Chapter Forty-Six: Unwound
Aisla was having a bad week. She kept sleeping through her alarms and showing up to class late—earning the disapproval of her favorite pro hero. She dressed in a hurry that day, barely remembering to slip on some tights under her uniform skirt so as not to accidentally give her fellow classmates a show—she'd made that mistake just the other day. At least she'd managed to tie her hair back this time, even if all she did was wind a simple ribbon in the back to keep it out of her eyes. She felt like she could think better without her hair falling onto her paper. Not that it had made much of a difference these last few weeks, but she knew she needed to get back into the habit of at least pretending she still cared about her appearance.
She made it to class just as Mr. Aizawa began speaking. She knew he was usually late and had kind of banked on that today, but to her disappointment he was already pacing in front of the class, and shot her an annoyed glower when she stumbled ungracefully through the door.
"Miss Haru, how nice of you to join us," he said pointedly, eyes narrowing in irritation for the interruption. "Please, have a seat."
She apologized and quickly sat down before pulling out her paper and pen, ready to take notes. She did just that while her teacher began talking about their final projects, and warned them that they'd be placed into teams of three instead of pairs this time. This being her first year, Aisla didn't have anything to compare it to, so it didn't really matter to her. So long as she wasn't on Mineta's team. That boy just really got under her skin.
When Mr. Aizawa started to go off topic a little bit—complaining about some past students he'd had that always made final projects a total disappointment—Aisla let the pen rest on her paper for a moment while she rifled through her desk for a pencil and eraser so she could doodle in the corner of her notes. However, instead of pinching a small pencil between her fingers, she found her hand wrapped around something lumpy and round, fitting in the palm of her hand. She couldn't remember putting anything else in her desk, so she pulled out the foreign item to inspect it.
It was…a bright red apple. Where had it come from? Her first thought was that Mr. Aizawa wanted to pay her back for offering him one, but when she glanced up and raised her brows at him curiously, he shook his head and continued talking like he had no idea what she was asking him.
She played with the fruit for a moment while Mr. Aizawa spoke to the class, wondering who would put such a strange item in her desk without her knowledge. Suddenly, from the corner of her eye, she saw her teacher give a very subtle nod. When she looked back up to catch his eye, he had his back turned to her and was writing on the board. Had she seen that right? Was he trying to silently convey to her that he wanted her to eat the apple? It would be weird to eat this in class while her teacher was up there talking, right? Besides, food wasn't allowed in class, but…
She recalled him asking her to stay behind and eat in the classroom the other day, and how insistent he had been that she eat while he stared her down like her dad used to do when she was little and didn't like to eat her broccoli. Was that what the nod was about? He'd given her the apple because he knew she would be late and skip breakfast?
Well, if it's that important to him, I guess I'll just suck it up and eat the thing.
With that resolve, she took a small, tentative bite. She liked apples, but this one seemed particularly sweet and juicy. She appreciated the flavor, different from the ones she usually ate, as if this one was hand selected just for her. It must have been a different type of apple from the ones served in the cafeteria. She took another bite and chewed thoughtfully, sighing in exasperation when some of the juice dripped from her lips onto the notebook with a silent plop. Instantly, the pea sized spot expanded, creating an amorphous shape at the bottom of her page.
"Miss Haru," Mr. Aizawa said sharply, calling her attention back up to the front of the class. "How many times do I have to tell you not to eat in my class?" Her eyes widened in both shock and bewilderment at the intense look in his dark eyes. "While I'm pleased to see you actually eating for once, I don't want you doing it during class period."
She placed the apple down carefully on the edge of her desk and couldn't stop herself from sinking a little bit into her seat. "S-sorry, sir! I just thought you—"
"That pocky incident last time was bad enough," he grouched, reminding her of the time she'd been caught passing out pocky sticks to all her friends a few months ago. "Stop bringing food to my class or you can enjoy it in detention this afternoon."
She sank even lower in her chair, feeling like a scolded child even more now. "Yes, sir…" she said in a small voice.
