Stay with me!

Chapter 29 - Recoil more - T

Clothed elves, watching the customers from their shelves. Fairy lights were green and red as they traced along the cashier's desk. You can just about ignore the little shits screaming, but then there's the music. The Christmas-like obnoxious tunes to rattle your ears inside out.

Bells shaking as a man sings about making some pudding for your aunt, like who really related to that? And then the exaggeration, was Christmas that special? Apart from Jesus being born, what else was it? It would be another boring day with his parents and the added pressure to make the day something special. They've argued on most of them, ignoring Bakugo's face, so now that they're almost divorced, the bar is set pretty low.

The build up wasn't anything memorable, just occasional talks about the day and his father pestering Bakugo on what he would like. In all honesty, the boy had no clue what he wanted. Nothing specific was in his mind. He expected them to have separated by now but nothing has been mentioned on it. Not even a crumb could be heard. He went through the days locked away in his room, doing the same old shit and then he tucked himself in on Christmas Eve.

When he was younger he would have been unable to sleep from excitement. Wandering if Santa had delivered the presents yet. When did deceiving children become loving? A fat man taking all the credit of the parents, who would understand that?

It was Christmas day. He woke up as usual at around 8am. Not much time was dwelled on and he got up to brush his teeth before heading downstairs to see the gifts under the pine tree. At least ten could be seen which was warming, though he wouldn't tell them. His father was already on the couch, bouncing as his son joined him. Swear, he was more of a child than Bakugo. As tradition went, they waited for his mother to come down and it did take some of his father's calls to keep her awake. But it was helpful and she did make it towards them, hands on her hips.

He interrupted his wife, clapping his hands, "come sit down so we can open the gifts."

"Whatever, Masaru. He isn't a baby, I'm getting myself a coffee."

She brushed past the two boys and turned the kettle on. The older of the two, clenched his fingers as he muttered under his breath, something untangiable before raising his voice to be heard. "Come on! Just sit with us, it won't take longer than five minutes."

There wasn't a reply until minutes after, when she faced her husband with a football-painted mug.

"You always make it about yourself, lovely." He snarked and his wife nearly dropped the mug.

"You dare call me that, I'm not the one always fucking crying. There's worse problems in the world than your shit."

Bakugo felt it all proceed at the speed of light. They provoked each other and yelled, volumes raising with the insults until it reached a boiling point and the steam separated the two. The boy's mother was in her room upstairs and the father was... teary but with rage in his eyes. His hands shook as he grasped the landline phone and parted into the backroom, leaving the son to stare at his palms as his mind worked it's cogs together to figure out what just happened. He blurred into the distance, taken away from his parents.

Masaru raised the phone to his ear and spoke with hatred on the behaviour of his wife, to her father. He knew that she adored her father, arguably more than him or their son so there was no one else to go to when talking sense into the Mitsuki Bakugo. Maybe he wanted to dig into her weak spot too, that wretched woman deserved it in his thoughts.

He marched up the stairs and knocked the door open with his knee, gaining the attention of Mitsuki and her son, who had now moved up to be in her shield. Seeing his father cry was dreadful and at least his mother kept her composure, it scared him less. Bakugo's red eyes caught the hand that flung forward, with white knuckles around the curves of the phone.