Bet On You - Bakugo X Reader (College AU)

Part 12: Hopelessly, I Am

Midnight dew had already fallen over the grass, and the cold was harsh enough to watch your breath escape into the night air. But the frigid, shadowy backyard was a hundred times better than the claustrophobic, strobing hell inside. At least out here, no body had to know. No one besides your friends had to watch. The burning, chemical smell seeping from your head wasn't as suffocating and unbearable. It still fueled an awful sickness in your stomach, swirling around with dread.

Kirishima had cleared the path from the bathroom to the back porch, where you escaped without drawing much suspicion despite the shiny goop dripping from you. Kaminari was the power source. His electrical charge let you take everything outside at least, with a little more privacy. Mina talked you through it, keeping an eye on Jirou as she picked through your hair.

Bakugo was down Kaminari's neck at first. The poor boy was wobbling, drunk, and threatening to go stupid from the prolonged surge of electricity, still sputtering apologies ("You told me to hide it – I just – I didn't think anyone was gonna go looking through a medicine cabinet!") as he held one of Jirou's spare stage lights, directing it on the damage.

"You keep that shit going or you're dead!"

Kirishima had to settle down his friend. "Not now, man," gently shoving the fuming delinquent hero to the ground beside you while he took his watch position, keeping wandering partygoers at bay.

Thanks to a gentle concentration of Mina's acid and careful handiwork, the girls were able to detach most of the glue from your clothes, hands and face. Your hair, however... There was only one option.

"...W-Will it be shorter than your hair, Jirou?"

As she plugged in the shaver to Kaminari's mouth and pulled out a pair of scissors, she smiled weakly. "I promise I'll tidy everything up... Okay?"

The buzz was as horrifying as you imagined. Loud, and blaring in your ears. Screaming at you about how you'd lost. It didn't matter whether it was fair or from terrible luck. There was no going back.

Chunks of your hair began to fall. Part of your identity, your femininity, just melting away. Your eyes were glossy, holding your lip in your teeth, letting it all happen. This was the nail in the coffin. A carving in the gravestone of, 'here lies your delusional fantasy'; You weren't getting a boyfriend any time soon, let alone the one frowning, hunched in the grass beside you.

Because despite his grumpiness and old-man attitude, young heroes like him, ones that stood proudly in the spotlights and carried themselves on their dreams, were meant to be with people who shone just as brightly. Someone like that girl in the hallway. Or the one from the rumour.

Not you, a walking disaster; a useless wannabe; a shadow to his greatness.

Once Mina left your side to help Jirou, you were left staring at the grass, watching the blades become dusted with locks of your hair.

Snip. Snip. Snip.

More buzzing.

"...Stop...Don't cry."

Bakugo reached for the hand anxiously thumbing your skirt. His gentle touch was warm, rare but familiar. "...Don't waste your tears over something that wouldn't cry for you."

The day you dueled in second year, when you fell to the ground, defeated and in tears, Bakugo said he lost. You couldn't help but wonder what that really meant. Not that it mattered now.

"Is it better?" you croaked.

"You're not a slime pit anymore," he huffed. "Hair or no hair, you're still the same peabrained moron as before."