Work Text:
Ocean waves splashed far below his bare feet, the cold breeze biting his neck and cheeks. The waters were rough and in turmoil, as if the ancient gods had woken up on the wrong side of the bed that morning. He couldn’t really blame them; living for that long was bound for some bad days. Bakugou was only sixteen, yet he seemed to have a terrible day everyday. It only made sense that the gods would share a similar problem occasionally.
Bakugou wasn’t particularly religious. He did understand, however, that if people found solace in believing in a deity way up in the sky, or deep underground, it wasn’t his right to judge. Yeah, he found it stupid sometimes, but he wouldn’t say it to their faces. He was willing to make fun of people for a lot of things, Deku could vouch for that, but religion wasn’t one of them. He rubbed his face, his hands equally as cold as the rest of his body.
He had walked here. It was the weekend, so he figured lying and saying he was with his parents wouldn’t come off as suspicious to the staff and administration. He was right, thankfully; they didn’t question him and sent him on his way. He hadn’t gone back to his parents’ house. He never even considered even going there, actually. He had one place on his mind the entire time for the past week or so, and there he went.
Bakugou didn’t know what was taking him so long. The water below was just at the right tide and the right movement. Everything was just as he wanted it. Even the sun was shining right where he wanted to land. He should just get on with it already before he misses the opportunity. He wouldn’t even be noticed for the blood wouldn’t even show up in the dark water, and his body would be carried away.
He imagined his own death quite often. There were several ways to die, but he figured this would be the most serene. Bakugou had liked swimming, at one point, so he thought it was only fitting he’d die in water. Still though, he didn’t want to drown. That would be just ironic. Falling was a different story, though, and he wouldn’t have to worry about what came after when he made a heavy splash.
“Sitting a bit close to the edge, aren’t you?” Bakugou didn’t flinch at the noise, but his heart did beat a bit faster. It was calm before, just as he wanted it to make for the peaceful death. He considered jumping off right then and there before the situation could escalate, but he knew he would be ‘saved’ before that could happen. It wasn’t really saving, not in his mind. It was just prevention from something he was going to try and do again.
Bakugou refused to answer, continuing to stare at the horizon. If he was a bird, he could dive down, deep into the water. He could find a nice, big shark to come and eat him. That would be a rather painful way to go. “That’s a long way down, isn’t it?” Bakugou didn’t like the questions. It made him think when he wanted his head to empty of thoughts. He wanted to snap back, in all honesty. Use his usual rage that tormented his life on his teacher, but that wouldn’t bode well for his plan.
“That’s kind of the whole point.” Curse me. He bit his lip, not meaning to say what he did but it happened anyway. That kind of stuff always happened when he thought about speaking. It was always negative things, about everyone and everything. That was one of the reasons he was at the cliff that day. He didn’t bother making a list of why he was there.
If Aizawa took offense to what he said, he did a good job of not voicing it. “It would be better if we stood and talked to each other face to face.” The rocks crackled under the man’s feet, ones that were not bare like Bakugou’s. That much he could tell. He could also tell that Aizawa was trying to get him away from the cliff, or make it easier to catch him if he were to fall.
Bakugou gripped the edge and made his knuckles turn white. “No. That’s a dumb idea.” He couldn’t blast past Aizawa’s scarf. With what he was wearing, it was impossible for him to create a big enough explosion to produce the speed he would need. The best he could do was get Aizawa away from him. “It’s creepy to stalk students when they are trying to enjoy a peaceful day out by the sea.” Bakugou wasn’t enjoying himself, per se, but it was a better feeling than what he usually had.
“I wouldn’t say it’s creepy when you’re a pro-hero trying to do your work. Perhaps I was passing by on my job, saw you and decided to say hello.” He scrunched up his nose. He was bouncing off of his student easily- this was going to be a difficult fight to win, but if he was good at anything, it was making people want to get away from him.
“You work during the night. Don’t look down on me like I’m an idiot.” In truth, Bakugou was an idiot. A fool, even. The list was starting to form itself in the back of his mind. He didn’t want to think about that right now. The ocean was calling for him, its crashes against the rocks being a siren melody to his ears.
Aizawa, or Eraserhead, as he would rather be called outside the school setting, sighed. “Then don’t call me creepy. We both know why I’m here, and why you’re here, for that matter.” A frown etched its way across the child’s face. “Actually, I’d like to know more about why you’re here. But, I want you to tell me standing up.” This is so stupid.
