An Old Friend || a short bnha story

.an old friend

The hospital room is as devoid of beauty as I am of hope. Its walls are simply cream, not peeling or dirty, just cream. There is no decoration at all save the limp curtain that can separate my bed from the three others in here. It was perhaps once the kind of green that reminds people of spring-time and hope, but it's faded so much that the hue is insipid. The room as an undertone of bleach and the floor is simply grey. At the far end are windows in brown metal frames, only openable at the top. Not a single person has flowers, cards or home brought food. They are sleeping to pass the time or staring at nothing at all. There are stands for intravenous drips and monitors. At the door are dispensers for rubber gloves, hand sanitizer and soap.

It was dark, that medicinal room. The draping curtains disguised my view of the night. I tried recalling what had occurred.

Was I on a patrol? A large villian attack possibly. What happened? Eijiro.. shitty hair. I remember him present. Was he with me?

I tried reflecting on my husband. Only his smile came to mind. His smile was one of happiness growing, much as a spring flower opens. I could see how it came from deep inside to light his eyes and spread into every part of him. I couldn't think of him any longer before my ears rang, its resemblance like a high pitched scream.

I just wanted to go to sleep.

My eyebrows furrowed as the noise got louder. Louder and louder. It stopped. Maybe it was now so loud I couldn't hear anything. The hospital gown draped around my body stuck to my torso from the sweat.

I couldn't hear anything. Not the snores of other patients down the corridor of dreary wooden doors. Nor the steady continuous beeping of the heart monitor. Did I go overboard?

I clenched my palm. Bad idea. Yelping from the pain, I observed that I had bandages wrapped around my arms. That reminded me of that little girl that third year saved in return of his quirk... I think she died in the mission? I cnat remember, my memory has been foggy lately. Nevertheless, the bandages made me imagine her. I could recognise the look she had anywhere, especially after being in the evening news for years. The media could never get enough of this case.

Guilt rised up in his throught as his villainous red eyes watered

I flickered my eyes closed, the melancholic style of the hospital unable to see. I didnt know I would never open them again.

I must of fell asleep because I remember seeing him. The clothing he wore on that fateful day adorned on him. His messy hair covering his head as his emerald orbs flared at me, pity written all over them.