bandaid | katsuki bakugo

twenty eight

yukiko pushed open the door for her apartment building, swinging her lanyard around her finger as the bundle of keys landed in the palm of her hand. opening the door, she stepped inside and kicked off her shoes, "mom?" she called out into the apartment, walking through the door to the kitchen, "mom? i'm home." she called again.

a small note sat on the table, "at a meeting. will be home late. please take the laundry out of the dryer and put it in my room. i'll fold it when i get home. love you, mom." yukiko read out loud, sighing. "guess it's leftovers for dinner." she dropped her bag onto a chair at the table, walking to the hallway, tugging out a laundry basket and made her way to the bathroom to pull the clothes out of the dryer.

the clothes weren't warm and they were a bit wrinkled from sitting in the circular bin for too long, but, nonetheless, yukiko dropped them into the basket and pushed it along the ground to her mother's room, a bit bigger than yukiko's room, but not much of a difference. lifting the basket onto the bed, yukiko glanced at the clock on the side table.

8:40pm, yukiko cleared her throat, it's so early. she subconsciously began to fold shirts and pants in the basket, hanging up any pencil skirts, or blazers onto a hanger. yukiko sat on the bed for a moment, her eye looking across the room. pictures of yukiko and her mother decorated the walls, along with family reunions and holidays with her mother's side of the family. everything felt distant. yukiko felt like she didn't even recognize the young kindergartener in the photos, a huge smile across her lips as she had her cup of bubblegum ice cream and her mom hugging her tightly from behind.

yukiko looked down at her hands, glancing back at the clock, distracted by a small stack of smaller photographs on the table.

about three or four were polaroids, while the other four were printed photos from a disposable camera. it was a photo of yuko, a baby and a man. the man's face was wrinkled as if he had gotten pinched. yuko smiled brightly, holding the newborn baby in her arms. the man didn't seem to be filled with much excitement.

flipping over onto the next photograph, it was yuko, again, cooing over the child while the man pushed through paperwork.

yukiko's breath caught in her throat, nibbling on her bottom lip, is that my father, she thought to herself, running her thumb over the man's crumpled face.

she moved onto the next photograph, a polaroid of yuko and the man, giant smiles plastered on their face as they looked at each other. yukiko could swear she's never seen that smile on her mother's face.

"they seem happy." she spoke to herself, looking through the next photographs, all of them wearing their classy uniforms and their daywear on weekends. yukiko reached the last photo.

the man held the child in his arms, showing her to the camera, while his face was crossed out with a red permanent marker, and overlapped with a black one. his face was crumpled up again, even a few tears on the photograph from balling the photo up.

yukiko nibbled on her bottom lip, fanning out the photos as if they were cards in a game of poker, her eyes scanning each one.

her hand hovered over the polaroid of yukiko's mother and the man looking at each other with those giant smile on their faces. lining the photos up with one another again, yukiko placed them on the nightstand again and made her way over to her room, shutting the door behind her.