an: inspired by the new movie poster of bakugou doing kirishima's signature fistbump pose...
/
The wind is chilly against his back as Bakugou steps over the leaves that crunch beneath his feet. He shudders, tucking his nose further under his sweater that he's pulled over his ears.
"Man," a voice comes from behind him and he turns in surprise to see Kirishima running up from behind. "I can't believe we're in our final year. Graduation seems so soon," he says, slinging an easy arm around Bakugou's shoulders.
Bakugou just grunts in response. It's far too early to be thinking such sentimental thoughts. The math homework had kept him up until 10PM, far past his usual bedtime, leaving him a grumpy mess this morning.
"Have you thought about what agency you'll join? Or are you going to start your own? That'd be pretty cool, you know." "
Bakugou shrugs. It still feels like they have plenty of time before they really need to be worrying about that kind of stuff. Of course, some of them already know where they're headed. "I dunno yet. You're joining Fat Gum, still?"
Kirishima nods, bumping his fists together in front of him. "Hell yeah, man. I still have so much to learn, and it's only the beginning of my hero career, you know?"
Bakugou nods, looking out past the blue arch of the UA gates. They're on the cusp of a new era, and it's humbling to realize they've yet to really even begin.
"We'll be the greatest heroes, Katsuki."
"Yeah. Greatest heroes."
–
Kirishima doesn't graduate. Kirishima doesn't do a lot of things. He doesn't come out to celebrate, he doesn't join the third year's final celebratory trip. He doesn't join his first hero agency as a fully fledged partner. He doesn't become the great hero he always wanted to be.
"Young Kirishima Eijirou sacrificed his life for the sake of–"
Bakugou shuts off the television. Sacrificed. It's disgusting how they're celebrating the fight as a victory for the heroes when everything that's ever mattered to Bakugou is gone in an instant. He doesn't understand why everybody doesn't stop to mourn, why they don't realize everything that Kirishima meant.
He stands and stuffs on his shoes, slamming the door open.
"Where are you going, Katsuki?" his mother asks, looking up from where she's cooking in the kitchen. "Dinner's almost ready."
"Out. I'll be back soon," he calls out behind him, letting the door close on his mother's words.
"At least take a jacket with–"
Bakugou walks down the street and to the playground, sitting down on the empty swing set. "Hey. Shitty Hair. I miss you."
When no response comes from his left where there always used to be one, he turns his face to the sky instead. "Do you miss me?"
The stars don't answer back, but snow begins to fall, dusting the dirt beneath him with a thin coat of white.
Bakugou spends Christmas sick in bed with a fever. Damn cold. Damn snow. Damn everything. The world outside moves on and quickly forgets the name "Red Riot".
–
Jesus Christ it's fucking cold. Bakugou stomps his feet into the dirt as he sways back and forth on the swing, watching his breath stream out in front of him. Maybe it'll snow soon. He's sure Kirishima would love that, that idiot's always going on and on about seeing the first snow.
"Hey!"
Speak of the devil and he shall appear. With his stupid cute little hair horns and all. "Oi, took you long enough, shitty hair," Bakugou huffs, rubbing his hands together. "What'd you even need me for, anyway?"
Kirishima settles into the swing on Bakugou's left side, kicking back and forth until he has some decent amount of momentum going. "What, I can't just ask to see a friend?"
Bakugou squints, trying his best to hide a smile. At least his blush can be explained away by the cold. "Shut up, if that's it I'm going home. It's too damn cold."
"Aw, don't be like that," Kirishima says, stopping himself so he can reach out and grab Bakugou's hand. It's warm, almost burning against Bakugou's icy fingers, and he grips on tight, suddenly reminded of Camino. "Sit with me for just a little longer, Katsuki."
"Fine." He sits back down on the swing and they sway back and forth lightly, elbows bumping as their hands pull them together and push back out like a Newton's cradle. Eventually, gravity and friction do their work until they're just sitting there, arms pressed together as Bakugou watches Kirishima's Adam's apple bob up and down as he psyches himself up to speak.
"You know," Kirishima says, looking up at the sky. "I kind of wish it would snow right now."
"Fuck that," Bakugou answers, nudging him away. "Shit's cold enough already."
Kirishima laughs, throwing his head back. Bakugou wonders if his neck gets cold, or if maybe it would be hot under his lips, just like his hands.
