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“You can be real annoying sometimes.” He began, trying to supress the insanity inducing itching in his throat. He’d been hiding this from Kirishima for so long, he didn’t wanna fuck up his secret right now. Not here.
He didn’t want Kirishima to know that he had such a shameful disease because of him.
Not here.
Not now.
Not ever.
Especially when he had a girlfriend.
He still had to tell him his feelings regardless, he didn’t want to die. He had a promising and glorious future ahead of him. He didn’t want to risk dying before his time just because of some shitty fucking flowers. He also didn’t want anybody else to hear, taking the both of them to an abandoned street just so he couldn’t risk ruining his image.
He still held some hope, pathetically.
That maybe Kirishima would like him back, tell Bakugou that dating that loud, infuriating girl was all just for show. And that he liked him back.
That’s all he wanted to hear right now.
He thickly swallowed the saliva that pooled up in his mouth, this was shameful. Fucking disgusting. But anything to stop him from dying.
“I know you’re dating Ashido or whatever.” He continued, rolling her name off his tongue as if it left a bad taste in his mouth. “But, I still like you.”
He blurted it out, figuring it would be better to say it confidently instead of stumbling and muttering like an idiot.
He expected to hear something, or feel something at least. An “I love you”, a pair of soft and caring arms wrapping around his body.
As embarrassing as confessing his feelings to Kirishima was, he was bound to say yes.
After all, he was far better, in all ways than Ashido. At least that’s what he wanted to believe.
Bakugou didn’t hear anything. Or feel anything.
The only thing that consumed his senses, was a numb and bitter silence. He looked up to see Kirishima with a contorted facial expression.
After a few minutes of the same, constant, numbing silence. Kirishima finally broke it.
However, not with a heartfelt “I love you.”
Something far worse.
“Bakugou, I don’t--”
“Whatever, asshole. I was just fucking with you anyway.”
Is what he wanted to say, to keep his pride in pristine condition, but a huge stammer ripped through the middle of his speech, ruining his carefree composure, along with a few pitiful drops of tears tumbling down his cheeks afterward.
No, not this.
Not fucking here.
He tried to shield his eyes with his forearm, desperately hoping that he other male couldn’t bear witness. But out of a sudden, streams of tears burst through his eyes like a broken dam. To make it all worse, a couple of dry coughs wracked through his body, spilling blood-tinged petals out of his trembling mouth.
He looked like a crumbling mess, and this breakdown was far too intense to hide. And to humiliate him more, Kirishima was there to witness it all.
The harder he wiped his eyes and with his sleeve, the more would leak out, and the more pathetic he’d feel, disgust and shame lingering deep inside.
Is this really what he came here for? This isn’t what he expected.
He came to UA to live a life of luxury, graduate on top of everyone else and become a shining pro-hero. Watching everyone else practically worship him and bow over his feet with an amused smile on his face.
But none of that seemed to be happening. He seemed to get more pathetic everyday.
First becoming second to Deku countless times, then ending AllMight’s career, and now here he was, crying. Tumbling down and embarrassing himself over a silly high school crush, Kirishima’s oblivious words playing over and over through his head like a broken record.
Before he wanted to turn around, leave and pretend nothing happened just like the coward he felt like he was. But before he could, he felt a gentle hand touch grasp his shoulder.
“Hey, I’m sorry, okay?” Kirishima muttered, his voice empathetic and soft, almost pitiful. The supposed pity drove Bakugou mad.
He didn’t need his damn pity. If he wanted to spend his life with that insufferable pink thing, then that’s his own business. It wouldn’t stop Bakugou anyway.
At least, that’s what he wanted to believe.
Deep down, underneath his hard exterior. The blonde knew very well that he was dying. And if he continued this stubborn attitude, he wasn’t going to be a hero anytime soon.
He could feel more flowers blooming and blossoming in the soft tissue of his lungs. Merciless vines piercing the flesh, with colourful petals travelling up to his throat and mouth.
His muscle twitched violently under the redhead’s fingers, he hoped the unsettling movement would be a sign for him to back off.
