Voices




Bakugo's Pov.

We had eaten a while ago and now it was Kirishima's turn to get some sleep. Idiot's been taking too much care for me he was practically ready to fall over when he had gotten back. I would leave as to not be a burden, which I really want to do, but he's already made it known that he doesn't want me to go. Either way he's been doing too much for me and I haven't done shit. Thinking back to before, I look over at the cabinet I had previously opened. That is only storing dust and probably a few spiders and their webs. So, I decided I'll clean up his place. All these fucking germs will die.

-----

And I already feel like setting the place on fire. Why? Because I opened one drawer and what crawls out? A goddamn cockroach. Probably the only thing that I can explode, and it stills manages to scramble around. Even so, I cleaned up a fair amount of trash that was lying around, so that's no longer a problem. Now, it's just a matter of sweeping, a bit of dusting, and picking up all the clothes everywhere. The clothes aren't too terrible, but Kirishima leaves his shirts out a lot. I'd assume it's when he works out, but he could still pick up after.

After lifting one I could tell that my assumption with right. The stench coming off of it is enough for me to gag, even King who had been following me after eating has kept his distance after I lifted in off the floor. I grab a trash bag to throw the thing into temporarily so that hopefully a portion of the smell would remain contained within it. There's a few of these shirts littered throughout the house, mainly in his room. Aside from that, just a bunch of socks and his, I'm guessing "clean" clothes, in the corner of his room sitting in a basket that's barely visible due to the pile.

I don't bother taking the clothes out of the bag once I'm done and instead simply leave them by the bathroom door. I've already had to experience it once but never again.

The rest of cleaning that came after was simple house work. Taking a damp cloth to all the surfaces to rid them of dust, adding a little bit of soap whenever coming across a stain or food residue, sweeping up piles of dirt and then dumping the gathered things into the trash, little things. Looking at my final product is simply astonishing. I'm more relaxed now that the space I'm in is more of a living room than a dump.

Quietly, I move to sit on a chair adjacent to the couch to which Kirishima is silently resting on. King struggles to climb to chair and reach me as he can't properly jump yet with his small size, so I aid him a by reaching down and picking him up. He's no larger than my hand fully extend. Hell if I wanted to I could probably fit him perfectly between my clasped hands without struggle and have him still having enough space to lay comfortably. Until you smash it.

"Fuck!" I glance over to Kiri hoping that I didn't disturb him, meanwhile King for a moment peered up at me only to return back to his previous state. Will you quit it already! I'm sick of this shit.

Sick of what "shit". Previously it had been the people around you. Now you're mad at me? God don't make me laugh. I'm all you have. I don't recall myself ever harming you once.

Yeah well you're giving me a damn headache right now. You cause me more struggle than anything else.  And I have people who care about me so fuck off.

Who exactly? Hm? You're not talking about Kiri know are you? Precious little Kiri? Why should he care? I'm sure he's plenty aware of who you are, what you do. You told him yourself didn't you? That you hurt your dad. You're honestly going to stick around him when you know you'll hurt him eventually. Don't kid yourself. You're dangerous. And what can you even mention about struggle? I've all but aided your way here in the first place. Come now be reasonable. Besides, I can never leave you unlike everyone else, can't walk away even if I may be annoyed with you, I'm stuck here with you.

"I-" My hands are shaking tremendously as I trip to grasp myself in an embrace. "I won't hurt him." I can't hurt him. He's always helped me. And you, all you fucking do is guide me in false directions. Fuck, you don't even exist, you have no body, no mind, no perception of life itself. I've gotten to this point by myself. Don't fucking try to take credit for that you piece of shit. You'll leave eventually. I'll make sure of it.

You claim that I am not real and yet you still engage in conversation with me. I'll never leave for I can't. Try all you want, but know that if I have left, what you call happiness has as well.

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