Drown in my ocean of black box dye

Chapter 12

This might be the last night I ever see you.

I don't want to think about the fact that there's a chance you're never going to hear this.

I'm making a compromise. I'm going to tell you things about me that no one knows. Little things that I wish you knew, that I wish I got to tell you.

If you wake up, then you'll get to hear these things, and you can make fun of me as much as you want. I promise I won't get mad.

And if you don't then... then they'll stay here, trapped in your phone forever.

...

I know how to sing. When I took drum lessons my mom made me take vocal lessons as well. I still sing in the shower, only when I'm alone. Being good at singing feels embarrassing and I don't know why.

I had a cat named Tohru in grade school because Fruits Basket is my favorite manga, and I cried for weeks when she died. I haven't had another cat since.

Your hair isn't shitty, but it was the first thing I noticed about you so I latched onto it. I'm sorry if I was ever the reason you felt like you were ugly. I...

I think you're one of the most beautiful people alive.

...

I'll see you in the morning. I have to believe that.

I'll call you beautiful then.

***

Bakugou gripped Kirishima's hand tight, head laid against the mattress. Aoi and Isamu were standing off to the side, both unable to get any sleep. The possibility that they might wake up without a son was too much to bear.

There had only been silence for hours, the quiet charged with unescapable nervousness. Something about the room felt incredibly lifeless, from the white walls to Kirishima's unmoving body. All of these things combined made death feel like it was lurking around the corner.

Bakugou had been holding onto unmoving fingers for hours now, waiting for them to twitch even a little.

Aoi watched as his whole arm trembled from exhaustion, the position of it against the bed must've been extremely uncomfortable. There was a pang somewhere under her ribs.

"You know," she started, looking at Bakugou, "the doctor said it was good to talk to him. I don't know if he meant good for us or good for Eijirou, but it might help."

Bakugou nodded slowly, eyes half-closed as he scooted forward some. He laid his head down as close to Kirishima as he could get. He didn't want to talk, it felt wrong; it felt like he was an intruder in this closed-off room.

Anything had to be better than this.

"Do you remember the night we hung up stars in your room?" Bakugou asked, finger doing a small walking motion up Kirishima's arm. He'd picked up the habit from Eijirou himself; he did it frequently during study sessions. "You had to stand on that really unsteady chair you use at your desk, and I told you it wouldn't work, but you didn't listen."

He smiled some, "So when you stood on it, the back gave out and folded on you. You hit the ground so hard I thought you were concussed." Chuckling lightly, his fingers touched black hair, "And when you broke the chair, all the stars fell with you. They landed right on your face. You were just sitting there on the ground laughing, and when I went to check on you..."

He brushed those pretty bangs back behind Kirishima's ear, "The stars were tangled in your hair. You were smiling, and you looked like a galaxy."

Bakugou sniffled, attempting to blink away stray tears; he had cried too much in the last few weeks, "and I realized you were the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen."