[It'd be a lie to say it's all "over" and he doesn't want to put someone else he cares about in danger.]
I'll shove 'em up your nose and cover your mouth.
[Hmph. Infinite tracks of the same opulent hallways spill out beneath their feet. He has to play a memorized path to make it to his room (or cheat and use the watch) like a damn game: right, left, straight, right, right, left. The peacock's way of encouraging people to give up on their own room and shack up with someone closer. His guess.
As for the other comment...]
I destroyed it.
[Bakugo stops in front of two double doors, then sweeps his watch across the front. A lock clicks and he twists the knob before shoving the door open. His suite's completely changed now. Gone is most of the gold and gaudy decoration (a few accents stubbornly remain), replaced by a modern Japanese apartment suite. Stone and light tile accents offset wooden furniture ranging from dark walnut to warm elm. A few area rugs and runners cushion the furniture. Light enough to be comfortable without feeling brilliant or sterile. Occasional green sprinkles a few plants around for something to live and avoid feeling like he's locked away as much. An even balance of homey, professional, stylish, and efficient.
However, there's a notable sense of lacking inside it. Not as much furniture as it could have had, there are plastered parts on the wall and ceiling, the scent of fresh paint can't completely mask the smell of smoke, not enough area rugs to cover scorch marks and scratches on the floor, with other repair items lingering around. Seems someone's been working on redoing the entire "main" area = living room, dining room, kitchen.]
His eyebrows jump. Bakugo offers no more explanation that, just an ominous statement. But he doesn't need to; soon they're at his doorstep, and it becomes clear what he meant.
It's not a disaster zone. Thankfully. The suite looks better than it did last time, really: less tacky, more lived-in, with the Peacock's signature gold gone and some plants to add splashes of color. If it weren't for the signs of damage—the scratches, the crumbling plaster, the stale smell of smoke in the air—he'd be praising Bakugo's taste, while offering suggestions of his own. As it stands, though...]
You've really had a rough time lately, haven't you?
[He frowns briefly, his tone sympathetic. He already knew that, of course. He also knew Bakugo set off an explosion in the Roost, so it shouldn't be too big a shock to learn he also did damage to his suite. Still, was this really all a result of a suit flare...?
He knows how bad the Spades effects can be. The darker urges and emotions that can surface. Just because he's never done anything like this doesn't mean it can't explain Bakugo's behavior; the suits are bound to affect people differently, after all. And Bakugo is more hotheaded than him, with far more capability to do harm. If Hiyori had explosive powers, who's to say he wouldn't have also done some property damage by now? There's no telling and he knows it, so for the time being, he doesn't assume anything deeper is going on, even if the situation does seem a tad strange.]
Well, if you need help fixing things up, just let me know. I'm not one for the manual labor, but I'm happy to offer design tips! And since you're an Ace rank, I'm sure the staff would be more than happy to do all the grunt work for you. I knew this one girl who was a Queen, and she had the staff on speed dial. All she did was dial a number on her watch, and the staff would fetch whatever drink she wanted! So I asked for green tea from Uji, and they brought some over! Convenient, right? ♪
[He offers nothing past it. Hiyori wasn't here when Scott arrived. Wasn't here to witness every inch of the suite's main area rendered a blackened, scorched ruin. Fire burning in licks across broken furniture, smoke rising from cratered holes gouged through the walls, glass half-molten half-shattered strewn across rubble-covered ground, furnished pieces saturated with billowing gray, the cloying scent of acrid detonations and pungent copper splattering everything. A warzone after a missile strike from one person rampaging through a sea of agony and hatred. Actions torn free from a shattering mind amid his broken pride and scoured heart.
No, not something Hiyori needed to sully his eyes and heart with.
Much of it's been covered up by now. Mercifully keeping Bakugo's attention elsewhere as a personal project so his own suite didn't become a Pavlovian curse in his eyes. Putting his suite and body back together as much as he's working to do the same to his mind, heart, and soul on the inside. Of course he refused the peacock's bullshit offer to help with the repairs in an instant. He's doing the work himself; the resort only supplies the materials. Though despite his demands, the suite is slowly healing itself behind the scenes regardless.]
You want a water?
[No comment on the rough time. Those two days were the worst of his entire life in this place by far. All of this was done without the suite flare; it was his recourse after the fucking thing finally let him go and all the memories came crashing back down into his head. This was his response.]
This place can go to hell for all I care.
[Bakugo pops the fridge door open and pulls out two cold waters. He tosses one to Hiyori regardless, then twists the cap off the other and drains half the bulk.]
[It figures that they wouldn't see eye-to-eye on taking help from the staff. Bakugo's all about doing things for himself, while Hiyori has always been perfectly happy to let other people do stuff for him. Bakugo's like Jun in that regard. But if he trashed his suite during a suite flare, then it's the staff's responsibility to fix, in Hiyori's opinion—the suits, after all, were forced on them by the resort.
Of course he doesn't know the full story. What he does know is that his attempt to raise the mood falls utterly flat. "This place can go to hell" he says, and Hiyori falls silent, just watching him for a moment.
He does manage to catch the water bottle, though. Someone's been helping his reflexes after all.]
Thanks.
[He uncaps it and takes a sip, more out of politeness than anything else. Why was he invited here? What's the right thing to say? He doesn't know, but clearly beating around the bush and attempting to distract him isn't working, so he'll give that a rest.]
So...
[He pauses.
He could ask Bakugo what he wants to do next. What he invited him to his suite for, when he wants to visit Esikko. But there's an even more relevant question begging to be asked, one he doubts he'll get a straight answer to, but feels the need to ask, anyway.]
How do you feel now? You don't still think it's your fault, do you?
[The staff are part of the peacock. People who gave into their circumstances and sided with the resort. Whether they did it of their own volition or were too weak to resist, he doesn't give a shit. They're complacent. They're compliant. And he doesn't want a damn one of them interfering with him right now. Not after what the house did to him. Part of it is his own personal pride, wanting to fix what he broke himself. Both the other part is his wounded feelings, bitterness taken out on the resort itself. He's not taking any damn help from the place which tried to break him. And partially succeeded in doing so...
Bakugo comes to a stop beside the counter, staring out into the great room. Not really seeing it, eyes too busy caught up with his thoughts and feelings. None of them have settled at all, raging cage bars in attempt to get free and return to scouring his mindscape.
Bringing Hiyori here was little more than a knee-jerk reaction to prevent a suggestion they go see Esikko immediately. He's not ready to face the man. Doesn't even know if Esikko will want to see him after everything he did and said.]
Nothing's changed. I should've been strong enough to resist it.
[Didn't matter if the fist of an angry god came down and struck him with the force of twelve nuclear missiles. He should've been able to withstand it. He can't let something as pathetic as "i was too weak" be his excuse for failing. What kind of hero's going to be satisfied with that? Those unrealistic demanding expectations, the high standards he holds himself to, none of them have vanished. Only crystalized even harder within the heated wave blasting through his body from this event.]
