XXVIII

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Even though his body felt at rest, floating and weightless in this shadowy darkness, he felt a pulling sensation in his chest that something was wrong. Sounds floated, and he was sure someone in white was calling out to him, the same presence he felt at the Monastery lingering just out of his reach. It was frustrating, but he could do nothing about it as his body remained suspended and motionless. 

Time was fluid, everything was rather peaceful apart from the odd sounds, and he felt truly restful. He didn't know how he ended up here, everything was white then red then black, but his body felt no sense of danger, simply that wherever he was he wouldn't remain so for much longer. Slowly, like snow drifting peacefully through the air, he felt his body falling, getting denser and heavier and now sort of painful. The sensation soon overwhelmed him, and as he reached the ground he inhaled greedily, opening his eyes, shadows dissipating with each slow blink. 

His head felt like it was full of water, his thoughts blending together, and a sharp pain twisted in his chest with each inhale. The first time it shocked him, a piercing right into his heart, and he must have made a pained sound for the flickering candles next to him were replaced with a large and looming figure. He thought it was his father, thought that maybe he had passed out in training once again, but this person wasn't as tall and didn't have flames surrounding them promising him more pain. 

"Shoto? Shoto, shit, can you hear me?! Hey, say something!"

There was no need to shout, not when his head was already in so much pain, that same voice lingering in the depths of his mind but slowly drifting further away until he could almost believe he imagined it. He managed to make a sound, whether a hum or a groan he couldn't exactly tell, but the next thing he knew something warm was holding his face, cupping his cheek so delicately it shocked him, made him flinch, before his body took control and he let himself rest against it.

"Shoto, fuck. You- shit, you idiot, fuck-"

Must they curse so much? It was strangely familiar, however, more so when his vision came into focus and the person beside him was easier to see. Strong and muscled arms, blond hair that glowed in the candlelight, and red eyes. A distinct red, pure like blood and rich like rubies, not bright like suffocating flames.

"Kats-" His voice deserted him, air halting in his lungs leaving him coughing and for that burning pain in his heart to return. He must have looked a pitiful sight, but he couldn't remember the last time he was confused and in so much pain. 

"Yeah, yeah it's me." Bakugou's voice sounded rushed, a little higher than usual, like he was worried or panicking. He recalled hearing the same voice many days ago, or at least, he thought it was days, when they were playing cards, a game Shoto did not understand, but the man was losing his mind over how close Denki came to winning. "Fuck. Deep breaths, princess. You're okay."

There were more curses, but they were barely audible over his raspy coughs, eyes squeezed shut from the pain. He found he lacked the strength to open his eyes for much longer, keeping them half-lidded as he looked back at Bakugou. He wanted to ask what happened, why he was so tired and why it felt like a sword had gone straight through his heart, splitting his body in two, but an exhausted sigh was all that left his lips. 

"Hey, try and stay awake a little longer! Cheeks'll be right back. Fuck. Hey, stay with me!"

He wanted to, he truly did, but he was already being pulled back into the shadows, and he could only let his cheek rest fully against Bakugou's palm, lips faintly brushing calloused skin, before he let go. A warm breath on his forehead, something soft through his hair, allowed him to part peacefully...

"He will be alright, I've managed to extract most of the poison. The rest has spread too deep, so he'll be asleep for a while longer."

"Your nails are all stained. Don't worry, we'll paint them together again when you wake up!"

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