"They say that if you confess to the person you love during the first snow, you're destined to be with them forever."
"Yeah? Sounds like bullshit to–" Bakugou halts as the words register one by one. Has the cold affected his brain that much? "Shitty hair, if you're saying what I think you're fucking saying–"
"I wanted to wait, actually," Kirishima says, letting go of their hands so that he can twist to face him. Bakugou forces down his twitching hand as he automatically reaches for Kirishima again, feeling suddenly cold without the pressure of his warmth bleeding into his side. "But, fuck it. I just have to tell you I love you again when it snows, right? Because I do. I love you. And I hope that you're the one I'm destined to be with. Shit, Katsuki, I don't know how our paths will diverge after we graduate, but–"
Bakugou finds himself pressing forward, cutting off the rest of Kirishima's words as he smashes their lips together. The momentum of the swings pushes them a little too far as Kirishima topples backward and they land in a heap on the ground, but neither of them relent as Kirishima's hands snake up to wrap in Bakugou's hair.
It's too fucking cold and his face is numb and his lips can barely feel, but the warmth of Kirishima's breath huffing into his mouth – that's something he'll remember forever.
And if he doesn't remember? It's fine. They're lovers, destined to be together. Kirishima can just remind him later.
–
"Excuse me! Ground Zero! Over here, we'd like to ask a question."
Bakugou squints over at the reporter sneering at the camera they wave in his face. It's only after Yaoyorozu nudges him forward with a chilling smile that he grudgingly walks over, nodding his permission to them.
Looking almost surprised at his (somewhat) positive response, the reporter fumbles her notes until she manages to pull up the right set of questions. "Thank you for your time. You've finally broken out onto the top ten of the hero rankings after just three short years in your hero work. What can you attribute your success to?"
Bakugou pauses at that. He hadn't shown up to the last Japan Billboard Hero Ranking awards because he'd been in the midst of a mission, so the public hadn't had the opportunity to hear any sappy words of gratitude from him at the time. Now, he's unprepared to make the kind of speech that's accepted of him.
"Um," he begins, staring at Yaoyorozu to beg for any kind of help. She just smiles back at him, fielding off questions from her own small gaggle of reporters. "Well, I worked fucking hard." He coughs when he notices the reporter's wince. "I mean. I worked really hard," he amends, spitting out each syllable slowly as he considers his next words. "And, I had friends and family supporting me the whole way."
It's true, he realizes, even as the words come forward unwarranted. He's learned that he doesn't have to fight his way forward alone, that there are people he can rely on to pick him up when everything seems like it's crumbling.
"Anybody in particular?" the reporter asks, nudging at the camera man to zoom in closer on Bakugou's face.
"My parents, of course. My agency partners, Chargebolt and Creati." He hesitates for a moment before continuing, fighting past the block that's suddenly forming in his throat as his voice cracks around his next words. He can see Yaoyorozu watching with a small frown out of the corner of his eye. "And Red Riot."
"Red Riot? Who's that?" the reporter asks. It's not a name very many people recognize.
Bakugou nods, raising his two fists together and settling his knuckles against each other in a steady, practiced motion. "The greatest hero."
He turns and walks away, shoving his way through the crowd with hasty steps. It'll be written off in the papers tomorrow as his usual gruff attitude, and Red Riot's name will be nothing but a footnote marking him off as a past classmate.
None of it particularly matters to Bakugou, so long as he's alone when the tears start to roll down his face.
–
Bakugou is definitely not pouting. Not at all whatsoever.
"Aw, come on Katsuki, don't be that way," Kirishima teases with a grin. "I'll be back before you know it, promise."
"Yeah, right," he grumbles, twisting over in bed so he's facing the wall. They've only just started dating but already Bakugou feels like he's the thorn in their relationship. He knows, he understands better than anybody that Kirishima has a duty as a hero, but with his latest mission… It just feels like they've barely had the time to see each other every day.
Kirishima runs out immediately after school, only to come back to the dorms when Bakugou's already asleep in bed, missing each other by just a few minutes.
"Hey," Bakugou says, grabbing Kirishima's wrist.
"What is it?" he asks, turning back to Bakugou and stroking a gentle hand through his hair. "I have to go now, Katsuki."
"I know," Bakugou frowns. He fucking knows, damn it. "Can I sleep in your room tonight?"
Kirishima laughs. "Of course," he says, turning to go for real this time.