Every emotion that day was mine. Nothing was created, just magnified. It was my fault, because that was me.
[He frowns, not angry, but frustrated. What's even more frustrating is that he understands, at least to some extent: that "nothing was created, just magnified" bit. He, too, was assigned a Spades suit, and he too can acknowledge that the nasty things he's said and done while his suit was active didn't just spawn from nowhere. That those thoughts and urges were already there, somewhere below the surface.
But still. Still!!]
Alright, let's put it this way! Forget about that suit business for a second. Do you remember when that mage girl attacked me? I told you about that, didn't I? As far as I know, she's still here, so that could always happen again. Last time it was "I'm mad you won't sleep with my cat," but next time it could be, "I'm mad you won't sleep with my hamster!" Suppose she did attack me, and I called you for help. If you didn't make it there in time, would it be your fault I got hurt?
[He waits approximately one second before saying, emphatically:]
Absolutely not! It would be her fault, and that's that! You would've had nothing to do with that hamster business, and you can't be everywhere at once, so there's no way anyone would blame you. If you acted like it was your fault, that would make me feel badly. After all, it's sad to see someone bow their head and wring their hands when they're not guilty of anything. I'd much rather see you being your overly cheeky, ultra-confident self. So!
[He takes a breath, finally, having said all that in a rush.]
Keep your chin up! Even if you can't right now, at least try, alright? It's what any friend of yours would want, including Esikko-kun.
[Honestly, did he expect anything less? Bakugo could've snapped at him everything was fine. He was over it. None of this mattered and he shook it off long ago! ... Hiyori wouldn't have believed him for a second if he heard his angry ranting obviously covering up the damage still splintering beneath his skin.
Hiyori has a Spade suit as well. He knows what it feels like to have the fucking thing leech at him and whisper those shitty comments. It's okay to let go, to break a rule, to encourage emotions, to ease up on restraint. How many times has the fucking thing suggested he indulge in the resort regardless of his loyalty to his boyfriend? How many times has he told him other people's feelings didn't matter, so be a nasty bastard? ... He's already thinking it.
What a fucking ridiculous overblown example. Still hung up on that cat issue, isn't he. Shit part is, Bakugo's well aware of this. Hell, All Might himself admitted in pain how shameful is was heroes had limits. Even the greatest hero the world's ever known couldn't be everywhere at once, couldn't go day after day without rest or sustenance, couldn't solve all the world's problems by himself! He knows this as well as any fucking person with a working brain!
... but-]
Don't fuck with me! It's not so damn simple! [He slams his hand shut, a harsh explosion consuming bottle and water entirely in a brilliant destructive burst. Smoke rises from his fist, eyes narrowed and teeth grit.] I know what you mean. Logically, you're right.
But what am I supposed to say when I get there? "My bad, I was too slow." Is that what you want to see on my face as you die? A hero doesn't have the luxury of trading a life for a fucking excuse! Someone died because I fucked up!
We know we can't be everywhere at once. [He opens his hand, looking at small crescents left in his palm.] Do you know what most heroes think when they hear about a crime or death? "If only I'd know. If only I could've been there. If only I was strong enough, fast enough-"
... I don't want "if only" to cost me someone's life.
[Stupid. Unrealistic. Insane. He's heard people describe heroes with those names. He agrees with them. Both heroes and villains are crazy in similar and different ways.]
If I had waited and taken more time to look, maybe we could've found a way to save him. But I rushed in. I thought I had all the answers and did the right thing. I didn't care enough about either of them to think it through. All I wanted was to win. [He turns his head and looks at Hiyori over his shoulder, red eyes boiling despite the serious expression on his face.] Esikko died because I made a mistake.
He's used to Bakugo's explosions at this point, but still grimaces at the harshness of this one: the whole bottle up in flames. It's only now dawning on him that Bakugo is just as broken up as he was a few days ago; that the things he said over text had no effect whatsoever. Of course he wasn't naive enough to think Bakugo could shrug off his guilt easily. But for him to still be saying Esikko died because of him, as though it's indisputable fact... it frustrates Hiyori, and it saddens him. It makes him feel helpless. And yet his own helplessness must be nothing compared to how Bakugo felt on that day.
He watches him with a face full of concern, not interrupting. He wants to butt in, but he doesn't have the right words. Is there anything he can do? He's not the right person to offer comfort.
But he's damn well going to try.]
You said he got blown up. And if so, that's what killed him. That person was the culprit, not you.
[Hiyori's voice is quiet, but grave. He wants to impress his words upon Bakugo, wants him to understand. But his shoulders sag and he sighs, knowing how hopeless an objective that is.]
Sorry. I know I said all those things about heroes and idols being similar, but I'm not heroic at all. My brother was always the responsible one. I just did what I wanted all day, without any sense of duty.
[He's selling himself a bit short here. But the overall point about not being able to understand a hero's perspective is true.]
But I do know what it's like to want to protect someone. It feels horrible when you can't, right? It makes you feel so utterly useless. That's how I feel about Jun-kun here, and it's how I felt about Nagisa-kun back home. But you know...
[He grips the side of the counter, his voice raising.]
Esikko-kun is alive again! You can see him, talk to him, tell him how you feel, and even save him next time he's in danger! It won't change what happened, but his life isn't gone. So!
[There's a reason this place has taken so long to fix up. Another reason he hasn't bothered allowing the staff to set foot inside this room. Hiyori's words dig into fresh dirt, squishing his fingers into raw soil barely covering bloody flesh of wounds far from healed. Scabs not yet formed, only clotted blood beneath stitches and patches pulling his mental body together from where it ruptured so badly. Standing among the faint scent of smoke, memories returning of crackling fire and dripping water, it takes little to ignite his volatile temper, unearthing so many things that are the furthest from "fine" he's ever going to get. Spark, ignition, and eruption. He's patched the same holes, he's washed the same burns, he's gone over the same spots on the floor, each one repaired before a bad moment sends his hand crashing into the nearest surface in a roar! Luckily, this time it's only a damn water bottle, a patch of slag in his hand flopping blackened and hot over either side of his hand.
No. Hiyori's words over the text weren't worthless or meaningless. They're part of those stitches and patches keeping Bakugo together right now. Scott laid so much groundwork that day when he found him huddled in his wreckage. Hiyori's comments later built on those desperate bandages and sealants. Walking through the resort's possible again because of those people who came to him with such words. He ca move even while he's broken and repairing himself. But this kind of damage doesn't fix over in a night, in a week, a month... He'll bear these scars for however long his life in this fucking resort exists. Until the day he returns home. Guilt never dies.
Or has Hiyori not experienced the galling shame lying awake at night when something embarrassing or painful returns to him even from years ago. When his heart clenches in his chest or his stomach twists and his emotions seize.
