Chapter Text
chapter one ; the fruit aisle
her face and soul one
he could never quite rid
himself of.
𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐓. As the week drew to a close the once calm and peaceful atmosphere of the store became a more chaotic, active and stressful place. Shoppers, the usual and new ones alike, eager to stock up for the weekend, thronged the aisles as y/n and her colleagues made a decent effort to keep the shelves stocked. Didn't help that the oh-so-gracious supermarket most locals shopped at had crumbled in a recent villain attack.
"Could you take over in the cash register? I'll handle the chip aisle and the fruit. Ring the bell if you need me, yeah?" y/n told her coworker who'd just returned from her lunch break, she who had wanted to wait out the rush that never seemed to diminish. If anything, the crowds only grew.
The environment reeked of hurry and the sheer volume of customers echoed the already tight space and emptying shelves. Once the remaining chips had been brought out and nearly snatched in instants y/n took her time handling the fruit and vegetables. No one really seemed to care for those on a Friday afternoon. The size of the shop made escaping the noise impossible, but the constant bumping of customers slowed down as she started putting out fruits.
Her desperate and honest attempts were interrupted once she backed up, with her now empty trolley, and ever so slightly crashed into someone.
"Fuck, I'm sorry-"
"Never learned to use your eyes, huh?"
Customers. Lovely little creatures. How many times has an irritable old man told y/n to 'watch it' or to 'lower the damned beer prices' and how many times had she wanted to tell them to go outside and step in front of a car- this was no old man. Though grumpy and always dressed in an unforgettable frown, the man in front of y/n, his voice and the choice of words were recognized immediately.
"Alright, do my eyes deceive me or is that you, Bakugou Katsuki?" she raised an eyebrow and chuckled at the man, her once classmate. How many years had passed now? Had to have been at least a decade since she last sat in the classroom of her found family. A decade since her last sarcastic remarks, unfairly thrown at their teacher Aizawa Shota. An entire decade since her last, loud, and unnecessary arguments with the spiky blond who sat in front of her, now standing in front of her.
He stared at her for only a second.
"Who are you?" He knew exactly who she was. Her story was one UA would never forget, her face and soul one he could never quite rid himself of. She had changed, the years that had passed since their last encounter handling her with kindness, a gentleness only seen in those who sculpted the one they envisioned their future with. He had been lucky, as well. His once sharp and threatening demeanour, now only half of what it used to be. His tone of demand and the rasp of his rage never left, though it was used with thought and care. y/n noticed how his eyes no longer lusted for victory, to be the best, but rather seemed they wanted to share that victory with the hundreds of lives he had saved through the passing years.
"y/n l/n, or, meteorologists as you'd pronounce it."
"Right. The girl who lost her quirk, yeah?" Choosing to ignore the simple fact that she was not just the girl who had lost her quirk, she had also been the girl who sat behind him in class. The one he'd always shift his head for so she could see the board. The one he had slowly opened up to, the only one who knew why he couldn't stand the feeling of the tie his uniform came with. The one he'd train with when he could, making sure they improved at a similar rate, so as to not exceed one another. to be equals.
"Well, at least you remember me for something, Bakugou." She cheered, a smile faker than the ones shared with customers who ask if items are free.
He stared at her, something about her throwing him off. Was it the fake smile? One he knew was meant for cheap customers? Or the use of his last name, having grown used to her saying his first name back when they were still in school. Something in him convinced him it would've been weirder had she still assumed to be on a first-name basis and let it go. After not saying a word for an awful amount of seconds, y/n cocked an eyebrow again.
"You work here?" He asked.
"What? Did the uniform give it away?" she joked and she continued, "You need help with anything?"
Bakugou sighed, annoyance seeping through his teeth. Not that this was new, but the way his anger didn't seem directed towards anyone was not something y/n had seen before. He had changed, if only just a little.
"I meant, you work here?" he corrected.
It's what most people would say, though it had been years since anyone had been surprised by the sheer amount of potential wasted in a small, yet cozy, grocery store. How could you drop out of UA? How could you get a job here? Out of all places? It was, again, nothing new. The implications behind the simple question brought back a lot of memories, ones she had sworn to rid herself of. But like she had held on to the hope of a different future, the memories held on to her, desperate to be part of her.
