an old elementary school classmate and he abashedly confesses his former crush on [m.n]s sister. The young [m.n], repulsed by romance - as young children often are - wanders off, eventually finding his way outside.

He watches as a strange woman, frantically scratching her body all over, asks anyone around for their food or money. She eventually spots the prepubescent boy, stalking her way towards him. He clutches his share of the snacks close to his chest, refusing to meet her eyes. 'Stranger danger' buzzes around his head, though he can't bring himself to move.

The ragged woman attempts to wrestle the food from [m.n], but due to his superior strength, he wins the skirmish. The boy begins to back away into the building, but stops, being transfixed by the sight before him.

The strangers gnarled, decrepit, spindling fingers pop and crack, amalgamating into a horrendous form, mismatched appendages spawning from her dirtied hand--

÷÷÷

    [M.n] jolts awake in a puddle of sweat, his breathing uneasy and raspy. The early morning sun peeks through the curtain of the guest room, a new day dawning.

÷÷÷

1185 words
Woohoo story exposition!! And once again I've written a main character who joins U.A specifically to clown on bakugou.
Share a fun (or not so fun fact) in the comments!!