The day came for the trip and the students were given the morning to pack. Midday they would go on the coach and arrive at the place near evening. Since the incident with Bakugo toppling over Denki-- no one from the group has talked to him, nor has he tried to. It may be harder to avoid them coming forward as the trip is organised strictly between classes. It'll be a problem when the time comes.
Bakugo didn't have enough space to pack all his cans so he chose four, assuming the trip wouldn't take longer than four days. He threw in the other essentials and then zipped his backpack and went down the stairs to the common room. He saw Mina shake her head at him and he scoffed, walking towards the outside door.
He waited in silence until Aizawa commanded the class to follow him. A clean navy blue coach waited for them and Bakugo made sure he entered first, sitting next to a window. The coach filled, without anyone sitting next to him. He ended up dumping his bag next to him, at least the monsters were there so he wasn't completely alone. They passed houses that blended into the same thing, over and over. To cure the extensive boredom, he opened his backpack and a can, sipping it as quickly as he could to get that hit in his brain. After a few more swallows, he paused and sat with his back bent. The silence from his friends stung badly and he couldn't stop it with monster juice no matter how much he pleaded for it to be the case. Instead, he sat there and stared down at his shoes. Knowingly, no one was interested in him and his friends must hate him now. He raked a hand through his hair, closing his eyes.
On the first bathroom break, he tightened his hoodie strings so none of the others could see how pathetic he thought he looked. The shaking was down to his body freezing or it's nerves. Either worked. A part of him looked at the can with distaste; the flavour was the same shit, the motion was the same shit. But he couldn't just stop now, could he? After the build up of having them at any moment, stopping would lead him to feeling empty. As if a void was inside him. He did reflect though.
If he was tired, drink a monster to wake up.
If he was sad, drink a monster to lighten the mood.
If he was happy, drink a monster to preserve the moment.
If he was scared, drink a monster to give some control.
If he was angry, drink a monster to focus on something.
What would he do without it? What if he wasn't the same without it? What if it was the last thing that kept him as he?
He gripped the ends of his hair, harshly breathing without any rhythm. Simply, he felt terrible, unable to pinpoint which negative emotion was influencing him.
"Hey Denks, get over here!" Kirishima called out from somewhere.
The other must have listened, the voices of them no longer being heard.
He sniffed, and again. Finding drops of water on the back of his hands that caressed the sentimental cylinder of metal. He shakily lifted it and took more sips, nearly coughing out the bitter taste. His lungs begged to release the thorns digging inside but he bit his lip, demanding silence. Sick, he felt it touch his tongue and then slide back inside.
The red-eyed boy didn't want to be there anymore, he regretted ever stepping on this coach. He couldn't take it, he wanted it to stop. "Pl--ase," he whispered, unheard, unembraced, unknown.
No one saw him as he curled further, hiding his head in his legs as he cried. No one heard the pleads from his throat. No one felt the vines fiddling with his insides. The only path ahead was to give up.
His eyes danced along the rooftops, blaring silence in his eardrums. It seemed they were in groups, separated by electric fences. Did they ever have disputes or days where they were in isolation? Is it just him? Is he not normal?
No, when was he ever normal. Not that he desired it, he aimed to stand out. To be a star, ironically he is the star of being alone. The can was nearly finished, light-weighted and easy to shake with his hand. Bakugo Katuski, the star of monsters. That'll be something. How could he have finished the whole of it, he was disgusting.
Thankfully, he fell asleep for an hour. He then woke up and sighed, still seeing the same houses. Was there anything diverse about this damn place? He fished through his bag, mainly to check his valuables weren't pick pocketed by any grape fuckers. It was all there but he still furrowed his brows. There were only three cans left. Now things became difficult, he needs to last on them but he didn't even listen to how long they'll be at this mystery place for. What if... he runs out, surely not, right?
YOU ARE READING
The tight vines!
Fanfiction-------FANFICTION------- A student lacking coping strategies, under stress and hard-working, Bakugo Katsuki. He begins with the seed planted within and as time continues, vines form around and start to tug at the male. He remains oblivious to the co...
