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Bakugou finds himself completely isolated, his fire burning all throughout his body, his heat melting all what can't withstand his silent fury. He's never felt so many emotions at once, it was either one or another, but never an overwhelming sensation of everything.
He clenches fist over his black jeans, gripping the material as best as he can, trying to hold in the broken resonance of his voice from sounding. He can't show his emotions, the fire surrounding him is already enough.
There's no one else in the room, the phone in his hands now useless. Crushed and dysfunctional after the heat emitting from his hand, this torment was just unbearable, he couldn't keep himself calm no matter what he tries. He needs something to punch, he needs to scream, he needs to burn the entire city down. He has to, he has to, there's nothing going through his mind right now but the ashes of the city.
He doesn't know how long he's been sitting on the black leather sofa chair, now ruined. Doesn't know how long since the call ended with Sero, if it's seconds, or minutes since he heard Kaminari scream a desperate cry, can't figure out if its been hours since the pain flare up from inside him, completely overwhelming him.
Dropping the broken, half melted phone, Bakugou slaps a palm over his heart. The black shirt scrunched up as he clutches the fabric. He sobs at the pain, at how much it was throbbing, hoping it would just go away. He's gone through dozens of fights before, had knifes graze him, and bullets pierce him. He knows pain, but fuck this pain was entirely different. So much worse than anything he's felt before.
The door behind him opens, his fire distinguishes from his entire form, suprised to hear the door slamming open. No one has had the guts to come comfort him, or just be there, his aura gives off enough energy to scare away anyone who isn't accustomed to his personality yet.
When he turns, he feels sick to what he sees. Feels like not just the city will burn but world itself was just about to burn down in matter of seconds.
Sero has his hands under the man's arms, holding him steady. He's the opposite of Kaminari, he looks pained, just like the rest of them, and there might be a few tears, but he looks stable, calm and collected.
As they place the man's body on the bed, no one says anything about how the overflowing blood could stain the sheets. No one dares puts that in importance to the dead man, laying now peacfully. Bakugou takes a few steps forward, the other step back, neither of them sure what Bakugou was going to do, or even decipher what the man was currently feeling.
Nor could they ever understand. The feeling of losing an important friend was how far they could relate. But Bakugou was more than that wasn't he? Kirishima had brought happiness to everyone's life in the bar. He brought light in everyone who met him in the streets. Brought a little more life in the world, he was someone, who couldn't be just limited to a label of 'an important friend.'
Bakugou takes in the man before him. He was incredibly pale, a color he never seen on him, his hair fallen and tangled. His chest didn't raise and fall as it should, but fuck. His shirt, it was unbelievably drenched in a dark crimson, still wet and being soaked into the sheets underneath.
He walked out of the bar earlier today just fine, he walked out like he did every night. With that stupid smile on his face, all sharp teeth on full display. Fuck, his eyes gleaming so bright and red, with so much love to everyone he turned his back to, fuck, fuck, fuck. So fucking why did he come back like this?
And now, and now he's here...fuck, no, he wasn't even here anymore was he?
Now he wouldn't be able to wait for that idiot's smile in the early mornings. Now he wouldn't see the new hobby he had picked up in that day. Won't be able to hear his laughter as he encourages everyone to try it with him and miserably fail.
Bakugou, without looking to Sero who stood behind him, or Kaminari who was leaning on the bed, knees on the ground as he begged to whatever god to give him back his friend, asked in what seemed to be a calm voice, one the two others knew was anything but calm.
"Who did this?" His tone was harsh, his hands in his pockets, hoping that it might help him calm down as he looked at the most important person in his life unmoving body.
Sero pocketed one of his his hands, hiding the blood from his sight, trying to erase the fact that he couldn't do anything for his friend. "He calls himself the Colorless King." He reaches his other hand out, holding out the same camera Kirishima took out with him only a few hours ago, giving it to Bakugou to watch Kirishima's last moments alive.