𝐶𝐴𝑅𝐴𝑀𝐸𝐿 𝑆𝑊𝐸𝐴𝑇 ᵇⁿʰᵃ ᵒⁿᵉˢʰᵒᵗˢ.

k. bakugo | sad, just sad

[ꕥ SUMMARY ꕥ]

Something so beautiful seemed to have turned unpleasant in a certain person's eyes.

[ ꕥꕥꕥ ]

   Fireworks,

   The two of you have loved them.

   Deafness.

   The one thing Bakugo was unable to avoid.

   "Wanna know why I always make us watch fireworks when the opportunity comes?"

   "It's something you can enjoy with just your very eyes, it's a sight I wish makes you enjoy yourself even at your state."

Well, what if said-state, got worse to the point where,

Even the thing you wished he could enjoy 'til the end, could no longer be enjoyed?

ꕥ

"Bakugo,"

You called, Bakugo turned his head upon hearing your voice through his hearing aids.

He knew it was you, but his vision seemed to have been bothering him.

Yes, his vision.

He's hidden this fact from you, mainly because he didn't want you to get all worried for him like you did when he slowly lost his hearing.

His hands made signs and gestures in reply to your words, brows furrowing, he asked;

"What do you want?"

You giggled, "There's another firework show this weekend, sooo, I was planning maybe we could go there,"

Bakugo looked down, nodding as a light whiff of breath flew from his nostrils.

"Something wrong?" you questioned.

The boy simply shook his head.

"Alright then, well, just be ready by 6:00 pm, alright? I found a good spot too."

ꕥ

Saturday, 6:57 pm

   You pushed open a door that led to a rooftop, dragging Bakugo as he trailed behind you.

   "It's gonna start soon." You smiled pulling him towards the railing.

   Bakugo looked down, spotting faint blobs of light, assuming they were from buildings and city lights, he looked up, another rather bright blob which he then assumed was the moon.

   He stared at the blank sky, then back at you.

   Your head turned, brows curling.

   "Why look at me? You're gonna miss sight of the first firework."

   'If ever I lose my vision by any moment, I want you to be my very last sight, idiot.'

   You poked his cheek, slightly pushing his face forcing him to look at whatever was before him.

   "I want you to savor every little spark,"

  "Tch."

   A couple short seconds passed, and a sizzle emitted through the sky followed by a burst of color that painted the blank canvas before you.

  Bakugo stared, he stared as the crackles of light faded away, only to be followed by more bursts of bright colors.

   He blinked, he blinked and blinked.

   Because those bright colors didn't look so bright.

   He rubbed his eyes, it was no use.

   He blinked once more, this time his face scrunched in irritation.

   He groaned, he didn't want those bright sparks to be his last seen memory.

   His head quickly turned at your direction.

   'No, my last sight should be...'

   What he saw,

   Was nothing.

   '...You...'

   Only a pool of darkness, one so dark, as dark as the blank night sky.

   "Bakugo? Is something wrong?"

   Crimson orbs stared at you with despair and disbelief, his widened eyes soon sparkling with tears as they dripped down from his cheek.

   "What's wrong? Tell me!"

   You cupped his face, features now stung with fear.

   "Why are you crying?"

   He lifted his shaking hands, it wandered cluelessly. Atop your head, glided to the nape of your neck, over your shoulder, until they reached the side of your face.

   At that moment, he wished his sight worked like a camera.

   Only sees things that are wished to remember.

   He wanted to remember your face.

   He didn't want to forget about your treasured features.

   He pulled you close, eyes squinting, blinking vigorously, you stared at him with confusion.

   "What are you doing?"

   He wished he could save what you looked like like what a memory card could do.

   His forehead pressed against yours, teeth gritting as anger knitted his eyebrows.

   "Stupid fireworks," the boy weakly mumbled.

   Fireworks, something he hated.

   Throughout his years without sight, those were the only things he could visually remember by how simple they appeared to be.

   And he hated it.

   He forgot what you even looked like.

   Only knew what shade your luscious eyes were.

   Or what color your hair was.

   He hated it.

   Fireworks.

   No matter how gorgeous you describe them to be.

   He'll still think they're the most unpleasant sight to lay eyes upon.