STRINGS // KATSUKI BAKUGO [2]

Chapter 56 // Can't Tell

Your eyes fluttered open simply to be burned by the sunlight peering through your bedroom window, causing you to roll over onto your other side to avoid the bright light.
 
Your eyes fell upon your nightstand where you phone lay, and you reached over to grab the device, which you didn't remember plugging in, before settling back down in the mound of blankets and pillows surrounding you.

You pressed your thumb down on the power button, watching as the screen lit up with a photo you didn't recognize.

'go to your notes app' was captioned within the lock screen photo, which was a picture of blond boy, clearly a selfie, laying in the very bed you were relaxed in at the moment. The only reason you knew that was because you could see yourself sleeping soundly in the top right corner of the photo.

You slid up on the photo, the Face ID embedded on the device unlocking the phone for you. Good thing or else you wouldn't have gotten in. You couldn't remember any password.

You soon found your notes and clicked on it, which automatically opened to your most recently edited note.

Your name is [Y/N] [L/N]. I call you Mighty Mouse though.

You're sixteen years old.

Your best friend (beside me) is Hitoshi Shinso. He's sixteen and practically in the hero course.

Your hero name is Marion, and your quirk is Puppet. Well the one you were born with is. You have three others from a villain attack.

You attend U.A High School, but you're sorta bed ridden right now.

You're ill. You have cognitive brain dysfunction which is why I left you this note so you have something to help you remember when you aren't able to yourself.

I'm Katsuki Bakugo. I'm your husband. I'm seventeen years old. I'm in the hero course with you. It's how met.

Well technically we met when you were in general studies but you get the damn point.

We've been together for a year and I'm gonna be there for you for the rest of your time here.

When you're scared I'll be there. When you're sad I'll be there. When you're ugly crying I'll be there. When you're confused I'll be there. I got your back.

Don't try too hard. You deserve the rest. Even if you don't remember much after reading this, it's okay. It's good enough that you know I'm here even if you don't know why.

You swiped down, bringing up your lock screen one more and observing the blond boy plastered across the screen of the device again.

'Katsuki Bakugo,' you thought, narrowing your eyes at the boy pictured. 'Katsuki...Bakugo.'

His face lingered in your head, clearly something you remembered, but he wasn't a strong enough figure for you to pinpoint specific events. He simply wandered in your mind, trying to find his place in your mind.

You set your phone down in no particular place beside you here crawling out of bed, clearing your unkempt hair from your face as you headed for the closed door.

You carefully made your way downstairs, following the smell of cooked bacon and the sound clattering pans.

"Morning," the man standing in front of the stovetop said upon seeing you enter the kitchen.

Your brows furrowed in confusion as you ran through the possibilities of who this man could be to you. You eventually settled on the most obvious conclusion.

"Are you my dad?" you asked.

He stilled, setting down the greasy pan he had been in the process of moving to the sink back on the stovetop.

His disbelief at the question and hesitancy to answer told you everything you needed to know.

"No," he stated, placing the plate of freshly cooked bacon he had just prepared in the center of the kitchen table, "but we both like to think so."

You hummed quietly in acknowledgment before taking your place at one of the four empty seats of the table, waiting until the man had cleaned up and set the rest of the food he and cooked down before speaking again.

"What's your name?" you wondered.

"Shota Aizawa," he answered, face so stoic it's as if he was afraid showing any type of emotion would cause him some sort of breakdown. "I've been taking care of you."

You carefully plucked a piece of bacon from the mound in front of you and began to nibble on it, mindful of its temperature and dripping grease.

"Katsuki Bakugo, he's my...husband, right?" you spoke. "He left me some reminder in my notes app."

"Hm," the man sounded, scooping some potato salad onto his plate, "I wondered why he was here so late last night."

Aizawa quirked a smile, exhaling softly as he grabbed a couple pieces of bacon to accompany the rest of his food.

"That kid is your shadow," he continued. "You may not remember, but he's with you whenever he can be."

You finished chewing the clump of bacon in your mouth before saying, "where is he right now?"

"With the rest of the class," he began. "They're searching for Midoriya right now."

You tilted your head at the unfamiliar name, and Aizawa immediately elaborated upon sensing your confusion.

"He's your classmate, your friend," he explained, "but he's been M.I.A for some time now. We've been working on getting him back."

Yo....no....im.

You cringed at the faint, echoey voice sounding in the back of your head whose words you couldn't properly make out.

Y..u...kn....h..m.

You pressed a hand to your forehead, focusing on trying to decipher the slurred words.

You know him.

'I know,' you thought, 'but I can't remember.'

You need to talk to him.

'Why?'

Because he has something we need.

'What do we need this thing for?'

To defeat..hi..a..a..i.

The voice faded away, and you found yourself overwhelmed with frustration at your inability to remember crucial points in your life.

"I need to talk to him..." you muttered, not sure why but knowing you needed to, "...to Midoriya."

"Okay," Aizawa agreed without hesitation, not questioning your desires. "When he's back, secure, I'll have him come over."

You ripped another chuck of bacon off of the strip between your fingers, noticing how the taste wasn't nearly as strong as the smell. Your tastebuds didn't seem as reactive as your nostrils.

"Does this bacon taste strong to you?" you asked.

"Taste's like bacon should," he replied slowly, staring at you intently.

You dug your teeth down into the surface of your tongue, noting how you only felt the pressure and not the pain.

"Can't tell."

[EDITED]