"And fucking, kick ass. Save shit. Whatever," Bakugou calls out.
"I will!" Kirishima assures, turning back to face Bakugou. He hardens his fists and clicks his knuckles together. "You can count on me, I'll be the greatest hero."
–
Bakugou wakes up to the smell of Kirishima's shampoo, but it's stale, a day old. The bed is empty. The corner of the room where Kirishima usually dumps his hero gear after his internship remains vacant.
Kirishima doesn't come home.
–
He continues to clean Kirishima's room, even after they return from winter break. Kirishima's parents come and take some of his personal belongings, but they leave most of the furniture to be donated to UA's future students. Kirishima would have hated the way the dust began creeping in, settling on his desk and punching bag.
When Bakugou finds a stack of letters addressed to himself, stuck behind the bookshelf, he counts them, one by one.
There's thirteen pages, neatly folded in fourths. He reads one that night. He saves the rest for next year.
Bakugou promises himself that he'll become the number one hero by the time he's thirty one. He'll become number one for Kirishima, and he'll read the final letter – and only then will he allow himself to move on.
–
Bakugou laughs, watching Kirishima sweat as he gulps down glasses of water.
"Aw come on, it's not that spicy you big baby," he teases, taking another big bite of his noodles to rub it further in Kirishima's face.
"Shut up," Kirishima hisses, reaching for Bakugou's glass when he drains his own completely. "You're a monster, I don't understand how you eat any of this stuff."
Bakugou just shrugs, slurping down more noodles while Kirishima calls over the waiter to ask for more plain white rice.
"For our next date," Kirishima says in between pants. "We're going somewhere I pick out."
"Of course, anything you want," Bakugou answers with a grin. It really doesn't matter to him where they go as long as they're together.
When the waiter returns with Kirishima's rice, he asks if they'd like a complimentary bottle of sake. He tells them there's some kind of promotion going on, and Kirishima and Bakugou stare at each other with wide eyes before eagerly nodding and accepting the bottle.
"Anyway, at work the other day, I had a lot of. Paperwork and taxes and things," Kirishima says loudly, making Bakugou wheeze as he pours out a glass for each of them.
"I don't think they're going to card us after the fact, you can probably drop the act," Bakugou says, sliding the glass over.
Kirishima shrugs, happily accepting it. "Whatever, who knows."
Squirming in their seats with one last glance around the restaurant, they lean forward and clink their glasses together before throwing it back with a grimace.
"Ugh, yuck," Kirishima says, wrinkling his nose. "That was kind of terrible."
"Yeah," Bakugou agrees. "Want more?"
–
By the time they make it back to the dorms, the lights are out and most everybody is in their rooms, studying or asleep.
"Shhh," Kirishima hisses, dragging his hand across Bakugou's face.
Bakugou, who's been entirely quiet this entire time, frowns as he opens his mouth to protest, only to be interrupted by a loud hiccup that echoes around the empty living room. The two of them freeze in their tracks, but when no angry Iida or Aizawa runs out to admonish them, they fall onto the ground in a heap of giggles.
"I said be quiet," Kirishima whispers loudly and Bakugou leans forward to shut him up with a kiss.
"You're being louder," he answers back in a whisper. (Also loudly).
A door bangs open suddenly, and they look up to see Sero staring down at them with a frown. "Can the two of you shut up and get your asses to bed, please?"
Kirishima and Bakugou exchange a glance before staring back at Sero and falling into another fit of giggles.
–
"Happy hour! Up, up, up, no more paperwork, we're going out and getting absolutely sloshed!"
Yaoyorozu sighs, flipping another page as she responds, "Chargebolt, it's still 4:30PM. Work ends at five."
Grumbling, Kaminari sinks back in his seat, kicking his feet up onto the desk in front of him. "Oh come on, what was the point of starting our own hero agency if we don't get to decide our own hours? What do you think, Ground Zero? Shall we head out?"
"Don't give a fuck, dunce face," Bakugou grumbles out. His eyes feel like they're going to pop out of his head with how long he's been staring at his screen. "Just gonna go home and sleep after this."
"Dude," Kaminari sighs, flicking a pen up in the air before catching it. "You're so uptight, just get a girlfriend already."
The office is absolutely silent as everybody stops working to stare at Kaminari.
"Ah, shit. I mean… fuck, sorry," Kaminari amends hastily, sitting up properly in his chair to stare at Bakugou.