Mr. Aizawa continued his lecture, explaining the students that would be teamed up for the final project. Aisla was absentmindedly scribbling a cat's face on the bottom corner of her paper when she heard her name spoken loudly.
"Haru, Todoroki, and…Bakugo." If she didn't know any better, she would swear there was guilt in her teacher's tone as he delivered this bad news.
Aisla's eyes shot open in disbelief, but Mr. Aizawa kept on calling out teams without even glancing in her direction. Didn't he know that she and Bakugo couldn't be in the same room together, much less work on the same team? He was punishing her for crunching a pocky stick under her shoe four months ago. She knew he wasn't going to let that one go!
When he turned his back to them to scribble on the board, Aisla spun around in her seat to shoot Bakugo a glare.
This all because of you…
His expression contorted. "It wasn't me," he mouthed, but she turned back around and ignored him for the rest of class as annoyance bubbled inside of her. She wanted to stride right up to the front of the room and demand to be in another group—any other group. She'd even take perverted Mineta at this rate. At least he didn't stomp on her heart every time they were in the same vicinity as one another.
When the dreadful class finally dismissed for lunch, Aisla was the first one out of the room, practically tripping in her haste to get away. She clutched her bag tightly to her chest as she hurried through the hallway, no real destination in mind other than to get away.
"Aisla! Wait!" Someone called after her, but she didn't stop to see who it was. She was starting to get that panicked, trapped feeling inside of her and desperately needed some fresh air to help calm her nerves.
She ran, dodging students and teachers until it led her to a staircase. She didn't even know where she was going, she just let her feet carry her upward, down a hall, upward again. She didn't stop running until the cool morning breeze blasted her in the face. She dropped her bag on the ground, hands dropping onto her thighs as she tried to catch her breath. She sucked the crisp air into her lungs and tried to clear the anxiety from her mind. Her legs trembled, then buckled underneath her, forcing her onto her knees on the hard ground. She ignored the sting of the impact and focused on steadying her breathing.
I can't deal with this… I can't be around him… it hurts too much…
Tears pricked at her eyes but didn't fall as she knelt there, arms wrapped protectively around herself. She rocked back and forth, taking deep breaths that came out in shaky gasps.
"There you are." Strong arms wrapped around her and pulled her into a tight embrace. "You're okay, Aisla. It's going to be okay."
"I can't work with him," she choked out. "You know I can't."
"You can, Aisla," he told her, stroking her hair as he continued to hold her against him. "I promise you'll be fine. I know you can do this. And I'll be there the whole time, remember?"
"What if I can't handle it, Shoto?" she murmured into his chest. "What if I break down right in front of him? I can't let him see me like that, not after everything that's happened."
"You'll be fine, Aisla," he repeated softly. "You're stronger than you give yourself credit for."
"I'm not…" she breathed. "That's why I ran away; that's why I'm hiding on the roof like a coward!"
"Shh," he hushed her gently. "You are not a coward. You're strong and brave. It's just a group project, Aisla. It's for school. Try to think of it that way, okay?"
"It's for school," she echoed numbly.
"You can do this," he encouraged her. "Don't be so hard on yourself. It's okay to take some time to cry. If that's what you need to do, then do it. No one will fault you for that. Sometimes, we all have to step away for a few minutes and break down a little. No one is okay all the time. Not even me."
She leaned back to look at him and saw sincerity and empathy in his dual-colored eyes. She nodded. "I'm sorry, Roki," she said, feeling guilty again. "I told you I wasn't going to do this."
He gave her a look. "I already told you, Ru, don't ever be afraid to talk to me. There's nothing wrong with talking to your best friend, right?"
She smiled. "Yeah, you're right." She squeezed his hand. "What about you, though?"
Surprise lit his eyes. "What about me?"
Aisla didn't want the attention on her anymore. She felt pitiful and guilty as it was, so she desperately changed subjects, banking on him being a little too socially unaware to catch on. "How's it going with Akina?" she asked, curiously. "I haven't seen her around here since…you know…" My embarrassing visit to the clinic the other day…
His lips formed a pleased smile. If he detected her diversionary tactic, he chose not to challenge it. "It's going really well. We haven't hung out recently, but we text a lot, and sometimes we talk on the phone."
