Medicine // Bakudeku Fanfic

Chapter 22: His Impatience

Prison wasn't the best word to fit his category. It was a freezing cell. A parole. A place in which he was contained by being fed and treated while the annoying officers attempted to make a report. He was treated and envisioned as a ravage dog. Having handcuffs tied to the leg of the bed. He wasn't even free behind the bars! He couldn't even wander around that closed and boring space that limited his freedom! His violent, brusque, and foremost unacceptable behavior had worried the forces that his quirk would snap. They didn't trust the system.

Bakugo sat on the ground, legs apart as his strong body sustained these harsh treatments. His school uniform was still in place without the black sleeved-shirt. He had the first layer, though, the one that was a white long-sleeved shirt. He had the same pants and shoes. The officers decided to not feed his temper or risk damages so leaving him like that wasn't detrimental to them.

His gaze stared at the surface, thinking and reflecting of everything. That didn't mean it was good. Every second, every minute, every hour, every restless night, an infuriated beast grew inside of his soul. Instead of changing and learning for the best, what he got from this situation was unfairness. Everytime he got a grip or a way of beating anything or anyone relentlessly, he would take advantage of it.

He wasn't alone; other prisoners were there too but rummaged around with their hands detained. At least they could walk. Bakugo was, on the other side, managed as a fool, and that made his blood boil. How did he get to this point? It was surreal to even believe someone so aspiring could be within these terms. Under these conditions. All the time, he obssesively shifted the blame to anyone but himself.

"Fucking Deku... I-I'll kill him..." he drowned in his thoughts, mumbling to himself while his breathing became concernedly rough. "I will- once I get out... I'll make him suffer," voice getting louder and louder. His eyes were murderous, widely staring down. Where was that desire to become a hero? It lurked in him, but he could not help but focus on the present. Being a hero while being imprisoned was absurb.

"I-I'll..." He panted. "I'll make him beg and scream for his life... just like that bitch.." The blond's senses twitched from envisioning madness. "Bakugo, keep it down." An officer hit the barriers with his stick repeatively, catching his attention. The detained growled angrily after he left his view. The outcome of this situation was slowly leading him to insanity.

---

Painting the message went accordingly. Mid-way, he wasn't disturbed by anyone, so luckily, it meant that he did not have art club that day for an unannounced purpose. He folded and hid it in his backpack before leaving. He didn't want anyone to get in his way. Since a small idea related to this method lingered at the back of his head, he took Kacchan's black jacket to cover his identity. Anyone who perceived him behind the camera (viewers) or in the outside (passerby) shouldn't know who he is.

Beforehand he had assured that he would care less for whatever happened to him, as long as it did not direct to Kacchan. However, all that worry and stress had made him make the decision to solely wear a jacket. It wasn't hard and could save him less work to tolerate. People could hurt him as much as they want, but in reality, it may affect the plan.

In addition, if the League of Villains saw that this lowlife was begging for help, they'd probably refuse. Everyone in the city would eventually recognize him for his Midoriya case. Deku previously didn't realize since it was published today, hours ago. If the League of Villains saw that an idiotic kid who clinged onto a savage dependently asked for a collaboration, he would get turned down quickly. It was better to explain in person. He would have contacted them and be more convincing.

Anyway, he was outside the school, in front of the gates. A guilt filled his hurting heart. He wasn't going home today, but he ate a lot of food during lunch for preparation. The money he had, he hoped it would suffice. The battery he had, he hoped he would stay alert with the news once it spreads like wildfire. Confidence and courage was behind his door. He was going to do this, going to become a traitor to his minority, but not a scattergoat.