Drown in my ocean of black box dye

Chapter 4

TW: MENTION OF ED RELATED TENDENCIES

Reason #2 to Live: I found all those pictures I took for the corkboard. I was looking them over to see all the good memories from the years before. I thought it would hurt but it felt more bittersweet than anything. I wish Bakugou could see the face he was making in some of these.

Maybe one day.

***

Kirishima opened his eyes, vision fuzzy as he looked away from the light. His body ached everywhere, his neck screaming with pain as he rolled over, hoping to find some warmth.

There was none.

He felt his hand around the place Bakugou had been laying the night before, the sheets cold and abandoned. Something in his chest squeezed tight, air stolen from him as he took in the silence of the room.

He was alone.

Why would he stay?

Kirishima groaned, sitting up in an attempt to crush down the voice. The neverending dialogue continued.

You let him in and look at what happened. He got scared and ran away.

You're broken. Used. Look at you.

Kirishima's core was white-hot, angry, and violent. He began to shake from the emotion, sharp teeth grinding against one another. Actions carried by nothing else than rage, he grabbed his pillow and tore at it, shredding through the stuffing with his hardened fingers.

He looked like a toddler throwing a tantrum - which was stupid because he was an adult. He didn't feel like an adult though.

He felt just like he did when his dad threw him in the deep end of the pool when he was four. When the cold water had touched his skin, he had gasped for air, only to take in a lung-full of water. Sure, he figured out how to swim pretty quickly after that; but why did he almost have to die just to learn how to float?

Kirishima felt like he couldn't breathe.

Sitting in the labor of his episode, Kirishima grabbed fistfuls of cotton. Wheezing, he folded into himself, crying softly as the embarrassment of fit caught up to him.

He collapsed on his side, tears falling down his cheeks; his body felt incredibly stiff.

How are you supposed to be a hero when you're like this?

Groaning, he grabbed at his hair. He kicked his legs, overwhelmed by everything that was going on.

Be quiet!

Be better.

Stop. Please, stop.

Weak.

He dissolved into a pile of sobs, eyes screwed shut so that the outside world wouldn't exist for a while.

This is stupid. He left because he didn't have - want -  to stay.

You're a weight he got tired of carrying.

Without the energy to fight back, Kirishima gave into the voice; that dark, hideous thing that rested somewhere deep inside of him.

He stared at the wall, unable to produce any real emotion as he took in the words his mind created, sinking into the reality of his life.

***

Bakugou chopped the onions in front of him, hyper-focused on the task at hand. He felt bad leaving Kirishima alone - something was obviously wrong with him - but he could tell that he hadn't been eating, and he was determined to fix that.