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.]
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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.]