[#BNHA] [#BNHA336]
//spoilers for CH336
💥💥
"/You/."
"Kacchan", Midoriya warns, steel behind the heartbreak and exhaustion in his voice. Bakugou marches right past him, lips twisted into a snarl as he grabs Aoyama by the throat.
"Fucking bastard. It was /you/?!"
//spoilers for CH336
💥💥
"/You/."
"Kacchan", Midoriya warns, steel behind the heartbreak and exhaustion in his voice. Bakugou marches right past him, lips twisted into a snarl as he grabs Aoyama by the throat.
"Fucking bastard. It was /you/?!"
U.S.J. — the red glow of Aizawa's eyes surrounded by blood, face smashed into concrete again and again.
Kamino — fuck, /Kamino/, summer camp, a hand on his neck, that disgusting bar, chains, Jeanist, All Might, /All Might/.
All because of Aoyama fucking Yuga, traitor of 1-A.
Kamino — fuck, /Kamino/, summer camp, a hand on his neck, that disgusting bar, chains, Jeanist, All Might, /All Might/.
All because of Aoyama fucking Yuga, traitor of 1-A.
"You... How could you? /Why?/"
Pushing Aoyama against the wall, Bakugou's grasp on him isn't steel, isn't unyielding as he wants it to be. He's shaking too hard, his voice is heartbroken and exhausted, too, after everything they've been through.
"All this time..."
Pushing Aoyama against the wall, Bakugou's grasp on him isn't steel, isn't unyielding as he wants it to be. He's shaking too hard, his voice is heartbroken and exhausted, too, after everything they've been through.
"All this time..."
And why do the tears brimming in Aoyama's eyes make him feel sick? Sick and tired, sick to his stomach. Why, why—
"I'm sorry", the other chokes out, a heavy swallow making the muscles of his neck shift under Bakugou's flagging hold. "I'm s-sorry, I'm— I'm sorry, I didn't— I..."
"I'm sorry", the other chokes out, a heavy swallow making the muscles of his neck shift under Bakugou's flagging hold. "I'm s-sorry, I'm— I'm sorry, I didn't— I..."
Next to him, Kirishima says, "Katsuki", calm. A sturdy hand in the crook of Bakugou's elbow, a reminder.
Bakugou croaks out, "Why?", gaze never leaving Aoyama's. Demanding answers, honesty, now that the ugly truth is bare for all to see.
"Fuckin'... Tell me. Why'd you do it?"
Bakugou croaks out, "Why?", gaze never leaving Aoyama's. Demanding answers, honesty, now that the ugly truth is bare for all to see.
"Fuckin'... Tell me. Why'd you do it?"
What could've possibly been worth risking his life? Their classmates' lives? Their teachers' lives? All those civilians...
Yet all Bakugou sees is guilt, a guilt he's carried within himself for months and months.
Yet all Bakugou sees is guilt, a guilt he's carried within himself for months and months.
"I wanted to be a Hero", Aoyama whispers, and it hits. Hits Bakugou like a blow to the gut. "My dream. Always. Always."
The words are so familiar. None of this makes /sense/. "You made it into U.A.! You have your damn license already, you—"
"Not without a quirk."
The words are so familiar. None of this makes /sense/. "You made it into U.A.! You have your damn license already, you—"
"Not without a quirk."
Aoyama says it with a smile on his lips, so devoid of hope it has Bakugou letting him go, staggering back a step. Several members of 1-A gasp, Kirishima included.
"There's no way of getting into U.A. — not if you're quirkless."
Behind them, Midoriya is dead fucking quiet.
"There's no way of getting into U.A. — not if you're quirkless."
Behind them, Midoriya is dead fucking quiet.
The traitor, his classmate, slumping against the wall of the common room like his strings have been cut. Tears drip down his cheeks, drip drip drip to the floor.
"I never m-meant for any of this to ha-happen. /Never/, Bakugou, I s-swear it."
"I never m-meant for any of this to ha-happen. /Never/, Bakugou, I s-swear it."
Bakugou's so nauseous he can't move.
All those awful things he's said, the things he's done, things he's only begun to atone for. Midoriya took on a century-old war and broke his body over and over to change his fate, and Aoyama—
All those awful things he's said, the things he's done, things he's only begun to atone for. Midoriya took on a century-old war and broke his body over and over to change his fate, and Aoyama—
"And I wish I would've— would've had an All Might in my life. That I could've turned my story a-around and been /good/, like that."
Midoriya /whimpers/ at that and Gods, what a mess. What a mess.
"But I didn't. I didn't, and I m-made a mistake, and..."
Midoriya /whimpers/ at that and Gods, what a mess. What a mess.
"But I didn't. I didn't, and I m-made a mistake, and..."
Aoyama's voice goes out at that, sobbing so hard his shoulders heave. Caving in on himself, none of his sparkly persona left — and how much of that had been real?
How much of this pain had always been there, hidden in plain sight?
How much of this pain had always been there, hidden in plain sight?
Around Bakugou, people move. Kirishima goes "Aw man, hey..." in his gentlest tones, wrapping Aoyama in a hug that has the power to single-handedly fuse the broken pieces back together.
(Bakugou would know. He's had enough breakdowns end in one of those before.)
(Bakugou would know. He's had enough breakdowns end in one of those before.)
Against his usual fountain of emotions, Midoriya is crying quietly and rubbing the tears off his cheeks, a frustrated edge to the gesture.
Like he's tired of being upset over the same thing, and fuck, it hurts. It hurts.
Like he's tired of being upset over the same thing, and fuck, it hurts. It hurts.
It sparks something in Bakugou, though, something defiant and stubborn.
He's never been the kind of guy for comfort and nice words, he's fucking dogshit at it even if he's trying to learn. Trying to grow.
He's never been the kind of guy for comfort and nice words, he's fucking dogshit at it even if he's trying to learn. Trying to grow.
Flexing the hands he'd raised against Aoyama mere minutes before, Bakugou sniffles and crosses his arms.
"Join us, then. Fully. What's done is done, you're here and the world's already gone to shit. Do the right thing now. Fuck knows we'll need you out there."
"Join us, then. Fully. What's done is done, you're here and the world's already gone to shit. Do the right thing now. Fuck knows we'll need you out there."
Aoyama jerks in Kirishima's embrace, wide eyes snapping to Bakugou. Disbelieving. "But I... I'm..."
"A Hero." Bakugou's tone allows for no other option. "One of us. And we fuckin' protect our own. So you don't... You don't have to hide anymore. Got that, Sparkles?"
"A Hero." Bakugou's tone allows for no other option. "One of us. And we fuckin' protect our own. So you don't... You don't have to hide anymore. Got that, Sparkles?"
The sobbing starts up again, accompanied by frantic nodding. "Okay. Okay."
"Okay", Bakugou echoes, and it's not, it can't be. No society that forces people to measures that desperate will ever be 'okay' — but perhaps in its ruins, something better can be built.
"Okay", Bakugou echoes, and it's not, it can't be. No society that forces people to measures that desperate will ever be 'okay' — but perhaps in its ruins, something better can be built.
💥💥
Anyhow! I'm emotional about Aoyama & Bakugou! What the fuck!
Link to the top:
Anyhow! I'm emotional about Aoyama & Bakugou! What the fuck!
Link to the top:
https://twitter.com/KBstories/status/1467559577734557698?s=20
And here's the AO3 version: archiveofourown.org/works/31499552…
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