"𝐖𝐡𝐲 𝐝𝐨 𝐈 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬?" - 𝐊. 𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝐨
𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐨: This story is Slowburn, follows a couple of months after the epilogue and is accurate/realistic.
WARNING: My writing style is very detailed, so if you aren't into d...
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-2nd person pov-
December 21st, Saturday - 4:53 pm
The streets were quieter than usual, wrapped in that lazy kind of hush only Sunday afternoons carried.
No traffic hum.
No crowded sidewalks.
Just the distant flutter of wind brushing through bare branches and the soft tap of your steps on the pavement.
You adjusted the strap of your bag on your shoulder and switched the briefcase to your other hand.
It was heavier than you remembered-not just in weight, but in meaning.
Inside, your old hero costume sat folded and worn, battle damage stitched into its seams like scars.
Your utility gear was nestled next to it-quirk-enhancing gloves, magnetic clip modules, the old brace you'd worn during long-range strain periods.
It had all seen better days.
But it had also seen you-at your sharpest, your fastest, your strongest.
And now, it was finally getting pulled out of the dark.
You glanced down at your outfit as you walked.
You'd kept it simple-nothing too flashy, just a cozy off-the-shoulder sweater, a pair of relaxed sweatpants that still hugged your frame just right, and clean sneakers.
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Hair pulled back loosely in a half up half down hairstyle with a few strands framing your face.
Minimal jewelry-just small hoops and a simple chain.
Enough to feel like yourself.
The walk to Bakugo's agency wasn't long.
It wasn't far from where you lived, and your body had gotten used to the route by now-like muscle memory.
