Welcome mortal

Bakugo wakes up in the hospital after everything. Now the fight response isn’t activated, he can focus on you. But you’re not in the room. Shit, you must’ve been hurt more than he thought.

Mitsuki gasps as he wakes up. So his parents are here.

“Hag,” he gets out, “which room is Y/N in?” He moves to sit up despite the way his father pleads for him not to yet. Bakugo doesn’t give a shit. He’ll crawl to your room by his fingertips if he has to.

“Katsuki,” his mother begins. Bakugo stares at her and that’s when Mitsuki breaks, crying for you. Crying for the girl she’d always assumed to be her daughter in law one day.

Something cold runs through Bakugo. “Where’s Y/N? Is it bad? Is… is she in a coma?”

Masaru puts his hand on Bakugo’s shoulder. “They tried everything they could. She was gone almost immediately. You nearly went with her.” Nearly. Bakugo had stayed. You’d left. That didn’t make sense. You two never went anywhere without each other. Why would he stay?

The heart monitor starts beeping at an alarming rate as he starts to work out what happened. Shigaraki had lunged for him. You’d moved in seconds after he’d been hit, exposing yourself too.

“No,” he says. “No. Fucking funny joke.” He looks at Mitsuki. “Hag, where is she? Hag. Mom.”

Mitsuki shakes her head. “She didn’t make it, Katsuki. Like Masaru said, they tried everything.”

No. No, they didn’t. If he’d come back, why couldn’t you? You wanted to be a hero too. You had plans - the two of you had plans. You were already thinking of your future together, and charted a rota for who’d be doing hero work on each day of the week after you two had children.

“No!” Bakugo yells despite the pain it causes. “No. She’s got you two in on it. She’s gonna walk through the door in a minute, and prove you two wrong. She’s… She’s gonna… She’s…”

His mother never cries for anyone outside the family. She’d accepted you as her daughter years ago. Now Mitsuki is sobbing, wrapping her arms around him.

“I’m sorry, baby. She tried so hard. But you held her. She wasn’t scared because she had you.” She doesn’t know that. Who’s to say you weren’t terrified out of your mind? Or even worse: you felt safe until Bakugo was brought back and ripped away from you. Now you’re somewhere he can’t follow you.

Bakugo’s body feels numb as his parents try to comfort him. He can hear his heartbeat. A heart that shouldn’t be beating. It should be yours that he can hear. His mind flashes to the times you snuck into each other’s dorms, times so often that Aizawa had to have known and just given up on separating you, and the way you’d hold each other if you had nightmares. He can hear your heartbeat even now. It’s clearer to him than his own.

Only now it’s stopped forever.

Izuku wonders if Bakugo did stay dead in a way. At least, a small part of him died when you did. To the onlooker’s eye, he’s still the same, but Izuku grew up with the two of you. He knows that you two had that epic love only reserved for stories.

It’s only a story now anyway.

It’s been eight years since you left. He and Bakugo visit each anniversary of your death day, but he knows Bakugo goes most days. After a tiring patrol when he needs someone to talk to, and on a weekend he has free, or just whenever he thinks you need him. His parents visit you too. Mitsuki called Izuku asking for help after she found Bakugo sat in the rain at your grave, unwilling to move. Because even though he hated the rain, you always made him dance with you in it.

Everyone from 1A is starting to settle down now. At each wedding, there’s an empty seat for you. Bakugo always sits next to it, a wedding band on his finger. He was going to ask you anyway. Izuku wouldn’t be surprised if you two had the ceremony planned out already.

Bakugo won’t move on, and Izuku knows it. His only love is his hero work, because you wouldn’t want him to wallow in pity for you.

Izuku does he think he sees you in the same way he sees Shigaraki. You’re always at Bakugo’s side. A ghost on the edge of things, not quite tangible and more like a distant daydream of summer and warmth and all things wonderful. But then, as all wonderful things must do, you’re gone again.