"Yup."
Bakugou appeared to be mad. She could only presume the anger wasn't meant for her, but instead, anger meant for the loss of her potential. The potential he and many others had witnessed first-hand at UA years ago.
It took a minute for y/n to realize she wasn't some teenaged girl back at UA, standing in the halls arguing with Bakugou about whatever as Kirishima had to stand between them to keep them from gripping at each other's collars, her trying to claw his eyes out, him attempting to slam her to a wall. She wasn't the young promising student, the one Mr. Aizawa would encourage at any given chance. She wasn't her old self and she never would be. She was an irrelevant retail worker whose life had gone to complete waste entirely by her own doing.
Shaking off her train of thought she looked back at Bakugou, who looked as if he was waiting patiently for y/n to continue speaking. She had nothing more she wanted to contribute with, instead choosing to change the subject.
"So, how's Kirishima and.. the others?" She asked, breaking the awkward silence she had yet to notice.
"Don't know, don't care. And Kirishima works with me," he answered, his tone as if that was a common question he had to answer on the daily. He looked away, avoiding eye contact like he always would do in class.
"You haven't changed one bit, have you?" she retorted with a light chuckle, trying to ignore the rising volume of voices in the background. She knew she was wrong to claim that, having already seen how different the man before her seemed. Looking back at her, he laughed. That was the difference. The way he didn't see the need to win at any given time. He didn't need to assert that he was the best in the room, no one else. He knew he was better than most, though still saw people as equals.
"Believe it or not, I have changed. A decade had passed." He spoke.
"But you're still an asshole?"
"You're still quirkless?"
y/n laughed, genuinely. He was still the classmate she remembered. Before she got a chance to joke back the bell rang, alerting y/n that she was needed by the cash register.
"Saved by the bell, Bakugou. I'll remember that one." She said, slowly backing away from the man, laughing as she turned around. For a moment Bakugou swore he saw the girl he'd tease in class. The girl he had involuntarily tried to protect at the USJ attack. The girl who'd test his limits by calling him by his first name. He'd never admit he enjoyed it, but the lingering feeling of longing crept around him as he left the store, and walked back home. It was no secret they were close back at UA. Almost 11 years ago now.
He'd never felt such rage as he did when she dropped out. Not even an entire year in. He took that rage out on everyone he encountered. For weeks he was insufferable. Miserable. His teenage self not knowing how to express his feelings of loss in any other way; only violence and battles of shouting.
He was so mad. Because she dropped out? Wasted all the potential and strength he had helped her gain? For barely reaching out? For leaving him? He never was one who could separate sadness from anger. It felt all the same to him.
As y/n handled the issues of her coworker, she had asked her, "You know him?" referring to the man she watched her speak to for an unnatural amount of time; y/n being known to never talk to customers unless it was absolutely necessary.
y/n watched as Bakugou left, having purchased nothing but obscene amounts of chilli and a carton of chicken stock. Something about re-remembering every detail she had had to beg out of him once held y/n unusually distraught for the rest of the day. Chili made sense, he was one to favour spicy food to match his temper. She only stopped staring at the now empty entrance when her colleague jolted her shoulder, asking her once again if that was someone she knew.
"Huh? Yeah, I went to UA with him." It was weird to say out loud. It was something she'd usually keep to herself, not wanting to go through the many details of her dropping out due to a work-study accident. She turned back to her coworker. Her friend. The store had finally slowed down, now only the usual one or two customers wandering the aisles, trying to recall their grocery store list or figuring out what they needed for tomorrow's dinner.
"You went to UA? I thought you were quirkless?" asked the curious girl, getting ready to put forgotten items back onto the shelves.
"I wasn't always quirkless... It was 11 years ago-"
"Yeah? I really don't care. There's a trolly of flour out back, you gonna get that or are you taking over the cash register?"
Missing her opportunity of y/n's exceedingly exciting story, she left, disappearing behind an aisle or two. Back to work, she thought. The store was closing soon though she felt as if it hadn't closed for a second in the 7 years she had worked there.
