the day it stopped raining | midoriya izuku

16 | flooded blossoms

TOKYO
20°C
LIGHT RAIN

She lays in her bed, arms and legs wide open like a starfish as she stares at the white ceiling, an imagination of a blanket of clouds.

I can't keep living like this. She thinks as a sigh left her sorrowful lips.

It's been weeks since she was cooped up in her apartment, feeding off whatever there is in the fridge and...Midoriya dropping by almost every day bringing the spicy ramen she always loved. Despite that, she feels kind of bad considering that she brought this upon herself whereas the green head went out of his way to help her physically and mentally.

She lacked the memory of how many days she skipped her showers and meals. If Midoriya were to find out, then she'd probably get an earful. Besides, she received a text from him that evening that he would be late. Not that he should be obliged to come and hang out or...check up on her.

Masuyo feels a little embarrassed at the latter. She was starting to feel as if she's some patient that needs care from a therapist like Midoriya or her coping mechanisms: art commissions and convenience food. That's why she can't keep acting like some wretched girl who doesn't want to take care of herself.

Getting off her bed, she made her way to the bathroom, taking off her clothes before turning the tap on for a warm bath rather than a shower. Long soothing baths are a rare occasion for Masuyo, but today, she felt like pampering herself for once. As much as the girl self-deprecate herself a little too much some days, her skin was longing for cherry blossomed waters.

She steps into the bathtub, the crisp air lingering on her skin vanishing at the contact of warm foamy water. Tiny bubbles surround her and she mindlessly starts playing with them by scooping them up with her hand and blows it into the oblivion.

It was as if she's in some cosmic space as she laid in the small body of water, staring at her hands, staring at the thick layer of foams, staring at the cream-coloured tiles, dipping her face into the water that smells like cherry blossoms.

Have I been to an aquarium before?

Masuyo blinks at the random thought before chuckling softly to herself. But at some point, the small smile on her lips quickly disappears when she listens to the empty silence in the room.

Her memory was fuzzy and faded when she tries to remember if she did been to one. Perhaps it was when she was a kid in kindergarten. She remembers seeing dark blue ceilings and some fishes, but she didn't know whether it was with her own eyes or an old photo taken on film where she saw one in an old family album back home.

When she was young, she thought she'd remember everything, but she didn't know that growing up means forgetting the worst things in her childhood and teenage years. Worse, she keeps forgetting the little things even if she was reminded seconds ago.

And it sucks knowing that. Because she only has herself to remind that no one will let her know that she'll never be saved.

_________

"Masu-chan?"

She jolts awake at the distant sound of their voice—his voice. Oh god. Did she actually fell asleep in the bath? She's going to have wrinkles all over her body.

"Masu-cha—"

The voice stops and Masuyo can't help but turn her head towards the door.

Oh.