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#when you can hardly afford you water bill and don't know what to do when the air conditioning breaks
willowser · 2 years
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i have this like one hc that pro-hero work involves a lot of traveling, especially in the beginning. they move here for six months and then there for four and then here for 14 and so on, just to get experience out in the field.
so it only makes sense you and bakugou end things, right at the start of his career.
and it's okay. it is. bc you both love each other and you know that, know that it's not ending bc of any huge, terrible fight that makes you enemies of one another. all the memories you'll carry can stay gold, not tarnished by anything other than the bittersweet distance.
getting used to it takes a little time, that's all; before he was your boyfriend, he was your friend, first and foremost. someone you had inside jokes with and had similar interests you could talk to about for hours, things that you only did with him and no one else. things only he knew. and not getting to tell him exciting news about college or ask if he saw the limited edition, golden age all might nendoroid they're releasing at the end of the year...sucks. it feels wrong, like these are things he's supposed to know, no matter what. things you're supposed to talk about.
you call him five months into his eight month nagoya contract and he doesn't answer. you think maybe he changed his number and didn't tell you, bc he doesn't actually have to anymore. bakugou has always been good about self control, keeping to himself, and it wouldn't surprise you if he's written you off without a second thought—bc this is how it's supposed to be when you break up with someone.
it's not until the next day that you get a text, late in the evening.
[9:26 PM] did you mean to call me
of course you did, but maybe you shouldn't have. hearing the line ring over and over again—it's cemented the realization that he's not thinking about you anymore. that he's moved on and you should too and he probably doesn't want to hear whatever if is you want to talk about. he'll probably just think you're weird. clingy.
yeah, but it's nothing important [9:32 PM]
he reads it immediately and—nothing happens. and you think that's it. hopefully you didn't come off too passive aggressive and now he thinks you're mad that he didn't answer. maybe you should have put an emoji, the little smiling one with the hands to show no biggie ! maybe you should have just said that, or that you couldn't remember the name of that hiking trail you did together two summers ago, but then you googled it and didn't need him anymore. or something.
he calls at 10:03.
your heart is in your throat when you pick up, beating like crazy bc you haven't heard his voice in a while. "uh, hello?"
and he hesitates too; his drawn out inhale doesn’t go unnoticed. "hey."
there's a brief period of silence on the line, some light shuffling on his end. sounds of cars passing, the rare honk of what traffic lingers this late at night. the wind scratches by, audible, and you shiver despite being in your own bed. you imagine him under a dim streetlight, fully outfitted.
bakugou huffs, "you called me?"
"yeah," you blink and sit up, though you don't know why. maybe because this needs your full attention, or because you don't want your voice to get muffled by your pillow. "i was just, uh—my roommate. she asked me if i've ever been to gekikara gourmet festival—"
"oh my god."
it's the exasperation in his voice that makes you laugh, so vivid, exactly as you remember it, and you can picture the face he must be making. "i know, i was like 'oh boy, have i'."
"d'you tell her you puked—"
"—with my head between my knees while sitting on that kiddie slide, yes i did."
he snorts, just the way he did as he patted the back of your head that night, awkwardly, standing beside you with a fist at his side. "told you not to try those fucking noodles."
you agree. "they were making even you sweat, i don't know what i was thinking."
it had been one of your first official dates, and you think all the spicy food didn't help with your restless nerves. it always felt stupid, looking back on it, to be so afraid; you'd known bakugou forever, and the only difference between that night and the many you'd spent before as friends was that he'd kissed your temple, lips red from spice and all. it was just bakugou, you thought. what was there to be anxious about?
and now the silence is making your stomach turn.
"yeah," you continue lamely, "nothing important, it just—made me think of you."
he doesn't say anything. if it weren't for the distant slam of something—a trash can lid or car door—you would think he hung up. he's always had a hard time with his words and you don't really even understand why he called instead of texting. if there was something he wanted to say to you, you aren't sure he could.
"so, i guess i'll let you—"
"y'got a roommate now?"
"uh, yeah." something ugly in your stomach wants there to be jealousy in his tone, and you shake your head to be rid of the thought. because it shouldn't matter. "she's in a couple of my classes. big fan of, like, kpop and stuff."
he snorts again and you can imagine the roll of his eyes, bright with amusement despite the frown on his lips. you love that look on him; so content that it felt out of his character, something he wanted to hide. being the cause of it has always been so sweet. "different apartment?"
"yeah, in a little dorm on campus." he didn't live with you long, just in the time between graduating and when his applications to agencies began returning acceptions. "couldn't afford that place by myself."
bakugou hums, and your eyes swim so suddenly that you have to take the phone away from your head. you wonder if he misses those days as much as you do. the simple life, doing the mundane together; washing clothes in the laundry room downstairs, having to clean the dishes by hand or the dishwasher would flood the tiny kitchen, taking quick showers together so that you'd both get hot water.
it was terrible. it was perfect. the kind of life you could never have, with dynamight.
his voice buzzes distantly and you sniff, wiping at your eyes with the sleeve of your sweater before putting the phone back up to your ear.
"what'd you say?"
"that—" he huffs, "nothin'." you sniff again, unthinking, and he goes completely silent again. no inhale, no exhale.
he's not stupid. he probably knew this would happen and that's why he didn't want to answer. it was hard enough for him to get the words out the first time ("just gonna be shit, for you to be waitin'. eraser told me not to—won't be able to keep any fucking—and i don't wanna be some jackass that just lets you down all the fuckin' time.")
"sorry," you laugh because you feel awkward, because you didn't mean to force what you've been suffocating on him all at once. "i don't know what just happened."
bakugou mumbles, "s'fine."
you think that even if there was something he wanted to say, he wouldn't know how.
"but yeah," you sigh and scrub a hand over your face again. "no biggie, just thought it was funny when she asked and wanted to tell you. it's actually kind of late and i need to head to bed, but i'll—" talk to him later, is what you want to say, but your stomach drops and you know that it's not that easy. not anymore.
maybe it will be one day in the future, but this is the life you have to live, for now. all you can do is hold onto that hope, as your throat tries to tighten again.
"fuck, i—" he breathes, so frustrated that it nearly becomes a grunt, "y'don't know how—just, goddammit, in three months i'll—"
"i know," you tell him, and you smile like he can see it. in three months, he'll come back, to accept another contract, and then he'll be gone again. if there was a way to make it work, bakugou would have found it. of all people, bakugou would have found it. "it's okay," you tell him.
and it is. it is.
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