PAPER FLOWERS ( k. bakugou )

chapter 12

' in vino veritas '

━━━━━

Alcohol is a strange thing. It can create. The alcoholic beverage burns her throat, feels like sandpaper against flesh.

Strange. It can show you the truth that you hate most of all, but it can also show you what you want to see.

And she hates the truth that she's seeing in front of her eyes. Poured wine on her lips, because she's miserable and power is oozing from her finger tips and all she can think about is the past.

The past where there was Tomoe. Where there were shields that protected her from hurt, because everything was all in vain now, because it was as plain as day, no matter how many walls she erected again, her heart had been wounded.

And there was no repairing it.

Kaede cries and cries again. Because there is no letting go. No letting go of the boy who loved blue and hated braids. Who adored his apples peeled and hated murderers who had no reason. Who wanted more to his life than a power who willed him. Who blushed under the light at obscene images, who preferred his tea sweetened with honey, who chose cleanliness over everything.

Tomoe who made her feel all those different emotions like various shades of the rainbow.

And underneath all the false things, and her self-proclaimed need for isolation, maybe Kaede didn't want to be alone anymore. It was just [extremely] unfortunate that she realized it when it was too late. That as much as she spouted all those wishes of isolation, Kaede wanted a companion.

Something to give her halcyon in those cold, arctic days. The one that would be the moon to her darkness. Something to contain all the stars inside of her.

And it feels horrible again, because she remembers how it's all so perfect. How all those people immediately appear at the mention of companion. Of friends. How they warm the ice in her soul, and light the darkness in her eyes. How there was peace in all that chaos.

All those days with them.

Alcohol was a thing that gave people murky visions, but there was clarity in the truth it gave her.

"Good night," she says.

"You too. Don't get into trouble." Take care.

No one except for Tomoe had cared enough.

"W-Where are you going, Yuko-san?" Kouda, her kind, soft spoken classmate asks her.

"The teacher's lounge, I have something to say," she answered with a cordial smile. "And you can just call me Yuko, no need for the formalities. You're like the nicest person in this class."

The boy blushes at the compliment, smiles, then says, "Keep safe."

No one had ever told her to be safe, because they all believed that danger flowed in her veins like the blossoms of the pink water lilies she'd seen efflorescing in the river.

"The rice is tasty here, isn't it?" Uraraka asked and Yuko nodded furiously. The rice was divine. So divine that she remembered contemplating becoming a lunch hero like Lunch Rush during the first time she tasted it. Of course that was utterly ruined when she realized that she could only cook instant noodles and barely managed to not burn the rice. She told Uraraka exactly that and the occupants of the table began laughing.

There was the small laughter and the tiny lilts in their tone. Laughing at jokes, and telling stories. A haven void of blood and light and darkness.