the only exception | bakugou katsuki

31 | sunrise in sunsets

Two years later—spring

The city of his hometown was conquered by flickering screens and chattery noises, walking along the busy streets of its night on the late weekend as he patrols the district.

Years passed, yet Bakugou finds the city a little too tedious. It wasn't that it was drab or just overly adorned with neon lights and extravagant adverts—there was nothing interesting. Yeah, maybe there were barely any villains in covert or it could be just him being too fucking good at his job. Yeah. Maybe that. Besides, it was a Saturday night and he has the Sunday off. But.. what the fuck was he supposed to do? Volunteer to patrol this godforsaken city? Spring cleaning? Not that he had much to clean anyway. Maybe visit his parents?

Bakugou huffs a sigh, tugging on his cap in the best of his disguise. He didn't want to deal with a boisterous crowd of fans—hopefully this works. He told that himself a thousand times. Patrol ended a few minutes ago anyway. Yet, he lingered in the street along with another presence beside him, humming to himself as the nerd beamed a smile at every passing fan who frantically waves at him.

"Quit that, damn Deku. You're gonna ruin my fucking disguise." The blond with the black cap hissed at him, glaring at him from the corner of his eye.

"Well, it can't be helped when we're always paired for patrols." The green head chuckled. "There's no point in wearing the hoodie and cap if you wanted privacy."

"Shut it," Bakugou grumbled. "Fuckin leave already. Patrol's over."

Deku huffed a chuckle. "At least invite me over for a drink next time."

"I don't need you nerding up my place. Go away."

"Welp, see you on Monday, Kacchan!" The green head waves at him before jogging ahead, disappearing into the sea of crowds.

Well, Bakugou lets out a deep sigh he has been holding in, that's done. Now, either he goes back to his apartment or roam the illuminated streets for a little longer. It was still early in the night. Maybe he'd go grocery shopping or get some new hiking equipment. Or just, walk. Yeah, maybe he'll do that.

Another deep sigh left his lips—damn, was he tired? Maybe or maybe not. Bakugou knows more than anyone that he would never be this tired after long hours of patrol. Kicking ass in the city was a thrill and he'd fucking love it. Grinning down the foes with a crown of victory on his golden head, but man, sometimes the aftermath makes him just wanna drop dead on the spot and rest for fucking eternity.

He would love to plop down on his enormous, fluffy bed of clouds in the apartment of his room. But the space that lingers beside him, around him, feels too cold and distant. Like he was missing something. The perfect, healthy human being of himself was missing something. What was it? And why?

No. It wasn't loneliness. Bakugou was perfectly fine with independence—he hates it when the damn old hag barge into his apartment like she owned the goddamn place, cook in his kitchen like she owns it—goddammit she almost burned down the apartment with her overly heated curry when they were bickering.

But yeah, that was fucking fine anyway. Still, he feels so annoyed at every silence in his room, especially when he's entirely aware of it.

Maybe...

Bakugou clicked his tongue at nothing and looked up, trudging and facing the front. Huge panel screens were all over the place straight ahead, flickering scenes of fake politeness for the sake of marketing. Some weren't wavering at all. Just digital posters of whatnots—movies and comics. Sometimes concerts.