AN: I wanna write some angst…
Title: Underneath A Bloodstained Sky
Summary: When the final battle has ended and the rubble has been cleared away, it's impossible to miss the causalities of war.
Characters: Kirishima Eijirou, Bakugou Katsuki
Pairings: None (implied Bakushima)
Warnings: Character death, a bit of graphicness
The first thing Kirishima notices is how small Bakugou looks in death. His eyes are blank, and half-closed, and his mouth is slightly open in what must have been his final breath. One hand is draped over the left side of his abdomen, and Kirishima can vividly picture Bakugou staggering forward while attempting to staunch the flow of blood from the gaping hole there. His head is tilted back, gazing towards the sky, and his other arm dangles off the slab of concrete where his life drew to a close. One leg is twisted at an odd angle, while the other is either gone or hidden beneath the debris. The right side of his face is splattered with blood, and the left splotched with bruises. He's covered in small cuts and scrapes, just like everyone else who fought that day, but Kirishima's eyes focus on the gash on the lower left part of his lip, half-hidden by the tilt of his head. His ash blond hair is dusty, with a few small bits and pieces of things (of nature, of former buildings… probably of people too, Kirishima thinks) sprinkled around his head like some kind of halo of destruction.
And he is still – so very, very still. There is no rise and fall of a chest, no blinking eyes, no small explosions in his scarred and bloodstained palms. It had been almost impossible to hear anything not too long ago, but now the silence is deafening. Kirishima doesn't realize he's on his knees until his mind dimly reminds him of the pain of scraped skin, and pebbles and bits of dirt pressing into torn flesh.
There is no one else around. Either Bakugou managed to get away from whomever he was fighting (unlikely, because Bakugou would never run from anything, not in a million years), that person escaped (much more likely), or his opponent was simply buried beneath the rubble. Or maybe he wasn't fighting at the time. Perhaps he'd been stumbling back towards the rest of the battle after a hard-earned victory, and his body had simply given out.
Kirishima didn't want to think about it, but the questions came anyway. Who killed him? How much pain had he been in? How long had he lain there, unable to move, while he slowly bled out? Had he been alone? Does it matter? Did he live long enough to know that they'd won, or did he die believing he'd sacrificed himself for a hopeless cause? What had been his last words?
Those questions will probably never be answered, but the swarm Kirishima's mind like locusts. He isn't crying, but he feels like he should be. The world feels so far away, and muted.
The war is over, the heroes have won, and the sun is shining, burning down upon the world. And Bakugou Katsuki is dead.
AN: I don't know why I wrote this. I'm sorry.