He clenches his hand completely, crushing the bottle's remain inside as bits of blackened plastic stab into his palm and underside of his digits.]
I know.
[None of what Hiyori says is something he'll argue. Going about it logically, obvious statements obvious. Does he not think Bakugo's repeated all those things over and over in his mind? Trying to run his brain ragged on excuses he can't accept? He's thought about them so much, he wondered if was going insane trying to argue with himself. Bakugo's never been one to shirk his responsibility, hated the feeling of excusing himself or being indebted. The very notion of getting away from this entire horrible event "free" because he "wasn't himself" or he "didn't do something wrong" rips his stomach apart. Of course he knows the logic and reality! He didn't pull the trigger on the gun! He didn't fire the bullet!
...
But if he'd done more, been faster, been stronger, been better, thought harder, waited a moment more, anything other than what he did, the bullet would never had been fired. They could've worked something out, could've talked an agreement, could've noticed the trap, could've done anything other than what he'd done. Each "could've" each "should've" each "if" each "what if" each excuse layers across his mind like so many vines forming a twisted bramble of thorns slicing into each other and the gore beneath. Until they clench so tight everything erupts.]
Then you know this shit isn't something you can wipe away so easily.
[So many other people in the resort, Bakugo would never bare this side of himself. His loathing, his weakness, his guilt, uncertainty, downright refusal to surrender what's tearing him up inside. Others he would bark at how he was "fine" and how he's already accepted reality, how he's moving forward. Hiyori... is not one of those people. This raw scathing struggle lays out in front of him instead.]
I haven't given up. [Not his intention to move forward, not his intention to be a hero, not his intention to save people, and he certainly hasn't given up his bullheaded guilt regarding Esikko's death.] But I can't shake these fucking feelings either.
[Bakugo didn't get off free. He's shouldering a terrible burden, one Hiyori can't seem to help him with. A pep talk, no matter how forcefully given, won't fix this. His only hope is that Esikko himself will say the same thing, and maybe that will finally drive the point home. If it doesn't just aggravate him further.
It just isn't right, in his opinion. For someone other than the culprit—someone who tried to stop the culprit—to take this much blame. Even Hiyori could find ways to blame himself if he tried.]
... mm.
[He hums, finally, when Bakugo says he can't shake it. And then there's a pause. Should he share his own feelings? He decides to, on the off-off-chance it'll help put things into perspective.]
I can't feel things too clearly, but I can tell when he's being hurt, sometimes. I knew something was wrong, and I thought about calling someone. But he'd said he didn't want any new people getting involved. And I didn't know where he was, either.
[A pause.]
... though I thought I smelled gasoline.
[The last bit is added quietly. His eyes have gone dark. But he shakes his head, knowing the last thing Bakugo needs is for him to act miserable too, and continues.]
He didn't want you getting hurt. Suppose you'd taken the hit from that bomb—that wouldn't have been any better. And I would've hated that, too, just so you know.
[Though that's obviously not what Bakugo had in mind as an alternative. He wanted a happy ending, right? Not one where the hero sacrifices themselves, but one where they save the day in the end.
It's sad. Seeing those heroic ideals clash against the terrible reality of this place. Against other people's cruelty and the resort's indifference to it all. Its encouragement of it all. Bakugo may not have been the victim here, but as a friend, his heart aches for him.
[He won't let himself get off free. This isn't the first burden he's weighted on his shoulders. For all his pride, skill, and life suggest he has everything golden and amazing, everything in order and perfect, neither are true. He's been through a lot, he carries his own traumas and sorrows, shame and scars which won't tumble off his back and roll away to leave him lightened. There are things he'll carry for the rest of his life. This is one them.
Something Bakugo and Hiyori can never see eye to eye on. Just how the blonde finds it almost impossible to resonate with someone looking down on themselves and having no self-worth. It's incredulous to him. People often think the same of heroes and how they can blame themselves for shit they didn't even do...
Hiyori's coming at this with a horrible handicap. He doesn't know the details, doesn't know everything that happened. And Bakugo's wounds are too fresh to explain it. That plant bastard's actions, Esikko's struggles, what happened when the two fire starters arrived, what was done and said-
His stomach twists, proving himself right, and he shoves the bile in his throat down once more. No, he'll tell Hiyori at some point. Later. When he can think about it without wanting to rip himself apart. Without forcing the idol to watch his wounds open up all over again.]
Aa. We would've gotten involved anyways.
[When Esikko called. How else would they have reacted? Bakugo rests his fist against the wall beside him, glaring into the living room so recently put back together, mind sparking with a few instinctive urges to blow it all to pieces again. He curls his fingers hard into his fist, struggling with aggressive reactions. Hiyori's presence helps keep them at bay; he can't show up to Jun with his boyfriend blackened and bomb rushed.]
If I'd cared more about them, no one would've been hit.
[Is it true? He's not sure. But his actions were what caused the second trap to go off before any of them were ready. As if he tripped the fucking thing himself. If he'd waited, if he'd thought more, if he'd given a shit about anyone or anything other than himself and his own victory, perhaps things would've turned out different.
So many fucking "if's" swimming arou-
Bakugo blinks, sucker punched by Hiyori's question. Haa? What the hell? A hug? Who asks something like that out of nowhere? Instinct screams against his, his pride roils backwards in aversion, he hates it when people up and hug him like that! Even his own mom can't hug him without having the blonde wriggle and duck like a snarling vermin to get away.
Most of the time.] Che. If it'll make you feel better.
[He is missing context, and he knows it. Truthfully, who is he to argue that Bakugo couldn't have prevented Esikko's death if he wasn't in his right mind? Perhaps he could have. Or, perhaps he couldn't have. Hiyori wasn't there, and his ability to speak on the matter is limited.
Still.]
Don't say that.
[His voice is gentle, at least, more of a request than a stern command.]
I know you care, no matter how this place tries to twist us with those nasty "Spades" effects.
[Not that that's probably any comfort to Bakugo now. If anything, doesn't it hurt to care? During his suit flare, Bakugo sounded like he didn't care about Esikko at all. That must have made things a whole lot easier. It would be easier for Hiyori, too, if he didn't care. And yet this pain they're feeling now is part of what makes them still human. Part of what makes them themselves and not resort puppets like the career residents.
None of that would probably be comforting to hear, either. Hiyori has no good words to say, which is why he suggests a hug. He's talked about their benefits before: how feeling someone's warmth and listening to their heartbeat can soothe anxieties and make a person feel better. Like they're less alone in the world; like they're safe and cared for. He knows Bakugo's thoughts on hugs, though, and anticipates being rejected. That Bakugo doesn't reject him makes him blink. Even though he says it'd be for Hiyori's own benefit, it still speaks to the gravity of the situation. Most times, he'd probably say I'll blow you up if you try. But maybe it speaks to their closeness a little bit, too, that he doesn't say that now. Their closeness, and what a good heart Bakugo has deep down when that ugly Spades suit isn't twisting him.]