“I don’t care about what you want.” The words slipped out of his mouth like a snake’s venom through its teeth. He cringed painfully. “I’m your student. You should put my priorities first and leave, because that’s what I want you to do.” If all he could do was keep his stubbornness up, he could die like he came here to do in the first place. He’d been having second thoughts for too long.
Aizawa didn’t hesitate for a second before responding to Bakugou. It was like he was expecting all of this. “If conforming to my student’s wants puts them in danger, then I don’t have to do it. Not everything is black and white,” Why wasn’t the teacher moving? Bakugou was having one hell of a time trying to figure out what Aizawa’s next plans were when he wouldn’t even so much as shift his body weight. “So, that’s why I’m asking you to stand up. It’s for the better of the two of us.”
Those words. Bakugou didn’t like those words. It made him think of things that he’d come to the cliff to finally end. In a panic, he responded more harshly than he intended. “It’s not better for the two of us when I don’t want to be having this fucking conversation right now.” He wanted to be off the cliff, dead in the water. He didn’t want Aizawa to watch him do it.
Why can’t you leave? “Why do you want to die so badly?” Bakugou stopped. His whirling thoughts came to a complete and utter halt when he spoke so calmly. He didn’t get it. Maybe he didn’t want to get it. How could Aizawa tell what he was feeling? How could he know that Bakugou was practically begging everyday to be off of the face of the planet?
He didn’t speak. He couldn’t think of anything to say. There were too many answers and not enough time to say them. Besides, Aizawa wouldn’t get what he was feeling. All of his words, his internal regrets that haunted him when he tried to sleep, would just go in one ear and out the other. It wasn’t worth it. “When I was your age,” Bakugou’s mouth twitched at the start of the sentence, expecting nothing good to come out of it. Berating words, probably. Trying to tell him that he was supposed to be happy with what he had. The gods knew that he tried to be thankful for everything he was born with, but couldn’t seem to love. “I wanted to die as well.”
One shock after another. Aizawa had a way with words, because no matter how high Bakugou’s guard was, it would be destroyed with one syllable after the next. “One of my best friend’s died. He was what kept me motivated to continue down the path of becoming a pro-hero. His death really fucked with my brain. I didn’t see a point of going on.” The man moved, for this first time in what seemed like ages. It was just a little bit, but Bakugou knew what he was doing. His hands were going in his back pockets, judging by the slight foot shift. It meant he wasn’t worried, which was strange, considering the whole situation.
“I spent a long time trying to figure out a way to die. Present Mic convinced me to go to a therapist. It wasn’t easy, and I was close to killing myself multiple times.” Bakugou really wished he could see his teacher’s face. What he was feeling, and thinking, and even trying to do would become known knowledge if Bakugou would just turn around, but he knew that’s what Aizawa wanted, and he also didn’t want Bakugou to die, if the story was telling him anything.
Did he really want to die? No, no second thoughts. But it kept coming back to him, no matter how many times he pushed it back. Did he really want to jump off the cliff? “In the end, I’m still walking and breathing, aren’t I? I believe to this day that if Present Mic hadn’t gotten me a therapist, I wouldn’t be here with you right now.” Bakugou so badly wanted for this conversation to end; then he could sort out his thoughts and try to understand himself.
Something clicked in Bakugou’s head. He began to scowl a little. “Are you comparing yourself to Present Mic? Are you trying to be a hero?”
There was a pause, but it wasn’t hesitation. If he knew anything about his teacher, it was that Eraserhead did not hesitate. “It’s literally my whole job.” Bakugou cussed himself out under his breath, and maybe some of them were directed towards his teacher, too. “My words may mean nothing to you, Bakugou,” The man’s shoes scuffed the ground, turning his body away from Bakugou. “But if you choose to jump today, make sure you fight on the way down.” He walked away without a goodbye, but what he said left an impact on Bakugou. Mostly because he couldn’t grasp what his teacher was trying to tell him. It annoyed him to no end. The rocks underneath his butt were starting to hurt.
He sat on the cliff, overlooking the horizon, just as he had been when Aizawa had come to talk to him. He estimated how long it would take Aizawa to get in his car and drive away, or at least walk away. The climb up and down is not taxing at all, and Eraserhead was not one to wait around. Bakugou resigned himself to his spot for what he guessed to be ten minutes. That would be enough time for distance to be put between the teacher and student.
Sighing, he pushed himself to a standing position. He slipped on his shoes and slowly trekked down the cliff. He’d have to find a new calendar to replace the one he’d ripped the rest of the days off of.