Count To Ten - KiriBaku

Five.

POV : Kirishima. 

Five short, consecutive raps on my door tell me I have company. "Let me regain feelings in my body first," I tell nobody in particular. Shrugging on a loose, long shirt and barely considering the mechanical movements I'm making, I move to the door. I'll have to show my face eventually, may as well be now.

Although, I look like I have no business in a high school dorm. I'm skinny and pale, clammy from vomiting and nausea induced by blood loss and vomiting, combined with my strict inability to stomach even a little bit of food. Most of my older cuts along my arms are scabbed over, but my fresher, newer ones still drip blood onto the tiles, ominous and nauseatingly loud. Pee, vomit, and blood stain the floor an unsettling, dull shade of the rainbow.

Still, I gotta let people know I'm still around. I shuffle my way to the door and turn the knob.

It's Katsuki.

"Eijiro Kirishima, how dare you-" He is interrupted by me slamming the door shut on his face; he was using his "fucking come at me, I dare ya" voice and I don't have time for his petty bullshit anymore. Maybe not even time for him.

"EIJIRO!" I hear him screech, pounding on the door again. I rigidly move back to my bed and promptly throw up the only meal I've been able to force myself to have in 24 hours, a small chicken burrito, followed by my flopping into bed and passing out. Just in time to see Bakugo busting down the door, shrieking my name, and cutting himself short just as he sees my form huddled on the bed.

I feel him clutch my wrists, still bleeding, and he sobs my name. "Eiji... I'm sorry..."

The world goes black.