I think it might, so...
[He bends over, leans down. And then he wraps his arms around Bakugo's shoulders. Carefully at first, like he's handling a porcupine. But assuming Bakugo doesn't reject him, he'll secure them, leaning his upper body against Bakugo and closing his eyes. If this hero can carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, he can handle Hiyori's weight, right?]
[Someday, he'll tell him. When the idea of detailing everything in his mind doesn't threaten to bring his stomach out his mouth. Far too many thoughts slither through his head, nagging him with whispers of doubt and regret. Pointing out all the ways he fucked up, leaving him squirming on his insides as mortification tightens his skin two sizes.
i know you care
Yeah, he cares now. He should've cared then too! He cared the previous morning, he cared the morning after, but for twenty-four fucking hours, he didn't give a damn shit! Any logical person would say "it wasn't me" and pass it off as not their responsibility. Yet his voice haunts his mind, his actions play back in his head, everything he said and did during that day feels as natural as everything he did the day before and the day after. It's impossible to get his head around, no matter how hard he tries. Can't run from it, can't swallow it. Stuck in his throat and chest.
Hiyori's trying to help him, reminding him of his own humanity. Of how he does care. Of who he is. It helps. In the same way digging a needle into your arm helps remind you you're alive. Because it fucking hurts. Of course it'd be easier if he didn't care! If he was a villain, he wouldn't have to be burdened by things like morals and feelings! Villains are strange creatures, always bitching about how they're put upon and chained up, when they're ironically freer than any hero could possibly be! Wouldn't it be easier to accept "caring" in a place like this means nothing?
Wouldn't it be absolutely disgusting if Hiyori knew somewhere in Bakugo's mind... buried deep in the darkness below his golden heart, where all those wretched things came from... he enjoyed it.
His wants to puke.
Arms slide around his shoulders, he tenses up instantly, pride and instinct flaring without hesitation. Yet he refuses to throw them away, fighting down the urge to break free of Hiyori's embrace. Focusing purely on his touch, warmth pressing on either side of his shoulders. Hands touching his chest and holding on. A warm heart beating on his chest, almost matching with the quickening pace of his own. Threatening to race wild, furious with his own sullied thoughts. Suddenly caught by twin emerald reins. Soft and gentle, not wrangling or wrestling. His pulse slows, heat burning at his waterline. Shit... Thoughts scream at him he doesn't deserve this. Words buck and remind him of what he's done, why Hiyori shouldn't be so comfortable touching him. But he does...
For all the weight Bakugo carries on his shoulders, for this fleeing moment, his head drops and hits the other boy's shoulder, spiky bangs scrunching against his body. Letting Hiyori carry his weight.]
[He'd be disgusted, alright. Though not with Bakugo himself.
Toying with their bodies is one thing. It's inexcusable, but far less insidious than toying with hearts and minds. He's had his own feelings twisted and reshaped numerous times since he arrived here, by his Suit, by things like those cupid arrows, by a variety of other status effects so small that he didn't always recognize them. Sometimes when he did realize, he'd laugh it off or even enjoy the change, as he did when Bakugo got hit with the arrow that made him act friendlier. But even those innocent occurrences were part of the same ugly fabric. For as long as they reside here, their lives—their very beings—are nothing but toys. Nothing but fuel for some uncaring deity.
For this place to make Bakugo enjoy something like that... it goes beyond "toying." It's unforgivable. And he's already angry enough without knowing he felt that way. He's so angry that it threatens to blot out everything else, a shadow cast over the sun.
But he won't succumb to that anger. Not right now (though all bets are off about how angry he'll get next time his suit flares up). Giving into his anger won't help Bakugo. When a friend is hurting in front of him, that's what takes priority. He is an idol, after all. His role is to make people smile, not suffer. Something he lost sight of once back in his home world.
Bakugo is warm. Fitting for someone with such a fiery personality. Like this, Hiyori can feel how strong he is, his solid form. But he's the one trying to lend his strength this time. He knows Bakugo's not the type to accept comfort. He's a big, strong hero, right? He doesn't need it. And right now, he must not think he deserves it. Any moment, Hiyori could be pushed away.
Instead, Bakugo rests his head. Actually leaning on him for a change. In the midst of all this misery, that's something Hiyori feels glad for. Usually, it's the other way around: Bakugo helps him deal with things, giving him weapons and self-defense lessons, taking care of his doppelganger and driving away ghosts. But even heroes need to rest their head sometimes. It's good to see that happen. Good to be useful to someone for a change. He can't do much in this place, but he can at least do this.
His arms tighten around Bakugo's upper back. Bakugo can't see it, but he's smiling. Sadly, but it's a smile nonetheless.]
When we both feel up to it, we'll go and visit him. Alright?
[Nothing but toys. Nothing but fuel. Some sick perverted entity playing with its food. Reduced to such a pathetic state. How the hell can people sit here and profess being content?! Apart from the obvious answers.
He's tired. As much has he prides himself on his grit and stamina, an unwilling spirit who refuses compromise or defeat... he's tired. He wants to go home, take those closest to him back to their worlds and ignore the rest. Tired of being here, of being made a damn fool. Sucks the peacock doesn't give a shit if someone's tired.
What he enjoyed that day, what he hates now, he doesn't want to put into words. Hiyori doesn't need those burdens while he's trying to comfort him. Already dealing with his own shadows and darkness. Bakugo's ready to let the topic drop for now. They have other things to focus on, someone else who needs more attention than him.
He's always given attention to someone's suit acting up if he knows it, willing to give a literal hand to stop the damn mark from progressing and consuming them into something they'll regret. Safe to say, he's even more wary about it now. If he comes across Hiyori dealing with his suit in flare, he's gonna fucking brain him before the idol has a chance to act further. Then figure out what to do from there... Hopefully he won't have to deal with it for a while.
Resting against Hiyori, it's easier to let things fall from his shoulders and hand, eyes closed as he surrenders to a damn reality he tries so often to ignore. A powerful Quirk, a strong body, a huge dream, an expected burden, for all his ambitions and life as a hero, right now... he's still just a boy. All Might said similar to him when Bakugo stood in the smoking street, shaking in sorrow and fury over what he'd done to his beloved idol. The same kind of comfort came, settling over his momentary weakness as he tried and failed to bite back the heat under his eyes.
Arms squeeze around his back and he curls his fingers into fists, brows furrowing despite himself. Dammit... He hates feeling this broken and weak. Especially in front of someone he always wanted to be strong for.]
... aa. [Yeah, they can go see him. Once they're ready.]
[Poor, poor Bakugo. Hiyori is anxious about visiting Esikko himself, but his trepidation must be nothing compared to Bakugo's. At least he recognizes that this wasn't his own fault. Bakugo, on the other hand...
