A reason for living

Talk to me

Bakugou lays on his bed, as usual, laying with his back faced to the door and his eyes closed. He sleeps. I missed seeing him sleep so peaceful. When I turn to the mother and father, my hand makes a gesture to come inside, but quietly. Together, we make our steps inside the tidy room.

Bakugou's mother holds her hand in front of her mouth, looking around the room and him. Her eyes sink, her lids are a little irritated and thick, her nose tip is red and she looks like a mess all in all. Frowning, she looks at her son laying in the sickbed. Seeing him after such a long time -and in this state- is laying extremely heavy on her. I feel so sorry and pained looking inside this facial expression. His father though just looks concerned- he's probably not the most emotional type of person.

I step to the side of the room, leaning against the wall with my hands behind my butt, so the parents would have space and their freedom to get closer to Bakugou whenever they like. Mitsuki gets closer to her son, starting to hold her breath. But suddenly, she throws her torso around to her husband, to bury her face inside his chest, crying. It looks so terrible, so tormenting.

Her cries are as quiet as possible, her breathing as quick and snatched. When her back relaxes from the breathing, she moves away and looks at her son again.

„This is him?" She whispers as quiet as possible, hands beneath her chin and in front of her breasts. My eyebrows knit, but I don't say a word. As soon as she said it, Bakugou suddenly moves a little, positioning his arm beneath his cheek and knitting his eyebrows together, moaning. Mitsuki puts her hand before her mouth again and gasps shortly.

„Honey- go on." Her husband touches her back slightly with his fingertips and pushes her forward. He himself keeps his distance and puts his hands back into his pockets. The concern is not as clear as the seriousness on his face. It's kind off odd.

Slowly, Mitsuki steps towards his bed. With a deep inhale, she stretches out her shaky hand and brushes against the blanket on Bakugou's thigh. Quickly, she takes her hand back to her body and shortly looks at the two fingertips with which she touched him. Her face changes in being curious if he wakes up from a slight touch like this. But just a second later, his thigh moves up to his body and his eyes slowly open.

His lashes start seesawing and by the passing of about two seconds, which felt like ten minutes, he moves his arm out of the blanket, to help himself get up with it. Directly, his mouth draws into a bite of his bottom lip and his eyes shut in pain. I pout and have the urge to run up to him and help him sit up straight. But this is not my moment and I have to stay as calm and invisible as possible.

Slowly, Bakugou gasps his way up, his still muscular arm shaking in effort. My eyes burst back to the parents, with Mitsuki's body shaking completely and Masaru still having his hands in his pockets, but the concerned look comes back again.

Bakugou's eyes move to his mother. The tired look he had, the wrinkles beneath his eyes vanish as he opens them wider than I ever could imagine was possible. His heart probably skipped a few beats- shit, even mine did. His mother tries as hard as possible to suppress her sobbing by holding her hand over her mouth and nose, eyes narrowed, but not closed. He stares at her, for about one minute straight. Without blinking, without any movement. Then, he blinks for the first time. And by that, his eyes change direction and focus on his father. The pale look, the opened mouth, the unbearable breathing and the shock in his face couldn't be more shown that they are right now- and to be honest, I don't know if I'm ready. His eyes move away from his father, shakily hitting- me. He stares at me. But the shock I saw in his face doesn't look like shock anymore. He still keeps the same face, but I see his eyes changing intention. He knows it was me who brought his parents here. If in the end they just fight and separate again, then I will be the one to blame. And I don't think he'll understand my intentions. Or better said, he wouldn't care about them.