Bakugou swallows around the tightness in his throat. "It's fine," he grumbles out. "You're probably right. Let's go get some drinks or something."
–
At the bar, Bakugou regrets coming out at all. The atmosphere's at least lightened somewhat now that Kaminari's well gone and even Yaoyorozu is on her way past tipsy and into something more.
"Fuck this," he growls to himself and downs his beer before calling the bartender over for two shots of Fireball. It burns in his throat as he knocks them back as fast as he can. He'd rather like to be numb for whatever's going to happen next.
It's something of a blur from there, but he remembers Kaminari dragging him over to a table of girls who alternated between giggles and twirling their hair at him. Only one of them really stood out, with her cherry red hair and sharp smile and he remembers dragging her to the bathroom, kissing her and then…
He wakes up the next morning in his own bed with a familiar warmth at his side. Looking down, he sees long, messy red locks and frowns.
"You should get a haircut," he rasps out, voice still hoarse from all the alcohol last night.
Shit.
Last night.
Unfamiliar brown eyes blink up at him and he startles, nearly falling off his bed as he scrambles backward.
"Good morning," she says with a smile and as Bakugou's eyes trace her sharp white teeth, he realizes he doesn't even know her name.
"I'm sorry," he says, turning away to pick up her clothes. "You should go."
The room feels empty after that. Too big for one person to live in alone.
–
It was supposed to be a rescue mission. Hostages, held up in the depths of a concrete basement too far underground to properly track for intel. In and out, easy.
Then the building started crumbling. While everybody else was escaping, Red Riot stayed back to hold up the foundations and make sure they would make it out. According to the victims' testament, he smiled as his knees buckled under the weight of the ceiling, assuring them that he could take the damage. That he wasn't afraid.
"I believed him," one of them said. "Until we got out and turned around in time to see the explosion." The building crumbled, just like that, in one giant cloud of dust. They waited for him to dig himself out. He never did.
They never recovered his full body. Shards of flesh and bone, petrified and hard as diamond. Bits and pieces of his costume, the gears cracked into a million pieces. Just enough to identify him – just enough to pronounce him dead. They found his left arm, still curled into a fist and shattered at the bicep.
They returned the pieces of his body in a two foot by three foot box. Like a fucking LEGO kit for his parents to put together.
When Bakugou heard, he threw up until he had nothing left in his stomach, and then he threw up some more.
–
"Please, Katsuki. Help me."
Kirishima's voice rings, echoing off the rubble falling in piles around them. His knees are locked to the ground, and his left arm reaches forward while his right is raised to hold the weight of the ceiling together with his shoulders.
"It hurts, Katsuki. Please."
Bakugou can only stand there, feet feeling like leaden weights as he reaches out his right hand. They're separated by a hand's breadth, but no matter how far he reaches, he can't seem to close the gap between them.
His throat makes no sounds even as his mouth voices words of reassurance and comfort, words that Bakugou knows Kirishima needs to hear before he goes.
"I don't want to die, Katsuki. Save me, please."
The walls crumble, and Kirishima's legs give out, shattering under the pressure. Bakugou can only scream as the dust covers the last inch of Kirishima's body, hiding it from view.
–
"Shit," Bakugou wakes up panting, scrambling to shove the covers off his chest. He can't breathe, he can't fucking breathe. The room is too big, but at the same time he feels claustrophobic as the echoes of the dream rattle him.
It takes him a few seconds to realize that it isn't just the dream, and his whole apartment is shaking.
"Shit, fuck," he gasps, scrambling out of bed on shaky legs only to fall forward to his knees. He crawls the rest of the way to his phone, which has shaken itself all the way across the room.
"Hello?" he gasps, picking up the ringing line and listens carefully as Yaoyorozu gives him directions to an address for an emergency rescue mission.
Power's been cut across half the city, and buildings are crumbling with survivors trapped inside. There's been an earthquake, nearly to a richter scale of seven and they're calling all available heroes to help with rescue efforts.
Bakugou curses as he hastily dons his uniform, forgoing the train in favor of blasting his way across town to the building his team's been assigned to.
He lives slightly further than the rest of them, and shows up after a sizable crowd has already begun to assemble, a mix of onlookers, survivors and reporters watching as heroes rush in and out of the crumbling building.