Someone has to be strong here. The stronger one between them is usually Bakugo, not just in body, but in spirit much of the time. If Bakugo is weak, however, then Hiyori will just have to step up and be strong. He'll put aside his own fears, and he'll try to watch over Bakugo and Esikko. Hopefully, things will be fine between them. And hopefully, Bakugo will see the truth: that it's those brothers, the House and the resort who are to blame. Not that that makes this any less frustrating...]
Good. Then it's settled.
[He'll bring flowers, he decides. But that's for later. For now, he holds onto Bakugo, hands patting lightly over his upper back. He'll maintain the hug as long as Bakugo wants and allows.]
[Don't "poor, poor" him like he's some damn little kid. He's just a young man who's gone through a lot of crap in the past several days. He'll get through it. "Over" it is another question. Who ever entirely gets over scars? He knows he'll have to face Esikko sooner or later; cowering away in fear isn't something he'll accept. He's already talked to the other person he hurt. Now gearing up to handle the next. There's no talking him out of his fault for this.
Bakugo slowly opens his eyes, gazing half-unseeing at the wall far behind them. He hates feeling weak, hates feeling as if something's outside his control. But for now, for a short moment, he lets Hiyori carry those burdens. Don't expect him to do so for long. He'll take them back, shoulder his share, and move forward once more.
Of course he blames the house for everything, for bringing them here, for making any of this even possible. There are those who are more responsible than others in the shit going on around the resort, and he isn't letting them off either. But... he had his own hand in this drama and he has to accept that, address it, and make amends before he can see to his future beyond it.
Settled. Yeah, for now it's settled. Just... let him stay in this embrace for a little while longer until he feels ready to let go and stand on his own once more. It's what friends are for.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 9/13/25 01:22 (UTC)I'll shove 'em up your nose and cover your mouth.
[Hmph. Infinite tracks of the same opulent hallways spill out beneath their feet. He has to play a memorized path to make it to his room (or cheat and use the watch) like a damn game: right, left, straight, right, right, left. The peacock's way of encouraging people to give up on their own room and shack up with someone closer. His guess.
As for the other comment...]
I destroyed it.
[Bakugo stops in front of two double doors, then sweeps his watch across the front. A lock clicks and he twists the knob before shoving the door open. His suite's completely changed now. Gone is most of the gold and gaudy decoration (a few accents stubbornly remain), replaced by a modern Japanese apartment suite. Stone and light tile accents offset wooden furniture ranging from dark walnut to warm elm. A few area rugs and runners cushion the furniture. Light enough to be comfortable without feeling brilliant or sterile. Occasional green sprinkles a few plants around for something to live and avoid feeling like he's locked away as much. An even balance of homey, professional, stylish, and efficient.
However, there's a notable sense of lacking inside it. Not as much furniture as it could have had, there are plastered parts on the wall and ceiling, the scent of fresh paint can't completely mask the smell of smoke, not enough area rugs to cover scorch marks and scratches on the floor, with other repair items lingering around. Seems someone's been working on redoing the entire "main" area = living room, dining room, kitchen.]
no subject
Date: 9/13/25 18:28 (UTC)[But as for Bakugo's suite...
His eyebrows jump. Bakugo offers no more explanation that, just an ominous statement. But he doesn't need to; soon they're at his doorstep, and it becomes clear what he meant.
It's not a disaster zone. Thankfully. The suite looks better than it did last time, really: less tacky, more lived-in, with the Peacock's signature gold gone and some plants to add splashes of color. If it weren't for the signs of damage—the scratches, the crumbling plaster, the stale smell of smoke in the air—he'd be praising Bakugo's taste, while offering suggestions of his own. As it stands, though...]
You've really had a rough time lately, haven't you?
[He frowns briefly, his tone sympathetic. He already knew that, of course. He also knew Bakugo set off an explosion in the Roost, so it shouldn't be too big a shock to learn he also did damage to his suite. Still, was this really all a result of a suit flare...?
He knows how bad the Spades effects can be. The darker urges and emotions that can surface. Just because he's never done anything like this doesn't mean it can't explain Bakugo's behavior; the suits are bound to affect people differently, after all. And Bakugo is more hotheaded than him, with far more capability to do harm. If Hiyori had explosive powers, who's to say he wouldn't have also done some property damage by now? There's no telling and he knows it, so for the time being, he doesn't assume anything deeper is going on, even if the situation does seem a tad strange.]
Well, if you need help fixing things up, just let me know. I'm not one for the manual labor, but I'm happy to offer design tips! And since you're an Ace rank, I'm sure the staff would be more than happy to do all the grunt work for you. I knew this one girl who was a Queen, and she had the staff on speed dial. All she did was dial a number on her watch, and the staff would fetch whatever drink she wanted! So I asked for green tea from Uji, and they brought some over! Convenient, right? ♪
no subject
Date: 9/13/25 20:50 (UTC)No, not something Hiyori needed to sully his eyes and heart with.
Much of it's been covered up by now. Mercifully keeping Bakugo's attention elsewhere as a personal project so his own suite didn't become a Pavlovian curse in his eyes. Putting his suite and body back together as much as he's working to do the same to his mind, heart, and soul on the inside. Of course he refused the peacock's bullshit offer to help with the repairs in an instant. He's doing the work himself; the resort only supplies the materials.
Though despite his demands, the suite is slowly healing itself behind the scenes regardless.]You want a water?
[No comment on the rough time. Those two days were the worst of his entire life in this place by far. All of this was done without the suite flare; it was his recourse after the fucking thing finally let him go and all the memories came crashing back down into his head. This was his response.]
This place can go to hell for all I care.
[Bakugo pops the fridge door open and pulls out two cold waters. He tosses one to Hiyori regardless, then twists the cap off the other and drains half the bulk.]
no subject
Date: 9/14/25 04:47 (UTC)Of course he doesn't know the full story. What he does know is that his attempt to raise the mood falls utterly flat. "This place can go to hell" he says, and Hiyori falls silent, just watching him for a moment.
He does manage to catch the water bottle, though. Someone's been helping his reflexes after all.]
Thanks.
[He uncaps it and takes a sip, more out of politeness than anything else. Why was he invited here? What's the right thing to say? He doesn't know, but clearly beating around the bush and attempting to distract him isn't working, so he'll give that a rest.]
So...
[He pauses.
He could ask Bakugo what he wants to do next. What he invited him to his suite for, when he wants to visit Esikko. But there's an even more relevant question begging to be asked, one he doubts he'll get a straight answer to, but feels the need to ask, anyway.]
How do you feel now? You don't still think it's your fault, do you?
no subject
Date: 9/14/25 18:26 (UTC)Bakugo comes to a stop beside the counter, staring out into the great room. Not really seeing it, eyes too busy caught up with his thoughts and feelings. None of them have settled at all, raging cage bars in attempt to get free and return to scouring his mindscape.