"That's so cute." Aisla giggled, already feeling better now that the conversation wasn't on her and her failures. "You should go see her this weekend."
Shoto's cheeks flushed. "Oh, I don't know…"
"You can, you know," she insisted. "I'll be okay here."
"You were just crying…" he pointed out with a soft smile.
She shrugged. "Like you said, sometimes it's okay to cry and break down. It doesn't mean I'm going to die without you for one day."
He looked skeptical. "I don't know. I'd feel really guilty leaving you like that. You're still fragile."
She gave him an encouraging smile. "I'd feel better if you took some time to hangout with your girlfriend."
He blushed brighter at her words. "I don't think she's that just yet…"
"So make it like that," Aisla suggested with an eye roll. "Don't hold back on your own happiness just because of me and my stupid feelings. That's not fair to you. I know it's my fault you can't open yourself up to her all the way. You think you need to be by my side all the time, and I'm sorry for being so selfish and needy."
"Sure, but…" Shoto trailed off before rolling tension from his shoulders. "I'm worried about you. To me, you seem so delicate right now. Seeing you like this reminds me of…my mom. It's not the same and it's not as serious, but…I don't think you should be left alone."
Until then, Aisla had no idea that Shoto's sense of responsibility came from more than just his devotion as her best friend. Both guilt and admiration expanded in her chest, threatening to make her cry. "I want you to live your own life, Shoto. I won't hold it against you if you want to spend time with other people. It's okay to have other friends, other relationships. Don't feel guilty about that. And don't worry about me."
"...Do you really think you'd be okay?" he asked without looking her in the eyes. "I can leave my cell on, just in case."
She gave his hand another pulse. "I promise you that I'll be just fine."
Despite her bold words, as they made their way back into the building, Aisla desperately tried to quell the anxiety that started to creep back inside of her. Now, she had to talk to him. For the rest of the school day, Aisla would be stuck sharing desks with the person she'd been wanting to avoid as much as possible. She hoped Shoto had been right about her being strong and capable, because from where she was standing, she was pretty sure she would combust the moment she saw his face.
"I'm sorry…" he'd whispered two days ago after he'd knocked her down in the hallway. The collision had hurt, but before the pain had really hit her, Bakugo was pulling her up, arm wrapped around her body in a familiar way. His fingers had lingered for so long on her hip that her heart started to panic, and she had to step away. She couldn't allow herself to feel the things she used to for that boy, not when it was over between them. He'd hurt her more than he ever had before, and Aisla wasn't sure when—or if—she could forgive him.
Don't touch me again, she silently pleaded as she walked into the classroom with Shoto.
A few of their classmates had already moved desks around so they could talk quietly with their groups. Aisla scanned the room for a moment and found Bakugo sitting alone at his desk, chin resting in his palm, and a scowl set on his lips as if he'd just heard something unpleasant.
Aisla strode over to him with her head held high, so she could pretend that she wasn't falling apart inside. His head shot up at her approach and a faint blush colored his cheeks. Aisla bit her lip and looked away before she lost all ability to do this.
"Let's just get this over with," she muttered noncommittally.
They dragged two more desks over and positioned them so they formed a triangle with a space in the center. Aisla took out her notebook and some pens, then waited expectantly for someone else to start their 'meeting' or whatever.
After an awkward moment of silence, Shoto cleared his throat. "Um… I guess we should decide on when we're all free to get together?" he suggested.
"I can do whenever," Bakugo mumbled under his breath. He was back to his original position: chin resting in his palm as he stared out the window to their left, as if he, too, wanted nothing more than to get away.
"I'm available every day except for Saturdays," Shoto offered, then frowned. "Actually, make that Saturday and Wednesday."
Aisla wondered what he had to be so busy with on Wednesdays, but didn't really feel like bringing it up in front of Bakugo.