Fridays really were the worst.
♥︎
After closing the store, and finishing the last closing routines, she could finally leave the store at 11.17 pm. 17 minutes after closing time.
y/n walked home. It wasn't more than a ten-minute walk, five minutes by the bike she'd sometimes ride to work. It stood parked neatly outside her small yet comfortable home. It was one of those tiny terraced houses in the middle of a non-crowded neighbourhood. One where most people knew each other. The neighbourhood was near the outside of town, not too far from where y/n grew up. She entered her door, which was placed in the middle of an overgrown brick wall, and left her keys in the ceramic flower pedal bowl that took place on top of her entrance counter.
The house was as quiet as it usually was, the only sounds to be heard being one of her many neighbours' dog barking in the distance, the constant low humming of her kitchen lights and her own creaky footsteps.
This place felt just like home; the only thing missing being her parents.
They lived not far from her, still residing in her childhood home. She visited them as often as she could, bringing various arrays of bouquets for every visit. She'd make them dinner on nights she wasn't too tired herself, and clean their house if they ever went away for the day. Her family was dear to her.
Looking at the kitchen counter, she saw her unfinished grocery list from the earlier times of the day.
𝓖𝓡𝓞𝓒𝓔𝓡𝓘𝓔𝓢;
- tomatoes
- milk
- flour and sugar (make cookies for mom?)
- chicken
-
-
Opening her fridge, she tried to remember what more she should buy tomorrow before work, though her thoughts seemed to wander off on their own.
"Never learned to use your eyes, huh?"
"Learn to watch where you're going, extra!"
It was like meeting him for the first time – again, at that enormous entrance to UA. Hadn't it been for the obvious change in anger management, she would have assumed he was all the same as he always had been. That typical angry teenage boy. Back when her entire future plan consisted of 'becoming a hero!'
It was always fascinating to think how quickly future plans changed, voluntarily or not. 4 seconds, it took. It had taken her 4 seconds to decide at that moment. That day.
It was a day she would never forget.
y/n had been blessed at a young age, manifesting her quirk of control of the weather at the age of 4. Like most kids, she was encouraged to become a hero. That was what she wanted to be, right?
It started as only being able to control the rain once it was already raining. Manipulating the rays of sunlight when the sun was already shining. Shifting a storm once it had already arrived. Then she joined UA. It had already been figured out that her level of control depended almost entirely on her ability to control her emotions. Had she aced a test at school and had nothing but pride and happiness? The sun would shine for the day. Had she experienced the pinnacle of high school? A heartbreak? It could rain for days. Was she mad after having been teased by the older kids in elementary school? Suddenly a localized storm would terrorise their night.
She was such a promising soon-to-be hero. That was what she had wanted, right? It became less of a question and more of an expectation of her once she enrolled into UA. Because that was what she had wanted, right?
Right?
A certain day would sometimes come into mind. At the thought of UA, it was inevitable. That day. For better or for worse, she would never forget it.
"y/n!"
She had heard the distant sounds. They had neither yelled for help nor assistance. A warning. Don't come closer, did the tone of her name imply. It's dangerous, he had said. The ground was cold that day. Had concrete always felt that cold? Irrelevant. Had she hurt her leg in the fight? She could barely tell what blood was hers and not. It was the climax of her hero studies, the experience she had shared with Midoriya, now with Kiriahima, Asui and Ururaka as well.
The voice had been Mirio's. The voice of the boy more promising than the promise of tomorrow had told her to stay put. There was a child nearby as well. They were there for her, y/n reminded herself.
Overhaul, the villain of the mission was there, too. Underprepared and undermanned, Mirio stood ready to take any hit directed at either him or the little girl behind him. He knew the risks that day. y/n did too. And though they were both willing to fight, taking that risk with every breath, y/n had used her quirks powers one last time to take the hit before Mirio's dreams of his future came to an end.
She would never forget it, because that day, though in anguish for the loss of her quirk, her future...
No matter how hard she cried in that hospital bed, the sun never stopped shining.