Drown in my ocean of black box dye

Chapter 11

I can't do this anymore.

They keep putting flowers outside your room and they keep fucking dying because you're not there to put them in water so there are petals all over the hallway and...

I can't do this forever. I can't. You can't die because if you do I...

I think I might too.

I love you.

I'm so sorry you didn't get to hear me say it but if you just come back you can. I'll tell you a thousand times. I mean it. Every time you want me to, even when you don't, I'll say it.

I love you, Eijirou Kirishima.

I love you

I...

Fuck

***

Kirishima's balcony doors did not lock. Bakugou had learned this in a moment of desperation, the need to be next to Kirishima outweighing everything else. He had broken in during the early hours of the morning, deciding to sleep in his bed.

The place still smelled of pre-workout and barbells, some sage wood mixed in there. Normally, Bakugou would make fun of him for having a room that reeked like a gym, but now he was under his covers, wrapped in Kirishima's favorite hoodie.

It had been a month since Kirishima's attempt.

Bakugou had decided people who say grief gets better with time were fucking liars. It didn't help that Kirishima wasn't dead, just completely comatose.

The doctors kept saying that once the swelling went down they could heal him. That his brain was too fragile.

But the swelling wasn't going down, not even a little.

In all these weeks, he had also decided something else. That hope did not exist. That jump in his throat when Isamu called him, the black pit it fell into, that wasn't the hope that Eijirou was awake.

It was the fear that he was dead.

He hadn't slept in so long.

The entire class had been given a two-week break following Kirishima's overdose. Thankfully, Aizawa had given him an extension on that time, allowing him to do most of his work online.

He didn't think he could face the class right now.

Trying his best to break the streak, he closed his eyes, cuddling into the pillow as exhaustion hit him in a wave.

***

Bakugou was awoken by a soft hand on his cheek, pulling him from slumber. Opening his dreary eyes, he was met with red.

"Damn man!" Kirishima said, smiling wide at him, "You were really sleeping!"

Sitting straight up, Bakugou almost fell off the bed as he scrambled away.

"Geez dude, what's with the rush?" Kirishima questioned, leaning forward.

"Your," Bakugou faltered, taking in the sight before him, "your hair."

It was fire red, spiked up even though Kirishima was in his classic bedtime t-shirt and boxers duo.

"It's red," He breathed, eyes blinking wildly.

"Oh!" He said, touching it softly, "Yeah, it is!"

Bakugou scanned his surroundings, realizing he was in Kirishima's room. Everything looked fuzzy though, his posters unreadable and walls all white.