STRINGS // KATSUKI BAKUGO [2]

Chapter 8 // Waiting

You started your shopping in the produce section, buying the usual fruits and vegetables you and Bakugo ate; oranges, bananas, tomatoes, lettuce, carrots, and cucumbers were what you bagged up and set in your cart before moving onto the next isle, meat.

You didn't eat tons of meat, not straight at least. You had sandwiches that included meat once in a while, but you were more of a "snacking" person rather than a "three meals a day" person. However, Bakugo was very strict with his diet. He ate three meals a day, breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and he liked specific meat.

As you were looking for his preferred meat, you felt your phone beginning to buzz within your pocket: a phone call.

You pulled out your phone and glanced at the caller ID, which read "Mom" in pristine white letters.

"Hey, Mom," you said as you answered the call, sandwiching the device between your shoulder and ear as you picked up a pack of bacon to inspect.

"[Y/N]?" your mother questioned. Her voice was steady but quiet, quiet in a way that, if she raised it even the slightest bit, her speech pattern would become unsteady.

"What's up?" you asked as you set the pack of bacon in your cart before resting your elbows on the handle of the rolling basket.

"Just checking in," she stated. She rushed the sentence out almost as if she had limited time to say what she wanted. "How's it going in America?"

"Good," you replied slowly, confused as to why she sounded so odd. "Me and Kat are taking a break from training and stuff to relax. How are you and dad?"

"We're good," she exhaled, "and that's good that you're taking a break. You two deserve it. You work hard. I'm proud of you."

"Thanks, Mom," you said. You wanted to smile at the statement, but the uneasiness in her voice made your face contort with worry. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, yes, I'm fine," she assured. "I'm just missing you."

"I miss you too, Mom," you replied, scanning over numerous slabs of meat before choosing one you knew your boyfriend would like and placing it with the rest of the food you had complied.

"[Y/N]?" she questioned as if she was unsure you were still there.

"Yeah?" was your immediate response.

"Remember what I told you when you were younger?" she asked. "Remember what I told you about the voices?"

"Mom, where is this coming from?" you demanded to know, but she dismissed your question.

"Do you remember?" she pried.

You signed, confused and frustrated with her strange behavior, but you still answered her question.

"Block them out," you explained, "the mean people. Block the mean people out. Read them before they can read you. They have no power over you if you're one step ahead of them."

"Exactly," she replied with a breathy laugh. "Yes, that's exactly what I told you."

"Mom," you began, fingers clutching at the handle of your cart, "is there something wrong?"

"No," she stated, "no, there's nothing wrong, Honey."

"You're acting weird," you accused. "Mom, why are you acting weird?"

"Listen to me, [Y/N]," she said firmly, but there was still another emotion underneath her stern tone. Sadness? Anxiety? Fear? "I need you to remember that, what I told you about the voices. You do not let them win. You fight back. You're a fighter. You're my daughter after all."