Both boys looked over at her when she stayed silent. Her eyes flicked between them for a moment before focusing on the paper in front of her. "I'm busy in the evenings after dinner," she said softly.
"You are?" Bakugo asked curiously.
She shot him a look and he turned away from her once more, flinching slightly. The action made her feel a little guilty, but not enough to take back the expression. It wasn't as if Bakugo hadn't given her plenty of glares in the past.
He cleared his throat. "I mean…I guess we can get together at lunch time then? Or after your, um…thing?"
"We can meet after," Aisla said curtly. "And Sundays. So, what are we doing?"
"I think we're discussing the final project?" Bakugo's tone was bemused with an obvious attempt not to snap at her.
Aisla sighed, but Shoto came to her defense before she had to speak. "I think she's asking what project we'll be working on. It has to be one we agree on. What do you think, Bakugo?"
Shoto slid the sheet of approved options over to Bakugo's desk.
"Hmm." he frowned as he scanned it over intently.
Aisla wasn't ready to be in a group with Bakugo, but she had to admit that having someone like him on their team definitely gave them the advantage. He was smart and resourceful, and he always had a plan. She'd seen him do training exercises many times before and he always knew what to do. Nothing seemed to surprise him. With him helping them, they were all sure to get a high grade.
"They're all similar," he mused. "This one focuses more on rescue," he pointed to the first one on the list, then moved his finger down as he went on. Aisla only heard the first part of what he was saying, though. Her mind was suddenly fixated on something else—the shiny onyx ring around his right index finger, the one currently shifting around on the paper.
He hasn't taken it off, she realized, wondering how she'd never noticed until that moment. His finger drifted down the sheet, lips moving with silent words that were drowned out by the sudden pounding in her ears. Why hadn't she noticed before? She'd given him the ring for Christmas a few months ago and knew he wore it all the time, but assumed he'd gotten rid of it when they broke up.
Aisla glanced up slowly and met the waiting red gaze there. His eyes were knowing, like he'd been inside her head just then and read her thoughts. Or maybe…
He twisted the ring, forcing her gaze to flick down to see the familiar action before she remembered to look away. He wasn't going to get to her just by wearing a ring. While it pleased her that he accepted the gift so willingly and still wore it to this day, she wasn't going to let that cloud her judgment. Bakugo was her past. Whatever relationship they'd had would never be the same again. At this point, all she wanted was to get this project over with so she could move on with her life.
Summer vacation couldn't come soon enough.
That night was their first official group meeting. Aisla had just gotten back from her training session with Hitoshi and Mr. Aizawa, when Mina barreled into her, arms wrapping around her in a tight embrace.
"My poor darling!" she cried. A second later, Ochako and Hagakure threw their arms around her, too. Aisla was being suffocated on all sides and struggled to breathe in the group hug.
"We feel so bad for you!" Hagakure exclaimed.
"We would have gladly switched with you if Mr. Aizawa wasn't so scary!" Ochako explained with a shudder.
"Can't…breathe…" Aisla gasped out.
The girls let her go, but kept a hand on her as if afraid she might crumple right before their eyes.
"I can't believe Mr. Aizawa would do that to you!" Mina squealed.
"Me either," Hagakure agreed. "I always thought you were his favorite, but he must actually hate you or something."
Aisla sagged a little bit.
"Oh, come on, it can't be that," Ochako disagreed softly. "Did you see his face when he read out the names? He looked so guilty!"
"I don't know if he put us together on purpose or not," Aisla said, "but there's nothing I can do about it now."
"Want us to tell that jerk that you're too sick to study?" Hagakure offered fiercely.
"No," Aisla resigned. "I'll just grin and bear it."
"You're so strong, Aisla!" Mina wept dramatically, hugging her once more.
"He doesn't deserve your time!" Hagakure said just as theatrically.
"It won't be that bad," Aisla said, though she wasn't sure if she was trying to convince the girls or herself.
"What won't be bad?"
They all turned toward the scowling blond in the doorway, arms crossed over a fitted black t-shirt, hair damp from a recent shower, and gray shorts that hit just above his knees. It took Aisla way too long to notice that she'd been staring before Hagakure's shrill voice snapped her back to reality.
