Between Two Lungs | Kiribaku

Breath Two

Pain either makes people resentful or hopeful.

━━༺♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸დ¸♫·¯·♪¸¸♩·¯·♬༻━━

Most nights were restless for Katsuki. He had been at the hospital for a good while at that point and still hadn't managed to get used to the firm, thin mattresses of the bed. He'd stare at the blank wall, almost as if were a hobby, and he'd think about the nothingness. About the miscellaneous things. About his mom. About his dad but he'd stop there just before the pent up anger could erupt and take over.

No one was around. Just him while everyone else slept.

He stood up from his bed, adjust the small bag that had been moved from the waistband of his pants to the metal bars on the side of the bed so he wouldn't crush it in his sleep. He strapped it to his shoulder, under the clothing, and tapped the tube down to his arm with some clear tape he found on the counter so it wouldn't get snagged on anything.

Walks at night were the best. No one bothered or tried to help him as he used the wall for support. It was a time when he could be independent, where he could struggle and be in pain and angry at the fucked up world on his own. Without the constant hovering, he felt like he could breathe. Ironic, wasn't it?

Sometimes he would take his camera with him to see if he could capture certain ways the moonlight came into a room. There were times when he'd stand by a window for hours, shifting with the light while experimenting with different angles to see if he could capture something. Anything. Or he'd hide when a nurse came and use them as a muse without their knowledge. Raw imagery was the best.

Katsuki didn't remember going down to the ground floor. He was descending down a hallway littered with large windows and he couldn't pass up the opportunity to take as many photos as he could. There were limits though, he was running out of film and he didn't know when his mom would come around again. Katsuki didn't take as many as he could, it was more like three and they weren't even that good.

But while moving down the empty hallway, a faint musical sound could be hurt. Soft, distant, beautiful. Captivating. He moved towards the sound faster, and as he turned the corner he found the lobby and instantly knew the sound was going from the piano before he could even see the person playing it.

The lobby was dimly lit by the lights lining the windows on the outside and what small amount of moonlight that could get in. As Katsuki moved towards the piano and objects came into view, he was able to see an oxygen tank and hair spiked up. He stopped in his tracks. Kirishima, the guy he met in the treatment room several days ago, was the last person he expected to see. Or wanted to see for that matter. From their brief conversation, it seemed as though the redhead was the friendly type, bubbly and all that came with it and Katsuki wanted to avoid him as best he could. Friends were useless when you're dying, especially when you're both dying.

"Oh hey," Kirishima said and turned around to smile at Katsuki with his eyes. He was going to leave, he wanted to leave before he was noticed, but he got lost in thought and ended up lingering longer than he should have.

He cursed himself out in his head. "Yeah, hi."

"Shouldn't you be asleep?"

"Shouldn't you be asleep?"

There was a brief sadness that flashed behind his eyes, however, it was barely visible due to the lack of light. "Nightmares. Not sleeping helps me avoid nightmares."

"Not sleeping will make you sick, idiot."

"I'm already sick."

"More sick."