Star Core | Bakugo Katsuki

Hunger, Crave

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     "You've got be fucking kidding me."  (Y/N) smiles as she looks over him.  Then, she shrugs.
     "They're kinda gnarly, but I like them."  He raises his brows, unable to stop himself from looking down at her exposed skin again.  He could almost feel his breath picking up as he looked over them.
     "They branded you?" he spits out.  Her eyes flicker around the room at the word choice and he watches as they do.  He really wanted her to understand, to run away from that terrible company.
     "Yeah."  His head pulls back slightly, genuinely surprised she was already aware.
     "And you still like this company?" he questions before giving a small laugh.  She smiles at him and as her eyes focus on his face, tracing his outline for a moment.
     "I didn't back then.  But Taiga is an amazing CEO, and the branding was the first thing he got rid of the second he became the president.  Like I mean, they hadn't even finished getting the documentation out of the room before he called it off.  He also thought it was fucked up."
     "I admire your resilience, I really do," he grumbles and she chuckles, knowing it was hardly a compliment and more blatant shock.
     "I promise you.  Taiga has really changed things around.  Yamashige was..."  She shakes her head.  "Frankly, a terrible dude.  He let whatever happen under his nose as long as it got him money.  But Taiga fought to get put in the presidential spot after Yamashige's son backed out of the position.  He really cares about everyone there.  He's paying for tattoo removal for anyone who wants it."  Bakugo pinches his lips as he draws in a breath.  It was at least reassuring she had faith in the guy at the top rather than a corporation, but trusting a CEO to keep their word was often a poor idea.
     "Doesn't fix it."
     "It doesn't, but honestly, I think it's about all he can do."  He sighs.  He couldn't think of anything either.

     "Why the fuck did they start when you were six?" he asks next.  He could honestly keep himself up all night talking to her any time, especially with such new information swirling in his red eyes.  She shrugs.
     "I wanted to.  I mean, it's not a good reason, I was a child and had no idea what I was getting myself into.  Most started with then were six-teen, but my mom had a lot of tattos, including personal ones, and I always thought they were cool."  He watches as her leg twists outward on the bed and she pulls up her pant leg to reveal another, lighter and skinnier tattoo etched down the back of her calf.  "I regret getting them when I was 6, but I still like them.  Even with Taiga in charge, I probably still would've got them on my birthday, or at least the start of them."
     "What other ones?  Is it just that?" he questions.  She shakes her head, turning away slightly and lifting her hair like she always did at the gates.  A thick ring was buried in her skin there, a complex pattern taking shape within it, almost looked like shattered glass.
     "We used to use this as identification," she explains as she drops her hair and turns toward him.  "That's the one thing he couldn't give up.  They prefer chips, though, they put them in our hands.  I haven't gotten one yet."
     "Talk about dystopian," he grumbles and she laughs.  He watched her, the way her lips stretched thin across her face and her round cheeks raised, hiding her tallies and looking exactly like that photo of Anastasia she'd shown him once.  Her eyes cracked open and he stared as the bright (E/C) irises were revealed, watching him back.
     "I suppose," she breaths, her voice suddenly quieter.  She blinks and then twists her head.  They both glance away.  "But are super heroes and villains not as well?"
     "Good point."
     "We house hundreds of orphans, if not thousands.  It's really important we keep people out if they're not meant to be there."  He nods his head.