Drown in my ocean of black box dye

Chapter 10

Hey Eijirou,

I don't know why I keep calling. I know you're not going to answer. Maybe it's some sick twisted way to make myself understand what this summer was like for you.

***

The hospital was far too cold. Something about it felt wrong, that endless chill and weird smell. It felt like the place where people die.

Well, that was obviously because they did, but Bakugou didn't want to think about that right now.

He was huddled against one of those awful fucking chairs, with the color patterns that completely contrasted against the white tile and walls. Aizawa had given him his jacket earlier, but it didn't seem to stop the trembling. His clothes were dry, the blood had crusted against his stomach, but he couldn't take it off. Eijirou was on this fabric, and if he never saw him again then...

This bloody shirt is all he would have left.

His eyes had been shut for an eternity, but he couldn't sleep. The moment kept replaying over and over again.

Open the door, find Kirishima, hold him, kiss him.

Watch him stop breathing.

Shaking his head furiously, he listened to the distant beeps and chatter, wondering how the world could simply continue along like his best friend wasn't dying a couple of rooms away. It felt like the only thing that should matter to anyone right now.

He peered over to his right, finally opening his eyes, to where Kirishima's parents were speaking to a doctor. From the lack of emotional screaming, Bakugou could gather that, at the very least, Kirishima wasn't dead.

The clasping of his father's hand over his mouth as he looked away, however, did not make Bakugou feel confident it would remain that way.

Stuck in his little seat in the waiting room, Bakugou did just that. He waited.

He strained his ears to hear whatever the doctor was saying, but it was useless. It was unlikely that his parents would tell him either.

His mother had looked so hateful when she had seen him. He probably deserved it; his silence had contributed to Kirishima's downfall. Still, he wished he could convince them that he was trying to make things better.

His phone buzzed in his pocket for the millionth time, fingers trembling as finally reached for it. He had ignored it forever, refusing to see whatever soft and shitty messages his friends had left. When he looked now, he could see the dozens of calls and the hundreds, yes hundreds , of texts the idiots had left him.

Forgetting about all of that, he opened the phone app again; the number had climbed to an amount he had forgotten. Finding his target, he pulled the phone up to his ear.

"Out of all the reasons to stay, you were my favorite."

Kirishima had been laying on the bedroom floor, dying, in this message. Bakugou had been out with his friends despite the awful feeling he had left with. He ignored it, ignored Kirishima.

"Out of all the reasons to stay, you were my favorite."

Why did he sound so fucking happy? He must have wanted to die so badly for him to sound so euphoric while his lungs were slowly shutting down.

"Out of all the reasons to stay, you were my favorite."

He kept replaying it, scared he would lose what little pieces he still had left if he didn't.