STRINGS // KATSUKI BAKUGO [2]

Chapter 52 // Normal

You stared at yourself in the full length mirror leaning up against the far wall of your temporary room, observing your body carefully.
    
With your old athletic clothing hugging your joints and curves and your hair pulled back in a neat manner, you almost looked...normal.

You almost looked like the girl who stepped into the stadium of the sports festival with a cocky attitude and a dream you never thought would be attainable.

Key word: almost.

You were close to being convinced you were that girl from so long ago until you noticed the parts of your body that were clearly affected by your health.

The hem of your shirt no larger clung tightly to your stomach but instead floated slightly above it as your waist had grown smaller. Your shoulders didn't completely fill out the sleeves, causing your posture to look slouched. The waistband of your leggings hung a bit low, your hipbones not being defined enough anymore to allow the material to hug them properly.

'This is gonna be hard,' you thought, examining yourself further.

Training for the war wasn't going to be easy. Despite your determination and grit, your body couldn't keep up with your yearn to work anymore.

You were going to get tired a lot easier. Your movements would surely be sloppier. Your senses were going to be lacking. You weren't going to fight like you used you. You never would again.

As the brutal reality of your fate sunk in deeper, your eyes trailed to the floor, staring at the space between your bare feet, which you hadn't dressed with socks or shoes yet.

You saw through your bottom lashes a pair of familiar, muscular arms wrap around your midsection, hugging the parts your clothes couldn't anymore.

"You're overthinking again," Bakugo muttered, warm lips grazing your neck as he stared at you through the mirror.

"It's hard not to," you stated, fingers brushing over his hands, which were pressed against your partially revealed stomach.

"I know," he sympathized, thumbs gently massaging your stomach, which always felt eternally empty.

"Who's coming today?" you wondered aloud.

You had invited all of your classmates and even some students from Class 1-B to train with you in Ground Beta, which Aizawa had promised you could use since there were no weekend activities happening.

However, despite the fact that you had stated that training was something you wanted, many of your peers voiced concerns about you fighting again.

Some of them weren't fond of the idea of training with someone who could die at any moment. Others were simply still grappling that fact that you were slowly fading away. You couldn't blame them. Still, you hoped at least a few of them showed up.

"Don't know," he answered shortly, unraveling his arms from around you before guiding you to sit on the edge of your bed. "Last time I talked to 'em, they were all still thinkin' 'bout it." You nodded silently, anxiety settling in the pit of your stomach.

Bakugo grabbed the pair of socks you had left forgotten on your dresser before kneeling down in front of you and slipping them on your feet. Shortly after, he placed your tennis shoes over them and tied the laces snug.

"Even if no one shows up," you started, preparing yourself for the worst, "you'll still train with me, right?"

"Don't I always?" he replied, patting your knee after he finished tying your shoes before standing. He offered you his hand, which you took and allowed him to pull you back to your feet.

One thing you appreciated about Bakugo is that he never lied, even if it was to please your feelings. He could've reassured you and said that someone would surely show up, but he didn't because he didn't know that. However, he did know that he would be there. He always was.