VII

I've had the same recurring dream nearly every night since I agreed to be Tenya's groomsman.
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It's my birthday. I can feel it in my bones.
 I open my eyes to a full head of messy hair, so green it's black.
 I reach out to touch it and grab tufts of hair I can't feel.
 I hear a voice speak to me and feel tingly inside,
but I can't determine what it's saying at first.

"Happy birthday, Kacchan!"

The voice is coming from the green hair.
 It's soft and optimistic against my eardrums,
like a lover's sweet whisper of 'Good morning.'
 The hair turns around, and it's Deku.
 He smiles at me with those gentle eyes and runs his fingers through my hair.
 For some reason, I feel that.
 Just like I can feel myself smiling back.

The scene changes, and we're back at U.A.

I'm in my school uniform, walking to class with shadowy figures,
but the sun's shining brightly at the end of the hall.
 A sludge villain devours me. I can hardly breathe.
 No one is coming to help me.
I can feel the cold loneliness of death by asphyxiation creeping around me.
 I shut my eyes to fight against the pain, but I am being overpowered.
 Afraid, my eyes fly open. They're wild and desperate for salvation.
 Another shadowy figure appears to stand in the center of the burning light—
 I squint to make out who or what, but my heart flutters regardless of not knowing.
 Deku steps through the light in his pro-hero costume.

My hero.

"Kacchan! I can't just stand there and watch you die!"

I am moving lightning-fast toward him, but I don't know how.
The villain is long gone.
 I look down and see my legs moving faster than my thoughts.
 I race into Deku's arms, but the figure dissolves in my grasp.

The dream flips pages until I'm standing in the rain, pouring out my heart in front of people.

To Deku.

We're both in our pro-hero costumes, and buildings are on fire.
 Deku looks miserable, breathing heavily, bruised, and bloody,
like he hasn't slept in weeks.

I see myself, hear myself talking to him as if I'm speaking to myself.
I motion towards him and fall on my knees.

"Deku!" My voice is so loud, so desperately hoarse, my throat hurts even in my sleep.
You stop. My heart quickens. I wonder if he stops at the sound of my voice or for some other reason.
"No, I mean, Izuku!" I told him so many times I'd do better with that. As the hooded hero starts pulling off his mask, the dream's flipbook flashes every bully incident…
"Izuku! I'm sorry!"
...every unnecessary screaming match and physical fight…
"I hate myself for everything!"
...every snide comment I've ever made right before my eyes.
"IZUKU, I LOVE YOU!" My confession is more begging than a pronouncement. The flipbook blacks out as his expression comes into view face.
"I know that now! Deku! Did you hear me?"

My eyes always open before I hear his response or discern his expression.

But right before I wake up from this recurring dream, I think I see him smiling.

.

.

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This dream consumes my entire flight back to Tokyo.

-8-

As I step off my chartered aircraft, the sun blinds me through my shades, but the weather is nice for early spring. April in Musutafu reminds me of my childhood—it's beautiful like a lamb, but just like the stubborn bull I am, it brings its hell to pay if you underestimate it. But anything is better than the rainy, mercurial New York weather I left.

"Dynamite! My man! You're looking too sexy for this jet! Welcome back to Japan!" Kaminari yells at the top of his lungs. I can see Kirishima pull up in a shiny red convertible Hellcat like a Tokyo drifter. 'Red Riot' is emblazoned across its side to resemble the hard edges his Quirk armors his body with. I roll my eyes and open the door.

"Keep it down, dumbass! No one but you guys know I'm back yet," I snap at Kaminari and shove a duffle bag in his face.

Denki's reflexes have improved because he catches it with no sweat and tosses it to the side. Looking around, irritatingly confused, he tells me, "But no one's here but us, Bakugo?" He slides from the top of the backseat into his seat.

"The staff, idiot! People talk, and I don't need them talking about me. Not right now."

"Alright. Enough of all that. Bakubro! It's good to see you in the flesh!" Ejiro daps me up, and we hug. "The city missed you, man."

"I missed the city."

I pop my leather jacket. The tight embrace from a loyal friend does something to my soul and nearly chokes me up. In all the years of my exile, Kirishima has never left my corner. My bro, even though I'm an only child. Even when I didn't deserve a sibling.

He looks at the backseat, his spiked hair pointing at my one bag. "What? That's all you brought across the world, man? I thought you were moving back?"

Kaminari's charge-bolt sizzles in the backseat. I'm already exhausted.

"DAMMIT, KIRI! I TOLD YOUR ASS THAT WAS A SECRET!"

"Oof...sorry, bro," he says, blocking a head smash from my exploding fist. I can see Denki's dumb ass out of my periphery looking like a giddy little girl. Ugh, I'm too jetlagged for this.

"Say sike~! No way! Bakugo is back for good?! My Bookugo is finally coming back home to me?!" Kaminari weeps.

I grab him by the cheeks and stretch them. "KNOCK IT OFF, MORON! No one can know that! Do you hear me?! I have a lot of things to handle before it's official. So, you better keep your mouth shut the entire wedding week-"

"Ow! That hurt, Bakugo!" He rubs his cheeks and scowls.

"DID YOU HEAR ME? OR I'LL-"

"Yeah, yeah. Kill me. I know," Kaminari yawns out the car's side. "But, I mean, c'mon! Ten whole days, which includes your birthday? How am I supposed to keep that big secret from everybody for that long?"

