(Sin)namon Rolls

Chapter 17: Flashes

A/N: tw: vomiting
it's a v quick scene and it's not super graphic or anything i just wanted to put a warning just in case yknow
•••
     Can we get back to me now, please? Thanks.
Anyway, Bakugo was asked to attend a gala at the Tokyo Hero Museum for the unveiling of his own exhibit in March. Needless to say, I was his plus one. The museum was actually debuting a whole section - ten new exhibits for ten new heroes - so it was expected to be quite a big event; so big in fact that Bakugo caved and hired a professional stylist for it.
Personally, I thought we looked atrocious. Orange and green just don't go together. It doesn't matter if it's jade green and burnt orange, they still clash. The stylist tried to make us look more coordinated by giving me a burnt orange tie to match Bakugo's suit and Bakugo a jade green pocket square to match mine. It was effective to some extent, I'll admit, but it didn't change the fact that we looked like a corny supervillain duo in a kid's Halloween movie. It wasn't my fault Bakugo chose such an inconsonant color scheme for his hero costume and yet there I was paying the price for that decision because the gala's theme happened to be hero wear.
I'd been grappling with my burnt orange tie in the bathroom for a good while when Bakugo knocked on the door.
"I'll be out in a second," I said.
Bakugo opened the door and walked in. I glanced at him.
He didn't look that bad. Orange worked for him, weirdly enough. He'd been forced to comb back his hair as he had for the press conference and the performance with Kaminari's band once more. He resented having it like that because of the effort it took to do so, but I much preferred it over his hair's natural post-electrocution state. Since I liked it, he did it. That was how a lot of things went with us.
"You look nice," I said.
Bakugo leaned back against the wall behind me with crossed arms.
"No, I don't. I look like a fucking pumpkin."
I laughed. "You make a sexy pumpkin, Kacchan."
"Can't say I've ever heard that before."
I undid another botched attempt at a Windsor knot and prepared to start over.
"Need some help there, Deku?"
I dropped my hands down to my sides with a heavy exhale.
"Yes, please," I said.
"Alright. Come here."
I turned around. Bakugo stepped forward to work on my tie.
"I like the green," he said. "Makes you look like a walking piece of broccoli."
He wasn't wrong. With my hair grown back, I really did resemble a vegetable.
"Oh?"
"Yeah. It's cute."
"Cute broccoli and a sexy pumpkin," I mused.
"Remind me to write that down. We're gonna do that shit for Halloween this year."
For a moment, I pitied him.
Just for a moment.
•••
The gala wasn't that different from anything else I'd gone to with Bakugo before. Red carpet events like that got old fast. Stepping out of a limo with a celebrity on my arm was glamorous and all, but the rest of the experience was exhausting. There was the walking, and the camera flashes, and, my god, the shouting. The attention was fun at first, but by this point it had become a burden.
I'd been having difficulty sleeping. The night before the gala, I didn't sleep at all. I couldn't focus when one person was speaking to me never mind dozens of people at once.
I felt nauseous. I wasn't sure if the gala's carpet just felt longer than any I'd walked in the past or if it really was, but it had stairs. What kind of sick joke was that? Stairs? Fuck that.
I was... anxious. I'd thought Uraraka had beaten every last shred of anxiety out of me a long time ago. The realization alone that I was afraid put me even more on edge.
I had to put on two fronts simultaneously. I was keeping my Izuku face on for Bakugo - his loving childhood friend and current significant other, perpetual pushover Izuku Midoriya. On top of that I had to maintain my public image as the wholesome sweetheart of Japan despite physically feeling like I'd just been hit by a truck and mentally feeling like I was going to be hit by another at any given moment.
I asked someone who looked like an employee where the bathrooms were once we'd made it inside the building. I immediately sprinted in the direction vaguely indicated to me by the staff member. I shoved open the door to the men's restroom, stumbled into a stall, and crashed to my knees in front of the toilet without closing the door. I barely made it in time before I started retching. What little food I'd had to eat that day came up violently. I breathed shallowly while the vomiting subsided. The door to the bathroom opened and slammed shut.
"Deku!"