"We're not letting you have her!" Hagakure latched onto Aisla alongside Mina.
"Yeah!" Mina agreed. "Go bully some other poor girl! This one's ours!"
Aisla felt her cheeks get warm and struggled not to lift her gaze to see whatever expression he wore. Did their comments embarrass him, too?
Nah, she decided a moment later. Any second now, he was going to make one of his signature mean remarks and storm out of the room.
"Well…can I borrow her for an hour?" he asked. He didn't shout for once, but his tone said he was trying very hard not to. He must have taken so long to respond because he was pushing down his anger before speaking. That was new. Normally, Bakugo didn't think about what he said, he just let the words go and regretted them later. This time, he'd made an effort to watch not only what he said, but how he said it, too.
They all stared at him in disbelief for so long his cheeks turned bright red and his fists clenched. "WHAT ARE YOU ALL LOOKING AT?!" he shouted.
There was the Bakugo they all knew.
Mina made a scoffing sound and rolled her eyes as she gave Aisla one last, sympathetic embrace. "You poor darling," she said again. "If you need Mama-Bear Mina, you just shout, okay? Come on, ladies! Let's go watch this disaster from the kitchen!"
Aisla let out an embarrassed sigh and only barely heard the soft chuckle from her left. At first, she thought maybe she'd mistaken it for another sound, like a scoff or a cough, but no… Peering over to where the blond boy stood, hands now hanging lazily in shorts pockets, the barest hint of a smile curling his lips, she knew she'd heard correctly.
"Ready to start?" Shoto strode up to them, a friendly smile in place as he came to stand beside Aisla. "We can work down here in the common area, or maybe the kitchen—"
"NO!" Aisla and Bakugo said in unison. She glanced over at him and got what she thought was supposed to be a smile on his lips. It looked more like a grimace but without the bite to make it work.
Shoto looked between them, expression bemused. "Uh…okay. Not the kitchen. Is the table fine, then?"
They sat around the rarely used dining table and fell into an awkward silence that lasted for an eternity. Aisla fidgeted in her seat, toyed with the ends of her hair, picked lint off her shirt. She pulled her legs up into the chair, then let them hang lazily down, then pulled them up again. She started humming, then realized the sound came out more as a growl and stopped.
She glanced over at Shoto from the corner of her eye and saw him perfectly composed by her side, seemingly unaffected by this situation whatsoever. But then she caught sight of his hands wringing the bottom of his shirt impatiently and decided that maybe he was going just as crazy as she was.
Bakugo sat with his head in his palm again, tapping his fingers against his chin in agitation. The toes of his slippers kept tapping angrily, and his eyes seemed to narrow further with each passing minute until Aisla was certain they would disappear into his skull. She was just waiting for the moment he would finally blow a fuse and go off on them for being too quiet, only to yell at them again when they spoke.
Remarkably, however, it was Shoto who finally broke the infinite silence. "I say we start by deciding roles for everyone," he suggested.
"Roles?" Aisla repeated dumbly.
Shoto turned an amused smile her way. "For our project, Ru. The one we decided on this afternoon?" He paused and waited for the confused look to leave her face. "Um… the one you were present for?"
"SHE WAS OBVIOUSLY SPACING OUT!" Bakugo snapped, making Aisla give a start of surprise at the sudden noise. Bakugo deflated all at once, sagging into his chair like a balloon that lost all of its air. "I mean…let's just go over the project one more time. I…uh, forgot it."
He turned his face away, but Aisla could still make out the slight coloring of his cheeks, which seemed to be happening to him a lot lately. That, along with his sudden rollercoaster attitude, like he couldn't decide if he wanted to be mean or meek.
"That's a good idea," Shoto agreed with a nod. "Aisla?" He held out a hand expectantly. He frowned when she just stared at it wordlessly. "Um, you were supposed to be taking notes, I think?"
