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"Poetry, beauty, romance, love—these are what we stay alive for."

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Kirishima woke slowly, her senses prickling one by one. Touch and smell told her that she was someplace unfamiliar, yet she was with the one she was most familiar with. While she was now wide awake, the redhead was content to continue to lean on her companion while she relied on her hearing and her sense of smell instead.

Bakugou's steady breathing informed her that he was in a relaxed state, though not enough to be sleeping. Her ears twitched as she picked up the sound of running water, and she could almost taste the sweetness that it carried.

A cool gust of wind ran over her skin, and she subconsciously leant into the warmth at her side, drawing the blonde's attention. "Oi, "Bakugou jutted his shoulder to shake her, and the redhead stubbornly kept her eyes closed. "Tch."

To her surprise, the blonde didn't stand up from the wooden bench they were resting on, nor did he knock her off him, though she was surprised when she suddenly couldn't breathe through her nose.

Kirishima spluttered and shot to her feet, cupping her hands around her nose and glaring at the blonde. Her indignance faded away when she noticed the expression on his face. He was smirking, but she could have sworn she saw a hint of an amused smile.

It was gone almost instantly, however.

"Tch, bout time." He looked annoyed all of a sudden as he started walking away from her, and she couldn't help but grin as she ran to catch up. The cool air was attributed to the setting sun as the world grew dark; however, the darkness was only temporary.

As they got closer to the city square, music and lights lit the way, leading them to the apex of the celebration. Scores of people could be seen dancing and drinking wherever you looked, creating an atmosphere that spoke of comradery and youthful merriment.

"Ah, it's so pretty!" The sparkle in Kirishima's eyes rivalled even that of any light present, and the blonde could see her barely contained excitement. She and almost everyone else present had gotten swept up in the atmosphere, and he had doubts that any of them were coming back down to earth any time soon.

Bakugou sighed. Oh, what the hell, she had earned it.

Kirishima nearly fell flat on her face as she received a shove from behind. Turning, she saw the blonde lowering his hand. The blonde looked into her eyes, and in their depths, she saw silent encouragement. Bakugou watched as the redhead caught on and almost vibrated in place, seemingly indecisive about what to do first. He saw her bound up to one of the stalls, and realisation struck him.

Shit, that would be a problem.

Kirishima reached for some sort of sweet-smelling ball on a stick before a hand encircled her wrist, the now-present blonde dropping a round metal disc on the wood and reaching for the stick in her place.

"Huh?" Kirishima looked confused as the stick was shoved into her hand and the blonde pulled her off to a more secluded area.

"You need money; you can't just fucking take things." Bakugou looked at her in exasperation, or, to be more precise, he couldn't believe he had forgotten the red's blatant lack of knowledge of their world.

"That word again; the guards often talked about it. Is that metal circle 'money'?" Kirishima frowned.

"Tch, that's a part of it." Bakugou clenched his fists and looked away from the redhead; it made him angry to think about those bastards that had kept her locked away. He regretted not having torn every one of them to shreds. For some reason, it made him sick to think that those people had thought of her as nothing more than a means to line their pockets.

Bakugou eyed Kirishima as she stared at the sweet confectionary in her hands, admiring the bright red colour. He watched as she finally decided to give it a try and felt amused as she poked it with her tongue.

The redhead's eyes brightened tenfold as she looked at the blonde and said, "What is this!?"

"It's a candy apple." He would be lying if he said it wasn't interesting to watch her discover things that were so common that he wouldn't otherwise have spared a thought.

"There's an apple in here." Kirishima whipped her head up at him. Bakugou raised an eyebrow at the draconian woman before nodding his head.

"Eh?" Kirishima stared the red candy down before opening her mouth wide to reveal her sharp teeth.

"Wait stupid-" He was too late.

CRUNCH.

"Ish, so stihkhey."

Bakugou felt sweat form on his brow and gave her a deadpan look. While he was fluent in all forms of bastardisation of the English language, he barely deciphered that as 'It's so sticky."

Sticky was the last thing on his mind when he had seen her bite down on the hard candy exterior; broken teeth were more towards his expectations. However, there she went again, surpassing his expectations, even in the form of something so simple.

Though perhaps he should have expected this much with those fangs of hers.

Innocent to the thoughts of her companion, Kirishima made quick work of the pleasantly sweet toffee and the still sweeter apple beneath before something else captured her attention. The redhead weaved her way deeper into the celebration, this time followed by the blonde, and came to a stop as masked men and women spun past her in elliptical patterns.

Kirishima found herself hypnotised by the movement and even more so by the music that they weaved their dance to. It made her want something, but what she couldn't figure out was what this feeling in her chest was and why she was so excited by it.

Once again, the redhead felt a hand on her back and was launched forwards; however, she didn't fall, far from it in fact. The figure of a woman she didn't know quickly captured her hand and pulled her further forwards, another brushing her fringe back and placing a simple black feathered mask over her eyes.

Surrounded by strangers, she couldn't have felt more at peace as she was led around in a wide circle, spinning and twirling as she went with countless others. Laughter and music filled her chest, and her heart soared.

Unbeknownst to her, she wasn't the only one who had experienced something new that night.

Somewhere in the endless movement, Kirishima could have sworn that she spotted the blonde watching from the sidelines, but with the world around her moving so fast, she couldn't be sure.

She wanted to share this with him in some way; did he know how amazing this felt? Though she wondered if he would ever let his guard down enough to let loose like this, she hoped that at least once he had.

'There!' Kirishima spotted the blonde once again and used the ever-moving momentum to untangle herself from the flow. She departed with a little more force than anticipated and crash-taped the unsuspecting blonde into an alley.

Kirishima felt her face burn and let her head fall onto the blonde's chest out of embarrassment. She would be blessed if someone would end her suffering.

"Sorry." The redhead drew out the word, slightly muffled by his shirt, and the blonde sighed. He had taken his eyes off her for the first time that night, and somehow that had managed to be the moment when she decided to launch herself. He wasn't all that convinced that she hadn't been waiting for an opportunity.

"Well, what is it?" The blonde rumbled slightly under her cheek as he made to sit them both up.

Bakugou tensed as the beetroot-red-faced woman placed something over his eyes, brushing his bangs and cheeks with her fingertips as she adjusted it into place.

Kirishima looked at him, feeling a bit more confident somehow, and grinned her closed-eyed smile, "Souvenir." This way, she felt like he had shared a little more of the experience with her.

To both of their surprise, the blonde didn't make any move to remove it, and neither did he move at all. Kirishima grinned once more as she sat on her knees between his and pointed to her own mask.

Bakugou closed his eyes, and when he reopened them, the red-headed woman was already on her feet, and a small hand was outstretched to him. Without hesitation, he took it, and with unbefitting strength, she hauled him to his feet wordlessly. The touch of a hand and the brush of fingertips were the small things that hung in the air when words had long since faded.

In the days to come, those were the things that she missed the most. If only those peaceful times could have lasted a little longer.

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