Stay with me!

Chapter 6 - Lemon skies - U

An early finish meant a longer time spent at home. Bakugo was elatedly pissed about it. He was willing to spend some time with anyone that offered to kill time, even Monoma. Nah, not Monoma, he preferred his parents arguing for ten years over that mutt. He did take his time walking back, dragging his feet and looking at the shops as if they were monuments. Each tree had a different shape but could be categorised on how healthy they were, some were fine. Then, ones on the brisk of death, fighting the inevitable that were their future. Even if all of the trees were in different stages, the fate would be the same. You can only run from the inevitable for so long, your legs snapping apart, eyes liquefying. Are all families doomed to break apart? One way or another, the branches of the tree will fall as a member leaves, by choice or soul. The term family is fluid, for better, for worse.

This has to happen at some point, can't be waiting all day. He acknowledged as his palm hesitated on the door. A countdown from three and the door was kicked open. Oh, joyous as both his parents were there. His father was watching television, his mother seemed to be cooking. Speak of the devil, she nearly turned her head backwards as she stared down at her son, glass in hand.
"Brat, if you were suspended, God won't be saving you today."

Bakugo raised his eyebrows. "What? No, it's an early finish. The fuck?"

He tested his luck and his mother didn't mention it as she swapped the glare to her husband. "Well?"

The older man cleared his throat, "yes, Mits. It's an early finish for the whole school."

"That works in my favour. Get over here, boy."

"In a minute, let me piss first."

She tutted as her son ran up the stairs. A few minutes later he returned and saw a sheet of paper. "What's that?"

"Chores." A smile etched on her lips.

"You can't be serious--."

"No son of mine is being spoilt. You live here so move it and the list will be completed by tonight."

"Else?"

"You can see, I'm happy with punishing your sorry ass." She cackled.

That woman-

A perculiar sense of normality hugged Bakugo whilst he dusted the frames along the staircase. Almost as if the divorce never happened, too well to be real. He made his way to the second floor and decided to do the chores about his room, then the others on the list. One task was complete, many more to go. Checking the paper, he remembered the three specific tasks that related to his room: piling dirty clothes in the basket, washing the windows and changing the covers for his bed. "A little music please..." He mocked in an English accent as he chose a song to entertain him.

Nothing better than a duo he's listened to for years, the only Twenty One Pilots. They created a variety of music to suit any occasion so for this moment he was feeling a little of Fake You Out. The electric bop could give him some energy to finish this shit. He grabbed as much clothes as he could fit into his arms and dropped the large pile into the basket. Picking up a few more clothes that needed a wash, he finished.

"You say that you are close, is close the closest star?"

He walked back from the bathroom with a spray bottle and towels in the other hand. First, he'll clean the left window and work his way to the other side. Squirting the spray, scrubbing the durt of the surface. He quickly dropped the bottle to sneeze. And again. He cursed a few times as he regained the bottle and then continued to scrub.

"You'll have to watch me struggle from several rooms away. But tonight."

A hand print marked the glass as he paused to imagine himself singing the lyrics.

"I need you to stay."

Why was Midoriya there? He shook his head and removed the hand, using the towel to wipe the mark off. Eh, he was about done. One window may have been missed but he doubts his mother will smack him over that. Maybe that one squirt he did will drip down and be enough at concealing the marks on it. What was the next thing he had to do? Damn it, he forgot and the paper is all the way from his bed. Sighs repeated as he snatched the paper to remind himself that the last task was to do the bedsheets. He just had to recall where his mother said they were. Basket, no. Downstairs, also no. He checked the draw under his bed and grunted as he pulled the sheets out.

"I'm afraid to tell you who I adore. Won't tell you who I'm singing towards."

About five minutes later, he swapped the bedsheets and pillowcovers to clean ones. A part of him wished he wasn't finished here as he'll have to turn his music off because he isn't letting his nosy father hear it. The sacred music belongs to him only. The next part included the bathroom and it can be inferred how Bakugo wasn't pleased by that. Surprisingly, an angel answered his prayers.

"Brat! Get down here!"

Or, a demon did.

The parents stood together as they watched their son walk over. The boy raised an eyebrow at the two. It's not as if he has a problem with his parents standing next to each other for the first time in a long while, he knows that it's too ideal to be without any backlash. He was very right, which he began to dislike despite his large ego.

When will this shit end, his thoughts lingered as he sat.

"Son," his father smiled softly. The urge to tell him to wipe that sorry smile off his face was high. "Me and your mother have an update on... things."

Bakugo may have just preferred the truth; that his family is utterly fucked up. He noticed, though, that his mother kept an unusual calm expression on her face as she added, "Soon, the papers will be confirmed and your father will be moving to live on his own. Until then, we will keep it civil."

He should be happy about it, right? No, he must. They have suffered long enough being together because of him and now they can feel the happiness Bakugo stole from them return. What a selfish brat he is for feeling that part of him that wants both of his parents with him, for things to not change. As much as his heart twisted for it, he won't give in and will do the right thing. All he needs to do is keep himself composed until they're finally seperated and then he can cry. The trick is to believe he will cry and when the time comes he'll delay it and be in a situation where he never needs to cry again. The strongest heroes don't succumb to the pettyness of tears when a situation is inconvenient. That's right, the situation is merely an inconvenience for him.

A vase of painted gold, prized possession that reflected the light shone on it. On display from the beginning of it's formation, for the value pourted into it by both creators. Gold couldn't withstand the tug, cracks slowly decorating along the vase. New ones forming, old ones growing. So the only way to keep the vase in awe condition was to paint along the cracks with gold, which only prevented it from being filled up and efficiently healed. But a part of the vase cracked deeper, underneath the coat of gold that hid it. Leading to it falling on the marble floor as a seperate piece, a new hole in the vase that no volume of paint could try to cover. Loss. Seperation from the origin.

"Shit! Fuck, shit!" Bakugo pawed at his tears with his palm, hidden under his blanket. It dawned upon the boy and it stung his lungs.

These would be the last few days that he lived with his father before they saw each other less and the attachment he had to his father wasn't so apparent as it was at this moment. Despite the bashful behaviour and teasing his father, it was his fucking father. He was more than a father, someone he could feel close to sensitive around. Bakugo needed him in his life and he didn't want to lose the relationship they had, he would be so far away. Once the possibility of his father moving on from him and forgetting crossed his mind, it wasn't possible for the blonde to keep the tears inside.