Bringing Hiyori here was little more than a knee-jerk reaction to prevent a suggestion they go see Esikko immediately. He's not ready to face the man. Doesn't even know if Esikko will want to see him after everything he did and said.]
Nothing's changed. I should've been strong enough to resist it.
[Didn't matter if the fist of an angry god came down and struck him with the force of twelve nuclear missiles. He should've been able to withstand it. He can't let something as pathetic as "i was too weak" be his excuse for failing. What kind of hero's going to be satisfied with that? Those unrealistic demanding expectations, the high standards he holds himself to, none of them have vanished. Only crystalized even harder within the heated wave blasting through his body from this event.]
Every emotion that day was mine. Nothing was created, just magnified. It was my fault, because that was me.
no subject
Date: 9/15/25 02:40 (UTC)That doesn't make sense.
[He frowns, not angry, but frustrated. What's even more frustrating is that he understands, at least to some extent: that "nothing was created, just magnified" bit. He, too, was assigned a Spades suit, and he too can acknowledge that the nasty things he's said and done while his suit was active didn't just spawn from nowhere. That those thoughts and urges were already there, somewhere below the surface.
But still. Still!!]
Alright, let's put it this way! Forget about that suit business for a second. Do you remember when that mage girl attacked me? I told you about that, didn't I? As far as I know, she's still here, so that could always happen again. Last time it was "I'm mad you won't sleep with my cat," but next time it could be, "I'm mad you won't sleep with my hamster!" Suppose she did attack me, and I called you for help. If you didn't make it there in time, would it be your fault I got hurt?
[He waits approximately one second before saying, emphatically:]
Absolutely not! It would be her fault, and that's that! You would've had nothing to do with that hamster business, and you can't be everywhere at once, so there's no way anyone would blame you. If you acted like it was your fault, that would make me feel badly. After all, it's sad to see someone bow their head and wring their hands when they're not guilty of anything. I'd much rather see you being your overly cheeky, ultra-confident self. So!
[He takes a breath, finally, having said all that in a rush.]
Keep your chin up! Even if you can't right now, at least try, alright? It's what any friend of yours would want, including Esikko-kun.
no subject
Date: 9/16/25 01:03 (UTC)Hiyori has a Spade suit as well. He knows what it feels like to have the fucking thing leech at him and whisper those shitty comments. It's okay to let go, to break a rule, to encourage emotions, to ease up on restraint. How many times has the fucking thing suggested he indulge in the resort regardless of his loyalty to his boyfriend? How many times has he told him other people's feelings didn't matter, so be a nasty bastard? ... He's already thinking it.
What a fucking ridiculous overblown example.
Still hung up on that cat issue, isn't he.Shit part is, Bakugo's well aware of this. Hell, All Might himself admitted in pain how shameful is was heroes had limits. Even the greatest hero the world's ever known couldn't be everywhere at once, couldn't go day after day without rest or sustenance, couldn't solve all the world's problems by himself! He knows this as well as any fucking person with a working brain!... but-]
Don't fuck with me! It's not so damn simple! [He slams his hand shut, a harsh explosion consuming bottle and water entirely in a brilliant destructive burst. Smoke rises from his fist, eyes narrowed and teeth grit.] I know what you mean. Logically, you're right.
But what am I supposed to say when I get there? "My bad, I was too slow." Is that what you want to see on my face as you die? A hero doesn't have the luxury of trading a life for a fucking excuse! Someone died because I fucked up!
We know we can't be everywhere at once. [He opens his hand, looking at small crescents left in his palm.] Do you know what most heroes think when they hear about a crime or death? "If only I'd know. If only I could've been there. If only I was strong enough, fast enough-"
... I don't want "if only" to cost me someone's life.
[Stupid. Unrealistic. Insane. He's heard people describe heroes with those names. He agrees with them. Both heroes and villains are crazy in similar and different ways.]
If I had waited and taken more time to look, maybe we could've found a way to save him. But I rushed in. I thought I had all the answers and did the right thing. I didn't care enough about either of them to think it through. All I wanted was to win. [He turns his head and looks at Hiyori over his shoulder, red eyes boiling despite the serious expression on his face.] Esikko died because I made a mistake.
And you wanna tell me I'm not at fault.
no subject
Date: 9/18/25 04:11 (UTC)Never forgive, never forget!He's used to Bakugo's explosions at this point, but still grimaces at the harshness of this one: the whole bottle up in flames. It's only now dawning on him that Bakugo is just as broken up as he was a few days ago; that the things he said over text had no effect whatsoever. Of course he wasn't naive enough to think Bakugo could shrug off his guilt easily. But for him to still be saying Esikko died because of him, as though it's indisputable fact... it frustrates Hiyori, and it saddens him. It makes him feel helpless. And yet his own helplessness must be nothing compared to how Bakugo felt on that day.
He watches him with a face full of concern, not interrupting. He wants to butt in, but he doesn't have the right words. Is there anything he can do? He's not the right person to offer comfort.
But he's damn well going to try.]
You said he got blown up. And if so, that's what killed him. That person was the culprit, not you.
[Hiyori's voice is quiet, but grave. He wants to impress his words upon Bakugo, wants him to understand. But his shoulders sag and he sighs, knowing how hopeless an objective that is.]
Sorry. I know I said all those things about heroes and idols being similar, but I'm not heroic at all. My brother was always the responsible one. I just did what I wanted all day, without any sense of duty.
[He's selling himself a bit short here. But the overall point about not being able to understand a hero's perspective is true.]
But I do know what it's like to want to protect someone. It feels horrible when you can't, right? It makes you feel so utterly useless. That's how I feel about Jun-kun here, and it's how I felt about Nagisa-kun back home. But you know...
[He grips the side of the counter, his voice raising.]
Esikko-kun is alive again! You can see him, talk to him, tell him how you feel, and even save him next time he's in danger! It won't change what happened, but his life isn't gone. So!
[He slams a hand down.]
Don't give up on yourself! Alright?
no subject
Date: 9/18/25 19:10 (UTC)No. Hiyori's words over the text weren't worthless or meaningless. They're part of those stitches and patches keeping Bakugo together right now. Scott laid so much groundwork that day when he found him huddled in his wreckage. Hiyori's comments later built on those desperate bandages and sealants. Walking through the resort's possible again because of those people who came to him with such words. He ca move even while he's broken and repairing himself. But this kind of damage doesn't fix over in a night, in a week, a month... He'll bear these scars for however long his life in this fucking resort exists. Until the day he returns home. Guilt never dies.
Or has Hiyori not experienced the galling shame lying awake at night when something embarrassing or painful returns to him even from years ago. When his heart clenches in his chest or his stomach twists and his emotions seize.
He clenches his hand completely, crushing the bottle's remain inside as bits of blackened plastic stab into his palm and underside of his digits.]
I know.
