Suckers For Temptation. (Completed)

22: Hopeful future.

🛑 WARNING, THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SCENES OF VIOLENCE AND DEATH. 🛑

After what had happened with Bakugous and his mother, he would eventually leave the apartment. He had hardly given Toga any idea on where he was going, and he would make his way out, walking carelessly along the rodes. His mind was clouded with so many memories. And as usual when this did happen, he could only think of one thing that could ease his mind. Drugs. He needed them; at least he continued to tell himself that he did. He would make his way into the nearest bar that he could find. It was one that he was quite familiar with, and one that he used to go to often

As soon as he entered he would go over to the bartender, and sit down at one of the stools. It was a quiet night, and although people often went to bars at night, there seemed to be very few that were even there.

Bartender: "Rough time?"

The man would say, as he looked at Bakugous knuckles. They weren't as bloody as they were originally. Toga had bandaged them for him before he had left, and as he stared down at the bandages, a picture of her gentle smile would stain his mind.

Bakugou: "...Just get me a drink."

Bartender: "Anything in particular?"

Bakugou: "The strongest you've got."

The bartender would start to prepare his drink, while bakugou continued to stare down at his hands. He would start to reminise on when he had first seen Toga. It was when he saw her on stage, dancing alongside Ashido. He remembered how Kirishima had pesterd him to come to the event so that they could both cheer for their friend. But during that time, he couldn't keep his eyes off of her. He was certain that most guys would simply look at her dancing on any stage, with provocative thoughts, but he hadn't seen it that way. When he saw her dance, he simply thought she was... Beautiful.

A sigh would leave his lungs, and the bartender would place his drink in front of him. His gaze would turn to the drink. And seeing it reminded him of how he was before he had quit cold turkey. He always had this one reliant. It didn't matter if it was alcohol, cigarettes, cocaine, acid, or any other addiction you could think of. In the end, they were all the same. In the end, any type of addiction, is simply a suppressant. And out of the ones he had used, all of them were slowly killing him. Maybe that was what he wanted before. Maybe he was trying to slowly kill himself.

...But... Things were different now. He didn't want to be alone anymore. He had Toga now. And for once in his life, he had something that he truly wanted to live for. He wanted to feel happy from now on. He wanted to feel loved by toga, and to love her in return. He knew that. And so, he would stand from the bar, and leave some money for his drink.

Bakugou: "You can have that if you want."

He would walk out of the bar, and drag his feet along the sidewalk, making his way back to his apartment. Once he made it back home, got to the door, and placed his key inside the lock, the door would fling open, revealing a panicked, crying toga.

Toga: "Y-You could have at least told me where you were going!"

She would sniffle, and hug him tightly with all her strength, which wasn't really much strength at all to bakugou. It was easy to see the once present streams of tears, stained on her cheeks, but even so, a smile would form on him and he would pick her up in his arms, carrying her into the bedroom. She would simply nuzzle into his shoulder allowing herself to sob once again.

Bakugou: "It's alright, I'm here."

9 years ago
Before the incident.

I was laying in bed that night. I remember being completely underneath the covers from the cold. The AC was busted at the time. It was on accident, but I had messed it up pretty badly from an argument that me and my mom had about it. I usually liked it to be pretty warm, but my mom would always tell me to leave it alone, and that because I was the kid, that I had to listen. Me being the rebellious kid that I was, would often lead to me not listening to her requests. She was always angry with me; expecting me to be more of a man all the time. Expecting me to be more collected and perfect like my father. And this made my relationship with my dad somewhat strenuous. I loved him for being who he was. I wanted to be everything he was. But at the same time I hated him for how perfect and pristine he had always seemed in my mother's eyes. I was only 9. And yet I had such conflicting emotions.