I wiped my mouth, stood up, and flushed the toilet. I turned around to see Bakugo in front of me, worry written on his features. He was panting.
"What happened? Are you okay? Are you sick?"
I walked past him to get to the sinks.
"I'm okay," I said.
I placed my trembling hands under the automatic faucet's sensor then reached for the soap dispenser.
I looked up at the mirror. Bakugo was watching me with a perturbed look. I looked away. I dried my hands with a paper towel and threw it in the trash. When I turned to walk towards the door, Bakugo stopped me by grabbing my shoulders. I met his troubled eyes warily.
"You know I worry about you," he said softly. "You do shit like this and expect me to believe you when you say you're fine. What the hell is that about, huh?"
"I'm fine. Really. It's nothing. Just food poisoning or something."
"Oh, yeah? From what food? You don't eat, Deku. I know something's up with you. Please, baby, I... I hate seeing you like this. What's wrong? Just let me help. We can go home if you want. I'll call the driver right now."
"No. Don't. This is important to you."
"It's not as important to me as you are. If you need to leave, I'll leave."
I studied his face. He was serious. Whatever I told him to do in that moment, he'd do it.
"I'm fine, Kacchan," I said firmly. "Let's go. They're gonna start soon."
I pulled out of his grasp. He yanked me back by my hand.
"You're not fucking fine, Izuku!"
"Let go of me."
"What?"
"Let go."
Bakugo's expression teemed with hurt, but he released me.
"I said I'd go to this with you. I feel fine. I'm going outside now whether you come with me or not. So, what're you gonna do, Kacchan? Are you gonna stay here, or are you gonna go see the goddamn exhibit they made for you?"
Bakugo closed his eyes for a few seconds.
"I'm coming with you," he said.
We walked back out to the lobby where the rest of the attendees were waiting. We sat down on a couch against the wall away from where everyone else was mingling.
"I'm sorry," Bakugo said.
"You don't have anything to be sorry for."
"I feel like I do."
The crowd started to file in through the hallway leading to the rest of the museum, meaning the rope in front of it had been removed and entry was now permitted. I stood up. Bakugo remained seated. I held out my hand to him.
"C'mon," I said.
He got up and took my hand.
We followed the rest of the guests into the first section of the museum. The brand new area was saved for the end of the tour, I'd been told, so what we walked into was a space centered on older heroes.
The next room was more of the same stuff as the last, same heroes, same meaningless crap.
The third area we were taken into was a room entirely focused on All Might.
Words and images popped into my head before I could process them. Words like Golden Age, David Shield, California, Nighteye... Images of Kacchan... images of 50C... images of Bakugo. Images... images... words... feelings...
"Deku."
"Huh?"
"They're going to the next floor without us."
"Oh. Sorry. I'm coming."
•••
A dinner and an after party we were invited to had also been scheduled for the evening, but Bakugo and I went home right after the tour.
I told him I was going to take a shower and headed upstairs to the bathroom.
I shucked my jacket off on my way up the stairs and tossed it into Bakugo's bedroom. I closed myself in the bathroom before removing my tie and throwing it to the floor. I shut myself in the tiny room where the toilet itself was and sat down on it. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and frantically dialed a number I knew by heart.
"Dek—?"
"Are you alone?"
"Um, yes."
"Good. I need you to promise me you won't repeat what I'm about to say to you to anyone. Especially not Uraraka or Iida. Can you do that for me, Shoto?"
"Yes. I promise."
"Okay... I... I'm having... emotions?"
"Emotions?"
"I can't sleep. I keep getting flashes of pictures and- and phrases that I don't understand. I don't know what's happening to me, but... but I think I have to do it tonight. If I don't kill him now, I'm not sure I'll be able to at all."
"And you don't want the other members to know?"
"Not yet. I'll call you after it's been done. You can tell them afterwards. I need you to deliver some items to me first."
"Okay."
"Quirk-cancelling restraints and a pistol. Bring them to 50C's residence."
"Got it. Won't be a problem."
"Thank you, Shoto."
"Of course."
I ended the phone call.
I got up and opened the door.
Bakugo's horrified face stared back at me.
"Ah, fuck."