STRINGS // KATSUKI BAKUGO [2]

Chapter 72 // Accept

Katsuki Bakugo second revival was much less peaceful than his first.

His back arched off the dirt as he coughed, the blood that had been clogging his throat erupting and further staining his face.

He immediately rolled over and grasped his chest, which he had remembered being in immense pain before he completely faded away.

"Breathe."

A hand landed on his back, and he didn't have the energy to shake it off despite his spiked nerves and wildly wandering eyes. He didn't even have the mental capacity at the moment to decipher whose voice was trying to calm him.

It's not like that fact mattered because as soon as his eyes settled on the gruesome sight inches in front of him, any remaining air within him sharply left through a pained exhaled that quickly devolved into a pathetic cry.

He had been preparing for this. He had been building a mental barricade to shield himself from the tidal wave of pain waiting to crash down on him, but nothing could've given him the strength he needed to face your corpse without breaking down into a mess of whimpers and tears.

He ignored the nauseous feeling in his gut, not knowing if it was due to his own physical pain or the agony the sight of your limp body brought to him.

He swatted at the hands trying to keep him at bay and crawled over to you, his never-ending tears splattering against your pale skin.

His gloved hands desperately grappled at your forearms as he dragged you into his lap. Your body sagged over his legs, a sickening crunch sounding as your neck rolled to the right, not having the strength to support itself.

Best Jeanist, who lingered behind him, didn't try to intervene with the boy's grieving, knowing the process was bound to happen eventually.

Bakugo pressed his left hand to your nape to support your head as he brought his other hand up to cup your sunken cheek, thumb caressing the bridge of your nose.

Your eyes stared ahead, unblinking and dull, unmoving and dead. Your chapped lips were parted slightly, failing to quiver within the small breeze as there were no nerves left to show any reaction to the temperature.

He whimpered at the very faint smile still adorning your face, well aware that you had no regrets in doing what led you to this point.

He sagged forward, chin crashing into your collarbone as he hugged your corpse against his chest.

The tears falling from his crimson eyes trailed down your back, eventually staining the dirt below.

With his left hand still supporting your fragile head, he pressed his other one to your lower back as if he hoped to glue you to himself.

A choked sob erupted from his trembling lips as he continued to bawl, shivering at the cold sensation your skin brought to him.

"Bakugo—"

"Don't."

The boy barely registered the voice of Aizawa cutting off a sympathetic Jeanist, who was still watching his former intern mourn.

Bakugo pressed his face into your neck, cringing at the fact that your comforting scent was no longer present to ease his pain.

A familiar hand was placed upon his shoulder, and he reluctantly lifted his head, sniffling as he looked up to find Aizawa standing beside him.

Monoma was with the pro hero, still grasping the man's hand to maintain Erasure as he kept his eyes on the raging Shigaraki, who was currently battling with an infuriated Midoriya.

When had the One For All User even arrived?

"Take her back," Aizawa instructed quietly, calloused hand still pressed against his student's trembling shoulder. "We've got it from here."

Bakugo didn't argue. He preferred staying with you regardless of if you were still breathing or not rather than continuing to fight without you by his side.

Leaning back on his heels, the boy gathered you horizontal in his arms, one arm beneath the bend of your knees as the other supported your upper back.

"Where...am I supposed to take her?" Bakugo asked quietly, knowing any raise in tone would reveal just how incapable he was of taming his emotions.

"The hospital," Aizawa replied. "They'll hold her until...until we're ready to bury her."

The boy's eyes never left your drained face as he shifted, prepared to leave the battlefield. However, a sudden thought had him pausing to ask another question.

"Where's Eri?" he whispered.

"All Might is watching over her right now," Aizawa answered, and he continued speaking before his student could say anything in response, already knowing what the blond was thinking. "Bakugo, even if Eri were able to heal her, revert her brain back to a time before it was compromised, it's likely her mind would have to go back to a point where she didn't even know you in order for her to stay healthy enough to live. You wouldn't want her to live not knowing who you were, not being able to love you, and she wouldn't either. Let her rest, she deserves it."

Bakugo dug his teeth into his bottom lip, eyes narrowing as they began to burn. He exhaled deeply through his nose, shuddering.

"How do you know?" he wondered.

"Because I already tried to have it done," he responded solemnly. "I did some research, talked with a couple psychologists, the same ones who have helped Eri, and they all came to the same conclusion."

Aizawa had accepted it. Best Jeanist had accepted it. Everyone had accepted it. While Bakugo had been preparing for this moment, he didn't realize until the second you stopped breathing that he was never going to truly accept that fact that you were gone.

[EDITED]