Mara Lee is just your regular teenage girl living a double life as New York's friendly neighborhood Spider-Woman. Until one fateful day when she's thrown through a strange orange portal and everything she's ever known changes drastically. Trapped in...
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It took every ounce of self-control I had to not visit Bakugo in the hospital over the weekend after the USJ attack.
The tension from my last visit alone was enough to keep me set on staying away, and the sight of his broken body, arms and chest bandaged up, filled me with nothing but guilt. He didn't have enhanced healing like I did, so those injuries were going to take months to disappear.
Classes continued after the weekend, but hero training was put on momentary hold. UA felt oddly empty; several of my classmates still hadn't fully recovered and were still getting medical treatment. Aizawa was surprisingly present, but it was also painful to look at his gauze-covered face and recognize that this was the cost of our safety. The other teachers all had a somber, serious attitude about them, obviously feeling guilty for not having been there to help the other pros.
Aizawa had pulled me aside on the first day back after class, his eyes grave and focused.
"There's something about your webs that affects Shigaraki's power differently," he told me, pronouncing each word clearly. "We noticed that he was only able to disintegrate things that he put all five fingers on, and that typically, the effect was immediate. However, when he used his power while holding your webs, it reached all the way to you and moved very slowly. At first I thought this was because the webs were still attached to your wrists, but then Bakugo grabbed the webs and was also affected."
I nodded, keeping my eyes on the ground.
"Do you know what this means?" he asked. "Any theories on why this is?"
I shook my head. "No. I have no idea."
"I thought as much. We're not really sure either. Anyways, it's best not to mention these facts to your classmates, and God forbid, if you see Shigaraki again, do not engage." Aizawa scratched his face, watching me.
"But what if I need to help someon-"
"Do. Not. Engage," Aizawa emphasized, glaring. "This isn't a suggestion. I expect you to obey me if the situation requires it."
"Izuku! Mara! Come eat!"
Inko's voice knocked me out of the memory, and I stood up warily, heading to the dining room.
...
The commute to school with Izuku was fairly quiet. He seemed lost in thought, scribbling furiously in his notebook, so I chose not to bother him.
I wonder if Bakugo will be there today, I caught myself thinking, immediately regretting it. .
I didn't have a right to think about him when his injuries were my fault.
But I couldn't stop myself from feeling a tinge of relief when we entered the classroom, and my ears were greeted with the angry screeching of a certain blond.
