Nerve Breaker : Bakugo Katsuki x OC : My Hero Academia (Finished )

It Isn't Over

        The hefty metal doors shut behind a small figure. Anzu heard them crash together with a practical voice of finality, ushering in a time of deprivation. A time of solitude... a time of loss. It seemed as if the racing pace of her heart slowed down as the white lights faded on, a little too gradually. The metal cuffs around her hands, creating a bruised and agitated ring around her tired and constricted wrists. She stared back at the room she had once known. The screaming white walls and sheets. The non-existent light switch. A rueful smile crept it's way onto her lips, and she fought the desire to become giddy with the insanity of it all.

After she had said her goodbyes, the group was set into three vehicles. Aizawa and Katsuki were taken to the police station, whilst Anzu was taken into a temporary holding chamber. All three of them were questioned... all three of them told a completely different story. In the end, they were scheduled for a court case in a two week time frame, not that it would do much. Though several officers knew that Anzu's story was mostly false, they still decided to take her side, diagnosing Katsuki with Stockholm Syndrome, explaining why he had such a hard time 'coming to reality'.

Anzu looked at the bed, seeing it through blood shot eyes and desiring for it but knowing it would be of no use. Why toss and turn when there were other things to be done. So instead she showered off the dirt of the trip, the only enjoyment being the fact that the water wasn't frigid beyond all hell. Watched as the little crimson stains left by Katsuki were washed away, leaving nothing but scarred and barren skin. Her mind just continued to replay that one moment. That one moment when her mind decided that it was the only way to save him, the only way to stop this disaster. Tried to forget how much she missed him, how much something in her chest ached constantly. Constantly. Yet still she remembered... remembered how close they had gotten. Cried together... shed blood together. She began scratching at some of the grout on the white brick walls of the shower, picking off the little white pebbles to find nothing but white stone underneath. That was when she remembered something else. How much anger and hatred this place caused. The first few weeks when she had arrived, and how hot headed and frustrated she was over her past. If only I knew the half of it. Damn I wish I was here because I unwillingly killed my parents. I guess you don't know how bad you have it till you're there huh? She thought to herself, the steam clearing out her thoughts and she just stared at the white stone, feeling that burning feeling in her chest again and trying to push it down. Slowly it just rose, her anger over everything. The legal system, her past, her decisions. Why!? Why the fuck did I think this would fix everything. His last memory of he is me holding steel to his neck... I know it worked I just.... In the end I was hoping it wouldn't. I never got to say I was sorry... why? Why didn't I just spit it out... He told me not to have regrets but why do I hate this decision so damn much? Why... She held her fists so tight that her skin began to turn a redish-yellow color. An uncomfortable feeling formed in her throat, and she wanted it to go away so badly. The frustration, the silence. She hated that white stone so much. She never could understand why they had to paint it. Why they had to leave her with nothing. Her anger grew so hot she simply dug her first into the white stone, over and over again, wishing for something. Anything but white, but in the end the white was simply stained red, and her knuckled were ripped to shreds. She watched, her mind elsewhere as the blood leaked down into the drain of the shower, coating the floor and leaving a heavy red splotch on the shower walls. For some reason, the ability to change it left her satisfied for the moment, but she knew it was fleeting. She knew it would wash off eventually.

She then turned off the faucet and changed back into the white clothing they offered, a T-shirt and white pants. She never thought she'd miss the tattered and blood soaked hero costume she had been given. What a waste. She thought, brushing the excess water off and walking back out into the white clearing, seeing her table there, with several books littering the table. A thick layer of dust coated them and she understood that the whole room hadn't been touched since she left. Had they predicted this would happen? Seems they never really thought I could change. Wasn't a bad decision, I guess they were partly right. She thought, taking a rag out of the cupboard and washing off the dust littering all of her supplies. She could see the clock that read 4 pm. She hadn't realized it but she had been in that shower for practically two hours... and she remembered that had been a trend in the past. She continued to clean, her expression personifying the color grey.