I pop my palm in his face, and it combusts. "Won't matter if you're dead, you dick!" Smoke clouds our field of vision. As my homies cough and we drive away, I slump back in the front seat and look at the open sky. The sun is setting as the cherry blossom petals scatter across the landscape. The drive to Musutafu is smooth in Kiri's new whip, and the evening breeze carries with it a familiar smell of Tsubaki oil and jizz blossoms.

It smells like home.

Tokyo was never supposed to be my hellish plane, but I made it so. And as much as it shouldn't, as much as I know better than to return after four years and act like nothing's changed, I'm glad it doesn't feel like a foreign land. I've had my fill of being a foreigner in a strange land.

"So, Bak! How's it feel? You're quiet over there."

"I'm chillin'."

"Yeah?" Kaminari follows up. "I bet you missed the sweet, jizzy aroma of the cum trees, huh?"

"You pervert!" But I can't help laughing at his crude joke. Kiri turns to a rock satellite radio station, and we headbang for fifteen minutes to a sick Grateful Dead and Jimi Hendrix mix. It's hard to explain the thrill and adrenaline coursing through my veins as I allow every care in the world to disappear as Friend of the Devil's intro blasts through the speakers. It feels like my Quirk is on fire; this is the only appropriate outlet at my disposal.

"This is Jiro's mix!" Kami shouts with pride.

"Aw, yeah?" Kiri yells back.

"Yeah! She worked on this set for hours a few weeks back! My girl knows her stuff!"

"Your girl?" I question, cocking my head in disgust. "Earphones actually gave your loser ass the time of day?"

"Hey! I'll have you know I am a rather suave lover, Bakubaby." He flips his phone screen towards me, and a picture of Jiro kissing Kami's grinning cheek accosts me.

"Ugh, yuck!"

"Hey!"

"Well, I, for one, am happy you two finally figured that limbo period out. It was rough on all of us."

"Speak for yourself! I knew nothing about this!" I bark.

"Yeah? Well, whose fault is that?" Kami bites back. "You left us and-"

"Hey, man! It's not like that!" Kiri comes to my defense.

"I don't need your help, Shitty Hair! I can defend myself." I rolled my head a couple of times. Being vulnerable really pisses me off. I turn to look my friend of ten years in the eyes. "Look, man. I'm sorry I've been M.I.A. as a friend. Life got hard as hell, and I just..."

"H-Hey, hey! Bakugo! It's cool, brother! I was just giving you shit! Don't cry!"

"I wasn't crying, you shithead! AND YOU COULD'VE CALLED ME, TOO! But good shit on bagging Jiro. She's dope as hell."

"Thanks, man. I'll be sure to force you to tell her yourself on the trip because she'll never believe me if it comes from me," he laughs. "She's maid of honor and deejaying everything, so you'll have to catch her at a good time, though."

Then that makes Jiro and I both.

Considering I have no idea how this joint-bachelor-bachelorette-trip-slash-Class 1-A's seven-year reunion will pan out, the nerves teeming to the brim since last August are currently spilling over. Just the thought of being with everyone again...near him after so long...I don't know which side of me's going to show up. Though my therapist told me to go into the next fourteen days in Japan with no expectations for anyone but myself, I can't help but hope.

Listen, I know I shouldn't feel this relieved, and dare I say excited, to breathe in the same air as Deku again.

But…

~Inhaaaaale~

"Ahhhh! IT FEELS SO GOOD TO BE BACK!" I howl into the wind.

I may not deserve it, but I'm glad to be alive. Knowing we're under the same clouds feels like I've made it to heaven.

Is it possible to feel someone's energy, even from afar?

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"Deku!"

"Yeh-yes, Kacchan?" He jumped out of his skin.

"I can smell you from a mile away! Your cologne is too strong, loser! You're spraying too much! Have some self-respect."

"Oh, no. Really? I was hit by a villain with a skunk Quirk this morning, and it won't wear off until tonight. I've taken five baths but can't get the stench off."

"Then, get the hell away from me until you stop smelling like ass!"

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I feel good about my decision for the first time since accepting Tenya's invitation. Excited as hell, actually.

"All right! It's time for your birthday rager to begin! Kami and I made some wicked plans to countdown to your big day! You down, Bakubro?" Kiri pumps the air, one hand still on the steering wheel.

"Hell, yeah, fucking right!" Denki lights up a joint. "It's about to be 4/20! And look what I got..." He singsongs, passing me the jay as Kirishima pulls the Hellcat's top back up. "Japanese Holly!" I exchange my dying phone for the joint and take a hit. The herb is woody, sage, and mildly sweet. But, most importantly, it's hittin'.

"Look, my AA Sponsor is a strict loser, so as long as it doesn't fuck with my sobriety, LET'S CAUSE HELL, BOYS!" I cheer, blowing out the Japanese Holly smoke.

"That is so manly of you, Bakugo!" Kirishima gushes, mashing the gas down the freeway.

a/n: Happy birthday, Bakugo Katsuki, my Taurus hellion! and thank you to my first reviewer! your comment made my week.

i hope you enjoyed reading and are down for the heroic adventure! so, if you like what you read, share it, hit that favorite and follow button, and even leave a review! i appreciate all the visitors and views, and i hope reading this was PLUS ULTRA!

(๑✧ ³✧) (▀U ▀-͠)

[I don't own the rights to MHA.]

the cozy writer

8.20 with Love