[None of what Hiyori says is something he'll argue. Going about it logically, obvious statements obvious. Does he not think Bakugo's repeated all those things over and over in his mind? Trying to run his brain ragged on excuses he can't accept? He's thought about them so much, he wondered if was going insane trying to argue with himself. Bakugo's never been one to shirk his responsibility, hated the feeling of excusing himself or being indebted. The very notion of getting away from this entire horrible event "free" because he "wasn't himself" or he "didn't do something wrong" rips his stomach apart. Of course he knows the logic and reality! He didn't pull the trigger on the gun! He didn't fire the bullet!
...
But if he'd done more, been faster, been stronger, been better, thought harder, waited a moment more, anything other than what he did, the bullet would never had been fired. They could've worked something out, could've talked an agreement, could've noticed the trap, could've done anything other than what he'd done. Each "could've" each "should've" each "if" each "what if" each excuse layers across his mind like so many vines forming a twisted bramble of thorns slicing into each other and the gore beneath. Until they clench so tight everything erupts.]
Then you know this shit isn't something you can wipe away so easily.
[So many other people in the resort, Bakugo would never bare this side of himself. His loathing, his weakness, his guilt, uncertainty, downright refusal to surrender what's tearing him up inside. Others he would bark at how he was "fine" and how he's already accepted reality, how he's moving forward. Hiyori... is not one of those people. This raw scathing struggle lays out in front of him instead.]
I haven't given up. [Not his intention to move forward, not his intention to be a hero, not his intention to save people, and he certainly hasn't given up his bullheaded guilt regarding Esikko's death.] But I can't shake these fucking feelings either.
no subject
Date: 9/20/25 00:12 (UTC)It just isn't right, in his opinion. For someone other than the culprit—someone who tried to stop the culprit—to take this much blame. Even Hiyori could find ways to blame himself if he tried.]
... mm.
[He hums, finally, when Bakugo says he can't shake it. And then there's a pause. Should he share his own feelings? He decides to, on the off-off-chance it'll help put things into perspective.]
I can't feel things too clearly, but I can tell when he's being hurt, sometimes. I knew something was wrong, and I thought about calling someone. But he'd said he didn't want any new people getting involved. And I didn't know where he was, either.
[A pause.]
... though I thought I smelled gasoline.
[The last bit is added quietly. His eyes have gone dark. But he shakes his head, knowing the last thing Bakugo needs is for him to act miserable too, and continues.]
He didn't want you getting hurt. Suppose you'd taken the hit from that bomb—that wouldn't have been any better. And I would've hated that, too, just so you know.
[Though that's obviously not what Bakugo had in mind as an alternative. He wanted a happy ending, right? Not one where the hero sacrifices themselves, but one where they save the day in the end.
It's sad. Seeing those heroic ideals clash against the terrible reality of this place. Against other people's cruelty and the resort's indifference to it all. Its encouragement of it all. Bakugo may not have been the victim here, but as a friend, his heart aches for him.
He gets up from his seat.]
Baku-kun, can I hug you?
no subject
Date: 9/20/25 03:47 (UTC)Something Bakugo and Hiyori can never see eye to eye on. Just how the blonde finds it almost impossible to resonate with someone looking down on themselves and having no self-worth. It's incredulous to him. People often think the same of heroes and how they can blame themselves for shit they didn't even do...
Hiyori's coming at this with a horrible handicap. He doesn't know the details, doesn't know everything that happened. And Bakugo's wounds are too fresh to explain it. That plant bastard's actions, Esikko's struggles, what happened when the two fire starters arrived, what was done and said-
His stomach twists, proving himself right, and he shoves the bile in his throat down once more. No, he'll tell Hiyori at some point. Later. When he can think about it without wanting to rip himself apart. Without forcing the idol to watch his wounds open up all over again.]
Aa. We would've gotten involved anyways.
[When Esikko called. How else would they have reacted? Bakugo rests his fist against the wall beside him, glaring into the living room so recently put back together, mind sparking with a few instinctive urges to blow it all to pieces again. He curls his fingers hard into his fist, struggling with aggressive reactions. Hiyori's presence helps keep them at bay; he can't show up to Jun with his boyfriend blackened and bomb rushed.]
If I'd cared more about them, no one would've been hit.
[Is it true? He's not sure. But his actions were what caused the second trap to go off before any of them were ready. As if he tripped the fucking thing himself. If he'd waited, if he'd thought more, if he'd given a shit about anyone or anything other than himself and his own victory, perhaps things would've turned out different.
So many fucking "if's" swimming arou-
Bakugo blinks, sucker punched by Hiyori's question. Haa? What the hell? A hug? Who asks something like that out of nowhere? Instinct screams against his, his pride roils backwards in aversion, he hates it when people up and hug him like that! Even his own mom can't hug him without having the blonde wriggle and duck like a snarling vermin to get away.
Most of the time.] Che. If it'll make you feel better.
no subject
Date: 9/22/25 00:21 (UTC)Still.]
Don't say that.
[His voice is gentle, at least, more of a request than a stern command.]
I know you care, no matter how this place tries to twist us with those nasty "Spades" effects.
[Not that that's probably any comfort to Bakugo now. If anything, doesn't it hurt to care? During his suit flare, Bakugo sounded like he didn't care about Esikko at all. That must have made things a whole lot easier. It would be easier for Hiyori, too, if he didn't care. And yet this pain they're feeling now is part of what makes them still human. Part of what makes them themselves and not resort puppets like the career residents.
None of that would probably be comforting to hear, either. Hiyori has no good words to say, which is why he suggests a hug. He's talked about their benefits before: how feeling someone's warmth and listening to their heartbeat can soothe anxieties and make a person feel better. Like they're less alone in the world; like they're safe and cared for. He knows Bakugo's thoughts on hugs, though, and anticipates being rejected. That Bakugo doesn't reject him makes him blink. Even though he says it'd be for Hiyori's own benefit, it still speaks to the gravity of the situation. Most times, he'd probably say I'll blow you up if you try. But maybe it speaks to their closeness a little bit, too, that he doesn't say that now. Their closeness, and what a good heart Bakugo has deep down when that ugly Spades suit isn't twisting him.]
I think it might, so...
[He bends over, leans down. And then he wraps his arms around Bakugo's shoulders. Carefully at first, like he's handling a porcupine. But assuming Bakugo doesn't reject him, he'll secure them, leaning his upper body against Bakugo and closing his eyes. If this hero can carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, he can handle Hiyori's weight, right?]
no subject
Date: 9/23/25 03:03 (UTC)i know you care
Yeah, he cares now. He should've cared then too! He cared the previous morning, he cared the morning after, but for twenty-four fucking hours, he didn't give a damn shit! Any logical person would say "it wasn't me" and pass it off as not their responsibility. Yet his voice haunts his mind, his actions play back in his head, everything he said and did during that day feels as natural as everything he did the day before and the day after. It's impossible to get his head around, no matter how hard he tries. Can't run from it, can't swallow it. Stuck in his throat and chest.