Aisla flushed. Oh god, how badly was I spacing out earlier?! I don't remember anything that happened! One minute I was noticing Bakugo's ring, and the next minute class was over. Did I seriously leave my head for that long?!
"You know what, we should probably start fresh with a new notebook tomorrow," Shoto decided. "Since um…"
"Cuz Aisla doodles in all her notebooks!" Bakugo accused.
Aisla pouted.
Shoto gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Don't worry, Aisla. Everyone thinks your doodles are cute. But maybe it would be better to work with a clean notebook so that there's more room to write. Plus, we don't want to ruin your art. Sound good?"
Aisla wasn't sulking about Bakugo's comment, she was sulking because she knew what they were doing—what both of them were doing. They were trying to make her feel better because she'd totally spaced out for half of a class period and they didn't want her to be depressed about it.
"Fine," she agreed shortly.
"Let's start tomorrow, okay?" Shoto offered another encouraging smile. "One more day won't hurt us. Right, Bakugo?" This time, his tone had an obvious edge to it, but Aisla was too distracted with self-pity to think much about it.
"I SAID THAT'S FINE!" he snapped, then groaned a moment later. "Whatever you want," he mumbled. "I don't care."
Aisla stood to leave when Bakugo suddenly slammed a hand down onto the tabletop. She jumped and let out a faint squeak. He wasn't looking at her again, but his hand trembled where it sat clenched in the center of the table.
"I…found this…" he said, so low she could barely hear it. "It's…yours, isn't it?" He released the tight fist and a black ribbon unraveled on the table in front of her. "I saw you wearing it…" And then he left the room in a rush, leaving a wide-eyed Aisla and a frowning Shoto by her side.
"That was…weird," he commented a moment later.
Aisla ignored that as she patted the back of her hair to see if her ribbon was still there—maybe he'd come across someone else's black ribbon. Sure enough, her hair had lost its satin accessory sometime during the day. How long had Bakugo been carrying that around, trying to find the right time to give it back to her?
She pulled the ribbon into her hand and felt its silky texture with her thumb, wondering if this really was hers or just an identical one he'd found lying around. She turned the ribbon over and had to stifle a gasp. A silver 'A' was inscribed on one of the tails.
"I thought it would look good on you…I hope you like it…"
"Huh, I guess it is yours," Shoto observed, pointing to the silver letter. "I wonder where it was. I didn't even notice you'd lost it."
Aisla just kept staring at the satin ribbon in her hand, trying to decide how she felt about it. She hadn't made the conscious effort to wear this one today. She'd plucked the first ribbon her fingers found in her drawer and hastily wound it into her hair without really looking at it. She did have other black ribbons, so distinguishing them was difficult when she was in a rush. The only one in her collection that differed from the rest was this one with the cursive 'A' that she'd been given as a gift. A gift…from him.
"Aisla? Are you okay?"
She shook her head, crumpled the ribbon in a fist, and took a deep, steadying breath.
It doesn't mean anything, she told herself. This…means…nothing…
A/N: Apologies for this being a little later in the day than usual! I got a second job, and wasn't able to post it on time since I still hadn't responded to reviews!
MeMyselfAndI82907: Kirishima IS best boy haha. I love the idea of him being the best wingman, even though Katsuki doesn't deserve it. But him going to Kirishima of his own free will and asking for help is a sign that he trusts his friend completely. Katsuki isn't the type to open up and trust easily, but he's good friends with Kirishima. But yes, I do have everything already written out for this entire arc and more! So, don't you worry buddy! It will either work out or it won't. Fate has already spoken XD
The New Aged Hippie: I do like that song, but I've never thought about it for this story. I'll have to listen to it again! It's been a little while since I've heard it.
Kibaschick: Omg it's perfectly alright! I do enjoy seeing your name in the reviews, though! Thank you for taking the time to say something! I'm happy to hear you've been keeping up with them all, though! I hope you continue to enjoy the story!
xNetherlingx: (Chapter 1): Welcome to the story! I'm so glad to hear that you're enjoying it so far! Thank you for leaving a review! I liked the fair chapter, too. It was really fun to write!