TW: Indirectly talking about Ame's experience
Bakugo
I thought I knew what hate was when that dome came over the field only a few days ago. I thought I knew what it felt like to want to hurt– to feel so utterly helpless where you stand that the only thing left to feel is hate.
But I don't. Not until today.
Yin gave me the means to find her. I haven't told anyone that she's returned, not even Shoto. I can't risk what happens if the hero commission forces her to answer for Tenko's disappearance from prison. The only reason they haven't asked any of us to answer for the fact that he is still alive is that my children were almost killed by their inaction. That and they need heroes more than anything right now, even when all the public wants is to condemn us.
I raced home after meeting with her, back to the Todoroki's. Too many reporters were still stationed outside our house and with what came out the police were reluctant to help us.
When I finally get home, Rei is still up. She blinks at me when I come in the doorway, catching the relief on my face. She doesn't have to ask to know, but she does anyway, the gentlest of hope caught on the curve of her lips.
"Is she okay?"
I hug my mother-in-law with one arm.
"She's okay. She's coming back tonight. Don't tell anyone yet, we can't risk–"
"I know," she nods, but knowing her daughter is alright pulls so much dread from her that she can take a breath. She squeezes my arms and walks back into the living room, sitting in her customary chair by the window where she waits until every member of her household is safe and sound in her home. "Thank you, Katsuki."
I nod, admiring how she leans her head back and waits for her husband and children in the quiet.
I practically throw off my jacket to go and tell Yuki the news, but she beats me to it, slowly walking down the hall in bare feet.
"Yuki," I say, almost tripping as I make my way to her. She looks more tired than I do, but even as I say her name she doesn't look up. Her shirt is wet as if it was caught in the side spray of a showerhead. Her steps are slow, disconnected even.
"Yuki, I found mom," I tell her. "She's coming back, right now–"
I stop talking when I notice Yuki isn't reacting to anything I'm saying. Instead, she remains in her own thoughts, like she's caught by something that won't let go of her.
"What's wrong?" I ask and her breath stutters from her throat. "Yuki?"
When her eyes meet mine, she grabs my hand, and all of a sudden I feel as though I'm staring at a little girl crying because she pushed her brother in the yard and doesn't know where to go from here.
"Tell me what happened."
Ame
When I come to, I'm in my bed again. My shirt's off and the sheets are tucked over my body like somebody wanted to make sure I'm completely covered. It comes back to me quick– the bathroom, my panic attack, Yuki pulling my shirt off over my head, and the fight or flight response that followed.
I sit up in bed, covering my mouth. I'm still sweaty which means she didn't put me in the bath. She must've carried me back to bed.
Oh god.
I told her.
I didn't mean to, but I practically showed her with my actions. I know my sister. I felt her holding me in the stadium only a few days ago as I crawled away from Kaido in fear. I know she's smart enough to put it together too. I want to apologize to her, to tell her it was nothing, that I overreacted, but I remember her face in the bathroom as the shower rained behind her. The face I hoped I'd never see even when I came home four years ago and didn't talk for a week, washing myself in the shower till my skin was red, and throwing up my food every night.