Hiyori's trying to help him, reminding him of his own humanity. Of how he does care. Of who he is. It helps. In the same way digging a needle into your arm helps remind you you're alive. Because it fucking hurts. Of course it'd be easier if he didn't care! If he was a villain, he wouldn't have to be burdened by things like morals and feelings! Villains are strange creatures, always bitching about how they're put upon and chained up, when they're ironically freer than any hero could possibly be! Wouldn't it be easier to accept "caring" in a place like this means nothing?
Wouldn't it be absolutely disgusting if Hiyori knew somewhere in Bakugo's mind... buried deep in the darkness below his golden heart, where all those wretched things came from... he enjoyed it.
His wants to puke.
Arms slide around his shoulders, he tenses up instantly, pride and instinct flaring without hesitation. Yet he refuses to throw them away, fighting down the urge to break free of Hiyori's embrace. Focusing purely on his touch, warmth pressing on either side of his shoulders. Hands touching his chest and holding on. A warm heart beating on his chest, almost matching with the quickening pace of his own. Threatening to race wild, furious with his own sullied thoughts. Suddenly caught by twin emerald reins. Soft and gentle, not wrangling or wrestling. His pulse slows, heat burning at his waterline. Shit... Thoughts scream at him he doesn't deserve this. Words buck and remind him of what he's done, why Hiyori shouldn't be so comfortable touching him. But he does...
For all the weight Bakugo carries on his shoulders, for this fleeing moment, his head drops and hits the other boy's shoulder, spiky bangs scrunching against his body. Letting Hiyori carry his weight.]
no subject
Date: 9/24/25 03:09 (UTC)Toying with their bodies is one thing. It's inexcusable, but far less insidious than toying with hearts and minds. He's had his own feelings twisted and reshaped numerous times since he arrived here, by his Suit, by things like those cupid arrows, by a variety of other status effects so small that he didn't always recognize them. Sometimes when he did realize, he'd laugh it off or even enjoy the change, as he did when Bakugo got hit with the arrow that made him act friendlier. But even those innocent occurrences were part of the same ugly fabric. For as long as they reside here, their lives—their very beings—are nothing but toys. Nothing but fuel for some uncaring deity.
For this place to make Bakugo enjoy something like that... it goes beyond "toying." It's unforgivable. And he's already angry enough without knowing he felt that way. He's so angry that it threatens to blot out everything else, a shadow cast over the sun.
But he won't succumb to that anger. Not right now (though all bets are off about how angry he'll get next time his suit flares up). Giving into his anger won't help Bakugo. When a friend is hurting in front of him, that's what takes priority. He is an idol, after all. His role is to make people smile, not suffer. Something he lost sight of once back in his home world.
Bakugo is warm. Fitting for someone with such a fiery personality. Like this, Hiyori can feel how strong he is, his solid form. But he's the one trying to lend his strength this time. He knows Bakugo's not the type to accept comfort. He's a big, strong hero, right? He doesn't need it. And right now, he must not think he deserves it. Any moment, Hiyori could be pushed away.
Instead, Bakugo rests his head. Actually leaning on him for a change. In the midst of all this misery, that's something Hiyori feels glad for. Usually, it's the other way around: Bakugo helps him deal with things, giving him weapons and self-defense lessons, taking care of his doppelganger and driving away ghosts. But even heroes need to rest their head sometimes. It's good to see that happen. Good to be useful to someone for a change. He can't do much in this place, but he can at least do this.
His arms tighten around Bakugo's upper back. Bakugo can't see it, but he's smiling. Sadly, but it's a smile nonetheless.]
When we both feel up to it, we'll go and visit him. Alright?
no subject
Date: 9/25/25 01:40 (UTC)He's tired. As much has he prides himself on his grit and stamina, an unwilling spirit who refuses compromise or defeat... he's tired. He wants to go home, take those closest to him back to their worlds and ignore the rest. Tired of being here, of being made a damn fool. Sucks the peacock doesn't give a shit if someone's tired.
What he enjoyed that day, what he hates now, he doesn't want to put into words. Hiyori doesn't need those burdens while he's trying to comfort him. Already dealing with his own shadows and darkness. Bakugo's ready to let the topic drop for now. They have other things to focus on, someone else who needs more attention than him.
He's always given attention to someone's suit acting up if he knows it, willing to give a literal hand to stop the damn mark from progressing and consuming them into something they'll regret. Safe to say, he's even more wary about it now. If he comes across Hiyori dealing with his suit in flare, he's gonna fucking brain him before the idol has a chance to act further. Then figure out what to do from there... Hopefully he won't have to deal with it for a while.
Resting against Hiyori, it's easier to let things fall from his shoulders and hand, eyes closed as he surrenders to a damn reality he tries so often to ignore. A powerful Quirk, a strong body, a huge dream, an expected burden, for all his ambitions and life as a hero, right now... he's still just a boy. All Might said similar to him when Bakugo stood in the smoking street, shaking in sorrow and fury over what he'd done to his beloved idol. The same kind of comfort came, settling over his momentary weakness as he tried and failed to bite back the heat under his eyes.
Arms squeeze around his back and he curls his fingers into fists, brows furrowing despite himself. Dammit... He hates feeling this broken and weak. Especially in front of someone he always wanted to be strong for.]
... aa. [Yeah, they can go see him. Once they're ready.]
🎀 unless there's anything else you want them to discuss
Date: 9/28/25 20:36 (UTC)Someone has to be strong here. The stronger one between them is usually Bakugo, not just in body, but in spirit much of the time. If Bakugo is weak, however, then Hiyori will just have to step up and be strong. He'll put aside his own fears, and he'll try to watch over Bakugo and Esikko. Hopefully, things will be fine between them. And hopefully, Bakugo will see the truth: that it's those brothers, the House and the resort who are to blame. Not that that makes this any less frustrating...]
Good. Then it's settled.
[He'll bring flowers, he decides. But that's for later. For now, he holds onto Bakugo, hands patting lightly over his upper back. He'll maintain the hug as long as Bakugo wants and allows.]
🎀 good wrap for me! they'll discuss more later.
Date: 9/28/25 21:43 (UTC)Bakugo slowly opens his eyes, gazing half-unseeing at the wall far behind them. He hates feeling weak, hates feeling as if something's outside his control. But for now, for a short moment, he lets Hiyori carry those burdens. Don't expect him to do so for long. He'll take them back, shoulder his share, and move forward once more.
Of course he blames the house for everything, for bringing them here, for making any of this even possible. There are those who are more responsible than others in the shit going on around the resort, and he isn't letting them off either. But... he had his own hand in this drama and he has to accept that, address it, and make amends before he can see to his future beyond it.
Settled. Yeah, for now it's settled. Just... let him stay in this embrace for a little while longer until he feels ready to let go and stand on his own once more. It's what friends are for.]