in between | katsuki bakugou

01 | orbiting souls

IN THE EYES of artists, art can be indescribable. A word that can not be defined by the simplest of words or actions because it holds so much more than what is perceived. It is an obscuring way of evoking secret tales, whether that be in brush strokes, colours, musical notes, or twisted words. For Kiyomi, she pulled on the strings of her instrument and spoke in a secret language to tell the stories she held close to her heart. She hid behind the lyrics she wrote and sang, only for a specific audience that knew her well to decipher. She played melodies of notions and harmonies that ridiculed her feelings. It was a perfect flee for someone with a small voice that kept quiet, concealed behind the back of her throat.

Kiyomi had a lot of things to hide. And no, not things that made her shameful or embarrassed, but the ones that made her afraid—fearful. She didn't want others to see those faulty parts because she couldn't accept herself in the first place.

So she runs to the comfort of her haven, an expanse of safety. Buried in the instruments she plays, she can set free all the sappy sentiments that lay in between the layers of her skin.

At some point, it all becomes a blur and she doesn't even hear the call of her name from a hallway down. She hums to a beat she fabricated until she catches her father's soft voice. Her headphones were immediately pushed down to her neck and her guitar was placed on the side of her bed.

As she stepped into the vacant hall, she caught a glimpse of her dad by the door, throwing his work bag over his shoulder.

"I'll be on my way now, Kiyomi," Ryota smiles at his daughter, which she returns.

"Stay safe, okay?"

"Always do."

Kiyomi steps forward, leaning into her father's side. He quickly places a light kiss against her temple, whispering I love you, I'll see you soon. She giggles at that before pulling away.

With a final goodbye, Ryota turns to reach for the front door. Yet, he pauses and pats himself down, searching for something in his pockets. When all is lost, his lips turn into a thin line with question, then whips his head around to ask, "Sweetie, have you seen my k—"

"Keys?" Kiyomi finishes his sentence for him. Dangling in her hands was what he was just looking for. She found them lying around in the living room like all the other times he had misplaced them. It was a bad habit her old man kept making, but she didn't mind picking up the pieces for him. After all, it was what they did for each other.

The corner of Ryota's lips broke into another smile when she handed him his keys. "Thank you, sweetheart," he says, ruffling the top of her head. But she was quick to swat away his hand before he could ruin her hair.

"Get outta here, old man. You're going to be late." She grumbles.

Her dad threw his hands up in surrender. "Yeah, yeah. Don't worry, I'm going."

Leaning against the wall to her right, Kiyomi watched as he waved goodbye, the door following right behind him. The apartment falls silent, the background with nothing but the air conditioner running and the mere conversations that took place a floor up.

A familiar feeling she knew all too well started to settle in. That pit in her heart dug deeper till it reached the ends of her stomach. The corner of her lips flattened as she stepped back, returning to her room.

Shadows crept in the corners, an endless reminder of how incredibly, and utterly lonely she was.

But it was okay because all she needed was Dad and their own little world ( even if she craved a little bit more ).

———

In the galaxy of the Milky Way, we are just a fragment of existence. A small, insignificant piece in the vast universe that coexists with its celestial bodies.