But he still stayed.
What a perfect time to be loyal.
“I know you probably won’t want to,” He continued, his voice tugging at every single one of Katsuki’s nerves. “But you should really take the surgery, I don’t want you to die--”
“Shut your fucking mouth. I don’t need your shit advice.” Bakugou grunted, his voice coming out as cold and callous, losing the energy to shout, beautiful yet deadly petals tumbling out of his lips and falling gracefully onto the concrete. He tried to cover his mouth with his hand, hopefully stopping the flowers from flying and out and preserving the few broken shreds of worth he still gripped onto dearly.
Kirishima’s expression softened, his eyebrows creasing in sadness. As much as Bakugou wanted to hide it, he knew he wasn’t okay. And he didn’t want to be responsible for his death.
“C’mon. Please. I’ll even pay for it man.” He urged, his voice slowly and subtly starting to shatter and break. “Do it for me.”
Bakugou hung his head low, his ashen blonde strands of hair covering the splotches of tears and crimson on his face. And just to make everything better for him, he could feel his throat start to grow torturously itchy, as well as a flood of flower petals springing up his throat.
Not right now.
Coughing fits were degrading.
His body started to tremble in anger, Kirishima felt his rage cloud up the atmosphere and backed away slowly accordingly. But it was already too late
"The fucks wrong with your ears? I said I don’t need your shit advice.” He bellowed before staying silent for a long while , his voice still breaking under the angry tone, the violent coughs and flower spews that shot through his body not helping at all.
At his point, he didn’t even want to talk anymore. Whatever he said would just cause him more agonizing pain. His image was finished, just like his life, just like the dreams of becoming a successful hero. He was bound to unravel eventually anyway, he couldn’t stop messing up, losing to Deku one too many times just because of his weakness, ending the career of AllMight just because of his carelessness and basically ending his own life just because of his stupidness.
Even though Kirishima couldn’t hear the swirls of self-hate flying around in Bakugou’s mind. The bitter and honestly scary silence made him know that he was destroying himself in his head. Even though basically anything he’d do or say right now would be like setting off a flare, he couldn’t just stand and watch his friend deteriorate.
“Baku--”
“Leave.”
The bitter words made Kirishima stand in awe, he couldn’t leave Bakugou to just suffer.
“Bakugou, I can’t, c’mon just--”
“I said leave. Don’t make me say it again.”
Kirishima’s shoulders slumped downward, he wanted to help. He really did. He wanted to everything to go back to normal, him goofing around with Bakugou just like he always did. He didn’t like seeing him upset, and he definitely didn’t like seeing him suffer like this. Part of him wanted to console him further, persuade him to the right path and tell him that everything would be fine. But the last thing he wanted to do was aggravate him any longer, he already looked like he was bursting with anger. And if he tried to help him he knew it’d make it worse.
The redhead sighed and gave up, leaving the gloomy atmosphere to go back to the dormitories. His heart feeling damaged and heavy.
“Please...get help.” He muttered brokenly while walking away, Bakugou’s heart breaking at his speech.
Now that Bakugou was alone, worthless and weak with no one to embarrass himself in front of. His emotions started to crumble down like a broken building. He bit the inside of his cheek in attempt to compose himself, hopefully stopping the tears and flowers from pouring out. But they flew out of his system like there was no tomorrow. His body started to grow weak, the weight of his body causing his knees to buckle, falling down onto the ground and shattering more. All while his throat would grow more and more itchy, flowers spewing out of his lips. It was all too violent. The tears, the petals, the bleeding. He felt his body growing weak, his limbs were far too heavy to move. And he felt his energy draining out of his body too.
But surprisingly, at this point, he didn’t care that much.
He didn’t have much to live for at this point.
He never imagined it like this.
He always thought he’d die by saving the world from a flashy and horrifying villain, exchanging his life for the peace of humanity.
He never expected it to be alone by himself, weeping and sobbing in a disgusting alley.
All for a boy that didn’t care.