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❟❛❟ CHAPTER FIFTY SIX ❟❛❟
"SINCE WHEN?"
The words were a hushed whisper, barely audible above the low hum of the hospital and the anxious thrumming in Akame's own chest. She and Todoroki sat side-by-side, two still figures in the antiseptic quiet of the waiting room, their gaze fixed on the closed door of the psychiatric room where their volatile, blonde soulmate was currently undergoing therapy. The chairs offered little comfort, doing nothing to ease the tension that had coiled in Akame's stomach.
Todoroki exhaled slowly, the sound a soft whoosh of air in the hushed space. "Two days ago," he replied, his voice a low rumble. "Katsuki woke up first... before either of us. Mitsuki-san said he was hysterical. Screaming, crying. It took three nurses and sedatives to calm him down. He finally agreed to therapy yesterday."
Akame felt a cold dread settle over her. She knew Bakugou was loud, often aggressive, but "hysterical" was a word that didn't fit the fiery teen.
"Dazai-sensei thinks Katsuki probably suffered deep trauma from when we fainted in his arms," Todoroki continued, turning to Akame with a sad, weary smile. "The fear of being left alone. Separation trauma, I think. That's why he cried when he realized we weren't by his side. It's also why they moved him into my room."
He paused, running a hand through his hair, the gesture slow and heavy. "There's also a possibility that he's developed a fear of blood. We don't know how bad it is yet. But..." He exhaled, shoulders lowering slightly. "I hope he'll be okay."
Akame froze, the words echoing in the silent room. She hadn't expected the battle yesterday, the sheer brutality of it, to inflict such deep wounds, especially not on Bakugou, who always seemed so unbreakable. Her head lowered, eyes staring blankly at the polished hospital floor.
Right. They were still seventeen. Still children. In a world where children weren't expected to be warriors, a soldier, where war was a concept whispered in history books and not a bloody, tangible reality, Bakugou's reaction was terrifyingly understandable.
No wonder, she thought, a bitter taste in her mouth. No wonder he'd muttered so frantically. When Akame had said that she would fight the Otsutsuki alone yesterday, Bakugou had reacted immediately, his face contorting in a raw, primal fear that had shocked Akame to her core. He had looked so scared that he had cried.
Her spiraling thoughts were abruptly interrupted when a hand, warm and gentle, found her own, enclosing her palm. Todoroki didn't speak at first, but his thumb stroked the intricate lines of the soulmate mark etched on Akame's wrist, a silent, comforting gesture.
