𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐃 ʙɴʜᴀ

eleven

TO PUT THE WEIGHT OF THE WORLD ON SOMEONE'S SHOULDERS IS A BURDEN SIMPLY ANYONE CAN'T HANDLE. And yet, Bakugou seems to be holding the whole universe on his shoulders.

Aizawa can't wrap his head around the young, explosive teen. He can't make sense of him or his selective muteness; his decision not to take One for All; his eyes in which a storm stirs in; and his shrunken in cheekbones.

If anything, Bakugou's explosive quirk should've shaped him to be quite the opposite. In front of him should've been an abrasive, head-strong, stubborn, prideful, maybe even a bit insulting, teen. And yet, Bakugou Katsuki is anything but. He caves in on himself, his shoulders hunched and head lowered as if to make himself seem smaller. His lips stay sealed, zippered with a frowned lock with the key lodged down his throat, choking his words. His feet turn in on each other, restricting his body and hiding it from others. He remains docile, only shaken into action when danger calls. And even then, he seems hesitant to act.

It makes Aizawa question: just who is Bakugou Katsuki?

He's certainly a problem child, that's for sure.

"Bakugou, what happened back there?" Aizawa asks softly, his voice light. He didn't want to sound demanding and back the kid into the corner, but he certainly needed an answer.

Bakugou shrugs.

Aizawa sighs. A shrug doesn't answer anything. It doesn't answer why just minutes ago, Bakugou was grabbing Kaminari by the shirt, arm raised and hand armed with an explosion, lips opened and ready to yell obscenities. Because Aizawa had turned his head away from the hallway for two seconds, and in those two seconds, the most quiet kid in class was about to explode the loudest.

How the hell it even happened? That's what Aizawa wants to know. It's clear Bakugou needs some sort of help, but the required therapy secessions with Hound Dog he has every week does nothing when Bakugou doesn't seem to want any help himself.

"C'mon kid, you're not in trouble. I just have to know why you reacted the way you did so we can try to prevent it from happening in the future. It's a step foward we can take, instead of just remaining in this limbo."

Limbo.

Bakugou deserves to remain there, Mr. Aizawa. Why can't he see that? Katsuki keeps his eyes trained on the floor.

"Think of it this way: you're in the ocean," a spotless beach erupts in his brain, "and the tide is strong. It's an overcast day, the waves are rough and it almost feels like you're never going to get out of it. You're swimming with all your might, you have been for a while, and you try to swim foward towards the shore."

Bakugou can feel the salt water in his lungs and the strain on his muscles.

"But you realize it's never going to work to swim foward against the current. So you change directions. You swim diagonally, to the side. And slowly, you can finally feel the sand beneath your feet as you return to the shallow water. You made it to the shore."