As he stares up at it, though, noticing the cracks in the concrete and the way rubble is beginning to gather around him, Bakugou finds he can't walk forward. His knees lock him in place, and he feels like he's stuck back in the dream, watching as people call out for help even though he's unable to save them.
Move. Fucking move. He needs to move, he needs to get in there and help but he fucking can't.
And then he sees a flash of yellow, and Kaminari staggering out of the door, a woman draped across his back and a kid trailing after, holding onto his hand. There's red and Yaoyorozu, pulling support beams out of her body and directing the injured to makeshift first aid.
He knows there are civilians trapped inside, scared and begging for help.
Bakugou's knees are still shaky. His arms feel weak, and his head is spinning.
But who the hell is he, if he can't aspire to be the greatest hero?
He clenches his fists and clicks them together in front of him, and walks forward.
–
"I saw you on the news today," Bakugou comments when Kirishima crawls into Bakugou's bed, hair still damp from the shower. "You looked pretty impressive," he teases, reaching forward to tug on one of Kirishima's locks of hair. It's softer when it's down, and not gelled up into a thick wall of spikes.
"Shut up," Kirishima grumbles, even as a smile grows across his blushing face. "It was just a petty robbery, whatever."
Bakugou laughs, standing up so he can impersonate Kirishima's stance, holding his two fist together in front of him. "'When I saw that guy run off, I just knew I had to track him down! Chivalry and bravery is my motto!' Can't believe you have a catchphrase already, and you haven't even graduated."
"I don't talk like that," Kirishima whines, making grabby hands at Bakugou until he curls back down in bed with him.
They sit there in silence after their fits of laughter finally die down, just staring at each other in between slow and sleepy blinks.
"Did I really look cool, though?" Kirishima asks in a soft whisper.
"Yeah. You looked like the greatest hero, Ei."
–
It becomes something of a habit, after that.
When he faces off against a villain. Before he enters the fray. When his vision starts shaking and his knees go weak, Bakugou clenches his fists together and holds them, knuckle to knuckle out in front of him.
Sometimes, he'll catch Yaoyorozu or Kaminari's eyes when he does it while they're out on patrol together, and they'll throw back a wistful smile and a raised fist of his own. Once, when he sees Deku in the midst of a fight, Deku does it first, with a nod to Bakugou.
Bakugou turns away sharply, clenching his fists together as he snarls and leaps forward. After the battle, he leaves before Deku can catch up to him, but not before returning the gesture, his two fists bumping together in front of him.
One day, on patrol, a kid runs up to him and grabs him by the knees. Bakugou stops, just staring down in shock as the crowd around him looks on, tittering. He knows he's never exactly been known for his fanservice.
"You're my favorite hero, Ground Zero!" the kid shouts out, briefly stepping back and letting go of his legs so he can clap his palms together in front of him. "I wanna be just like you when I grow up!"
He sees what must be the child's mother, apologizing as she rushes forward to snatch her son back, but Bakugou kneels down in front of the kid before she can reach them. Leaning forward, he takes the kid's hands in each of his own and curls the right gently into a fist.
"Chivalry."
He takes the left, and wraps that one into a fist as well. The fingers are tiny and chubby, looking like a toy cradled in Bakugou's gauntlets.
"Bravery."
Bakugou brings the boy's fists together, knuckles brushing.
"Manliness. You'll be a great hero someday."
Bakugou turns and walks away quickly before anybody can run up and ask for autographs and pictures. As he leaves, he wonders what kind of a dad Kirishima would have been.
What kind of parents they could have been, together.
–
Bakugou isn't paying much attention, drifting in and out of sleep as he tries to focus his eyes on his readings for tomorrow when he feels something cold slip around his finger.
"What the hell is this?" he asks, turning to look up at Kirishima, then back down at the ring on his right hand.
"Uh, just. It's a ring, idiot," Kirishima answers, face blazing red. "Cuz we're, you know. We like each other."
Bakugou smiles, finding it endearing that even after weeks, Kirishima still stutters over the words, "I like you."
"Okay, but… are you asking me to marry you or something? We're still in high school, dumbass," Bakugou says, even as he flexes his hand to watch the way the gold glints under the fluorescent light of his dorm room.
Kirishima coughs at that, mumbling something under his breath with his head turned away.
"I can't hear you if you talk like that, Ei," Bakugou sighs, grabbing at Kirishima's chin to pull him back. With his cheeks squished under Bakugou's fingers, Kirishima looks like a little guppy fish and Bakugou can't help but lean forward to press a kiss to his lips.
