Familiarity

Chapter Five

The room was solemn and dark. Lights hanging from the ceiling made a path from the middle of the room to the wall where a framed image of your sister sat. Candles surrounded her chubby cheeks and happy eyes. They reflected from the glass and illuminated the rose petals until they were a brighter color than they usually were.

Chairs were on either side of the path, and those who previously sat stood with their hands holding the other in front of them. They watched the framed picture with sad eyes.

You stood in the back of the room, at the start of the lit aisle. You weren't wearing the black dress shirt and pants like everyone else. You weren't wearing a dress like your mother, nor were you wearing the tux like your father.

You stood alone, wearing grey pants and a t-shirt with the same hue as your bottoms. You began to walk down the path without a thought in your mind. Eyes moved onto you, and you turned your head feverishly as everyone began to watch you in disbelief. The darkness that everyone else stood in grew darker than the soft shadows they once hid within. Pitch black surrounded you, suffocating and slowing each of your movements until a bad feeling shot through your chest. It was suddenly hard to move, though you found there was thick hesitance and fear grabbing at your ankles, whispering for you to stop and hide.

But you continued forward until the candle's illuminecence flickered, dimming the entire picture. When they became bright again, your sister's face was no longer the one framed along the candles and gently pigmented roses.

Instead, it was Bakugou's.

You got on your knees to the picture's level and looked close. The small flames atop each candle reflected in your eyes. He seemed to be the same age that you last remember him being, though the proportions were off, as if trying to convince you the photo was from when he was a kid. He looked happy in the picture, unlike the neutralized faces and the anger that usually sat behind his face without meaning or a flame keeping it alive.

The flowers around the picture were different from before. Before they were pink carnations and lilies that seemed to wilt at your sister's disappearance. Your sister loved lilies. She loved all flowers, but those were her favorite. They reminded her of fairies and everything magical that she adored with those large eyes of hers. But then, they were beige roses and orchids that circled around the image like it was the picture frame instead. The colors didn't match, but you guessed it would be disrespectful to allow your deprecating thoughts to continue while mourning the loss of someone you knew. You touched a rose petal with your finger, watching as it bounced at your touch.

All of a sudden you turned around and walked down the lit aisle, walking towards the cedar casket that you hadn't noticed previously. The top part was opened, allowing anyone close enough to see Bakugou inside. He wore a crispy placed suit that was beige like the roses. A red tie sat on his sternum, the hue a contrast to the unhealthy paleness of his skin. He looked lifeless but alive all at once. Once again it was like you were desperately trying to convince yourself of a lie you were aware of. His ashy hair was as coarse and fluffy as always, though it was flattened by the place his head rested near the edge of the box.

You knelt in front of the casket and leaned an arm on the edge. You brought a hand to his forehead and hated the feeling that followed. He felt so cold. It was such a strange feeling for him. His body temperature always ran warmer than usual. You remember your mother discovering that fact after the single and only time he visited your house and felt a bit sick—it wasn't funny then, but his temperature was past the point of visiting the hospital, and after calling his parents, his mother assured his only had a mild fever and that she would pick him up soon.