✯𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 ✯ ᵏᵃᵗˢᵘᵏⁱ ᵇᵃᵏᵘᵍᵒ

𝟑✰

                                    𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟑

Some people say that our dreams send us signs about our real lives. I wonder if that's true, but sadly, I know it's not. All my dreams are about being a hero, seeing my old friends again, and, of course, about Kat. But those are just dreams. I'm not going to be a hero, I'm not going to see my old friends again, and I'm never going to see Katsuki again either. It hurts to admit, but I don't have time to try to convince myself these things will happen just because I saw them in a stupid dream.

These thoughts swirl in my mind as I stand in my white kitchen, the early morning sunlight casting a gentle glow on the countertops. The air is cool and still as I pour myself a glass of water after waking up at 7 a.m. on a Saturday, I sigh. It's probably my fault for falling asleep at 7 last night, but I was just so exhausted.

After finishing my water, I sit down on the couch and turn on the news. I know that watching the news every morning is kind of an old person thing, but I like to follow the stories of heroes saving people or stopping villains. It's something I've done since I was little. When I saw the words "Breaking News" flash across the screen, I thought it would be about All Might stopping another villain. But no, instead, I saw students from UA standing in front of the USJ. Some of them were bleeding, and they were surrounded by ambulances and police cars. Standing in the middle of the crowd in perfect view was Katsuki Bakugo. My Katsuki Bakugo. I sat up, looking closer at the TV screen. He had grenade-like things on his wrists and a bright orange X on his chest.

(Flashback)
✰✰✰✰

"If you do become a hero, what do you want your hero costume to look like?" I asked him, my voice laced with excitement.

"It's not if; I will become a hero," he cockily stated, his eyes glowing with determination.

"Yeah, yeah, just answer the question, Kat," I urged, rolling my eyes at his confidence.

"I don't know maybe a black costume with big boots for stomping villains," he said, a smirk playing on his lips as he thinks about that last part.

"Is that all you can think of? Just a black costume with big boots?" I teased, imagining him in such a plain outfit.

"My costume doesn't need to be fancy. I'm gonna be fighting villains, why does it matter?" he argued, shrugging his shoulders.

"It matters because that's how people are gonna remember you, by how you look. If you're just in a boring black outfit, nobody will remember you," I insisted, I've had a passion for hero costumes for a long time. I probably have 10 notebooks at home filled with fire hero costumes.

"Okay then, what do you think my costume should look like?" he asked, his tone softening.

"You're asking me?" I blinked, surprised.

"I mean, yeah, I trust you," he admitted, his usual cocky tone giving way to sincerity.

"Hmm, maybe you could still have a black costume but with orange and red thrown in to match the color of your explosions. And you could have grenades too. That would be awesome," I suggested, my mind racing with ideas.

"Alright then, that's what my hero costume will be," he said, a rare small smile crossing his face.

"Really? What if you don't end up liking it?" I questioned, worried my ideas might not hold up.

"If you like it, then I'll like it too," he replied, his voice steady and reassuring.

✰✰✰✰✰

His costume... it's exactly like how I described. I thought he had forgotten about it. No, it's probably a coincidence. He didn't once try to reach out to me after I left. Not one letter. The TV breaks me out of my thoughts.