"Stop," Kirishima pouts, pushing away Bakugou's hand. He doesn't let go, though. "I just. If we weren't in high school? Would you say yes?"
Bakugou doesn't even have to think about it. "Duh," he answers, rolling his eyes. "You're my everything."
"What the fuck, Katsuki," Kirishima yelps, scrambling in an effort not to fall off the bed. "You can't just say things like that so casually!"
"And you can ask me to marry you so casually?" Bakugou counters with a grin. Anyway, it's just the truth.
Kirishima shrugs. "It's different. I don't know."
Bakugou leans back, pulling Kirishima with him so he's practically nestled in his lap. "Why's it on the right finger, anyway? Isn't it usually left when you get married?"
At that, Kirishima pulls away, leaving Bakugou whining at the sudden lack of warmth. "Well, look," he says, showing a ring on his left hand. "Give me your hand."
Bakugou hands over his right hand, squinting at Kirishima as he wraps it into a fist. Kirishima curls his left into a fist as well and moves it forward until their knuckles meet and the rings slot together with a satisfying clink.
"You and me. We complete each other."
Bakugou slides his hand open, weaving each finger through Kirishima's until their hands are clasped together.
"Yeah. We do."
–
"Where are you going?"
Bakugou scoops the rice into the bento, layering it on top with slices of beef. "I have a date."
"A date? With… Oh, I see," Kaminari says, looking up from the television. "Do you want me to come with you?"
Bakugou shakes his head as he slices fruit into bite sized pieces, placing them in a second container. "It's fine, I'd like to be alone." Kaminari just nods, shifting in his seat as he turns back to the television. Bakugou pretends not to notice when he pulls out his phone and sends off a message, probably to Mina or Yaoyorozu, and continues to pack the food instead.
"Lock the door behind you when you leave," he tells Kaminari as he slips on his coat. "I'll probably won't be back until late."
–
"Hey, shitty hair." The leaves crackle under his feet as he bends to kneel down on the ground. His fingers protest as he dips them into the freezing pail of water by his side and pours a cup of water over the granite. In a way, it's relaxing as he sits there, scrubbing at the stone. It reminds him of barging into Kirishima's room when they were back at the dorms, only to end up spending his entire free day vacuuming and cleaning up after the messy boy.
Bakugou wonders, as he brushes away the dirt and polishes the gravestone, if Kirishima would have been equally messy when they eventually moved in together.
"Do you think we would have fought a lot? Maybe even to the point of breaking up?"
He can imagine it. Coming home stressed after a long day of fighting off villains and monsters, only to sigh when he discovers Kirishima's old socks and underwear strewn about, hero costume not even hanging up in its rightful place.
Bakugou imagines stomping over to the couch, shaking Kirishima awake from where he's fallen asleep with the television on, fully prepared to lecture him about the dirty dishes still sitting in the sink only to come to a halt when Kirishima blinks his eyes up at him.
"What? Oh, Katsuki, you're home," he'll say with that blinding smile, reaching forward with one hand to tug Bakugou down into a messy pile of tangled limbs together on the couch. And Bakugou won't be able to say a single word to protest it all, because he'll be so fucking gone for that smile of his.
It's useless to wonder, though.
One by one, Bakugou opens the bento boxes and lays them out on the ground in front of him before finally pulling out a cup and pouring in some sake.
"I brought some of your favorites. Beef tataki, strawberries, cherries. Eat up, that shit was expensive to get in winter," Bakugou grumbles, leaning back on his elbows to stare up at the sky.
He's not sure how long he spends there, sitting and talking about everything that's happened in the past year since he last came to visit. When he stands back up again to gather the food, his knees crack in protest and his fingers ache from the cold.
"I'll see you again, Eijirou."
Bakugou kneels down, pressing the ring on his right fist to the stone with a satisfying click. The wind whistles around him, biting at his ears with a sharp cold. The sun shines down, too distant to warm him or the fine layer of first snow beginning to stick to the yellowed grass under his boots.
He imagines a ghost of warmth brushing against his left side as he closes his eyes and prays.
Kirishima Eijirou
October 16th, 2000 — December 5th, 2018
Greatest Hero
/
insert black and white montage of main character's dead significant other running on the beach and giggling under the blankets as they tilt their head back in slow motion
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