He's not dead. (Bakugo x Kirishima) //BNHA//

He's not dead.

'Dear Kiri,
I never wanted to believe them. I still don't - but the more that I love forward I can't process it anymore. Now, time passes by so agonisingly slowly I don't know what to do with myself. Can you believe that?'

The bleakness of the world had finally caught up with the violent blond in his search for a valid answer that met his standards. The loss of someone important to him broke the aspiring hero in so many pieces and he wondered how they did it; how they manage to pull themselves together. Though he did what he knew best to do - put up a wall, a front of anger to anyone who approached. More so than usual.

Teachers attempted to douse the flame that the moment had lit in Bakugo but to no avail. It was an anger even Midoriya didn't know how to tame.
"Is...Is he doing any better?" Uraraka spoke up after glancing over to the blond, head down on his table and head turned towards the window. The question brought silence amongst the group, mournful looks and sympathetic expressions.
"No," Midoriya finally said, his head turned down to his fingers knitting together, "it hit him harder than anyone else. He can't believe it...I've never seen him like this." He admitted with deep regret and sadness in his tone.
"It's so disheartening. I never thought it would be Kirishima - of all people. It's not right...He was strong eno....." Iida spoke before trailing off, feeling an ominsious stare at the back of his hair.
"Shut the fuck up. He's not dead." Bakugo spat at them, now sat up with his attention turned to them. They all looked over not to see the strong, feared individual there before. His eyes weren't angry. The amber orbs had softened to sadness, though the flame of revenge still sparked and windled. The confidence in his expression had changed to a look of pure hurt. Silence claimed the room and none said a word, sharing an almost awkward stare.
"He's not!" Bakugo shouted at them again and stood up, slamming his shaking fist down on the table. "Stop looking at me like that." He muttered through a clenched jaw, chest rising in quickened breaths.
He only snapped out of it when Mr. Aizawa walked in through the door and gave him the deadpanned expression.
"What happened to Mr. Eijiro will not be spoken of in this classroom again. Not by you, nor I or anyone." He muttered through the scarf like bindings covering his mouth. This caused Bakugo to slither into his seat in a slumped mess, fingers digging crescent into his palms with his nails. Throughout the rest of the lesson he couldn't get us mind off of the looks they gave him.
'Don't pity me. Don't look at me like I'm beneath you. I'm not. Don't look at me like you're sorry. He's not dead,he's not dead.' His mind whirled. Sickness bubbles in his stomach, an intense pain though he only clenched his fist together under the table more, focused on the table infront of him.
"Mr. Katsuki, you can leave early today. I'll give you the material to catch up on later." Mr Aizawa said, after he had seen the hurt plastered on Bakugo's face.
Instead of saying something, Bakugo just stood up and walked out without another word. Once again, leaving the room in an awkward silence.

'Dear Kiri,
You selfish bastard. You better read this and come back before I beat you up - you hear me?! If I find you hiding somewhere pulling a prank I don't forgive you.
You're not dead. You can't be. You're stronger than that.
Don't leave me with deku and the others.'

The words spilled out onto the paper he had on his desk, sitting back to look at it. His handwriting had deteriorates the more angry he got. Or, he assumed it was anger: but deep down he knew the anger was pain. His best friend and closest companion since Deku had become a true friend when they were younger. Compared to that, he and Kirishima had a bond no one understood. That night, he didn't want to sleep. Everytime he closed his eyes the torn, pained look on his face made his eyes shoot open with what e could only understand as tears welled up in his eyes. Useless. He couldn't do anything. Instead, he sat at his desk writing more. More letters, more words. Almost like a diary entry but he knew that they would eventually reach Kirishima. He knew he wasn't dead, in his eyes e couldn't be.